"Just one more ingredient!" uttered the lady wearing the jaguar-colored needle-pointed witches hat as she precariously walked and weaved through the bustling crowds of the market district. In her good arm, she carried a bundle of ancient scrolls that, from the way she carried them, seemed as though she brought them everywhere she went. Also packed inconspicuously beneath the mass of scrolls was a small sprig of Elfroot, a few flasks, and a veil or two of concentrators agent.
"Just need to find me self some minx spirits.." As she walked, she heard whispers of malicious rumors and fabled tales. Even the Bards sang songs of lies and deceit. This, the witch found disgusting.
"How quick these humans are to believe things that were never true. Do they ever learn? Why, it seems that they do not!"
She finally stumbled upon the Tavern which was full of the pandemonium of drunkenness and frivolous tales of past Kings, Queens, and heroes. The waitresses ran to and fro. Not a noble in sight it seemed.
The witch turned her hat, and stepped into the bellowing beast. She got to the counter at last. Her legs were fairly weary, so she took a rather inviting seat by the bar tender.
His wistful eyes examined her familiar, withered face as she sighed, relaxing finally as if she never had the chance to stop moving before. He breathed along with a sigh of his own, "What can i do ya for, eh?"
Her eyes widened, startled. "Oh dear. I'm sorry, what was that?"
He chuckled, "What can I get ya?" His hand rested on the counter by a few empty mugs.
"Oh that's right. Sorry dear. I came here for some more Minx spirits. I found another wounded one by the old road. He paid me a great deal after i healed his wounds. He said that he did not think 'you witches' could be so kind." she scoffed and placed a small, raggedy old bag on the table in front of her. "The amount in there should be enough for three bottles, yes?"
He turned the pouch around in his hands, and poured a few coins onto the counter. His eyes meticulously counted the silvers.
"Well, these three alone could buy about four bottles. Old friend," he laughed, "you never were very good at counting these have you?"
Her eyes filled with anger. "I've been cheated then? Look at these things that I've bought! No one said a thing! No one! I swear these humans.." Her hands balled up and the winds grew furious along with her temperament. The bar keep laid his palm upon her fist.
"M'dear don't get too angry. You know what they will do to you if they know..."
He trailed off as he watched her expression calm.
"Sorry." She sighed along with the winds outside. "It's hard sometimes.. now, may i have three bottles? No change necessary. It would just be robbed off from me like the other coin i had."
He nodded and hurried like the waitresses off towards the cellar. The witch gathered back the raggedy pouch, and the rest of her scrolls and veils.
"The nerve of these people i swear.." she muttered as the bar keep returned with the bottles of Minx spirits.
"Mind telling me what sort of thing you're brewin tonight Wendy?" he said, fiddling with one of the silver coins.
"Ah it's an experiment!" she exclaimed with a suddenly happy tone. "You have heard of the old tales of shape shifters? Well in this scroll here," she pointed her bony index finger at the skinniest one, "In great detail, it shows you how to make your form change! I'd be bringing back the old tales of the greatest heroes, the shape shifters!"
