The Siege of Ultopja 11 – The Influence outside [Zerine]

Zerine does her beast to overhear the crackling noises of the fight below. She knew what would happen the moment Catherine asked her to leave. Maybe if she turns around now she can still…do what exactly? Die between two witches throwing spell works at each other.

‘How did I land here?’ She thinks, not for the first time and certainly not for the last as she climbs the floors of the tall building. On each floor, several members of the mages are already working on subduing the rodents with quick bolts of electricity. She tries to get the attention of several of the people running by, but they all are too busy to realize her barely raised hand.

This continues for a few minutes until she finally gathers her courage and says, “Can anyone inform me what is going on.” The mages look at each other in confusion. A single man steps forwards, “Of course, Lady Zerine.” He says. The rest, only now realizing who the nervous girl at their midst is, offer their respects. “Thank you, ehm, let’s go over there, we shouldn’t be in the way.” She says in points at an empty corner of the torch lit storage hall.

Once there Zerine bows slightly, “Thanks for your time.” The man bows in return, deeper and full of respect he answers. “Not at all. I have been an admirer of yours ever since you made that speech at the day of the liberation. I am honoured to answer your questions.” Zerine gulps, she sometimes got compliments like these and every time she was more nervous afterwards. What if she didn’t meet their expectations after all?

“So, where do all these rats come from?” “We don’t know, they weren’t here yesterday.” Zerine looks confused, “You mean you hadn’t found them yesterday?” The male mage sinks together a bit. “It would seem that way, yes. We scanned every day; the vermin must have hidden very deep inside the stocks…”

His eyes wander over to the mages who are current nailing a few more of the rats to the floor with small ice lances. Zerine follows his eyes. Disgusted by the squeaks of death as the creatures die she turns away. They sound unnatural, as if the rats forgot how to use their own vocal cords. They also run not with the usual creepy agility that these rodents normally possess but the confusion of headless chickens.

“Some very weird rats.” She says. “Yes.” The mage agrees.