[NR] An Unrelated Evil Elsewhere - Chapter 606

An Unrelated Evil Elsewhere

In a small mountain range, bitter winds whip through deep icy canyons. A foul smell being carried by them to the fearful farmers down below. None dare enter this place, not even travellers, for a foul has taken up residence there as of recent. They are yet weak, though considering they naturally break through to level 25 upon “maturing” that is only relative.

However, it isn’t their level that scares others away. For what lives on the mountain is a stormcrone, a hag. A being cursed to make up for the crimes of their past life or unlucky enough to have been born through the foul methods hags had found over the uncountable years to spread even more misery. And what made it that even the undying travellers fear was they were the natural witches and their curses unnaturally strong. So strong, that they had even been known to persist through someone’s death.

This was one newly born into her cursed existence, not even a year ago having been a relatively happy young girl with a particular bent for wind magic. Through the hag curse, that merry girl was twisted and changed, her mind twisted into that of an un-aging evil witch. She was now ugly in the way only truly evil curses could force on someone, with teeth like iron nails and claws like cleavers, a hunched back and shriveled legs, a nose longer than her face was tall that was bent and a mane of hair colored sickly gray. Though despite being unable to stand up to her full seven-foot height, limbs both crooked and thin, and those legs which looked non-functional? As with all hags, she was strong beyond mortal men and could walk around faster than most would believe.

Not that she walked if she could help. Stormcrones, actually being the physically weakest type of hag traded off with the fact they were the strongest witches of the bunch and preferred to float around instead. Maybe a group of adventurers would try and kill an Annis or Green hag, but Stormcrones had a deeper connection with the tainted knowledge that came natural to them. Their curse magic was some of the strongest that the System would allow, with rumors that it was actually stronger and only the System protected everyone from their worst.

This stormcrone was in the middle of setting up her new lair. Her magic warping stone out of the way to form a cave suited for her works. This was a slow process that she couldn’t keep up all day, at least not yet. So during her down time, a local tribe of ogres she had taken control of would bang at the stone with crude pickaxes. She had wanted better, but you don’t find evil giants or similar on every mountain.

Though even with the short time they had been under her rule, certain changes had begun to take place. Various curses having taken hold of them to remove the feeling of exhaustion, profane healing, and many smaller effects. All to force them into a daze, while allowing them to break their bodies every day and yet come back the next for more.

Her being able to force such tortures on a race known for their brute strength gives her particular pleasure. Their bodies were now skinny despite having lost none of their strength and having eaten more than comfortable every day. Not that anyone would grow healthy from the magically forged food provided by a hag. Her small cauldron constantly bubbling as the never-ending soup within almost appeared to be trying to escape.

It was, to her, a wonderful device to keep her little minions fed with many improvements over the base mode. After all, while the normal cauldron of plenty might not need a fire or any provisions to work, it also was quite limited in how many it could feed. Well, quite limited if you’re talking about feeding a clan of ogres.

Sure, you needed to feed it meat on the regular, preferably from a sapient, but the ogres didn’t mind a bit of clever meat and it could multiply the output by quite a bit. Though from her inherited memories, she knew that a troll hag could create a much better version, a troll soup cauldron. It rotted the meat just right as it cooked and created that stringy texture that got stuck in your teeth in such a wonderful way.

Then she senses something and turns towards the winding path she left up the mountain. Being new to the area, she hadn’t exactly had time to lay down some heavy curses in every direction. So while she only has basic alarms around her mountain, that tempting path up had received the brunt of her witch work. Except this intruder seemed to be of the supplicant sort.

While she hadn’t exactly built up that sort of reputation yet, hags were known as soothsayers willing to look into the darker side of things that most ignored. That or as magical problem solvers for the desperate. Which seemed to be the case with this poor fool. She was tempted to laugh, except she could tell it would have driven him away.

Twitchy like a rabbit that feels a predator nearby. They move forward less by their own will and rather some burning inner need that even their weak self can’t hold them back. Maybe a first for them. Though she does frown once she realizes it is a traveller.

From the memories of the curse, she knew that their kind was the most common as of late. They believed that deals would just end with their death. As if they were the only beneficiaries of resurrection magic. Sure, it was a rare boon for the locals, but it did exist and those with access to it were more likely to act foolishly. You know, like making a deal with a hag.

She sighs as she disables the various traps on the path. While they did tend to try to ditch their deals even when pathetically weak, she wasn’t in a position to turn down a chance at advancing her agenda. So she let the dwarf climb the mountain to see what deal he might want to bargain for.