Ella Rosethorn lived in an estate three blocks off the main street of Therasphue, lit by a collection of sculpted lampposts. The dusk-like haze still permeated the town, and Esther doubted they ever got direct sunlight. If they did, likely half the residents would burst into flames. The gated mansion had willow trees guarding the main entrance, their drooping limbs stretching to the ground like serpents hanging from the branches. Esther wouldn’t be surprised if snakes did guard against intruders and kept her hands on her weapons. Even with his negative opinions of her, Gromphy trusted the rogue to protect them if attacked and walked straight to the front door.
The knocker was in the face of a wolf and just a few inches out of reach for the short goblin. Esther came to his rescue and gave the door three good thumps. Maybe Ella was eating breakfast. There could be pancakes. Her heartbeat quickened.
A pallid-faced butler, emaciated and tall, answered the door. “Good morning,” he said in a long, drawn-out voice. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes,” Esther replied. “We do. Can we come in?”
The butler eyed her revealing attire disapprovingly, likely drawing accurate conclusions. “Indeed,” he replied, letting the single word hang in the thick air. “And whom might you be?”
“Esther Xerxes and Gromphy . . . uh . . . Gromphy the Master Crafter,” she replied.
Gromphy scowled at the unnecessary title. Goblins didn’t have last names.
“Allow me to check,” the man paused as his eyes entered his inventory. Esther resisted the urge to Surprise Attack him. He returned six seconds later. “I’m afraid I don’t see your names on the list; good day.” He closed the door.
“Wait!” Esther shouted, trying to shove her foot through the door and stop him. She couldn’t break the threshold, and the door slammed in her face. “Oooh!” she hissed. Esther reached up to the knocker and tried to break the door down.
The butler answered again. “Good morning. Do you have an . . .”
“This is my appointment,” Esther interrupted, pulling her rapiers and attacking the man. Her blades could also not cross the threshold, and she only cut up the air before his face.
“Indeed,” he responded calmly. “Good day.” The door closed again.
“Argh!” Esther cried. “How do we get in?”
“Perhaps thy wiles could be of service,” Gromphy said calmly. He hadn’t moved through either exchange.
“I don’t think so,” she replied, not picking up on the sarcasm. “Did you see how pale his skin was? I don’t think he has a pulse.” Esther caught her breath, sheathed her weapons, and reached up to the knocker to give it another beating.
“Perhaps a moment,” Gromphy requested, lifting his hand to stop her.
“What?” she asked. “Do you have a plan? Do you want to try and seduce him?”
Gromphy didn’t answer but reached into his gem pouch and removed two stones, a ruby and a diamond. His tiny fingers caressed the items, and mana flowed down his arms and into his hands. The ruby grew a long, black stem and blossomed into a rose with complex interlayered petals. He then massaged the diamond into the base just beneath the flower to resemble a crystal thorn. When he finished, he sighed and stumbled back, fighting for balance. He shook his head, drank a quick potion, and was soon stable again.
Esther was impressed. “Beautiful. How come you don’t make me anything pretty like that?”
Gromphy looked her up and down incredulously. His eyes lingered on her swords, armor, and shield bracelet, all things he had crafted for her. He thought about responding with a comment involving swine and pearls but didn’t. “The knocker again. Gently.”
Esther obeyed, and soon the butler was standing before them. “Good morning. Do you have an appointment?”
Gromphy cleared his throat so the tall man would look down at him. “Please offer this to thy mistress with our warmest compliments.” Gromphy lifted the rose by the bottom of the stem, giving the butler ample room to grip it below the thorn.
The man eyed Esther warily before reaching his hand out of the house’s protection. The woman understood, lifted her hands above her weapons, and stepped back. The butler took the rose, closed the door, and they waited.
“What does it do?” Esther asked, her arms crossed as she tapped her foot. “We don’t want to hurt her, do we?” Gromphy didn’t answer. The woman got the hint and waited a few more minutes in silence.
The door opened again, and the butler smiled at them. “Good morning. Ella Rosethorn will see you now.”
Neither Gromphy nor Esther was familiar with historical American architecture, so they didn’t appreciate the Southern colonial motif of the witch’s home. It was filled with plush furniture, exposed wooden beams, floral silk drapes, decorative stone fireplaces, and a pleasant baked apple scent that made Esther forget about pancakes. All it was missing was a solarium off the entrance, but it was an acceptable oversight without any sunlight outside.
The butler led the pair through the first few rooms of the house and into an enormous wood-clad study filled with books, chairs, a massive desk, and a cauldron. Two impressive male guards stood at attention toward the back of the room. Behind the desk at the front stood an intense woman that Esther wasn’t expecting. She had dark skin and wore a black gown with diamond earrings. Long black hair shrouded an oval face with emerald eyes. She reminded Esther of her former madam. In the presence of such refined beauty, any thought of trying to charm this woman fled her mind, and Esther was willing to let Gromphy do the talking.
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The goblin already had Ella’s attention as she held the ruby rose, rotating the stem in her fingers so the finely crafted petals shimmered in the lantern light. “It is remarkable,” she said once the pair entered the room and the butler left. “Where did you find . . .” her eyes finally left the magical item and settled on Gromphy. Esther watched as disgust crossed her face, quickly replaced with intrigue and then laughter. “You made this?”
The crafter nodded and produced a vial half-filled with sparkling gold liquid. “Its vase,” he said, hoisting it aloft. His eyes traced the distance between them as he and Esther only stood at the entrance to the large room.
Ella’s eyes followed the same path and ended at the edge of her large desk. She nodded. The nervous goblin glanced at the two bodyguards he would be putting at his back but scampered up to the desk anyway. He set the vase down and took several steps back. Ella leaned over and placed the rose inside the vial. Once the stem hit the gold liquid, it sucked up a minuscule amount and released a yellow firework above the flower. The petals were now trimmed in gold and sparkled with evident magic.
“Ahh,” Ella cooed and retrieved the rose from the vase. “And what does it do now?”
“Prick thyself and offer the bud to one who doth return thine affection unrequited,” he explained.
The witch raised her eyes in wonder. A reliable love potion was hard to come by. She kept her skin clear of the diamond thorn for now but saw the potential for the item. She placed it back in the vase.
She looked back at Gromphy and smiled. She then shifted her gaze toward Esther. “Come along, my dear,” she said, dismissing her guards with a wave. “Your goblin friend has gained you an audience. What is it you want?”
Esther watched the two men leave and then approached to stand next to Gromphy. The witch focused on the black-clad rogue, but Esther looked confused and out of place. Ella shifted her gaze to the goblin. “Or is it you, master crafter, who wishes an audience?”
“We both do,” Esther said, trying to salvage her dignity.
Ella laughed, not fooled. “Tell me. What do you need?”
Gromphy produced the dress and laid it on the desk. The witch started to reach for it, but her hand pulled back. “It is cursed,” she sensed. “The curse came from this town.” She recognized the magic. “And you want me to remove it? Surely this task is well within your abilities.” Her eyes went to the rose sitting on the corner of her desk.
“Tis not a simple curse,” Gromphy said. “To hades it is bound, bringing forth fire perpetually. Anyone who doth don it is utterly consumed.”
Ella frowned. If such a curse were possible, this dress didn’t have it. She could sense the magic and figured it would deal 50, maybe 100 fire damage to the wearer, no more. Even if she wasn’t familiar enough with magic to know what was possible, she could sense the goblin was lying.
Esther looked at Gromphy in confusion, wondering why he was telling this woman exactly what they wanted. And if he was implying that the dress already had that curse, how would she help them actually get it?
Ella’s eyes darted between the two, wondering what game they were playing. She had half a mind to dismiss them, but the power these two presented fascinated her. And she knew who Jace was. Most who came to see her did so as part of this module’s quest. Players gathered information from her and the warlock to overthrow the Madam. The two lieutenants pretended to be envious of their master’s position, but the information they gave the eager players was misleading and always led to their destruction. A few were clever enough to see through the subterfuge, but they were no more capable of beating the head of this town.
This encounter was different, and it intrigued her.
Gromphy broke the silence. “To reverse a hex of such intensity is beyond my ability. One must uncast the primary curse.”
Ella nodded. “Yes, you would need to recast the original spell in order to reverse it.” She paused as she discerned what the goblin actually wanted. “And reversing it would then protect against 100 damage a round instead of dealing it.”
Gromphy shrugged his shoulders as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him. The witch ate it up. “But no demon would willingly bond itself to such a boon spell; you would still need to disguise it as a curse.”
“But I hath not the knowledge to cast such a curse . . .” Gromphy said.
Ella nodded again, appreciating the challenge. “No one in this town can help you. You will need a dark crafter. Someone who binds souls to hell regularly. One who can compel an elemental demon.” She thought for a moment. “Ah, the gala. I won’t be attending, but you can.” Opening a desk drawer, the witch pulled two crystals. She began to toss them toward Gromphy but then better judged the more dexterous of the pair and flipped them toward Esther.
The rogue caught the gems and held one up to examine it. The stone was unremarkable and could have been made from glass, but an animated illusion played on a loop within the crystal. It looked like a shark fin in open water, but when the waves fell, the fin revealed itself to be the curved handle of a dagger. It was hypnotizing to watch the blade rise and fall in the water as if it were stabbing at something beneath the surface, but she pulled her eyes away eventually and stored both gems in her pouch.
“And these are . . .” she asked.
“Invitations to an exclusive party. All of this area's most potent dignitaries will be there. Imani throws the best galas. The food is amazing. I wish I could go, but I have other duties. It isn’t a gathering anyone can attend, but a vampire with a pulse and an intelligent goblin should blend in. There will be two dozen guests there capable of binding a demon in the way you want. In fact, there will probably be half a dozen actual hell spawn there, but you will want to go to the basement. From what I have heard, Imani has a death shaman working as his crafter. He doesn’t often freelance, but your unique request should pique his interest.”
“And he will tell us what we need?” Esther asked.
“I can help with some of that,” Ella said. “You will need a fire core to anchor the spell on this side of the abyss. It doesn’t need to be too powerful. There is a nest of fire drakes to the south that should be easy pickings for you two. And, of course, you will need a sacrifice, but Imani always keeps plenty of those on hand. The rest will be up to Carakon, the shaman.”
“And the party is this evening?” Esther asked.
The witch laughed and shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t be worth the effort then. Imani’s celebrations go on all day. I’m sure his great hall is filled to capacity as we speak.”
Gromphy bowed respectfully. “A thousand thanks, my lady. Thou art too kind. Thou shalt not see us again.”
“Oh, but I shall,” Ella insisted. “You will not leave my city while possessing such a powerful item without allowing me to see it. That is the price for the information I now give you.”
“Our master requireth that we . . .” the goblin started.
“I require this of you,” she said, mana brimming in her voice. “I will see this cursed dress before you leave.”
Gromphy didn’t fight it. He bowed lower. “As thou wishes.” The goblin took the dress from the desk, stored it in his inventory, and left the study with Esther in tow. The guards stood just outside the room and growled at the pair. Esther understood it wasn’t a good idea to cross this woman.
Once they were outside and the butler closed the door behind them, Gromphy turned to Esther. He wasn’t sure how to ask this question without insulting her intelligence but then decided he didn’t care. “Thou comprehended our conversation?”
“Yeah,” Esther said. “There’s a party, a death shaman, and some drakes we got to kill. I’m not stupid. I’m guessing I will be the one to kill the drakes. You can do the rest.” She didn’t wait to see if she had gotten it right and marched off toward the southern edge of Therasphue. Gromphy followed.