A wicked witch!

[no_fastolfe]

[OOC: For heroes who've heard of the wicked witch of the west woods, for lost damsels and innocent young things... for those wood nymphs she's feuding with... make yourself at home.] In the Dark and Dangerous Woods outside of the city, there is a Dark and Dangerous Path that leads off into the west wood

Comments

But why sir it is the most srs of srs ports for srs

[no_fastolfe]

"Oh deary, deary me, my back," Rathlina said, executing a bare dip of a bow that only hunched her a little further than she was already hunched.

Hmph. She'd had some hope about this pompous king; the crones and hags local 501 manual said that three minor offenses to a seemingly innocent old lady-- or one grievous offense-- meant he was fair game for the cursing. But as usual, the servant knew the rules himself and was spoiling all the fun.

"It's been so long since I've been to town, good sirs, so long," she creaked, raising her suspiciously broom-shaped walking stick to trace a shaking and somewhat circuitous path over the map.

"Over the hill and over the dell,
Across the old bridge where the troll used to dwell
The path to the west by the great oak tree
And soon to the kingdom you will be."

It would get them there. It would cost them another half a day of travelling to go her way, and it rhymed, so there was that little comfort. But she wasn't going to risk having those awful good-fairies stick their noses back in her business.

Oh yes, of course! All the srs bizness here

[systmadmin]

Gervais' wide eyes tracked the broom-like stick in Rathlina's hand as she waved it about, while Charles, instead, paid attention to the path that she drew across the map with a great intensity in his expression.

"Excellent!" Charles exclaimed happily, once Rathlina had pointed out the way. He quickly rolled the map back up and shoved it into Gervais' hands; with it returned to his possession, the servant hopped back a few feet away from Rathlina, then clasped the parchment to his body like a child would a teddy bear--as if it would protect him from her.

"You have been most helpful, peasant!" Charles said, as Gervais nodded emphatically behind him. "But may I ask one more favor, before we set out to the Kingdom." His head turned from side to side, checking for something, then Charles leaned forward to whisper, "Would you happen to know where a witch is to be found?" His voice lowered even further, so much so that his servant behind him leaned forward as well to try and hear. "It seems I may be in need of one, at present!"

[no_fastolfe]

"Witches are dangerous, your Highness," Rathlina quavered. "What could you want with one? No, no, it's better to leave them alone." It wouldn't do to jump the broom. She would have to be careful about it. Delicate. Deeelicate. Keeping an eye on Gervais-- who was no fun, it was no fun if it wasn't a surprise, honestly-- she said in her reedy voice:

"I have lived in these woods a very long time
What sort of a witch are you trying to find?" she said, because sometimes you simply had to rhyme. Just a little.

Sorry for slow tags

[systmadmin]

His gloved hand touched to his chin in thought once more. "Hm, dangerous, yes." It didn't seem to phase him at all--in fact, that seemed to interest him even more. "Gervais!" He called, one hand lifted. The servant perked up immediately at his name and bowed. "Go be useful and tend to the carriage." Gervais bowed again at this, then shot Rathlina another suspicious look as he turned to leave.

Then, once his servant had finally gone, Charles straightened.

"There are different types, you say? Very well. I nee--" Oops. Charles paused, then rephrased it. "I know of someone, a friend of a friend, who happens to be of royal blood--extremely handsome, much like I am--who has a pressing need for a witch's curse. Or brew. Or whatever unnatural nonsense witches usually get up to."

Slowtime is the best time!

[no_fastolfe]

Hrrrm. Well, she did need a new cauldron and they didn't come cheap. Rathlina twitched her hand in a signal, and her broomlings straightened up and started to move again, quietly. Arbroomhild, always curious, came over to look over the king's shoulder.

"Any old potion? Or a particular potion?" she asked, setting her broomling-stick down to fluff out its bristles and get back to work. Suddenly, she was all business. "What do you need it to do?"

[systmadmin]

Suddenly the brooms in the area perked up and moved, which caused Charles to blink hard in surprise. "You're a witch!" He remarked, pointing out the obvious. The slightly shocked look on his face melted away, and a wide smile replaced it. "Fantastic, then! That saves me a trip."

Then, down to business: "This other person, who is most definitely not me, needs the potion to put another person--who may or may not be royalty--out of commission." And here both his hands lift to do a massive air-quote when he says 'commission', hoping she'd get his meaning.

"Do you have such a potion? I will pay handsomely for it." And to emphasize his point, Charles pulls out a small, ornately decorated coin purse and shakes it. The heavy sound of coins jingling inside it would be enough to hint at the great amount.

[no_fastolfe]

"My potions aren't often for people," Rathlina said, with a scowl of though, tapping her bottom lip with a long talon of a nail. "No, I'm more the enchanter type. Now, if they don't have to be-- " she drew the nail over her neck and made an unpleasant squishing sound, "I could enspell their doors to never let them out. Or their carriage to take them to the next kingdom over. Unfortunately, some wretched fairy's laid a curse on me, and I can't make anything that's going to hurt them."

She sighed. "And the last decent warlock we had in these parts has gone all native in the village. No, from me it's a sleeping draught or a living house. Fresh out of poisons of all kinds. But you know, a little foxglove goes a long way. Eh? Eh?"

[systmadmin]

"Oh, I see." Disappoinment fell over his face at that; perhaps this would not be as easy as he'd assumed--and wanted--it to be. But, really, Charles didn't have the time to search high and low for other witches around the area, so it looked like this one would have to do.

"Perhaps a sleeping draught, then? How long does that last?"

[no_fastolfe]

"We-ell, with the quality of moonlight glimmer and midnight oil we've been getting, I can only promise you ninety-two years," Rathlina said, tapping her long fingernails together. "Still, who's going to notice the extra eight on the side. Very reasonable price. Fifty gold pieces for ninety-two years, that's more than a year a gold piece, sir, that's a bargain."

[systmadmin]

"Hmmm. That should suffice, I'd think!" Another wide grin. "I accept." It was, really, more than enough. Charles held up and shook the coin purse once more, then lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "I have enough gold coin for it in this. Now where is the potion?"

[no_fastolfe]

"Needs to be made, sir. Needs to be made." Rathlina crooked a finger at him, beckoning him into the cottage. "Come, my florafiends!" she said, and her flowery minions perked up and started to dance into the house, in suspicious unison. A musical number was about to begin.

Musicals! Oh I love musicals

[systmadmin]

"Ohhhh yes! Got it!" Charles tucked away the coins, rested one hand against the pommel of his sword, then went to follow her into the cottage--careful not to trample the strange little flowers once he'd noticed them move. As they danced ahead of him, his head tilted a bit, both eyebrows raised in bafflement.

Odd creatures, these witches. And odder still the company that they kept.

Put'm together and what have you got?

[no_fastolfe]

The music that came from absolutely no-where didn't surprise or even strike the notice of anyone; the brooms and florafiends danced in choreographed circles around the pot as Rathlina chanted her potion making song-- waving for this broom to toss in The laugh of the creek! The sigh of the wind! and that flower to drop in the string of the web of the spider that spins. Even the pet rock nudged a bottle of willow-tears in.

She wrapped up with a stirring Powell-us Donovan Calvin Ascenion HIGGLETY PIGGLETY BOOM-! and the cauldron erupted in a skull-shaped cloud of green smoke.

That kind of show is how you know you got the good potion.

"Heeeere," she said with a cackle, ladling some into a vial. "This will make them sleep! Sleep like the dead!"

All the homonculi turned to look at her.

"But just sleep," she grumbled, and they cheerfully went back to work. She held out one hand for the coins, bottle clasped in her other hand.

Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!

[systmadmin]

Charles didn't blink at all when the mysterious music started up, and even softly hummed to himself and waved around his hand to the rhythm as he watched the witch and her minions work. The green skull cloud did surprise him, however, and when it puffed into the air it forced him to take a full step back in poorly hidden alarm.

But when it was over with, Charles lifted his chin up and smiled a warm--and slightly devious--smile. "Excellent!" He quickly produced the coin bag once more, and offered it out to her. "That was quite the spectacle, dear witch. Here are your coins."

[no_fastolfe]

"Menace with a smile," Rathlina said cheerfully, and took the coins, handing them off to a loyal broomling before she handed over the little vial.

"A pleasure doing business with you. And for all your mischief needs, if the price is good-- visit Rathlina, the witch of West Wood!"

[systmadmin]

Charles gingerly took the vial between two fingers and immediately lifted it up to his face to peer, curious, into it. Then he carefully hid it away in a pocket somewhere within his outfit. He could barely contain his excitement at this point--all his plans were coming together, and so easily. It was beautiful.

"This encounter has been most excellent, witch! I shall keep your usefulness in mind the next time I am in need of such mischief. Now, I must be on my way to the kingdom. Farewell!" Charles touched two fingers to his temples in a short salute, both to the witch and her minions, then spun around to head out of the cottage. His carriage might take the scenic route to get to the city, but that was really a trifle in the grander scheme of what was to come, now that this potion was in his possession.