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From the Shadows, of the Shadows.

As you are busy contemplating your choices, you notice what appear to be a pair of yellow, glowing eyes in the shadows behind the thrown. The witch notices your distraction and whirls around to face whatever may be lurking in the darkness.

"Show yourself!" She shrieks, quite annoyed buy the intrusion. A tall being, made entirely of shadow, hovers forward, dark tendrils at its base lashing about.

"Why, mother," it hisses, "Is that any way to greet you own little baby boy?"

The witch is seized with a sudden fury, and jabs her finger at speaking shadow, proclaiming that, "I KILLED you, you illegitimate bastard-child! Centuries ago! You're dead!"

The shadow simply sighed, and cocking its head to the side muttered "Yes, I am. Quite dead indeed."

At this point, you're not quite sure who's more dangerous, the witch, or what seems to be the ghost of her son. Either way, you should probably use this unhappy reunion as a chance to escape, so you edge over to Jessie and nudge her. She catches your drift, and you both make your way as inconspicuously as possible to the door.

Meanwhile, the enraged witch demands an explanation from the specter. “Gladly,” it replies, and tells her, “Death, quite ticked with the fact that you have eluded him for so long, offered me a proposition. I may remain in the realm of the living… So long as I deliver you to him!” Suddenly, its tendrils lashed out at the witch, wrapping around her many times over, particularly her throat. Un-able to speak her words of power or make magical gestures, she struggles and gasps in vain to free herself. Eventually, the ghost’s strength (Does anyone other than me see the irony in that?) wins out, and the witch’s lifeless body is allowed to slump to the floor, where it dissolves into dust.

Everyone, even you, are shocked by this turn of events. That one werewolf breaks the silence. “Are you going to turn us back?”

“Turn you back?!” hisses the ghost, “Consider yourselves lucky I’m leaving you alive. Unlike my ‘dearly’ departed mother, I do not require the aid and livery of a horde of deformed slaves. Now leave me- and this castle… Now!”

Another werebeast steps forward, crying, “But where will we go?! People will lock us up if they see us!”

Now very annoyed, the ghost mutters, “You’re in the middle of Europe, surrounded my miles and miles of undeveloped forests and mountain-ranges. Don’t tell me you can’t find somewhere to hide! Besides, with my mother dead, it’s quite possible the spells she used on the lot of you will wear off- Now out!”

And so out you, Jessie, and a bunch of werebeasts go. After all, who knows what the witch’s son could do? Curiously, the door disappears behind you as you leave. Obviously, the ghost is intent on not being bothered. But you still have to solve the dilemma of what happens to yourself, not to mention your girlfriend and a band of rather distressed archeologists.


Written by Sigil

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