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"Why would even a witch live in such a horrible place?" He complained as he jabbed the stick into the marsh water, and grunted, pushing his raft forward along the water. Amidst trees submerged in murky water, a lone man dressed in basic plate armor with the symbol of god etched into the breast navigated through the swamp water on a raft he was forced to design himself for safer, and faster travel through the dangerous terrain. The sky above was dark gray, making it appear as if it were close to night, when in fact it was high noon, giving the scenery of the marsh an even darker perspective, not to mention dangerous.
Grunting again as he jabbed his stick to the bottom of the marsh, using his legs, shoulders, and every motion of his body to push, accelerated the raft further through the murky water. "I can't seem to get used to this awful smell either... The witch that lives here must be truly miserable." he said to himself, as there was no other with him to make conversation. But upon seeing a droplet of water gather, and seemingly fall from nothing, he jabbed his stick in deep, bringing his raft to a full stop as terror gripped him. Looking around where the droplet fell, his face paled as he saw the terrifying sight of a giant spider hanging from one of her threads. Turning about, he quickly went to find a way around her webbing.
Goosebumps along his skin, and his breathing quickened, he kept looking back at the arachne he left behind. He was half afraid she would begin chasing him. But she still remained in place, hanging from her thread as her red eyes watched him go, sending a dread chill up his spine. "I want to turn back..." he announced with a terrified voice. And since then, every so often he'd lift his stick from the water to wave it in front of the raft at every possible location of an arachne's web. Never for a moment did he stop being afraid of being bitten by one... Or eaten.
But a few minutes later, and he found signs of civilization come into view, as well as dry land. With joy, he pushed his raft up until it slid along the ground, and became still, before dropping the stick onto the raft, and running onto the firm, solid ground with relief. "Finally! I'm here! Laohi, the swamp town!" he boasted with pride, very happy to have had a safe trip without being attacked. And the very first thing he'd do, is ask the village folk about the whereabouts of the witch that troubles them. "To become a proud member of the Inquisition, I will slay this witch!" he announced with vigor.
Demeter, low on supplies for her home, was yet again, one of the many times of the long years she's spent living in such a dreadful biome, forced to leave the solitude of her shack in order to bring her trade to the closest town, and see to purchasing the filling, if not miserable food the frugal villagers had to offer. Following the dry path through the marsh that lead straight to the town, Demeter would notice something strange about the town from a distance. The villagers appeared as if something interesting had happened, and were leaving their shacks to investigate, each headed in a similar direction.
Gathering around, but not getting too close, the villagers silently observed a foreign figure that walked on their land. Brown, winged hair split down the middle, what appeared to be a noble walked through the shabby streets. Dressed in white leather, and small, steel plated armor that protected his most vital points, a small white mantle around his shoulders flowed elegantly behind him, bearing the ornate design of the church, the holy cross, on the cape.
He looked at the villagers with interest, and even approached them with a curious, raised hand before they would back away from him. Confused, the man continued to try and ask each person he laid eyes on a question he truly seemed to want to ask. With a worried expression, Demeter was approached next by him.
"Excuse me," he inquired to her, "I'm here to slay the witch that has been reported to be here... Could you tell me where she is?" he asked her with what could possibly be explained as the most blunt, and innocent tone she had ever seen. There was no poison nor hatred on his tongue. He seemed like a mere boy playing 'slay the witch' on a dare by his friends, and seemed rather fearless about doing it. Nervous, but with a kind smile, he awaited Demeter's reaction.
Grunting again as he jabbed his stick to the bottom of the marsh, using his legs, shoulders, and every motion of his body to push, accelerated the raft further through the murky water. "I can't seem to get used to this awful smell either... The witch that lives here must be truly miserable." he said to himself, as there was no other with him to make conversation. But upon seeing a droplet of water gather, and seemingly fall from nothing, he jabbed his stick in deep, bringing his raft to a full stop as terror gripped him. Looking around where the droplet fell, his face paled as he saw the terrifying sight of a giant spider hanging from one of her threads. Turning about, he quickly went to find a way around her webbing.
Goosebumps along his skin, and his breathing quickened, he kept looking back at the arachne he left behind. He was half afraid she would begin chasing him. But she still remained in place, hanging from her thread as her red eyes watched him go, sending a dread chill up his spine. "I want to turn back..." he announced with a terrified voice. And since then, every so often he'd lift his stick from the water to wave it in front of the raft at every possible location of an arachne's web. Never for a moment did he stop being afraid of being bitten by one... Or eaten.
But a few minutes later, and he found signs of civilization come into view, as well as dry land. With joy, he pushed his raft up until it slid along the ground, and became still, before dropping the stick onto the raft, and running onto the firm, solid ground with relief. "Finally! I'm here! Laohi, the swamp town!" he boasted with pride, very happy to have had a safe trip without being attacked. And the very first thing he'd do, is ask the village folk about the whereabouts of the witch that troubles them. "To become a proud member of the Inquisition, I will slay this witch!" he announced with vigor.
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Chapter 1: The Inquisition
Chapter 1: The Inquisition
Demeter, low on supplies for her home, was yet again, one of the many times of the long years she's spent living in such a dreadful biome, forced to leave the solitude of her shack in order to bring her trade to the closest town, and see to purchasing the filling, if not miserable food the frugal villagers had to offer. Following the dry path through the marsh that lead straight to the town, Demeter would notice something strange about the town from a distance. The villagers appeared as if something interesting had happened, and were leaving their shacks to investigate, each headed in a similar direction.
Gathering around, but not getting too close, the villagers silently observed a foreign figure that walked on their land. Brown, winged hair split down the middle, what appeared to be a noble walked through the shabby streets. Dressed in white leather, and small, steel plated armor that protected his most vital points, a small white mantle around his shoulders flowed elegantly behind him, bearing the ornate design of the church, the holy cross, on the cape.
He looked at the villagers with interest, and even approached them with a curious, raised hand before they would back away from him. Confused, the man continued to try and ask each person he laid eyes on a question he truly seemed to want to ask. With a worried expression, Demeter was approached next by him.
"Excuse me," he inquired to her, "I'm here to slay the witch that has been reported to be here... Could you tell me where she is?" he asked her with what could possibly be explained as the most blunt, and innocent tone she had ever seen. There was no poison nor hatred on his tongue. He seemed like a mere boy playing 'slay the witch' on a dare by his friends, and seemed rather fearless about doing it. Nervous, but with a kind smile, he awaited Demeter's reaction.