Knock On The Door (Hope For Someone Helpful)

You think it would be nice to stop and at least see if they could lend a hand, as continuing with bare feet in this kind of swamp will more than likely give you trench foot or somekind of foot rot, maybe even a parasite. They could be bad people who practice magic all day to plot against the local townsfolk, but that could just be gossip blown out of proportion, plus you have your gear, so if they are evil or whatever, you can last long enough to get out or even kill them if at close range. No time to cast a spell when the attacker is two feet in front of you and the wizard only has a pointy hat and robes to defend themselves.

You make your way to the ladder, an old one laced in thick layers of moss, and climb up with dripping feet. You have to take care with your steps, almost slipping on a time or two when you don't pay attention to the next pole you stand on. You manage to scale the ladder without falling back into the swamp below, going from knees to standing up on your feet, now in front of the door, watching the colorful lights cascade through the glass in a slow moving light show for a moment before quickly mustering the will and try the metal knocker on the door. The lights zip and dash before shifting out of view along with a sudden shatter of glass and muffled feminine cursing in a hushed breath. Footsteps on old wood move toward you, each one causing a creek to echo down to the stagnated waters until they stop as a number of clicks and snaps sound off behind the door, presumably coming from locks. The door jerks open slightly, stopped by a few short chains with a shadowed purple colored eye peering through to you, meeting your own gaze. The door shuts and lets out a few more clicks and snaps before swinging completely open in an almost elaborate gesture.

A busty stacked human woman leans against the door frame with her right arm reaching up and to the top. She has a marvellous set of breasts but her ass is what really catches your attention. Curvy baby bearing hips and an hour glass figure with a fat, plump, smooth pair of cheeks that could swallow a man in a sec. She has puffy shoulder length hair in a dark violet and a fresh coat of amethyst lipstick across her thick lips. She wears a black witch's hat and a small black rob that seems to be so tight the bottom is only just below her ass, forming a short sleeved black dress.

She stares at you, deep into your retinas, almost burning through the back of your head. She asks "oh.... Can I... Can I help you sir?" with a seductive smile, waiting to hear your response. Her voice is soft and calming, like the call of a siren too far away to make you fall for its tricks. "I-I needed to stop for a moment and rest. Can... C-can I maybe stay for just a bit?" You answer with a surprised tone. She scans you up and down, stopping a moment at your feet and looking back up to your face. She steps out of the frame, back towards the interior, and greets you. "Well come in, come in. You'll get sick wandering out there barefoot. Take a seat over on the couch and I'll get you a nice warm drink. And maybe a pair of shoes."

You walk into the hut as a gust of foul smelling smoke hits your face. You wave it away as she shuts the door and locks it back up, clicking all of the chains, switch's, and bolts back to secure the door. No idea why anyone would need so many locks in the middle of a swamp. You look about the room to see a cluttered interior of herbs and bottles, along with stacked books and papers taped to random parts of the walls, clothes and cooking pots strown about, glass orbs hanging from the ceiling in twine nets with small mage lights inside to light the room. A black stained work bench sits to the other end to the room while a long alchemy station stands to your almost immediate left with herbs hanging from a suspended planter above heated and connected beakers, all set aside a large bubbling black brewing cauldron with a big wooden spoon dipped into the liquid it holds.

To your right is a long red couch covered in patchwork and a single green chair baring the same hasty repairs with a small wooden table between the two and books stacked on both ends, even a few behind the furniture as if she had stolen an entire library. They almost reach to the next level and just about form a wall between the living room and the back right area. A tall but thin spiral stair case sits in the center of it all, leading to the second floor. All you see from your view is some metal walls and an assortment of objects on a counter.

She walks off to the cauldron, plucking some plants and small things hanging from their perch as she passes by. You walk over to the couch, dropping down to sit back and extend your legs so as to air out your feet, still dripping with swamp water from the marshlands. The woman grinds and steers as you look about the home from the couch, noticing small details of scratch marks and burns in random places on the wood, or the furniture if you look hard enough. She dips a pitcher into the batch of the cauldron and fills an empty clear plastic cup with it. She walks back over to you and hands you the cup as steam rises up to your face.

"Now drink this, it will help you feel better." She sits down in the green chair next to the couch. It seems hot and bubbly as the solid green liquid steams in the cup. It smells nice enough to drink, but you don't really know her and she may have put anything into the cup, maybe even some curse or poison. But it could also be nothing more than an act of kindness that you are over thinking because of witch stereotypes. Is she even a witch?