Post by Gellert Grindelwald on Aug 22, 2007 14:24:31 GMT -5
Gellert Grindelwald, the most powerful wizard the world had ever known, walked the streets of London, out in the open, not a single worry about the bounty on his head. Gellert knew that the wizards of Britain were after him because of the massacre committed in a small muggle village, but he knew none could match his abilities so he had no hesitation to simply walk around in the open.
It was a gloomy day, the sky was gray, the air smelled as if it were about to rain. There were posters and televisions in all of the windows, reporting on the massacre committed by Gellert and his followers. The muggle authorities claimed that a gas leak had killed many of the people, and then caused an explosion, but the Ministry knew what had really happened. They knew that this was just the first strike on Britain by Grindelwald, and Gellert knew that one day the world would cower at his feet.
The warm wind whipped Gellert's long, dark golden robes all around. The muggles gave him odd looks for his attire, but he cared not. A maniacal smirk played across Gellert's face as he looked at the muggle, picturing the day he would conquer Britain and have his men hunt them all for sport, because after all that's what muggles were, nothing but animals which belonged at the feet of wizards. As his eyes moved from person to person, he noticed every once in awhile when someone would see him fear would erupt onto their faces, their eyes flashing to the wand in his hand, they'd turn and hurry away, Gellert knew these people were wizards and witches who recognized him, but none of them attempted to do anything. Gellert was much too powerful, he would dispose of them with nothing more than a flick of his wrist.
Grindelwald walked casually, the Elder Wand he had won from Gregorovitch twirling in his fingers. Muggles would look confused at the sight of the stick in his hand, while those who recognized him fled at the sight of it. Grindelwald had an inkling of hope that one of the wizards on the street had a spine and would attempt to duel him, it would suffice in ending his boredom.
It was a gloomy day, the sky was gray, the air smelled as if it were about to rain. There were posters and televisions in all of the windows, reporting on the massacre committed by Gellert and his followers. The muggle authorities claimed that a gas leak had killed many of the people, and then caused an explosion, but the Ministry knew what had really happened. They knew that this was just the first strike on Britain by Grindelwald, and Gellert knew that one day the world would cower at his feet.
The warm wind whipped Gellert's long, dark golden robes all around. The muggles gave him odd looks for his attire, but he cared not. A maniacal smirk played across Gellert's face as he looked at the muggle, picturing the day he would conquer Britain and have his men hunt them all for sport, because after all that's what muggles were, nothing but animals which belonged at the feet of wizards. As his eyes moved from person to person, he noticed every once in awhile when someone would see him fear would erupt onto their faces, their eyes flashing to the wand in his hand, they'd turn and hurry away, Gellert knew these people were wizards and witches who recognized him, but none of them attempted to do anything. Gellert was much too powerful, he would dispose of them with nothing more than a flick of his wrist.
Grindelwald walked casually, the Elder Wand he had won from Gregorovitch twirling in his fingers. Muggles would look confused at the sight of the stick in his hand, while those who recognized him fled at the sight of it. Grindelwald had an inkling of hope that one of the wizards on the street had a spine and would attempt to duel him, it would suffice in ending his boredom.