Witch Hunter (solo)

Goblins, more goblins, and even more goblins ran rampant through out the mines outside of the village, and there were plenty of rangers, swordsmen, mercenaries, and want to be sorcerers all clambering on top of one another to kill them. Yeah I was good not delving into mines to slay the next up, and coming goblin leader. The idea actually crossed my mind to stride into the mines, cruse the nearest goblin chiefs head with my bare hands, and start taking over the goblins, one tribe at a time before running rough shod across the village. Then I remembered all the want to be heroes clambering to win the "good fight" They would first annoy me, then overwhelm me.

Instead, I went to the tavern, lots of those around here a haven for all the hometown heroes. If anything more interesting came up some poor schlub would show up asking for help. Yes, I was sitting at a table, in a tavern waiting on a job to show up. It was quite like my activity was straight out one of the campy tales bards tale for our entertainment. I ordered a drink, I started out light straight vodka, but by the time midnight rolled around I was down to liquids that absorbed into your skin, and gave you hallucinations. Due to the...gift to be able to rapidly heal getting drunk was an interesting, if the night lingered I would start working my way down the alchemical products list.

Suddenly! The bar tender started to close up shop, as patrons left chairs, and stools were put on the nearest table, or portion of bar. Bottles, mugs, tankards, horns, and all other means of beverage containment were gathered, and taken into the back. I took the hint, and paid my tab, and proceeded to exit the tavern. I was stone sober, I smelled like booze, but was cogent.

The night was beautiful, clear, cool, the moon was new making the world nearly pitch black with the torch light causing an orange umbra throughout the streets. It was quiet with only the things of the night scurrying about. Owls, rats, and so on.

It came to me faint, the cold clear ring of a bell. It was a deep bell, not shrill but it rang clear. The ringing would stop, and I would hear the impact of a hammer on the bell, followed once again by the ringing. It rang soft, and clear and went beyond my hearing, there was a compulsion to it, not very strong but it was there. If I was drunk I would be lead toward the ringing. That was interesting.

It was by my will alone that I set my mind in motion. I sat my self down, and waited for other patrons to exit the bar, and hear the ringing.

In time an middle aged gentleman departed and in no time he was enthralled by the ringing. It was not a direct thing, he still began staggering further into town, but every time the bell range, the gentleman would be thrown off course for one reason or another, and with every ring the draw become more powerful. With in a few rings the gentleman was willfully staggering into the woods outside of town opposite the mine.

I followed him at a distance staggering my self mostly for effect, if anyone was watching I was just another drunk following the chiming of the bells. There were several other drunks converging towards the chiming bells, I was getting close. As we staggered about the ringing grew louder, and just as naturally the draw for them grew stronger.

We all neared a pile of ruins, not an old castle or temple, at least no temple that I had ever been in. The energy didn't feel right for a temple either. If I had to hazard a guess it was a former villa or similar from a bygone era. From the distance I was at I could see that the ruins had a stone floor locally quarried rock. On one end was a the remains of a fire place, and chimney, on the other was likely a shrine to some god or another I wasn't sure which one at this time. There were three robed figures standing around a fire by the figure they cut they appeared to be female.

Three were ringing a bell one after another with the other two running the hammer around the outer edge of the bowl shaped bell.

The compulsion from the bells was nearly irresistible now, so I retreated. The farther I got from the ringing, the less the compulsion to go toward it was. I remembered where the ruins where, and would investigate the next morning when things of that nature were the weakest.

I slept in, sleeping in is an awesome experience, a rare luxury which I rarely get to experience, and after a late light breakfast I headed out an hour before noon. Noon the height of the day letting the sun burn away at any of the dark energies that might decide to attack me. The villa was bigger than it looked the night before.

There was a wall surrounding the entire property, or more accurately there was a wall now it was in ruin, crumbling stones which showed an outline of a wall. about fifty feet beyond the wall was a courtyard made of flag stones. In the courtyard was a large fire pit with broken down rotisserie stands, it made for an excellent venue for a party. Between the courtyard, and the house proper there was a wide green belt which served as the villas house garden, which went from a garden, to weeds, to grass, and finally small saplings whose roots would one day turn the flag stone floors into rubble.

The house itself would have been something to behold back in its prime. There was a central common room where the ceremony, or ritual was being performed; a kitchen, and larder, and four smaller adjoining rooms. It was site to behold, or would have been if it were not completely in ruin. I concentrated on the common room for my current investigation.

I first concentrated on the physical aspects; I performed a slow circle around the common room simply observing. There were dozens of tracks of all the drunks staggering their way toward the fire, and the ringing of the bells. There was ash, and detritus which indicated said fire in the middle of the common room. There was a white salty stain on the floors where the three female forms stood. That indicated the use of water. But the question was the water intentionally spilled, or was it spilled as the ladies rang the bells.?

I started walking another lap around the common room, as I did, I opened my self up and started letting my self sense the more ethereal world, there was an energy that ran through the entire omniverse tap energy some called it it was where all magic stemmed, it didn't matter if you were a healer, or a ritualist, or just someone who uses magic to bake cookies, it all came from the same place, it might be "flavored" differently depending on which realm it originated from but at the end of the day it was all from the tap. My personal flavor was eldritch, I have learned some time ago that came from way out at the edge of the omniverse where time, space, and thought manifested in unimaginable ways...it was an acquired taste.

Now what I was searching was a gathering of this energy, a place of power, rituals like the one I witnessed would need one to be be successful, even with the strange power coursing through me for anything bigger than a quick spell would take a place of power, a node, or other some such place of power. This ancient house didn't have enough power to show up past the regular energy that one can feel through out the world. Not even at the houses alter!

While I didn't find any nexus of power, I did find an echo where the three were practicing their craft. I approached the where the ladies were performing their ritual, and sat in a kneeling position. I closed my eyes, and started breathing taking a lung full of air at a time, and fully exhaling. As I did I felt multiple layers of consciousness pass through my mind.

This wasn't magic, in fact anyone could do this. Close your eyes, almost instantly your mind enters a different state from actively working to everything going on the back burner. Just try it for five minutes! Breath deep, and push your thoughts from your mind (it takes practice) eventually you will feel like your falling, let your self fall that's you falling deeper into your own consciousnesses it's here where you'll see visions, most of the time their your brain working on problems in the abstract...

But for someone like me, someone who can tap into the energies of the omniverse we can when we concentrate one the foot print, or echo made by other practitioners, then the visions we get are the last few moments of the echo. I felt myself falling, deeper, and deeper into my own self I started getting glimpses. The three women wore loose fitting clothing; one had brown hair, the other two had black hair one glossy, the other dull. There was a faint smell of fire, not the warm smell of a hearth fire, but the burnished smell of a smiths forge.

Details were starting to come to the surface the blank faces were starting to fill in faint details when someone crashed into me!

"I got you! I got you you bloody warlock!!!" The man screamed in anger with a salverite accent as he rained blows on my head. I covered up, and recovered my senses. I reached out with my mind, and found his throat, and gripped it.

Who ever was attacking me began to gag, and clutched his windpipe, for good measure I balled up my fist, and made a wild swing into the mans temple. I have to admire the man he maintained his composure as he began to black out. Still holding his throat trying to breath as I squeezed the life out of him, he reached for a dagger, and thrust it into my torso, I felt the knife scrape against ribs, and tear pasha before it slowed down ,and stopped. The pain was enough to break my concentration, and let him go.

He took a deep gasping breath, and staggered away, THEN HE LEAPED AT ME! Like some sort of wild cage fighter, he dove for me, he didn't even let me start working the dagger from my side, he just attacked.

I liked this guy, I mean I sill had to fight him off, but doggone it I had to admire this guys willingness to attack, and keep me on the defensive. He was smart when it came to fighting magic users.

But I put him in a lock when I caught him, there was just the slightest hint of "oh shit" when I did, and I was able to concentrate. I reached out with my thoughts, and grabbed a pile of stone, and earth, and fastballed the whole mess into the guys side.

He ragdolles, and I was able to finally get the dagger pulled from my side.

"Who the hell are you?! " I shouted in bewilderment.

"I'm Akardi! And you're the witch that took my wife!" He charged at me again I rolled my eyes. I liked his tenacity but he was a moron when it came to details. I side stepped, and cloths-lined the guy knocking him down.

As he groaned I yelled "You blithering moron! Is your wife with me now?"

He looked around a bit, and shook his head "No."

"Do I look like a witch? IF so where's my coven?!"I asked.

He shook his head in reply "No, and you don't seem to have one."

"So likely I'm not the with you're looking for?"

He shook his head "Correct."

I shook my head "Good" and offered him my hand. He took it, and I lifted him to his feet.

Once he was was on his feet he asked "what were you doing here?"

"I was investigating, I found a psychic echo I was just starting to get details from it when you attacked." I said somewhat frustrated. "The echo is gone now, so we'll have to find a new lead."

He raised his eye "What do you mean we?"

I gritted my teeth "You screwed up my investigation, now you're going to help me figure out what is going on in these ruins."

We were at the tavern that evening. I had a huge glass of butter milk in-front of me, while Akardi was drinking beer. We would be there a while, and I decided to pace my self. I sat there pulling from the milk, and enjoying a large piece of cake. It was not the best cake, but it was cake, and chocolaty, and went well with milk.

The hours went by, I took a drink, and ate, Akardi drank, and ate. Time went on, and on until the first regular patron got up, and headed out the main door. It was time we followed the drunkards. Again clean, and clear through the night came the ringing, and just as planned my now business partner Akardi was caught by the ringing of the bells.

I was aware of what was coming, and spent a long part of the evening preparing myself against it. I let Akardi get enthralled, and followed at a safe distance. Again I felt the pull of the chimes but this time I started reciting passage, after passage of Codex Travelian the Outsider, pretty much ~THE~ primer for the outer realms, those alien eldritch places that drive most mad with revelation it kept my mind busy when the chiming happened, and helped me resist the pull.

Finally, we once again arrived at the villa. The three women were once again there, and many dunks were converging on the trio, all in thralled. As one, by one they came up, and emptied their pockets, and purses, they dropped swords, and daggers, and all other minutia of sort of valuable things.

I had to roll my eyes it was one of the oldest scams in the freaking world! The witches were giving a hypnotic suggestion to the drunks to gather ill gotten goods. . The drunks being drunk make poor witnessed, and any loss of money would be attributed to buying the bar a drink or three.

I watched as Akardi began approaching the trio one of them exclaimed "OH Shit!" and forgot to chime in time breaking the spell.

A few things happened all at once, all of them interesting at one level or another. The least of which was Akardi, and his apparent wife instantly began bickering. Lots, and lots of curse words, and epitaphs were thrown about, the drunks that were enthralled by the trio were at first bewildered, and astonished as to what was going on, and feeling incredibly confused, and possible threatened, and finally the lead witch rubbed her finger on the edge of the bowl, and a sour note pierced the air.

It wasn't just in the ears it was in every ones heads, even mine. The lead witch started cackling, as everyone hit their knees in pain. In a weird little boon the drunks were less effected than Akardi. "Kill the husband!" Shouted the lead witch.

The more drunk of the group of drunks didn't seem to think that was a good idea, and began to stagger towards the witches threateningly all be it dully. There was a hint of panic in the motions of the witches, and one of the drunks were able to grab a hold of the lead witches hood, and cloak, and when she recoiled what ever spell she was casting with her bowl was once again broken, and her hood was tore off revealing a creature that was not human, or at least not human any more.

Her skin was purple and her hair turned out to be more like crow feathers, but not fine smooth feathers, but the kind that have fallen off, and rained on, the individual bits of feather fraying. Her eyes were incredibly opaque blue, with square irises. But it was her hands. and arms that intrigued me the most. One hand was covered in scales, ending in talons, the other was covered in rubbery flesh something more similar to that of a worm, or fatty insect. This woman clearly made too many deals, with too many entities of power, dragons, eldritch beings, greater elemental's, it actually made me wonder at this witches sanity. I understood though at her base motivation you can't continually gain power without supplies, and that took gold.

As soon as the sour note stopped the drunks all charged, there was a scream as the third witch was dog-piled by the drunks. The wife, and Akardi were locked in either an embrace, or Akardi was keeping his wife at bay. That left just the mutated lead witch but was it worth it? For the moment there was no reason for me to fight. No one saw me, there was nothing of any value that I wanted, not even the bowls were worth much to me, as they most likely were foci rather than a source of power. The only reason to stay was for my own entertainment.

Na it wasn't worth it to stay. Or at least that was my thought on the matter, and I began to depart. A moment later during the furball there was a loud screech. I turned, and watched as energy coiled from the lead witches talon clad hand, and erupt from her fingertips. wrapping around, and through a few poor slobs. I recognized the flavor of the magic, it was one similar to my own, probably from one of the many, many pacts she had made in the past.

Now witches tend to have a book full of recipes for their rituals, spells and if they made potions, and the like those too. Sometimes it's called a grimoire, book of shadows, codex, or book of spells. I would likely find enough information to perform such a trick with my own eldritch might if I recovered it no matter what it was called.

I shrugged my shoulders, and drew my hand, and a half sword, and prepared my self to attack.

I am not a quiet man, but I was silent enough to close in on the furball, and chaos, more importantly the mutated witch. Soon as I was close enough I reached out with my mind, a calculated risk, and found her delicate throat, and I gripped it. She choked , and as I gripped it, I telekenetically lifted her off her feat six inches, a foot, two feet, six feet, and squeezed even tighter.

The wife had finally lost patience with Akardi, and had stabbed him in the throat. She was coming after me. As she did, I took a fencers stance with my hand, and a half sword taking the inner circle posture guarding my self making quick, and efficient parries, and repasts

The mutated witch, the lead witch was turning blue, her lips turning black as she made horrid croaking gagging sounds her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Eventually there was a cessation of her struggling. Now any normal warrior would likely release his hold on the mutated. Well I'm not that nice, and I wasn't about to take chances, and I squeezed even harder. I felt the cartilage of her throat crumple under my grasp.

I kept squeezing!

A light thrust cut the wife's inner thigh my fight with her was won, I still kept my fencers pose and guarded against her strikes. Each of her strikes were slower than the last, and eventually she collapsed, bled out, and pale, cold in a few hours.

Now for the lead witch, the mutant. I walked back to her still dangling in the air, her face, and neck all manner of different colors. I raised her a few extra feet into the air, then released my telekinetic grip. She crumpled to the ground, and I heard her legs snap like dry wood. Then the only way to make sure she was dead, was a quick vorpal snickersnak seperating her head from her body.

To the drunks, the people of Stonevale I was a hero I killed the evil witches, I let them think that, especially when they offered to buy me food, and drink. With the drunks not leaving their hard earned wealth to a pack of witches there was more to spend at the local taverns.

Iv rifled through the three witches belongings, found a nice sack of gold which I promptly spent getting permanent free room, and board at the local tavern. But more valuable was the witches book of shadows. It was a journal that started off rather lucid a lady wanting power against men, but soon as she made pact, after pact with beings of power her sanity started to slip, and she went from wanting equality to wanting to turn men into her thralls, and questing for more, and more power.

It was kind of sad, by the end her spelling became atrocious, and the syntax of her writing was all confused. There was not enough left of her mind to remember anything but hate. But somewhere in the middle I found what I was looking for.

The mutated witch had made a pact with an entity known as Azar the Empty one. Likely a name not that wouldn't hurt the creature. Pacts of such sort were rarely balanced. The creature gifted her with what amounted to a psychic living barbed wire. There was enough description as to how it was done for someone of sufficient power to perform. I pocketed it, and returned to the village to get blindingly drunk.

Name of Thread: Witch Hunter (Solo)

Rewards:

Dracon receives:
1050 EXP
150 Gold

All rewards have been added.

Congratulations! Dracon is now level 2.