Thread: Witchfinder's Tale (BG & RM)

The village was quite busy this morning, the market obviously attracted people from outlying areas as well as the locals. Fresh produce from local farms, vegetables, fruits, even wines from the few vineyards able to grow decent grapes on the slopes of the Grey Mountains. There were woven fabrics, the odd tapestry, rustic looking necklaces and charms made from beads, twine and wood. Everything one would expect from a backward village in the middle of nowhere. The people were exactly what hed expected too. Rustic, backward looking farmers, uneducated peasants, simpletons and the occasional borderline mutant. In all honesty the whole village could be raised to the ground and it would be no loss to the Empire. He would consider it a days work well done and not look back with an ounce of sympathy, but then his real target would likely escape and go on practicing her vile hedge magics unhindered and more places would be corrupted by her taint. No. Unfortunately hed have to wait a little longer before he could serve the Emperors justice, suffer this place a little longer and root out the vile she-devil himself before bringing her back for a public trial and execution so the great unwashed masses of the Empire could see what a real witch looked like and how she would burn for her sins. He'd set his stall out, mainly common herbs with some of the salves and ointments he'd made from them. Some were foul smelling concoctions for treating cuts and burns, while others were to clear the airways and aid breathing when one was afflicted by a heavy cold. Others still were the type of plant that were used by magic users for more complex spells or rituals, the type that would be unrecognised by charlatans or regular folk, only those that practiced the forbidden arts. These herbs would draw in his quarry, either by the simple fact they would recognise them or that they would attempt to take them from him in some way - openly or by thievery. One way or the other he would find his prey today - so long as they were still here of course. A few people came to his stall, but they gave no sign of being his target, though one was so ugly they could have been considered a mutant He'd just been bent over one of his chests when there was a swish of red cloth and as he stood, he was greeted by a petite young woman smiling up at him. She had long, curly blonde hair piled on the top of her head, fair, unblemished skin and white teeth - quite remarkably beautiful for this village. She carried a basket full of apples in one hand as she loitered by his stall. Her appearance was striking, but it was her words that captured his attention. It is a little early for those herbs dear girl, even one such as myself - a herbwarden of some repute in my homeland - would be hard pressed to obtain them in this season. He replied quietly, but with a friendly smile on his face. He watched her face intently as he spoke, noting the sparkle of her eyes, though strangely unable to determine their colour. He dropped his own voice to a whisper, I may, however, be able to accommodate your needs. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Jean-Alexandre Dumont. Before we discuss this any further, we should make sure we are far from potentially unfriendly eyes and ears.. There are those that would look badly upon us if we were caught trading in such items. His voice is conspirational and slightly admonishing as if she would get them both tried as wtiches. What say we discuss this in more detail later after the market has ended I have a room at the inn, we will have some privacy, away from prying eyes and ears? His suggestion was business-like, delivered with no undertones, no hidden meaning.