"What's this about witches?" asks Ling, "Got a lot of questions, really."
The svelte man stares at Ling, but she does not turn away. He does not blink, but she can't either.
"I'd rather not stare in a mirror all night, b*****d, says Ling, "Just write it down if you have to."
D: You weren't scared? L: Why would I? I've fought worse. Outsiders, ghost. His mindwarp aura was bodgie as sh-
The svelte man twitches and bends one arm the wrong way around to retrieve a set of parchments from his back. He awkwardly swings arm back around to present it to Ling.
L: Bloke just couldn't talk. Still don't know what he was.
The first crude drawing depicts three beings in pointy hats - one of whom is a furry creature of some kind- standing under a purple swirl that shines a light upon them. The second shows a goblin being lifted into the spiral. The third shows one of the pointy hats throwing a sword into a lake.
A: Ioana? L: Couldn't tell from his sucky drawing.
"Strewth, that's b****y clear," says Ling, "So what's your role, tall, dark, and spooky?"
The next picture is of the svelte man climbing/falling out of the spiral. Then one of several different small crying beings surrounded by eyes and teeth in the spiral. Finally, the svelte man being hit with beams from the pointy hats.
J: And you believed him? L: Enough to believe in witches.
"So, where are they?" asks Ling.
The svelte man twitches and jerks his body behind a tree.
"Ya could just draw me a f*****g map!" yells Ling as she scans the area for him. "Or just point!" She spots him leaning behind another. "Really going to make me chase ya?"
Ling follows the svelte man as he zigs and zags across the woods until he reaches a clearing with a small broken metal windmill barely standing in its center.
Ling detects the magic runes hidden in the dirt. This place is trapped to Hell and back. As the svelte man disappears again, the silence remains; nature itself is afraid of this place.
L: Laker and Faceboy could've been lying, but I'd only find the good oil probing these witches. J: And probe them, I'm sure you did.
L: What Ioana said was suspicious; so after she and Tanglepork fell asleep, I took a look 'round.
While setting off magic detection like a radar, Ling creeps through the house. She scrutinizes every trinket and trophy that crosses her sight. The house is too small to hide anything, but, alas, her search finds naught.
Stepping outside, the cold night air greets her bare head. It is an annoying reminder that she left it in the bedroom, too risky to fetch now.
Ling circles the cabin, checking the walls. However, the building is quite normal. While a part of Ling is relieved, another is frustrated. This dead end was a waste of the children's precious time.
Suddenly, the woods grew quiet. The wind stops, the bugs fall still. A presence, Ling feels; someone lurks amongst the trees.
"Yo," Ling calls out to the unknown. She quickly walks in its direction. "Wait, mate."
The presence does not wait.
When Ling reaches where she felt it, there is only a piece of parchment stuck to a tree. It says: Beware the Witches.
"What witches, mate?" asks Ling, "Gonna need a better b****y clue than that."
D: What are witches? J: It depends on the time. It was originally a political term used to oppress: an accusation of subservience to evil power. L: Then some claimed it as a rebellious term and some drongos thought 'evil power' sounded cool. A: And then evil powers thought more mortal servants sounded cool. J: Then other powers decided to do it too. L: So now it means a mortal who gets magic from some boss. J: Or feminist alchemists. A: Morality of any party involved: undefined. D: ...So, bad? L: Yes, this time bad.
Again, Ling could feel something deeper in the woods. She opens a door in space to its location.
The entity, a well-dressed, elvenoid over twice Ling's height with lanky limbs to match, stands hunched over affixing another paper to a tree. Its head twists around bearing Ling's own face.
"G'ev'ning," says Ling, "Nice to meet ya."