Once upon a time a group of adventurers found themselves swimming for their lives after narrowly escaping the clutches of an evil crime boss. The group swam for the far shore where the trees were thick and no light could shine through. The perfect hiding spot! Well, most of the group swam, but not one to crawl through the muck like an animal, the Bard flew overhead in majestic fashion.
As they reached the shoreline and heaved themselves onto its banks they listened for sounds of pursuing mercenaries. They strained their ears for minutes that felt like hours but eventually deduced that they were all alone.
“You all are terrible at hiding,” mentioned a small halfling that had been watching their antics for some time atop a small nearby rock. The group turned to face the halfling, whom they recognized as an assassin for the criminal organization that pursued them. With weapons drawn they waited for her attack, but it never came. Instead she slowly stepped from the rock and asked, “Put your weapons down ya dum dums, I’m not here to fight, I came for Remi. Where is he?” The group looked around. They had expected by now the triumphant return of the monk as well as a thrilling story of his escape, but the wind whistling through the trees only emphasized his continued absence. In all the chaos, he could be dead or he could be pulling on a “Push Only” door again. Either way, they may never see him again.
“Hmm,” sneered the halfling, “if he’s not with you than I’m not with you either. I could turn you in for a big bounty but since you’re friends of Remi I’ll settle for giving you some advice. If you want to live, you’ll get as far from this place as you can.”
The group couldn’t disagree with that. Into the night they sped, putting as much distance between them and the town as they could. As they entered the dense foliage, they began to see just how far evil had encroached onto this once-peaceful island. Outside of the civilized town, massive packs of zombies roamed the land unimpeded, animal carcasses were strewn about leaving little to the imagination on how they met their demise, and homes were left abandoned or worse. Even the mighty druid enclave now stood dark and empty. And still they ran from the town. What other choice did they have? As long as danger was behind them, the only way was forward.
After some time in the jungle the Bard stopped. His colleagues looked to him for an explanation. With a stone face he informed them that they had a new mission. He had just received a message in his head, in a familiar voice, a message that claimed it had people they cared about in a nearby lighthouse, a dark and sinister message…
A message from The Hag.
They had a new heading and quickly they found the lighthouse on the very edge of the island. The adventurers hid among the trees, waiting to see some sign of a trap, but ages passed with nothing but the wind as company.
Quietly they entered and ascended the tall lighthouse, weapons drawn. Round and round, they went up the spiraling staircase. When they had nearly reached the top a voice rang out, “Thank you for finally joining me, but I already have so many friends here and I can be very shy. One and only one more may approach or I’ll have to… remove one of my companions.”
The archer urged them to stop, fearing his daughter must certainly be among the prisoners. He began to explain his plan, but before he could do so the warlock pushed through. He could sense that his dear Alicia was near as well and his thoughts were a blur of concern for her safety, swirling through his head, round and round.
As he reached the top of the lighthouse he finally came face to face with the hag, protected by a magical force field. Beside her were her three prisoners: the archer’s daughter, Alicia, and the monk! At least he had finally been found…
“You came just in time,” cackled the hag, “I was just wishing for a guest to help me with a problem. You see, I have a theory I’ve been working on. People seem to put a great deal of importance on life, yet people die all the time and things just seem to stay the same. I propose that the death of a single person makes no real difference in the grand scheme of things. Shall we find out together?”
“Let them go or I will spend every day breaking a new bone in your body,” snarled the warlock.
“Ah ah ahh,” sneered the witch. “That won’t answer my question at all. I just need one person to die, but push me too far and they can all meet that fate.”
The warlock quickly considered his options. The hag was formidable and if they were to destroy her they would need to be at full strength.
“Give me the monk!” commanded the warlock.
“Very well,” said the hag, “now give me one more name.”
What was the warlock to do? The next name that left his lips would damn the other. And this time his friends would not be able to help. What to choose, Love or Innocence? Round and round the warlock went. Even though it may damn them both, he could not bring himself to choose a name.
“Oh, my sweet,” said the hag, her features softening, “I can see this experiment weighs heavily on you. This was suppose to be a game, not a burden. Besides, there’s really no need to answer anyway, I can see it in your eyes who you would have chosen.” The witch walked over to Alicia and gingerly stroked her face. “What a beauty. You know, you really did have her heart. In fact, do make sure it never leaves your side.”
And with one swoop, the hag plunged her hand into Alicia’s chest, and ripped out her heart, its beating already slowing in her hand.
The party thundered up the hall at the sudden noise.
The hag snatched the girl and disappeared without a trace.
A mysterious cube made a noise as it hit the ground where the hag once stood.
And the warlock went round and round.