Completing his daily schedule, Wingfried von Katerinburg exits his office in a typical manner. He sees two of his closest SG Generals waiting for him; Edler von Wingenberg and Eisen Silberkrone. Wingfried:
“You two don’t usually line up in front of my office waiting for me, so I’m assuming that you are here about the *thing*, right?”
Edler nods while Eisen remains silent. After a moment, Edler starts explaining.:
“Yes, it’s about the “important discovery”, I told you about.”
“So?”
“Yesterday, two of our SG Paranormal agents that we dispatched to recover the particular artifact from our excavation team have arrived in Hellquill with the thing.”
“And?”
“They were in horrible shape by the time they arrived. One of them died a couple of hours after arriving, the other one went insane for some unknown reason.”
Wingfried stared at Edler with a blank face, and answered hesitantly:
“And how did that agent die exactly?”
“Doctors ruled out it as “Epilepsy from severe trauma”.”
Wingfried tries to grasp what he just said:
“Wait… this artifact of yours, is a piece of stone, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you are telling me that a griff literally died from Epilepsy from looking at that piece of stone?”
“Also, yes.”
…
After a long and awkward pause, Wingfried smirks:
“Then we have something in our claws that is worth wasting some time into.”
Edler calmly nods:
“Perhaps…”
Wingfried turns to Eisen:
“Eisen, tell everyone to assemble at the Rittersaal Secret Chamber before 7 pm, tell them that it is extremely urgent.”
Eisen calmly nods. Wingfried then turns to Edler again:
“And Edler, bring the artifact in the safest way you know and put it on the altar at the center of the room. Also, tell everyone arriving at the room before me to not interact with the artifact in any way possible, I guess covering it up with a piece of fabric would do.”
Edler replies in his usual cold voice:
“As you order… my Führer.”
Wingfried nods as they start walking towards the exit together. While walking, Wingfried continues to question Edler:
“And what about the other discoveries?”
“Spectacular. Every single one of them is important enough to change the way we perceive Griffonian history as a whole.”
Eisen joins in:
“The word “Spectacular” really would be an understatement. Our scientists say the oldest of the artifacts predates Grover I by 3000 years. This will deal a heavy blow to the reactionaries, who’d still like to believe that we had no real history before Grover I.”
Edler sneers:
“Every day, we are getting closer to fully discovering the true history of Griffons.”
Wingfried asks another question:
“Do we know how old that particular artifact is?”
Eisen:
“Our scientists never got to study it properly since they don’t even want to be nearby that cursed box. But they still assume that it could be anywhere between 500 years to 2000 years old.”
Wingfried laughs:
“Too much for our rational-minded scientists huh?”
Edler:
“They are probably scared of Hellquill turning into another Country filled with Necromancers and Living Dead… Now that would be a nice shooting exercise.”
Eisen:
“If our excavations at the Griffonstone continue like this, incidents like that might become a possibility. I’m sure we obtained at least a dozen or so curses just through all the tombs we opened up.”
Wingfried laughs again:
“Perhaps. But still, someone had to eventually recover those relics. So let the one who reclaims the Griffonian relics be a Griff, instead of some damned pony in the far future.”
Eisen:
“Of course, my Führer.”
They finally arrive at the exit. Wingfried:
“See you in a couple of hours, I’ll be in the library to have an idea of what we are dealing with”
Eisen and Edler salute Wingfried and leave.
An hour later, Wingfried is in his library, examining book after book, trying to find a title that might help them with the situation they have at hand. But let it be the theological doctrines of a 200-year-old book, or the metaphysical studies of a couple of decades-old philosophical books, or a staunchly anti-traditional book filled with studies trying to ‘disprove’ the fantastical elements of magic, none of them proved to be useful for Wingfried. All of them either recommend the burning of the artifact, a proper and genuine study of the nature of the artifact itself or putting it in a museum so other griffons can pay to see it. “Useless,” he thinks to himself. He opens up another book he thinks might be useful, named; “Metaphysics of Ancient Practices”. After looking at it for a while, he realizes again that this is not the book he needs and tosses it towards the table nearby. He sits down and thinks; “Should I send an envoy to the Dread League? Sure, it might be under the rule of half-dead ponies, but still, I think they might be the only ones in the whole Griffonia that might make something out of this… But what if this is a relic of mass power, could they utilize the powers of the relic before they reveal its secrets to us, and then use it to attack us? Or does it even have powers at all? What if that griff who died already had pre-existing health issues? Even though that still doesn’t explain the other one going mad. Maybe they were close friends or something? No, SG would never send two close friends together on a mission.
... I just have no idea what to do... Heh. I’m starting to think like Edler with all this mysticism…”
Wingfried starts walking around the room: “Just think… think…”
While looking around the library, Wingfried looks at the ceiling for a while. He then notices the old books at the very top of the bookshelves, about 6-7 meters above the ground. He looks closer; all the books he could see from down there were in horrendous condition, covered in dust and webs. Even though it has very little chance of helping, he decides to give it a shot and uses his wings to get a better view. As he gets to a higher altitude, he looks back and stares at all the other books he has at his disposal. He chuckles and thinks to himself: “All these prominent books and I’m still going after half-rotten pieces of papers” and continues flying. After reaching the shelf he was looking for, he starts looking at the old-fashioned half-rotten books. It was what he expected, all in horrendous condition, many of them probably didn’t even see daylight for decades. After looking for a while, Wingfried sees a book with a black leather cover, standing out amongst the moldy books. He reaches out, pulls out the book, and starts looking at its cover. It had no name on it and surely looked out of place. Even though he had no idea what the book was about, he decides to get down and take a better look at it.
He opens up the book, just to see there is no name or title for the book. While the book itself abruptly starts with paragraphs filled with puzzling sentences which themselves are filled with vague words. Reading it would be a challenge for any regular griff, but thankfully for von Katerinburg, he spent years studying old Griffonian texts and languages. As he starts turning the pages, he was met with complex but interesting texts, mostly about spiritualism, rituals, and mythological legends. After reading through a couple of random pages, he concludes that this enigmatic book was never even meant to be here in the first place. Wingfried thinks to himself; “I don’t know why… but I think I found what I needed”.
After turning a couple of more pages, he finds the subject he didn’t know he was looking for: “Three-Pointed Sword of Maar”. As he reads the subject, he notices similarities between the said “symbolism of Maar” and the way SG agents described the relic. Wingfried at last realized the amount of potential this artifact has. It was no mere cursed rune or a necromancy stone, what they had in their claws directly came from Maar; the Griffonian God of Death. No person or group ever discovered anything like this before, or even if they did, they never dared to use it. Even the almighty Idol of Boreas was simply nothing in comparison to this. For a moment he felt like he should immediately cancel the upcoming meeting, get rid of the artifact, and never talk about this ever again. For years he did everything he could to empower Griffons, Hellquill, Reformisten, and himself. But this… He wasn’t sure what he would do with it, or even if he wanted to do anything with it. Align yourself with the literal Deity of Death? It was too much… but for Wingfried, it was not, it just couldn’t be. He tried to convince himself that someone sooner or later would use it for their own benefit, and that person could easily be an enemy. And even if he ordered the destruction of the artifact, Edler would certainly steal the artifact and take it on his own. And what exactly Edler would do with such a thing? Imagining it alone was enough to frighten him. He thought to himself; “No, I must be the one to activate it. I am the only person I could trust with this amount of power in his claws. And I’m not sure about even that…”
He finally decides to continue reading the book. He then stumbles on the very thing he was looking for; “Blood for Maar”. The moment he read the title, he sighed, and then looked at the clock on the wall; an hour left till the meeting. Realizing he does not have much time, starts studying the once-forbidden pages.
Almost all major personnel of Hellquill were waiting in the Secret Meeting room, prominent Generals, Ministers, and key Advisors, about 30 griffins were waiting for their ‘Führer’ to arrive. The chamber itself was somewhat large, had no windows, and was in a circular shape, and with the massive stone pillars in it, the room itself truly screamed Medieval. Wingfried finally enters the room, all the staff salutes him as he salutes them back. Without any delay, he walks towards the artifact at the center of the room, which is placed on the preexisting altar (or rather a meeting table) as he ordered. He then removes the piece of cloth placed upon the artifact, finally seeing it with his bare eyes. He gulps, seeing that the artifact is the same as what he read about. He mutters to himself; “This is it.”.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain the truth behind the artifact since many of the griffons there would easily turn against him the second, they realize that they are engaging in a literal demonic ritual. He again thinks to himself; “Why did I even call them here? I don’t even remember… Wait… No, I do remember, I needed them here… because if I… die… here and have no other Griffons in the room other than Edler and Eisen, SG would immediately exploit my death and takeover Hellquill.”
He continues to stare at the artifact for a while, without paying any attention to the crowd behind him. After a while, General Demetrius Kamphaus calls him out:
“My Führer, would you mind telling us why are we gathered here? Because to be honest, I don’t see any “urgencies” here.”
Wingfried answers without making eye contact:
“Our informants… found something… something unusual… something extremely unusual.”
He turns back to the crowd behind him:
“Two SG informants brought this artifact yesterday. One of them died and the other one went insane hours after arriving.”
Suspicion and distress commence amongst the crowd. Some start whispering to each other.
Demetrius replies hesitantly:
“Uh… my Führer, are you sure it’s a good idea to have every single important government personnel be in the same room with *that* thing? One accident alone can decapitate the entire Hellquill!”
Whispers continue amongst the crowd.
Wingfried:
“I have studied. It shouldn’t affect anyone here as long as you keep a proper distance from it.”
Demetrius answers in a distressful tone:
“…That’s not exactly reassuring…”
Edler takes the opportunity to attack Demetrius:
“What any other assurances you want? What are you, a coward?”
Demetrius answers in a fuming tone:
“If not wanting to die over some damn ritual when there’s still work to be done makes me a coward, then yes, I am a coward to the end!”
Wingfried loudly exclaims:
“ENOUGH! I’m not here to listen to your inept arguments yet again! If anyone wants to leave the room now, then you are welcome. You won’t get demoted or ridiculed, and you can continue your lives as usual. But I want you to trust me for once; that nogriff in this room, except for maybe me, won’t get harmed or affected by the artifact. I just need witnesses to confirm that whatever is about to happen did indeed happen. That’s all I can say to assure you. Again, whoever in this room wants to get out, do it now. And don’t waste my time.”
Everyone starts looking at each other, not sure if they want to comply or not. After a minute of waiting, no one quits. Wingfried:
“Good. I am proud of all of you. Now, let us go back to the business.”
Wingfried steps out of the way of the Artifact and fully reveals the box to the crowd. Demetrius again speaks out:
“Do we know what this thing is capable of other than killing people or making them go insane?”
Wingfried calmly answers:
“We don’t know the exact purpose of it, but we do know what scale of potential it might hold. Eisen might give you a better description about this, Eisen?”
Wingfried turns to Eisen Silberkrone. Eisen simply nods and starts explaining:
“This artifact is unique even by its design alone, almost all of our archeologists agree that this artifact is a mixture of all Griffonian cultures, which is exceptional, for an ancient relic. Judging by the sheer amount of symbolism on it, we can easily say that this relic belongs to Ma- “
Wingfried loudly coughs and disrupts, making an eye gesture to Eisen that simply says; “Do you have any idea how mad these griffons will be if they learn that we are collaborating with the literal God of Death?”. Eisen instantly reconsiders his sentence, and continues:
“-I mean, we can easily conclude that this relic belongs to a deity. And even though we don’t know which one this box is dedicated to; we can still declare that it retains unlimited supernatural potential.”
Bowser Klaproth the Hellquill Minister of Information, speaks out:
“I am sorry Herr Eisen, but are we certain that our fallen SG agent didn’t have any existing health issues? How are we certain that this box even has powers?”
Eisen replies:
“We didn’t gather all of you here over mere speculation, and yes, the agent did have a medical examination just a week before being sent to Griffonstone, he simply had no issues. We’ve been studying this artifact even before it arrived at Hellquill, it resembles a device more than a mere stone box.”
Bowser Klaproth asks again:
“And do we know how to activate this “device”?”
Before Eisen could respond, Edler joins in:
“Blood. We activate it with blood.”
The crowd gets uneasy, General Wilhelm Stackelberg furiously protests:
“I do hope(!) that you are aware that this sounds more of a Necromancer invocation than a mere ceremony! How do you think freakshows like Dread League start? Exactly like this!”
Wingfried intervenes:
“Herr Stackelberg and others, I duly understand your concerns, but I need you to understand that this is the way our ancestors intended for the unlocking of the device. If there was another way, we wouldn’t be spending any time talking about blood.”
General Demetrius Kamphaus joins again:
“With all respect, my Führer, I advise you to reconsider the risks that box might carry.”
Wingfried doesn’t break his attitude:
“And I want all of you to think; will the box itself be left unused forever? No matter how we’d like to believe that this relic could be left untouched forever, deep down we all know that eventually or so someone will open this box, and someone will make use of it with blood. So, I say; let that “one” be a Griff.”
General Wilhelm Stackelberg asks again:
“Do we at least know what amount of blood is needed for “activation”?”
Wingfried:
“Just one drop, only from the person who will activate it of course.”
Edler:
“Too bad it’s not a blood sacrifice, we would definitely rehire General Trudy Oettinger to carry out that gallant mission.”
Edler chuckles to himself.
General Demetrius Kamphaus inquires:
“My Führer, I hope you see the fact this certain act can very well result in your demise.”
Wingfried:
“…You’re talking as if I fear death.”
“It’s not about the fear of death. It’s about the uncertain future of Hellquill.”
Edler joins:
“My Führer, I’m assuming you didn’t think about the likelihood of a succession. And I’d like to remind you again that according to our purely scientific consensus; long-term interaction with the box has two possible outcomes; death or insanity. I fear you might’ve been a little bit too optimistic about the possibility of making out of it alive.”
Demetrius Kamphaus:
“…I hope you have a plan in your mind my Führer. Hellquill must not suffer from any kind of internal disagreement in order achieve our Eastern Expansion.”
Wingfried looks around him, he did overvalue his chances of getting out of it alive. He didn’t even bother thinking of the scene where he could die or go insane and the void lack of Leadership could eventually destroy Hellquill from within, and ultimately doom the idea of a Riverlands conquest altogether. He eventually speaks in a low tone:
“You are all correct...”
Wingfried then looks at the crowd and starts pondering if the needed candidate for the Führer was among them. All the Griffons in the room get anxious, Wingfried was about to pick a placeholder for his place in this bleak moment. Even though many of them surely wished to be a Führer one way or the other, certainly none of them wanted it to be like this.
Wingfried thinks to himself; “…I need a griff who does not belong to any factions, capable of holding the country together, and would comply to my dying wishes… Edler would gladly be the candidate, but of course, choosing him would be foolish. Because the moment I lose myself, his first act as the Führer would be pulling up a pistol and start opening fire on the crowd… Wilhelm? I don’t think he’s ever been loyal to me or my ideas in the first place, his first action as the Führer would be probably declaring himself “King of Hellquill” and then pulling up a pistol and start shooting at everyone he doesn’t like in the room… Demetrius? Sure, he is probably the wisest and reasonable griffon of the crowd, but his hostility against the SG would put Hellquill in a difficult situation, and the moment he becomes the Führer he too would probably pull up whatever weapon he has on him right now and then shoot Edler and Eisen… No, I need someone that wouldn’t pull up a gun the moment he/she gets in control and by that, drag the whole country into a pointless civil war. I need someone else…”
After looking around the room again, he loudly proclaims:
“General Erika Stahlflügel! Would you mind coming here?”
Erika Stahlflügel is completely caught off guard. She struggles to comprehend what von Katerinburg just said and gets nervous when the entire crowd surrounding her instantly starts looking towards her. Shocked and confused, Erika tries to answer:
“…Me?!”
Wingfried in an overbearing tone:
“Yes you, Stahlflügel. And could you *please* try to hurry?”
Still nervous and concerned, Erika starts walking towards Wingfried amid the looks of others, with the looks of Edler and Eisen terrifying her in particular. When she finally comes closer to Wingfried, she struggles to reply:
“My Führer, does that mean- “
But Wingfried is not here to listen to her answer, and instead continues as if she didn’t try to speak:
“General Erika Stahlflügel, you might be the only griff who can preserve the integrity of the Hellquill while keeping a neutral stance. You will succeed me in case of my demise.”
Erika tries to respond hesitantly while being overwhelmed by stress:
“I-… My Führer I don’t want to fail you, but I don’t think I’m the right griff for the job… I fear that I might make things worse for Hellquill.”
Wingfried in a cheeky tone:
“Well, such a pity… then I’ll have no choice but to give the heirship to my second choice… General Steeltalon! Would you mind stepping forward?”
Everygriff in the room, especially Erika, goes wide-eyed the moment Wingfried uses the name of the infamous “Steeltalon the Butcher”. As everybody looks around to see where he might be, it takes some time for them to see that Steeltalon isn’t even in the group and only stands all alone by himself in a corner somewhat away from everyone else, too “busy” to pay any attention while trying to clean the dry blood stains on his knife with a tissue. He’s grumbling to himself: “…I don’t have any issues with blood stains on my other blades…I swear this is just cheap plastic… I’m going to skin that dog alive for selling me this junk…”
It takes a while for Steeltalon the Butcher to notice that everygriff in the room was looking at him. He replies in a callous voice:
“Before any of you say anything, it’s not Griffon blood… Its-…Its-… It is tomato sauce! Yeah, I recently started cooking. You know, I needed a hobby and such…”
He finally realizes something is off by the looks of the griffons:
“Why are you all looking at me like that? Did I do something bad again?”
Wingfried then looks at Erika with a *This guy is going to be your boss if you refuse* stare, before calling out Steeltalon:
“Oh, it’s nothing serious Steeltalon. But would you mind step- “
Erika realizes Wingfried’s intention, and interrupts him:
“I- I’m very sorry my Führer but I hope it isn’t too late to accept your proposal…”
Wingfried pretends to be shocked:
“I’m sorry General, but I thought you believed that you are unfit for the rule.”
Erika thinks to herself; “*sigh* Why is he doing this to me? He wants me to ask him again, couldn’t he just say “yes”?!” and replies:
“I’m sorry again my Führer, but I think I changed my mind, ruling Hellquill is nothing I can’t manage.”
She then forces herself to give a stressful smile.
Wingfried cheerfully replies:
“Ah! How nice to hear! I’m glad to know that you are not letting me down on my possibly dying wish.”
Steeltalon however, is still confused:
“Wait, who’s dying here? What’s going on? I didn’t do anything, did I?”
Wingfried doesn’t bother to explain everything to the infamous Butcher:
“It’s nothing important Steeltalon. And by the way, would you mind handing me a needle?”
Steeltalon:
“Oh yeah, sure. What size would you like?”
“Any would do.”
Steeltalon pulls up a small casing filled with needles from his coat:
“Well, I have a 5 cm one, an 8 cm one with a-…”
“Just give me a pointy one.”
“Sure.”
Steeltalon pulls up a long needle from the casing and gives it to Wingfried. Wingfried then turns to the crowd and says:
“Without any more delays, let's get this over with.”
He opens up his claw, and just as he was about to sting the needle into one of his fingers, he looks at the crowd again:
“…I just want all of you to know… that’s been an honor working with you…”
And forcefully stings his finger and turns back to the box. As he sees the drip of blood coming from his finger, he puts his blood-soaked finger on the “three-pointed sword of Maar”.
Out of all the griffons in the room, only Edler doesn’t widen his distance with Wingfried despite being right next to him, as Edler eventually asks:
“So… does it hurt yet?”
Wingfried asks him without making eye contact:
“Edler, you know standing right next to me might affect you. Perhaps, you might want to take a couple of steps back.”
“And perhaps, I don’t want to. Just don’t mind me…”
Everygriff in the room now fixated their eyes on the box, waiting for a reaction… even if there’s going to be a reaction... A minute after with no response coming from the box, Wingfried starts to doubt whether the box is genuine or not. Again, without making eye contact, asks Edler:
“Edler, do you think we are doing it wrong- “
A ticking noise comes from the box, making everyone frightened for a moment. Wingfried gulps, as he watches the bloody circular symbol starting to spin. Everygriff gets even more nervous as the ticking from the spinning symbol intensifies, some started questioning whether or not they should leave now before it might be too late. And even though many are scared, some of them were captivated by the history unfolding right before them. Eisen was particularly having the time of his lifetime, he raucously and enthusiastically proclaims:
“It’s- It’s unlocking itself! It’s unlocking itself! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Edler was closely watching the Relic with cold eyes as if it was nothing new to him, Demetrius was rightfully nervous but not terrified enough to leave the room, and Wilhelm was inquiring whether the thing in front of him was an act of blasphemy or not, Erika was praying that ‘her Führer’ makes out of this alive, and Steeltalon was using one of his needles to pick up a piece of food he got stuck in his beak and was observing the scene as if he was watching a play. As for the rest, it was a mixture of fascination and horror.
After a minute, the symbol on the box stops spinning with a click sound. Wingfried then puts his claws on the box and pulls up the upper section of the box as if it was unlocked the whole time. On the inside, it was a simple marble box with nothing in it. But what Wingfried find to be scary in it was the fact that there was no visible lock mechanism. And even though he didn’t know what he was supposed to do next, he felt like he needed to put his claw inside the box to fully activate it, and without a second thought, he does exactly that and starts waiting.
He feels tension and fear. Fearful for that he and the others still had no idea what this relic was capable of. The fear of the unknown…
As he struggles with breathing, he could hear his heart beating, and feel the adrenalin rushing down his veins. He kept on waiting, and waiting, and waiting… for minutes, maybe hours, he couldn’t care about time anymore. He felt like he was losing his mind, and tries to ask Edler for help with a fatigued tone:
“Edler… I’m… I’m not doing so well… I need you to…”
Wingfried feels something is off, he turns to the spot Edler was standing… just to see he’s not there anymore. He then turns to the crowd… just to see they too are gone. He looks around the room and sees the room empty. He thinks to himself; “But… where are they? I didn’t see or hear anyone quitting the room, and even if they left without my approval, then where are the guards? Why would they leave me alone like this?... Wait… what is that sound?” Wingfried starts hearing a peculiar humming echo as if the whole world was quietly vibrating. He gets even more anxious, feeling like he could collapse at any moment now from the pressure.
He desperately looks around the room, with no sign of anything or anyone. Everything is intact and familiar to him, but somehow, it feels strange. He was not sure if he was dreaming, dying, going insane, or perhaps a combination of all of them.
After staring at this eerie dream-like scene for too long, Wingfried remembers why he was even there in the first place; “The box!”.
And even though he did recall the box… he felt like he didn’t want to turn back and look at it. He had no idea why he was having this emotion, but he felt like something terrible would happen if he turned around and looked at it, all while he couldn’t comprehend the cause behind these thoughts. He again thinks to himself; “What even are these thoughts? These aren’t my thoughts! Why would I be afraid of looking at a box?... But yet… why I do want to look at it again?... I don’t want to… I… I… must…”
Wingfried turns around.
And he starts screaming the very second. There’s no way on the earth he could comprehend what is in front of him, seeing the fabric of reality getting absorbed by a literal void in the fabric of existence. Wingfried continues to scream, while completely losing his mind in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t even realize that his scream had no voice, as he couldn’t even hear a thing. His vision starts to blur, his clothing starts to ignite, he feels all of his organs shutting down and his beak is about to break apart from screaming mutely. He didn’t feel horror because he was well beyond the point of feeling anything. In mere seconds, he completely loses his sight.
Darkness.
Emptiness.
Void.