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Witching Hour

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The Witch of the Wilds appreciated her dread servant. He was loyal albeit begrudgingly, followed her commands well enough without much complaint. His uses were many and he took her taunts and jeering in stride but he was not her favorite.

Her favorite was her pet.

One that she unleashed often when she found that a less inconspicuous approach was needed, her dread servant was excellent at what he did but he was neither as theatrical or vicious as her pet was.

The witch adored her, how those who crossed her would cower in fear before her pet. Perhaps it was wrong to favor her, to be involved with her the way she was, but the Witch had never been a careful person.

Her pet was a pretty little thing that managed to find her way into her neck of the wilds. Everyone in Adlersbrunn knew of her, they all knew to stay away lest they incur her wrath. Over the years the stories grew of her exploits. From the way her dread servant hunted those who had tried to double cross her to those foolish or perhaps brave enough to make a deal to those who merely had the misfortune of crossing her path at night.

She had been intrigued to see someone who had dared trespass into her wilds, since did they not know the stories of the Witch of the Wilds? Or were they simply unafraid of the consequences?

She least expected to see a drider; a creature only born from dark curses placed on poor unfortunate souls. The drider itself was pretty though, beautiful even, despite her transformation. Long black hair, pale blue skin, and piercing yellow eyes that stared down at her. The arachnid portion of her body that of a black widow; large chitinous black legs and a red hourglass mark on her abdomen.

The Witch revealed her presence to the unsuspecting drider as she did to other travelers who came before her. “Look at what we have here, a drider of all creatures. Skittering scattering about in my wilds, have you come to seek me out?” she drawled anticipating what sort of reaction she might provoke.

If the drider was surprised she did not show it, she seemed almost happy even, “The Witch of the Wilds, I had so hoped to find you.”

"Did you?" the Witch was intrigued. It was not often that those would come to seek her services, everyone knew her magic came with a price.

"Yes, I did not venture out here in the dark for nothing," the drider replied and the Witch chuckled. Such a confident thing. The Witch was impressed. She loved when those who sought her out didn’t simply tremble in fear before her; it made things more enjoyable.

"What is it then?" the Witch asked curiously. "A cure for your condition, I suppose? It will be easy but not without a price as I’m sure you know."

"No, not a cure."

"No?" the Witch was surprised, even more intrigued at what such a creature could want. What else could she possibly be asking for?

The drider grinned down at the Witch and the Witch, in all her years, now knew exactly what she wanted.

"Revenge ."