Smiling toothlessly to herself, the plump, old woman shuffles out of the filthy pig-shed where a young woman was being held. A special young woman, though she barely knows it herself. The nearby farmhouse is empty now. Empty, except for the corpses of the Farmer, his wife and his two other teenage daughters.
Whispering into the hidden ear of a beckoned crow, the old, mad-haired Witch; Bronwen smugly shares a secret message.
“I’ve found the thirteenth member of our baker’s dozen. With this poor, recently and… Tragically orphaned; Alwina, we’ve finally gotten our Witch’s coven!”
The crow then spreads out its oily, black wings and takes to the air, heading straight back to Megarna to share the news.
Thirteen Witches.Thirteen Sisters from the eager young to the shrewd old. A magical number. The sum at which the combination of their various powers unlock greater gifts. Gifts to rival Grand-Wizards and High-Priests!
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