Hag Slavers! – Sheryl, the Fae-Touched – 3.06.2020

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Never trust hags.

This is what Sheryl believed with every fibre of her being. It is why she took the job when she, Arkadius, Taz and Markas found themselves at the newly established city watch headquarters in Port Ffirst. Everyone in the Dawnlands knew how dangerous they were. Not even Serpentine’s talk of “not all hags” could convince her otherwise.

The five of them were enjoying a quick brunch before setting off to the Frog Bog as it was only a couple hours earlier that Sheryl and the other three had returned from the Shadowfell. She was picking at the last bits of her eggs royale when she noticed Serpentine wasn’t at their table anymore. She looked around, trying to see where the blue tiefling went when there was a small commotion and the duo who were playing and reading poetry were no longer on the small stage in the Flourished Hook’s lounge. Instead, Serpentine in her casual clothes, short sleeved tunic with Infernal writing across it, was looking out at the full establishment with a strange expression on her face.

        So, how does this work?
        How long will it take for my name to trend?
        Do I have to be actively well connected,
        or will this be determined
        by the manner of my death?
        Do I get any say in my legacy?
        How long will it take
        for my bones to decompose into an idea?
        How long before my name becomes a
        cautionary tale?
        How long before my name becomes a
        movement?
        How long till poets quote my name
        in poems for dramatic effect?
        Will I be the only one trending that week?

Their table starts clapping and cheering a good beat before anyone else. Serpentine looks at them, their genuine enthusiasm surprising her. But then her devil-may-care smile spreads across her face again as the other tables start to join in the applause. Serpentine steps off the stage, the original performers huffing at being upstaged by some random person. A smirk spreads across the fae-bard’s face.

“Would you like to ride with Astra and me Serpentine?” Sheryl asks her once they are outside. Arkadius was just mounting Sasha and Taz was finishing saddling his own war horse. Markas said he would be fine to jog to keep up with them.

Serpentine looks at Astra, who stares back unblinkingly at the tiefling before she says, “Yeah, sure.”

She must not hate you that much anymore, Merla, Astra says to her telepathically.

I think it’s because she thinks you are very glamorous. Serpentine seems to like that sort of style, Sheryl says back, a little ruefully.

Astra tosses her mane as the two of them mount up. It is one of my more defining features, yes.

Sheryl shakes her head with a smile.

They set off cautiously, getting to the point on the road that runs between the coastal town of Port Ffirst and Daring Heights where signs warn about the will ’o the wisps.

Don’t follow the lights.

No, really. DON’T FOLLOW THE LIGHTS.

They lead their mounts off the path past these signs and just as they can no longer see the main road they stop. Serpentine sends her familiar Monty forward, cloaked in invisibly. He is gone for a time, Serpentine looking through his eyes, before she says he’s found a bullywug fishing.

“Do we go around him or try to talk to him?” Markas asks.

“I think we should try talking to him,” Serpentine says.

They approach the creature and he goes on the defence at once. But a soothing word or two from Serpentine makes him lower his small spear.

Curauk, as Sheryl understands the creature’s name to be, says the hags they are looking for have been helping them. Their village’s defences are stronger, they follow their lead, and they help protect them from the “dry skins”.

“Hags are lovely creatures,” Serpentine agrees with the bullywug and he smiles.

Is she serious? Astra asks, glancing back at her mistress.

The bard keeps her face neutral, but her voice is cautionary. Unfortunately, she is. Be on your guard Astra.

“Only people who are peaceful can come,” Curauk croaks. “Are you peaceful?”

“We wish to see them,” Sheryl nods, answering cryptically. The bullywug gives her a narrow look but her face is a mask of pleasantness, so he finds it hard to tell if the small woman is lying.

“We would like to speak to them, and talk peacefully,” Serpentine confirms from behind her. Sheryl smiles, pretending to agree but in her gut she feels it won’t end well for them if they do.

“Alright,” the bullywug says. “I will show you the way. Come!” He tucks his small spear under his arm and starts to walk-hop and lead them through the treacherous bog. The small creature only takes them so far though, claiming he needs to stay and watch his portion of the bog. However he does give them instructions on how to get the rest of the way, safely to the village.

“Take this,” he says, passing a tooth on a bit of leather cord to Serpentine. “It will mean you were given directions. That you mean no harm.” Curauk nods and then goes back the way he came, the fog in the bog swallowing him quicker than should be naturally possible.

Once again, the group of them tries to stealth forward, guided by Curauk’s instructions, making sure to lead their mounts through a bog that normally would not be traversed on mounts. Sheryl stays quiet the closer they get to the village, rarely communicating with Astra except to help point out most things the winged unicorn already has noticed herself.

Though the bog is deep, coming up to Astra’s knees in some places, Markas is able to walk on the surface, nearly eye level with those on horseback. He looks to Sheryl and gives a little half shrug that seems to say Monk Stuff and keeps pace no problem with them all. It’s the fog that’s the most disorienting. It plays with their depth of vision and even with his eyepatch that helps him perceive things better, Arkadius is only just able to make out a group of bullywugs trying to hide from them as they approach.

Serpentine sends Monty forward once again, carrying the tooth necklace. They approach soon afterwards hands not on weapons despite her desire to hold onto either her harp or dancing blade. This is a performance, Sheryl reminds herself. They are greeted by a female bullywug wearing an unusual crown made of twigs and swamp matter, that has eyes from different animals decorating it. Seeing it sends a shudder through Sheryl and in her mind a half forgotten memory flashes across it.

(Pain. Darkness. The bitter taste of metal.)

“Whaaaat do you waaaant with us?” the crowned bullywug asks them.

“We wish to speak to the hags,” Sheryl says. In the still silence the fae-bard swears she sees the eyes of the crown all look in her direction.

“Hmmmm,” the bullywug says in response. She looks around at the others, scrutinising each of them. “Come on further in.”

They start to go forward but Markas and Taz hear something from a hut and go toward it. The two of them are looking through what are clearly bars but Sheryl doesn’t indicate to Astra to move over towards them.

“This way,” the crowned bullywug calls back to them, stopping to watch what they will do. Sheryl barely hears Markas say, “We’ll come back to this,” before the two of them follow their bullywug escort once more. They get to just outside the largest hut when they start to slow down, not wanting to approach. The eyes on the crown shift and the bullywug turns around a capricious twinkle to her eyes.

“Why don’t you come closer?” she asks.

“Why don’t you ask the hags to come out here?” Taz shoots back.

Her tongue subtly pokes out to lick her lips. “What are your names?”

“My name is Taz. What’s yours frog?” Taz says, flexing his muscles attempting to intimidate the small creature. The bullywug replies but a note of dread creeps into Sheryl’s mind.

Be ready to act on a moment’s notice Astra. Her friend lifts her foreleg slightly and then drops it down, the subtle indication she’s ready. Sheryl dismounts and starts to follow Serpentine and the others into the hut. She casts one last look to Astra, saying, If it’s safer for you to keep to the skies do so. But try to watch out for Sacha and… Horse. Then she enters.

What she sees confirms her worries as they have suddenly manifested clear as day in front of them.

The bullywug has dropped her disguise and instead the face of a green hag greets them. Sheryl’s breathing becomes short and shallow for a moment before she calms herself down, spine straight. The hag starts speaking to her friends, and Sheryl knows her words are false, but Serpentine is still trying to push for them to hear them out. Wanting, no, needing to know she’s not mistaken in her distrust Sheryl pulls out her copper coin to try to Detect the hag’s Thoughts but she senses the magic being cast and it fizzes out before Sheryl can fully cast the spell.

“Ah ah,” the hag tisks. “None of that.”

Sheryl moves back and stands behind Arkadius cursing herself a fool for thinking she could get away with doing the spell in front of the hag like that.

“I’m sorry,” Serpentine says, then shoots her a look. “Despite what my companion just did, we do just want to talk.”

“Indeed,” sniffs the hag. “Well, then. Let’s talk. I don’t think I got all of your names.” She looks around at Sheryl’s friends. “I am… Essie.”

Sheryl feels a panic start to rise within her.

“I’m Serpentine,” says the blue tiefling and the words on her shirt shift to another phrase in Infernal Sheryl cannot read.

You are a fool Serpen–

“My name is Markas,” the half-elf says, and Sheryl looks at him, shocked.

No! Stop! Don’t say your names!

Arkadius stands in front of her and shifts. Essie looks at him expectantly and in a panic Sheryl lightly but firmly pulls on his wings.

“OW!” he exclaims. “What the bloodyhell was that for?!” He turns and looks down at Sheryl but she’s not looking at him, her focus is entirely on the hag. Defiance clear in the set of her brow.

Essie shrugs, feigning indifference. “You asked why we attacked the mercantile caravans. We did so for the spider silk. The merchants take advantage of the bullywugs. We are uninterested in fair trade. What we want,” she pauses and again that capricious glint to her eyes sets Sheryl’s heart beating, “is recognition. We want an in to Port Ffirst.”

It’s true that you want to be recognised, but there’s something else. Why are you interested in Port Ffirst? There’s something you’re not telling us...

“We are protecting the coastal city,” Essie continues. “Port Ffirst needs a truce and we can help them with that. In return you’ll help us get the recognition we want, maybe even some gold… and a way into the city.”

“But what about the merchants?” Markas asks. Sheryl can see he is catching onto what the hag is saying – that she is hiding something.

Essie pauses to consider the question. “We could stop killing the merchants, but only if you say you’ll help us.”

“No, you have you stop killing the merchants that is not something up for negotiation,” growls Taz. “Why are we even having this discussion?” He turns and asks the others.

“I could give you the in you want,” Serpentine offers.

“Don’t.”

They all stop and turn towards Sheryl. As she steps out from behind Arkadius, the green hag grins at her, licking her lips. The fae bard shoots a warning look to Serpentine and continues, speaking a bit softer, “Do not do that Serpentine. Please.”

There is silence in the hut for a moment.

“Finally she speaks,” Essie grins. “I can deal in Information then instead. Take this for example,” She turns, her arm reaching farther than it should have been able to extend. She picks up a pebble from a table by the fireplace and holds it in front of her face. “Devils are using them to open rifts. If you destroy these you’ll destroy the rifts.” Her gnarled green hand then holds it out and Serpentine takes it. There is a flash of infernal symbols but otherwise the pebble looks like any other black indistinct stone.

“Port Ffirst needs a truce if they are to survive what is coming,” Essie says with a leer to the others. “Why don’t you take a look at what I mean, dear through your other eyes,” she coos to Serpentine.

Sheryl and the others look to the blue tiefling as her eyes go white and she exhales a soft, “Oh.” When her eyes return back to normal, Serpentine looks at Essie and a curious expression crosses her face.

“Interesting,” is all she says.

Sheryl has had enough.

“There will be no deals. No recognition. No gold. NOTHING,” Sheryl says to Essie, her voice deeper and more commanding than any of the others had ever heard before. “You say you have been protecting Port Ffirst and yet you attack and kill their merchants because you can. You say you can help protect innocent people from what’s to come, but at a price. A good creature would not manipulate people whilst claiming to offer their help in protecting innocent lives. You and your ilk are not good creatures. Hags are always the same, wanting to strike a bargain for their own gain and no one else's. There will be no deal.”

There’s a crackling of chaotic fey energy around Sheryl as she speaks, a heady heat that comes off of her in waves. Taz comes up beside her.

“Finally, someone is talking some sense!” He grins down at Sheryl, whose attention is solely focused on Essie. “Guess that’s that then.”

“A pity,” Essie says, and starts to wave her hands, muttering a spell under her breath.

Sheryl was ready for her, quickly drawing out a slashing symbol with her fingers to counter the spell directed at Taz. But then she started to feel her own Counterspell being stopped when Arkadius stepped in with his own spell cancelling symbol. From behind the Green Hag there appeared a bone white and blue woman, winter’s chill emanating from her. Sheryl had never seen a Bheur Hag before but she had heard tales of them in the Summer Court. The Unseelie Fey’s grin was almost too wide for her face and Sheryl nearly thought the moment was lost when Serpentine helped them almost flippantly casting her own Counterspell. But then in the next moment, a third and final woman, the last hag of the coven, appeared, the bits of seaweed clinging to her dripping onto the floor. She looked to be drooling as she waved her hand and countered Serpentine’s Counterspell, letting out a burbling laugh as she did so.

“Well well well,” Essie cackles, “Seems like we’re at-”

Taz steps up to her and starts to ferociously slash into the Green Hag. The momentary standoff is broken and the quickest battle Sheryl has ever been in commences.

A Cone of Cold is blasted at them by the Bheur Hag, which Sheryl manages to withstand, the fury of the confrontation along with the heat of Summer she holds within her veins protecting her. Meanwhile, Taz continues to attack Essie whilst Arkadius drops a Fireball in the midst of the three Hags that catches them all alight. Taking inspiration from her best friend, Sheryl follows up with her own psychic energy blast. It does not do as much damage as the fire, but her focus is keeping her friends safe so she inspires Taz to finish off Essie. She nearly missed seeing the Sea Hag cast a spell though. When she tries to counter it the Winter Hag catches her again with her own counterspell.

“Not this time, Summer child.” Her voice has the sound of cracking ice and the hairs on Sheryl’s neck stand on end.

To her dismay, Sheryl sees the Sea Hag finish her spell and turn away from the battle in the hut towards the portal she opened. As she does, flames start to consume her and she screams before she shouts out, “I am not here to ask a question. Only to let you know… you have a way in through us.” The Sea Hag gives one final cry and is then engulfed in flames, reduced to a burnt crisp as the portal that she opened closes.

Oh no…

Markas rushes towards the Bheur Hag, stunning her with a fist to her side and then slicing into her with his katana. As his elegant sword cuts through the ice on her body she looks up at him and that too wide grin spreads across her face again.

“Have fun… dealing… with Her,” she exhales. Her form collapses and shatters into hundreds of pieces of ice as she hits the ground. Markas turns towards Sheryl and they share a look. The set of his brow full of worry, whilst the dark disquiet at what the Unseelie Fey said makes her throat run dry.

It is happening now. Zariel is coming, or is already here with the armies of Avernus at her back.

On the heels of that comes another thought, more a prayer than anything.

Oh Mother, Great Queen of Summer and Seelie Fey... let me be able to see you again.