Through the Sands of the Hourglass.
Our World is old.
Once it had been beautiful, rich and filled with life.
Harmony and Balance reigning prosperously as peace was maintained.
But it grew complacent…
Through careful machinations and planning the Cruel One managed to strike down the Forces of Good.
And The Moirai cut the threads of peace, weaving a new Fate for our world.
A new reign would rule, a Dark One.
And with every hour that passes Light’s strength withers away….
-The Clockmaker
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“GIRL!” A snarl echoed through the house as the Hag clearly was looking for her.
What would the Hag want now?
She knew Hadestra rarely wanted her for anything good on her part. More than likely there was another job she needed to do. As if the housework wasn’t tormenting enough.
She quickly moved up the stairs to meet the Hag halfway, taking the broom with her.
If it had seemed she had been busy, the Hag would hopefully not torment her again like last time. She still felt the lashes she had given her then, simply for not responding quickly enough.
As she came up to the top of the stairs she immediately felt the large shadow of the Skrilhexe fall over her form.
Hags you must understand are normally larger than humans are, though they appear like old crones do not mistake their age for frailty or weakness.
Whilst normally preferring their magic to do the dirty work, they are quite capable of crushing your wrist or worse your windpipe.
They’re ugly too, which they consider to be a trademark of true beauty. Some Hags enjoy transforming themselves with magic into what ‘normal’ people would consider as beautiful maidens and use it as a tool to manipulate the poor souls before eating them.
Yes, Hags eat people. Children especially, are a delicacy. Men they use for different experiments, hard labour or for carnal lusts.
That's when they need new Hags to join their ranks, since Hags themselves cannot produce children, they make people...well you know. They after all just need their newborns to corrupt and turn them into Hags.
How you ask?
Beats me, all I know is when it happens it is a grand occasion.
The new additions ‘Haglings’ as we tend to call them is important enough to celebrate with a grand feast in honour of the Dark One. They sacrifice during special hours of the day, hold cruel games, dance and eat lots of people.
Still if you consider the alternatives Hags are one of the lesser evil, believe it or not.
As a slave you can be chosen by a variety of masters.
Trolls for one, don’t have slaves for long, they mostly just want food. When they do get an attachment to their food (meaning they allow you to live for a while and not be eaten immediately) the whole tribal thing comes into play. You are their plaything and from the stories I heard they will fight over what to do with you. It usually ends up with you dying and they’re not above not cooking you first.
There’s the Giants and to be fair they’re not bad either, just similar to the Hag situation. You’re a servant until your time is up basically, though in their case you’re mostly there for entertainment. You need to keep them from boredom and Giants know magic too, though they rarely wield it.
Then there’s the cults.
These people are straight up monsters. They’re evil people who ‘joined’ the side of the Cruel One. I’m talking evil Wizards, Necromancers and straight up Murderers. What I heard about them is they do the most unspeakable things to you and all in the name of their Deity.
My brother was taken by those people…
“There you are little Starling!” The malicious voice spoke with honeyed tone, tearing Faeline from her thoughts. It nearly caused her to topple off the stairs. 'Starling' was Hadestra's petname for her when she was in one of her better moods or when she was 'asking' you to do something. 'Girl' was when she ordered you, there was no pretense of politeness then.
“For Daltor’s sake you stupid girl! Stop your fooling around! Out of my way!” The Hag ordered pushing her aside to the wall and made her way downstairs.
Faeline shot a glare at the Hag’s back and it immediately earned her a reprimand.
“Do you need me to sow your eyes shut?” Was the threatening question as the Hag made her way into her cellar.
Faeline immediately dropped her gaze and held onto the broom as she continued her sweeping, casting a glance once in a while towards the Hag to see what the evil crone was up to.
The woman moved to her workbench and set down a bag she had been carrying. A heavy metallic thud sounded and this peeked Faeline’s worry even more.
Out of the bag came a heavy roll of leather and with a bit of snickering and cackling from the Hag she unrolled it before bring out the other items she had clearly purchased or gathered from her fellow Hags.
Within the Leather lay several sets of dark metal blades. They almost looked like glass or crystal, but Faeline was quite sure they were not so fragile. Sharp curved edges, not blade was truly straight, it seemed they were for special occasions. A couple of bundles of black candles came out as well as a couple of other tools Faeline had never seen.
“Girl!” The Hag snapped. “Put the kettle on and prepare the oven. I’ll be having guests for dinner!”
Faeline nodded and hurried down the stairs over to the coal box, before the Hag cried out in protest.
“No Girl, we won’t be using coals today. Take the Oak woodblocks and take a handful of Cinder leaves for the aroma.”
“I would, but…”
“What is it, speak you silly cow!”
“We only have regular wood since you used the last bit of the Oak for the Bloodmoon feast.”
The Dark eyes of the Hag scowled for a moment, before realizing that Faeline was right. She’d used it on the young elvengirl. Never before had a roast been so scrumptious.
Anger flared up again.
“Well go and make some more then, do you expect me to do everything?!” The Hag snarled. “Now hurry up and buy some from the Alderman! Unless you want to be on the menu yourself! Be grateful I find too much pleasure in draining the little ones myself or I would have you do it! Now get!”
With that Faeline threw herself out of the backdoor, knowing all too well when not to test the Hag’s limits. As she passed the wooden shed outside she could hear the whimpering of some poor child coming from within.
She shuddered.
Gods, how could they be so cruel? Why was this allowed to go on?
Getting the wood quickly she hurried back, trying to ignore the cries for help on her way from the unfortunates.
When she returned the Hag was no longer down in the cellar, the knives and candles were gone and it all seemed like a weird memory or unrealistic dream.
Still, it wasn’t. Faeline knew that all too well. She hurried herself to the oven and prepped it with the woodblocks and leaves and set up the tinder, she couldn’t help glancing behind her as she did her work. Too often had she had the dream of being pushed into the oven herself, that she’d become rather paranoia about it all. After all it was unusual for her to have lived this long already. Hags tended to sacrifice their servants, especially when they became bored or annoyed with them.
But the Hag was still nowhere in sight, lighting the oven quickly and closing the oven door she finally allowed her beating heart to calm down a bit and look around.
She listened to the sounds upstairs, but heard nothing. Maybe the Hag had gone to her bed for a lie down. It wasn’t uncommon for Hadestra. Especially when the old Crone had guests, she wanted to be and look her sharpest so she would impress the others.
This new found silence allowed Faeline’s curiousity to seep in. Earlier that week Hadestra had brought something home that was more unusual.
It was a machine, a metal container of sorts and it had been carefully locked and warded with strange runes. Hadestra had cackled with such glee and almost danced, talking in riddles about rare blood and the unlocking of old secrets. The old hag had stored it in the Ritual room, below the cellar and had given Faeline strange looks of contentment, glee? Faeline wasn’t sure. Still Faeline had been rather curious as to what was actually in it. It had to be something of significance to elicit such a response from the crone.
Our World is old.
Once it had been beautiful, rich and filled with life.
Harmony and Balance reigning prosperously as peace was maintained.
But it grew complacent…
Through careful machinations and planning the Cruel One managed to strike down the Forces of Good.
And The Moirai cut the threads of peace, weaving a new Fate for our world.
A new reign would rule, a Dark One.
And with every hour that passes Light’s strength withers away….
-The Clockmaker
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“GIRL!” A snarl echoed through the house as the Hag clearly was looking for her.
What would the Hag want now?
She knew Hadestra rarely wanted her for anything good on her part. More than likely there was another job she needed to do. As if the housework wasn’t tormenting enough.
She quickly moved up the stairs to meet the Hag halfway, taking the broom with her.
If it had seemed she had been busy, the Hag would hopefully not torment her again like last time. She still felt the lashes she had given her then, simply for not responding quickly enough.
As she came up to the top of the stairs she immediately felt the large shadow of the Skrilhexe fall over her form.
Hags you must understand are normally larger than humans are, though they appear like old crones do not mistake their age for frailty or weakness.
Whilst normally preferring their magic to do the dirty work, they are quite capable of crushing your wrist or worse your windpipe.
They’re ugly too, which they consider to be a trademark of true beauty. Some Hags enjoy transforming themselves with magic into what ‘normal’ people would consider as beautiful maidens and use it as a tool to manipulate the poor souls before eating them.
Yes, Hags eat people. Children especially, are a delicacy. Men they use for different experiments, hard labour or for carnal lusts.
That's when they need new Hags to join their ranks, since Hags themselves cannot produce children, they make people...well you know. They after all just need their newborns to corrupt and turn them into Hags.
How you ask?
Beats me, all I know is when it happens it is a grand occasion.
The new additions ‘Haglings’ as we tend to call them is important enough to celebrate with a grand feast in honour of the Dark One. They sacrifice during special hours of the day, hold cruel games, dance and eat lots of people.
Still if you consider the alternatives Hags are one of the lesser evil, believe it or not.
As a slave you can be chosen by a variety of masters.
Trolls for one, don’t have slaves for long, they mostly just want food. When they do get an attachment to their food (meaning they allow you to live for a while and not be eaten immediately) the whole tribal thing comes into play. You are their plaything and from the stories I heard they will fight over what to do with you. It usually ends up with you dying and they’re not above not cooking you first.
There’s the Giants and to be fair they’re not bad either, just similar to the Hag situation. You’re a servant until your time is up basically, though in their case you’re mostly there for entertainment. You need to keep them from boredom and Giants know magic too, though they rarely wield it.
Then there’s the cults.
These people are straight up monsters. They’re evil people who ‘joined’ the side of the Cruel One. I’m talking evil Wizards, Necromancers and straight up Murderers. What I heard about them is they do the most unspeakable things to you and all in the name of their Deity.
My brother was taken by those people…
“There you are little Starling!” The malicious voice spoke with honeyed tone, tearing Faeline from her thoughts. It nearly caused her to topple off the stairs. 'Starling' was Hadestra's petname for her when she was in one of her better moods or when she was 'asking' you to do something. 'Girl' was when she ordered you, there was no pretense of politeness then.
“For Daltor’s sake you stupid girl! Stop your fooling around! Out of my way!” The Hag ordered pushing her aside to the wall and made her way downstairs.
Faeline shot a glare at the Hag’s back and it immediately earned her a reprimand.
“Do you need me to sow your eyes shut?” Was the threatening question as the Hag made her way into her cellar.
Faeline immediately dropped her gaze and held onto the broom as she continued her sweeping, casting a glance once in a while towards the Hag to see what the evil crone was up to.
The woman moved to her workbench and set down a bag she had been carrying. A heavy metallic thud sounded and this peeked Faeline’s worry even more.
Out of the bag came a heavy roll of leather and with a bit of snickering and cackling from the Hag she unrolled it before bring out the other items she had clearly purchased or gathered from her fellow Hags.
Within the Leather lay several sets of dark metal blades. They almost looked like glass or crystal, but Faeline was quite sure they were not so fragile. Sharp curved edges, not blade was truly straight, it seemed they were for special occasions. A couple of bundles of black candles came out as well as a couple of other tools Faeline had never seen.
“Girl!” The Hag snapped. “Put the kettle on and prepare the oven. I’ll be having guests for dinner!”
Faeline nodded and hurried down the stairs over to the coal box, before the Hag cried out in protest.
“No Girl, we won’t be using coals today. Take the Oak woodblocks and take a handful of Cinder leaves for the aroma.”
“I would, but…”
“What is it, speak you silly cow!”
“We only have regular wood since you used the last bit of the Oak for the Bloodmoon feast.”
The Dark eyes of the Hag scowled for a moment, before realizing that Faeline was right. She’d used it on the young elvengirl. Never before had a roast been so scrumptious.
Anger flared up again.
“Well go and make some more then, do you expect me to do everything?!” The Hag snarled. “Now hurry up and buy some from the Alderman! Unless you want to be on the menu yourself! Be grateful I find too much pleasure in draining the little ones myself or I would have you do it! Now get!”
With that Faeline threw herself out of the backdoor, knowing all too well when not to test the Hag’s limits. As she passed the wooden shed outside she could hear the whimpering of some poor child coming from within.
She shuddered.
Gods, how could they be so cruel? Why was this allowed to go on?
Getting the wood quickly she hurried back, trying to ignore the cries for help on her way from the unfortunates.
When she returned the Hag was no longer down in the cellar, the knives and candles were gone and it all seemed like a weird memory or unrealistic dream.
Still, it wasn’t. Faeline knew that all too well. She hurried herself to the oven and prepped it with the woodblocks and leaves and set up the tinder, she couldn’t help glancing behind her as she did her work. Too often had she had the dream of being pushed into the oven herself, that she’d become rather paranoia about it all. After all it was unusual for her to have lived this long already. Hags tended to sacrifice their servants, especially when they became bored or annoyed with them.
But the Hag was still nowhere in sight, lighting the oven quickly and closing the oven door she finally allowed her beating heart to calm down a bit and look around.
She listened to the sounds upstairs, but heard nothing. Maybe the Hag had gone to her bed for a lie down. It wasn’t uncommon for Hadestra. Especially when the old Crone had guests, she wanted to be and look her sharpest so she would impress the others.
This new found silence allowed Faeline’s curiousity to seep in. Earlier that week Hadestra had brought something home that was more unusual.
It was a machine, a metal container of sorts and it had been carefully locked and warded with strange runes. Hadestra had cackled with such glee and almost danced, talking in riddles about rare blood and the unlocking of old secrets. The old hag had stored it in the Ritual room, below the cellar and had given Faeline strange looks of contentment, glee? Faeline wasn’t sure. Still Faeline had been rather curious as to what was actually in it. It had to be something of significance to elicit such a response from the crone.