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Chosen by None - Voshten Greywolf, Chosen

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AltoSanctus122
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Chosen by None - Voshten Greywolf, Chosen

Post#1 » Fri Sep 23, 2022 11:07 pm

Chosen. The Seers had proclaimed him as such. But when he demanded the mewling worm name the god that chose him, the Seer had fallen worrisomely quiet. He had been a young pup then. Full of fire and a desire to prove himself. Winters came and went, and he knew not what god had chosen him. He fought through the snows against rival tribes, weathered the harsh weather of his homeland, even put down a rampaging Forsaken... and through it all, the tribe had mocked and ridiculed him: "Chosen by None."

One day, he had gone south. Past Nordland, as far as Wissenland. There, he met adventurers, brave souls and braggarts, and formed an odd kinship with them- dawi and empire-men they may have been. A band of five men, with Voshten readily becoming their muscle, they travelled the breadth of the Empire, bonding over drink and song and boast and deed, doing battle with all manner of beast and monster- but most especially with ratmen. It was these Skaven that disgusted Voshten most of all. In their paranoia, there were none they would truly call kin. There was no strength, only cowardice and numbers. Belligerent and numerous, they were vile to the extreme in the Norscan's eyes.

And they had drove him over the brink. Disciples of the Crow- of Nurgle, had consorted with the Skaven to destroy his band, his oath-kin, for their interference in their mutual schemes. And if not for a dark bargain, he would have watched his oath-kin die.

Branding himself with a warp-infused tool, he etched the eight-pointed spoke atop his left eye, and beckoned Them in. Hound, Eagle, Serpent, and Crow all spoke to him... but it was to the hushed whispers of a fifth that he was drawn. A twisted honesty was held by that fifth voice, it had no need to tempt him, no need to whisper seductive promises. It merely needed to grant the desire he already held.

"Spare them from death! You may exact whatever price you seek from my hide, from my soul, but I beseech you, let them remain in the mortal coil!" Voshten pleaded.

"In exchange, you shall break the wheel, or die trying, Voshten of Norsca, the unchosen chosen." The voice replied. The pact was struck, and Voshten felt dark power well within him. What followed was a half-remembered blur, sounds, sights and smells detached from memory. All he had known was that his new benefactor had kept his end of the bargain.

But imperiled by the threat of Witch Hunters, his oath-kin could no longer remain at his side, and so, he returned north, years later.

---------

A grim shadow followed in the raven's wake. An aspiring Champion of Tzeentch strode through the burning ruins of an old Norscan settlement. Warp-flame consumed many of the structures, yet there were no magi nearby, save his own. He continued his march deeper into the forgotten tribe's territory... towards the stronghold in ruins.

The great door had not swung open, so much as the hinge had snapped and the door had tipped over as he opened it. But the knight was nevertheless unbarred. He walked past corpses half-devoured or bisected with oddly-clean blows. This had told the knight that whomsoever had done the latter was no amateur, but an experienced warrior- and one possessed of more mindfulness than a berserker. And that he had werekin with him.

In the deepest bowels of the hold, the knight found his mark, sitting upon a throne overlooking a charnel pit which hosted a feast for skin wolves, the knight peered at the shadowed form. "... The Raven has shown you to me, Cho--" That had evidently been the wrong tack to follow, as he felt the warp roil and twist. The werekin growled at him as one, and the shadowed figure stood up, hefting a long sword- too long to be swung with a single hand.

"I am Voshten Greywolf," the figure began, striding into the torchlight to reveal glowing eyes and a branded face, along with the scars of time, his hair white and his visage wrinkled despite the heavy armor he bore, "and I am chosen by none."

It would be several hours before the old juggernaut strode out to meet the Raven Host's recruiters, but all noted how the aspiring champion had been silent as the grave following their meeting- unwilling to speak of what had transpired within... and few realized the true loyalties of the elderly knight they had brought with them.

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