Lucretia had felt its tug, felt its impossible nature from across the city. After her  last escapade to help a beast from the grasp of its master did she feel its tug. Feel it draw her to the shop that lay untouched. Inside it was an impossible maze to find what was calling to her but drawn to it still. She’d stare at the tomb, the language was known to her, but it was unknown to her as well. It sang every song of her people but its voice was naught but silent to her. She’d slowly reach out, her hands clasping on the tome. She felt a tug on her arm and she’d turn to find herself staring at a deathly pale man.

The Last Wolfenstein: A Tale of Sorrow. Are you sure this is what you want…?

Words not spoken but simply understood between the two of them; she stared down at the deathly pale man. His skin hung close to his bones and there was this eerie gaze from him, an almost hungry desire. She’d slowly nod her head at this question. The man's eyes widened a bit as he realized what was standing in front of him. His face spread in a twisted smile and there was a soft laughter. When Lucretia blinked she found herself standing in an empty lot. The shop was gone; her pockets felt lighter…

She’d look down to the book; the words reaching out at her. Caressing her mind and rolling her heels as she felt it tug at the essence she carried. She’d shake her head and turn to go back to the rune knight garrison there. Sitting alone she’d pour over the book; finding that she barely knew enough to translate the ancient text. She knew the title. She knew a single word.

Wolfenstein.

Her name. The name given to her people as a title for a long long time… until she was simply born into it. She’d stand up and slowly walk to the exit of the garrison once she realized that she couldn’t do this on her own. That she needed to go somewhere else. She’d poke around the city, talking to those that she knew. Those that she didn’t. No one seemed to know who could translate it. But her new lieutenant seemed to know someone. A librarian that ran a small shop out on the outskirts of town would know. He knew all sorts of things.

She’d walk there; still pouring over the book. It had consumed every thought she had; she must know the name within it. She must know why it was a tale of sorrow; why that man was willing to part with it and why she had to go out to such a being to learn it’s secrets. Arriving at the library was not a problem; but the problem lay within the fact that she didn’t even know the name of the person she was about to ask help for.

Reaching out to the door of the ‘library’ she’d find that it swung open inviting her in. Voices rolled out to press her into the building and standing within it she could feel the door close behind her. The gaze of hundreds, maybe even thousands rolled over her body and she could feel many of them staring balefully at her. She’d slowly walk forward; her fur standing on end as she approached the desk at the entry.

She’d reach out and ding the bell; looking around before… He showed up. They’d stare at one another for a few long moments; he’d hold out his hand and she’d place the book in it. There was no words said between them; the sharp gasp that rattled his frame gave to her that scent of death. The old robe clutched around him and there was a rolling fit of laughter.

The Last Wolfenstein. But yet here one stands… Hehehehe…

Like the first man, his skin was tight to his bones, no meat, no eyes, just a hollow pitless gaze that stared at her. Pinpoints of ice stared out at her and he’d reach forward, firmly grasping her forearm. Staring harder and harder at her. His grip was like a vice but she didn’t even pull back.

It’s an ancient tome, riddled in magic and riddled by the ancients. Translating will require sacrifice.

She felt the words leave her mouth; said of her own accord. With such intense resolve that the wraith in front of her flinched back. Drawing away from the proud member of a long dead clan. The baleful glares and the stares lessened, everything about this place suddenly shuddered as she claimed what none here would have ever attempted. There was no laughter but simply fear from the being in front of her. But the smile came back after a bit.

Your essence is required. Some of your blood, some of your magic, And a single word. My knowledge to yours and this book will be open to you.

Lucretia stood there; everything screamed to her that she should leave and find someone. Somewhere else; but the part of her mind that was calm and collected… She’d lean on the desk; staring at the wraith. Staring at the man that stank of death. Her face split in a small smile and she felt the panic of the gazes on her. The wraith drew back in fear for a brief instant.

”My Essence you will have, my blood and my magic. Say the word that you need.”

The wraith would draw her into another room; he was quick to have her take a seat. Quicker to set up a magical seal around her. She watched him and folded her arms as he continued the ritual. A bowl was given to her, she poured into it her essence, her magic, her blood. That word that he told her to say. It resonated with such intensity that the building they were in shook. Eyes widened further and the pale man let out a shuddering gasp.

Your essence is powerful. Practically eclipses everyone that has come before.

He’d draw his fingers along the tomb, the knowledge of the tomb would warp and Lucretia’s eyes widened a bit. She felt her essence drain and the words sang out to her. It told her a tale as old as time, about the being that she had stumbled on and the thousands that had come before her. She’d sit there, turning page after page. Her mouth dropping a little bit and she’d look up to the ghastly man in front of her. A wraith of time and the keeper of knowledge.

”You know how to get there?”

I do. But you will not like what you must do, what must come from that place.

Lucretia stood up, the wraith backed away from her and she’d close the book. Putting it away into her pocket. She’d keep it for a time and use to guide her if she needed it. She’d set her hands on the wraith and she could feel it squirm to try to get away from her.

”Then these words you have taught me, show me where it resides.”

What she had uncovered and what had been given to her was something she was still reeling from… but would she give up? No.

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