Gregor The Overlander Fan Art Novels & Stories

It is too fun not to mess with him. "I know, I know, I am sorry," I laugh out, continuing. "It started around the time I first got here. I was wondering about the castle, when I came across a painting of Fafnir in dragon form,” I begin to explain. "Why did they have a painting of him?" Soren asks. "It was by mere coincidence, you see; Gregory is a collector of art," I say, thinking back to the beautiful painting of my brother, and the way his eyes glowed with life.

“That beast above you.” Arth raised his head. “What’s he talking ab—” His lips slowly parted in shock, seeing an enormous beast with a bulked-up body. No doubt, it was a bergora, a mixed breed of a polar bear and white gorilla. It stood on the high branches of the tall trees, its dark, brown eyes fierce enough to make Arth’s heart jump. Arth yelled a curse, swiftly stepping backward as the beast suddenly jumped from the branches. The ground shook as the beast landed, strong wind blasting hard.

Some alpha he was! He directed the ray of the flashlight to the left wall and scanned it slowly. The first thing he noticed was a large drawing made with red paint. It was a drawing of a big crescent moon, quite similar to Aella and his mother's tattoos. On the curve of the crescent, like a chair, sat someone with a crudely drawn crown on his head. Logan guessed that the person depicted the Rogue King.

But now, after years of suffering and indignity, they had had enough. Their leader, a grizzled and scarred wolf named Gregor, stood before them, his voice a low growl as he addressed the gathered rogues. His eyes glowed with a mix of fury and desperation, emotions that had been simmering for years, now ready to boil over.

“One of the flesh-eating creatures that Rogues fear, aside from Alphas. They mimic any face you want to see. And when you get close to them, they devour you.” “Scary,” Gregor muttered with a soft chuckle. “There’s nothing funny about it,” I bared my teeth at him. He shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t say it was funny.” I looked at Alpha Gregor from head to toe. Something about him doesn’t feel right. Is he intoxicated or something— I almost shot to my feet at the sudden thought that struck me. What if he is an impostor too? What if he’s a mimic like the Beta Elise I believed I saw that lured me into the White Woods?!

Instead of arguing, I approached the stand and unveiled what lay beneath the cloth—a painting. The three wolves' reactions were immediate and distinct. My father's eyes narrowed in assessment, Derek's widened in appreciation, and Bernard simply looked confused. The painting was extraordinary—a Fenrir-like creature with massive wings, executed in traditional Northern Territory ink style. The beast seemed to leap from the canvas, its green-gold eyes burning with life and power. "Northern Territory ink art—mythical beasts from ancient wolf legends," I explained, watching their reactions carefully. "This is my exploratory business idea."