User blog:Skylord Elberich/The Fallen Angel

Vidalia was by the docks of Necropolis. She often came down there to clear her mind and relax, as viewing the ocean filled her with a sense of peace. It was also the only part of Necropolis not completely obstructed by high walls, allowing her a full view of the open ocean. It wasn't perfect, of course, as the dark, grey sky was still present, and there was often a thick fog surrounding the area, but she still prefered it to most parts of the city.

She was deep in an almost trance-like state, when she heard the loud, unmistakeable sound of a car acting up. She turned around and saw the Collector get out of a Rolls Royce Phantom, and kick the front grille in exasperation. Vidalia walked up to the Collector, and asked, smirking "Car trouble?" The Collector answered "Oh, har-har, Vidalia." He then popped open the bonnet, and they were greeted by a facefull of steam, causing the Collector to shout a lengthy string of expletives usually reserved for people that cheated on his daughter, right before he chipped their incisors with his fist. Vidalia said, in dull surprise "Wow. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" The Collector said "Never met her, so no." Vidalia, embarrassed, quickly changed the subject. "So, your engine's acting up, huh?" She asked, genuinely intrigued. The Collector sighed, and said "Damn thing's been failing more often as of late." Vidalia took a look at the engine, and muttered "I bet I could fix this." She turned to the Collector, and asked "You mind if I get my tools?" The Collector, unaware Vidalia had any other tools than her wrench, answered "Um... sure."

When Vidalia returned with her toolbox, The Collector witnessed Vidalia's true talent. Her ability as a mechanic rivalled those of the most skilled Dwarven artisans. Within the hour, she had not only fixed the engine, she had somehow improved it as well, and it ran as sweet as a nut. Vidalia, when she finished, closed the bonnet and, with a flourish, sang "Ta-daa!" The Collector, for a while, was somewhat speechless. But then his shocked expression slowly turned into a giant grin. "Vidalia, this is just what I've been looking for!" He exclaimed, ecstatic. "Looking for...what?" Vidalia enquired, not entirely sure if she would like the answer. The Collector did not answer Vidalia's question, instead telling her "I'll give you a lift to the shop, and you get yourself that longcoat and that pair of goggles I've seen you eyeing up, all on me."

Vidalia walked out of the shop, holding the items she was asked to get, along with something else. "Yo, Mr C!" Vidalia called out to the Collector, who was waiting out by the Rolls Royce, which was a heavily customised jet-black Phantom IV he refered to as 'The Nightlander'. Vidalia called out "I also saw this old knit cap I kinda like. Can I keep it?" The Collector answered "Yes, yes, of course! Put it on, and the coat and goggles as well! Where we're going, you'll need them!" Vidalia complied, worrying where the hell they were going. During the car ride, she noticed that the Collector was quite exited, but also tense.

"Vidalia, do you know why the sky here is always gray?" Vidalia shrugged her shoulders and facetiously answered "Years of air pollution creating an irrepairable effect on the local stratosphere?" The Collector chuckled and said "No. Those gray clouds are actually made of ash." He explained "Beyond the walls of Necropolis, there is nothing but ash deserts, for miles around. Blows in from Mount Duervon, a whole country away. 'Course, buried beneath all that ash is abandoned armoured vehicles. Tanks, and stuff like that." Vidalia, who found this to be a lot to take in, simply asked "How?" The Collector continued to explain "Well, during the period you know as World War Two, the Nazis got wind of Lucem's existance, and tried to gain control. Of course, they failed, thanks to yours truly! But, during their retreat, they left a lot of their tech."

Vidalia scoffed "And you think I can repair it? You gotta be crazy." The Collector chuckled and said "If you could get my bloody car to work, I reckon you get an entire battalion to work!" Vidalia still was skeptical. "Tell you what," The Collector challenged "If you can get one tank going, I'll quadruple your wages." This intrigued Vidalia, who asked "And if I don't..."The Collector answered, smirking "I'll only double them." Vidalia snarked, with a very septicious grin "Oh, gee, I think the stakes might be too high... Ah, why the hell not!"

They eventually reached the front gate of Necropolis, and it was a awe-and-fear-inspiring sight. It was tall, dwarfing even the tallest Ogres, and made of polished obsidian, imported from Duervon. It was decorated with figures of skeletons, skulls wreathed in roses and hourglasses, all mememto mori. But the most prominent figure was a winged, cloaked figure holding a scythe, whose face seemed to be obscured by a strange mask. Vidalia took this to be some incarnation of death. The whole gate, to her, seemed to be a great big miserable work of art.

The Collector called out to Vidalia "Come along! This way!" And directed her towards a small postern at the side of the gate, to the ash wastes outside the great walls of Necropolis. What Vidalia saw was a desolate wasteland, where nothing could possibly live, and the only proof of any for of civilisation was the city itself, and the road that led to it. She was actually surprised that there was a surviving settlement out here at all, let alone a thriving city. She then noticed two individuals around an armoured vehicle on the roadside. One of them was a Sandstrider, the tall race of man that come from Aljurada, a place of hot deserts and verdant savanahs. The other was a Gremlin, a race of desert-dweling gnomes from Avalon. The Collector called out to them "Any luck getting it started?" The gnome shook his head and said, with an accent similar to a lancastrian dialect "'Fraid not, Sal. I've tried my damnedest, but the thing simply won't start." The Collector said "Ah, well. S'pose it won't do any harm in letting my apprentice, Vidalia, have a go?" The Gemlin squinted his eyes in suspicion. "And why should I, eh?" He asked, apprehensively "If I can't get the ruddy thing going, what makes you think she can?" The Collector leaned in, and whispered "Because she managed to fix the Nightlander." Both the Gremlin and the Sandstrider's eyes widened, and the Gremlin replied "Bloody 'ell. S'pose I should let her do her thing, then." He then motioned towards the armoured vehicle, and Vidalia went over to it, tools in hand and grinning like a maniac.

It took Vidalia an hour or so to fix it, but all the time, the Gremlin and the Sandstrider watched in disbelief. When she had finished, Gremlin asked her "Where did you learn all this?" Vidalia shrugged and merely said "Self taught, I guess." The Sandstrider then said "No, that is not possible. You must have learned it from Roarie! Only other person I know with such mastery over machines." The Collector butted in, saying "She's from Mundi." The Gremlin and the Sandstrider were shocked into silence. "So," Vidalia said, chuckling "We just gonna sit around here, or we gonna fix some machines?"

The Collector properly introduced the two other members of his team to Vidalia. The Gremlin was named Gordon, and he was hired by the Collector as an electrician and mechanic. The Sandstrider, a fellow called Ashad, was hired for mostly manual labour, but he also an expert metalurgist, so any machines deemed broken beyond repair were stipped of working parts and the rest became his to melt down.

They were working, day and night, fixing and reclaming machines lost under countless ash storms. Gordon dealt mainly with the electronics, Vidalia tinkered with the engines, Ashad piled the irrepairable onto the fixed, and the Collector kept track of the resources. But one day, the winds began to build up, and Ashan saw something on the horizon.

"Ash storm." He whispered to himself, then turned to his collegues and yelled "ASH STORM!!!" Gordon and the Collector saw he wasn't lying, and they ran for cover in the armoured vehicle they had been using to traverse the ash wastes. Vidalia, unfortunately, was too transfixed with repairing an old gearbox in a run-down jeep, and when she realised the situation, it was already too late, and the ash storm was upon her. Eye protection and a long coat wasn't going to save ger now, as the ash filled her lungs and choked the life out of her. As she collapsed from exhaustion he noticed a shape loom above her. She thought it might be Ashad, but she couldn't tell due to the ash obstructing her vision. As she lost conciousness, she saw pale hands reaching towards her.

Vidalia woke up in an unfamiliar place. Tiled floors, brick walls, barred windows and an iron door - it resembled a patient's cell from an insane asylum. When Vidalia finally managed to sit up, she noticed that she was not in her clothes. Instead, she was wearing a pure white nightgown that appeared to be from the victorian era. She also noticed she was on a drip. Who- or what ever had abducted her, they had gone to great lengths to keep her from dying. As she sat up, she heard a shrill voice speak.

"You are alive!" It exclaimed, it's source currently unknown to Vidalia. "Joys abound! Hip and hurrah! Kind Mistress will be pleased!" Vidalia, still groggy from waking up with a monstrous headache, clutched her head and asked "Who... who's there?" Without warning, a strange black creature jumped onto her bed, startling Vidalia a fair bit. The creature said "My name is Dis, short for Discord. Pleased to meet you, and to be met by you!"

Pan was a peculiar creature. He appeared to be a mix of fox and rabbit, and was covered in shaggy, pitch-black fur, which smelled faintly of mildew and undergrowth. He wore a strange mask mad from the skull of a large bird, through which only his white eyes were visible, and a purply-black waistcoat with brass buttons.

Vidalia asked "So, Dis, how do I get out of here?" Dis shook his head, and said "Oh, no leaving just yet, miss! You barely survived the ash storm the Master dragged you from! Please, you must rest!" They argued about this at great length, until Vidalia finally relented and said "Alright fine! I'll stay in bed, jeez." Dis smiled behind his mask, and turned to hop down to the bed, but be fore he did, he turned to ask "Would you care for any refreshments, miss?" Vidalia was about to grumpily answer 'no', but then she remembered a bit of random trivia that would help her. "Uh... you ever heard of the 'Commonwealth?" She asked, slyly. Dis looked puzzled, and answered "Erm, can't say I have, miss." Vidalia lied  "It's this cocktail that I really, reeeally like, and if I'm gonna be stuck in bed, I at least want something that'll distract me from my misery." Dis said "Well, if you insist miss!" and scurried of to the kitchen to make her a common wealth, completetly unaware that it contained 71 ingredients. Vidalia wore a false smile untill Dis left, at which point it became a sly grin, and she whispered "Sucker."

Vidalia decided to see if she could stand on her own, touching her feet to the cold, grimy floor. She pushed herself off the bed, and... she remained on her feet. She stumbled towards the rusty iron door, which Dis had forggoten to lock, and simply pushed it open. She opened the door and wandered into the hallway, dragging her drip with her.

The hallway was full of strange tomes and stranger specimens. The walls were covered with notes pertaining the results of illogical and disturbing experiments. She wondered if the Collector had an insane twin with an obsession with eldritch lore, and that they had scooped her up. From a doorway she heard muttering- or was it chanting? Either way, she decided to have a look, and what she saw was, to say the least, terrifying.

The room had bookcases full to the brim with eldritch codexes and more monstrous specimens. Disturbing symbols decorated the floor and parts of the wall not plastered with notes. There was a workbench, and someone... or something hunched over it. Vidalia thought it might have been a sandstrider, but noticed it was much too thin and too pale to be a sandstrider, but it was too tall to be a plainsman like herself. Whatever it was, it look somewhat like an arabian scholar, wearing loose-fitting robes and a black turban, and it had white hair, and a moustache to go with it.

And then it looked round.

Vidalia didn't get a good look at it's face, as she hid from it, but she was fairly certain it had no face- well, it had a mouth, but a mouth alone does not a face make. And she was trapped i the same building in it. What she didn't know was that the faceless being had caught a quick glimpse of Vidalia as well, though it didn't know it was her. "Ist hat you, Artie?" It called out. Vidalia, silently sobbing with fear, prayed it didn't come out to investigate. Thankfully, it did not, and it shook it's head and assumed that it was just "Artie" playing tricks on it, and went back to it's experimental ritual. Vidalia crept round to see what the creature was doing, unaware of the prescence behind her. Said prescence could be seen as a female version of the creature that Vidalia was currently spying on, except it was wearing a women's business suit. It snuck up behind her and whispered "What'cha looking at?"

Vidalia screamed and tried to scrabble away. "Oh goodness, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you that much!" The tall creature apologised "How about I make you a cup of tea, hmm?" But Vidalia just kept screaming. The other tall creature, distracted by Vidalia's screaming, entered the hallway, where Vidalia screamed at it. "What the fuck is going on, Artemis?!" It asked, Vidalia was no longer screaming, but curled up into the fetal position and sobbing profusely. "I dunno!" Artemis protested "She seemed to be up and about, so I tried to give her a little scare is all!" The creature pinched where the bridge of his nose would be, and explained "She didn't know about us, Artie, I thought you would have guessed that!" Artemis crossed her arms in anger and retorted "Well, it wouldn't hurt to have a brother who would fucking tell me this sort of thing from time to time!" The other creature rubbed his temples and said "Let's save the argument for later, right now we need to deal with the Collector's sobbing apprentice who is in dire need of a cup of tea." Artemis said, huffily "I'll have Dis put the kettle on, you get the poor girl to a seat."

Vidalia, now sitting down with a warm drink in her hands, had calmed down a bit now. "Sorry about earlier. I'm not really used to... faceless.. people..." Artemis handwaved and said "If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. I didn't mean to scare you into hysterics, just give you a little shock. I thought the Collector would have told you about me and my brother, and the others, too." Vidalia asked "Others? What others?" The other tall creature, who usually went by 'The Occultist' came in and quickly interupted "I'm sure the Collector will explain. For now, it's probably in your best interests to get some rest." He then left the room, muttering to himself. Artemis shook her head and said "Sorry about him. He's been in a right state since Robbi disappeared." Vidalia asked "Robbi? Who's that?" Artemis picked up a photo from the side table and gave it to Vidalia.

The photo showed The Occultist, next to a smiling little girl with long, greenish-blonde hair, a little black nose, and a pair of curved goat horns. Artemis explained "Robyn Goodfellow, that was her full name. She was a Glaistig, you see, but my brother treated her like his own daughter." Vidalia recognised the name 'Glaistig' "I heard about them... didn't they all dissapear or something like that?" Artemis nodded "Last of her kind." Vidalia handed the photo back to Artemis, who looked at it dolefully. "She'd always wanted to find out what happened her to her people, so when she had the resources, she went to Avalon, to learn what she she could from the Nyctos about her people." Artemis sighed, "She was declared missing a few weeks after we last saw her."

Vidalia felt bad for Artemis and her brother "I'm so sorry" was all she could say. Artemis shrugged and said "Let's change the subject, shall we? You're probably wondering what the hell I am, yeah?" Vidalia stayed silent. Artemis continued "Well, let's just say..." But the Occultist interupted, saying "We're fallen angels. From heaven. As in, we pissed off all the Gods and they sent us down here." Vidalia began laughing, but trailed off when she noticed she was the only one. "You're... serious, aren't you?" Vidalia asked, afraid she was now relying on the mercy of two madpeople, or divine beings, both prospects being equally terrifying. The Occultist sighed, and said "You think we're insane. A common asumption, but mostly incorrect." There was a knock at the door, and Artemis got up, saying "Ah, that must be the Collector!" She then went to get the door, and The Occultist went to collect Vidalia's belongings.

Artemis showed the Collector into the front room, who looked positively overwrought. When he saw Vidalia was mostly alright, he clutched his chest in relief and said "Oh, thank the Gods, you're alright." Vidalia crossed her arms and said "You sure took your time." The Collector, looking down at the floor in shame, said "I'm sorry I left you out in that storm, I really am. I tried to brave the storm, but the others wouldn't let me, so I had The Occultist pick you up." He then looked up, and said "If you wish to leave my employment, I completely understand." Vidalia smirked "And miss out on a 400% raise? I don't think so. Plus, this is the second time you've saved my life, so it'd be kinda ungrateful of me."

After Vidalia had finished her tea, changed back into her proper clothes, and left with the Collector, she asked "Are they... really... y'know, fallen angels?" The Collector nodded, and said "And that's really the least of it." He then began to explain "Have you ever heard of 'The Fears', Vidalia?"