The Witching Hour

[meg 1994]

Spoiler

 

 

 

Change rides upon accursed tides.

 

An ear-splitting, guttural call of a war horn echoed throughout the bleached wasteland as the witches conversed. They fell silent, murmuring to each other as they filed out to investigate in silence.

 

Before them stood a ship of old make, coated in rime and ice. Misty figures glowered down at them, some shackled and hunched over, others proud and covered in furs. They lowered a worn wooden gangplank off the boat, as three distinct passengers of the ship descended. An old Skjoldier witch  approached the coven, flanked by aged and tired men, shackled with icy collars, blackened and hazy in their appearance.

 

They exchanged greetings.

 

Something was missing. They were incomplete.

 

Furious, the Witch led them down into the main hall. She turned to the men at her side. A simple question: Who would like to live? The thin, mousey man raised his hand. The Witch nodded. She held her hand out, taking the box of goods before lifting it, bringing it down hard against the mousey man’s face. She lifted it again as he collapsed to the ground, the sickening crunch of his skull echoing through the hall. She spit, before gesturing to the grizzled man.

 

A new beginning.

 

They held him to the ground, ice lifting to restrain him. The Witch tore open the cloth near his stomach, holding a small bit of blackened, wispy ice in her fingertips. She knelt down before the man, digging her fingertips into his exposed flesh. The grizzled man called out, a screaming, pained cry. The coven watched, leaning in curiously, excitedly. The Witch dug out a cavity in his abdomen, removing her hand before slipping in the seed of cursed ice. She held a wicked grin as she stood, bloodied arms extending.

 

It was done.

 

The first Altar was planted.

 

The first Sabbath performed.

But certainly not the last.

 

 

((Special thanks to @irredeemable creature@Avacyn@DahStalker for assisting love yall.))

[Leric 1097]

A particularly pale and hairless elf frowns at a certain absence, grumbling something about invitations. 

[AC 68]

"I suppose we'll just have to find a new place for the table she completely removed from existence in favor of this random dead man!"  Sif would comment whilst simultaneously flailing about.

[mitto 2312]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.