The Witch and The Amulet

Cordelia barged through the worn wooden doors of the 'Fool's Gold' tavern with a grimace on her regal face, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the cacophony of perverse comments that were muttered by the patrons as she passed by. Her dirt coated gold high heels struck the old wooden floor with significant force, the hem of her flowing gown displayed all the signs of a journey gone awry, its tattered silk threads dragged along the wood grain with every step. She gave her voluminous copper hair a shake, brushing away the loose pieces of foliage that had become tangled within it.

A drunken patron attempted to reach a hopeful hand towards her, desiring to have the exotic beauty planted in his lap. But he was sent crashing back into his booth with a flick of Cordelia's finger, a sight that greatly amused his drinking partners. A dark glare made sure that he didn't make an unwise second attempt.

The witch had spent the previous few days in search of an ancient amulet, sought by her monarch, Queen Meira B'Audair. The amulet itself wasn't close to being an impressive item, merely being a family heirloom that had been stolen during a siege two centuries prior that left the vaults of the Shiwl kingdom depleted. Jewels, gold, finely crafted regalia, the raiders had plundered a signicant fortune before making their narrow escape after the arrival of reinforcements, losing many of their party in the process.

It had seemed like a reasonably simple task when it had been given to her, though she had little care for its sentimental value. The wealth of the Shiwl kingdom had been rebuilt over the time following the siege, becoming vast enough for such small pieces of jewellery to be considered meaningless against the horde of gold and precious gems that filled the impenetrable vaults that replaced the their inferior counterparts. But that didn't stop Queen Meira from reclaiming what had been stolen from her predecessors, sending her agents to the furthest reaches of the continent to seek out and locate every piece.

Sentimentality was something witches such as Cordelia were taught to ignore, the nature of her occupation resulted in them leading an almost nomadic life, forced to pick up and leave whenever they needed or forced to. However, unlike her sistren, Cordelia found stability within the white stone walls surrounding Shiwl, living a certain life of luxury most of her kind couldn't have imagined. It certainly flew in the face of what she had been taught during her time as a novice. But Cordelia's ambitions had always been too potent to let her settle for a life of bubbling cauldrons and potions crafting in a hovel sat at the center of a gloomy forest.

In just a short time, the young witch had become somewhat of a celebrity within the kingdom. She exuded beauty and glamour, seeming perfectly suited amongst the aristocracy of the kingdom, always dressed in resplendent gowns made from the finest silks and furs. Cordelia became a regular fixture of the social calendar, always found sitting in the royal stands during some of Shiwl's most prominent events, becoming somewhat of an obsession for many of the kingdom's male folk.

But with such comfort came high expectations. Whenever Cordelia was called upon by her monarch, or the other members of the royal family, she was expected to answer their call. No matter what, Cordelia carried out her assigned tasks flawlessly, regardless of how pointless or how mundane they might have appeared, dancing to whatever tune she was expected to. If there happened to be some existential threat to the kingdom, she would be the one to uncover the plot and stamp it out. An outbreak of disease would require her to utilize her talents in alchemy to search for the cure. Such requests were usually made with her strengths in mind.

Cordelia had grown so used to using her powers and knowledge for trivial quests that it came as some surprise when she was tasked by her queen with locating such a seemingly unimportant jewel, a quest that would take her beyond the boundaries of the kingdom. It was a beautiful creation, that she was certain of, but there was nothing innately special about it that could require the services of Shiwl's sole magic caster to seek it out. But if there was one thing she knew as in depth as her magical talents, it was the need to carefully navigate the chaotic world of politics. If she wanted to ensure that she could maintain the comfort and luxury she had become accustomed to, she needed to do everything she could to ingratiate herself to her monarch.

Initially, she had accepted the quest with a degree of amusement, naively assuming that all she would need to do was pick up the trace of the original invaders that had sacked the kingdom centuries ago, using historical texts and surviving records to discover where the descendants of the invaders had ended up. She departed from the secure walls of the kingdom with just a basic assortment of equipment, all tucked away in a set of durable leather saddle bags. Despite being urged to dress down for the journey, Cordelia had instead selected a purple ceremonial gown. It was a purely vain choice, prioritising an outfit flattered every inch of her magically enhanced body, detailed with pure white swan feathers encompassing her décolletage and a waist amplifying bodice, complete with tall gold heels ill suited for stirrups. It was a conscious decision of hers to travel light, allowing her overconfidence and lack of experience with the wider world to get the better of her.

However, Cordelia soon discovered just how much of an uphill struggle she had unecessarily created for herself. Most of the first day had been spent on uncovering details of the invaders, using old pieces of parchment and battered tomes she had borrowed from the palace's vast library, piecing together some semblance of a map she could follow. Unfortunately, that map forced to navigate her way through densely packed forests and the most narrow roads that ran parallel with deadly cliff edges, continually having to avoid the various bandits and highwayman that inhabited the less than pleasent parcels of land. By the time she pinned down what she believed to be the most likely location for the amulet, she was more than ready to do anything to get the entire ordeal over with, to snatch the amulet she had come to loath and bring it back to the queen.

Cordelia came to the conclusion that the raiders had used some of their ill gotten gains to purchase a few acres of land towards the eastern regions, she only hoped that the amulet wasn't a part of the deal that led to their land ownership. She rode in to a small settlement, made up predominantly of humans, many of whom happened to be the descendants of the men she sought. Many watched her with suspicion as her horse trotted along the cobbled streets, curious as to why such a glamourous sorceress would set foot in their secluded village, but Cordelia was far past caring about what any of them thought, she just hoped that her luck would finally shine through what had been a wretched ordeal for her.

Sauntering up to the wooden bar, Cordelia placed a few silver pieces down and waited for someone to serve her, taking a quick glance at what remained of her pristine gown, letting her lips turn to a deep frown when she tried to estimate how many inches the hem of her skirt had lost. Much to her surprise -- given the grizzled and less than welcoming appearance of the tavern goers -- a young, golden haired woman emerged through the doorway, smiling brightly at the witch as she approached.

"Good evening, never seen you around before. Always glad to see a fresh face every now and then, makes up for all the sour expressions we usually get in here," the bar maid greeted with a wink, earning a small grumble of disagreement from those closest to the bar. She leaned over and placed her hands flat on the bar top. "My name is Susan, what would you like to have?"

"Cordelia A'Shyra," Cordelia replied, leaning an arm against the bar, unconcerned by the spilled liquor that stained the sleeve of her gown. "I would like a glass of Lishain wine, please."

"Wow, you really aren't from around these parts. I'm sorry, but we don't carry anything from Lishain, not since the embargos were put in place," Susan responded with an apologetic smile, stepping to the side and presented the incredibly limited range of barrels she had on the shelves behind her. "Stout, red wine, and mead are all we have. But if I were you, I'd avoid the wine, I suspect that the producer is using something other than grapes to make it, I despair to imagine what it might be."

"A glass of water perhaps?" Cordelia tried, again watching Susan shake her head.

"I could get you some water, but it should go without saying that you really wouldn't trust the purity of the source."

"Mead then," Cordelia gave her order. As vile as she found the substance, her thirst urged her to lift the grimy tankard to her glossy lips, grimacing severely when the first few sour drops touched her taste buds. Her gaze turned back to the bar maid, scrutinizing her through ocean blue eyes, with clear weariness written across her face. "If you don't mind me saying, you seem a little too vibrant for this town. Do you own this establishment?"

The bar maid shook her head with a light laugh as she opened up another barrel of mead, placing it beneath the rack behind her. "Afraid not, it belongs to my father, I just make sure everything is in shape when he's away, or drunk out of his skull. I know I don't meet the look of the typical tavern owner, but sometimes it helps to have a friendly face behind the bar. That, and the ability to provide some... well, let's just call them extra services, if you understand my meaning."

Cordelia knew precisely what she meant. It wasn't all that uncommon to find a tavern or a social club doubling as an informal brothel, though the witch hadn't come across one before where the owner's own daughter acted as the sole working girl. But Cordelia was hardly the sort of woman to judge, having bedded a number of the queen's royal guards over the years, along with a number of noblemen as a means of procuring certain items she desired that firmly remained on the list of prohibited goods.

"I see," Cordelia moved on and reached into her leather satchel, withdrawing the heavily stained map she had spent the better part of almost three days scrawling on as she mapped out the location of the stolen amulet. She rolled it out and pointed her red painted nail at a small sketch of the amulet at the top corner. "I've come here in search of this item. It was stolen during the sacking of the Shiwi kingdom. I believe that it was brought here at some point when the raiders finally decided to settle down. You wouldn't happen to recognise it, would you?"

Susan's eyes widened as she caught sight of the drawing. "I don't recognise that one in particular, but our forefathers built this town using objects like that to fund the construction. But much of it was lost when the town was attacked about half a century ago, along with many of our women. Hence its current decrepit state. Mulweir hasn't recovered since then, and it will take a miracle to change thaf."

"What goes around comes around," Cordelia muttered to herself. Forced to deal with yet another downturn in her luck, Cordelia prepared herself for whatever twist she was expected to follow. "You said the items were stolen? By whom?"

Susan's eyes glanced out of an open window, towards one of the mountains that rose high above the small town far in the distance. "Goblins!"

Cordelia grimaced. The green creatures were almost renowned for the havoc they brought whenever they decided to come down from from their vast caves hidden within the mountainous regions across the land. But they were also known for their insatiable lust, forged by the lack of any females within the species. They bolstered their numbers within their nests using the females of other species unfortunate enough to fall into their clutches. As much as Cordelia wanted to wave away any concerns about the small creatures, even she knew better than to be in any way blasé about dealing with them, aware that any sort of direct encounter with the goblins ran the risk of her disappearing into the bowels of their vast caverns, never to be seen or heard from again.

"That's unfortunate, but something I was expecting knowing my luck these past few days," Cordelia rolled the map back up and shoved it back into her satchel. "Would you be able to direct me to the general direction of their whereabouts? Are there any roads or paths that might lead me to the source of their nest?"

Susan shook her head immediately. "I'm afraid I can't do that. You don't understand what these creatures are like, what they're capable of. I could never forgive myself if I helped you to find them, not when I fear what fate might await you."

Cordelia appreciated the concern, it was certainly a change compared to having her queen treat her like a seemingly infallible resource. "I understand that you're worried, but I've studied these vile creatures for many years, I'm fully aware of what they can do. I can assure you, I have no intention in taking them on head on. I just need to know where they are located, I'll find my own way of getting what I've come for, they won't even know that I was there."

"That amulet must truly be worth something to go through all this," Susan sighed.

"Not as much as you would think," Cordelia countered, full of scorn for the item that had caused such unecessary hardship for her. "But it's not my place to determine the value of such things."

"Difficult clients, I know the feeling," Susan smiled, reluctantly stepping over to the window, pointing up towards a small peak, where a large shelf jutted out from the main slope of the largest mountain. "Mount Go'bishiv, that's where their nest is located. A weir was constructed soon after the raid, along with trenches and defences along the base, anything that will keep them from making a return. If you can navigate your way through the blockade, you'll find a path that leads all the way to the shelf and into the mountain itself, though no-one can be too sure how deep those tunnels go, those who go in never come back out. If you want to find them, that's where they'll be. But I beg for you to reconsider, their numbers are vast."

"Believe me, the monsters will think twice before trying to attack me," Cordelia snapped her fingers, conjuring a small flickering ball of purple flames within her palm. "In and out, hopefully without much trouble."

"I see," Susan's eyes flashed with amusement, crouching down to retrieve a thick brown book, which she slammed onto the stained bar top. "Would you like me to book you a room for the evening? I can bring your belongings upstairs before your return."

"That sounds divine, I haven't laid my head down on a soft bed for far too long," Cordelia smirked, sliding over a gold piece.

"Soft isn't the the word I'd use. But it's quite cozy," Susan dabbed the point of her quill into a small ink pot, scratching the witch's name into her book. "I'll have everything waiting for you, along with some of the freshest sheets I can find. But please don't underestimate the greenskins. Good luck."

"Thank you. Truly," Cordelia smiled warmly, spinning on her heel, striding back towards the door, already forming a plan in her head.

~•~•~•~•~•~

Cordelia waited until nightfall before making her move, hiding amongst the rocky terrain of the mountain side as she examined the mouth of the cave. The journey up had been far easier than she had anticipated, aided by the occasional charm to open up previously blocked routes. But scaling the sheer cliff face proved difficult, necessitating a hasty shortening of her flowing skirt, severing it until it sat around her thighs, vastly improving her ability to move around at the expense of her exposure to the biting cold temperatures.

During the time she waited, she only caught sight of a few goblins, each one wandering outside to inspect the immediate area. With the species lacking any sort of foundry or skills in smithing, they lacked any type of heavy armour and weaponry of their own, always relying on the scraps they could retrieve from raids to arm themselves. The witch hoped it meant that they wouldn't expect anyone to be foolish enough to launch a raid of their own, that their lack of any regular sentinel shifts would give her the element of surprise.

Once she was sure she had the window with the most potential, she left her vantage point and rushed towards the opening of the cave, casting a charm over her body that would grant her a certain degree of invisibility, so long as none of the diminutive creatures looked too closely. She braced herself against the wall, creeping around the edge of the winding caves as she traversed inside. The moonlight disappeared altogether, resulting in the crudely made torches that were hammered into the cave walls becoming her only source of light.

Though she failed to spot any goblins up close, she also failed to find any source of the stolen items. Rationally, she assumed that the goblins would have melted down the precious metals and forged them into poorly crafted daggers, but she also knew that the goblins were never ones for logical thinking. Believing that their proclivity for beautiful objects ensured that the amulet remained in tact, she continued on.

Close to an hour after entering, hope filled her when she spotted a woman's gold wedding band on the cave of the floor. Upon closer inspection, she recognised the text along the inside of the ring, a slightly more archaic version of the modern Shiwl language. With such a find validating her hopes of the amulet still remaining in its original form, Cordelia pushed on, leading to her eventually finding herself close to a mile deep, far beyond the point of return if anything went wrong.

Finally, Cordelia believed that her mission was at an end. She stumbled upon a large, cavernous structure, with crudely carved winding stone staircases that led down to a circular pit. At the very centre of the pit sat a pile of jewels and other glimmering items, all densely packed to form a cone shape. It seemed so easy to the witch, almost too easy. When she took a few steps towards the carved out room, she realised just how right she was. All around the very edges of the cavernous room were slumbering goblins, lightly snoring beneath the golden glimmer of the pile.

Towards the furthest edge of the pit, she spotted a pair of truly comely elven women resting amongst the horde, with the shine of the gold highlighting the iron collars around their necks, as well as their heavily swollen stomachs. To Cordelia's dismay, the pair stirred, moving their eyes towards her as she peered over the edge. Hope twinkled in their violet eyes, belief that the witch's presence marked their liberation, begging for the witch's intervention. Cordelia despised herself when she raised her finger to her lips to placate them, feeling terrible guilt when they nodded understandingly. Echoes of distant feminine wailing and rattling shackles gave the witch her first personal encounter with the reviled breeding chambers, the section of the nest that hosted the unwilling mothers to the goblin forces.

Cordelia cursed herself for being so naive, discovering the nest to be a far more horrific place than her old tomes had ever depicted, filled with an infectious sent of despair. Any wrong move would awaken the horde, sealing her into a fate every woman feared. She used her best judgement to determine how to go forward, knowing that pulling out just a single piece from the pile could cause the entire thing to come crashing down. Unfortunately, in her frantic state of mind, Cordelia failed to notice as a lone goblin awakened, slowly creeping up behind her. The sound of a loose coin skittering across the damp ground caused her to spin, bringing her face to face with the creature as it eyed her curiously.