To kill, or not to kill a Mocking-hag

Ethel’s laughter slithered out from the haze, the sound cutting through the dying echoes of battle. The witch stood at the back edge of the battlefield, framed in green mist, her smile cruel and triumphant. “Oh, darlings… you thought it was over?” she purred, her voice echoing from all sides like a curse. Then she split apart—her form cracking like a mirror, shards of her being bursting outward. Four Ethels materialized at once, cackling in unison, their eerie eyes blinking in sync.

“Hold Person!” They all said as one.

The air buzzed as the spell took hold. Invisible tendrils of energy whipped through the battlefield, freezing my companions mid-motion. Lae’zel’s blade stopped before it could strike Minthara, Shadowheart’s casting died in her throat, Kagha stopped mid-motion, having crept not too far from the Ethels, and Karlach’s beaten form went still, eyes wide, muscles trembling against unseen chains.

The four hags laughed in unison. “Such a fine collection of toys,” they sang. “Let’s play until they break.”

They cackled as they hurled globes of poison slime onto the ground, forming a tight circle of hissing green vapors around the tieflings. The toxic mist rose quickly, **** and burning, forcing them to stagger back against the stonewall and cutting them off completely.

My hands flared with eldritch light. I unleashed a twin blast that tore through the smoky air, hitting the closest two of her clones. The green illusions exploded into mist. Kagha gasped as the spell’s grip broke, Lae’zel snapping free beside her. But before either could move, Ethel only laughed—two new clones snapping into being beside her like reflections crawling back into place.

“You’re lucky four is the limit, petal,” she said flat. “Usually, this would be game over for a pathetic band like yours. But it hardly matters...” Her grin spread into something monstrous. “..Seems like it is anyway.”

With a wave of her hand and a sickly green light, four figures poofed into existence around me—people, not monsters. Each wore a cursed mask, eyes glassy and hollow. Ordinary villagers, twisted into Ethel’s thralls. They moved without thought, their faces frozen in agony as they seized me from every side. My Jolty Vest flared once, discharging it's accumulated powers into the first two thralls, stunning them momentarily. The remaining charge died there, leaving the vest empty and unresponsive as the other two lunged in, grabbing me by the arms and dragging me down. Their grips were iron, their breath ragged, and I was dragged to my knees, pinned and helpless as one of the Ethels sauntered closer.

“Finally caught you, my sweet little worm,” she cooed, leaning close. “Do you have any idea how long Auntie’s been waiting to carve that smug grin off your face?”

Before I could answer, another voice spoke—cold, furious.

“Move aside, hag,” Minthara spat, limping forward, her armor cracked and smoking. “The warlock’s mine. I’ll make him **** on every vile thought he fed me.”

Ethel smirked, her claws tracing the air. “Oh, you two have history? How delightful,” Ethel cooed, her tone lilting like a mockery of affection. “Auntie always says pain tastes better with a side of vengeance.”

The other Ethels snickered as Minthara stalked closer, her mace dragging across the stone, sending sparks flying.

Minthara’s gaze locked on mine, **** in her eyes. “I’ll peel your skin and make you beg for mercy.”

Ethel turned back to me. “So, dearie… any last tricks?”

I smiled thinly. “Yes. do you remember our deal?”

Her grin soured. “I’ll find the brats, with or without you.”

“Oh, You wont have to, here they are.” I raised my voice. “Small Hands!”

The cavern roof came alive.

A roar of stones rained from above, crashing through the air with perfect precision. The first rock struck one clone, then another, and another—poof! poof! poof! poof!—until every single illusion vanished in green bursts. The spell broke instantly. The girls collapsed to their knees as the bindings dissolved, Kagha rolled to her feet, Lae’zel already raising her sword, Shadowheart hastily brushed off her gown, and Karlach let out a roar, ready to charge.

Ethel yelped, stumbling as the rocks tore into her illusions. She raised her hands to cast again, but each time she summoned a clone, the children’s stones struck faster—destroying her creations before they could act. “Stop it!” she shrieked, her voice climbing into hysteria. “Stop it, you little shits!”

****, she vanished in a shimmer of green light.

But the children didn’t stop.

The hail of rocks slammed into the empty air, each impact outlining her invisible body—thuds and cracks painting her in faint outlines of dust and light. The invisibility flickered, shimmered, and shattered entirely. She stumbled back into view, howling as she tried to run for cover.

The thralls froze, staring wide-eyed as realization struck—they had just seen their mistress humiliated. Shock rippled through them, their hollow eyes flickering with a trace of human fear. As the barrage continued, whatever was left of their mind broke beneath the weight of terror. In blind panic, they released me and fled, stumbling over each other in their rush for the nearest cave, muttering and crying out in dread of Ethel’s coming punishment.

“Cowards!” Ethel screamed after them, but the words barely left her lips before another barrage of stones pelted her mercilessly.

I rose to my feet, brushing dust from my sleeves. “You’re losing your touch, Auntie, can't even handle a few kids?”

Minthara snarled, taking her chance. “You’ll regret this arrogance.” She lunged, mace raised high.

I turned toward her and fired point blank both hands. Twin bolts struck her square in the chest, sending her crashing to the ground hard. She gasped, then let out an involuntary, breathy moan that echoed across the cavern. She was out cold, an orgasmic scowl frozen on her face.

The children’s laughter filled the silence.

Ethel was still there, curled beneath a relentless rain of stones, shrieking as they pummeled her. The sound of giggling above—innocent, delighted—made the scene both comical and horrifying. The ancient hag, reduced to a trembling heap by a group of children.

“Enough!” I called.

The rain of stones stopped. Ethel collapsed, heaving, her hair wild and her skin mottled with bruises. Karlach strode forward and grabbed the hag by the throat, lifting her effortlessly.

“Can I kill her now?” Karlach’s voice was almost casual.

Ethel’s eyes darted between us. “Stop! Stop! I’ve learned my lesson!” she wheezed. “I’ll go back to my swamp—swear it! Here—take your loot!” She tore a lock of greasy hair from her scalp and threw it at my feet. “Payment enough, yes?”

“Not so fast,” I said, stepping closer.

Her grin twitched, sharp and mocking. “What, you’re going to kill me, hmm? Killing me won’t help you, petal. I’ll be back in a month or so. Let’s be civilized about this.”

“You’re not leaving this grove,”

Her eyes widened. “What? Why? Has that worm in your skull eaten your brain?”

“Karlach,” I said quietly. “Hold her still.”

Karlach grinned, tightening her grip until Ethel’s breath came in wheezing gasps. I reached forward, pressing my hand against her filthy skin. It was slick, cold, and revolting. I turned my fingers as though locking a key.

“Curse of Forbidden Release”

Light flared—pink and pulsating. A glowing heart-shaped mark with a black lock sigil burned into her skin. Ethel hissed, writhing until the glow sank beneath her flesh.

Karlach blinked. “What in the hells is that supposed to be?”

Ethel looked down, eyes wide. “What—what is this? A curse? I don’t feel anything.” Her voice trembled. “Those are usually the worst kind.”

“It’s a climax lock,” I said, my tone even. “You’ll never feel true pleasure again. Leave, and live with the mark forever—or stay below, bound to this grove, and I'll remove it”

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then my words landed.

Shadowheart groaned, dragging her hand over her face. “You can’t be serious.”

Lae’zel spat, glaring daggers. “This is your plan? K'chakhi—fagh wo'h chox..”

Karlach burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Haha. Good one! But really—what does it do?”

Kagha came closer, gently laying a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head during the fight?” She asked softly.

Ethel didn’t speak. And I knew why—a horrible little secret. At the very end of the game, if the player had sided with her several times, she sends a Thank-You letter with a raunchy ending. Ethel was a freak, a pervert, and to a pervert this would be a fate worse than ****—a cheeky dev easter egg turned into my trump card, and lo and behold, it seemed to work.

Her jaw tightened. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple. The laughter around me faded as realization dawned on the others. They turned from her to me, eyes widening.

I smiled faintly. “I’ll even let you keep the stone dwarf.”

Ethel’s eyes went wide. “You devil,” she spat, voice trembling. “You demon! Filthy little eel!” She twisted in Karlach’s grip. “Fine! You win!” Her tone cracked between fury and resignation. “You got me, you wretched little worm!”

Karlach let her go. Ethel stumbled, clutching her chest, the pink sigil glowing faintly beneath the grime. She turned toward the sanctum and grotto—not the gate, muttering curses under her breath.

Shadowheart stared incredulous. “No! This one is too much. There’s no way that actually worked.”

Lae’zel was silent, her eyes kept darting between Ethel and me, back and forth, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Karlach dropped to the ground, laughing so hard she wheezed. “You’re insane—I love it.”

Kagha smiled, eyes shining. “As expected of you, my clever warlock. You out-schemed the hag. And all of us.”

For a long moment, I simply stood there, watching the old witch waddle away. If she had refused the deal, we could have just taken her head and deal with her later—it was a scenario I’d already come to accept. But somehow, impossibly, my plan had worked. And I even managed to get another witch hair.

Most importantly, the battle was over, and we had won.