Lenelle’s eyes frantically darted around the room, which she guessed served as a kitchen for cooking their food and spells. She saw Skye curled inside the cage and hovering on the edge of consciousness. Simon’s head lolled as the witches gagged him. Sundos stared back with nerve wracked blue eyes. In the corner was a wash basin which held a nude and barely conscious Connor. His skin looked freshly scrubbed.

Irma and Constance obeyed Granny’s order and opened a cellar door in a far corner. At first, she thought it was odd that anyone would have a cellar in a swamp. Then, a theory began forming, but before she could pursue it, she saw the “watchdogs”. They lumbered heavily up old wooden steps, the boards creaking under their considerable weight. Two Ogres leading a Flesh Golem. The Golem looked like a grotesque patchwork of body parts. The scaly torso once belonged to a Lizardman. The thickly muscled arms were Orcish. Lenelle noticed that the Golem was headless…until Granny walked over to the butcher table topped by Georg’s corpse.

Granny Grimfiddle raised a fearsome meat cleaver and brought it down with a heavy *THUNK*. She walked back to the Golem and set Georg’s head on the shoulders. With the sprinkle of a powder and the mumbling of Fey words, the head attached to the Golem with a thick, wet sound. “The ritual is finally complete,” Granny said with a satisfied nod. Georg suddenly blinked, then stared at Lenelle with eyes devoid of any life or consciousness.

“Take the Dog and go see to our guests. Kill the males. Bring me the cat and their Witch if they survive. GO!” The Golem moaned with a mindless deference to the orders. The Ogres winced and led the Flesh Golem into the hall by a chain.

Lenelle’s skin recoiled at the touch of the spiders crawling on her. She felt a stickiness at the back of her head. When three of the spiders dipped within sight on her collarbone, she realized why. They were spinning webs around her head, working at an impossible speed! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Simon also  covered in spiders frantically weaving their webs.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:30, Wed 13 Oct 2021.

Pockets called out to Lenelle. “Let the spiduhs do it, Lenelle! She wants ya to be afraid, but they’re actually helping ya…!”

“Silence, you obnoxious little groundhog!” Granny Grimfiddle walked over and kicked his cage hard enough to slam Pockets against the bars. The Halfling grunted in pain, but forced a defiant jeer through gritted teeth. “Hey, I may be a groundhog, but at least I ain’t a warthog!”

“What you’ll be is a new toy for our precious little Elise,” Auntie Constance cooed. “Once we finish stuffing you!” At that, the Hags cackled as Constance fetched a pie from their enormous oven. It was a contraption of iron and heat that looked even grimmer for being in a Hag lair.

Suddenly, the captives were all aware that the Hags had been baking food. They’re been too injured or frightened to notice until that moment. Constance pulled out a tray of small pies. The pies smelled delicious. Whatever their sinister natures, the Hags still possessed the culinary skill of the mortal grandmothers and that they imitated.

“Would anyone care for a pie? You all must be starving after our little spat earlier!”

Gods, what did they have planned for Connor-?

There was little she could do to stop the spiders, even if she desperate to.  She'd just have to pray that Pockets knew what he was talking about.   If the webs would block out the ghastly sight of Georg's head, atop that foul form, with its soul-dead eyes, that at least would be a mercy!  Such a grotesque sight.

How naive she'd been, expecting human enemies.  Deadwater's nemeses were far, far worse than a disgruntled druid or witch with a grudge.  Nightmarishly so.

She was tempted to answer yes on the pie;  they'd have to remove her gag.  Though her wrists were trapped, her hands were free.  She might be able to cast.  But -- the spiders were protecting her, in some way?   From seeing-?  Or from being force fed these pies?

Skye groaned as she stirred, hearing words on tbe edge of her consciousness. She recognised some, but her eyes snapped open hearing the fellow halfling. She sat up, and instantly regretted it, her head swimming. She moaned softly as she reached her head, and realised she was still armed and armored

She looked around and saw the hags....three of them now, and narrowed her eyes. She held some satisfaction that pockets was not only alive, but annoying them as much as he irritated her. Despite that, she was happy to see him alive. Her eyes looked around, seeing Simon, lenelle and Sundos tied up.

She sat up and looked at the hags, but spoke clearly to Pockets. "Its good to see that you piss other people off other than me, you rogue."

She narrowed her eyes to 'Granny'. "Oh....don't think I forgot my promise to you crone!"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:12, Thu 14 Oct 2021.

“And what promise is that, my little She-Hobbit? To fill my stewpot? YAH-HAH-HAAAAH!”

Still, Pockete smirked at Skye’s rebellious jab at the Hag. Hang in there, Pretty Lady, we’re gonna get outta this jam, Skye heard via her Sending Stone. In the meantime, he jerked his head toward Lenelle.

The spiders wove silvery webs at preternatural speeds. It would have been fascinating to watch, if they weren’t being captive  by a Hag Coven. As swiftly as the spiders spun their webs, the gossamer fell away. Where the webs once touched Lenelle, her wounds were miraculously healed! Sundos and Skye intuited that Simon would also heal through this highly unorthodox method.

Skye sneered at the hag, her arrogance astounding even her. "No...I was referring tbe promise of shoving a blade through your eye....and call me a she-hobbit again, that will include a foot up your ugly, decrepit ass as well."

The halfling took note of her weapons....her ahortbow had a broken string, but she had an extra in her quiver. The hand crossbow strapped to her hand was damaged, if it coukd be repaired she didn't know, but she didn't have the skill. She had her two daggers and short sword too.

She sat back and sighed as she looked at pickets. "I don't doubt that for a moment. You get us out of this and you just may earn earn kiss from me - or a slap in the head for getting yourself caught." She removed the broken string from the bow and set about re-stringing the bow, showing tbe hags she had no fear by smiling at them as she worked.

"If ya can, make it sooner....I don't like cages"

Lenelle exhaled a sigh of relief, as her injury was miraculously healed.   While she was no expert at all in arcane lore -- she'd a feeling that healing spiders would have been a surprise even if she was.

Still gagged, all she could do was listen to Skye's baiting of them.  There was nothing she could do to help, for the time being.  She did know a few spells that didn't need speech...but none of them were immediately helpful.

Simon would likewise be wholly mended.  Which was good; he'd looked in bad shape when he'd been brought in.   Perhaps he - or that otherworldly friend of his - had something up their sleeve?    Now would be the time...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:18, Thu 14 Oct 2021.

The words floated through Simon's mind and slowly pulled him from unconscious to conscious.

His eyes opened, but his vision was obscured, he reached to clear whatever was in his face, but he couldn't move his hands.

That was Skye's voice, he was sure. He lifted his head, and his vision cleared as a mass of silken strands fell away. He immediately wished he couldn't see.

Skye and Pockets caged, Lenelle and Sundos manacled in chairs which he realised was also his situation. And, there, three of them, now..."Aas!" he tried to say hags, but he realised that he was gagged.

Was that Elise and Phoebe sitting there? Why did Elise look so happy?

Just then, the warlock jerked his back, as he saw spiders run across his face, creating their silk as they moved.

~Think! Use your damned brain! Hands immobilised, gagged, covered in webs...need to get free...how?~

Turning to look at Lenelle, "Oo aw ii?" he asked.

Was that...'you all right?'

She nodded once.  Miraculously so.   She wasn't a stranger to magical healing -  it was one of the first, full spells she had become capable of casting.   And then having companied with Sundos, who had healing well beyond her own.   But the spiders were something else.  It felt like she'd never been hit at all.

Her hopes were dashed that Simon didn't immediately summon his ifrit mentor, and teach these evil ones a lesson.  But such hopes were those of a girl who had read a lot of fables.   The adult sorceress knew well the limits of most spell casters.

The hags were far from stupid.  But, they were also filled with spite and pride, from what she'd heard of their conversations.   Which, gods willing, might amount to an opportunity, for somebody.   Simon and Skye were both very clever.

And, the others were all free, and approaching.  This wasn't over yet...

“Ugly? Awww, thank you, dear! What a sweet compliment!” Granny chuckled, a raw and throaty sound. “You look a little rough yourself. Irma,” she motioned at her Sister Hag. “Fetch the spiders for her, too.”

Auntie Irma obeyed, dumping a generous handful of the strange spiders all over Skye. “Let the spiders work, honey. You’ll feel better soon.”

Simon gave Lenelle a quick nod, and then a wink. Before turning his attention to the hags; watching them as they move about; being sure to move his head not just his eyes.

Meanwhile, he slowly tries to weave the webs around his left fingers, focussing on his ring; at the same time he jerks his right hand against the manacle, as if trying to break loose.

When he has wrapped the web around his ring as well as he can, (or if he feels that he cannot really accomplish it after trying for a few minutes), the warlock will start rocking his chair, as violently as he can.

"Oo oo-ii u-in i-i" he screams through the gag.

Simon tries to tip the chair completely, and as soon as he feels it falling he will vanish! If the chair is too heavy to tip he will vanish once the hags are focussed on him, hopefully looking him in the eye.

---

Trying to keep the ring attached to the webs when the chair falls. And to use the chair as a loud distraction to cover the sound the ring falling on the floor if the webs don't hold.
Activate Bottled Respite
Action to magically vanish and enter your vessel, which remains in the space you left.
While inside, you can hear the area around your vessel as if you were in its space.
Remain in the vessel up to 4 hours equal.
Bonus action to leave, or automatic if you die, or if the vessel is destroyed.
Appear in the unoccupied space closest to it.
Can't enter again until you finish a long rest.

Simon saw Pockets nodding and mumbling quietly. “You! Halfling! What are you up to?!” Granny Grimfiddle lurched over toward the cage that held the mischievous Pockets. At the same time, Simon felt his gag loosen!

The momentary luck gave Simon the strength he needed to see his plan through. He jerked forward, then lurched back with all his might. The chair titled back and struck the wooden floorboards loudly! Simon was nowhere to be seen, as the Ring clattered on the floor.

Granny spun around when she heard the noise, followed by Irma’s scream. “He’s gone! The Warlock vanished!” Even Granny Grimfiddle raised bushy eyebrows at that unexpected surprise. One among them wasn’t surprised, though.

Aunt Constance clucked her tongue. “It’s a trick. The Warlock vanished into his Ring. He made quite a show of it at the Spit!”

However, Connie wasn’t prepared for a violet-hued hand that shimmered into view. Pockets summoned Mage Hand and plucked it off the floor. Then, the Hand flung the Ring downstairs into the cellar, before vanishing!

The ring rolled toward the cellar door left open when the witches released their flesh golem. Irma scrambled after it, cursing as it hit the top step of the cellar ladder. The ring clattered and bounced down the stairs. When the ring hit the cellar flour, it bounced and rolled up to a cage holding another captive. Dim torchlight made the brass ring gleam like golden fire.

Hard to tell much from the top of the stairs, but Jennet is a humanoid of, presumably, some orcish descent. His skin is a dim sort of gray-green. His tusks are clearly, recently sharpened and polished, and his hair is neatly groomed in a practical style. His clothes are unfortunately very much the worse for wear, but have been clearly well-maintained for some time.

He snatches up the brass ring. "This ring? I wonder what I could accomplish with my very own pocket warlock?" He raised his voice to be heard over the din. "Excuse me, good sir You Halfling, but you seem like a very clever little fellow. What do you think I should do with my Pocket Warlock first?"

“Hey! Hey, Hey, HEY! Whatevuh ya do, don’t offend the Great and Powuhful Genie that lives in there! If he grants ya a wish, ask him ta burn these Hags to ashes!”

Jennet slips the ring on his finger and adjusts it primly. "O Great and Powerful Warlock Genie," he intones, "I am unjustly imprisoned by the vast forces of evil! Hear my plea! Release me from my captivity, and burn my wicked foes to ashes before me!" He clears his throat. "The rewards will be... not great... but totally negotiable! Please? Maybe just loosen the bars and set them on fire a little."

Simon finds himself in the comfortable space within the ring, that was not really within the ring. As Saraamosh had explained, the ring was really a portal to the extra-dimensional space.

The warlock took several deep breaths to calm himself; listening carefully to what was going on back in the hut in the tree.


~Damn it all! Why did I make a spectacle of myself at the tavern? The hellspawned crones might not have known!

They will likely destroy the ring and I will be in their clutches again.~

Suddenly, the voices got somewhat quieter.

~They are moving away...or the ring is moving away from them!~

~Who the devil is that? By the gods he has got the ring! This will surely not turn out well.~

"Falsa Vita"

---

Cast False Life with Fiendish Vigour, material components are not required.
Simon rolled 5 using 1d4+4 for Fiendish Vigour - Temp Hit Points.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:11, Fri 22 Oct 2021.

Skye, taking stock of her gear, noted well what she had. The hand crossbow was repauirable, but she doubted she had the skill. Her bow, newly strung, had about 10 arrows left, and had two daggers and her short sword.

She looked at Pockets and smiled. "Hey, short and annoying...you got a plan for getting us outa here? I'm itching to kick some crone ass."

<OOC: Does pockets look armed?>

Sundos spoke a work and screamed.

His voice thundered in a massive volume. Maybe what a giant would have for a voice.

"FRIENDS! OGRE and a GOLEM of FLESH COME FOR YOU! Ware!" he screamed out, hoping to disrupt the witches and also alert those of their friends outside.

casting Thaumaturgy, verbal only

Suddenly, everyone heard what sounded like either a thunderclap or a cannon burst from over 60 feet away. The noise startled anyone in the “dining room”. Dirty plates on the table rattled, as a vial near the door shattered! “Oh, Hells,” Connie muttered as she cleaned an acrid fluid and eyeballs off the floor.

Sundos quickly took advantage of the distraction! Praying for a minor miracle, the Cleric of Pelor used a Cantrip that helped him in many an outdoor sermon. Granny Grimfiddle shrieked and hobbled quickly toward Sundos. “I’ve no patience for tattletales, my boy!” She attempted to gag Sundos.

Nearby, Irma carried a plate toward Phoebe and the Halflings. “Would you care for a treat? Surely you must be hungry!” The pies on the plate smelled delicious. The savory aroma twisted Skye, Pockets, and even Lenelle’s guts with hunger pangs. Phoebe shook her head, fresh tears dribbling down her plump cheeks. “Oh, child! You’ll hurt Auntie Irma’s feelings!”

OOC:

Skye & Lenelle, make CON checks vs. Hunger. DC 12. If you fail, your hunger speaks for you.



This message was last edited by the GM at 01:02, Wed 27 Oct 2021.

Skye shook in her cage as the whole room shook, a look more of surprise and confusion than fear. "Now what..." she muttered.

As irma came over with the plate, the halflling saw her chance, smiling. She looked at the pies, feeling a tug, but the halfling was a hunter and had spent days still in teh grass and swamp, tracking an animal - a grumbling stomach wasn't going to sway her.

But she made a show of raising her eyes at the thought. "oh....they do smell nice.  Maybe ..." As teh plate came forward she lunged forward, dagger in hand and struck at her, missing her arm narrowly, swearing in halfling.

She spat at the woman with a smile. "You know what, you ugly bog-brained crone....you can shove those pies right up your wrinklly ass!"

---

<OOC: You ever known such a fiesty halfling - i doubt it!

Skye Keenshadow rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  con check

Skye Keenshadow rolled 10 using 1d20+5.  attack - dagger. >

Lenelle hadn't been blessed with what in ages hence would be termed 'a high burning metabolism.'   It required a little discipline to keep her weight where she preferred it to be.

Thus, she was quite able to resist.    However, her expression didn't convey that.

Her eyes widened with seeming rapaciousness, and she uttered a "Mmmmm," through the gag.     Hoping 'Connie' might remove it...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 21 using 1d20+4.  con save.  Have you ever met a more calorie conscious sorceress?  I don't think so!

Lenelle Toreth rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  deception. (to inspire Connie to remove the gag) How about a genuinely nice gal, who really prefers to be honest, but can still put on one hell of an act when she needs to-?

If the gag comes off, then I'm going to cast.

Oh, and welcome to Jennet!   Your practical haircut is reassuring.  In the way sensible shoes might be.   ;)   
This message was last edited by the player at 21:50, Fri 22 Oct 2021.

Sundos grinned and bit down HARD on the hag's hands that tried to gag him.

"Pelor burn you with his light witch!"

OOC: not sure if this is possible, but it's what Sundos would try!

Bite: hit AC 20, 4 piercing damage
15:24, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 20,4 using 1d20+2,1d4+2.  Bite the fingers trying to gag him

"Pelor? Well, that's a little bit indirect, but way to go, All-Powerful Pocket Warlock!"

Jennet kisses the ring for good luck.

"Now... about these bars..."

~By the gods! This idiot may cost my friends dearly...

If he will only grab the bars...I could take a chance.~

---

Ready a bonus action. If Simon hears the sound of the ring on the bars he will exit the extra-dimensional space.

quote:

When you exit the vessel, you appear in the unoccupied space closest to it.