Blessed Clay 3 - The governess of Brikstrat 1

The twins enter the governess’s office without problems. Although they had uses a good amount of ‘Oral convincing’ to get Uklag and Droy to enter the fort with them the males still had to wait in the floor outside the office. The guards were insistent on that point and the amount of ‘arguments’ needed to sway them otherwise was not worth it in Uklag’s eyes.

“There you are! Anna, Alja.” Halja says in an almost too cheerful mood. The governess is a short woman, a bit on the chubby side but by no means fat or ugly because of it. Her full breasts jiggle as she steps around her table and embraces the disguised demons. ‘Really, those are your fake names?’ Uklag’s amused voice rings through their mental connection. He is following the events from the other side of the door, leaning against the wall eyes closed as he has Droy keep a lookout. ‘Shut up.” Aelana throws back at him. He does so for the moment.

“Can I get you something? Tea, Coffee, Cake? Of course I mean to tell one of my drones to get it for me.” Halja blabbers without a pause as her cheery tone slowly slips into anger. “Speaking of drones, how come the one I gave you is still able to speak? You promised me to cut his tongue out.”

“I’m sorry Halja.” Says Analea, “But without a tongue he just seems so useless.” Halja raises an eyebrow and opens her mouth to say something in response. Before Uklag can hear it however he feels an armoured hand tap on his shoulder. With a silent sigh, he opens his eyes.

A guard stares down on him with outmost disrespect and impatience. “Come with me.” She commands and turns around without waiting for an answer. Another guards gives Droy the same order. Uklag obeys, chances are that they are told to take them hostages. Which in turn means that they will bring them directly to Zal.

He gives the twins a quick status update before cutting the connection with the order ‘Keep Halja busy.’

Uklag and Droy follow the guards orders and walk down a flight of stairs. One in front of them the other one at the rear they continue their walk through hallways and more stairs. The castle is lit by daylight that shines through the many windows. From where they currently are Uklag has a great view over the inner city. Female traders and crafter tumble down there doing what they do best: Business.

Business that keep a healthy economy going, an economy that surely pays out with a lot of tax money. Uklag smirks a little as he thinks about what he could achieve with an economy guided by his personal interest. Maybe it was time to get more than just the information about the mine from Halja.

Then again, first he had to find his First-Servant. The city vanishes from sight as they go down another staircase into the depths of the caste. The air becomes damp as the golden light of the sun is pushed away by that flickering red of torches and candles.

“In there.” The guardess in front of them point at a cell with iron bars that span between the ceiling and the ground. The door opens with a click when she turns the key and swings with the sound of rusted metal. Inside the cell sits Zal, who doesn’t look at all surprised to see his master down here as he simply awaits Uklag to free him.

Droy on the other hand seems like he would rather die than step into another cell. “Why?” Uklag asks and cracks his neck. This was about to get messy. “You dare question the authority of a woman? No less, the governess personal guard?” A yawn as all the answer he can muster. “You mistresses must have a bad a taste in servants as they have in attire. Dressing like a magus is enough to imprison both of you.”

The other guard is stepping in front of Uklag now, she draws her shortsword and raises it up to his eyes in an intimidating fashion. “Get in.” she growls. With anyone else this would have likely worked but Uklag isn’t just anyone.

“I have to decline your offer, you see, my friend hates cages and as someone who has spent the better part of a month inside one that was strapped on a cart I rather dislike them as well.” The sword is raised just a tiny bit higher, almost cutting into his nose. “Last warning. Get. In. the. Ce- Aaaaaagh!” she never gets to finish her sentence as she suddenly lights up and becomes a pillar of red flames.

The short sword falls to the ground as she tumbles around, screaming, before finally she collapses. Her still burning corpse lies at the ground. Uklag doesn’t even look at it, instead concentrating on the second guard whose face has become pale.

“You are the real magus.” She realizes the obvious and Uklag shrugs. “Yeah. An and Al really have your officials under their boots if you don’t even realize something that obvious. So, any reinforcements we have to deal with?” The guard shakes her head, hoping that if she appeases the warlock she might be spared.

“That is good to hear. Zal, how are you?” The First-Servant takes the question as a signal to finally leave the cell. “I am well, Master.” He says, however a big bruise under his right eye and the slight groan of pain when he bows tell another story.

“Well enough to move yes. Nobody touches my servants without them being huge masochists or me allowing it.” Uklag angrily says. “Who is to blame for this?” The guard suddenly starts running as if she realized that she was hunted by a pack of wolves. Granted a pack of wolves would have been less dangerous.

“I guess I have my answer.” Uklag raises his right hand. With a crackling sound a flash of light races after the guard and strikes her straight in the back. The impact throws her a couple of metres down the dungeons hallway as her body takes the full blow.

“Let’s get back upstairs.” Droy nods as utters a “As you wish, Master.” And they walk back the way they came.