"The Night of Witches" is a March 21, 2015 Season 4 thread.
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Walpurgisnacht: The witch spun, laughing spitting fire as debris, ice, and pieces of the land spun around her. Familiars danced, destroying everything in their wake, as more rubble and bits of the former fortress were drawn upwards into the sky. Bodies of fallen rebels came with it, pulled into the new barrier the witch was creating from the environment around it.
Yet still the top turned, moving, the center of the great hurricane. Walpurgisnacht held all the despair of so many former witches, the curses turned upon the people of the land. Fire, lightning, ice shards as mirrors. It would not cease.
Hel: Through the cloud of dust and smoke, a massive form raised itself up, starring down at the witch. It suddenly lunged forward, tackling the witch off to the side. Hel wrapped her long fingers around the witch, and was surprised to find that she actually had to use some force. This was far stronger than any other creature she had ever encountered. I’m sorry, she thought to herself, careful not to speak it aloud. i’ll make it as quick as I can little one
Walpurgisnacht: Walpurgisnacht never stopped laughing, though her familiars tries to assail the hand wrapped around her. Fire erupted from her, shards of ice and floating pieces of the fortress were thrown at Hel, the storm raged even stronger. Her laughter was mad, crazed, but streaked with pained misery.
Hel: Hel’s true form could not be made out in the haze, but her roar could be heard across the land. Black tendril wiped out, snapped the familiars into pieces as if they were no more than bugs. She threw her shoulder into the attacks, shielding her vitals. Two powerful arms came up, the fingers grasping the witch’s throat, and then the fingers slowly started stretching, growing longer. She shoved into the witch, crashing to the ground with it. I’m sorry, she thought again.
Walpurgisnacht: The witch’s laughter grew strained, agonized, as though each laugh drew from the mad despair of the soul within. Still, she threw everything she could at Hel, ice, remaining towers, flame, ice, raging winds, trying to destroy anything and everything. Hel, the world, sadness, hate, all of it.
Hel: A sharp crack rang across the valley like a clap of thunder, and everything seemed to come to a halt.
Hel slowly stood on her hind legs, letting her fingers slip away from the broken neck of the beat pinned beneath her.
A vibrating grumble sounded from the gods throat, and she turned away, her features still obscured, and sank into the ground.
Walpurgisnacht: The laughter died instantly. Walpurgisnacht floated briefly, spinning as her body itself fell apart, pieces ripping themselves away and twisting into nothing. The dark clouds vanished with dramatic speed, leaving the skies clear; the rain and wind immediately ceased, leaving everything an odd calm.
Debris, ice, pieces of the fortress, everything that had been floating in the sky, began to fall, crashing down to the earth. Dust and mud exploded from each impact, leaving clouds and rains of dirt in every place.
Somewhere in the center of the ruins of the fortress, a large grief seed floated down to rest. Upon its top and sides were the emblems of a tea leaf and nadder spikes.