Greenwitch

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • G R E E N W I T C H • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Nickname: (none) Role: witch-doctor, spellcaster Origin: AH purchase Affiliation: (NPC) Faction: (none)

Greenwitch is a witch-doctor who specializes in the darker arts. Although she is not a healer, she can cure anything. She's also very skilled with curses. As such, many dragons visit her, despite her... unusual payment plans.

Very little is known about this mysterious Pearlcatcher -- though there are two facts every dragon knows. First, that she is a student of odd magic. Second, that only the desperate pay her a visit. Those who have been to her lair recount that the Pearlcatcher claims she can make anything reality.

She showed up at the Coven late one night from seemingly nowhere. She proposed that she stay with the Coven as a healer, though her arrogance made her bedside manner deplorable. Still, she was allowed to stay since the Coven had lost many healers in the recent months. Greenwitch required no training, even knowing a few remedies that were unknown to the oldest healers. Although she was blunt, rude, and insensitive to her patients, she never lost one, even bringing a few back from the break of death...though none knew how she did it. That is, until she offered help to the wrong dragon.

She had seen the rage in Midnight's eyes as his uncle once again slandered the good name of his mother. She had seen the same spark in the eyes of all her clients. Greenwitch offered to take revenge against the Coatl. She never accounted for him saying no. Nor was she prepared for him to call her out for the offer.

It was that small miscalculation that led to the Pearlcatcher being stripped of her right as a healer, and banished to the edge of the Coven. Many say it was her magic that kept her from being completely cast out. However, her new location has done little to drive away her market. She openly advertises that she can do anything for a price. Her price varies from customer to customer: it can be money, a treasured object, a scraping of a claw, a freshly plucked eye, or your very soul. What the price will be is anyone's guess, but it's for this reason that they say only the desperate come to her. Though for those who are willing to pay, Greenwitch offers everything.

"I can bottle wealth and cage luck. I can tell you ten words to make someone fall in love, and five to help them pass without pain. I can make real your greatest desire, or cause any problem to vanish like sand in the wind. So now I ask...what brings you here, stranger?"




Being banished to the edge of the clan’s territory failed to deter Greenwitch. She continued to practice her dark arts, and when the clan learned of this, they drove her away for good. She remained unconcerned: The world was wide, and surely there were dragons out there who would properly appreciate her services.

While life on the road didn’t suit her, it had merits of its own. It was easier to find new clients...and easier for her to disappear, before her magic rebounded upon them and destroyed their lives and dreams. It became common for her to cast curses: on an innkeeper who was too slow in serving her, for example, or a traveler who jostled her on the road. By the time they felt the sting of her spells, she was already far away — out of reach of retribution.

She didn’t think one of her victims would come back to haunt her. He had been a common swindler, and the potions he’d stolen from her had been inconsequential. But so great was the insult that Greenwitch had cursed him with one of her vilest spells, the curse of eternal decay. Death had failed to release his soul from his body, and he had been forced to wander the earth as an undead wreck, tormented by wounds that would never heal.

He came crawling to her lair, begging for forgiveness, and she laughed and prepared to destroy him. But to her utter horror, he wasn’t alone: He had, through some unknown means, harnessed the aid of two death-spirits, and now he set them upon her. Greenwitch was cast from the cliffs where she dwelled, and dashed upon the rocks below.

She had prepared for this. It was a scheme that had been many years in the making, one that would anchor her to life. But nothing had been able to prepare her for the reality of it. The shock of her heart restarting. The ache of blood flowing again through her veins. The deep-seated agony of her bones, her muscles, slowly moving again. And the crackle and buzz of many thoughts, disjointed, jittering inside her shattered skull.

It is said that a witch must be wary of casting a curse, lest it rebound upon them threefold. And it seemed that the one she’d cast upon the Obelisk had also ensnared her. She was worse off than he’d been: an undead abomination, with no hope of healing...or of peace.

She dragged herself into the dark forest, and it is said that she still lurks there to this day. Only the most desperate — or deranged — seek her out now. After all, in life, she was a powerful sorceress. Perhaps they’ll get lucky and catch her on a good day, when her mind is clear and her magic potent...

...or they’ll be less fortunate and find themselves cursed, as tormented as she is now.