[IC] Witch Trials (Title up for change)

[Gisk]

May 14th 2016. Half moon, waxing.

The old manor in the woods was made out of various materials. The first construction, before it could be called anything more than a cabin, was wood, many times repaired, and with stone additions almost as old as the original structure. Some of the more recent pieces are more modern in construction, though none of the building itself is younger than sixty years old. Oddly enough, the electric infrastructure is up to date, and powered by a turbine in the nearby river, as well as a wind mill that stretches above the ancient trees. This used to be the deepest part of the woods, but now a mere fifteen mile trek through the trees will bring you to the main road, and from there not much further to the closest town. Still, the manor is mostly unmolested by those outside, which suits the inhabitants just fine.

Inside, in one of the main rooms, Bethany Hooke was holding court with her coven. She sat in a comfortable rocking chair with overstuffed cushions and a soft fur draped over top, and as she rocked, the others argued.

The two biggest speakers were a grandson and grand daughter of hers. The Gift ran strong in both, which gave them a high standing in the Hooke family coven.

Jonathan was soft spoken to the last, though today his agitation was showing in its own way. He stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched in a tense and defensive stature as his cousin gave a passionate tirade.

Ruth Hooke was louder. She had the same look as her grandmother, her hair as fiery as her arguments.

"We're a strong coven, our gift runs old. If we stand and fight against this... oppression, others will flock to us. Why are we accepting others into our coven if not to marshal our forces?" Where Jonathan was standing with his body tight and withdrawn, Ruth moved about as she spoke, her arms wide and gesturing.

"It was to protect them," Bethany answered from her seat. Her voice was clear and strong, though she wasn't at the height of her strength for this lunar cycle, she was strong enough to retain most of her youth, and her form was physically firm and healthy. Her human features were augmented with the eyes of an owl, as well as the wings, though they were folded behind her in the chair.

"We offer community," Jonathan added quietly, "Not vengeance. Witches come here seeking peace, I don't think it's right to draw them into war."

"Precisely. This is the last I'll hear of this. If you want to go fight, don't expect to come and hide here when they're hunting you down. I've heard enough for today, I'm going into town. Ruth, if you would..?" Despite being shut down, Ruth obeyed and stepped forward to offer her arm. Bethany took a small knife from her pocket and cut a thin slice into the flesh of her forearm. She took a drink of the blood, and her body shuddered for a moment before her wings retracted into her.

With her form returned to a passing human one, she left and made her way to town.

[BlackPanther]

The library seems relatively simple on the outside. The wooden sign hanging almost proudly from the chains supporting it. There is one large window on the outside that seems to be stained glass. The colors showing simply of the moon with clouds and a few stars. Though upon closer inspection a child's silhouette in the moon can be seen reading a book. As one approaches the door it is clear that is is of a deep maroon color with a half moon shaped window.

As one entered it would be clear that the outside, while simply elegant, is an understatement to the inside. Rows upon rows of books creates a delightful maze with occasional seating areas. When one reaches the walls huge wall shelves stand proudly with ladders to get to the books. This proud structure is light with the best lighting for a calm reading experience that would allow the guest to get absorbed into the place for hours on end (not literally of course). If a guest were of a more magical nature they would be lead to a secret library that, while smaller, is equally proud and almost hummed of its magical nature.

In the front stood a driftwood desk with a cushion on top. The cushion held one black cat with large round green eyes, while behind the desk leaning in the chair was the one who owned this place. Malcolm sterling held a book while his tea seemed to be stirred with a spoon by itself. A cart can be heard moving amongst the rows while books flew to their places. The man's eyes seemed to have an unnatural glow to them as he reads. He seemed to feel comfortable with using his ability currently, for if anyone were to come through the door the large silver shop bell would ring...allowing him to stop and act more human.

[BayRat]

In the densest of the woods, by a running small waterfall and rocky creek, a wooden door, overgrown in vines and other foliage from age, laid over the earth. So much was it burdened with plant-life and natural debris not even an eagle could see the door right away. Beneath the old door were a set of cobblestone stairs, dimly lit by ever burning torches, leading into an underground square of a room, walled in with stone. The room was about 30 by 30 feet in the shape of a perfect square, undergrowth such as large roots and vines grew around the ceiling and corners where patches of dirt were still available among cobblestone bricks. A wooden table with a few chairs sat in the center of the room. A fire place, with embers of once a roaring inferno still remnant over ash and charred wood stood in the center of the left wall, while a small collection of books on a small wooden shelf was parallel to the fire place. The room had a golden chandelier with unlit candles at the cieling, and a few more torches were low on the walls around the room, providing some, but little lighting. In the far right corner was a wooden door that lead to a pit filled with burnt remains of humans and witches alike, their skeletons charred and brittle. next to that door was a small hallway harboring cells of crudely smelted iron bars on both sides, though the cells were empty with cobwebs and loose chains.
A third wooden door next to that revealed a bedroom, with a master bed, a rug, a nightstand, and a few other items of interest lingering about, including what seems to be a poorly made wooden staff leaning in the corner. In the bed, rose a tall figure with unkept brown hair and a face that shows he hasn't shaved in a while.

Yawning as I got out of bed, I would roll onto the rug before standing upright. I'd dust off my robes as I exited my room, looking briefly at the lobby room before pressing my hand on a section of a nearby wall, which revealed a false brick that when pressed, opened a hidden door of stone, revealing another massive room. Though this room was filled with treasures and valuables of all kinds and ages. Ancient golden coins, well preserved jewels, artifacts from long dead civilizations, antiquated weaponry, and even royal clothing from ages long past. Precious metals filled the floor of the hidden room like a ball bit in a playground. I would leap into the mass of treasure, as if it were a pool, lumbering over and under my hoard. A large smile was across my face as I rolled about over my collection.