Index:
Episode 1 - The League of Iron assembles
Episode 3 - Legacy of the Veil Breakers
Episode 7 - Home is where the hearth is
Episode 8 - Last of the Old Ones
Episode 15 - March of the parasites
Stolen magicks.
The mistress of these chambers was surrounded by arcane trappings not of her making. Thirteen in number, the lids of ancient wizard sarcophagi served as her tables. Tanned human, elven, and dwarven skin was sewn into beautiful in her eye tapestries. Bowls, cups, and plates made from reforged magickal amulets dotted nearly every flat surface. Oft, the things which writhed inside twitched and, squirming, made an escape attempt most futile.
Tall windows cast from clean glass, crystal, and gems, filtered the sunlight. Bone-forged chairs crooked the daylight, forging a number of warped shadows which crawled obediently across the carpeted, marble floors. Blond, red, black, and brunette, the hairs that this marvelous furnishing was weaved from became one of her recent and most prized possessions.
At the furthermost end of her chambers, flanked on all sides by an onyx colonnade, there glowed the Red Hag's summoning circle. The five jet-black columns were forged by magicks and bathed in the sacrificial blood of six hundred and sixty six little boys... each. Between them there was an intricately drawn line of red salt, mixed with the dried hearts of one hundred and nine wizards. It was well-groomed and uninterrupted, thus blocking the passage of any daemon called forth before her power.
With a tired frown and an angered sigh did the Mistress of Flesh approach the most important tool of her trade. She paced around it, inspected the columns, her fingers lovingly tracing each and every warped, sorrowful child's visage that their surfaces were dotted with. With care, the hag charged her stave and lit, one after another, thirteen candles of black wax.
She assumed her best conjuration stance and, red flames dotting her beautiful head chanted:
Answer, obey, oh soul of another plane,
I grant thee safety upon my circle of arcane!
Bow thy head and surrender yourself into my will,
I shan't asketh thee to grovel or to kill!
For there is a distant land thy eyes shalt spy,
Recount of words avowed and acts of mortals I decry!
Six long breaths echoed across the chamber before, finally, something began to materialize in the center of her summoning circle. A success, yet painfully slow did this called forth thrall shape its forms, and most weird its appearing was. 'Twas as if the summoned cloaked itself with an overgarment made of liquid glass. Definitely humanoid, though still a bit shapeless, opaque, and shrouded in a miasma of the darkest dark.
“Bow.” - The Red Hag ordered with a calm, victorious smirk.
“Thou are neht mein maisterr.” - Answered the thing with a deep, luscious female voice.
“Obey, for it is I who hath enabled thy trek across plane and cosmos!” - Annoyed, the hag stomped the floor with her powerful stave, and commanded:
“And speak not in this thrice accursed Telvonian, but the Thulm tongue.”
“Glaubst thy hath imprisoned mich in thy magiick zircle?”
Its mirror garment deflecting nothing but patches of gently scintillating darkness, the mysterious being cackled. Before the stunned hag could react, her summon casually stepped over the line of red salt, disturbing one small section of it in the process.
“Halt or I will kill thee!” - Promised the Red Hag, her blistering in red fire and lighting stave aimed at the defiant creature.
“Thou promised mich the safety of thy summoning zircle, Hag.” - Said the woman which now stood before her, and there was not even a speck of fear in her voice.
The glass garment had transmogrified itself into a marvelous to behold long gown of ancient fashion. Skin of dark olive, a pair of gleaming black eyes with irises of red studied the Hag from head to toe with measured glee. The nine elbow tall woman's hair of bright red was shaped in a long since forgotten royal hairdo, and crowned with the most elaborately crafted, crystal tiara.
One angered to the point of screaming and the other calmer than the calmest waters, there were barely two steps between the two.
“Who are you?!” - Eye twitching inquired the Red Hag, and aimed her burning stave straight at the woman's head since she finally realized that her summoning had failed.
“Ich?” - said the giggling woman, fluttering with her wooden Brisé fan, embroidered in gold and silver threads - “I am Astella, queen of Telvonia.”
Stupefied, the Red Hag's eyes darted from one item to another, seeking a polished, mirror surface. Witnessing her host's distress, Astella raised the fan to cover her mouth and snickered.
“Seek if thou must... find nothing thou shalt.” - Promised the ancient Telvonian woman, and left eyebrow playfully raised closed her fan, repeating her previous declaration:
“Ich ask thee once more, Hag. Was thy promise of safety, falsh?”
“A witch's promise of the arcane cannot be a lie!” - The witch nearly choked on her rage, yet managed to wrest control of herself, and stave fully charged with deathly magicks, asked - “If not bound to my will, then how... no, why are you here?!”
Moving in the most nonchalant manner possible, the olden Telvonian royalty positioned her behind in one of the tall, bone-forged chairs. However, before she sat in it, Astella produced one embroidered handkerchief from her gown's left sleeve. With elegant, sparing motions, displaying visible disgust, the noblesse wiped whatever dust or grime she imagined this macabre piece of furniture was caked with.
“My liebe Hag,” - The queen hid another, much wider smile behind her Brisé - “I answered thy call for aid.”
The Red Hag inhaled and exhaled, at least a dozen magicks swirling in her mind. Ready, surging through the marvelous form of her flesh stave were these brutal incantations, to be unleashed upon her thought. The stave remained upright and aglow when she left it, as if impaled into the stony floor of her chambers, held by invisible hands. With a most annoyed hiss, the Red Hag sat across the table and crossed her hands, eyes locked at her unwelcomed guest.
“Why?”
The queen sighed, canted her head in rather measured, courtly manner, and tapped the table with slight annoyance.
“Because... I want to?”
“What is your price?”
“There is ein Neldaeiri pest I want removed. In exchange, I will recount the words of all those mortals thou decries, liebe Hag.”
“How can you possibly move or witness like a daemon could?!” - The hag asked, her eyes squinted and mind working with the utmost intensity, measuring one possible ploy after another.
Astella pointed her fan at one of the tall windows behind, her perfect face adorned with slight annoyance.
“I need not walk the daemon walk. Yet, suffice it to say, thou will learn exactly what thy Lord desires.”
The hag closed her fists and normalized her breathing, eyes studying the dhampiir's perfect face. There was not a single hint of emotion other than what Astella wanted her to see. However, it was well known among the hags that this monstrous Telvonian queen reviled the Neldaeiri, and by proxy, all of their allies. A being, the existence of which she herself did not even believe in, now sat across her table and crossed gaze with hers.
Unwilling to clash magicks with creature of horrid legend, she decided to strike a deal and spat a hag's spittle on her palm.
“Is this... necessary?”
“A contract that binds us must be properly sealed.” - Now it was the Red Hag's turn to cackle.
“Then avow that the knight clad in white will be the one sent to crush my pest.”
“What does it even matter who, what, or how is thy Neldaeiri pest slain?”
“It is only natural for another Neldaeir, one who bows so willingly before thy Lord, to cross swords with my enemy.”
“I willingly agree with your request. Of course, you will tell me what fate befell my Veil Breaker underlings, and reconnoiter the Ruined lands for my Lord. He wishes to know what manner of host is marching against him.”
Having heard this, the dhampiir smiled and shook her hand. Immediately after sealing the deal, Astella proceeded to vigorously wipe the hag's spittle with her handkerchief.
“It is agreeable for mich to have this?” - Asked the Telvonian, and her fan tapped a polished cup.
“Yes, yes it is. Now, tell me all that you know... without reconnoitering, that is.” - the Red Hag rescinded all of the magicks she'd been keeping alive till now and somehow managed to conceal her fatigue.
“These corpsified underlings of yours, they were crushed by a mistress of creation magicks and not just any Arkan kin, but a Maiden Sorceress of great power. A Knight, stumpy Dwarven Ranger, and thick with muscles Elven priest stand by her sorcerous side. The four now roam a ruined metropolis... exactly where thy Lord marches his armies.”
“Weistarr!?” - The hag gulped nervously since many hundreds of Thulm had already marched into the tunnels, followed by a lumbering trail of supply wagons.
“What lurks in the Ruined lands I shalt know in three days.” - said the queen and stood up with such graceful speed, that most of her movements escaped the eye.
Her body became enshrouded in a glistening, mirror-like garment, and before the dhampiir vanished, swallowed by the cup's polished surface, she warned:
“Thy white Knight best vanquish my enemy, or our deal shalt be made null and void...”
Wasting not a single breath, the Red Hag snatched her stave and, with the utmost of haste entered the Gate-Wall leading straight into her Overlord's throne room. The two women gone and the witch's chamber was at peace... for but a few short moments.
One gnarled shadow elongated unnaturally and ever so swiftly, slithered across the illustrious carpet of hair. This thing traversed crystal window and ran down encased in jeweled skeletons tower walls with little effort. Crept in murky wynd, hid in cracked brick, and under mossy tile, the thing went unnoticed by Bone Raider and Flesh Witch.
As soon as this patch of shadow left Zhul and found a hidden spot, it transmogrified into a humanoid. Tall, yet not too large, this imposing muscular man was not of this cosmos. Skin of dark blue, multiple rows of razor sharp teeth, six, faceted eyes, and seven fingered hands, 'twas a daemon most vicious.
No sooner did he cast off his shadowy cloak and the man shook his fist at the Overlord's tower:
“Thou shan't murder her!”
***
Dear reader, if you liked this story, you might enjoy my published work.
Because of certain words, I'm convinced one of the languages you have the characters speaking is really German.
Love the Witch, and love the use of German, this gave a very odd feeling like a mix of a JRPG and also that of a witch taken directly from the Brothers Grimm. I love that you harkened back to the 19th century Germany, which was truly a great time for Germany and brought such a wicked delightfulness to this villainess! Is she possibly inspired by the villainess from the Brothers Grimm reboot movie from 2005 or so?