“Tolkien Street. We're here, Delga!”

 “I can see that.”

 “Sorry,” Aaba shrugged. Good old Delga, always as sassy as ever. She's also pretty sweet, though. “Guess we should start looking for a house with a nice garden.”

 “That'll be easy, it's right over there.”

 And Delga was right. Right where she was pointing, there was a beautiful, luscious garden. It was somehow contained in the small lot that belonged to the cottage. Much of the greens were leaking into the neighbouring lawns.

 It wasn't that hard to spot. Tolkien Street isn't the place you usually see fancy and well-kept houses. In fact, most houses in Geropunt looked the same. Small, rotting, and surrounded by grass that's just barely making it. At least in the summer, when there were more rains, they could be decorated with healthy grass and other plants that rose to meet the downpour. This house had that privilege all year round. 

 “You first,” Delga said. 

 Just a few more steps, and they'd be standing directly in front of the house, right in front of its dark front door. It had a gold handle and knocker, shaped like a skull. Luther was right about this place. Even the front door screamed “I got cash.”

“Alright, Luther,"- you see, just saying Luther would be an adequate substitute for scaredy cat-, “but what's our story?”

 “If she's home just ask her about her garden, old ladies love small talk about their gardens. Or, ask her for directions.” Delga threw her hands in the air, “Just make something up, she's probably 70! She'll buy it.”

 “Alright,” Aaba knocked three times, “but if she doesn't answer, I still want to-ah!”

 Aaba had, of course, used the knocker to knock, but she felt a sharp pain in her hand just a few seconds after. Checking it, she was bleeding! “What the-?”

“NOT HOME”

It was the skull that said that. The skull on the fancy gold knocker. It shouted at them in its little raspy voice, before returning to its original form.

“A mimic?” Delga said, “Or, an animate spell?”

Aaba's hand felt fine, it was just a little cut. They have the miracle of stoves but not the knowledge of basic science, otherwise she would be more careful than to just bleed all over the place. Rubbing it, she looked over to Delga. “Either way, you know the only place you can get either of those.”

If you were brave enough, you could venture into a dungeon, castle, or labyrinth yourself to get yourself a mimic, but it should be obvious how high the chances of you dying are. If you wanted to safely procure one, or get a spell done for you, you could go to a witch. And witches charged a heck ton for their services. This lady must be stacked!

“Do you still want to do this?” Delga said. “I mean, I kind of think robbing from this lady is a bit harsh. Plus, she's clearly gone into a lot of effort to protect herself and this place.”

“Don't feel bad, Delga,” Aaba said, “blame it on the king, or whoever is in charge up in that castle.”

“Guess you're right,” Delga said. “And, hey, maybe we'll get enough from this to be able to sustain ourselves.”

“How do you mean?” Abba asked.

They were already walking around the side of the house, looking for a good way to get in.

“We could buy a plot of land with a little house, buy some supplies, and just live on that little farm.” Delga said. They found a window that was already left slightly cracked, a perfect entryway. “Think about it, it'll just be us, growing our own food, far away from everyone else.”

“Would we take Luther, too?” Aaba had already climbed into the house, Delga followed suit.

“That freeloader?” But as soon as her leather boots made a thump on the hardwood floor, she seemed to have a change of heart. “Well, he could catch the mice.”

“We'd be dead without his help!”

“Oh, please. We feed that little stray just for taking a walk.”

“He gave us the idea in the first place.” Aaba said. She saw some gold, and began to pack it away into her satchel.

“That's right,” Delga played with some hanging herbs, “he's the one to blame.” 

“Hey, those herbs look exotic-” if Aaba's never seen it in the market before, she deems it from another country- “maybe those could fetch a good buck?”

“For grass? Good luck. Let's just stick to the shiny stuff.”

And stick to the shiny stuff they did. I know you don't care to hear about their whole process, and frankly neither do I. So, to summarize, they filled both their bags with all the shiny stuff they could find. Well, what could fit. They did find a giant gold statue of some sort of dog creature. It would be a nice thing to have, but there was no way they could lug it out of there without cathing unwanted notice.

There were only three rooms. A bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room/ whatever you need it to be room. As bizarre as it was to see a wealthy woman living in such squabble like this, what was even weirder was how most of her house seemed like a garden, just like the one a few feet out the door. They grew from pots of various sizes, though they did discover a patch of dirt in the kitchen with freshly sprouting greens. Herbs hung from the ceiling. Most were dry, and others were on their way to the same state.

“You know what, Aaba?” Delga said, “I think she's a witch.”

“Hmmm,” Aaba looked around. “Yeah, that would explain a lot.”

If they knew anything about witches, it was that they liked to live quiet lives, they recieved many gifts for all their favours (or to stay on your good side), and they needed lots of plants and what not to make their potions and spells. 

“Doesn't that freak you out?” Delga said. “She probably already knows we're here.Gods, she'll totally curse us.”

“Relax, witches don't have the ability to view their house from somewhere else. That's just ridiculous!” Aaba said. “She'll find all her stuff missing, and she'll have no idea who did it!”

“But that skull guy saw us, and she could use a tracking spell on us!”

“Hey, she won't be able to find us when we're far away in our little farm, right?”

“It'll take us forever to get that far, idiot.” Delga flinched as soon as she said it. “Sorry. Could we just put all this stuff back and hope that she's a forgiving witch?”

“Sure, sure. But first we gotta check out that trap door.”

“What trap door? Oh.”

Poorly concealed under a rug, was a trapdoor. That's right, this is turning into that kind of story.

“Help me move this table,” Aaba said. But, she didn’t even wait for Delga. She just moved the little table all by herself. Delga pulled away the carpet. “You know what, Delga, I just got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Don't witches have a big spellbook they keep hidden? A secret basement is the perfect place to hide something like that.” Aaba bent over to grab at the handle. “If we find that book and take it, she won't be able to do anything to us!”

“And if we don't find it?”

“Then we'll put all the stuff back, like you said. Promise.”

With a lot of effort and a lot of help from Delga, they got the door to open. Stairs made of hard packed mud led into the Earth below. 

“Let's just take this with us.” Aaba grabbed a lantern that was nearby. The witch probably used it for this exact thing herself! Even witches don't have night vision. 

“You first.” Delga said. 

“Alright, Delga. you just stay behind me, okay?” 

And down into the cellar they went, together.