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Author Topic: They Call her Witch  (Read 3033 times)

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Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

They Call her Witch
« on: September 23, 2010, 06:40:38 PM »
The harvest moon rose full in the sky.  Cytherea’s eyes watched from her door threshold people have come and gone both ashamed but thankful for her efforts.  The wind blew past her and her nerves could sense something coming.  It wasn’t winter yet, but the snow would be here soon enough.   

“Aye mother will soon freeze this place once again.”   She knew she must make this journey to town in the morning.  It wasn’t far but those who never understood her or what she stood for often thought her and the devil the same. 

The cottage wasn’t remarkably suited for anyone of money.  But it fit her needs and those who entered.  She brought a many little ones in this world.  She has never made a house call.  That was too much.  If they want her, they came to her, other then that she did what was taught to her.  She kept to her self. She tended her wood.  She kept her small garden of tomatoes, lettuce, some corn and pumpkins.  She could not see the future.  She just healed.   Her talents were not out of this world.  Like most thought.  She even hunted her own food.  Not eat little children like most of the stories in town were about the woman who saved and trained her.  And now stories about her were one in the same.  The stories were that the woman cast a spell on her older self to be young again.  This was not so.  She died last fall.  The fever got to her and so Cytherea had her wishes granted and cremated her and her ashes were spread through out Mother Nature’s body. 

Those who journeyed her way, kept her as a last resort and her efforts are no longer mentioned once she services their ailments.  But a little recognition wouldn’t be disregarded.  But like the Tara had said over and over, never ask what is not given freely.  Not now, not never. 

Cytherea liked the steady method of this madness.  She became a sponge of everyone’s thoughts and opinions of her.  What mattered was how much she gave in the end.  Even, if the little money was left like a man leaving a harlots bed; Then on the table before the only door of this place.  It was one room.  There was a bed in the corner, a table in the middle of the room, a fire place to cook and warm her self.  A cast iron pots and pans lay in another wooden bucket beside the fire place.  There was a stream behind the cottage.  Where she went to bathe and collect water for other activities.   It was nothing glamorous.  But she wasn’t use to glamorous now was she?  She turned from the door and closed it heading to the bed in her bare feet.  She was a light sleeper.  Never know when some one would NEED her.  But they didn’t want her now did they?  Cytherea laid on her back as she covered her self with the wool blankets, she then eyed the only crack in the wood where moon light entered. “Blessed be mother moon.”  Then Cytherea closed her eyes and sleep soon followed.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #1 on: September 24, 2010, 10:52:34 AM »
The morning came without any interruptions more the better.  Cytherea rose from the bed and ran her hands through her hair.  The trip to town must be made to day.  The crick in her neck popped as she stretched it.  She then placed both feet on the wooden floor.  The fire in the fire place was down to bright coals.  She would have to gain more wood also on her return. 

She changed from her sleeping habit, to a dark blue skirt that came to her ankles, a light blue trim lace at the bottom of it.  The skirt swayed freely.  Her top along was a white peasants top, along with a dark blue corset.  Her dark brown hair came to her shoulders.  She put it in a lose bun and held it with a piece of lace.  After she was comfortable with her usual appearance for going into town she grabbed her coin bag.  And her shopping leather bag.  Making a memory of her list she slipped on leather shoes and made her way out the door.  After locking the only door, she walked 3 blocks east and stopped at the entrance to the town.  The bridge was very narrow, and many travelers made there way past her and from her.  The town was busy with vendors alike.  And she was a paying customer just as must as the next man or woman in line to pay.  Only her reputation kept her moving faster. 

 she began walking quickly down the bridge.  The smell of this town was one of sweat, cooking meat, iron, horse and yolk.  This was a large town. It was big enough for her and everyone else.

She stopped as many people who recognized her for who she was and moved away, almost like a stray dog.  Cytherea was used to this and made her way over to the clothe vendor for new rolls of wool. 

“I’ll take two rolls please,” She said kindly to the woman eyeing her cautiously.  The woman only slid the roll to Cytherea after she paid her gold.  “You have a blessed day.”  The old woman already ignoring her words, and already working on the person next in line. 

She moves to the next vendor, herbs and such, and ponders her stash of rose petal veins.  She may need to rep-plant them again.  The crows have been in her bushes again.  She purchases a few more seeds from the planter’s wife as she heads to the store building.  More bread and milk too.  The store that was full of patrons seems to see her and walk out the door.  She looks the other way.  “You’ll want me when you need me she sighs” 

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #2 on: September 24, 2010, 12:05:39 PM »
Cytherea's visits to town were always quick, and un-interrupted.  She never once took the chance to draw unnecessary attention to herself.  The rumors were enough to keep others a safe distance.  But from who?  Her from them?  Or them from her?  She gives a soft smile giving into the joke that must be there somewhere.  But with the secret agreements between the villagers and her.  She won't dattle to much longer.  She had a life to live as well.  Wood to chop.  A fence to mend.  The life of a healer.  "What fools us mortals be,"   she said to her self, as she made her way out of town back to the bridge that crossed the river that led her to the path that led her home.  With her leather bag full of goods, and her gold coin purse empty.  There was always just enough.

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #3 on: September 24, 2010, 12:10:56 PM »
He sighed as he looked down at the moldy piece of paper in his hands, it was a map....of sorts the sort of rural scribblings that a well meaning but ill educated farmer would hastily draw before rushing back to drive away the crows from his crop. Looking around the quaint little town Fritz let out another bitter sigh. "close enough" he thought to himself. "Come" he pulled on the reigns of his traveling companion. A old gray and speckled plow horse by the name of Pfeffer, who had been donated to the church after its better years had already past.

As he walked down the street the villagers made obvious attempts to avoid his path though not for the same reason that they had avoided the girl. A wide brimmed hat covered a head of shaggy brown hair which looked like it had been hacked at with a knife in a attempt to attain some semblance of respectability. Stubble and hints of a mustache framed the lower parts of his sharp angular face though most of that was obscured by a tattered scarf that was wrapped around the lower parts of his face and his neck. He wore a plain black over coat that was emblazoned over the left breast with the emblem of a eye framed by the wings of two flying crows set against a silver cross. Every now and then the silver rod he used as a walking stick tapped down on the stone sidewalk. *tap* *tap* *tap* A slow leisurely rhythm to match the man's pace.

and then his stomach growled, he had been on the road for several days subsisting only on what he could manage to forage from the wilderness and while he wasn't starving per se he was damned hungry. Sighing again he entered into the market district. "I suppose a local would know the best place to avoid catching botulism at......" Sighting out a remarkably well dressed young woman with her hair done up in a bun just leaving the market place....something was off about her though something almost bewitching. Deciding that she was as good a person to ask as any he hurried his pace to catch up with her and placed a strong but gentle hand on her shoulder. "Excuse me miss, but do you know where a tired traveler may find a decent place to have a good meal and a place to rest?"

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #4 on: September 24, 2010, 12:26:40 PM »
Cytherea was humming and thinking to her self almost home.  She didn’t hear the man coming up behind her.   But when her asked, her blue eyes met his.  She held his gaze longer than maybe she should have.  She stopped in her tracks.  She smiled polite. “ I am sorry sir.  My thoughts are not about me this day.  May I beg your pardon?”

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #5 on: September 24, 2010, 12:39:15 PM »
He gave her a tired smile in return his own eyes not quite willing to break contact with her's either. "Not its perfectly fine, I was simply wondering if there was any place nearby where I could have a meal and some decent rest. I've been traveling for some time and have just arrived in the town a while ago. "

the horse behind him let our a snort that was half snicker and half snort, "oh and I suppose the beast at my back could use some carrots and hay to lie down on as well."

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #6 on: September 24, 2010, 12:49:49 PM »
Cytherea nodded in agreement.  Even though she was friendly.  She eyed him closely.  She wasn’t about to lead this man to her home.  She had her own safety to think about and though he looked friendly enough she was cautious of anyone a man in particular to just come up and touch her on her shoulder.  He defiantly didn’t know who she was.  She liked that.  She reached in her leather sack as she smiled to the man and the beast of burden at his back.  She pulled out two carrots.  One for the man and the other for his horse.  She handed him both and then pointed east behind her. 

“There is an Inn.  Its called the majesty.  The food there is edible and the bed will suit you and your horses needs.  Sorry, that is all I know.”  Her voice soft but wary.  With that she turned her back on him and continued walking.  She needed to get home and do chores.  The less the villagers saw him talking to her the better for him.

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #7 on: September 24, 2010, 01:14:21 PM »
"my thanks" he took the carrots and went back his own way towards the inn the young lady had recommended, but not before turning back to say something. "A young lady such as yourself had better take care to be careful. Especially with a witch in the area......." With that he left with carrot, and horse in tow.

"She's an interesting one isn't she Pfeffer?" The horse merely shook its head to shoo away a horsefly in response. "Isn't it odd that she lives so far out of town? You don't think she's hiding something do you Pfeffer?" Again another noncommittal shake of its head. "Still such a nice young lady I do hope that she isn't the one that we're looking for." Silence "Ah, well have a carrot" The pair munched on their carrots and reached the inn at their own relaxed pace. Every now and then stopping to let one or several of the village children play with Pfeffer, or cajole Fritz into buying them sweets.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #8 on: September 24, 2010, 02:10:29 PM »
  She didn’t hear his last words as Cytherea turned down a dirt path between willow trees, the spring was bubbling, deer and other creatures took turns sampling its liquid.   She un-bolted the door and entered; Setting her leather bag and empty gold coin purse on the table.  She went back out the way she came.  Going behind the cottage she pick up three pieces of wood.  All three decant size fire wood.  She brought them back inside and laid them next to the fire place.  Next she took her hand spade and mixed the once coals now ash.  She cleans her fire place enough and set the three logs neatly in the hearth.  Striking the flint to the stone she sparked a few embers until enough flame was born and growing.  Picking her self up.  She dusted her skirt off and whipped the sweat from her brow.  She now need to collect water from the stream. To water the garden and make a another stew.  She  could feel the muscles in her back protest already.  She was fit for the task.  Who needed a man around the house anyway?  Better her alone.  Then wait hand and foot on a man.  Besides, a man would want her bare foot and pregnant and she has seen the pain all ladies have gone through.  She had herbs to numb them, but they lasted only so long.  She will never want to be in position. 

Cytherea collected the wooden bucket in her hand and made her way to the stream behind her cottage.  She startled a red-squirrel from his spot and it raced up the willow to her right and began barking her arrival through the forest.  Cytherea looked up the willow as she set the bucket down before the stream.  The red-squirrel still staying its ground from its limb.  Doing the creatures of the forest a favor.  “And to think I was going to eat you?” She said laughing at the critter.  She then got on her knees and placed the bucket in the stream to collect water.   When it was full enough she stood.  Leaning over to collect the bucket in her hands.  This time walking carefully back to her cottage.  She stopped and cupped water in her palm to take a sip.  She brought it to her lips and drank freely.  The cool crisp liquid sliding down her dry throat.  She then made it to her small garden.  Taking a smaller cup and splashing the plants.  “Drink up my lovelies.”  She said softly.  She began humming again. 

Back in town there was talk of the witch being spotted again.  “As lovely as she looked, never trust the blue eyed devil.  She will steal your soul and leave your body to the birds”  Many men said that. Never any of them having such experience.  But when one cries wolf it is better to be on the better liked side.  The Majesty was a tavern combined with an Inn.  Many patrons frequent the bar and few slept there.  The beer was tasty.  A few men sat at the tables talking about the newest gossip.  Cytherea the witch was spotted.  Some said that she cast spells with her eyes.    One look and you’d turn to stone.  A few talked about other things they liked to do.  But none never said they dare try.  “The devil walks among us.”  The older man said as he took a sip of his beer.  She wears blue, and lives alone in the forest.  Why would we dare want her here?  There are doctors that do what she does. 

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #9 on: September 24, 2010, 02:46:24 PM »
Fritz entered the Inn, "Barkeep! A room for the week, and a hot meal please?" The inquisitor placed a few small silver coins on the bar counter, "Oh and if you would please have your servants see to my horse, she's the old speckled mare tied to a post out back." He seated himself at an empty table glad for the opportunity to rest his weary bones. Leaning back against the old wooden chair he signaled a passing serving wench for an ale by mimicking the action of deeply drinking from a tankard. With the issue of food and shelter done with he sat back and listened into the smattering of conversations that surrounded him.

"The devil walks among us......She wears blue and lives alone in the forest."

For some reason that description seemed oddly familiar to Fritz, oh look here comes beer. He thanked the wench for the tankard and continued listening in. It was the typical superstitious talk that rurals tended to spread amongst themselves, the sort of talk that more often than not resulted in the death of a perfectly innocent midwife, but still he was bound by duty to follow any leads that came up. Coming up to their table he introduced himself.

"Gentleman, I have heard your concerns that there might be a witch in the area perhaps I may be of assistance. I am Fritz Jaeger a inquisitor of the church." This was all said in a tired almost irreverent tone, as if this were an introduction that he had used for years and years to calm the fears of superstitious village folk.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #10 on: September 24, 2010, 03:22:05 PM »
The bar- keep eyed the man asking for the room and collect the coins.  Then he sent the young boy, Daniel to tend to his horse.  “Aye sir, my daughter will be back with your drink and food.” 

The little boy ran out the back door and around the majesty to collect the man’s horse. Bringing the horse around back to the stables where many other horses were fed and watered.  He placed the horse in a stall by it self, made sure the water holder had plenty of fresh water.  He made sure the hay was dry and clean for the horse to eat and lay on.  He then came back in to hear the newcomer’s speech.

"Gentleman, I have heard your concerns that there might be a witch in the area perhaps I may be of assistance. I am Fritz Jaeger a inquisitor of the church."


Daniel looked at his grandfather coolly.   He watched as his mother brought the man his plate and ale.  His grandfather eyed him and shook his head.  When he saw Daniel he shook his head and pointed out the door.  Daniel went back outside but not far away.  Just outside the door.  He could hear the men and patrons give the woman that brought him into this world a death sentence.  To call her witch was horrible.  She may be a cookie of a woman.  But a witch.  He had heard lies of her and his thoughts were always the same.  He still visits the lass every year.  On the day he was born.  In fact, his 10th birthday will be coming up.  But he may need to make this trip sooner.  The woman needs to know what is coming and he was going to be the one to tell her first.  He shot out past the back of the building through the forest taking his short cut under the bridge. Heading to her.


Cytherea was knee deep in wire when she heard her name from a breathless boy.  It was soon to be his 10th birthday.  Daniel Malloy.  She stood where she was waiting for the boy to stop and take a breath.  She even offered water laughing at his quickness. “What is with you, you’re early.  But I suppose you can have your gift already.  She stepped over the wire. 

“No, Cytherea, there is talk about you.”

Cytherea chuckled, “There is talk always talk about me. What is it this time?  Am I eating children again?  Better leave before you fall victim then?”  She turned and made a mockery of a monster and made her hands into claws.  “Or am I bewitching the livestock? That’s a good one though got to give them that. Or,” She stopped and placed her finger on her chin with a sly grin.  “I am bewitching men to com to me!”  She broke into laughter.  But the boy was not smiling.  “This is serious isn’t it?  Come in and have some stew and we will talk.”  And Cytherea and Daniel walked inside and Cytherea closed the door. 

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #11 on: September 24, 2010, 03:36:39 PM »
He let the men ramble at each other about how the "witch" had turned the cows' milk sour, how she had brought drought and flood to the region, and any number of terrible deeds this so called witch had perpetrated; listening calmly he went to his seat to claim his meal, only to return the men's table to listen in on their claims. The food was plain and rustic some thick stew and a trencher of hard dark bread for dipping still to a man who had lived on nuts and berries for the past week it smelt simply heavenly. He dug into his meal with relish savoring every last bite going as far as to lick his own fingers to lap up the greasy residue the stew had left on his fingers.

"So do you have any proof that she's done these deeds your claiming she's done?" he asked the old men carefully.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #12 on: September 24, 2010, 03:57:22 PM »
"So do you have any proof that she's done these deeds your claiming she's done?" he asked the old men carefully.


Jacob the milk farmer told Fritz of the time he had been healed by the woman, her name was Cytherea, she had asked for a calf for   payment instead of gold.  Once he denied her all the cows milk had gone sour.  Chickens stopped nesting too.  But he had no excuse for that.  Then another man cut in saying his whole plot was flooded after Cytherea came to town one year but was older.  Same blue eyes though.  But this was hear say there was no hard evidence they could offer.  But more than one could say there was something unnatural about her.  She was unmarried.  No children.  Did man’s work.  Any decant female would be caught dead doing what she did.  She was uncommon and very dangerous.  Keeps to her self. 

A younger  man came to join the group and sat down next to Fritz. The woman worships the devil she does.  I’ve seen her dance under the pale moon with him.”  This man was the son of the shoe makers.  Dark hair and seedy eyes that matched.  His clothes although more common fashioned.  He smiled as a knowing man. 
« Last Edit: September 25, 2010, 03:54:58 PM by DementedPixie »

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #13 on: September 24, 2010, 04:09:01 PM »
"So........ just rumor and hear say" He leaned back against his chair and weaved his hands behind his head to think for a bit. He sighed before eyeing the young man, he knew this sort hell he was this sort of person a few years years back: cruel, mischievous and always on the prowl for trouble. "Can you take me to where she dances with he devil? young man I have my doubts, but its my duty to get to the truth of the matter here and if there's even the remotest chance that she is in league with the devil then I'll have to make sure that she won't bring anymore harm to this town. So if you please, lead the way."

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #14 on: September 24, 2010, 04:34:20 PM »
The man chuckled, “far be it for me to step foot on tarnished ground holy man.  But Daniel the bar-keep son visits her once a year to keep the peace with his family.  They sold their souls to the devil when they let that witch stay under their roof as a girl.  She helped bring him into this world you know.  He is the one that cared for your horse out back.  He is turning 10.  He has been bewitched by her since he fell off the apple orchard and she nursed his arm.  He is under the beauties spell since then.  Just ask his grand father.  He pointed to the old man behind the bar.  The man looked at Johnson sternly.  Said, “You be leaving me boy outta this hog-wash, Cytherea’s a good girl, just miss-understood.  It is the woman before her that was the witch.”  With that he tossed Fritz the key to his room.  In worn engraved numbers 202 was present.  It was a wooden key.  The woman lives 3 blocks east of here.  Follow the path of willows and streams.  You’ll find your mid-wife there living off the land, like the good lord permitted.”  With that the old man left and stepped out side and slammed the back door in anger. 



Cytherea listened to Daniel’s story of the man named Fritz Jaeger a inquisitor of the church.  The stories that were being told about her.  She smiled as the families only son came all this way to warn her.   “Daniel my dear boy, it warms my heart to know that you care more about my reputation than I.  So, there is an inquisitor in town.  I’ve nothing to hide.  Let him come and Test me.  There are no evil deeds here.”  She took the empty bowl from the table and re-filled his cup of juice.   The gift she gave him wasn’t really a gift but company and a meal.  Time to make a mockery out of the town he calls home.  She had sung to him. Told him stories, now she repeated what Tara told her one day would come. “There isn’t anything to worry about.  Now, you best be on your way before they think I gotten to you too.  The boy hugged Cytherea and she popped him a kiss on the top of his head.  Motherly in nature.  Daniel walked out the door after waving and telling her that he will be back on his birthday.  Cytherea said she be looking forward to it. 

After Daniel left a cool chill went up her back, so it wasn’t winter that was coming early.  So an inquisitor had com to town?  Cytherea gave a soft sigh,  “what fools us mortal’s be”

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #15 on: September 24, 2010, 05:02:27 PM »
(OOC: I probably won't be on for the rest of the day, but I think I can come back on either Saturday or Sunday. Thanks, its been a lot of fun so far.)

This is why he hated his job too many things, such as innocence and the like, getting in the way of his hunt. Oh, if only the world were filled with evil witches who he could hunt down at his leisure that would be paradise, but no instead the church had him chasing midwives and nursemaids out in godforsaken little backwaters like these *sigh*. At least he wasn't a priest.

He opened the door and quickly shut and locked it behind him, a force of habit from his days as an apprentice. Throwing off his clothes one by one he plopped down on the bed too tired to think or care about this so called witch. "I'll take care of this tomorrow, for now I'm going to sleep." With that he drifted off into a deep, blissfully dreamless sleep.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #16 on: September 24, 2010, 06:03:34 PM »
((OOC: this is all well and fine LongN4 ;) till then))

Cytherea was getting ready to turn in for the night when a frantic knocking came at her door.  This was always the beginning of a long night.  She opened the door quickly, “Bring him inside and lay him next to the fire.”  The two men brought their brother who had been stabbed.  The man was obviously unconscious, and lost large amounts of blood, but nothing she had not seen before. 

The two young men in a frantic did what Cytherea said.  She never asked what happened, she usually didn’t want to know, she just healed the wounded.  Cytherea removed the remainder of the man’s tunic.  It was ripped already.  After that another knock came at the door.  It was a man and a very pregnant woman about to give birth.  Her gown soaked so it was obvious her water had already broken.  Still Cytherea bade them entrance as she asked the man to lay his wife on her bed.  The men whose brother was stabbed looked at Cytherea as she did rounds.  Going back and forth from their brother and the woman giving birth.  She gave instructions to the lady’s husband.  “I need you to take you hands and keep them here.”  The man looked scared to death.  “You want my hands where?” Cytherea rolled her eyes, “It’s obvious you have touched her there before, what makes this any different? Keep you hands here.” She then turned to the woman, my dear I need you to breathe your too late for my numbing herbs.  She pulled a cedar stick from behind her bed.  She placed it between the lady’s teeth.  “You’re going to bite down on this you hear?  Now push.”  The men whose brother was coming too.  “Cytherea, Jessie is waking.”  Cytherea rushed to kneel at the man’s side and pulled a poker from the wooden box and placed it in the fire.  She dumped water over the man’s chest. She cleaned the wound.  It was deep, She ushered the brother closest to her to take the clothe she handed him and keep pressure here.  The man did what he was told.  She then went back over to the woman breathing and a scared man afraid to touch his wife. 

“Move you worthless hope, she ushered the husband aside as she took place of him.  Putting her hand between the woman’s legs,  she lifted the woman’s dress,  the husband making a protest, “ Now’s not the time for modesty my dear, what’s your name,  making conversation was one way to keep the birthing mother at ease and occupied.”  “Elizabeth McCray… ohhhh!”  Cytherea,  nodded and laughed, pushed Elizabeth McCray, your crowning.  Pushhhh!  One more, that’s it!  Soon enough a slippery baby girl was in Cytherea’s hands and she offered the husband to cut the umbilical cord.  His denial was evident.  She took the dagger and soon the babe was free of mommy.  Giving the baby a good wack to the behind.  After she cleared the airway.  Once the shrill, high-pitch of the little ones life rang through out the cottage.  She cleaned her off and placed a clotting agent on the babe’s belly button.  Then wrapped her in one of her wool blankets and handed her off to her mommy.  “Well done Elizabeth McCray, well done.  Sorry to say you’ve more guts then your other half, Cytherea added in humor for them.  The man didn’t laugh though.  But Elizabeth choked back a smile.  Lie backs my dear I’ll be right back.”  She then went back to the three men.  The one lieing on the floor contious but dizzy.  She kneeled by his side. Her forehead wrinkled as she pulled the poke from the fire. She looked at the two others,  One man already had leather abound the mans mouth keeping sure the tongue wasn’t going backwards. “ I need you to keep him still”  She removed the man’s hand from the clotting stab wound on his chest.  “This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me I’m afraid.  Without any a dew she placed the poker to cauterize the wound.  A harsh sizzle and smell of cooking flesh filled the room.  The man was already growling.  “I am so, sorry for this.”  Cytherea said as she reapplied the poker then removed it from him.  Nodding for the two men to remove the leather. 

Working later on in the night after Cytherea made sure that the McCray’s were okay to go home,  she never gave a price, they just left what they felt necessary on the table.  Then the three brother’s left carrying their now mended but still uncontious/contious brother home.  He would be just fine other wise she wouldn’t of let them leave.  The sun was right over head just as she finished cleaning up, Cytherea was weary but satisfied of a job well done.  When the pressure was on was when she shined the most.  Like she knows they will want her when they need her.  She made new arrangements of her bed cleaning and drying her mattress and flipping it over.  She didn’t take time to change she just collapsed on the bed and went to sleep.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #17 on: September 25, 2010, 03:35:52 PM »
Cytherea whole body was stiff.  Her hair askew, her skirt and top wrinkled and soiled.  Cytherea sighed as she finally for the first time looked at her only table.  Five gold coins lay there next to her coin purse.  She raised, the catch in her back aching from last night’s leaning over.  She needed to change her clothes.  But, she desired a bath first.  It was dark the moon was full in the sky.  She must have slept the entire day.  That’s the last thing she wanted to do was get her days and nights mixed up like the McCray’s babe will soon do.  They always did.  She suspected they blame her for that as well.  She gathered a yellow bar of soap and a small bucket as she walked barefoot out the door. 


The grass was wet and cool beneath her feet, her hair lose about her shoulders running to the middle of her back.  She soon reached where the lake ran into the river.  The spot she always chose was secluded and cut off from the stream.  She couldn’t see her cottage, but it was her safe spot.  She has never been caught nor interrupted here.  Cytherea removed the solid top, revealing a chemise underneath.  Nothing but pure mesh material really, below was underwear.  So she was never naked here, Just indecent to anyone else’s eyes. 

The moon was flickering white moon beams on the water top as Cytherea swayed in the water waste high.  She wasn’t too skinny all the work she did around the cabin kept her body tone.  She never starved.  She was always blessed with that.  Cytherea dunked under once and rose.  The water running down her body like drops from heaven.  She took the soap and started to scrub her hair.  Then her face and moving down until she was soaped from head to tip.  She then dunked under once more.    The soap from her hair had made clear retreat into her eyes.  Causing them to burn.  She goes to rub them but she feels a breeze.  The coolness sending sharp shivers up her spine.  And something else.  She felt like she wasn’t the only here. 

Cytherea retreated under the water to hide her body.  Her soap free eyes surveyed what mother moon would let her see.  And what she saw was nothing.  Far be it for her to now start getting paranoid.  But still she gave a soft, “Hello?”  But only the sound of the forest and water and wind, was her only response.  Cytherea collected her self and went under once more.    “Fool I be, they live in fear and I live alone!.”  She chuckled and began a swim. The moon light giving her the freedom to see what was there to see

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #18 on: September 25, 2010, 09:05:36 PM »
-The morning before-

"Ugghhhhhhhhh" As with every morning Fritz dragged himself out of the fog of sleep half mentally yelling at himself to wake his lazy arse up, and half actually digging his fingers into his matress and sheets to actually physically drag himself out of bed. And as happened every morning he spent in a actual bed he fell from his soft matress onto the hard wooden floor with an loud dull *thud*.

"God be damned for making mornings.....damnit thats another hour in the confessors box." Gathering what little wits were available to him this early in the morning he took stock of his surroundings. The room that he rented was much the same as any other room he had stayed at while in the countryside: quaint, plain, and suprisingly well kept. It's walls were made from a brownish grey wood. There was his bed with its plain white sheets and pillows and matress stuffed with straw, next to it was a small wooden thing that could easily double as either a stool or a very small table. Elsewhere in the room was a empty shelf, a chest at the foot of the bed, and a proper table situated in the center of the room. From the windows Fritz could see the familiar purple, orange, and red washed sky that signified the beginning of dawn. He was slipping normally he wouldn't allow himself to sleep in so "late" into the day.

Exiting the room he threw his arms out in wild arcs to awaken them as well, and was pleased with the heat of warm blood rushing into his limbs as he made way to the Inn's baths. Preparing a bath was one of the first duties taught to the young Fritz during his trainee days, so he had little trouble stoking the fire beneath the copper tub, or in draining the tub, scrubbing it out, and in refilling it with the relatively clean water the inn provided for baths. Stripping down uncermoniously he took his bath. To him cleaning wasn't something to be enjoyed or savored, it was simply another chore to get out of the way so his baths tended to be quick, but thorough affairs that left his skin scrubbed almost to the point of rawness. With that out of the way he left the inn and began his day.

It was simple day, he tended to Pfeffer, listened in on village hearsay and gossip which proved to be quite interesting unlike most "witches" this Cytheria had as many of the commonfolk praising her as there were ones who were out for her blood. This wasn't neccasarily a good thing though he had encountered villages where some of the village folk had been charmed by a local witch. This was how he spent most of the day unobstrusively listening in on conversation. Until he met with the shoe maker's son the weasel seemed almost desperat to show him something.

"What is it now?" Fritz said in a tired  voice.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #19 on: September 27, 2010, 11:05:45 AM »
Johnson McCormick unlike most of the men here in this place.  This town was neither home for him or any of the like,  he was had no intention on following in his father’s foot steps.  He didn’t feel like becoming the “next shoe maker”  Although, he could make shoes and fix them.  He felt the work tedious and uneventful.  He desired something.  HE had first met this Cytherea and feel head over hills in love with her, but when she denied his desires.  He felt angry and figured that him seeing her and feeling this way from only seeing her once, that there was bewitching about it.  There was going to be consequences for her denial.  But how to convince a town that she was actually in ties with the devil.  You’d have to be in on a dark way of thinking as well.  He was bored as it was.  So if he had a chance to light a fire, might as well have fuel. This town needing to see some action and why not let pretty Cytherea take on a town gone mad?  He was more than able to stir this kettle. 

Johnson strolled out of behind his father’s shop.  He stood about 6’3’’.  Dark hair one could never truly distinguish if it was black or if it was brown.  But his eyes dark brown.  He wore a tan shirt made of a thick, canvases material.  His pants are leather.  Dark brown leather.  He wasn’t very skinny, nor was he built like a horse.  He saw Fritz walking out the inn and smiled.  He just needed to convince him.  He may need to get his hands dirty for this one. 


Cytherea had taken her time with her bath and the swim was even more relaxing then the bath alone.  She had then came from the water to only begin washing her clothes once she had finished she gathered everything back to her home.  The sun about to wake up.  Cytherea pulled out a long soft cotton black dress.  This dress she had made her self.  One of her favorites.  It was a long sleeve dress.  The weather becoming cooler now warmer clothes would be beneficial.  It was also adorn with a gold trimmed belt that had some kind of design she made out of a rougher material.  Along both sides she had adorned it with red leather ties. On her feet again were leather slippers that were grey.  Once she had dressed.  She took the wicker basket from below her table and went back out into the forest to collect more berries and nuts and other thing she will need.  She had to find more rocks to add to the garden and she needed to run back to town un- fortunately.  She never did this but considering there was a church inquisitor in town she may need to make a better effort to show these people of Hastings that there was really no witch amongst them.  Gathering the 5 gold coins in her change purse she turned and walked out the door locking it.  She lazily went in to the forest and saw that the dandelions were in bloom.  Sound like dandelion greens were on the menu tonight.  She began collecting them and humming softly to her self. 


« Last Edit: September 27, 2010, 11:08:55 AM by DementedPixie »

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #20 on: September 27, 2010, 11:11:57 AM »
((OOC:  The woman in the dress is not Cytherea,  however I couldn't find the dress by itself.  So ignore the woman in the dress and but the dress is what Cytherea is wearing.  I hope that makes sense))!

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #21 on: September 27, 2010, 11:27:35 AM »
(OOC: Gotcha, nice dress btw)

"Are you just going to stand there smiling like an idiot, and wasting my time or do you have something important to say?" The "witchhunter" leaned back against the outer wall of the inn awaiting Johnson's reply. He was attired like always plain shirt, breeches, and his overcoat; however a full nights worth of sleep did wonders for the young man. While he wasn't as big or as tall as McCormick he did have an air about him that suggested that he was much more ruthless, fierce, and savage than his bland demeanor let on.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #22 on: September 27, 2010, 12:14:38 PM »
Cytherea had a basket full of black berries, dandelion greens and a walnuts, her change purse dangling freely at her left hip.  The basket carried on Cytherea’s left arm.  Her hair blowing in the breeze about her shoulders, she came to town through the back way, leading down through the horse stables behind the Majesty.  She looked and saw a familiar beast. The grey spotted horse that was accompanied by the man who she directed here.  Could it be?  Was he this inquisitor?  He would be her first.  But, unlike taking the peoples comments with a grain of sand, This Fritz could very well break her.  But it wasn’t him she was concerned about right.  The more times she visits this town with out necessity, the more people talk.  Her thoughts went to the McCray’s.  She opened the back door to the Majesty and say old Mathew Millister, Daniel’s grandfather at the earth stealing biscuits and popping them quickly in his mouth.  His daughter Kathleen Malloy was no where to be seen.  When he looked left and saw Cytherea standing there with a mischievous grin on her face, he stepped away from the biscuits.  “Cytherea, what brings you here this morn?  Mathew said after he swallowed a sip of water. 

Johnson looked at Fritz with the smile he had on his face while thinking how to turn this town upside down.  “Good morn to you as well, the bed hold up to the majesty’s expectations?”  He said this chuckling. 

"Are you just going to stand there smiling like an idiot, and wasting my time or do you have something important to say?"


Johnson smirked grew as he tilted his head the opposite way to look at the young boy walking down the street.  He waved and Daniel Malloy drew near.  Johnson knelt down on one knee and placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder.  "You be turning 10 soon aye, what gifts will the witch give you this time ya wonder?"  Daniel backed away from the man and spat on the ground at Johnson feet and turned and looked very cooly at Fritz.  Before going inside the Majesty and stopping ony to see that Cytherea was standing there in the kitchen. Stealing biscuits with his grandfather.

 

Offline LongN4

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #23 on: September 27, 2010, 12:35:28 PM »
"Ah, a nursemaid giving a boy that she helped birth a gift for his birthday such a great crime that would be......" Annoyed Fritz returned to the inn not wanting to waste time with the weasel more than he had to, had he been that rotten when he was a lad? Most likely, but he didn't like to dwell on that disturbing thought and pushed it out of his mind. Sitting down at a empty table he leaned back and watched the regulars of the taverns take their meals and drink while he waited for his own meal, and then he saw something strange the young woman he had met yesterday he could spot glimpses of her in the tavern's kitchen she was laughing and from the looks of it teasing an old man. The little boy who regarded him so coldly soon also entered the kitchen and joined in the merriment.

Two old friends, or two bewitched victims now which could it be...........regardless he smiled he seldom saw people actually enjoy themselves, especially during times like these, and regardless of whether it was the result of witchcraft or genuine friendship it was still quite the touching scene.

Offline DementedPixieTopic starter

Re: They Call her Witch
« Reply #24 on: September 27, 2010, 12:53:52 PM »
Cytherea popped a couple of biscuits in her mouth after she gave Mathew a hug.  “Good morn I’ve been warned there is talking of me  ...Again.  The McCray’s have a new baby girl.  And the Absinth Brothers came to her…Again for another stabbed wound.  Why is it always the middle brother who gets roughed up?”  Cytherea was chuckling as Daniel walked in and stopped with the paleness of a ghost.  “Cytherea good morning.”  Cytherea came to Daniel giving him a hug.  “Good morning dear,” She said smiling.  Kathleen walked into the kitchen, in the majesty’s attire an apron over her front dress and her hair done up.  She gave Cytherea a sly smile as she nudges Daniel from her embrace.  “Go on now; leave the woman to her business.”  Daniel then left his spot and went in search of fire wood.  While Cytherea greeted Kathleen warmly.  “How is Jessup?”  Kathleen shrugged her shoulders softly.  “He is still a sleep. The cattle are always a want for something.  But luckily we got us a big bull this morn.  He be cutting it up and you’ll have meat for this winter.”  Cytherea nodded softly and poured the 5 gold coins from her purse and gave them to Kathleen happily.  Kathleen pocketed 3 and gave the two back.  It wasn’t that bad this time.  Cytherea nodded happily.  She turned and out the corner of her eye she saw him.  The man she directed here.  She smirked softly and decided to go out the way she came.  “I’ll be back later…”  Cytherea went out the door and turned back towards the stables.  To stop at the mans horse.