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Witches Brew

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Witches Brew last won the day on August 29

Witches Brew had the most liked content!

About Witches Brew

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  • Birthday 03/27/1998

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    In the woods somewhere
  • Interests
    Reading, writing, anime, drawing, painting, Marvel, Game of Thrones, and Witchcraft
  • Occupation
    College Student

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  1. Eleanor never got used to the mornings anymore. It was quiet, her sisters had gone missing, and she missed them terribly. She often found herself standing in the middle of Isabelle's room, just staring at the large bed they would sometimes share, but now it lay empty and unmade, just as she had left it. It seemed all of those she had loved had left, including her beloved Constans. The news of Father Constans' and the Lady Ioreth's disappearance troubled the young elf, but there was nothing she could do but let God protect them, and to cooperate with Tirkas to help keep the citizens of Coth safe and happy. She had been keeping herself busy, running the temple, helping the acolytes, and seeing to her children's needs should they come to visit her. Sometimes she would meet with Tirkas, and they'd discuss important news over a cup of tea. It was one of the only times she felt close to Constans, sitting in his library, speaking with one of his closest friends. She hoped that she and Tirkas could become friends as well. That morning she woke alone, the faint sounds of the acolytes softly chatting were heard even in her bedroom. She sat up, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, and grabbed a jar of white powder from her side table, and pulled off the cork, and used a small scoop to spoon three does of the powder into her water glass she kept on the table. She stirred it thoroughly, and brought it to her lips so she could gulp it down. Once her medicine was downed, she set the glass back on the table, and started to get ready for the day. She dressed quietly, pulling the tight fitting velvet gown over her head, and she pulled half of her hair back, and tied it with some ribbon. She pushed her feet gently into some boots, and opened her door, heading down the hall towards the kitchens. Today she would be heading into town, she had no prior appointments, and the older acolytes would be taking care of the Temple while she was away. She entered the kitchen, and grabbed a basket, and started to fill it with loaves of bread that were cooling off on the counter. She covered the bread with a clean towel, and she made her way out of the temple. She made her way down the dusty road into town, smiling at Cothites that stopped to greet her, even exchanging small conversations. She passed out a few loaves of bread, giving them to children or people she often saw at the Temple. She was actually heading towards the Church, on her way to see Tirkas, to see if perhaps he would like some bread and a chat over some tea. However, today wasn't a normal day, as she was soon to find out. Screaming. There was so much screaming. People were screaming, people were running, some of them even had blood on their clothes. Oh God. What was happening?! "Mother Eleanor! Mother Eleanor! Please, you have to run, they're killing everyone! You're in danger, please Mother Eleanor!" A child ran up to her, grabbing her hands, making her drop the basket. "Please Mother Eleanor, they already got my Papa!" @Spooky Mittens @Better Than Gore @Revvys @Opaquely Translucent
  2. The three brothers silenced as a voice called their attention, and Trav rose a thick brow, and rubbed his beard. This was certainly different, but the elf seemed friendly enough. He stood, and went to approach the botanical elf with a boy on his shoulders, and he held out his arm for the elf to grasp. Should he take it, the man would then grasp the elf's forearm, and give a firm shake. He then released it so his arm was free to cross against his chest. "Hail stranger, not ofen we get many elf folk round 'ere." He said, and he jerked his head back towards his brothers. "My names Trav, and those two oafs are my brothers, Carter and Keith. What can we do for yas?" He listened to what the elf had to say, and he rubbed his beard, thinking back to see if he could remember any strangers from Coth coming through town. "Can't say I recall any army marchin' through, or any prophet. I do recall seein' some sort of mountain shaped man o'er by the hills at the end of town, but that's about it." Trav said, and Carter nodded. "He had to be the biggest man I 'ave ever seen." He added. Now Trav has heard of Coth, some of the people trying to flee spoke of it, and it's mysterious Green God. Some say that there were many elves there, and Trav himself had a small fascination with elven ladies, so he wouldn't mind going there one day. "Sorry state eh? Yeah well, whatever your Prophet was marching towards, our fine leaders scampered away from. Just up and left to God knows where." "I 'eard they was goin' to some Island cross the sea!" Keith said from his seat. Trav shrugged, and turned his attention back to the elf and the boy. The elf already had coin in his hand, and this intrigued him. "What services are you lookin' for?" @Better Than Gore @Spooky Mittens
  3. Times have been tough in Temple City after the governing body just up and vanished. With no ruling body, people took to the streets, looting and rioting. Smoke billowed out of smashed windows and store fronts. The city guard and local Knights tried to stop them, but when their numbers doubled, and then tripled, most of them fled. Those who remained were gathered up by the more ballsy men. Men who found contentment with causing misery. They took up residence in one of the grander buildings, which now lay ruined, with smashed windows and holes peppering the walls. The people in Temple City were terrified, the men had formed a guild of sorts, calling themselves Lords, and demanding that every resident pay a tax, offering protection. Protection from what, you ask? Themselves. Those who could pay would have their houses left alone, their belongings intact, their wives untouched. Those who had nothing to offer suffered, often beaten to an inch of their lives, left with nothing, except the promise of another beating the within the fortnight if they couldn't pay once more. Some tried to flee, packing up their belongings to go elsewhere, anywhere. Some spoke of escaping to Blaireville, or town even further from there, but they were stopped. Their bodies swung from trees outside the city, warning those who even thought of leaving. Most tried to go throughout their day as if nothing had happened, artisans sweeping out broken glass from the inside of their shops so that patrons might think about visiting once more, blacksmithies pounding out iron beside their smelters, and Masons, their signs hanging outside their shop, just waiting for someone to walk inside. Though something had happened. The town was not so quiet today. Visitors wandered through the streets, and residents poked their heads out doors and windows, whispers were floating on the wind, carrying themselves to curious ears. They had taken up residence in the Church uptown, a church the Masons had built, and now saw destroyed. A group of three brothers sat outside the building they owned together, quietly chatting amongst themselves, wondering who these new visitors might be. They brought what looked like an army with them, perhaps they were here to help? They couldn't be certain. Besides, who in their right mind would bring that many armed men here? They were sure to get a visit from the Lords. "Who sent 'em, do you think?" One brother asked. "Can't be certain, they don't wave any banners." One replied. The two looked to their eldest brother, a broad shouldered man with a thick yellow beard, and dull gray eyes named Trav. Trav looked at his brothers and shrugged. "I don't think anyone sent 'em. Too bad though, once those thugs get hold of this, they'll be down belows, wit' them knights who didn't have the sense lef' in 'em. Poor blokes." @Spooky Mittens @Better Than Gore
  4. Myth smiled at Arturo, and again at Vice. They were both being so kind, in their own different ways. As Korben lay his head in her lap, she sighed, and gently stroked his head. She took the cup of tea in one hand, and dipped her head in thanks. She sipped it carefully, so that she did not burn her lips, and she could feel the liquid slip down her throat and warm her belly. She wasn’t normally a fan of the dirty leaf water, but she wouldn’t refuse anyone’s kindness, especially since she was a guest here in someone’s home. “I just want to thank you both, for your kindness. You had no obligation to help me, and you both have gone out of your way to do so. I hope I can consider the both of you friends.” She said, her heart swelling with small bursts of happiness. She sipped at the tea, her nausea gradually reducing. She set the cup down in her lap, her free hand idly rubbing Korben’s ears with her thumb and index finger. Night time was soon approaching, and she’s have to leave to go back and check on Tamlen and Dorian, change her clothes, and then meet Zan back out in the swamp. She finished the tea, and set the cup on a table close by. “I’m afraid I have to get going, thank you both so much for all your help.”
  5. Mythandriel was simply overwhelmed. She didn’t know how to comprehend this, there was so much to unpack. First of all, her lover went rouge, and dark unspoken things happened to him. Then there was the the fact that she was pregnant with his child, and her rouge lover wouldn’t be around to help her deal with this. Ioreth went with Viscerex and the Bald One to fight some battle, and has yet to return. Ioreth was going to be very disappointed in her when she returned. She didn’t like Zanzarog, she warned her about him, and Mythandriel, as stubborn as she was, didn’t listen. Arturo placed his hand on her shoulder as she sobbed, and Korben took it upon himself to weasel his way into her arms, and Myth obliged. She wrapped her arms around the dogs furry neck, and nuzzled her face deep into his fur, the tears flowing freely. She was embarrassed, acting so childish in front of two strangers in a strange home. She couldn’t contain herself. Eventually however, after what seemed like ten minutes of endless sobs, she calmed down, and used her skirt to dry her tears and wipe her nose. She hung her head in shame, and placed the bucket on the floor beside her. “I- I am sorry for my behavior, it’s just this day has been, well a little much.”
  6. Mythandriel was prepared for his explanation, and she was grateful to Arturo for complimenting her bow arm, but what Vice told her, it made her want to pass out. Pregnant?! She couldn’t be! She had slept with Zanzarog one time, and that was weeks ago! She put a hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling very ill. “How do you know this? I-I, I can’t be pregnant..” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She looked at Vice as he tended to her feet, and she put a hand on his shoulder. “How do you know?!” She asked him again, this time with more worry in her voice. She was all alone! She couldn’t raise a baby all alone! This was Zanzarog’s child, and he was off, doing his own thing. Suddenly, the feeling in her gut rose to her throat, and she grabbed the bucket Vice was using for disposables, and she leaned over the bucket, and vomited heavily inside it. She groaned, hugging it, and tears slid down her face. “I-I can’t be pregnant! I-It’s impossible!” She wailed.
  7. Mythandriel stood there anxiously as Zan went silent. It looked as if he was wracking his mind, trying to find an explanation for how she could possibly be pregnant. He was the only one she had ever been with, and they had only been together that one time, and that was weeks ago. She watched him, getting really worried at this point. She glanced down at her feet, and then she felt his hands around her waist, hoisting her up in the air. She let out a squeal as he spun her around, letting out his excitement over the news, and he set her back down, and it took her a moment to not be so dizzy. As he asked her who had confirmed the pregnancy, she was quickly in his embrace once more, and she laughed at his statement. She gazed up at him, and she laughed. "Oh come on, you're the most handsome creature to have ever walked this Earth." She said, and she got up on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his lips. This was the first time they had kissed in a long while, and she had almost forgotten what it felt like. His lips were still as soft as she remembered, though they felt different now, due to the scarring. She kissed him deeply, pressing her lips against his hard, and her arm wrapped around his neck. When she pulled away, she pressed her forehead against his chin. "You know, there is something I've heard humans talk about, when two people love each other, and never want another. It's a bondage ceremony, taking two people and making them one. I forget what it's called, but I think we should do that." She said, and she pressed her lips against his once more. "What do you think?"
  8. Mythandriel was happy to see that the stranger had lived, and she felt badly about not even knowing his name, even when he spoke of her as an old friend. She ducked her head as the healer spoke to her gruffly, and she felt a spark of anger in her chest. What did he mean she shouldn’t have been fighting at all? She sauntered over to a cushion, and sat next to the swordsman, who seemed to be better, at least better than he was earlier. She turned to face him, and she smiled. “I’m Mythandriel, by the way.” She said, and she didn’t know how else to greet him, so she’s did something she’s seen humans do. She stuck out her hand, and waited for him to take it. “I believe this is called a shake. I’ve seen humans do it before when meeting someone new.” She explained, in case he did not know either. After introductions were out of the way, Myth turned back to Vice as he gathered is medicines. “What did you mean, when you said I shouldn’t be fighting?” She asked him. “Do you not believe women can fight?”
  9. Myth let out a loud yelp as Korben shot off into the woods, keeping her head low to avoid any branches that threatened to snap back and hit her in the face. Her fists held tightly to handfuls of Korben’s fur, and she kept her eyes tightly closed, amazed that this dog could run so fast. It was only when he slowed down did she open her eyes, and she gawked at the massive tree that grew there. She had never seen this before, and she frequented these woods. How long has this been here? The pup pawed at the trunk, before bouncing down the stairs in some sort of corridor, making his way inside. Myth straightened herself up, looking around in awe. Someone made a home out of this? Korben stopped in a main room, where two men were chatting quietly, but stopped as they arrived. Korben was basically dancing, his happy wiggles as what seemed to be his master shot her a glare before scratching his massive ear. “You’re not lost at all it seems.” Mythandriel told him as she carefully slid off his back, her feet hitting the floor. She used Korben as a crutch, and she looked around the room, instantly recognizing the other man. “It’s you, you’re the swordsman from earlier, I’m sorry to have ran off on you after the fight, but I had something to take care of afterwards.” She said, her words rushing over one another. She looked at Vice, and she dipped her head. “You’re the dog master, I assume?”
  10. “Oh!” She gasped, as his voice came forth from the dark, she turned, watching as her beloved emerged from the darkness, walking towards her. “I wouldn’t miss this.” Mythandriel said, and she met him halfway, closing the distance between them both. He looked over his shoulders nervously, making sure no one had followed. Who was he talking about? Had someone followed him? Had someone followed her? All this secrecy was nerve wracking, but she tried to focus on the Orc in front of her. She wouldn’t ask questions, she wouldn’t force him to reveal anything that might put him in danger, she only wanted this time with him. He reached into his cloak, and revealed a necklace in his large palm, the jewel pulsing in between his fingers. As he explained what it was, she smiled, and took the chain between her fingers, and moved her hair out of the way, and clasped the chain around her neck, the jewel resting between her breasts. She touched it gently, and smiled as she felt it pulsate with Zan’s own heartbeat. “I love it.” She said, and she wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into his chest as he embraced her. “I love you too Zanzarog..” She said, and she suddenly remembered, she had some news to tell him. She stepped back from the embrace, and she took his hands. “I have something to tell you, and it’s very important. Please don’t be upset.” She said, and she squeezed his hands, and she brought them to her lips and she’s kissed each one, trying to ease her nerves. “Do you remember the night you tried teaching me to fight? And we..., well, you know?” She said, her eyes having a hard time meeting his own. She took a deep breath, and squeezed his hands harder. She peered up at him through her hair, and she let it out. “When I was at the Healers today, he told me that I’m pregnant.”
  11. Myth watched as Korben lay down, gesturing towards his back. Did he..want her to get on? Myth blinked, watching as the dog gestured over and over with his snout towards his back, hoping she’d get the message. Myth understood it, sure, perhaps he knew she was injured? This dog was smart, very smart. Whoever trained him must have been a very diligent person. She sighed, and she limped beside the dog, and she bunched her skirt in her hands, so that she could easily swing one leg over his back, and comfortably sit, and she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his massive neck. She pressed her head against his fur, and her hair hung over her eyes. She gave him a pat, and let out a deep breath. “Alright, let’s go then.”
  12. Mythandriel smiled, this pup reminded her of Tamlen, who had been home alone all day by himself, who knows what trouble the pup got into while she was away. The giant dog wagged his tail, but he seemed focused on something, and his teeth gently grabbed hold of he blouse, and tugged. Myth looked at the dog, confused, and she considered pushing him away so that she would be left alone, but she couldn’t do that to him, he was so sweet and so gentle. She figured, he wanted her to stand, so she slowly got to her feet, hissing when her feet started stinging persistently from the pressure. She brushed herself off, Amanda tilted her head as she looked at the dog. “What is it boy? What’s wrong?” She asked him. He still held her blouse in his teeth, and she placed a hand on his head, her fingers stroking his fur. “Do you know where your owner is? Do you need me to take you back to them?”
  13. Mythandriel flinched when he spoke, but she thought heavily about his words. Perhaps, he was just bluffing to keep face with the imp? Perhaps, he was coming home? She’s glanced at the Imp, and she removed her hand from his chest, and out that hand over her heart as she brought her attention back to her beloved. His mouth moved wordlessly as he put on his helmet, and she just caught what he was saying, and she tried not to look excited at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. She nodded, and she gave him a small smile. She would return, and she would wait for him. His hand gently patted her head, and she leaned into his touch, yearning for him to touch her more. As he walked away from her, she heard the orchish, and her heart fluttered. “Goodbye My love. I shall carry you with me until you return.” Later that night, Mythandriel’s heart beat loudly as she stood in the same spot as hours before, her hands nervously tugging on her hair. She was clean now, her wounds tended too, bandages covering burns and cuts she had gathered earlier in the day, thanks to Vice. However, she now had news, but she wasn’t sure how he would take it once she told him. It worried her, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. Her gut churned, her silver eyes staring at the ground nervously as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She had to tell him, she had too. This was going to change their lives.
  14. Mythandriel was content to just lay there in peace, if not for the stinging pain on her feet, legs, and arms. Thankfully, the cuts she had were small, and they were more like scrapes than cuts. Falling out of trees was not her favorite hobby, however it was much better than fighting Lizardfolk. She shut her eyes, perhaps a nap would lessen the hurt she felt. She was close to falling asleep when she heard something. It wasn’t soft, like a whine, and it sounded mournful, like something had upset it. Then, Myth let out a yelp as a large wet nose suddenly pressed against her face, and her arms instantly raised themselves to cover it from whatever had found her. She opened her eyes slowly, scared that some beast had come to devour her. However, as she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see a massive dog standing over her, peering down at her with sad eyes. Tamlen had beautiful eyes like his too, and the thought of her pup tugged at her heart. Myth lay there still, but she reached forward to stroke the massive baby. “Hello there, who might you be? Are you lost?” She rasped, her fingers dragging through his fur. @Revvys @Opaquely Translucent
  15. Mythandriel stood alone, in the lands where the forests met the swamps, her hand clutching at her chest. She hadn’t moved since her beloved left her standing there, his departing words in orcish lingering, blowing soft kisses on her earlobes. However, it was something else that lingered there too. His lips, quickly forming silent words to her, and the regret dripping from each word and action that he performed stayed with her. And she feared that if she left, he would be leaving her all alone once again, and she’d once more have to succumb to loneliness and heartbreak. She couldn’t tell anyone about this, not even Dale or Sabine. She wouldn’t have all of Coth marching after her beloved, she remembered what had happened to Viscerex after he had punched The Bald one. She had to protect him. Eventually, she sent Dorian home, she who protested after what she had witnessed, carried on with her mothers wish, and left the elf there, staring off into the marsh, waiting. The pain of her wounds soon got to her, and standing became unbearable. But she stood, she stood until the pain made her collapse in the moss, her head narrowly missing a log. She didn’t try to get up. Zan was going to meet her back here tonight. He was coming, he was coming back, and she wouldn’t dare miss his return. @Opaquely Translucent @Revvys
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