Private Tales Whittling in the Wood.

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"On the contrary; my mind feels clearer than it has been in a while." He muttered, as he walked away from the tree.

"I'm thirsty." He stated, with a serious tone. He felt dehydrated, but oddly rejuvenated.
 
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The witch walked towards the woodland once more, leaving the cursed three after it. One might wonder if it's gift was even a boon at all. »You still have to pay your part of the deal. Come, my home is not far from here, I'll brew some tea.«
 
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"As you wish." He picked himself up properly, placing the staff he had collected onto his back along with his other one, and began to walk next to the Witch, closer than he had before.

"So, what is my end of the Bargain?"
 
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»Why would you forget so quickly? Well that tree must've done a number on you. It's weeding my garden« Sue Slowly began to walk towards her small homestead through thick woods and animal-treaded paths. »And? What did you see,«
 
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"Of course. How could i forget." He said, coldly. It was odd, it was the first time in a while he didn't stutter. He couldn't even remember a time he didn't. Strange.

What did you see?

He wasn't sure he wanted to answer that question. He'd never told anyone his past, especially her. He wasn't going to start now.

"My mistakes." He murmured, equally as cold.

"Have you ever sat by the tree?"
 
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"If it's so bad for you, why let me sit under it?" He asked. It raised a good point, why did he sit under it if she told him some people don't return from the vision? Perhaps because he didn't listen

Perhaps he had nothing left to lose.
 
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"I asked for a tool to weave my art with. Not..." He paused, the memories still gave him shivers all over his body.

"Not that. I didn't ask to see any of what i saw."
 
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He thought about what she said, and took the staff off of his back to observe it as they walked. Strange, it had changed quite substantially from the time he had first grasped it; the blue cracks in between now formed strange symbols and shapes across it's heft, stood against the chalk white of the wood. Stranger still, the head of the staff had formed a circular shape, most likely to harbour some sort of crystal.

"Ornate is a good word for it. I hope it does it's job well."
 
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"Indeed. Do we near your home? I grow thirstier."

Another thing he'd noticed, the voices in his head had grown silent. Usually, the never-ending cacophony of sound haunted him every day, but the voices hadn't made themselves known. He still wasn't sure what road that tree has sent him down, but he's liking the silence.
 
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The witch chuckled, but said nothing. That was apparent enough that the forest that opned before them was her own.
Usually most came through her front yard, but this time around the backside of her house was shown. The folliage here was covered in thick plants but still the floor is covered in cirular runes drawn in colourful chalk which resonated with magic.
At the end of the lay a flat altar which was currently empty. Finally the baskside of the house was seen.
It was pretty horrible in appearance. the location of windows was arbitrary and it was hard to guess just how many floors there were to it.
 
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It was clear to him now where they were. It looked like the home of a Witch of Wizard; strangely placed, with odd choices for furniture and windows. The altar floor was covered in round runes, very similar to those he had seen before, with small alterations or nuances.

"Strange place to make a home."
 
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»A secluded place is best.« The witch would open the back door and nod to let him in.
the inside of the house had a low, crosshatched ceiling, from it hung poppets, fetishes and various talismans. Some violently rumbled as Maho came antered. The witch would tilt her head slightly.

»Have you heard of this? Hell is made of other people.«
 
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As he entered, the lowness of the Ceiling was evident, as several small talismans knocked into his head, bouncing off of it. Several of the oddities that hung from the ceiling began to violently shudder and shake as he entered, and it was almost as if they were looking at him, knowing what he'd done.

"I'm well aware." He stated, slyly.

"Anywhere i can sit?"
 
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Before the witch could say anaything, the stove that helf a fire in the corer roared high. »ASUEGO, WHO IS THIS, WHY YOU BRING HIM FROM THE BACK DOOR TOO... WELL NEVERMIND.«

»YOU CAN SIT WHEREVER YOU WANT PUNNY HUMAN, THE FLOOR THE BENCH THE TABLES. BUT I WOULD STAY AWAY FROM THE OTHER TABLE.«
 
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Sparhawk was shocked by the fire in the corner, which was seemingly screaming at them both, talking to the Witch. He'd seen spirits caught in similar situations before, but never as a fire. It seemed curious that she'd keep something like that here.

"Why is the Fire talking to me?"
 
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»MY NAME... IS ARDOMMA,« the demon spoke with a donning voice. »THE GRANDEST, MOST POWERFUL DEMON OF THE FIREPITS.«
In them ean time the witch meandered towards her rocking chair, sitting down and the cat jumping on her lap. A brief respite came as needed.
»Ardomma is my stove demon, Ardomma can't hurt you. what tea flavour would you want?.«
 
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"... I don't suppose you have Elderflower tea? It's my favourite." He spoke, earnestly.

That fire was, as before, odd. A demon of the firepits? Didn't know there was a pantheon of gods for the firepits. He'd have to write that in his journal for further research.
 
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The witch patted the cat off. The creature scuttling off onto a table before ending up on a higher shelf.
»Elderflower? Yes. Ardomma, heat up some water.« Her voice was a little strained as she stood up, picking up some herbs from her shelf before walking over and setting a kettle over her demon.
In the mean time she wrapped up the herbs in a small cloth mesh.
 
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"This place is... surprisingly nice. For a witch's hut, i mean." He said, honestly.

He was genuinely surprised, in his mind, he'd always thought a witch's hut would be a tiny, dirty, sludgy, messy... well, mess. But no, this was a warm, cosy home, albeit with a few hanging artefacts and wards, but not much.

"You invite many Sorcerers into your home? Or am I the first?"
 
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Ardomma heated up the kettle of water so it sizzled at constant rate. By the time, Susan finished with the wrapping and reached for a green and brown glazed earthware teapot. She slowly pured the water into the pot and added the cloth mesh with dried elderberry leaves.

»Well, I am awfully humbled by your words. But I think my house could use extra hands in tidying up.« Asuego didn't seem at all humbled in her tone.
 
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