Deny the Deal

You stand, and rise to your feet, approaching the Mother slowly, who looks at you full of satisfaction. As you reach the throne, you give one last look of refusal, and spit on her.

To see the satisfaction wash from her face was worth it, a thousand times over. But a thousand is a number you've long since passed, now.

Now, your life is broken up only by the demons who enter your cell. You have no idea how long it has been.

The Guild never did come for you. You took on the risk, bit off more than you could chew of your own accord, and nobody is looking for you. A part of you wonders if you should have swallowed your pride and joined the coven, but there's no going back now, and they can never take that victory from you.

At first you resisted. A proud warrior like you would never give in, never give them the satisfaction. But eventually, you started to play along. Giving it your best skills made them finish faster, giving yourself in your entirety meant maybe you'd get a blanket or some bread for the night.

But you don't try to speed it along anymore. It's the only distraction you ever get, the only thing you can live for. You've never felt more shame than the first time you realized you were looking forward to the next piece of meat in your face.

You have failed to slay the Witchmother.