Predictably, it did not go well for the owner. He had cast some spell on Mr. Ratcliffe which prevented him from drawing his sword so it was down to Cosmo, Miss Honduran and myself to deal with this villain. He then cast something and I was feeling really angry. Well angry isn’t the right word, more jealous. Of Cosmo’s clothing. I mean, it’s all perfectly tailored (I’ve seen to that) but unhealthily jealous. As in, strip it from him whilst he’s wearing it jealous. Cosmo was rather lucky the spell seemed to fail rather quickly because I don’t think there was anything he could have done to stop me. I feel awful about it, I need to be stronger in the future, not just in body but in will. I assume Cosmo called for help because it wasn’t long before Father Brandt and Father Luxius arrived. Once they arrived, the Enchanter was quickly overwhelmed. Father Luxius then began to purge the area of demonic corruption with copious amounts of fire. With the Enchanter dead, some of the workers began to change back into their normal selves. Others quite conspicuously did not. These workers also happened to be carrying knives. Disarming them was simple enough although some insisted on trying to enchant me. Cosmo had my back however. Not long after the guard arrived and got to work processing everyone and investigating the scene. He seemed rather upset they refused his help but it was probably for the best that the professionals handled it.
After spending the rest of the night giving statements we were free to do as we will. The incident left us little time to prepare for stopping the “poachers” in the woods. A quick breakfast and a nap on the carriage there would have to suffice. I knew we were not stopping professional “poachers” but their inexperience shocked me. Outside a secluded log cabin we found a group of leather clad hunters, all of them around my age. It was quite obvious they hadn’t a clue what they were doing. Attempts at getting them to leave peacefully fell apart as they attempted to attack us. Well, if it was a lycanthrope they were hunting for, I was more than happy to oblige. The second they saw my claws they focused their fire on me, which is exactly what I was hoping would happen. We knocked them out fairly easily, although one of them tried to detonate a bomb right next to himself just to kill me. I could scarcely believe that someone could be so stupid and insane.
It wasn’t just the “poachers” that noticed my claws, Father Brandt and Miss Honduran noticed as well. Father Brandt did not seem to care at all at this revelation and was much more concerned with how much I was bleeding. Miss Honduran seemed somewhat confused but was very sorry about what she had said the other day about lycanthropes. I was going to answer whatever questions she had but then the old lady appeared. She seemed curious about what was going on and was apparently not a lycanthrope. Just as we were patting ourselves on the back for saving an old granny from being ambushed by a bunch of amateur hunters she lamented that we were taking them away because she’d much rather eat them.
This was no old lady, this was a hag.
As much as I maintain those hunters didn’t have a clue what they were doing, fire enough arrows and some will start to hurt. I was tired, bleeding and weakened. Unable to tap fully into my natural form the hag quite soundly tore me to shreds. Each claw digging and tearing the muscle, making me weaker and weaker. She even changed her form to resemble me in an attempt to trick my companions. She however made a mistake in her impersonation. She called for help. Shaking off their blindness the others easily brought her low and in a desperate attempt at self-preservation she turned herself into a tree. She did not realise the amount of fire Cosmo is capable of unleashing and she burnt to a crisp. Horrible way to go for a horrible thing.
We rested a moment in the cabin waiting for the “poachers” to awaken. I have to admit, it was very amusing watching Father Brandt give them the scolding of a lifetime. It’s a shame Miss Honduran had to ruin the mood by attempting to murder the crazy bastard who tried to blow himself up. I can understand why she did it, but I can’t say I approve. Father Brandt showed a cast iron set of morals stopping her. I’m not sure if it’s the absinthe or the blood loss but everything then gets a bit hazy. Not sure of the specifics but the courts sorted everything out with only the radical going to jail. I’ve got some time off while I recover from my fight with the hag. Although I don’t think I’ll drop everything, shopping and making reservations is not physically taxing.
I’ll have to get around to fixing up the cloak Miss Honduran gave me, it got a little scratched during the fight. I’m not sure why she insisted on giving us gifts, after all we all get worked up sometimes and lash out. All anyone can ask for is that we recognise our failings and work harder next time. Still, it would be the height of rudeness to refuse such a fine cloak. I’ll have to find some way to repay this but I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer.
Anyway, I shall enjoy my rest and look forward to what the rest discover about the Basilicus Maximus.