Lord Ros led Gilt, Ithena, and Kangee around the circle of businesses until they reached a shop that had a sign nailed over another sign that read “Shabetsu Soup”. Up above the door, on a plank of wood, there was a crudely drawn picture of a green potion.
“Interesting name,” Lord Ros said as they stepped up to the sign. He looked at the sides of the building and near its base. It was made of wood and looked sturdy.
“I’ll be in momentarily,” Lord Ros told the others. “I want to have a look around the building and see if there is anything on the sides or behind it. A witch uses many hiding spots. Go in and talk to the owner, see what they know.”
“Aye, aye, ‘Lord,’” Gilt replied with a sardonic wave of his hand.
The three of them headed inside. The shelves were cleared, everything was dusted and free of debris, and behind the counter stood a middle aged woman with a large gray wolf laying down beside her. She had long, gray, wavy hair and wore a loose fitting brown and green robe. On her side, attached to her belt with a bronze buckle, was a satchel brimming with leafy herbs and golden flowery blooms.
“Ohh, hello there,” she said as they entered. “Is there something I could help the three of you with?”
“We were wondering if we could browse your wares,” Kangee replied as he looked around at the empty shelves, “but I see you have nothing to browse.”
“The shelves are empty, yes. But, I do have a few potions I’d be willing to sell to you. I just returned from gathering herbs a few hours ago, so I have yet to put them on display.” The woman reached under the counter and fumbled with a few bottles before laying them on a towel. “I have healing remedies, potions of cat-eye, and a tonic that will strengthen your predatory instincts.”
“Will this do for the remedy?” Kangee spilled out several gold coins from his coin purse. The woman took them graciously and handed him a small jar of a greenish liquid. It looked like smashed up weeds mixed with river water, and it tasted much the same. Despite its appearance, Kangee drank it down without complaint.
"Is it working?" Gilt asked.
Kangee put his hand on his chest and took a deep breath. "I believe so," he replied.
"What is it that ails you?" asked the potion maker. "You look to be free of fresh wounds."
"My ailment comes from within," Kangee replied. "We crossed paths with a spirit on the way into town, and the encounter drained me of all my stamina. Just now it feels as if I can truly catch my breath."
"A spirit?" the woman curiously asked. "I saw one while out collecting herbs yesterday."
"Was it a little girl?" Kangee asked. "With the look of a Blackfeather?"
"Yes, she was frightened when I saw her. I tried to help, but when I spoke with her, she told me to 'shhh.’” The woman brought her finger up to her lips. “Just as I went to take the child by the wrist and lead her back to town, another, more terrible and evil, spirit appeared. The girl screamed and disappeared, and I took off with Narla right beside me. By the time I reached town, both spirits were gone.”
"Where did this happen?” Kangee asked. "Was it south of town where the road passes by a run-down shack?"
"No," the woman replied with a shake of her head. "I was just outside of town. North of the graveyard. I spotted the girl near the edge of the wood.”
“So it’s the same as us then, just in a different spot,” Kangee said to Ithena and she nodded.
“Appears so,” she replied.
“You won’t believe this!” Lord Ros said as he entered the store. “I spoke to a villager and it seems there is no smith in town! Apparently the dwarves that run the shop took off to Yuru Kyld—something about buying beard oil. Well, whatever the reason, we're only going to have the weapons we have on hand. Hopefully we don’t need any repairs.”
“Ohh, I see there is one more of you,” said the woman. “Is there anything I can help you with?” She spoke directly to Lord Ros. “ My name is Saldis, and while I just opened shop, I have a few potions that you might find of interest.” She ran her hands across the tops of the bottles laid out on the counter.
“Potions?” Lord Ros replied as he examined them. “No, I don’t think I need any of these just yet. You make these yourself?” he asked.
“Yes, from the herbs and flowers of the surrounding wood,” Saldis replied. “There isn’t a plant in these woods I can’t identify.”
“Is that so?” Lord Ros paused to think for a second. “What can you tell me about Silver Lunalilies? From what I hear they are rare and extremely useful.”
“Rare and useful indeed,” Saldis replied. “They only bloom during a silver moon, and if you happen to get your hands on one, they can be sold for a high price.”
“It’s not something one would give away for free, is it?” Lord Ros asked.
“Not usually. Though, it is a tradition on Frostolf to give one as a congratulations to expecting mothers. When Shabetsu first bestowed his curse upon my people, no new children would come. For years, my ancestors believed it was the end of us. But then a hunter found a silver lunalily, and when he returned home, he learned his wife was pregnant with his child. The story soon spread, and it became tradition to present an expecting mother with a silver lunalily.”
“Then Juniper must be pregnant,” Lord Ros said somewhat quietly to himself, but Saldis still heard him.
“She came in here with the flower yesterday and asked me about it,” Saldis replied. “She mentioned the bard that was in town gave it to her, and I told her the same as you.”
“And this bard, is he still here?” Lord Ros asked, and Saldis shook her head.
“No, no. He and his hound disappeared into the woods yesterday, and as far as I know, he never came back,” Saldis answered.
“I see,” Lord Ros replied. Turning his head towards the others, he asked, “I take it you asked her about the spirit?”
“We have,” Kangee answered. “She’s seen it as well, though it was found to the north, not to the south by those shacks.”
“Strange…” Lord Ros furrowed his brows and thought deeply for a moment. Two locations with the same spirits. Spirits usually can’t journey far from their remains or whatever item they are attached to. What could this mean? “Was there anything left behind by the prior owner?”
“Yes,” Saldis replied. “The shop was full of wooden bows and clubs, some made from trees deep in the heart of the forest.”
“Really?” Lord Ros was pleased to hear it. “Could we have them? They might help us in our investigation.”
“I’m afraid Elder Cashtar had them all destroyed,” Saldis replied. “He said that they were probably cursed and ordered the militia to gather them up in the center of town and burn them. By the time I took over the shop, it had been completely cleaned out.”
“Figures,” Ithena sneered. “Wants us to kill a witch, but destroys all the clues.”
“That is unfortunate,” Lord Ros added. “Well I thank you for your time,” he told the potion maker with a smile. “But we must be on our way.”
He looked over the vials on the table. They all varied in color and size, but one caught his eye more than the others. It was a small vial that contained a blueish-gray liquid. “What is this one?” he pointed it out to Saldis.
“This one is called Tears of Venya,” she replied. “A special blend to help against spirits. Only ten gold is all I am asking for.”
“Very few know how to blend Tears of Venya correctly,” Kangee said to Lord Ros. “We should take it while the opportunity presents itself.”
“What exactly does it do?” Ithena asked.
“Allows the user to interact with spirits as if they were no different than you or I,” Saldis explained. “I was taught it when I was a little girl by a medicine woman in the Blackfeather tribe. Shamans use it when they commune with the dead.”
“It can safeguard from possession,” Kangee added.
“Unfortunately, my wallet was stolen by some children or else I would,” Lord Ros replied.
“I’ll pay for it,” Ithena stepped forward. “If we run into that spirit again it might be useful.” She slid ten gold on the counter and snatched the vial from Saldis before placing it in a leather pouch that hung from her belt.
“Let's head to the inn, hopefully we can find some rooms,” Lord Ros told them before turning back to Saldis, “Thank you, excuse us.” She politely nodded and the four of them left.
The sun was setting behind the trees as they stepped outside. Long shadows crept along the ground and the ambient sounds of the town were starting to grow quiet. Wood cutters had hung up their axes, tanners finished preparing their hides to dry, and the children were all ushered inside their homes for an evening meal. The Sunlit Flame church bell rang to signal the falling of the sun and the time for rest. With purpose-filled steps, Lord Ros strode towards the inn with the others trailing behind.
"It looks like that bard might have bedded the Elder's daughter," Gilt said.
"Perhaps he just recognized she was pregnant," Ithena replied. "Either way It probably has nothing to do with the Witch."
Gilt tapped his coin purse. "But that flower sure would be nice to have.”
"Enough about the flower," Lord Ros replied. "We have more pressing matters. There could be a witch here, and there's a spirit that wanders. Where exactly did the potion seller say she saw it?"
"The graveyard," Kangee answered.
"How is this possible?" Lord Ros shook his head and crossed his arms to ponder. "At the graveyard and outside of town…a girl and an angry old man. Spirits typically are found near their remains, or on some occasions, a particular place they held dear in life. Never are they found in more than one place. Not naturally at least.”
"Think the Witch is involved?" Gilt asked Kangee and Ithena.
"Could be," Ithena replied.
"Witch or not, the spirits are here and need to be dealt with," Ros said.
"And soon," Kangee added. "I was lucky to escape with my life. The commoners in town won't be so fortunate."
While the three of them talked and Lord Ros pondered aloud, Gilt and Ithena felt a sudden shift of weight on their belts. They snapped around and tried to grab whatever was there, but they were too slow.
"What the?" Gilt yelled. Behind them, running away towards the woods, were several laughing children. They were the same orphans from before. “You're not getting away that easy!” Gilt yelled as he charged after them, Ithena and his wolf Arren right behind him.
“We should follow them, they might take things too far,” Lord Ros told Kangee, “Besides, I’d like to get my coin purse back.”
“Go ahead, I’ll remain here,” Kangee replied. He waved his hand. “I have no quarrel with children. If you return and I am gone, you can find me at the inn.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Very well,” Lord Ros shakily replied before taking off after the others. Why does no one listen to me?
Lord Ros charged through the ever thickening brush. Fog slowly rolled in all around him, though up ahead, he could still see Gilt and Ithena. He sprinted as fast as he could, hoping to catch them before they caught the children. If I don’t stop them, they might seriously harm those children!
The thought of either of them hurting the children pushed Lord Ros to run faster, though it was no use. The two pulled away and disappeared into the shroud of thick mists.
Suddenly, Lord Ros found himself in a small glade that was surrounded by trees. He paused to catch his breath when a peculiar sight passed his gaze. It was a carriage moving upright on its own. No mount was at its front, but the carriage moved as if there were. As it came to a stop, a large shaggy gray furred hound that trailed behind sat beside it as if it were its guard.
Lord Ros was bewildered. What have I gotten myself into? He cautiously approached the carriage, firmly placing his hand on the hilt of his arming sword. Breath Ros… It’s just a dog… well hopefully. Before he could draw his blade, the carriage doors swung open and out stepped a tall half-elven man with long, straight, dark hair.
The man wore an extravagant unnaturally orange fur coat, a short-brimmed white hat, and on his shoulder was a small monkey. Both monkey and man had a monocle on their eye, the man was on his left, the monkey was on his right. When the man stepped off, he stopped and looked around before locking gazes with Lord Ros.
“Hello there!” the man said in an inviting tone. “You seem to be lost!”
“How is that carriage moving with no horse?” Lord Ros replied as he ran his fingers in front of it to see if something was there. “Magic of some sorts?”
“Ahhh, quite astute!” replied the man. He placed his hand on his chest and gave a small bow. “I am Salazar Fererro, and you are?”
Ros studied the man for a moment, unsure how to reply. “I am Lord Ronan Ros of The Order of the Witches Bane.”
“Ohh, a Witch Hunter! How interesting!” Salazar crept closer to Lord Ros as he spoke. “Tell me, Witch Hunter, do you have anything of value to trade? A man such as myself has many trinkets and bobbles that someone of your profession might find interesting.” Salazar held up his hand and a strange crystal orb appeared for just a moment, then with a flick of his wrist, the orb was gone.
“What is all this?” Lord Ros replied.
He looked around and noticed the trees there were far thicker and taller than the ones surrounding Waldenhauf. They were even a much lighter shade of brown. The sky was pink, and the fog thickened on the outline of the glade, creating an almost impenetrable wall of mist. Lord Ros lowered his hand from his sword and returned his gaze to Salazar. Fighting is not the answer here. I don’t think I am in any immediate danger.
“This place belongs to the owner of that carriage.” Salazar pointed to the carriage with an extravagant flourish.
“I see,” Lord Ros slowly replied. This must be some kind of Fae trickery. I need to be careful of what I say. I should have brought a lemon just in case. Lord Ros stepped forward cautiously. “Unfortunately, I have no money. So, I don’t know what I could possibly buy from you.”
“Ahhh, money is of little consequence, my friend,” Salazar said with a husky tone. He put his hand on Lord Ros’ shoulder. “There are plenty of things one could trade. If only they are willing.”
“I suppose I could trade my weapons and armor if there was something of interest,” Lord Ros reached for his sword only to find it gone. Panic struck him, and he searched the ground near his feet before he noticed his sword being held up by the tail of the monkey. “Hey! Give that back!”
“You really need to learn to hold onto your belongings, my dear friend.” Salazar chuckled and patted the monkey’s shoulder. “Bosco here has a penchant for taking things that will go unnoticed.” He gently took the weapon from the monkey and gave it back to Lord Ros. “Perhaps you could trade something more important than a blade or an ax.” He tapped his finger on Lord Ros’ chest.
“Like I said, I don’t have any gold and all of my gear I will need for the hunt. Don’t think I am uninterested in your wares, it’s just that I have nothing to give,” Lord Ros politely replied.
“Tch. tch. tch. There is one thing you could give me, the one thing only you could possess,” replied Salazar.
“I know the location of some children?” Lord Ros clearly misunderstood, and the extravagant man was losing his patience.
“Children, you say?” Salazar asked. “Well, I suppose I could always try and make a deal with them,” Salazar said to himself. “Where can I find these children?”
“They’re north of Waldenhauf, I think. My companions chased them off into the woods. I don’t know exactly where they are, but I know they aren't far from town.”
“Perhaps one of them would be willing to give me their name,” Salazar said with a flash of interest in his eyes.
“What would you do with their name?” asked Ros.
Salazar smiled. “Well, perhaps you could trade me and find out.”
Before the two could talk any further, the door to the carriage swung open and a voice called out, “It’s time. We must move.” Salazar and his monkey looked over at the carriage before turning back to Lord Ros.
“Shame,” he said disappointedly. “Come, come, let's go,” he motioned Lord Ros to follow him.
“Into the carriage?” Lord Ros’ heart was running wild. The idea of stepping into a magically pulled carriage in a strange fog filled land felt dangerous. I suppose if he was going to hurt me he would have already.
“Yes, there is room,” Salazar assured him. “There’s actually a man in there who wishes to speak to you.” All of this seemed unnatural and strange, but Lord Ros couldn’t help but get on.
Once inside, he found Salazar with two other individuals. One was a human man with dark hair in a ponytail and a short beard. He was dressed in a fine yellow coat with blue buttons and carried a lute at his side.
Beside the man was a strange being with the face and body of a cat, though he sat upright like a man and wore a loose fitting blue robe with a bright yellow trim and a matching pointed hat befitting a wizard. Two holes in the hat let his ears slip through, and his whiskers were so long they pushed out past the brim. The cat smiled at Lord Ros, his tail playfully waving back and forth. His piercing green eyes carried a playful curiosity and focused intently on Lord Ros.
“Greetings, Witch Hunter,” the man with the lute said as he entered. “I assure you we mean you no harm,” he quickly added.
“No, if you had, I would already be dead.” Lord Ros sat down beside Salazar and was now facing the man with the lute and the cat-like figure.
“I take it you are looking for the Witch of Doubt?” the man asked, and Lord Ros nodded.
“Yes, I am here to confirm that she is still here and take her out if given the chance,” Lord Ros answered.
“I am afraid she has retreated from this place for now,” the man replied. “Though there is something far more sinister at play than her shadows.” His gaze fell to the floor for a moment before returning to Lord Ros.
“Do you speak of the spirit we encountered outside of town? Is it connected?” Lord Ros asked.
“The people of Waldenhauf are all swept up in the currents of Prejudice, and I am afraid if they continue on this path, come the month of Prejudice, the town will be destroyed. Those spirits were brought forth by powerful magic. A Witch of Chaos is to blame for this, not the Witch of Doubt you seek.” The man looked out the window of the carriage for a moment to collect his thoughts.
“The Witch of Doubt is neither enemy nor friend. Rumor has it she has lived for centuries, if not longer. She is cruel, but this is beyond her power. Though she hid herself in Benwall’s Doubts and stirred up Doubt in town from time to time, her presence kept things far more evil than herself at bay.”
“Who are you and how do you know all of this?” Lord Ros asked, and the man smiled.
“Just a wandering bard. I am only in town because a dear friend and mentor of mine could not be. My guild is after Daughters of Chaos, and I am the one tasked with tracking them down.”
“And what of your companion here?” Lord Ros shifted his gaze to the cat-like figure beside the man who had stared at him the entire time.
“Ohh, him? This is Mugsy,” the bard replied. “All of what you see in this place is his doing. This is his carriage, and this plane of existence is one created by him. It mimics the Fae lands of Neamos, though only in appearance.”
“How did I end up in this place?” Lord Ros asked.
“I asked Mugsy to bring one of you here. Just so happened to be you,” the bard answered.
“And what is it you desire with me?” Lord Ros asked.
“Nothing, nothing at all. I simply mean to aid you in your search. A dear friend of mine, Witch Hunter Benard, was working with me to combat the Daughters of Chaos. Now that he is gone, I try to give any of your kin the same help I would have given him.”
“Benard was a legend,” Ros replied. “When I first arrived at Witchbane Keep he was a few years my senior and far more skilled than his peers.”
“He was an excellent hunter,” the bard replied. “Though his unwavering pursuits led to his downfall.”
“So I’ve heard.” Lord Ros shook his head as he thought about Witch Hunter Benard. He never felt that his promotion had caused any tension between the two of them, and despite everyone thinking Lord Ros wasn’t cut out for it, Benard stood up for him and was a constant source of reassurement.
“Well, if you are here to help, I have a question. Why did you give the elder’s daughter that silver lunalily?”
“As a token of good luck for their good news,” the bard replied. “I had found one on my travels, and when I saw the budding love between them, I knew I had found its recipient.”
“So the elder’s daughter carries a child,” Lord Ros said softly. “And what of this Mugsy? What does he want?”
“Glad you asked,” the bard replied. “He offers up lucky individuals such as yourself a chance.” Mugsy opened his paw to reveal a purple six sided die. “Take the die and make a wish. If it rolls a six, Mugsy will grant the wish as he interprets it. However, if you roll a one, you die.”
Lord Ros examined the die in the cat's paw for a moment before carefully taking it in his hand.
Ros gulped as he cradled the chance of death in his hands. “As he interprets it?”
“Yes, and the strength of the wish will be determined by how many dice you throw.” Mugsy opened his paw to reveal several other different colored six sided dice. “If any of the dice roll a six, your wish will be granted, but the same rule applies with a one. Mugsy’s game is one of chance. He uses your spirit as a power source to draw out Chaos, then manipulates it to make your wish. The more dice you throw, the stronger the Chaos used will be, and thus the stronger the wish will become.”
What would I wish for? Ronan Ros closed his eyes and let his mind wander freely. As the darkness in his head formed an image, it was in the shape of Benard. Ahhh. I see. His eyes felt heavy with sorrow. If he were here things certainly would be easier. He could have come with me, and we could have worked the hunt as we had before. One in six, huh? Say, Benard, do you think I have that kind of luck?
Lord Ros held up the die and examined each of its sides. “Tempting, but”—he put the die back in Mugsy’s hand—“if you say the Witch of Doubt is out of Waldenhauf, then I think it’s best I take my leave.” Mugsy flipped his paw around and the dice were gone. He then looked over to the man with the lute and purred.
“Very well, that is your choice to make,” replied the bard. “And I believe this is where you get off.” Salazar opened the door to the carriage, and Lord Ros stepped out.
“Where am I?” he asked the group.
“Where we found you. Head south and you will find town,” replied Salazar. He tipped his hat, and his monkey winked.
“Before you go.” Lord Ros stopped Salazar from closing the door. He looked over at the man with the lute. “If she isn’t in Waldenhauf, where has she gone?”
“Hard to say,” replied the bard . “Likely she is in hiding. I don’t know what she was doing here, or if she will return. Only that for now, she seems to have left.”
“I see. Well, thank you.” Lord Ros closed the door. The carriage pressed out into the fog until it, and the large hound disappeared completely.
He watched as they pulled away, marveling at how the fog dissipated right after he lost them in the haze. Looking around, he saw the lights of town just to his south.
The sun had almost entirely set, and darkness was creeping all around. A faint smell of smoke hung in the air to the north, but he disregarded it as some kind of Fae trickery and headed to town as he wrote down a few notes.
If the Witch of Doubt has left town, then I suppose our job here is done. Still, if what that bard said was true, then the spirit in town is likely to get stronger in a few months. I didn’t come prepared for a ghost. Perhaps I should have prepared better? I had thought we would more likely find werewolves. I suppose I have no choice in the matter, I have to address this before we leave.
He found Kangee, Gilt, and Ithena back where they had first taken off after the children.
“There he is,” Gilt said to the others as Lord Ros walked up. “We were beginning to worry our ‘Lord’ might have gotten himself killed.”
“You can rest easy,” Lord Ros told him. “I see you got your weapons back. “ He looked over the two of them. “Any luck on my coin purse?”
“The children didn’t have it,” Ithena told him. “Not that we found, anyways.”
“And what happened to them?” Kangee asked. “I saw smoke to the north.”
“We took care of them,” Ithena plainly replied. “They shouldn’t be an issue anymore. It’s getting late, so we should secure rooms for the night.” She walked past the three of them and towards the tavern.
“Gilt.” Lord Ros held his arm. “What happened?” Gilt threw his arm up to break free of Lord Ros’ grasp.
“Don’t worry about it. We just scared them and burned down their little tree fort. Good thing we did, too. Little bastards had a really dangerous weapon.” Gilt replied.
“What is it?” Lord Ros asked.
“Some Zenidition blade. Ithena grabbed it. Supposedly blows up with Arcane. Those kids could have really hurt themselves.” Gilt was clearly faking his sympathy. He followed after Ithena, leaving Kangee and Lord Ros behind.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Lord Ros shook his head and followed after them, Kangee trailing behind.