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HTN 5-30 the wicked sister
🕑 Added 2021-08-11 19:52:29 +0000 UTCHeather stood in the mirror of her room, admiring the blue dress. Her yellow one was blood-stained and would have to clean overnight in the wardrobe. Webster crawled along beside her, chirping away about wanting to hunt for birds.
“I will take you out in the yard then,” Heather replied and picked him up. She carried down the hall, turning and twisting to get to the kitchen. She wasn't surprised at all to find Quinny poking through the fridge as she arrived.
“Caught you!” Heather cried, causing Quinny to lurch up.
“Caught me doing what?”
“You’re going to eat all the cookies again,” Heather accused with a pointed finger.
“Oh common, they respawn every few hours,” Quinny argued.
“It's daily,” Heather corrected and walked across the kitchen to look in the fridge. There were still some cookies on the plate, so she snatched one up and went on her way. “You would be so much easier to feed if you ate cookies,” Heather said as she held the treat up to Webster. He chirped, and she shook her head before taking a bite.
“Hey, wait,” Quinny called and ran up behind her. “Where are you going?”
“I am taking Webster outside to hunt,” Heather replied. “I am going to sit in the garden while he does.”
“Can I come with you?” Quinny asked. “I am tired of the boring landscape in the desert.”
“It is kinda repetitive,” Heather agreed.
“Yeah, but you had the brilliant idea to get more doors. Now we can come back any time we want,” Quinny said.
“Yeah, and all I have to do is marry Frank,” Heather groaned as they arrived at a secret door to her outer tower.
“Oh, common,” Quinny protested. “You are so stuck on him this should be nothing.”
“He’s my guardian and my best friend,” Heather argued back.
“So you will stand by what you said in the pyramid and let me date him?” Quinny teased.
Heather growled as the door slid open, and they entered a bedroom in the tower. She stormed across the room and headed into the hall, saying nothing as Quinny started to laugh.
“Stop laughing,” Heather grumbled and turned down a hall.
“I am only teasing you,” Quinny replied as she caught up and they headed down the steps. “We all know you can’t see past his appearance.”
“How can you?” Heather groaned. “He looks like a movie monster, and his mouth is full of horribly crooked teeth. He doesn't even have lips.”
“So don't kiss him on the mouth. It's what he has other places that matter anyway,” Quinny added with a wink.
“Oh, you’re terrible,” Heather said as they walked into her guard room. Her human guards snapped to attention and saluted as she passed by them to the final door. One flight of stairs more, and they were in the tunnel full of skeletons. They left by the double doors into the graveyard area, and Heather finally put Webster down to go hunting.
“Don't go too far. We can't stay long,” Heather called after him. She walked to the side where her iron fence started and made her way into the maze of her gardens. Quinny walked beside her, plucking a flower from a hedge as they went. They settled in her private yard, sitting on a bench to wait for Webster to find a meal.
“You know you should take him to my forest,” Quinny offered. “I have rats and bats he could probably takedown.”
“There are crows in the alarm trees,” Heather countered and adjusted her sun hat. “He will hunt one of them and be back in a minute.”
Quinny only shrugged and started to look around at the dense hedge walls that hid the inner garden from the outer graveyard. “How long do you think it will be before players start showing up?”
“Really soon,” came a masculine voice that made them look up in alarm.
Finneous stepped into the yard from the nearly hidden entrance and smiled in his usual annoying manner. He tipped his straw hat up and strode toward them as if invited coming to stand directly before them.
“What are you doing here?” Heather asked.
“I came to tell you that players are starting to arrive in my keep. They are taking boats into the upper swamps and starting to explore the paths around the ring.”
“Really?” Heather asked excitedly. “Are any of them taking the central trail?”
“Some, but they keep getting killed,” he replied and looked about. “You did a good job of making this secluded.”
“Obviously not if you just happen to walk in,” Heather replied. “How did you even know we were home?”
“I didn’t,” he replied. “But I figured I would give it a try. Gwen told me about the doors and that you would be coming and going at your leisure.”
“You and Gwen actually talk?” Quinny laughed. “I didn’t think she had a use for you after making Heather a princess.”
“Oh, we talk more than you might think,” Finneous returned. “She told me about her terms for the doors as well.”
Heather let out a sigh and shook her head. “I guess it won’t be any different than the relationship you and she have. It provides a useful advantage that can be exploited.”
Finneous smirked a little then began to pace about the yard as if interested in the foliage.
“I kinda figured you and him had something going anyway,” he said.
“Frank is my best friend,” Heather insisted. “We’re only doing this to get the doors so we can spend more time in our lairs.”
If her words had any effect on Finneous, he didn't show it as he paced before them. He turned his back on them and rubbed at his chin as if considering his next words carefully.
“So, how are you going to have the wedding when Frank is a ghoul?” he asked.
Heather laughed and explained that that was Gwen's problem. As far as she was concerned, if Gwen was insistent on this going forward, she could find a solution. Quinny suggested Frank could wear his armor, but Heather and Finneous thought that wasn't an answer. Oddly she felt good talking about it and realized she should probably talk to Frank about it as well. She kept assuming he saw it the same way she did, but the truth was she wasn’t sure.
“We will work that out in time, I guess,” she said in a sigh. “For now, it's good to be home, and it's good to know the players are coming.”
“Yeah, they should be finding out lairs soon,” Quinny added with a burst of enthusiasm.
“You two are looking forward to them raiding your lairs?” Finneous asked with a curious expression.
“We all are,” Heather replied. “Frank, most of all. You should see what he built below ground. It's like an underground city down there.”
“A city of the dead,” Quinny added with a wink, then looked up. “Wait, somebody is in my forest!”
“Are you sure?” Heather asked as Quinny jumped to her feet.
“I am positive. I have the same ability to detect players as Frank has.” She looked in the direction of her forest for a moment and then turned back to face Heather. “Can we go see what they are doing?”
Heather felt odd being asked for permission and told her she could do whatever she wanted. Quinny smiled and insisted they come with and see the first players to adventure into the edge of their domain. Unable to argue, Heather sent a mental call to Webster to meet them on the bridge. She then set out with Quinny and Finneous to see who had finally come to explore.
They hurried out of Heather’s yard and onto the mossy brick road that took them to the bridge. The air smelled of soil and damp as they ran for the bridge and found Webster waiting for them.
“How did you get here so fast?” Heather asked as he scurried alongside them. He chirped, and she glanced back at him with a confused look. “What do you mean you blinked?” He returned another chirp, and Heather shook her head in confusion and decided to figure it out later.
They entered the dense trees of Quinny's forest, passing through the gloom created by the dense, dark leaves above. All around them were strange noises and rolling mists that curled about gnarled trunks. In the distance, they could see things shambling about, and every now and then, a pair of glowing eyes blinked just at the edge of vision. Heather loved the forest for how carefully Quinny worked to make it spooky and hide places of interest.
“They are on the far edge,” Quinny said as they followed the main road. “Let’s go to my mound first and spy on them, then maybe we can mess with them a bit.”
Heather and Finneous agreed and followed when Quinny turned off the main road to follow a muddy path. A few minutes later, they were at a massive hill covered in dense thorny growth. Heather helped create that growth to help hide the narrow entrance that led into the depths underneath. Once inside, it was a sizable complex of long halls made out of roughly carved stone. There were nooks along the walls that sometimes held skeletons or mummified bodies. There were skulls and random bones scattered about as well as urns that supposedly contained people's ashes.
They turned down a side hall with a broken floor that acted as a ramp to yet a lower chamber. Here they passed a crumbled statue, and a guarding pack of special zombies that stood motionless in open coffins leaned to one wall. Down another side hall to yet a lower chamber, they passed through three great rooms full of traps and even larger zombies. Finally, they arrived at a grand chamber that had a raised platform in the center. Heather was surprised to see gold coins scattered around a large stone sarcophagus inscribed with runes. There were four green lights anchored to pillars around the room, bathing the space in an unearthly glow. The walls were carved with pictures of funeral rites and scenes showing burials.
Quinny went right to the center of the room and touched a rune on the side of the sarcophagus. There was a grinding sound as it slide to one side, revealing the stairs that led to her true lair. Down they went into a room that was surprisingly clean and organized. Another stone sarcophagus stood here, but this one was plain and had no lid. Around it stood cabinets, dressers, and tables, all littered with Quinny's things.
Quinny went right for the sarcophagus and sat inside her eyes, suddenly looking lost as she accessed her interface.
“There are three of them,” she said out loud. “A warrior, some kind of archer, and a healer, I think.”
“You think?” Heather pressed.
Quinny made a motion in the air with one hand and tapped at something unseen. “Yeah, it’s hard to tell with healers because so many classes wear the same range of armor. I am pretty sure he’s a healer though, he has a fancy holy symbol on his shield.”
“What are they doing?” Heather asked. Quinny gestured again and tilted her head to one side as if considering what she saw. She explained they were carefully clearing the edge of the forest. They were slowly working their way down the road toward the ruins of a farm.
“Well, I should be going,” Finneous said as he tipped his hat and went to move away.
“Where are you going to go?” Heather questioned. “The players are in the way.”
“I can slip out along the water’s edge,” he suggested and resumed his path to the stairs.
“Why do you always try to keep people at a distance?” Heather asked. “What are you hiding?”
He paused at the steps and turned back, his smile now wide on his face. “I have nothing to hide that's any more terrible than your secret.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” Heather pressed and folded her arms. “And how did you get here so quickly? It takes nearly two days to cross the swamp on foot.”
He tipped his hat to her and started up the stairs before bothering to answer. “I know how to cover the ground quickly when I need to.”
Heather watched him vanish up the steps with a shake of her head. They all knew he had a secret to keep; Gwen even seemed to like that about him. Still, she wondered what it could be as she turned back to see Quinny digging in a dresser.
“I have an idea,” Quinny said as she pulled out what looked like a dress. She held it up for Heather to see it was a long formal dress of white and lace. However, it looked as if it had been buried on a corpse for ten years. It was torn, crumpled, yellowing, and soiled. Quinny walked up and held it out as Heather waited for an explanation.
“Put this on,” Quinny said. “Then we can go mess with those players.”
“Why would I need to put that on?” Heather asked as she looked over the ragged garment.
“So you can look the part of a zombie,” Quinny replied. “You use your guise of undeath spell to make your skin and hair look like a zombie and wear this. Then we go out and mess with the players a little.”
“A zombie?” Heather questioned and looked down to find Webster looking up. “Do you think I can be a convincing zombie?” He chirped, and she smiled in return, reaching out to take the dress. A minute later, she was changed and quickly went into her spell to take an undead guise. The world suddenly felt colder, and her vision took on the washed-out effect that made seeing in the dark so much easier. Quinny took her to stand before a mirror, and she smiled to see the pale, gaunt skin, lifeless look to her eyes, and matted tangled hair. She looked as if she had just clawed her way out of a grave and was on the hunt for flesh.
“This is going to be fun,” Quinny said as she led the way up the stairs.
“Isn’t this a little unfair to the players?” Heather wondered as she considered the idea of messing with them.
“Nah, I won't do anything that will kill them. I just want to make the forest more exciting for them. Then they will go back and tell people how fun it was, and they will come back.”
That sounded logical to Heather. To get players to enjoy what they had built was the goal, after all. It only made sense that Quinny wanted to give a good first impression to the adventurers. After all, they needed to cross the entire forest to reach Frank's lair, and that was where things became interesting.
They rushed down the twisting halls and through the grand chambers until finally escaping out the narrow entrance on the side of the hill. Quinny took them to a fog-shrouded tree and then took Heather's hand. She pulled Heather along and stepped behind the tree, and instantly, something felt off. Heather realized the forest around them had changed, and now there was a dilapidated house, barn, and smaller outbuilding in the trees. Quinny had used an ability to traverse her lair and get them closer to the players and the fun.
“Let's haunt this farm,” Quinny whispered and pulled Heather along. They arrived at a wooden fence overgrown with thistles and vines. Beyond it was a farmyard of tall narrow haystacks that had been left too long in the field. They were molding and grown with weeds and neglect. On the ground between them were dark vines and pumpkins, some of which occasionally flashed with glowing eyes. A mist crawled low to the ground, curling about the pole of a scarecrow in the middle of the field. Heather knew that scarecrow would come to life and that some of the pumpkins were a kind of spider camouflaged to hide in the patch. Quinny led the way past an old outhouse and took them to the large but aged farmhouse. The backdoor was long gone, so up the steps, they went and crept inside.
The feeling of being watched permeated this space that was hung with cobwebs in every corner. Only the barest of furniture remained in any one room, and most of it was tossed aside or smashed. There were zombies in the house, shambling through the rooms as if searching for a purpose. Upstairs was a zombie farmer Quinny named Bob just because she couldn't think of a better name. He was armed with a pitchfork and given the special power to summon several giant rats. He was meant as a sort of mini-boss and carried magical boots that supposedly made people walk quietly.
“They are on the road headed this way,” Quinny said as she peered out a broken window. “Let’s wait in here and mess with them.”
“Mess with them how?” Heather asked as she moved to the window. “All I can do is kill them.”
“We’re going to play a story,” Quinny replied. “I made changes to the farmer, just play along and do as I tell you.”
Heather shrugged and realized Webster was still with them. She told him to hide and smiled as he vanished right before her eyes.
“I wish I could do that,” Heather sighed and went back to looking out the window. She could see them now, standing in the road as the archer used his bow to tag zombies in the yard. They were pulling them to the road where the other two could assist in taking them down one by one.
“That's not fair,” Quinny said with a wicked smile. She reached out a hand and made a gesture as they pulled another zombie. This time three more clawed up out of the ground and followed it in, turning it into a four one three fight.
“How did you get so many?” the warrior shouted in alarm as he tried to round them all up.
“I swear there were only two in the yard,” the archer cried and fired at the mass of undead.
“Quick heals!” the warrior cried again, sending the third member of the group, a man with a bird emblem on a silver shield, into action. He raised a hand, and a golden light swirled around the warrior restoring health being battered off by the zombies.
“I knew it was a healer,” Quinny laughed and stepped away from the window. “Common, we need to hide in the kitchen.”
“What are we going to do when they attack us?” Heather wondered as Quinny led the way.
“Just watch,” Quinny replied and waited by the back door. They heard the players just outside the house debating how they should enter. Then, a moment later, a loud voice shouted from someplace above.
“Go away! My daughters are ill! I will have none of you boys coming to call on them!”
“I programmed the farmer to start a sort of quest,” Quinny said. “When they kill him, he will drop a letter that explains we are his daughters and we're sick. It will tell them that the dark-haired daughter was doing something in the barn right before we got sick.”
“Why didn’t he investigate it?” Heather asked as if the logic was unsound.
“How can he? We are beautiful daughters, and he has to spend all his time chasing away the boys that come to court us,” Quinny replied.
Heather wanted to laugh, but they heard the front door open, and a zombie from the outer room moan out.
“They are clearing the entryway,” Quinny said. “You go hide just outside the farm field by a big rock. There is a small herb garden right beside it with a chest behind the rock.”
“You really did decorate this place with little treats,” Heather said with a smile. “How will I know what to do?”
“Have Webster stay with me and listen to what he says. I am going to hide in the barn to ambush them and give them a good scare.”
The two parted ways, with Heather heading across the pumpkin patch and around the stacks of hay. Leaning against one stack was a farmer's scythe that she decided to borrow. She climbed over a break in the fence and found the large rock a dozen paces into the trees. Right beside it was a small plot of tilled land with sickly-looking plants in it. An old weather-beaten chest was right where Quinny said it would be, hidden behind the rock. She decided to sit on the chest and closed her eyes to see Webster looking at Quinny from above in the barn. She had three zombies with her in a small room of the barn where she lay on the floor and pretended to be dead.
“I can tell they are fighting the farmer,” Quinny said aloud. “That should send them here next.”
Heather felt like she was watching on a cell phone as Webster turned to watch the outer room. A few minutes later, there were cries of alarm about pumpkin spiders and a lookout for the scarecrow. Then she saw an arrow fire into the barn from outside and draw two of the zombies out. A second arrow cleared the outer room a minute later, and a head poked in from the barn doors. Slowly the archer waved to the others, and they crept into the large open barn, heading for the back room where Quinny lay.
Heather wasn't sure how Quinny was going to manage this. She was trapped in that room, and those three players weren't going to let him go that easily. The zombies immediately attacked as the archer peaked in, forcing another pitched battle in the main barn area. Quinny came to her feet while they were fighting and screamed at them that she was the most beautiful daughter and the boys should be coming for her.
“What in the world?” Heather laughed as the three adventurers yelled boss fight, and Quinny waded in with bare fists clubbing the archer aside with a powerful blow. She cried, “why does everybody love my sister more!' several times, but she was taking sword slashes and arrows at an alarming pace.
“What are you doing, Quinny?” Heather began to gasp when Webster pushed into her mind. “She wants me to do what?” Heather asked as he relayed the plan the two had made. “How do I do that?” Heather asked in a hurry as the battle waged on. Webster explained the concept, and Heather nodded quickly, going to cast her spell.
“No!” Quinny cried. “If I can't have the boys, no one can!” She fell over as if dead, and Heather acted, casting her grave blight spell through Webster and filling the area around her with choking mists. The three stumbled back in coughs and fits, fleeing the cloud to the yard outside. They waited for it to fade, and when it did, Quinny lay motionless on the ground, her hand resting over a paper. The warrior swept up the paper while the other two searched her pockets for loot producing a rusty key.
“What does it say?” the archer asked as they gave up searching.
“It reads, 'I am sick of everyone saying Annabel is the prettiest! I have finally made my potion of beauty, but when I drank it, something went wrong. Nobody will say I am pretty now, and if I can't be pretty, neither can Annabel! I will poison her food tonight, and if she thinks she can make a cure from the herb garden behind the fields, she can think again. I will lock her magic potion in the chest behind the rock. Let her wander the herb garden a horrid thing like me, her precious cure out of reach. I will keep the key so nobody can open the chest for her; instead, they will kill her on sight, and I will be the only one the boys can see.'
“Is this a bloody quest?” the healer laughed. “This has to be a player's lair.”
“The farm, you mean?” the warrior replied and turned the letter over to see it had nothing on the other side.
“So do we kill this Annabel or try to open the chest?” the archer asked.
“Sound’s like she’s guarding the chest,” the healer replied. “I might be able to turn undead and drive her off long enough to open it.”
“It didn't work on this one. I doubt it will work on her,” the warrior suggested and tossed the letter aside.
The archer picked it up and reread it before discarding it himself. “It says she is in the herb garden, and the chest is behind the rock. It doesn't say they are together.”
“Maybe we can get to the chest without aggroing her,” the warrior agreed and worked a shoulder. “Let's go find out; this is the most fun I have had in weeks.”
Heather watched them leave from Webster’s point of view and then saw Quinny look up and wave.
“Heather, summon some skeletons to fight for you and say things like I feel so sick and my wicked sister locked my chest. Let them hit you a few times until you feel really tired, then fall over and pretend to be dead. If they splash you with the potion or get you to drink it, fall to your knees and let your undead guise spell go away. I will take care of the rest.”
Heather broke the link and heard fighting from the farm fields. She quickly summoned six skeletons and scattered them about the herb garden before taking her place in the center. She was excited and nervous about being attacked but decided that it didn't mean anything in the end. Eventually, she saw them creeping through the trees and the archer pointing her out to the others. They tried to move around to the big rock at the side, so she decided to play up her role.
“I feel so sick,” she cried and held her stomach and coughed. “But my chest is locked, oh my wicked sister must have done it.”
“That has to be Annabel,” the warrior whispered from the trees outside the garden.
“Do we try to reach the rock? Some of those skeletons are awfully close to it,” the healer asked.
“I say we try to pull the close ones but be ready if it triggers all of them,” the archer said as he aimed his bow.
“Alright, let me put down a circle of protection,” the healer said and cast a spell that made a glowing ring appear on the ground. All three of them stood inside it, and the archer fired an arrow cracking the ribcage of a nearby skeleton.
Heather intentionally summoned weak skeletons, so when the first one turned, they all rushed in. She turned and tried to scowl as she spoke in her undead voice, rebuking them for coming to steal her cure.
“It's a mass pull!” the archer shouted, but the warrior screamed 'To me!' and every skeleton turned and ran right for him. Heather was impressed at how they complemented one another but realized she needed to present a threat herself. She made fists with her hands and stood her ground, cursing them for locking her chest. She raised a hand and pointed a chip of bone, hurling a rotting bolt through the air to splash on the warrior's shield.
“Great! She’s a ranged caster!” he growled as the second skeleton crumbled.
The archer aimed an arrow her way, and she put up a hand, causing a short wall of bones to appear between them. He cried out in alarm that she was defensive and offensive, and the healer ran up to try and turn her.
“Flee horrid creature!” he yelled from a dozen paces away as he presented a golden necklace.
Heather felt a pressure acting on her and knew it was his spell, but it passed a moment later, and she smiled wickedly.
“I feel so sick!” she wailed and held up a hand. Vines grew out of the garden, moving as if alive and swatting at the healer. He used his shield and tried to bat them away with a sword as his comrades finished the last of the skeletons and rushed in.
“You open the chest!” the warrior cried as he prepared to meet Heather.
The archer nodded and ran back, but Heather now acted enraged and reached for the scythe.
“I will harvest your souls!” she wailed and used her dash to close the distance. The warrior shouted “on me!” so she obliged him and ran right for him. She cut a line of sparks down his shield as she put her points spent in melee to good use. The healer and the warrior were amazed at how good she was in melee, both crying that this had to be the final boss fight. Heather nearly screamed when the first sword hit cut her side, it hurt but not how she expected, and she finally understood how health worked. She lashed back, cutting the warrior but taking a small stab from the healer. She wanted to press them and make them work for it, all the while wondering what Quinny had planned.
“What’s in the chest?” the warrior cried as Heather made him back away from a powerful swipe.
“A glass bottle full of blue liquid,” the archer yelled back.
“What do we do with it?” the warrior begged as Heather cut another line down his shield.
“Hold her down and make her drink it?” the archer offered.
Heather didn't like the idea of a bunch of men pinning her to the ground, so she opted to give them a little help.
“My potion!” she wailed. “I must wash my skin!”
“Splash her with it!” the warrior yelled as he tried to cut at Heather, only to have her jump away.
The archer took a moment to tie the potion bottle to an arrow, then fell to one knee and pulled back slowly.
“Aimed shot!” he cried and let the arrow fly.
Heather was astounded at how accurate the arrow flew, striking her in the forehead and nearly knocking her over. She was immediately coated in blue liquid that was healing her wounds. Playing along, she fell to her knees, dropping the scythe and cupping both hands over her face. She willed her guise of undead away as thick green, and black smoke seeped from her skin. A moment later, she was herself in a dirty dress and looked up at the astonished faces peering down at her.
“Annabel?” the warrior asked with a tight grip on his sword.
“You. You saved me from my horrible sister,” Heather said, now thoroughly enjoying the game.
“It worked,” the healer said.
“This is the best quest I have ever seen,” the warrior added and put his sword away. “Are you alright?”
Heather nodded, and he held out a hand to help her up. No sooner was she on her feet when a spectral voice called out her name. Heather turned to see a ghostly farmer walked through the trees and come right up to her.
“Annabel, my beautiful daughter, I was so worried this sickness would consume you,” he said and wrung his hands. “But this farm is no place for you anymore. Go my daughter, travel the road, and go to the tower. The princess will see you safely to your aunt in Bradshire.”
“Who wrote all this?” the archer asked.
“Shh,” the warrior said as the farmer turned to address them.
Heather heard Webster's voice in her head telling her to get walking and get to the road. She did as instructed, walking away as the farmer thanked the three heroes for rescuing his daughter. She glanced back to see him hold out a necklace and tell them it offered protection from disease before handing it to the warrior.
“I want it,” the archer argued.
“You got his boots in the house,” the warrior countered. “I’m the one who is always taking the hits.”
She wanted to laugh as she crossed over the gap in the farm fence then quickened her pace to get to the road. Around the house, she hurried until finally reaching the front yard that was full of zombies again. Quinny was waiting with Webster and waved at her to run faster.
“That was amazing. I wondered how you were going to survive that battle,” Heather said and then winced. “I had a lot of fun, but it did kind of hurt.”
“That's the beauty of being undead; you can pretend to be fully dead anytime you want. Put a heal on, and let's run before they see us. I summoned some zombies in the yard to slow them down so we can get away.”
They laughed and ran down the road as Heather finally understood the true joy of being a monster player with a lair. She wished they could all come back and stay to play with the adventurers and make things exciting. One way or another, she was going to bring her friends home so they could have experiences like this, like how Frank had been trying for weeks to make her understand. With a smile on her face, they ran for the tower, eager to tell Frank he was right.
