Atop the hill overlooking a quiet village, there lived an elderly crone named Gelle. It was not uncommon for the nearby villagers to see strange lights dimly glowing from her disheveled home at strange hours. Whatever rituals she performed were for the most part ignored by the townsfolk; the few who dared confront her seemed to come down with strange and incurable diseases or meet their end in unfortunate accidents. The old hag was a dominating and malevolent force on the surrounding lands, leeching off of the hard work of others. She survived by extorting payment from nearby farmers, lest her displeasure manifest in other ways.

Gelle watched over the village through the window of her weather-worn shack, occasionally checking the various charms that protected her from the elements. Carved animal bone charms hung at strange angles, while straw dolls and carved animalistic figurines filled the various shelves that were not taken up by strange components in abstract containers. She gently placed her latest creation on the window with utmost care, making sure that her fingers did not contact the blood that dripped from the fetid rat heart she had impaled onto its surface.

Her concentration was broken as a crow swooped down into her home, landing on her cluttered table. “Ah yes, welcome home Osbert. Welcome, welcome. What news do you bring?” The old crone began to reach out to gently caress her avian pet, but she was unable to due to its incessant movement and enthusiastic cawing. “Hmmm... interesting. An injured vampire will be travelling through the village... Such a powerful creature. Oh, just think of the rituals. Just by drinking her blood I could... no, no... we must not forget our patron. But I am sure they would let me keep a few reagents, yes. Yes...” Pleased with the news it brought her, Gelle removed some dried meat to reward her loyal subject. After greedily gulping down its reward, the crow continued its report in a more hushed tone. “Hmmm,” her brow furrowing in frustration. “The night hunter’s presence will surely cause us some trouble. To be able to both injure and capture a vampire by himself, he must be a strong one. No matter, I am sure that our lord wouldn’t mind some of their tribute being used to secure this prize.”

The witch, now imbued with a new-found desire, bounded around her small house and engaged herself in self-centered conversations. “Hmmm, should I use monkshood? No, no, no. I must simply go all out for this one! Where is my wolf-fang powder?” The crow nestled itself on a spare nook, watching as his master danced around her tiny shack, gathering assorted herbs front various containers. The villagers below her hill could only shut their windows, trying their best to ignore the maniacal cackling that emanated from the hill.

-

The caravan arrived in the village just as the rain was beginning to settle in. Many of the visiting merchants quickly retreated into what little shelter they were offered. The few lingering villagers ran out to help their visitors secure their goods before the rain could cause any serious damage. Atop the hill Gelle watched from her crooked window, keeping an eye on her cauldron from whose wide-open mouth emanated a thick purple smoke. As the potion began to thicken, so did the storm clouds that loomed over the village driving all of the villages into their homes.

The decrepit hag sat alone in her dark cottage conserving her strength for the upcoming night, until a stray drop of water landed on her nose. It wasn’t until a second and then a third droplet fell onto her wrinkled old face, did she realise that something was out of place. “That is strange, I am sure my wards are still active, water should not be entering my...” Standing up from her chair, Gelle hobbled over to her window ledge counting her various talismans. “Where is it! Where is it? Where is my water protection ward?” Upon the sight of torn string, her confusion turned to rage. “Who dares steal from me!? They shall pay dearly for crossing me” After glancing up at the sky, the witch calmed down. “I have time and can spare some energy. Some punishment is surely in order...” Hastily Gelle parted the assorted clutter on her work bench, as to draw a magic circle using blood from her left index finger.

“O’ demon from beyond our plane, I summon you to inflict great pain.” A dim red light glowed from the circle, reacting to her words and cultivations. “I have been wronged as once before; I call on you to settle the score.” The magical energy intensified around the drawn sigil, rattling the various reagents that remained on the table. As her rites neared completion, Gelle manipulated the gathered powers to summon any dark soul who would listen. “Our ideals align to bring much pain, with my terms we both shall gain!”

Upon the completion of her incitation a black goat-like head rose from the bloody seal, its various horns carving indents into her worn desk. After a brief pause the demon spoke as to acknowledge the current situation. “I have answered your call. What is it that you will, witch?” Gelle reached for her stash of magical ingredients, “My warding talisman was stolen, yes, yes. I want you to kill whoever holds it tonight, when the moon is at its peak and then return the talisman to me.” The demon rose further from the summoning circle to expose its furred torso and arms. “What shall you offer me in return for this dead?” “The soul of the victim is yours to claim, I also offer these corrupted cow hearts, as my part of our deal. I hope this is acceptable.” The demon’s horns glowed green as it examined the hearts in their clay pot and spoke: “I accept these terms. I shall return...” As it disappeared, ancient black letters appeared on her forearm signifying their pact. Exhausted, Gelle lay back down to rest, preparing herself for tonight.