D
Daniella_Belli
Guest
Original poster
"As the story goes, this hideous, twisted creature could melt the very flesh of a man into a mere candy like substance. I've told it to my daughter several times as to scare her into staying put at night, and still she doesn't seem utterly repulsed by the fairytale! Dare I say, she is fascinated with the foul witch!" Ariseea gasped, shocked of the way her daughter had reacted, as if the little girl had become something possessed by evil influences. "Groondi shows no distaste for witches!" The woman exclaimed, the remaining word dancing dangerously upon her lips, without having been quelled. She assumed the stares of all, the wide eyed masses with mouths falling slack and tankards hovering in a partial ascent to their lips.
"By the Gods, have mercy on my daughter." She prayed in a shaky whisper, as a few patrons rose as to scour the streets for Groondi. The woman's single offsring was still toying with the strange contraption, the green faced witch straddling a broom soaring as high as the child's hands would extend. The black, conical hat which sat upon the wooden figure reflected wear in such a way as it had been dropped, but it seemed the only harm to come of the girl's clumsiness. On the way to meet one named Wilbert, she passed by the steriotypical rendering of a gruesome wooden doll as it whizzed by, the child twirling about as to enclose her, cackles erupting from Groondi to give the effigy a voice. "N-nice marionette you've got there, but the strings seem broken."
Candie spoke in a relaxed tone, words stumbling only once upon her lips. "Yes, I've freed it from the reigns which bind it!" Groondi proclaimed, as if she had performed a heroic action in severing the threads that had made it a controllable puppet. "Not all witches look like that, you know. Witches come in various forms." Candie announced, her face retreated just enough so that she couldn't possibly be observed by Groondi. "They do?" One could easily detect excitement in her tone, Groondi's tiny footfalls swiftly approaching Candie. "Why are you out so late?" The heavily concealed female asked, realizing that the child should have been tucked away within her home, as per the the curfew set by her guardians. "I look to the moon, to see if a witch flies by it. Never saw one yet." She shrugged, her muddy brown gaze kept watch upon the great acromatic orb in the sky. "What name do you own?"
"Groondi Gabaldi." The youth seemed all too eager to divulge the information to the stranger whom inquired, without a note of hesitation despite the fact the Crier had been carrying on about such a scandal that wrought the town in disarray. Candie turned the corner, leaving Groondi and the figure the girl clutched to her bosom, behind. It was an odd sight to see, as if see were standing vigil over the heavens, as if embracing the last remaining hope that a dearly departed could find their way back upon the temporal plane. The Blacksmith seemed less than pleased at her arrival, greeting her with a harsh announcement that he was in preparation to close shop. He eyed her lurid cloak with disapproval, as if he detested the hue entirely. "Did you happen upon Sheaman?" She specified the individual she seemed to be in search of, and he was stricken by silence for several moments, as well as paralysis which restrained his body from performing any movement. "Who wants to know?" His suspicion was welling up within him, his gaze meeting the hidden face sternly. "I am not a foe, if that's what you're wondering." She replied, her words relaying ease of the opposite concept of being his adversary. "Pray tell, is he in some sort of trouble?"
She wound down Wilbert's defenses, like the tedious chisling away at the entrance of an almost completely indomitable fortress. "No, not as far as I could tell. He's had some problems with thieves coveting his weapons, but I've replaced them for him." Candie inched nearer, causing the man to shy away from the fabric which was obscene to his vision. "Goodfield? I know him." Admitted the eavesdropper upon their conversation, as he stepped out of the shadows. "Poor fellow had his daggers stolen, thieves are thick within this realm. Everybody's looking for free commodities, seeking to aquire wealth by false means."
"By the Gods, have mercy on my daughter." She prayed in a shaky whisper, as a few patrons rose as to scour the streets for Groondi. The woman's single offsring was still toying with the strange contraption, the green faced witch straddling a broom soaring as high as the child's hands would extend. The black, conical hat which sat upon the wooden figure reflected wear in such a way as it had been dropped, but it seemed the only harm to come of the girl's clumsiness. On the way to meet one named Wilbert, she passed by the steriotypical rendering of a gruesome wooden doll as it whizzed by, the child twirling about as to enclose her, cackles erupting from Groondi to give the effigy a voice. "N-nice marionette you've got there, but the strings seem broken."
Candie spoke in a relaxed tone, words stumbling only once upon her lips. "Yes, I've freed it from the reigns which bind it!" Groondi proclaimed, as if she had performed a heroic action in severing the threads that had made it a controllable puppet. "Not all witches look like that, you know. Witches come in various forms." Candie announced, her face retreated just enough so that she couldn't possibly be observed by Groondi. "They do?" One could easily detect excitement in her tone, Groondi's tiny footfalls swiftly approaching Candie. "Why are you out so late?" The heavily concealed female asked, realizing that the child should have been tucked away within her home, as per the the curfew set by her guardians. "I look to the moon, to see if a witch flies by it. Never saw one yet." She shrugged, her muddy brown gaze kept watch upon the great acromatic orb in the sky. "What name do you own?"
"Groondi Gabaldi." The youth seemed all too eager to divulge the information to the stranger whom inquired, without a note of hesitation despite the fact the Crier had been carrying on about such a scandal that wrought the town in disarray. Candie turned the corner, leaving Groondi and the figure the girl clutched to her bosom, behind. It was an odd sight to see, as if see were standing vigil over the heavens, as if embracing the last remaining hope that a dearly departed could find their way back upon the temporal plane. The Blacksmith seemed less than pleased at her arrival, greeting her with a harsh announcement that he was in preparation to close shop. He eyed her lurid cloak with disapproval, as if he detested the hue entirely. "Did you happen upon Sheaman?" She specified the individual she seemed to be in search of, and he was stricken by silence for several moments, as well as paralysis which restrained his body from performing any movement. "Who wants to know?" His suspicion was welling up within him, his gaze meeting the hidden face sternly. "I am not a foe, if that's what you're wondering." She replied, her words relaying ease of the opposite concept of being his adversary. "Pray tell, is he in some sort of trouble?"
She wound down Wilbert's defenses, like the tedious chisling away at the entrance of an almost completely indomitable fortress. "No, not as far as I could tell. He's had some problems with thieves coveting his weapons, but I've replaced them for him." Candie inched nearer, causing the man to shy away from the fabric which was obscene to his vision. "Goodfield? I know him." Admitted the eavesdropper upon their conversation, as he stepped out of the shadows. "Poor fellow had his daggers stolen, thieves are thick within this realm. Everybody's looking for free commodities, seeking to aquire wealth by false means."