The three Green Eyed Ones encircled you three. Had you not already caught on, three is an important number mystically. Sometimes, it refers to the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. In this case, you Klara would be the Maiden - young and full of innocence; Carolina, you would be the Mother, reaching the height of your power; and you Jack would be our old wise Crone, your face marred with wrinkles and spots. If I ever felt a calling to plastic surgery, it would be in order to administer the botox that you desperately need, my old friend.
"I think we will keep it," the Green Eyed Ones hissed. The child had been put down, with a broken bone in the process. That was a shame. They preferred intact bones for their decor.
"You have no power here,
Sorcerer Supreme," they spat, their glowing green eyes zeroing in on Jack.
Carolina, you would feel a ghost of lips on your ear, whispering softly. No one else could hear what you did. It was a special sort of sense that no one else had.
"I'm waiting for you, love," the voice beckoned.
"Come and see." I am certain I do not need to tell you whose voice this is.
"In fact, I think we are hungry... for
more," the Green Eyed Ones exclaimed. Klara had been striped of her soul, meaning most of her nutritional value was gone. Carolina was off the menu, protected by Witchfire. That left you, Jack, as the option for their snack.
The three pounced on you - one of them ended up getting knocked aside by the others, getting in the way. The other two attempted to grab you, to sink their bony fingers into your chest and devour your soul, but they only succeeded in scratching you. Lengthy, bleeding wounds appeared on your chest and cheek.
* * *
You lost a far amount of time, Madalyne, during your discussion with the demon Vernath. I can only hope that it is not yet too late for your mortal soul, that you will not be condemned to follow in his dark footsteps. But I fear it is already too late.
When you awake, you are no longer in the woods. Instead, you are chained in what looks like the dungeon of a castle. Your arms and legs are shackled, chained to the wall. There are bars, lined with silver, designed to prevent your escape. I wish I could say that it was silent, there in the dark. But it is not.
You hear Ananym's screams. "Please, stop, noooo!!!!"
Maybe a minute passes. Or maybe it's an hour. But the door opens, revealing a tall, stupid looking demon.
Sym. You've met him before. You aren't friends.
Sym snorted. "Boss says I have to give you a choice. Join or die," Sym explains. "But I gotta be honest - I've been wantin' to torture the shit out of you for a while." He has a spiked club in his hand and he eyes you, smiling toothily. "So what'd'ya say, Maddie?"
Runa the Grey
Location: Limbo
Skills: Intuition
Spells: Elder Futhark Runes
Runa was not irritated to hear Max reveal their old name - it was nice in some ways to hear it said again. And should any of her new companions attempt to use it against her, well, she knew their names. It was mutually assured destruction.
"Yes, I imagine it may very well be longer for me," Runa mused. The last time they had seen Max, well... Only one of them had walked away from that encounter. But she really was pleased to see him, just as she was pleased to see Edus.
It was helpful that neither of them knew the extent of the actions they had taken. Neither of them even knew whose bones made up the staff that Runa held tightly, her fingers having worn groves into the marrow. Most Midgardian marriage vows said
till death do us part - Runa had not included that sentence in their vows. Even though their husband had ascended, they kept a part of him with them.
She imagined Edus and Max may not approve.
The versions of them she had killed certainly had objected to a lot of things she had done.
Runa didn't answer Max as to how she was - they were pretty certain that Max would form his own opinions, given their appearance. The missing eyes was a big one. And the signs of old age and seeming frailty. The fight had stopped, thanks to Max's spellwork, and she could hear the sounds of Annika viciously ripping one of the remaining demons to shreds. They smiled. It was nice to see the young ones having fun.
"Yes, we should press on - and find this Witchfire," Runa agreed. She was mildly amused with Prudence's discomfort - it shone through in the sorceress' voice.
"They may be responsible for Stephen's death - and for our coming to this realm." They paused for a moment, considering. Then, they reached into their pockets and produced their bag of runes. The runes were carved, allowing them to feel the symbols under their finger tips.
Runa reached into the bag, concentrating and focusing. There was a simple question to ask -
where was Witchfire? They drew ōþila.
Heritage, estate, possession. And in their mind's eye, they saw it. A castle on a hill, illuminated by lightning strikes.
"We are looking for a castle, old and terrible," Runa explained calmly to the others.
The rest would not need much more description, as while Runa could not see it, they could. In the distance, there was a tall imposing structure on a mountain, with an ominous cliff. It was the castle of Runa's vision. The lair of Witchfire.
