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Witches vs Warlocks

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||...Hell is empty...and all the Devils are here...|| Link to OoC Thread ||


| Prelude |


According to legend, long ago, the goddess Hecate wished for creatures that could share in her magical abilities. It is said that she wished for children that could perform her many tricks and spells, privileged creatures that would thrive among the other mortals and cherish the knowledge she shared with them. Hecate pondered over these beings over the following days, letting her imagination run wild. There would be two, she thought, a female witch and a male warlock from each of the chosen family lines. Hecate worked in secret for many days and nights, planning and perfecting every last detail, until finally she was ready. She brought forth from her own body a part of her own magical power, a brilliant orb of energy that she housed in the center of her temple. She created guards who would protect the magic at all times, and it was from this swirling source of power, known as the Heart of Hecate, that the totems were created.


With her own hand, Hecate collected several stones, each different and unique, and filled them with some of the magical power from the Heart. Every witch or warlock would have full control of the magic stored inside and each one would bring a different set of abilities. These would be her children's source of power. When every stone was filled and each one given a beautiful design, Hecate presented them to the families she had previously selected. From that day on, the witches and warlocks lived in harmony, changing and shaping cultures with their charms and abilities. Hecate watched her children with pride, happy to see them thriving and prospering in the world. All was well, until 12 years ago, when everything started to change.


It was the warlocks that rebelled, casting aside the worship of their goddess in pursuit of more power. Their minds became more clouded and their hearts corrupted by their greed. They wanted the world to know them, for the mortals to cower at the sight of them. The witches tried to reason with them in fear that Hecate would punish them all, but try as they might, they were not heard. To save themselves, the witches separated themselves from the warlocks, sticking to the old ways and trying once more to blend in with the world. The warlocks, not about to lose half of Hecate's magical powers, hunted the witches. This has been happening for nearly a decade, with the witches' numbers beginning to dwindle. They must find a way to stop the warlocks...or it will be the end of them.


| Setting |

Oldenridge 1587

|X| Oldenridge is a large town west of London that lies along the River Thames. Oldenridge is a commoner's city, filled with merchants and those of humdrum crafts such as blacksmithing, baking, inn keeping and thieving. The largest building in Oldenridge is the Governor’s palace, an impenetrable stone fortress that sits at the northern most part of the town. There are ale houses, inns, merchant shops and carts, a church and even a prison, where criminals are held and tried. There is no electricity or running water and the town’s light is given off by gas lamps. The town of Oldenridge is most famous for housing the largest concentration of witches in all of London… at least in rumor because no town would ever admit that a quarter of its population was, in fact, witches.


The Rich Man’s Village: The northern part of Oldenridge, where the better off folk reside. The nobles, lords, governor’s palace, and the general rich reside here. The houses are lavish and large, filled with servants, and it is where the best parties are held.


Knight’s Square: You’ll not only find the knights here but the merchants and guardsmen as well. The gentlemen and gentlewomen also live here. It is not uncommon to find a powerful or influential witching family living here, though they would do so in secret.


The Common Place: The middle class of Oldenridge, where you’d find the workers. They’re the craftsmen, the bakers and the blacksmiths, the inn keepers or shop owners and the ones that keep Oldenridge running. The market is here, nearly all of the shops, and also the town's darkest blemish: the gallows.


The Slums: the Southern most part of Oldenridge, nearest the River Thames, where the poorest of the townspeople live. It’s here you’d find the unemployed, the thieves and murderers, and the sick or disabled. Travelers also tend to live here, among the shacks and crumbling buildings.


Witch’s Alley: A witch's safe place that is used for those who must be inactive for long periods of time. It's located somewhere between The Slums and The Common Place, filled with apothecaries and small shops where a witch can buy any ingredients they may need for a potion.


London: The center of Elizabethan England and the city closest to Oldenridge. London is the center of trade, fashion, art and the warlock's central dwelling. The city is constantly singing with the noises of life, from horses' hooves on cobblestones to the yells of traders and scuffling apprentices. The narrow, cobbled streets are slippery, lined with houses on either side and are sometimes a constant danger to those foreign to the city. The River Thames cuts directly through the city.


Stones Alley: The counterpart to Witch's Alley. A warlock's safe place that can be used for those who will be inactive for long periods of time. It's a narrow alley that runs parallel to the River Thames, behind a row of pubs and small trade shops. A warlock may come here to trade information or seek refuge.


A Very Helpful Guide to Money


| Helpful Things to Know |


The Plot:

The witches thought they had escaped the warlocks in Oldenridge, but they were wrong. The warlocks have found them and, among the humble streets of this English town, a war is brewing. This will be the final showdown. All the fighting, the killing and the betrayal will end here. The warlocks have come and they're not leaving without every totem in Oldenridge. However, the warlocks are not the only danger lurking on the horizon. A mysterious, new member has thrown themselves into this war and they're determined to kill not only the witches... but the warlocks as well. It is here that I leave you with one piece of advice:


Keep your eyes open and travel cautiously, for danger is around every corner.


What is a Witch?

A witch's abilities are strictly element based: earth, wind, fire, water. A witch's power also extends to the human soul and some have been known to master control of it. A witch who practices soul magic can typically gain influence over another's soul, perhaps making them follow commands or do things they normally would not. They can change a person, turning them good or evil, or even cause them intense pain. Soul witches are somewhat rare and extremely dangerous but not without their limits. Unless the witch is well-practiced, they can be thwarted by another's strong will. Control of plants, changes in weather [this includes the ability to manipulate lightning], and earth or heat manipulation are some examples of abilities that witches may have. Witches, unlike warlocks, are still in tune with nature and the world around them. They can, for instance, view snippets of the past by tapping into the 'souls' of the trees around them. They can hear whispers in the wind or predict the future in patterns of vines or the knots in trees. Many witches also brew potions, of all variety depending on what their family might specialize in, and most all can cast spells. Each witch also has a spell book but many newer generation witches have chosen to memorize their spells instead.


*Character powers are up to user interpretation as long as they follow the guidelines outlined here*


What is a Warlock?

A warlock's abilities are more “supernatural” based: sound/time manipulation, magnetism, radiation and energy manipulation. Energy includes: energy beams, lasers, blasts or even manipulation of solid energy (ex: making a sword out of energy). Warlocks have distanced themselves, in a way, from the original elemental practices of the witches. They no longer follow any of the rituals or make tribute to Hecate. They've become their own rulers, their own gods, and shun anything related to the witches' way-save, of course, for their power. Warlocks are unable to charm or cast spells, as the old ways have in turn rejected them. Where a witch may use the trees around her to view the past, a warlock cannot. Warlocks have been known to capture and hold witches, rather than killing them straight off, for reasons such as healing or potion needs. Warlock powers are also up to User interpretation as long as they are in guidelines.


What is a Totem?

A Totem is a witch or warlock’s source of power. Essentially, it is everything. The center of a person's totem is the stone, which stores the magical energy taken from the Heart of Hecate. Sometimes they'll change in order to better suit the personality or abilities of the current user, but this is not always the case. Totems are handed down through families, the witch's always going to a female and the warlock's always going to a male. The person who inherits the totem is chosen by the current holder from among all new generation prospects. The child with the most promise inherits the totem. Examples of a totem's appearance range from a simple, wire-wrapped stone to an elaborate gold pendant with the stone set in the center.


A note on totems: Witches and warlocks are not immortal, they age the same as normal humans but most tend to have a slightly longer lifespan. The family totems are normally handed down when the receiving witch or warlock comes of age at sixteen. A receiving child can be chosen before they come of age, as the promise of magical ability will present itself earlier on, but they cannot begin practicing until they are old enough.


UPDATE: When in close contact, the two family totems will react with one another. They respond to the familiar magic inside the other totem, which can either be a pleasant or painful sensation for the holder. Sensations, or symptoms, can range from a feeling of euphoria to a burning heaviness against the skin. This reaction only occurs between family totems.


| Rules |


> Follow all standard DCF rules. This is a must.


> I am your supreme ruler. What I say goes and I expect the rules to be followed. I won't be a dictator but I do have expectations. New Note: Darkshadow is my new co-ruler. His word translate as law and I ask that you do as he asks. He will be reviewing sheets, moderating posts and giving any critique he sees fit. ^^


> This RP is Semi-Lit to Literate. You should all know what this means by now, so I’m not going to explain. Please just keep in mind the quality level of your writing. I do require at least 7 sentences per post.


> Let’s try and keep things PG-13. I am fine with mild swearing but, please, do not be excessive or extremely vulgar. Romance is accepted as long as it is kept in bounds.


> Please be respectful and treat everyone else how you would like to be treated.


> RP etiquette is your best friend and that includes, but is not limited to, the following: no god-modding, power-playing, auto-hitting, etc. Should you break this rule, you may be asked to edit your post and, if you are, please do so without argument.


> This rule applies to characters! I will not accept Mary-Sues or Gary-Stus. I also will not accept their counterparts, the anti-Mary and Gary. All I ask is for well-rounded, dynamic characters. I respect your creative rights but please try to keep things believable. Also, try to keep your character’s reactions to things realistic.


> I am now accepting character sheets! If you wish to submit one, please PM it to me or Darkshadow! Thank you!


> “Out of Character” comments should be appropriately marked or put into the OoC thread.


> If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me. I’m not all that bad and I will do anything I can to help you. I want this to be fun and enjoyable, so don’t be afraid ^^


| Character Sheet |


It is my recommendation that you make a character for both sides [witch and warlock] so we can keep things even amongst the players.

Note: A sheet is not necessary and you may submit a paragraph introduction instead. Either way, it needs to be sent to me ^^


Since I don't want to stifle anyone's creativity, I'm opening a character sheet for non-magical people. Be it a human, a gentlewoman, or a knight or guard, it's completely up to you! I hope you all agree with this decision.


Witches and Warlocks:

Character Name: [First and last name required]
Age: [ideally between 18-40. I think that's an acceptable range.]
Description: [Pictures are completely acceptable but I do ask for a 5-6 sentence written description as well. Also, please try to keep the time period in mind!]
Personality: [You don't have to be extremely detailed, as this will present itself in the RP but please give us an idea of who your character is]
History: [Again, you don't have to be extremely detailed, as I'm only asking for the relevant details, but it's up to you]
Totem: [Can be anything you want but it must involve a stone in some way. Please include who your character inherited their totem from here as well]
Abilities: [Can be anything as long as it fits the few boundaries I have set. Be creative here!]
Other: [Anything you want to add]
Chosen font and color: [If you plan on using a certain font and color, put that here]


Non-magical People:

Character Name:
Age: [no age limit]
Status: [ex: Middle-class merchant, pub owner or store owner]
Chosen font and color:

Edited by crypticsoul

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|| Accepted Characters ||



Abigale Jane Pendry & Hunter Dane Pendry



Laura Jane McLean & Matthew James McLean



Mercy Holyfield & Odin Dis Pater



Runi Stillskin



Holly Black & James 'Jay' Hemlock



Felice Leticia Bennett & Blacwin Thierry Lovell



Nicholas Alexander Penn V



Elloise Fweent



Mirabelle Elizabeth Chandel



Felicity Mayburn & Nathaniel Conrad



Adrienne Liela Vardamir

Edited by crypticsoul

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Deleted my critique posts. PM a mod for a full wipe. =)

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My time tonight will be short for I fear that they will find us soon. An old witch came to me this morning and, though I would like to cast aside her warning, there is a sickness in my gut that I cannot shake. The air is thick and I find it hard to breathe but the worst part is the waiting. I cannot stand this waiting, for it drives me mad, but even it does not compare to what I know is coming. They will come with the sunset. They always do. I can only pray that Hunter is not among them. I would not be able to fight against him, I know I would not, despite how he deserves any harm I could inflict upon him. The pain of his betrayal is still fresh, like a blade to my skin, but there is naught I can do to heal it. I shall not say it out loud but I miss him and I should like one day to be reunited with him. If only this damned war would end! They need only to open their eyes! They need only to see that It only needs to stop. Juliana lost her totem to them two nights ago and we are blessed that she did not lose her life as well. She returned to us in such a horrible state and many of her injuries are still unhealed. I know not what else to do for her but bring her to Oldenridge. I pray that there they will….

- an unfinished entry from the diary of Abigale Jane Pendry. It is dated 4/22/1584.



I have written and rewritten this a thousand times but the words never sound right. There is so much I need to tell you, so much I need to explain, but there is something that hinders me. I know I swore I would be forever at you side but you do not understand the influence that I‘m under. The pressures that I face, Abby! If we were to return the Heart to it‘s whole form we could change the world! Why can‘t you see that? Why do you so refuse to work with me? We could do so much together. Abigale, my dearest sister, I miss you. I think often of our times together, back in our childhood home, and I wish things were still that simple. The world is changing, Abby, and I fear that we must change with it or risk being left behind. We’ll disappear into the past, just as our ancestors, and no one will ever know our name. I cannot let that happen, Abby. I will not let us fade away. Talk to me. I wish that you would talk to me, I would meet you anywhere. I need to see you but I know you will not come. The trust that you once placed in me, the bond of siblings that we once shared, is broken and beyond repair. I need not hear it from your mouth to know it. You will run because they, because I, hunt you just like the others. Keep running, Abby, but always know that I can find you.

Hunter Dane

- an unsent letter from Hunter Dane Pendry to one Abigale Jane Pendry. It is dated 7/3/1586.



”You’re gonna catch the plague runnin' 'round like that, Abby Jane!" an elderly woman shouted from where she stood brushing the dusting of snow from her doorstep.


"I've got my coat, Hattie! Don't you worry that old heart of yours!" the young woman hollered back before rounding the corner that led out of Witch's Alley and into The Common Place. She pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders, the cold already bringing a rosy tint to her cheeks. Her mousy brown hair is knotted in a messy chignon at the base of her neck but a few wispy curls have escaped the band to fall into her face. This is Abigale Jane Pendry, a witch and refugee here in Oldenridge, and her day has just begun. Abigale scanned the crowd, searching for any unfamiliar or threatening face, but could find none. She sighed in relief and adjusted her course, heading now for the very center of Oldenridge. They met there every morning, any witch who needed to speak to her, for it was safer than compromising Witch's Alley.


"Bread for ye this morning, Abby Jane?" a voice stopped her and Abigale turned, finding the face of the little baker boy who greeted her every morning. She smiled and dug around in her skirts for her change purse, knowing she could never tell him no.


"Alright, a few biscuits for breakfast will do." she answered and the boy beamed at her before picking out three, golden brown biscuits for her to buy. She handed him four pence and took the biscuits, laughing as he ran off to sell more.


"Thank ye much, Abby Jane!" he called back over his shoulder and then he was lost to the crowd. Abigale tucked the extra biscuits into her bag, keeping one out to eat, before continuing on her walk. She glanced up at the sky, finding it cloudy and grey, and the chilled wind sent a shiver down her spine. She glanced over her shoulder suddenly, certain she had felt eyes on her, but brushed it off as paranoia. She was so overly cautious these days, jumpy and regarding everyone with suspicion but it was not entirely her fault. A warlock could attack at any time and Abigale knew well how skilled they were at hiding. If one found you...


She shook the thoughts from her head and approached the well that marked the center of the town. No one yet, so Abigale pushed herself up to sit atop the worn stones, taking the time to eat her breakfast. Her eyes snapped up, searching the shadowed corners and alleyways. Again, she had felt eyes on her but could see no one among the faces who was watching her. Oh, come off it, Abby, she told herself, returning to her breakfast. It was here she waited, for any who may come.



Miles away, in the backstreets of the bustling city of London, a young man made his way through the cobbled alleys. His boots scraped along the stones as he walked, long coat billowing out behind him, a thick-brimmed hat hiding his features. The smell from the Thames bombarded his nose but it was nothing compared to the stench that lingered in the alley that was his destination. Stone's Alley was not known for it's beauty, as the buildings were covered in dirt and grim, but rather for it's inhabitants. The warlocks.


The man continued on past the trade shops, that were just opening up, to the pubs that were closing for the day. One in particular held his interest but it would not have been given a second glance by anyone else. Into it's old, wooden door a raven was carved, a sign to any warlock that this was a place of safety-but more importantly, of knowledge. The door creaked on it's hinges as he pushed it open, stepping inside and out of the chilled air. The smell of ale and smoke greeted him.


"Hunter!" a gruff, old voice called from behind the counter and the man looked up. "There's a few of ye already over there. Been keepin' waitin', ya have."


"They'll be alright." the man, Hunter, answered before heading toward a group of men to his left. He took his seat and removed his hat, resting it atop his knee, before looking at the faces of the men gathered there. "Morning, gentlemen, should we get started?"


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“You have a lot of nerve showing up so late Hunter,” Odin commented in a dangerously calm voice. He played with his cane as he sat, rolling its polished head round and around in his palm with one hand, while the other rested lightly on his folded knee.


He was trying to touch as little as possible in the dirty bar, even the air was dark and Odin worried that if he sat there for much longer he was going to catch some kind of illness. He hadn't even ordered a drink from the bar when he entered, this got him a sour look from the bar keeper, but he wasn't going to drink out of a dirty cup just to make friends. He was here for business.


“You wanted to meet, so we came. This better be damned important.”




Mercy grumbled darkly as she moved through her tiny living room/bedroom/kitchen, dodging the feet of three of her students and that blasted cat one of them insisted on taking everywhere before settling into her favourite (and only) chair and grabbing a book from the near by stack.


Her students today were Christi who had lost her mother and inherited her totem on the same day nearly a year ago. Emily whose pompous (non-witch) aunt forced her to meet with Mercy as often as possible, this made Emily resentful and uncooperative and Mercy was on the verge of telling her to stick her flashy blue totem and her fancy Knight’s Square house up her arse and getting the hell out her life. Tink was Mercy's secret favourite (despite the cat), she was only 14 and had no known witch relative, but Mercy saw a lot of Hecate's potential in her.


“You know Mercy, you should really move, get a bigger place, or at least some more chairs!” Emily exclaimed, “I mean its bad enough having to walk to the slums, but having nowhere to sit when I get here is just too much!”

“Shut up Emily,” Mercy said without looking up from her book.

“I mean, you're supposedly a well respected witch and everything! Get a nicer place!"

"Shut up Emily."

"And anyway, whats she doing here?” Emily pointed to Tink, “she's not even a witch!”

“Emily if you don't shut up you're going to be spending the rest of the day underground again. Is that what you want?” Mercy growled, snapping her book shut with a thunk.


Emily shut up, head full of awful memory's of the last time Mercy had made the ground swallow her.

“And call me Ms Holyfield girl.”


“Ms Holyfield,” Tink piped up, “why am I here? I'm not related to a witch, so I'll never get a totem... not that I don't want to be here! I love learning about magic!”

“You're here because you have Hectates potential, magic isn't only about your totem, its something you're born with, besides you probably have a witch ansestor in your blood somewhere. And please, call me Mercy”

“That's not fair! How come she gets to call you Mercy!” Emily shut up again when the ground beneath her gave an ominous rumble.


“Right, today you're going to recite to me the history of Hectate.”

The three students groaned in unison.

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Holly Black looked over longingly at her 'man clothes', which was what she callled them. It was so tempting to just put them on and go to the town to have some fun. But no, there wasn't enough time. Holly was taking care of a litter of excited, frolicking kittens, plus with her 'job' as one of the serving girls in one of the more-friendly restaurants. The tips, along with the fare, always helped, especially with more mouths to feed. Those kittens ate like a pack of hungry wolves. Holly was wearing a simple, decent dress along with her serving apron she usually wore while serving. With no mother to scold her, it was a cinch doing whatever she wanted. The dress fell to her toes, which (thankfully) covered up the worn leather boots she was wearing. If asked, she would give a small excuse as to why she was wearing the boots. But right now, it was no problem. Holly swept the into a corner and into the dustpan. Opening a grimy window, Holly emptied the pan and shut it quickly. She could always use her powers, but she thought she would do more harm than good. Holly looked over to where the seven kittens were sleeping, all curled up next to their large, extremely fluffy tabby of a mother, who was also sleeping. Holly smiled, and then braided her hair loosely, though she usually just let it down. No warlock would dare attack her right now, since the day was just perfect for once in her life.

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Abigale hopped down from the well, satisfied that no one had needed her this morning. She usually wasn't the one waiting, so she should have known earlier but had waited just in case. Adjusting her skirts and pulling her hood up over her head (as the flurry of snow had gotten worse), she looked around before following the worn, cobbled path toward the shops. Though she'd been to many cities, she found that the stores here were among the best, especially the apothecaries. You could never find a decent one of those anymore, given the threat of the war and a warlock bursting in your door at any time. That little fact tended to keep many witches from opening their stores but it usually didn't stop the non-magical people. For that, Abigale was thankful.


"A drink for ye, missy?" a gruff, slurred voice asked her and Abigale twisted, walking backwards with easy grace. She shook her head, eyes searching the old man.


"Not today, sir. You know, you ought to get inside and warm up." she suggested, smiling a bit at him. Although Abigale was suspicious with everyone, men tended to rank high on her list. She couldn't trust them, not after what had happened, but she saw this particular old man enough times to know he wasn't dangerous. "Go on, get inside, Alfred!" she called over her shoulder before taking a quick right into a shadowed alley. She'd be just on the edge of Witch's Alley in a moment and that was where her destination lie. A small but well-stocked apothecary to which she was a regular customer.


"Mornin'!" a voice called out when she opened the door and she smiled, pulling the hood from her head.


"Good morning," she replied and dusted off her boots before going further inside. She inhaled the rich scent of herbs and burnt wood, closing her eyes briefly to savor the smell. She opened her eyes and looked around, spotting only a few other people. Abigale went straight for the herbs, mentally going over what needed replaced at home. "Hm, now I know I'm out of echinacae but what about sage..." she murmured to herself, scanning the shelves for the right things. She was instantly aware of the presence of another and cast a glance to her left, spotting a young man there.



"Have I ever called you here for nothing, Odin?" Hunter asked, eyes gliding over to the other man. Odin...he was one that both intrigued and put off Hunter, as the man had such an intimidating and strong presence. Hunter knew not to cross him but that didn't mean he never irritated him (though it was normally unintentional). "Take a look at this."


With that, he pulled form his breast pocket a folded piece of paper. Hunter laid it out before the other men, revealing a detailed, hand-drawn map. Along with pictures of cities, there were several notes scribbled onto the parchment. "See this, it's a town called Oldenridge," he started, pointing to a cluster of houses just west of London. "I've heard a lot of rumors about this place, that it houses a lot of witches and they've formed a sort of safe place there. Now, a few of my informants have been there and say that they can't find any trace of them but I think they've put a spell on the place. With that many in one area, it'd be easy to do. It's a traders town, so there's a lot of travel in and out, so it'd be easy for the witches to blend in and go unnoticed." he explained with a confident but quiet voice. No sense everyone overhearing them.


Hunter left out the bit of his sister possibly being there, as he kept that information to himself. He didn't want anyone else after her. The rest of them, however, were fair game. With so many in one place, this could be their biggest victory yet. Sure, they collected a few totems here and there but a haul like this would be something to celebrate. He paused and looked up at the others, waiting for them to weigh in before continuing.

Edited by crypticsoul

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Jay rummaged around in a nearby drawer, searching for the clippers. His father, the old geezer, had given him the task of clipping and bundling the herbs for the store's stock, since it would take a careful eye to correctly sort the herbs. One couldn't mix up the harmless foxglove with belladonna, no? And with his father's eyes, they would be killing their customers, not helping them. The bell to the store rang, and a young lady walked in. Jay had seen her from the window that led to the patch of garden where his family grew most of their stores. She had visited there often, and as far as he and his father could tell, she wasn't a witch, or anything of the sort.


"James, go and help our customer!" his father's voice rang.


His father was in the living quarters which was separated from the store because it was on the second floor. Jay stood up obeidiantly and dusted off his clothes. He was wearing long sleeves and gloves, along with a worn and slightly dattered dark brown vest. His hair was messy, like always, but there was nothing Jay could do about that. He walked from where he was sorting the herbs and went in front of the girl he had seen many times. "G'day, ma'am. My name is James. What would you like to see today? We have just restocked our supply of dandelion extract, as well as sage, foxglove, and rowan berries. Also, we have more selections this time."

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Startled, Abigale nearly dropped the bundle of herbs in her hand but she recovered quickly, laying a hand across her chest. It's just the shop owner's son, she told herself, nothing to be alarmed about. With her calm facade replaced, she turned fully to face the man.


"Oh good morning, James, I am Abigale Jane but just Abby will do. Actually, I'll need about a pound and a half of this echinacae. Some sage and peppermint, if you have it, would be good." she answered, smiling easily at him, her natural paranoia calmed when she sensed nothing malicious inside him. He was the perfect age, though, to be-no, no, she should not judge him, especially since he had no wronged her. "But if you have fresh rowan berries, I shall take some of those too." she added as an after though, figuring the stock probably needed refilled anyway.

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“Rain rain go away, come again some other day...” The little girl sat on a bench, her legs tucked up under her chin, sobbing. She had not been blessed by money, or even a voice Laura concluded as she heard the familiar tune, but looks was something she had plenty of. Not that many people could pull off ‘Drowned Rat’ but the little girl looked extremely cute, and would melt the coldest of hearts.


Taking a couple slow steps closer to the girl Laura considered changing the weather so it would be a little warmer for her. But that might give her away. Laura shook her head at herself, her long curls changing their position. Being outside at the moment was probably giving her away. Who in their right mind would be out in this weather? They would probably get some serious illness. That was something anyone with any status would know to avoid at any cost. But Laura wasn’t like that. Sure, she didn’t want to get sick, but she was not going to let something as petty as rain stop her from being outside. Laura loved the rain, not that that was a surprise, she loved all kind of weather.


“I think it’s working,” Laura said, kneeling down beside the girl. The snow from earlier had turned in to a slushy mixture, and the bottom of her dress would probably get soaked. Well, well. She did have something to change to at home. “Why don’t you try again?” The girl started singing again, and Laura willed the clouds to be replaced by sun. Slowly, discreetly, so no passing warlock would notice. Weather was unreliable, so if the change looked natural, no one would notice. That was the advantage of her ability. If she used it slowly enough, no one would even consider the fact that she was a witch. Unless they knew her. Or if she zapped them.


“It worked!” The little girl’s face lit up and she looked at Laura exited, “It worked!” Laura smiled. How couldn’t she? That adorable child deserved that much. “It did, didn’t it?” The young woman stood up, inwardly cursing the quick change. Any passing witch or warlock had probably noticed it and pieced the pieces together. Hopefully they would just assume the little girl had been showing magic at an unusualy young age. Though they probably didn't. The girl looked about six or seven, and no one had that much power before they even started school. No use crying over spilt milk though, so Laura continued walking in the direction she came from, enjoying the sun.

Edited by coralkiki

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“Oldenridge? But that's so close to here, surely the witches would want to be as far away from here and us as possible. Where did you hear these rumours? This better not be like the time Jon here sent us off to Wales because some old beggar in a bar had told him about a nest of witches living in the caves up there, Wales! Odin glared at Jon with such ferocity that the smaller man thought he was going to catch fire.


“You're never going to let that go are you?”

“No actually, I'm not,” and with that Odin dismissed the warlock and turned back to Hunter, leaving Jon to wallow in his seat. “I trust it was a reliable source you heard this from.”




Mercy had finished the lesson for the morning and had sent the girls home. She tugged on her necklace wondering if she could be bothered to make the trip to witches ally in the rain. She had just decided that she couldn't when the clouds suddenly cleared and weak winter sun shone down on the town.


Mercy rolled her eyes, Laura. That girl was too careless, she was going to attract the warlocks and give them all away. Growling to herself Mercy stood from her chair and moved it a foot to the left. She stood on the spot her chair had occupied and let her magic run though her and into the ground. The hard packed dirt floor began to churn like some massive mole was burrowing through her floor until a hardwood chest rose to the surface.


Stooping to pick it up, Mercy placed the chest on the table and opened it, the ground already returning to its hard packed state. She then moved the potions she had made that week from the chest into the small cloth bag she placed on her belt. With her many layers of shawls no one would be able to see the bulging bag, let alone guess its contents.


Mercy picked up her cane which she used when it was too cold... or too hot... or when there was a lot of people in the market which she wanted to hit out of the way, and left her tiny home. Her destination, witches ally, was not far from her home, but Mercy used her ability to remote track to find Laura first. She was not far away and she strode off to intercept her.


Reaching the right street, Mercy sat herself down on a low wall to wait. It was not long before Lauras bouncing curls came into view, despite the crowds of people who were now flooding the streets because the rain had stopped.

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"If it's such a problem, I could go and investigate," Nicholas offered, walking up the other Warlocks. "Sorry for being late, I just got the message about the meeting." He smiled a bit and pulled a chair over the the table, resting his staff against the side. He kept his hood pulled up, despite the dark atmosphere and the fact he was with other Warlocks.


"I mean, it's not really much of a problem for me to up and leave London." Nicholas tapped his staff as he looked at the others. He hoped that Odin didn't decide to yell at him as he did the other one. Or, maybe Odin just yelled at everyone? Yelling all the time can't be pleasant...Might be entertaining to watch, though.

Edited by Kidcrest

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Laura walked down the streets, not too sure of where she was going. The whole reason of her going out in the first place had been to enjoy the snow, which had been followed by rain, but now that the sun was shining Laura figured she could have a destination. But where? Witches Alley? Laura stepped into a warmer patch of sunlight and decided against it. Enough people there disliked her careless ways and thought she would jeopardize the safety of the Alley. They probably didn’t even want to see her approach the area after what she just did.


Still considering possible places to visit, Laura noticed a familiar face sitting on a small wall. Mercy. This could not be good. She could just hear her, Laura Jane McLean that was irresponsible! You know better than that! Okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly how Mercy sounded, but it probably wasn’t far off. Laura stopped making faces at the woman and approached her with a calm look. Laura did actually admire Mercy and her no-nonsense attitude, and she really didn’t want to insult her.

“I did try,” She said, looking fairly guilty. “It just didn’t... go quite like planned”


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"Oh good morning, James, I am Abigale Jane but just Abby will do. Actually, I'll need about a pound and a half of this echinacae. Some sage and peppermint, if you have it, would be good." she answered, "But if you have fresh rowan berries, I shall take some of those too." James nodded, and then turned towards the shelves. He gathered a scruple of each plant, including the berries, and then measured out a pound and a half of echinacae with an extremely careful eye. If he got it wrong, his father would most likely beat him. James looked down, rechecking his work, and then bundled up the herbs for her with paper and string. That would keep them from getting damaged and would keep them fresher for whenever Abigale would use them. Turning back to her, James handed her the package. "Here you are." He turned away, ready to recite the expenses, when he heard a noise in the garden. "Hold on a moment, miss." he said, and started walking towards the garden. James knew Abigale wouldn't run with the goods, since his father knew where she lived and it wasn't worth the effort anyway. Cautiously, James opened the garden door. A horrible sight greeted his eyes.


A child was lying there, sobbing, skinny as a stick, and wearing what appeared to be a pile of rags. There was a bite mark on the child's arm, which was probably was from a rat. This child had the plague. As James cautiously walked closer, the child lifted it's head. It was a boy, with a small, dirty face stained with tear tracks. James fell to his knees, and the child crawled towards him. "Child, what is wrong?" The child said nothing, only started sobbing. He crawled onto Jame's lap, and James stroked his hair for a short while. After a bit, "Are your parents dead?" James asked, quietly calculating the risks. He glanced behind him at the closed door. The girl, Abigale, was still inside the shop, but she might be able to see him through the window. "Mister, I'm sick. My pa told me to come here, before he and ma went to join God in the high heavens. They had the same thing I did. I'm gonna join them soon, though." The boy sobbed, and James felt a ray of pity pierce him. James pulled some herbs out of his pocket and gave them to the boy to eat. "Eat these. These might help you get rid of the disease, but there is a condition. If you are cured, you must not tell anyone of what happened here, alright?" The boy nodded, and James closed his eyes.


Once the boy had digested the herbs, James reached and grasped the child's hand in his own. The boy would feel drowsy by now, and wouldn't notice James doing his magic. He bent over, and the pendant bearing his totem fell out of his shirt. His hands started to glow softly, and he felt warm inside. James closed his eyes and envisioned the disease. It was black and twisted, the Plague, like an evil weed strangling the life out of the boy. It would be easy, however, to remove, as James had done this many times before. James pictured the weed being uprooted. Sweat beaded on his brow, and James scrunched up his eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, the disease vanished, as if it had never been. The boy relaxed, and let out a deep breath, almost like a sigh of relief. The boy's life was no longer in danger.


James stood up, and let the boy fall asleep leaning against the wall of the store. He would wake up in an hour or so, and then James would swear him to secrecy. No one must find out that he was a warlock. However, using his power had knocked the wind out of him. James leaned against the wall, panting. His secret was still safe.

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"Sure, sure, take your time." Abigale answered, waving a care-free hand at him before going back to studying some plants that were situated on the nearby shelves. She had her packet of herbs tucked safely against her chest. She glanced briefly toward the door James had vanished out of it but didn't give it a second thought. The smell of mint greeted her nose and she turned, following the pleasant smell to the opposite side of the small apothecary. Such a lovely shop. She'd never seen better herbs outside of those the witches grew, not to mentioned the care and time James and his father had devoted to this shop. Honestly, it was beautiful.


Abigale never liked to be nosy but what caught her eye was something she couldn't look away from. Slowly, she made her way to the window. James was in the garden, with a small boy who looked terribly ill, but that was not the most surprising part. The sunlight caught the pendant perfectly, revealing it to Abigale's unintentionally prying eyes. It was gorgeous but Abigale was not easily fooled. A totem but that can't be. Unless....


His hands began to glow and Abigale felt the breath catch in her throat. She watched as the boy slowly returned to health and fell into an easy slumber. James stood, looking shaky on his feet, and leaned against the building to catch his breath. He was not female, so he could not be a witch, and a normal man could not do that, which led Abigale to one conclusion.


A warlock! The thought echoed through her brain, louder and louder, until she forced herself to calm down. When James looked up, she spun back around and pressed herself against the wall, her little package of herbs pressed to her chest. How many times had she been to this shop? Tons, she was a regular customer and never! Never had she noticed that James....but he had never noticed her either. He couldn't have, otherwise, surely he would have trapped her here and stolen her totem. No warlock would have let her walk out of that door as many times as she had and been the wiser. Which was why she had to act normal. He could not find out what she was or realize that she knew his secret. She quickly returned to where she'd been, studying the mint leaves, and looked up at him when he returned. "Is everything alright?" she asked casually, glancing over her shoulder at him. Her totem felt like a thousand pounds on her breast and she glanced down, reassuring herself that it could not be seen under her clothes. Please, do not let him find out...



"Of course, Odin, give me some credit." Hunter replied, lifting his eyes from the map to halfway glare at the man. Lord above, did he actually think Hunter would risk his neck lying to him? He knew how Odin was and he did not like the idea of putting himself on his bad side. "My most reliable source brought me this information and I double checked it myself." he explained, pulling a stub of a pencil from his breast pocket. He flipped the paper over, revealing a more detailed map of Oldenridge itself. "They're somewhere around here." he said, tracing his pencil along what would be Witch's Alley. "Or so I've heard."


When Nicholas walked up, Hunter glanced at him briefly before back at his map. He could not be wrong about this. Not only would Odin kill him but it would all have been a wasted effort. The traveling, the boys he'd send to investigate, and Hunter could not have that. "If you should wish to do that, Nick, go ahead. It's whatever the group decides."

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“Didn't go like planned? Honey, if you're magic doesn't go like planned then we've got some real problems here. You should always be in control of your power Laura Jane McLean or you'll end up dead honey... and you'll drag the rest of us down with you.” Mercy replaced the cuss words she wanted to use with “honey,” like she did when she was truly pissed.


She glanced around at the throngs of people who where so absorbed in their own lives that they hadn't heard a thing she'd said. Mercy sighed, she couldn't really be mad at Laura for long, she reminded Mercy too much of her own daughter. She didn't let her disapproving expression slip though.


“And look what you've done!” she gestured violently with her cane to encompass the packed street, “everyone has things to do now its stopped raining!”


She pushed herself up with her stick and handed Laura a list and a small bag of coins she produced from somewhere on her person. “You can at least help me with my rounds, now that you've spoilt my morning. Meet me at the Golden Lion inn in an hour, you got that?”




Odin sat back in his chair, one hand still playing with his cane, and stared at Hunters down turned face considering (and ignoring Nicholas completely). Oldenridge made sense, witches were smart, not the thieving idiots some warlocks thought them to be.


They had all assumed however, that the witches would scatter and avoid grouping to lessen their chances of being discovered. But now Odin thought about it, if there was a large gathering of them, they would be able to preform much more powerful spells together to hide themselves. Personally if it had been him, Odin would have chosen a town a little further away from his enemies central home, but as it was, he was quite glad they had supposedly chosen such a local hiding spot.


Plus Odin had to admit, Hunter was smart and had never let them down before. “All right, if you're sure about this then I say we check it out. Seeing as this is your lead, what do you suggest we do?”

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As James reentered the room, he noticed that Abigale was still observing the stock of herbs. Looking over her shoulder at him, she asked,"Is everything alright?" She didn't notice anything at all. James thought to himself, mentally relieved. Then he had to remind himself that Abigale couldn't possibly be a witch, anyway. She was just a normal person, as well as a regular customer to the apothocary shop. "Y-yeah, everything's fine." James said, and in a moment he had composed himself again. He recounted all of the items Abigale had wrapped up in her package, and then recounted the prices. A pound and a half of echinacae wasn't cheap, and there were the others as well... "The price amounts to about a shilling."James said, focusing back on her again. His totem was safely tucked beneath his shirt, and out of sight. Even if Abigale saw it, she couldn't possibly be a witch, so the whole thing didn't matter. Even so, James was still paranoid. His father was upstairs, perhaps he had seen the whole thing, but James still doubted it. His father was old and had very bad eyesight, which was probably the cause of his foul temper.

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It stopped raining. A small smile crossed the young woman's lips as she took the time to stop and wring some of the water out of her golden brown braid, and she couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. The change in weather had been much too sudden for it to be natural, she knew that, and the thought of who was behind the sudden sunlight made her smile. Either the girl was very happy, or she had just done it on the spur of the moment. Not that the reason mattered; she was just happy the bad weather was gone. This way she might even dry before she arrived at the costumer's place.


“Ah, right. Busy, busy, Felice!” Picking the bundle up from the ground where she had placed it when she was wringing the water out of her hair, she started running again. The costumer should get the delivery as quickly as possible, because the faster she worked, the more tips she got. Her nimble feet moved a few steps to the right just in time to avoid a lady with her shopping basket, and the young woman realized that she wasn't the only one who appreciated the sun. More and more people moved up and down the street, blocking her way. Not that she moved any slower for that reason; she had a lot of training running around after all.


“Down this street, to the left by the bakers.” Her mumblings went unnoticed as she weaved her way through the crowd, taking care to not to lose her bundle. It was the delivery after all. Suddenly there was a open gap in the crowd, no people at all, and she sped up in delight, her braid flowing behind her. It was fun to run between people, but running without any obstacles was really the best, at least in her opinion.


Her grey eyes lit up at the sight that met her as she finally turned the corner, but she didn't slow down because of it. “Hello, Mercy!” Her words could easily be called a shout, but no one seemed to pay her any attention; they were probably too busy with their own lives. “And thanks for the weather, Laura!” She turned around and ran backwards as she passed them, so she would be able to tell Laura thanks to her face, before she turned around and disappeared in the crowd. She had a bundle to deliver, after all, and she couldn't let the costumer wait.


He was late; the dark haired man was sure of that as he walked down the dirty streets which led him to his destination. He wasn't particularly fond of the place, or the streets that led him there, but he would stand it if only because the others insisted the meetings be held here. And he did realize the value in having those meetings in a safe place; he just didn't like the way there. But if it was a necessary measure...


His thought was left unfinished as he spotted the trade shops, and he knew he was nearing his destination – a rather dirty and unappealing bar. And sure enough; as he walked a little firther the old, wooden door came within sight. As he did every other time he came to the bar, he stopped just outside the door and looked at the carving of a raven. The sign was there to tell everyone who had enough knowledge that this was the place to go if you were a warlock, this was the place to go if you wanted a safe place. “But they could have made it nicer...” A sigh escaped him, just before he opened the door.


“All right, if you're sure about this then I say we check it out. Seeing as this is your lead, what do you suggest we do?” The voice wasn't particularly loud, but he could still pick it apart from every other voice in the small bar – not that there were many of them. Heard it enough times, perhaps? It didn't really matter. Another sigh escaped the young male as he cast a disgusted look at his rather dirty surroundings, before he closed his eyes halfway. His magic always worked best when he did that.


Satisfied, he watched as the people around him slowed down. The other people in the bar probably wouldn't even notice him as he walked by them, and if they did it would only be as a quick blur – just something to write off as the imagination of a drunk. They didn't, either – at least not as he could see – and quicker than soon he was standing beside the table where his companions had gathered. His eyes fell on a map on the table, and he tapped his finger curiously on it as he made the time go back to it's original speed. “What are we checking out?”

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Abigale nodded and dug into her purse for her money. She pulled out a silver coin, along with a couple extra pence. She handed them to James with a small smile. "Here you are. A little extra for your trouble, James, thank you." she said, dropping the coins into his hand before taking her bundle of herbs. She backed up but didn't turn just yet, instead keeping her eyes on his face.


How? How could he have lived here so long and none of the noticed? And why had he lived so peacefully among them? They all bought herbs from here! He could have attacked any one of them and stolen all their totems-but he hadn't. Why? Abigale did not understand and it troubled her. What was his purpose here? Surely, there must be something malicious behind it! Or...or was she trying to create that something? Was she trying to find something evil in him?


A spy! Yes! That must be it. He must be here to spy on them and send information back to the warlocks in London! Oh, she could not let this go-but he had been so kind. He'd always been so kind to her when she came to shop and never once had tried to harm her. Was that because he did not know what she was? If he found out, would things change? She would tell the others, she had too, and see what they thought. Still, he obviously fought to keep such a thing a secret and she almost felt...wrong telling it. Why should she? He was a warlock and therefore a danger to them! If she did not tell the others, was she betraying them?


"Goodbye then, James." she said, turning on her heels and strolling out the door, skirts fluttering behind her. Outside, she tucked the bundle of her herbs into her bag before taking off down the crowded street. She briefly realized that it was sunny out, a blessing, but her mind was elsewhere. As she ran, a falcon cried out from above her and she looked up, a smile passing over her lips. "There's trouble, Cato!" she called out before finally spotting her destination. She came to a stop at the door and started knocking (albeit it was more like pounding) on the wood. "Holly! Holly, open the door! Quickly, I have news!"



Hunter looked up at Blacwin, sitting back and grimacing when his shoulders popped. He really shouldn't spend so much time hunched over maps...He cleared his throat and tapped at Oldenridge on the map once more. "This town. I've good reason to believe some witches are living there. It won't be like the Wales trip, I assure you." he explained, glancing at the same, poor man from before.


Hunter scooted over so Blacwin could sit, should he wish, before looking at Odin. "I think a few of us should go in first, scout it out and find out where their main living quarters are. We'll need to know what kind of magic that have around the place, if any." he started, counting off a few things he knew for certain. He didn't mind taking the lead, as he often did, so it was nothing new. "We should also see how involved they are in the town. If the townsfolk have taken to them we might end up having trouble from them if we attack."


They were all good points but hardly anything any of the men present couldn't come up with. He studied Odin from across the table, his mind again bringing up the major detail he was leaving out. Odin was the only one that knew of Hunter's twin sister (how he had come to find out, Hunter didn't know) and he knew that the man didn't get particularly excited when Hunter had them trooping over Europe to follow Abby. If he found out that she was the reason he was suggesting Oldenridge...but perhaps if Hunter told him, it would go over more smoothly. He would tell Odin after the meeting, when the others had dispersed.


"I'd like to get a little more information before we just run in and attack them. We don't know what abilities they have. Any one have any input?"

Edited by crypticsoul

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The day was like any other for Elloise. She wasn't sure what to make of today, but she went along with exploring the town and visiting the graveyard where her great great grandmother lay to rest due to old age and of cancer that was incurable at this time in history. Fiddling with her totem that she wore this time on her wrist, she looked around at the busy body of the town, the marketplace. It was hard to tell who was a witch, who was a normal human, and who was a warlock these days because, well, we all looked the same. The many people manning the marketplace were shouting out deals that traveled to her ears, but none caught her interest. She wasn't one who liked to shop, for one, and she wasn't one who liked to get lost in a crowd of people she didn't know. Elloise continued on her way past the market square towards the cemetery where she entered through the iron gate, paused on the trail, and tried to pinpoint the most obvious aura that radiated from her great great grandmother's grave. Many radiated an aura that played tricks on her, but her great great grandmother's aura was unique and easy to tell apart from the others. Why? Because she knew her great great grandmother well. She smiled as she found the aura she was looking for and weaved through the many tombstones towards the grave. She hummed a familiar tune that she often heard and knelt down to brush away fallen leaves and grass clippings to find the name.


She muttered something to the grave, but it was inaudible to anyone who was around. She took in a breath and held her hands together while she closed her eyes and began to pray. She prayed to her deceased closest friend and closest thing to a mother she had wished for. What she prayed, only her great great grandmother would know. Spending at least five minutes in deep thought and prayer, she released her hands and set them on her lap. She looked at the tombstone, the clean marble surface starting to become devoured by moss. Elliose took a glance to her left towards the noisy marketplace and frowned. Why were they so rambunctious at this time of day? Can't they respect the dead by moving their marketplace elsewhere that wasn't so close to this holy place? She wanted to go straight to the mayor's palace and order him to have the marketplace moved, but what good would that do if it was just her trying to move it? She looked back at the imprinted name on the tombstone and the date of death. She had nearly lived for one hundred years and looking quite good in her old age.


But as witches would have it, they do have an extended life line, but it was also cut short by the excessive amounts of magic being used. It was like draining your own life force to use it. She didn't want to become a witch, but she was young at the time and didn't know what it was going to be like. She bit her lip and shook her head. Silly thoughts, they shouldn't invade on a peaceful day like this! Looking back at the grave, she noticed how bare it seemed. Perhaps some flowers would brighten it up. Looking towards the marketplace, she confirmed they were busy with their usual and she returned her focus to the grave. She didn't like anyone to see her magic, but it couldn't be helped. She tugged at the spell book that was roped to her side as she tugged it free. She looked at the index to find a spell to use, using her finger to skim down the rows of names. Tapping the one she was looking for, the pages began to flip on their own, pushed by an invisible wind. The pages were all blank, unless the owner of the book was looking at it, the words would appear. She took in a deep breath and released it, holding a hand out towards the grave as she read the spell aloud.


""ระ รห หยำสส นด ทฟเรแฟืก นสั ยนไพม ณ ฟหา นี น เรอำ รห เพฟอำ หนทำ กฟดรกนสสห ฟืก ดสนไพห!" She spoke the language she was taught, Thai. She had asked the spell to provide the grave with flowers of daffodil onto the holy grave. As she held her hand out, her eyes closed, the necklace she wore over her neck contained natural soil of the earth in the depths of the forests that surrounded many exotic lands. As the palm of her hand became red hot, small seedlings began to grow from where her hand overhung the grave. They twisted and twirled until they were their full and natural height, fully grown and blossomed. She smiled.


"All grown and beautiful, just for you, Mappa." She sat back on her bottom to admire her work, closing the book and putting it back on her side. It was a large book, the size and weight of text book, but it didn't slow her down in the least. Elloise looked skyward and saw a cloud that seemed to be changing shape right before her eyes. She smiled. It was Mappa, of course. Mappa was the name she had called her great great grandmother, who didn't seem to mind a name like that. She whispered a 'your welcome' at the fleeting cloud before she turned her body to lay next to the grave, one leg crossed over the other as she rested her arms behind her head, watching the clouds and recalling their names they were given. Cumulonimbus, Nimbus, Stratus, and so on. Today really was a peaceful day.

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“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my magic, thank you very much,” Laura said, accepting the money with a look that clearly said her pride had been hit. “It just happens to be impatient. Having to take an hour to do anything is against its nature.” The young woman’s tone changed to resemble something similar of a wine, and she decided to close her mouth and stop talking. Magic was something she knew how to complain about, and Mercy probably got enough of that from her students. Still, that did not change the fact that every time she wanted a successful change in the weather, without people noticing, she had an hour of tug of war with her magic to look forward too.


Tucking the coins into a small pouch, Laura heard running footsteps approach. Not even having time to consider who was running, Laura heard a familiar voice call out, “Hello Mercy! And thanks for the weather Laura!” Laura smiled as she recognised the girl sprinting pasted her, “Anything for you Felice!” She called after her, pleased that her powers had done something positive on top of all the trouble.


“What do you need?” Laura asked, turning back to Mercy. “I need to pick up some spices and herbs for the inn, so I can pick up something from an apothecary for you while I’m there.”




“Ever consider cutting your hair Matilda?” “Of course not John. A girl with short hair? Unacceptable,” a man in his mid to late twenties answered, laughing. “I’m serious though Matthew, your hair is too long,” the first man, John, said as he picked up different items and cleaned up around the room. “Not like you will listen to me though. So shoo. You said you had things to do downtown.”


Matthew smiled and ran a hair through his hair, not completely understanding what the whole fuss was about. His hair wasn’t that much too long. It just happened to fall into his eyes. Besides, the girls all thought it made him look dashing.

“I’m leaving.” Matthew said, picking up a jacket and putting it on. Running out the door, he called a goodbye over his shoulder.


Now, the quickest way to the pub. There were a lot of people outside, so anything by foot was out of the question. At the thought of what that meant, a smile reappeared on the man’s face. If he couldn’t go by foot, he would just have to fly. Not wanting to be seen, he walked down an abandoned alley. Closing his eyes in concentration, the man’s body shrunk and changed shape, until, suddenly, it had been completely replaced by a small falcon. The falcon flapped his wings a couple of times, before it caught air and flew over the city.


Hardly a minute had passed before the falcon landed in front of an old building. Not even bothering to check if there was anyone nearby, Matthew changed back to his human form. His destination had been a small pub in Stones Alley, so nobody who wasn’t trustworthy would have been able to see.

Matthew opened the door, and with a small nod towards the bartender, he headed straight towards the group of warlocks in the corner. He was very late, but things like that tend to happen when you find out about a meeting five minutes before it was held. Reaching the table, Matthew pulled the map slightly closer to him so he could see better. “Oldenridge?” He asked as he saw what place had been circled. “Isn’t that place known for weird weather?”

Edited by coralkiki

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"Holly! Holly, open the door! Quickly, I have news!" Someone was banging on the door. Holly looked up from what she was doing, which was feeding one of the small tabby kittens, which was playing with her apron strings. Who could it be? A witch? Then Holly realized who it was and hurried over to the door, unlocking it. It must be Abigale! She opened the door to see her friend standing there, clutching a bag to her chest. Abigale looked like she had run a fair distance, and her face was white and pale. Holly assumed the worst. "What's wrong?" she said, leading Abigale inside and sitting her down in a chair. "Is it what we feared? Is there a warlock that knows of our whereabouts? Should I go and deal with him?" The words came out quickly, as if Holly could get them over with quickly.


James waved at Abigale as she left, bidding him goodbye. As he watched her walk casually out of the shop, a small sigh of relief left him, though he didn't know why. She couldn't possibly be a witch, anyway. Why else would she walk so willingly into his shop? No witch in any town would be able to do that without giving herself away. His father had told him witches weren't very smart on the subject of concealment. However, Jay had to disagree with him there. If witches weren't good at concealing themselves, then how in the name of God had they managed to hide from the warlocks for so long? As to that question, Jay had no answer. He had never seen a witch, other than the one at a meeting his father had made him attend when he was about nine. The other warlocks had caught a witch, and had tried to torture the whereabouts of other witches out of her. She had been paraded in front of the other warlocks, looking like a beaten dog. Jay had felt sorry for her, and he still did. Of course, it was natural to see another human reduced to that state, but he did not dare mention it to his father. That sort of talk would get him killed. And his father was paranoid enough.

Edited by Darkshadow

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"No, no, none of that yet, Holly." Abigale answered, laying her package down on the table and rising to walk over to throw open the window. The falcon from before, a beautiful Saker, flew in and perched itself on the window sill. Cato, Abigale's faithful companion and dearest friend. She stroked the bird's tawny feathers, looking back at Holly over her shoulder. "There is a warlock among us, though. The young man at the apothecary we always visit." she explained, her voice serious and grave. No, but she didn't want Holly going after him, not just yet. She needed to know how-how he lived her so long without being discovered. "I was there just moments ago, buying herbs to refill my stock, and I saw him heal a little boy. It was strange, Holly, for I sensed no malice about him. He saved a child from the clutches of death, yet, he is a warlock! It is absurd!" she said, her voice growing louder for a moment before she calmed down.


Cato ruffled his feathers in response to Abigale's distress, dark obsidian eyes focusing on the tabby kittens. He turned his head, as if inspecting them, before flying over and perching himself on a nearby chair. He watched them, as if intrigued, ruffling his feathers from time to time. Abigale closed the window and turned back to Holly. "I do not understand. Warlock's cannot heal, it is a lot art to them, and yet I saw this man do it with my very eyes. He has never once tried to harm us and we have all been in that shop...so I must wonder why he is here."



Hunter looked up at Matthew. By God, was everyone going to come late today? He was beginning to grow tired of repeating himself. "It is." he answered with a slight not, sliding the map back to him. He motioned for Matthew to sit. Five minutes! He'd given them a full five minutes this time! Plenty of time to be here. "There are witches there. I don't know how many but it's at least a good handful of them. We were just deciding how she would go about this. They're sure to have some spells over the town."

Edited by crypticsoul

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"No, no, none of that yet, Holly." Abigale answered, laying her package down on the table and rising to walk over to throw open the window. Holly's own companion, Malkie, a semi-chubby brown tabby with green eyes, hissed at the falcon and stood protectively over the kittens, who were gamboling and wobbling about on their tiny, furry legs, though they were not her kittens. Holly picked up Malkie and began stroking the tabby's long, soft mottled fur while making soothing noises. Soon the cat calmed down and Holly kept listening.


"There is a warlock among us, though. The young man at the apothecary we always visit." Abigale explained, her voice serious and grave. Holly sucked in her breath between her teeth. She knew the place, of course. It was a beautiful, neatly kept shop where that boy James and his father kept good care of it. They had been very kind to her as well when she went to go buy their herbs. She was a regular customer there, being a witch, of course. "I was there just moments ago, buying herbs to refill my stock, and I saw him heal a little boy. It was strange, Holly, for I sensed no malice about him. He saved a child from the clutches of death, yet, he is a warlock! It is absurd!" she said, her voice growing louder for a moment before she calmed down.



The falcon ruffled his feathers in response to Abigale's distress, dark obsidian eyes focusing on the tabby kittens. He turned his head, as if inspecting them, before flying over and perching himself on a nearby chair. He watched them, as if intrigued, ruffling his feathers from time to time. Malkie hissed at the falcon and leapt from Holly's arms, prowling in front of the kittens, and then herded them back to the blanket that was their bed and started giving each of them a good wash. Holly smiled fondly at them, and then stopped as Abigale closed the window and turned back to Holly. "I do not understand. Warlock's cannot heal, it is a lost art to them, and yet I saw this man do it with my very eyes. He had never once tried to harm us and we have all been in that shop, so I must wonder why he is here." Holly nodded at this, her forehead creasing as she closed her eyes to ponder the question. She had often herself tried to convince warlocks to again turn to the path of the Goddess, to use their powers for good, and to stop hunting witches again. So far, she had failed, but her attempts had earned her the title 'Priestess, but she did send them to the next world, into the afterlife. Holly's powers were not to be underestimated, that was for sure.


After a moment, she finally said, "All I can assume is that he is a warlock in training. He is young, James, and therefore has not the bias of an older warlock. He must be making his own decisions, then. I'm sure his father does not know about this healing, because he probably would not allow it. Most warlocks are corrupted, but James's heart seems to be kind. Maybe....it will be possible to turn him to our side. Or, this could just be a fake-out, something to lure us into the open, and then to kill us. Only time will tell." Holly said, sighing. Then she turned to Abigale and looked her full in the face. "Whatever you do, don't look or act suspicious. Continue going to the apothecary. If James suspects us, we might as well shout to the world we're witches if you don't return after his little 'miracle work'. I'll go sometime too, but this cannot be prolonged." Holly jabbed a finger at Abigale. "Sooner or later, James will find out, and we're going to have to be ready to take action in case he decides to follow the path of his father."

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Abigale laughed lightly but it was more out of relief than humor. "You're right, I don't want him getting suspicious of us. He didn't seem to think anything out of the ordinary about me when I was there." she replied, returning to the seat Holly had sat her in when she had first arrived. She hoped James was not like his father, or the others, for he was such a kind boy and Abigale would hate to see him travel that path. Plus, he was a healer! So few ever truly mastered the art and, to think, there was one among them!


"I do not think we should tell the others." she said suddenly, looking up at Holly. She briefly glanced at Cato, who seemed amused by Malkie's protectiveness of the kittens, and smiled slightly. Of all the things Cato would eat, kittens were not one of them (especially if such kittens belonged to a friend). "The more of us that know, the worse it could be as we'd all be cautious around him. If they don't know, they'd continue to act naturally." she explained, though it hurt her to think she would keeping such a big secret from her friends...her family. What if he were to-no, he would not harm them, would he?


"I forgot anise and marigold, so it seems I'll be returning soon." she murmured, propping her chin up on her fist. After seeing him heal that child, she had left without getting everything she'd needed. By God in Heaven, her stock had been empty! She should learn not to let things run down so low. "What if they can find him? He may not know it but his being here could lead them straight to us."

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