“Are you sure it’s going to be here?” Greg asked.
The mink prince was clad in a lightweight chainmail, hidden under a thin silk robe. On his face was a look of ignorant confidence as he stared at the cottage in front of him. .
At his side, Jeff the polar bear bodyguard loomed hugely over the much smaller mink in his armored butler suit. Unlike his master, worry was plain to see on the polar bear’s scarred face. They were well equipped to deal with physical threats, but the hag was a powerful caster – and a significant unknown.
“Yes, my liege.” Geoffrey pulled out a piece of parchment and read from it. “Lost annie…aminil… amina-”
“Animal,” Gregory corrected.
“Right.” Geoffrey frowned and carefully read the rest out loud slowly in order to not make mistakes, “Uh, then it says: Please. See me. At. My home. Buncha numbers. Side-sidewaws-”
“Sideways,” Charlie offered.
”Sideways… Duh…dry…Drive!” Geoffrey grinned, pleased with himself for figuring it out all on his own. “P.S. No Dogs, and…what’s this stuff?” He paused and showed the paper to Gregory.
“That’s an exclamation mark. PS, No Dogs exclamation, exclamation, exclamation.” Gregory replied. “But good job Geoffrey!”
“Thank you, my liege.” The polar bear blushed heavily.
“Is that all?” Charlie asked.
“Heh, guess she doesn’t like you Charles.” Geoffrey grinned dumbly at the wolf.
“Really? Too bad.” Charlie smiled and pulled out the barely legible scrawls Jeff had written. “Though I can’t say she’s wrong about her worries. Thanks to your knowledge and what I’ve managed to glean, we know a few things.”
“What’s that?” Jeff asked, his voice deep.
“She hates light, targets cats, and is vengeful.” Charlie replied. “She won’t stop hunting a target that evades her. Which is why we definitely need to kill her. Everyone remember the plan?”
Gregory and Geoffrey nodded.
Charlie smiled and clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let’s get this done.”
They continued down the road to the outskirts of town, right at the edge of the woods where they had last met the hag.
Her hut was there, smoke trailing from the chimney and the windows glowing a pale orange-yellow of candle light. It was a two-story affair made of old brick, the shingles chips of dry wood and the chimney a large thing that stuck out a bit crookedly from the top of the roof.
Carefully, they set up elements of their plan.
It had taken the last bits of change in Geoffrey and Gregory’s pockets to properly prepare. Of course, sitting in Charlie’s pocket was a currency that could guarantee success, but his Coin was worth far more than the handful of potions and other temporary buffs that they had needed.
Plus, in Charlie’s estimation, they could get a level up just by taking the hag out. Going broke to undue a curse was one thing. Getting a level up in a game that was all about that shit? Totally worth it.
He also figured the hag must have good loot. Charlie had started noticing patterns in Finn’s DMing mindset. While rules as written, a hag would be far beyond what they could currently handle, her weakness to sunlight was Finn’s invention. Clearly, he intended for them to use it against her. At least Charlie hoped that was the case, and this wasn’t all just an elaborate ruse on Finn’s part to trick them into biting off more than they could chew.
Circling around the property, Charlie twirled a grappling hook and tossed it, catching the edge of the chimney with a loud clang. At the same time, Gregory and Geoffrey knocked on the door, perfectly timed to cover up any sounds Charlie made. He started climbing, hearing their voices raising to cover up his scrabbling.
When he reached the top of the roof, he walked over to the chimney and tossed down a package made out of mud and wet leaves (mud and wet leaves were free, after all). Smoke from the stack decreased noticeably. Below, he heard coughing and hacking as the fireplace began spreading smoke into the hut. Just as planned.
He pulled on a plague-doctor’s mask and crept down the roof to take out the hag in a surprise attack when she walked out into the lawn.
Instead of finding the boys battling it out with the hag in her herb garden, however, he heard screams and crashes and hissing. The roof below him began to waver, growing insubstantial. Charlie panicked, realizing that she was teleporting her hut to safety.
With a running leap, he vaulted up into the chimney and down the shaft just as the hut vanished from the material plane, leaving nothing behind except the old, worn-down outhouse that the building had possessed.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
While Charlie had been climbing the roof, Gregory and Geoffrey were walking up to the door, following the lovely stone path that led through an herb garden.
Geoffrey pounded on the old oaken door with a gnarled fist.
"One moment dearie," an old female voice called out from the other side of the door. There was a loud scraping sound of a chair sliding back, followed by the knocking of a cane and shuffling of feet. The door opened just a crack.
“Yes? How may this old maid help you?” An elderly black cat squinted at the two of them.
“I’m Prince Gregory and this is my manservant, Geoffrey.” Gregory drew himself up. “We were told of an ancient crone who knew of the dark paths.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” The cat said, though her eyes had grown inquisitive. “There’s no ancient crone here, just Sweet Alice.”
“Sweet Alice?” Geoffrey rumbled.
“That’s me.” The cat said pointedly, then turned to Gregory. “Not much going on up in that head of his, is there?”
“I didn’t hire him for his brains.” Prince Gregory smiled.
“No, “I suppose not,” the old cat eyed the polar bear as Gregory noticed the tip of a tongue run along her upper lip in anticipation.
“That’s not happening.”
“Oh? I was only thinking of the nice tea I had prepared for any wayward guests who happened to find themselves at my home today.”
“We also know you are quite dangerous.” Geoffrey said gruffly.
“I won’t go into your lair alone.” Gregory shrugged apologetically. “I tend to listen to my bodyguard.”
“Hmmm… I was hoping to speak with you alone…” she said as she eyed the pair up.
“But if you insist…” She motioned for them both to come in with her cane and together they entered her house.
Her living room was oddly homely. An expensive looking green couch and two red chairs sat around a brick fireplace. Numerous tapestries and fine dishes lined the walls. Something delicious smelled like it was cooking in the kitchen a few rooms over. Gregory and Geoffrey took a seat on the couch as the old woman went over and stoked the flames of the fire.
“Would you two boys like anything? I make an excellent soup.” Sweet Alice asked.
“You made a soup out of yourself?” Geoffrey said confused.
“Uh… no sweetheart.” Sweet Alice smiled gently and patted the big bear’s paw. “Sweet Alice was just using a turn of phrase.”
“Oh. I like soup.” Geoffrey grinned.
“I’ll get you a BIG bowl, how does that sound?” Sweet Alice’s eyes glittered.
“Sounds good.” Geoffrey said happily.
"It smells good, doesn't it sweetie," the cat asked as she fished out a bowl and ladled a bit of soup into it.
Geoffrey sniffed it cautiously before a wide grin stole over his scarred muzzle. “Yeah!”
“And how about you, your highness?” Sweet Alice asked, poised to pour another bowl.
Prince Gregory licked his lips, the smell of the soup nigh irresistible, but shook his head. “I know better than to eat anything.”
“It’s not poisoned, I swear!” Sweet Alice crossed her heart.
Geoffrey raised the spoon to his lips and Prince Gregory batted it out of his hands.
“Enough!”
“I was just going to taste it to make sure it wasn’t poisoned!” Geoffrey protested.
“You always find an excuse to put things in your mouth, don’t you?” Gregory snarled.
The old cat smiled at the exchange. She got up and placed two jugs beneath the arguing couple. Then she went back and threw a few more logs on the fire. The living room grew even more cozy as an oaken incense filled it.
Gregory and Geoffrey seemed to relax, their arguments petering out. They began stripping each other right there on the couch, moaning at every touch. Soon, Geoffrey’s fat log of a cock bobbed in the air next to the mink’s pink taper. They made out, and only paused when they heard a polite cough.
“Oh, don’t mind me. Please, enjoy yourselves.” Sweet Alice’s yellow eyes twinkled. “You’re quite the cute couple, I must say.”
“B-but we didn’t eat the soup!” Geoffrey’s eye was wide.
“It wasn’t the soup,” Gregory moaned. “It’s the incense she put in the fire!”
Sweet Alice stood, tossing her cane aside, as a growing shadow loomed large and demonic on the wall behind her.
“That’s right~” The hag’s voice warbled into the daemonic. “Thank you for disarming yourselves. Now, please turn to my jugs-”
“No.” Geoffrey said flatly.
“Yeah, I agree. No.” Gregory replied.
“What?!” Sweet Alice’s yellow eyes narrowed. “How?”
“Lied about the smell.” Geoffrey pointed to his nose, which, when the cat inspected it closer, was plugged with wax.
“I’m a Prince, what good would I be if my will could be bent by some trollop living in a shack?” Prince Gregory snorted. “But I do like that incense. Can I get the recipe?”
“Sure.” Sweet Alice rolled her eyes. “But then you know that I brought you in here-”
“To steal our essence. I know.” Gregory rolled his eyes impatiently as he shrugged his armor back on. “I’m here to buy.”
“I don’t need gold.” Sweet Alice spat. “What can you offer me, Prince Without A Throne?”
“Power. No more putting up Lost Animal ads.” Gregory leaned towards the cat, watching Geoffrey finish clothing himself out of the corner of his eye. “And maybe my bodyguard.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.” Sweet Alice smiled. “And he’s a bit scuffed for my tastes. You on the other hand-”
“Madam, please, let’s not talk nonsense.” Gregory began, “My bodyguard doesn’t just have cake, he has the whole bakery back there. Now, if you’d like to discuss price points-”
A thump came from the fireplace as the smell of smoke suddenly increased. The room beyond the cat was begging to fill with a wispy haze. She coughed and waved the air away with a paw.
“My goodness! Did the flue close?” Sweet Alice turned her head in brief confusion.
“Now!” Gregory snapped.
Geoffrey leaped and tackled the hag.
She struggled in his grasp, hissing and spitting and flailing her incredibly long, sharp claws at his face. A few drew blood, though the bodyguard didn’t even flinch. He began hauling her towards the door. It was the most dreaded situation a caster could find herself in: A grapple by a martial artist.
“You tricked me!” The old cat hissed, her body beginning to warp, growing larger in the polar bear’s grasp, her voice growing deeper. “I SHALL EAT YOUR SOULS!”
“Drag her into the sun before she regains her true form!” Gregory shouted.
Prince Gregory drew his thin Ruby Rapier and jabbed the hag in the stomach. Black blood dripped from the wound and onto the floor, where it hissed and bubbled. Again and again, making a pin cushion of the cat’s abdomen.
Muscles popped and fur bunched, two small horns curling from the sides of the cat’s head. The Night hag was soon the same height as the bear, perhaps a foot taller.
Unable to drag her expanding body any closer to the door, Geoffrey spied a nearby window and, with a massive heave, managed to smash the hag’s head through to the outside.
The hag screamed, her hair igniting, flesh boiling in the light of the midday sun. With a toss of her arms, the polar bear went flying smashing into the couch and flipping over it. Gregory steeled himself as the hag ran at him, claws extended.
Gregory sketched a rune in the air with the tip of his sword and fire shot at the hag. She batted it away and clawed at his throat. Gregory dodged and rolled, his quick, mustelid reflexes pulling his neck back just in time for the hag’s claws to rake past it.
“Plan B!” Gregory shouted, hoping the wolf above them could hear.
“Who are you yelling to?” The hag snarled before snapping her fingers. “Do you have friends outside? Look again.”
The forest and herb garden outside wavered. Gregory realized she was teleporting the hut back to her domain, wherever that was. He heard a thump on the roof and then a thud from the chimney. Sweet Alice glanced up and grinned, sharp teeth glistening in the firelight.
“He won’t get here in time.” The hag said.
“You’ve just trapped yourself in here with us!” Gregory spat. “Fool!”
“I’m the fool? You’re trapped in here with me!” Sweet Alice cackled, descending on the two lovers.
Geoffrey scooped up the mink and ran for a door, slamming through it and barreling down a strangely long hallway. Behind them, the hag advanced, running her claws along the walls, making an eerie screeching noise. They were in her world now.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--
The sky above Charlie had disappeared. The square patch of blue sky became a misty shroud of empty night. He panted, paws clinging to a few bricks that weren’t placed properly, using them as hand and paw holds.
Strangely, the chimney seemed larger from the inside. The further he descended, the more obvious that became. He expected to be deposited in the living room, but instead, he dropped down into a maze of brick hallways, covered in soot and spiderwebs.
Around him, hallways branched off in all directions. It was strange, he thought he could see some that dead-ended and others grow to small for anything to possibly fit through. Shrugging, he decided to sniff for Geoffrey or Gregory’s scent trails. He snorted and sneezed, hacking up black soot.
He rubbed his nose, but it was to no avail. The inside of the chimney had been caked in soot. Soot that now covered his body and, more importantly given his present predicament, impregnated his sinuses. He couldn’t smell anything and it was burrowed so deep inside of him that he couldn’t get it out.
Unsure of where to go, he wandered down a hallway. Up ahead, he thought he saw a shadow dart into one of the side rooms and crept stealthily after it, walking into the room. As he did, the door closed behind him, leaving the wolf completely in the dark.