Wanted: The Witch of Dustwallow Marsh

(( Harro... I'm experimenting with something new this time! I'm going to add ambience! This is totally optional, of course, but if you like ambience, be prepared for a few links that will open up three more browser tabs. The first is this link. The second one is this link! Adjust the volumes for each so that they're not overwhelming each other, and then read on! For the third tab, that's just a temporary one for a couple minutes that you can close afterward that comes into play later in the story, so I'll put that link in its appropriate place in the story. Again, this is all optional, and I hope any potential ads to be skipped on these YouTube videos don't mess up immersion. Either way, whether you use the videos or not, I hope you enjoy the read!    ))

Wanted: The Witch of Dustwallow Marsh

Loud, raucous voices clamored over one another, drowning out the waves that gently rocked the ship and made the timbers creak and groan softly. The voices all wanted to know the precise story, beginning to end, and each one shouted its own question as the passenger ship’s mess hall held all aboard that were not on duty.

The crowd was gathered around a grey-bearded Dwarf at the bar, pressing drinks into his hands as the stout, sloshed, partially confused old soul looked about from person to person, waving for quiet that did not come.

“So, she’s dead then? They killed her?”

“But what about the curse? Is it lifted?”

“Who are these? From whence have they come?”

“Sure they aren’t liars, are ye? What proof ye got?”

The questions ran end to end, more being posed to the poor, exhausted Dwarf before he could answer a single one.

“Oi, quiet, yeh lot!” he finally roared. “Let ME tell it, aye?!”

The crowd eventually quieted, and another mead was shoved into the Dwarf’s thick hands.

“Tell it, then, Brugni Stonebeard!” one cried before hushing. A general uproar of agreement followed, and the Dwarf tried and failed to smooth down the coarse, wiry beard that covered most of his torso and gave his family their surname.

“Aye, shut it, then!” Brugni snapped, holding his hands high and motioning downward, as if to motion for everyone to sit down and be quiet. He took another long gulp of mead, ostensibly to refresh himself after the clamor, but really, he enjoyed keeping his rare audience on tenterhooks. He patted his wiry beard, then let out a loud belch, which did nothing to help the antsy crowd feel any happier.

“Aye,” he began with a slow, serious nod. “Aye, ‘twas a big, beefy, burly young lad, ‘twas, and right spry young black-haired lass what sported strange, wide purple eyes and curves tae make yer eyes boggle. Them two wore a black tabard apiece, they did, with a great cracked, grinning red skull on it, aye. The lad, he’s got hair the color o’ copper, and a young face with lots o’ stubble. A paladin lad and a warlock lass, both in full battle dress, plate armor and fel-green summoning gear. Odd pairing, that. ‘Twas this pair come, see, and asking about that wanted poster what the humans came and posted fer the head o’ that Dustwallow witch.”

“Preposterous!” interrupted a Quel’dorei male. “No two alone could take her. Whole detachments have been dispatched and disappeared. And you still have not told us from whence they came!”

“Shut it, I said, Satlaeth!” snapped Brugni again. “I’m telling it, ain’t I?”

Satlaeth frowned haughtily at the Dwarf, but said nothing further, taking a dainty sip of his wine and listening on.

“As I said, before I was so rudely interrupted…” Brugni earned himself a haughty huff. “’Twas this young lad and lass what came and showed the witch what for. Screamin’ about ladies and cats and ladies that were actually cats and confusing sh*te. Barking mad, the pair of them. They came to me, said they needed a guide, aye? Said they’d come to show that witch what for, and that they knew I’d been here since Lady Proudmoore first brought the Alliance to Kalimdor and established Theramore Isle.”

“Well, I know where to go, where to stop, and most definitely where not to go, aye. I told them I know how to get close and get back out again, but that I wasn’t gonna be fighting no witches and dead things and ghosties and mental stuff. They agreed, we struck our deal, and off we set. Staged the journey out of the Ruins of Theramore, aye, and struck out due west. Told ‘em there’s a road that goes northwest that’s more direct, but it goes through quicksand, so we gots to go around, see? The copper-headed young lad, he wanted to lead the way, and not let me guide. Seemed to think he’d only use me to point him in the right direction. Well, it’s his coin, and his funeral. I nodded me consent. The curvy lass didn’t do much more than look nervous and blush if I looked at her too long. Anywho, we sets out, right, heading due west…”

The muggy heat of Dustwallow Marsh never really got any easier to tolerate, regardless of how long one stayed here. Even at night, clothing clung to the skin, and sweat beaded at the brow. What made it worse was the bugs. The marsh teemed with countless insects of all shapes and sizes, bugs that flew and crawled and skittered and jumped. The cacophony of crickets and midges and mosquitoes that seemed to whine loudly when they crowded around the ears to land and crawl and bite their unfortunate host was highly uncomfortable.

Such was the foothold of the Alliance on Kalimdor before the Kaldorei joined the fold. And so did it remain, up until the mana bomb detonated at the behest of Garrosh Hellscream before his fall during the Pandaren campaign. It had been scouted by Instructor Duskwalker, a Ren’dorei from the Alliance, and Magister Zaedana, a Sin’dorei from the Horde, during the Battle for Azeroth, to assess its viability as a base to be reestablished, but both found the effects of the mana bomb to still be prominent. Furthermore, the crater left behind was not exactly good ground to build upon.

This evening, however, it was Brugni and his youthful human charges visiting the ruins, landing from the ship that had arrived from Menethil Harbor via rowboat. The trio skirted around the crater, setting off due west, leaving the ruins behind them and disappearing quickly into the swamp.

Brugni chuckled to himself as the girly-girl lass slapped herself continually, squeaking from time to time as she scratched away at her porcelain skin. If she kept this up, she wasn’t going to look very pretty for some time.

“Eep!” the lass squeaked again, looking around anxiously as she scratched left arm with her right hand. “Erm… I-Ian? Erm… Remind me again why we have to do this without any help? This sounds really scary…”

“We’re Fresh Meat, in case you haven’t forgotten, Nat.” replied the heavily plated young paladin with the odd spiky bits over his shoulders, grinning over at the green-garbed lass. “Sure, the rest of the gang is there for us, but how about we show some initiative and take the fight to this witch ourselves? That's why I got us leave granted from Lady Kat to come over here and take care of this.”

“O-okay,” replied the lass, not looking entirely sure of all this still, scratching the back of her neck under her hair and frowning at the lad hardly scratching himself at all. She fell silent for a time, ducking low on the saddle of her dreadsteed.

Brugni shuddered at that. The felflame-engulfed dreadsteed, with all its spikes and glowing green eyes, as well the ghostly red mount of the paladin, had been summoned in… unnatural ways. He shook the thought off. The two were strange, no doubt, but they were clearly not here to assault him, so he focused on the coin he was going to earn from this instead and held his peace from astride his simple black ram.

The ruins were soon lost to sight behind the trio, giving way to a road that dipped in and out of smelly, tepid water that bustled with yet another host of insects. Water beetles and water spiders, midges and mosquitoes, things that skittered and flew and hopped, all made the little pools their whole world while the road dipped through and around them. The thick forest of trees, which really made the land a swamp rather than a marsh, closed in around them, trees with twisted roots and stunted branches and drooping greenery that was really closer to brown than green.

The sky darkened as they made their way further in, causing the lad to fall silent and the lass to look even more anxious. The pair had bantered and chattered along merrily at first, but as the first star came out, silence fell between the two, and now all that could be heard was the ceaseless racket of the swamp’s insects. Frogs and bullfrogs sang songs of their own intermittently. The flutter of bats interrupted the chatter of the insects from time to time, as did the occasional call from a night bird or a swamp cat. Brugni began to regret his decision to come out here at night, but that’s what he was being paid for…

“Erm… Ian?” the lass spoke up after a time. “Wh-what is it this witch did, exactly?”

“Didn’t you see the Wanted poster?” the lad replied simply. “Kidnapping, mostly. Evading arrest. Suspected mass murderer.”

“A-and we wanna go see such a person… why, exactly?”

“To prove ourselves to Lady Kat and the Right Hand. Besides, I’m a witch hunter. This is what I do, so don’t worry about a thing.”

Brugni watched the cocky lad grin assurance at the lass, who looked only slightly better as she returned to staring around the swamp – what bit they could see at dusk – with her odd purple eyes.

“It’s more than that, lad,” the Dwarf chimed in. “First, she somehow abducted a caravan of humans taking supplies out west to Fort Triumph in the Southern Barrens. No one ever saw or heard from them again. The investigating soldiers that went to go look for them also disappeared. And after that, two platoons of foot soldiers went in on search and rescue for both those groups, and them lot also disappeared! Nothing has been seen or heard from any of those groups since they set off from the Ruins. But, at night, if ye stand back at the ruins, ye can hear distant screams and wails of agony and terror and misery. I’m telling ye both, ye’ve got yer work cut out for ye.”

Brugni smiled a small, satisfied smile as he watched the effect he had on the pair. The young lass paled quite a bit, and even the young paladin looked a bit grim as they trudged on in silence. The bubbling of water and the lapping of miniature waves against the edges of the pools their path wound through joined in the wildlife’s night song. The air cooled somewhat as more stars came out, but grew no less humid, and the endless assault of flying insects continued relentlessly. More bats came out to feast, but they still left behind an endless number of irritating bugs. The smell of stagnant water, methane, and decay grew prominent, and the swamp quickly became a place of general misery.

Adding fear to the misery seemed to make the place far worse. The trio, Brugni included, were each looking about warily, trusting their mounts to pick a good route while they waited for something to leap out at them.

Suddenly, the lass, Natasha, gasped.

“Did you hear that?!” she exclaimed, looking around wildly.

“Hear what?” inquired Ian seriously.

“Screaming! Crying! Someone’s in trouble!” Natasha replied quickly, appearing to be on the verge of tears.

“I don’t hear anything…” Ian replied, looking around warily.

“Lass,” said Brugni. “Don’t go making matters worse with your wild imagination. Just settle down now.”

“O-okay...” said Natasha, still appearing to be on the verge of tears. “I’ll try not to let my imagin- OH! Did you hear THAT?!”

“Lass, I’m telling ye-“ Brugni started, before being cut off by Ian.

“Quiet, both of you!” ordered Ian. “I hear it too… It’s… a woman, she’s… singing…”

Natasha quieted, but her face was contorted, on the verge of tears. Her purple eyes, however, glowed, as did an enormous black diamond that adorned her hand. She tensed, and Brugni could feel the dark power radiating from her, even as frightened as she seemed. It nauseated him slightly, but the power of the Light radiating from Ian alleviated it. The two were clearly ready to do battle on the spot.

“Oi, ye both sure that ye-- Oh, by Magni’s bronze beard!” he suddenly exclaimed, listening closely.

(( The Song of the Dustwallow Witch ))

Come all ye mortals, I’ll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come all ye mortals, the time’s come to play

Here in my garden, of shadows

Follow, sweet children, I’ll show thee the way

Through all the pain and the sorrows

Weep not, poor mortals, for life is this way

Murdering beauty and passions

Hush now, dear children, it must be this way

To weary of life and deceptions

Rest now, my children, for soon we’ll away

Into the calm and the quiet

Come all ye children, I’ll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come now, three children, the time’s come to play

Here in my garden, of shadows

“Oooooh, mercy…” Brugni rasped. The voice echoed eerily throughout the swamp, sounding as clear as it would if the singer was right next to them. The ghostly woman’s alto tones were gorgeous, and would easily have made any singer in any tavern drop their head in shame and seek their night’s meal elsewhere.

“I-I-Iannn…” sputtered Nat, a few tears now streaming as she looked around for the source of the voice, more pale than Brugni would have thought possible for a living person. Both her hands were now veiled in shadow, as though she wore a magic black diamond ring on all ten fingers. A shadowbolt was ready to be cast.

“Nat, this is what I do!” replied Ian confidently. “Hope this b*tch likes blessed metal.”

“Aye, well… we… we turn off here…” Brugni managed, pointing off to a dirt path that went directly north. “Then it’s a bit filthier, through mud and whatnot, and then east eventually, it’s—“

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!”

The three nearly leaped out of their mounts at the sounds of a man’s sudden blood-curdling scream, and Nat’s scream was drowned out by its intensity. Then, from every direction at once, the echo of a ghostly-sounding woman’s playful laugh bombarded their ears.

Dwarf, man, and woman, mounts magic and plain

Join in our time, of revelry

Three little children, come into my home

Drink from the cup, of gladness

“F*cking LIGHT!” breathed Ian, drawing his steel.

“She… she knows we’re here!” Nat said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Aye,” nodded Brugni. “Game’s up. Ye still wanna continue? Think the gold’s worth yer lives?”

“We’re Cheshire Cats,” Ian replied coolly. “We don’t turn tail just because some b*tch serenades us.”

Nat nodded her agreement, looking determined through her wet face.

Brugni looked half impressed, half disappointed at the response he was given. Heaving a sigh, he put on his own grim face, gazing down at the ground to find the dry patches of the far less visible path from here. He picked his way due north, gazing up at occasionally visible stars to navigate, but focusing mostly on picking out the path. For once, Ian went behind the Dwarf, wisdom taking over pride as he allowed the Dwarf to save the party from falling into a mudhole and sinking to their deaths.

The singing had stopped by this point, and the only sounds were, once again, insects, frogs, bullfrogs, and the odd calling bird or yowling wildcat. The wildlife sounds were joined on occasion by the hooves of the dreadsteed and the Dwarf’s ram. The party made its slow, painstaking way northward, slogging through shallow water and mud as often as they crossed dry land, though, due to the Dwarf’s guidance, it was never deeper than a foot or so, with dry land underneath. All was peaceful, though the night’s wildlife seemed to be thriving. All was quiet.

“WHAT?! No…NO… NOOOOOAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!”

The party cringed as a woman’s shriek rent the air and was suddenly cut off, and Ian’s face hardened as the ghostly-sounding woman’s playful, happy laughter rang out from all around them once again.

“Faster, Dwarf,” he demanded.

“Unless ye wanna drown in mud, lad, this is the speed we need tae take,” responded Brugni curtly. “Ye cannae save them lot if yer dead in a puddle, ye ken?”

Ian huffed in irritation, though Nat stared at the terrain below her dreadsteed’s hooves with trepidation.

“Ian, I… this is scary…” Nat said.

“Nat,” Ian replied, turning in his saddle to look at her and jerk a meaty thumb to his barrel chest. “Witch hunter. Meatshield. Remember? I’ll protect you two, and those we find alive. Be sure of it. Now put your game face on. You’re a Cheshire Cat.”

“O-okay…” Nat nodded, looking a little reassured, but still mostly terrified. Her hands still glowed with shadow magic, her shadowbolt ready to cast at a moment’s notice. Her eyes glowed enough to illuminate her pale, wet, soft face with dark purple light. She looked down at her tabard, smiling grimly, then looked back up. It seemed to reinforce Ian’s reassurances with its bold, grinning skull.

Seek now my homestead, join in with our game

Dwarf with your beard of granite

Come man of the Light, woman of shadow

Allow me to shed your mortal coils

Give me your hands now, I’ll lead you away

Through the swampland to my home

Follow the will o’ th’ wisps to my game

I’ll drain you of all grief and sadness

Come now, sweet children, I’ll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come now, my children, the time’s come to play

Here in my garden of magic

“Oi!” barked Brugni. “Do NOT follow the will o’ th’ wisps! Them dancing lights will lead you right into quicksand or crocolisks if they don’t lead you right into one of her traps!”

As if on cue, a pumpkin-orange light glimmered in the distance up ahead. It danced and shimmered, faded and returned, leading off the path to the right, where the quicksand was they had been trying to avoid, northeast of the ruins of Theramore. Brugni immediately looked away, barking at Ian and Nat to look anywhere but at the hypnotic wisp.

They ventured on.

The night sounds of the swamp went uninterrupted for some time, as though nothing at all had ever happened. The eerie silence pervaded the area, and nothing seemed to be afoot anymore. The start-stop-start-stop pattern of activity had the party completely on edge.

They ventured on.

A light appeared directly ahead, off in the distance. A pumpkin-orange light it was, and it grew larger as it approached.

“Oh, sh*te,” breathed Brugni. “Hide! Ignore it! Don’t watch it!”

“F*ck that,” snorted Ian. “We’re not stopping. We continue on.”

Nat looked hesitant, but resolute nonetheless. She nodded at Ian once, and continued on.

“Ye gotta stop NOW!” demanded the Dwarf, pulling his beard and looked agitated. “Get offa the road, both of ye!”

“We ride on,” repeated Ian.

“Bugger…” Brugni halted. He reined his ram around, galloping back several yards and dismounting to hide behind a bit of undergrowth alongside another shallow-looking pool of stagnant water and drawing an irked glare from Ian. The two humans stopped, wanting to continue, yet not daring to do so and wander straight into a death pit of mud.

The will o’ th’ wisp continued its approach, soon reaching the mounted humans. To Brugni’s intense surprise, both of them gasped in surprise, looking immensely relieved and pleased. Both dismounted and saluted the wisp sharply, then began talking at once.

“Lady Kat!” exclaimed Ian, his baritone mingling oddly with Nat’s alto. “How did you find us?”

“How did you find us?!” exclaimed Nat at the same time, almost dancing for joy. “What are you even doing here?!

“Yes, that’s right, we took a contract here,” said Ian.

“A contract. A wanted poster,” said Nat at the same time.

“Oh really?” asked Ian, an eyebrow raised. “And how do you know the paths better than our guide? I didn’t know you knew this area. Lead on, then, fearless leader. The Dwarf already chickened out and left us.”

“You do?!” Nat said at the same time. “That’s so great! I’m so glad you’re here! Where is this pretty house you found for us? Are there flowers? But… never mind that; how did you escape the Maw? Torghast?! Did you find Tomlin?! Oh, Sun of my life, it’s so great to see you!”

The two kept talking at the same time, and the more time it went on, the more it seemed to Grugni that the two believed they were each talking to a different person. The wisp silently bobbed and danced in place. Then, both said precisely the same thing at precisely the same time.

“Right, let’s go!”

Brugni cried out an alarm, darting quickly from his hiding place and sprinting toward the pair of humans – they were turning to the right, to the east, off the path and right toward the quicksand pits!

Reaching them just on time, he tackled the lass into the lad, flooring them both and knocking the wind out of all three of them. The humans flew into a rage, and meaty fist and dainty fist flew at his bearded face repeatedly.

“OI! Gerroff! OUCH! GERROFF ME!” Brugni bellowed, wriggling away from the punches and retreating some distance. “What d’ye think yer doing?! I just saved yer lives!”

The humans seemed to snap out of it then, looking down and realizing they were nearly knee-deep in fetid mud. They looked around quickly next, heads swiveling this way and that in a blur that shook their hair around their faces.

“Where’s Lady Kat?!” Ian wanted to know.

“Celeste? Celeste! Where are you?!” cried Nat.

“Shut yer geggies, ye numpty bampots!” ordered Brugni angrily. “Ye wanna scream tae the entire swamp exactly where we be?! And stop looking fer yer friends; they were never there! Ye were talking to another one of them wisps!”

The two visibly deflated at that, realizing the truth. Neither Celeste nor Lady Kat could possibly have come to find them, not occupied as they likely were, and as far off the main road as the party was. Slogging out of the mud and back onto the path, the two looked utterly downtrodden, the wind taken entirely out of their sails.

“AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHH NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The party’s heads collectively jerked up and looked further north, from where another woman’s scream came. Again, the happy, playful laughter of the ghostly-sounding woman echoed all around them. Wasting no time, the trio returned to their mounts, riding north in the absence of the wisp.

Brugni led the way once more, picking his way carefully from the increasingly soggy path. Eventually, a light flickered up ahead, one that looked natural, as though from a lamp. This was clearly not another wisp.

Found you my homestead, come in for some tea

Rest your weary souls at my hearth

Join us in our fun, the time’s come to play

I’ll separate skin, from body

Come now, you children, I’ll take thee away

Join you to my new family

Shed old attachments, come behold my face

I’ll rid you of blood, flesh, bone and breath

“F*ck that!” bellowed Ian, his face set, his expression stern as he looked ahead to a second light that glowed next to the first, this one seeming to illuminate a square patch, as though coming from inside a window.

“Stop! STOP! NO! PLEASE! STO—AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGH!”

Another man’s scream rent the air, and was cut off suddenly. The lights vanished at the same time, and what seemed likely to be the witch’s hovel disappeared with it. Brugni continued ahead as the swamp returned to its normal night sounds once more.

“Do you… Light… do you… feel that…?” breathed Ian.

Nat nodded, saying nothing, but paling even more than before. Brugni didn’t answer, but he felt it too. A deep fear, one that nearly paralyzed the heart and mind, was taking hold of him. Every step he took caused him to feel a quiet panic that made him want to turn and flee at full gallop, and if he fell into a sinkhole, that was fine – it would surely be a better fate than what awaited him if he continued on. He glanced back at the humans. The woman, and even the man, were hunched low in their saddles, grimacing deeply and grinding their teeth, forcing their eyes to stay open, forcing themselves to stay the course. They ventured on, the quiet fear deepening with every passing moment.

It happened so fast.

The swamp exploded into action all around them. The undead corpses of many races burst from the mud on all sides, charging at the three without warning. Nat let loose the shadowbolt she had at the ready, dissolving a human male corpse that got too close too quickly and was reaching to grab her out of the saddle. Ian leaped from his ghostly red horse, immediately laying about on all sides of him with his mace and his shield, profanities nearly rivaling those of Lady Kat issuing steadily from his mouth as he waded through wave after wave of advancing undeath. Brugni bellowed in terror as his ram reined up, dropping him from the saddle to the path. The undead seemed to ignore him for the time being, going for the fighters, the lass with her shadowbolts and demonbolts flying in every direction, the lad with his paladin spells and melee swings sending corpses flying. Light and shadow glowed brilliantly from the lad and the lass as they fought. The paladin muttered prayers and profanity alike. The warlock incanted in some strange, otherworldly tongue continually. The corpses remained silent, but for the wet, slimy sounds of their muddy feet sprinting continually at the pair of fighters.

“Ian!” shrieked Nat. “I can’t open any portals! Something’s blocking them!”

“F*ck!” bellowed Ian. “Keep casting!”

The young lass looked panicked as she reduced her incantations to only two spells, the ones that sent out the bolts of shadow and shadowy felfire. Brugni curled up into a ball on the path, getting trampled from time to time. The fight, meanwhile, seemed to be moving away from him. The two were being herded ahead, he saw, and somehow, the corpses seemed to be keeping them on the safe path…

“Sh*te! Stop! STOP! They’re herding you right to that witch’s house!”

The humans didn’t seem to hear him as they kept fighting. Fortunately for them, the numbers of the opposition were dropping rapidly. In another few minutes, Ian found himself face-to-face with a massive undead Draenei male, and Nat with what seemed to be the remains of a Kaldorei, though Brugni could only guess at the gender, given the advanced state of decay of the creature.

“Ticharamir!” she squeaked, a bolt of shadow bursting from her hands and taking her target full in the face, though it somehow seemed to absorb most of the magic.

“For the Cheshire Cats! For LADY KAT!” roared Ian, leaping toward the Draenei. The much larger corpse took blow after blow from Ian, the sound of heavy, blunt objects smashing flesh filling the air as the beefy young man beat the Draenei corpse with mace and shield. The unfeeling creature, however, reached out massive arms to grab Ian, lifting him into the air and throwing him several feet. Ian crashed into a tree, falling to a heap on the ground. Shaking his coppery head, he rose to his feet, charging his target again.

Nat repeated her spell over and over, driving the Kaldorei back. Once she had it at a distance, she began incanting rapidly, working up another demonbolt.

“Naztheros, zila golad lek ashke te daz!

A horrific blast of brilliant green and impossible black flashed into being, shot forward like a bullet, and was gone in the blink of an eye, smashing into the Kaldorei corpse and obliterating it.

Ian, meanwhile, had sprinted back to his Draenei foe and was leaping into the air, bringing down his mace with a sickening overhead smash that broke the undead’s head like a melon. The massive corpse fell like a puppet with its strings cut. The two looked around quickly, not spying any more enemies.

Brugni felt the fear that pervaded the area still, and he remained where he was, some distance back, still curled into a ball. As he watched, the two relaxed, though they still looked tense, as though they felt the almost palpable sensation of terror as much as he did. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out; he felt utterly unwilling to say anything that would give away his position away from the two fighters. To his shame, he maintained his silence, too terrified to do anything but hide.

As he watched, the paladin stood up straight, relaxing from his battle stance. The young man looked around, and Brugni knew he was being searched for.

“Nat, where did the Dwarf go?” he asked. “Did you see?”

“N-no…” she shook her head. “I-I hope those undead didn’t get him…”

“We’ve got to look for him,” Ian said. “But how? We can’t leave this spot without risking a sinkhole.”

Before Nat could respond, the ghostly, playful laughter rang out from all around them once more.

“Ooooh, poor humans, lost in the swamp,” the alluring voice purred playfully from everywhere and nowhere. “Don’t worry; I’ll lead you to my home.”

At that, a woman suddenly appeared in a flash of white light further down the path. She was absolutely stunning; there was no flaw to be found on her. She was a porcelain doll, it seemed, with pale skin and a face sculpted around high cheekbones, silky-smooth, soft cheeks, and a strong, yet slender jaw. Piercing blue eyes could be spotted even in this light, and her brilliantly blonde hair fell thick and bouncy down her long back to her waist. She was tall, slender, and long-legged, with round hips that rolled as she walked and a heavy pair of breasts that rolled with them. Clad all in translucent white that didn’t do much to protect her modesty, she smiled with even whiter teeth from behind full, gorgeous red lips.

As she approached the humans, Brugni watched them go tense. The charm magic didn’t seem to be working on them; perhaps they had other romantic interests in whom their care outweighed and defeated the charm and the illusion? Brugni had heard of such things. For his part, he was just glad he wasn’t catching a blast of it himself.

“Sorry, lady,” grinned Ian. “But you’re not fooling us. There’s a bounty on your twisted head, and we fully intend to collect it.”

Nat looked grim as she stared the woman right in the eyes. “That’s right. You’ve hurt enough people. You’re coming with us!”

The beautiful woman froze in her tracks, her facial expression going from playful to angry in an instant. Her mouth opened, and, even from here, Brugni could tell she had opened it several times wider than any ordinary human could.

Then, she screamed.

“RRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The scream was devastating. The humans cringed away, holding their hands over their ears, and Brugni did the same from his spot on the ground. The branches of the trees swayed ominously, and one snapped off, directly over the lass’s head. It connected with a nasty-sounding crunch, and she dropped where she stood.

“Nat!” cried Ian, turning to check on her. Before he could, however, the beautiful woman transformed into a streak of bone-white light, darting forward over Nat’s unconscious form, then streaking back in the direction the lamp and window light was spotted before.

When the streaking light faded, Natasha Ebonlocke was gone.

“Nat! NAT!” Ian cried, turning wildly on the spot and calling for his friend.

It was the push Brugni needed. Intensely embarrassed, but feeling fearful for the abducted young lass, he scrambled to his feet and darted forward to the panicked paladin.

“Och!” he exclaimed, waving his arms as he approached. “We got tae go af’er her!”

“Where the f*ck were you?!” Ian demanded, whirling to face the reappearing Dwarf, then immediately shook his head. “Nevermind that – how do we go after her?”

“Looked like she got taken back tae them lights we saw earlier,” the Dwarf replied. “Them lights what looked like a house and whatnot. Follow me!”

The Dwarf mounted his ram, the paladin his ghostly red charger. The two picked their way forward again, moving quickly but carefully across the treacherous swampland. The feeling of terror compounded with every step, but the two were resolute. Not only was there a group of people waiting to be rescued, but now one of them was a friend. Little by little, bit by bit, the guide and the paladin crept past stagnant water, insects, frogs, the occasional snake, and air so warm and humid it was nearly drinkable. The swamp, yet again, was quiet but for the creatures that inhabited it.

“RRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAH!”

The devastating scream returned, and with it the white streak. Ian whipped around as Brugni dove for the dirt, mace and shield at the ready, but the white streak was already gone. Silence took over once more, the only sounds being that of the swamp’s night life yet again. Crickets made music with whining mosquitoes. The occasional flap of a bat after the plentiful prey interrupted the noise on brief occasion. The sound of a splash as a fish or a frog broke the surface of one of the pools could be heard several feet into the swamp. Overhead, something huge and heavy slithered and hissed.

“REEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“The Light says F*CK YOU!” Ian roared, casting a Judgment spell in the form of a hammer of light where the witch was streaking from, but she was already gone, and the Judgement crashed loudly into a tree, reducing the trunk to splinters and toppling the foliage to the muddy waters beneath it. The splashing soon ceased, and all was silent again.

Ian and Brugni looked around, the paladin from his battle stance, and the Dwarf from his huddled position on the ground. The young paladin snarled his frustration at the empty silence of the swamp as he whipped around, eyes darting to and fro.

“The Light finds you worthy of redemption…” he began quietly.

“REEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“TOO BAD THE CHESHIRE CATS DON’T!” Ian finished, throwing his shield at the witch, but she was already gone again, the silence returned, the only sound that of the noisy crickets and the whining mosquitoes. The glowing shield careened off a few branches from trees around the area, breaking them to pieces before the shield returned to Ian’s grasp and ceased its glowing.

Ian stopped to steady his breathing. The stagnant water filled his nostrils, and the crickets and the mosquitoes noises seemed to be louder in the thunderous silence that drew on for some time. Brugni panted at length, trying to catch his breath from the nonstop terror of the night’s events. Ian continued steadying his breathing, preparing for the next attack as the silence drew on. A deep breath in, a deep breath out…

“REEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“FOR LADY KAT!” Ian roared, swinging his mace right through the streak. It didn’t seem to connect, and it certainly didn’t careen off the witch, moving right through her instead. His mace, though there was no sound of a crash, was ringing loudly as though it had, in fact, struck something. In the distance ahead, in the direction of the suspected witch’s house, there was a loud, prolonged, ghostly wailing. It wasn’t the wailing of a young woman; this one sounded far older than the form they’d seen the witch take, as though the woman was surpassing elderly. It would seem the witch was hurt.

Brugni bolted for his ram, mounting up once more. He picked his way through the swamp, Ian right behind him, looking both furious and worried at once. Bit by bit, though somewhat more quickly now, they forged their way ahead.

Uninterrupted this time, they reached their destination. An old house, falling apart, stood before them. The windows were boarded, but plank and glass both were broken in places. The door was on the ground in front of the house. A light flickered on as they approached, and they could see the house was covered in moss. The crumbling remains of a chimney went up the left side of the house, and it clearly vented the smoke of no fire now. The shingling was missing off of roughly two thirds of the roof, exposing gaping holes. The siding was peeling, and there was another hole in the front wall that a small animal might make it through if it jumped a couple feet into the air.

Brugni held position at the treeline, though he could see inside the house from his vantage point. Ian hurried forward as quietly as he could in his plate, darting to the house, ducking out side the door and easing his head around to peer inside.

Brugni could see the witch and the lass from here. The young human woman was spread-eagle on her back across a long, broad table, her summoning gear looking far less brilliantly green without her conscious to work her spells. The witch was doubled over, clutching her abdomen in both arms, wailing that ghostly wail of hers.

Brugni gasped when she stood up straight again, and Ian whipped out of sight, looking a little sick. The woman was trailing something white and green from between thin, dark brown lips heavily. Her face was ancient. It looked like it was made of old leather, wrinkled beyond the wrinkling of any prune. Her mouth was agape as the viscous liquid dripped from her mouth, displaying all of three small, brown teeth. She didn’t seem to have a tongue. Her brown, mottled head had maybe two dozen thick, coarse-looking snow-white hairs sprouting from it, nasty-looking lank hair that went just to her shoulders. Her sharp chin sported several small sprouts of white hairs as well. She seemed to be clothed in a muddy, decaying burlap robe.

The witch continued her pained wailing as she waddled slowly over to the young woman on the table, leaning over her, but unfortunately, her back was not to Ian. It was clear Ian would be spotted if he entered now. However, given what the witch did next, Ian had no choice.

She bent over Natasha’s unconscious form, removing her hands from her injured abdomen with visible effort. She cradled Nat’s head in her hands, gingerly, as a mother might take up her infant. Her hands came into view as she lifted Nat’s head, and they weren’t much prettier than her own head. Bony hands with inhumanly long fingers ended in long nails that resembled filthy talons. The skin was mottled and multiple hues of brown, and it draped off her bones like a curtain. The sight of those hands in Nat’s shimmering hair made them that much more grotesque by comparison.

The witch leaned in next, her lips approaching Nat’s. Brugni thought he might lose his supper as that nasty old mouth dripped its disgusting, viscous drool over Nat’s face, and her lips approached those of the young woman’s, However, the witch never touched the much younger flesh. Instead, she pursed her lips, then made a disgusting slurping sound as she inhaled, long and slow, over Nat’s mouth. The disgusting fluid whipped off Nat’s face and back into her mouth. Nat’s face blurred as the witch continued her long, disgusting slurping, her unconscious form unrecognizable for a moment as it appeared that something, some part of her, was being inhaled by the witch. When the witch stopped, Nat’s features returned to normal, but she was impossibly pale now. The witch panted for a moment, no longer appearing to be in pain, and then began the awful slurping again.

“STOP!” roared Ian, charging into the house. The witch didn’t look up, flicking her wrist toward Ian instead. Ian crashed into something invisible and fell over on his rear. He bolted back to his feet, moving forward, walking into some invisible barrier again. He beat on it with fists and mace and shield, but to no avail.

“STOP! NAT! WAKE UP! STOP, WITCH!”

The witch ignored the young man, taking a third deep breath with that horrid slurping. Nat’s lips were turning a ghastly purple now, and her skin was snow-white.

Ian ceased his fighting and knelt, his head in his hands. “Light… give me power… I can’t cross this barrier with simple strength… Grant me the power I need…”

Ian’s hands began glowing, though he didn’t move them from his head, nor move from his kneeling position.

“Light… please… a fellow Cat… it’s Nat… please… Celeste would never forgive me, nor would Lady Kat, nor any of the others… Grant me… the power…”

Ian’s power in the Light grew as the spell of Avenging Wrath flared even more brightly from his hands. He grinned, opening a pair of glowing golden eyes as long-feathered wings of pure Light sprouted from his back. Dropping mace and shield, he clenched his hands into fists. He roared loudly, slamming his Light-imbued fists forward into the invisible barrier with all his power and holding them there, driving them continually with all the strength he could muster.

A loud hissing answered back, the area around his fists glowing black where the Light was battling the shadow barrier. The witch panicked, working faster, not bothering to stop to catch her breath between sucking the life from Nat’s unconscious form. Nat’s breathing was slowing progressively.

Ian kept his fists to the barrier, his brilliant rays of golden Light nearly blinding Brugni as he tried to watch the struggle. The Light and the shadow battled on, expanding more and more, shimmering all over the barrier, which revealed itself as a dome covering the entire table and the two ensconced within.

“Rrrrrrgh… Light… d*mn… you… b*tch…” Ian managed, trembling and sweating profusely, his hair, already damp from the humidity, now completely lank with sweat. He tried to catch his breath as he worked, and the Light from his Avenging Wrath spell soon hid him entirely from view. His wings suddenly whipped out to their full eight-foot span, going rigid in place.

“F*CK… YOU… WITCH…”

The Light reached the floor and the ceiling almost at the same time, and the wood began to smolder, then smoke.

“Lad! Stop!” yelled Brugni from the trees just outside. “Yer setting the house on fire!”

Ian either didn’t hear the Dwarf, or ignored him, continuing to force his fists into the barrier. The Light expanded through the floor and ceiling next, lighting up the house like a beacon in the night. The wood burst into flame then, and the house was soon billowing smoke. The Light from Ian’s Avenging Wrath persisted.

“LET… HER… THE F*CK… GO!”

The witch and the lass were lost to Brugni’s sight now, though faint slurping sounds could still be heard despite the house being in flames. Smoke from the ceiling was obscuring everything. If Ian didn’t leave now, the house was going to go up completely in flames all around him.

“Rrrrrrrrrrgh… FOR… THE… CHESHIRE… CATS!”

~BOOM!~

The house exploded suddenly, planks and shingles and burning bits of debris flying in every direction. Brugni darted behind the tree to avoid the flying debris, but the shockwave sent him face-first into the mud. Coughing and spluttering, he darted back to his feet and peered around the tree again, his ears ringing, blocking out all other sound. His heart dropped at what he saw.

Nothing was left of the house. In its place was a massive pile cloud of dust and ash. Everything there was obliterated. The feeling of terror was gone… but so was the house, and everything and everyone in it.

Gone… destroyed… dead…

Brugni dropped back into the mud on the seat of his pants, bursting into tears. He cried his broken heart out at the loss of the young man and the young woman, whom he had only just gotten to know. He wailed at the loss of all those others unfortunate enough to have been abducted by the witch. Tears streamed into his beard as he mourned the loss of so many lives, even if he hadn’t known most of them all that well. He tore at his beard, his heart in tatters, staring at the scene of absolute decimation in front of him, cursing the fates for this doom through his tears.

CRACK.

Brugni gasped, leaping to his feet at the sound of something snapping in two from within the cloud, raising his fists. If the witch was coming for him next, well, she might kill him dead, but he’d do his best to take her with him.

A silhouette materialized within the cloud of dust and ash, though it didn’t look like the witch. Indeed, it didn’t look like anything that made any sense at all. The shape was more of a drooping cross, and it staggered and swayed wildly. Brugni gasped as the figure emerged from the cloud.

Cillian McEoyn strode from the cloud, holding the unconscious young woman draped across his arms and holding his breath. When he made it out of the dust and ash, he sucked in a deep breath, then immediately burst into a coughing fit.

“LAD!” exclaimed the Dwarf. “YE MADE IT! YER ALIVE! And the lass… is she… is she…”

Nat coughed too, groaning in agony, though it was hard to say if she was conscious or not. For certain, though, she was alive. Ian dropped to a knee, unable to make it much further, gently laying her on the ground before dropping to all fours next to her, launching into another coughing fit as he retched over the mud.

From behind him, many more coughs were heard. A small crowd of people emerged, mostly humans, but with a few Dwarves, Gnomes, Kaldorei, and one Draenei woman mixed in. Each stepped several feet away from the cloud that was slowly settling over the remains of the destroyed house before dropping to their knees or to all fours as well, their coughing fits drowning out the swamp life around them.

Brugni looked on in awe at the scene. The witch was nowhere in evidence. The people around him were recovering from their coughing. Ian was the first one back to his feet. Nat still lay in the mud, unmoving, but clearly breathing, her eyes closed, blood matting the hair on the back of her head where the heavy tree branch had struck her.

“Lad… how…?” Brugni asked, his red, bloodshot eyes wide as he looked around in wonder.

Ian recovered his breath, his face filthy and smeared in soot and sweat as he grinned down at the Dwarf. “Don’t tell me you never heard of a little prayer called the Blessing of Protection…”

“And that is all, is it?” demanded Satlaeth the Quel’dorei, fists on his hips, his blonde brow furrowed. “Just three of you, and you walked right up to the witch’s house, blew it up, and led all the captives back?”

“Aye!” replied Brugni Stonebeard, bowing theatrically. “That’s how it happened! Don’t believe me? Ask any of them lot down in the bunks what got rescued. Or better yet, ask ye the lad and lass themselves!”

Brugni pointed toward a far corner, where a weary-looking young man and woman sat. The young woman was resting her ebon-haired head on the table, looking refreshed in a clean black shirt with a red, cracked grinning skull embroidered on its front and back, and black pants with an additional pair of skulls embroidered at the hips. The young man, clothed in just a matching tabard, dark pants, and heavy boots, had his feet up on the next table over, long legs stretched out as he reclined with a tall tankard of something frothy in his meaty right hand. He grinned, shaking out his long, coppery hair, rubbing his scruffy face with his left hand, producing a faint scratching noise as he basked in the sudden attention with a cocky grin on his face.

“Yeah, that was how it happened. Every word is true. Your Dwarf buddy over there, and my concussed friend over here, the three of us went in and put foot to *ss in the name of Lady Kat.”

“But who IS Lady Kat?” Satlaeth wanted to know next, looking irritated at his own curiosity. “And who are you, even?”

“Who is Lady Kat?” Ian snorted. “I'd tell you all about that incredible woman, but you wouldn't believe a word of it. And who are we? Well, this is Natasha Ebonlocke, and I’m Cillian McEoyn. And don’t forget this next name as long as you live…”

“Hail Cheshire Cats…” the young woman said weakly from the tabletop with a smile, earning an approving smile and nod from Ian.

“…We’re Cheshire Cats.”

(( Giving credit where it's due: The first time the song appears, that was written by someone else though I made a couple of very minor changes to fit the scene. I haven't at ALL been able to figure out by whom, however. The mystery is adding to its mystique, to be perfectly frank. I did find this little gem, which gives some insight into one person's investigation into the original author, but that's as far as I've gotten. The rest of the lyrics, besides where I've repeated the original lyrics a bit, are my own (this explains why they're nowhere near as good!). I hope you guys enjoyed this story! And thank you, Ian, for letting me borrow your character for this and put him through the mill for a while! Hehe ))

[Cillian]

[Cillian]

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[۞ KAT ۞ AKA Red Viper]

((Absolutely wonderful. You have such a rich talent for writing. ))

(( Awwww hahaha thanks! :3 ))