Maere the Witch of the Darkest Woods, Herald of Loss

Title History

Role

Chapter 4

It happened in the high spring. It was later than expected for a human, but
earlier than expected for a dark elf. The daughter of the Witch Wood came of
age.

Maere became a woman and with those blessings and the powers of birth, the
unsated hunger of her gourdian sibling's attention began to drift her way.
No matter how much she fed him, he would drift in her wake, following, always
watching.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

One night, when she stepped outside to relieve herself, beyond the hill they
had built around their home... eyes of ghostly white light stared at her,
watching, hungry in their gaze.

Inevitably it happened. The day the hunger was too much, the night The
Pumpkin Man came for her and the moment her mother laughed in her insanity,
failing to protect her.

Throwing her mothers fire seeds, she thought maybe she could defend and
destroy it. It rose again, too powerful.

She ran beyond the Witch Wood until the horrible clacking and her mother's
insane laughter faded behind her. She kept running, passing thru the emerald
forest into the cliffs beyond. It was there she finally stopped, staring like
a frightened animal at the world around her.

She looked up into the sky at where she knew the moon to be. It was black and
cold, the New Moon at its zenith. She breathed in deeply and her omen was
found.

She refused to run from necromancy, but she would not lose herself in its
insanity. She would find her own magic of a different sort. She would look to
the new moon and the shadow over which it influenced and pick up where her
mother had failed even in her great power.

Hers would be an unchartered path not eclipsed by her mother. This path would
be her own.

Role

Chapter 3

The floating head moved through the forest in a slow spinning motion. How she
hated the sinister smile carved into its pumpkin face for it was never satisfied.
Along dragged the bones and sticks.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The dying trees were devoid of animals, for The Pumpkin Man had ate them all.
Gone were her mother's warnings of the flow of Time and Fate outside the
witch wood, for her mother was consumed by her new children of the pumpkin
patch.

Maere was no longer warned to stay in the Witch Wood, for her mother's other
children needed food. Needed it more. And so her dutiful daughter went.
Fearful that to not do so, would put more distance between herself and mother
than even time and fate itself could.

First, she hunted for animals outside the forest. HE was insatiable. Soon it
was not enough.

Next, her mother gave her the location of plagued farmhouses from which to
gather corpses. She never questioned the origin of those plagues. Another one
for the pumpkin patch.

On each trip when she returned, her mother was older, unnaturally so, and the
forest more ancient.

Then came the paladin crusader, who died in his assault, feeding their
pumpkin patch. And all was quiet. HE was satisfied. The Pumpkin Man was
still. Mother was at peace. Years later, Maere would muse over this
moment; would the crusader have done it all again.. if he knew the evil
legacy his sacrifice had wrought?

So the orders were given: Pixies and humans for the pumpkin patch. It was
easy, Maere didnt need to commit murder. The pixies and farmers knew the
daughter of Marealee and so they attacked. Maere only had to defend herself.

She learned to attack first. To become efficient. To kill before others
killed her.

Soon there was always food for the pumpkin patch.

Role

Chapter 2

The little girl who slept beneath, on the pallet below the bench was now
older now, though not even a young lady. Outside this day, she stared
wistfully at the farmhouses beyond the edge of the Witch Wood, wondering
about the world beyond. She extended her fingers and unknowingly a newt
crawled down it, her kinship with the creatures of the Witch Wood and her
gift inevitable.

She heard a voice calling her name, and it seemed alien, for her mother's
voice rang with excitement. Darting thru the woods, she arrived to
Marealee's side to find not the danger she was expecting, but childlike joy
on her mothers face.

"Maere! Here, here. Sit down next to me and watch!" her mother exclaimed
from on hands and knees. And so Maere got on all fours and crawled up beside her
mother in the pumpkin patch.

Before them on the ground, her mother had disemboweled an animal, and now was
busy stuffing the still-beating heart into a carved pumpkin. Suddenly she
dropped the spellbook in her left hand, and incanting, brought the gourd
crashing down to impale itself on bones and sticks poking straight out of the
ground.

Then it began to move! Maere jumped back. However, she was unsure if it was
because of the 3-foot creature, or her mothers uncharacteristic delightful
mood. Then the creature stumbled.

"Quick Maere! Gather more sap and cloth!" her mother ordered as she
started praying over the sap, hardening it. Then she spoke a word of magic,
and the cloth and sticks drew tighter together.

"More pumpkins!" cried Marealee. So Maere fetched, and so her mother
created.

Soon, their once beautiful pumpkin patch was a shifting mass of tiny pumpkin
men. And they began to devour everything. That night her mother rocked back
and forth over her dark-elven tomb until she calmly stated, "We can do
better!" and walked outside in the night.

That's when HE came. THE Pumpkin Man. And life in the Witch Wood changed
forever.

Role

Chapter 1

Deep within the Witch Wood, a small girl in a small room woke and slowly sat
up from the pallet beneath the bench where she slept, careful not to hit her
head. It was morning and she recognized the familiar chant. The little girl
smiled. Her mother, Marealee, was always most calm and distracted when
focused on this dark-elven tomb she so badly wanted to comprehend. She so
greatly admired the powerful being that was her mother.

Tip toeing quietly, so as not to interrupt, she passed along the wall of
pictures depicting both works of healing and newly discovered dark arts. Once
outside, Maere began her daily chores and saw to collecting the ingredients
they would need for lunch from their fresh garden. She was mindful to stick
to the quiet northwest corner of the witch wood. "Never out of site from
the pumpkin patch, Maere!" her mother would admonish, "Time and Fate move
differently outside The Witch Wood."

From the beautiful fresh garden she collected roots, turnips, and finally
some fresh pumpkin. Her mother always loved the pumpkin. Last she went to the
pond for the water they would need. As she kneeled down, she wondered again
at her features, similar to her mother's but also more fey. Did she look
too different to be skilled like her? Suddenly she bit her lip. The pond had
continued to grow more stagnant these past few days.

She glanced back to the northeast, looking for the throne of vines and their
home nearby. She bit her lip again, wondering what to do, and decided to draw
the water anyway, wishing she could yet create a spring like her mother which
her mother insisted would come.

Moving quietly was natural to her and she re-entered their home unnoticed and
began making lunch, determined to keep her mother in a good mood. Finally,
she set down the fresh soup and turned away, moving towards her pallet. She
had only gone a few steps when the bowl shattered against the wall in front
of her, destroying a design of dark sorcery on the wall.

She stared at the dark art depiction in horror. She'd be blamed for the
stagnant water. As her mother's shrieking howl wailed across their small
room, she realized her mother would blame her for the ruined depiction on the
wall as well.

She dove beneath her bench, twisted with her back bracing against the wall,
and brought her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. She closed her
eyes and waited for the shrieking to stop. It always stopped eventually.

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