Eternity RPC Board
There was something nauseating about the witch’s house. Or maybe not something, but maybe everything. The wilted-greens hue that seemed to come from nowhere but fill the entire hovel, the unidentifiable bouquet of odors that described the presence of unseen rotting meat and burning sulfur, the general bog-like haze that had settled in the dwelling and the smoke of burning dried herbs that competed for air space. It made Elke think of squirmy things, slimy things, froggy-buggy-creepy-crawly-putrid things.
She’d bitten back a gag at the mention of “tea” and was honestly surprised to find that it did seem to be a simple case of herbs soaked in hot water. Still, she could picture a goat’s dissected eyeball floating to the surface all too easily and silently dismissed the tea as soon as it was placed in front of her.
To see the witch manipulate objects so easily as Millie, admittedly, was impressive. The crone simply flicked her hand a few mites this way, a few spaces that, and then the table was clear, and the clutter that had once filled its surface was suspended in weightlessness. Levitation of small objects, of course, was not an uncommon feat. It was, in fact, one of the first spells students at the university had been taught, and many with magic-oriented parents had come in with a pre-existing knowledge of levitation spells. It wasn’t the spell itself that had captured Elke’s attention, but it was the fact that the house seemed positively alive with magic. Here was a floating cup, there was a candle that rekindled itself after a draft blew out its flame, movement in the shadows, little flutters at the periphery of her vision. One or two small acts did not account for much required input, but to maintain these little twitches all over the home must have cost at least something.
Elke wondered - was that the explanation for the hag’s appearance? Did witches trade their beauty for magic energy? If that was the case, Millie must be one powerful being, indeed. That tongue. Those teeth. Ugh!
But maybe that wasn’t it at all. Elke didn’t know much about witches, or if they were even really different from mages like herself.
The talk of Nevina being a child caught in her ears like trout in a net. “You were here as a girl?” Elke asked, genuine surprise coating her question. For some reason, the thought of Nevina making a repeat journey to a place where she’d already visited seemed foreign; Nevina was a wanderer, and wanderers didn’t return to old haunts.
Or did they?
Elke didn’t know much about witches, and she didn’t know much about wanderers, either.
“What for?”
She’d bitten back a gag at the mention of “tea” and was honestly surprised to find that it did seem to be a simple case of herbs soaked in hot water. Still, she could picture a goat’s dissected eyeball floating to the surface all too easily and silently dismissed the tea as soon as it was placed in front of her.
To see the witch manipulate objects so easily as Millie, admittedly, was impressive. The crone simply flicked her hand a few mites this way, a few spaces that, and then the table was clear, and the clutter that had once filled its surface was suspended in weightlessness. Levitation of small objects, of course, was not an uncommon feat. It was, in fact, one of the first spells students at the university had been taught, and many with magic-oriented parents had come in with a pre-existing knowledge of levitation spells. It wasn’t the spell itself that had captured Elke’s attention, but it was the fact that the house seemed positively alive with magic. Here was a floating cup, there was a candle that rekindled itself after a draft blew out its flame, movement in the shadows, little flutters at the periphery of her vision. One or two small acts did not account for much required input, but to maintain these little twitches all over the home must have cost at least something.
Elke wondered - was that the explanation for the hag’s appearance? Did witches trade their beauty for magic energy? If that was the case, Millie must be one powerful being, indeed. That tongue. Those teeth. Ugh!
But maybe that wasn’t it at all. Elke didn’t know much about witches, or if they were even really different from mages like herself.
The talk of Nevina being a child caught in her ears like trout in a net. “You were here as a girl?” Elke asked, genuine surprise coating her question. For some reason, the thought of Nevina making a repeat journey to a place where she’d already visited seemed foreign; Nevina was a wanderer, and wanderers didn’t return to old haunts.
Or did they?
Elke didn’t know much about witches, and she didn’t know much about wanderers, either.
“What for?”