Q&A #1

Harken and behold, all those who seek knowledge
There is one goddess who knows all things
And to learn, you must seek out her cottage

But first, a singular coin you must bring
Engraved with her symbolic home on its tail
And the other, an eye or lone bird’s wing

Next, follow the road to the end of the trail
To a great clearing where trees shan’t grow
Place the coin on the ground, then exhale

A dark secret, one that only you know
In a whisper- so that Baba Yaga may learn
Of that which you hide, then her hut shall go

To you, and to her the coin shall return
And if you are willing to pay the great price
Her secrets and her knowledge you shall earn

But you must beware and heed my advice
While her knowledge of all is certainly vast
And her unworldly gains always entice

The price she demands will often surpass
What you can pay - and your first breath before her shall be your last

The yellowed parchment crinkles in your hands as you read off the final words a few more times. You had garnered a great many questions of which only the Wild Witch could answer, yet the looming specter of **** was almost enough to deter you from your knowledge seeking quest. However, no great discovery was without its risks, and to answer your questions you knew that such a gamble was necessary.

When you had started off on your quest, you had known that it would not be easy. Baba Yaga was an elusive goddess, one that even the other gods had trouble locating. Thankfully a bit of research had found you the poem that now laid in your hands, but that had only been the first of several steps in your search. The next, and honestly hardest part was finding the mysterious coin that had been referenced. Search after search turned up empty handed, with many in the Abyss stating that the coins didn’t actually exist. They said that these mysterious “Yaga Coins” were created by a cult in the early 1800s but were more just meant to be an indicator of who existed in the cult. Due to the off-putting practices of this cult, mostly in their sacrifice of various mundanes, the Order had stamped them out. Any coins that had been owned by cult members were melted down, and most texts written by the cult were burned or locked away.

However, this did not deter you from your search. After all, you managed to find the poem, which was written by the cult, so it was not hard to conclude that a few coins could still exist out there. So, your search continued. And as the days turned to weeks and the weeks into months, you had almost given up hope of ever finding a coin.

That is until you managed to find a seller on the Abyssal Auction selling off a bag of old coins. He said he had found them while cleaning out an old dungeon beneath his castle and didn’t want them in fear of a possible curse (the seller was a superstitious old coot). With a quick purchase, and even quicker delivery, you had managed to get your hands on the bag. And after a quick digging through, there in the center of the pile laid the mysterious Yaga Coin, slightly oxidized but still in an overall decent condition.

Flash forward to today, approximately a week after finding the elusive coin. It had taken just a quick google search to find the appropriate hilltop that fit with the poem’s description and the remainder of the week to travel to said site. While you guessed you could try any area that happened to be removed of trees, the poem did specify that the trees “shan’t” grow in the specific clearing, so it might be that you had to use the coin in unfertile soil. Better safe than sorry, after all. The site in question that you had found was nearby an old mine, with tons of salt rich earth having been dumped into the nearby woods creating a clearing that was completely infertile, and thus, barren of trees.

Slowly you take a knee, fishing the coin out of your pocket before sliding it into the soft dead earth. Then with a quick whisper of your darkest secret, and a quick prayer for luck, you look around to see if it worked.

At first, nothing happened. The only thing doing any sort of moving was simply the wind blowing through the distant trees. Then just as you were about to reach for the coin to try this again somewhere else, you could hear a distant rumbling. The earth began to shake beneath your feet and the sounds of birds flapping away in desperation could be heard. The rumbling slowly grew in its loudness, till it had fully defined itself into huge quacking stomps from some unknowable object. With a quick swivel of your head, you can see what is causing all the noise, and the sight is something to behold. Ahead of you, about 40 feet into the tree line, you can see the top roof of a cottage of sorts where there was once naught but trees. Then as you watch the cottage shifts to the left. Then back to the right. Then to the left again, with each sway being in perfect timing with the stomping noise. Just as you are about to back up in fear, the strange hut breaks through the tree line and stands there, yes, stands there on a pair of chicken legs in its full glory.

The hut itself looks quite old, with the structure of the house being made of dark wood with old bark as the shingles and paneling. The house sits on about half a foot of dirt, and beneath said dirt are a pair of chicken legs with black feathers at the top and yellowed orange scales flecked with dirt for the entire ten feet that they seem to encompass. Atop the dirt and surrounding the hut is a fence made up of what you, at first, assume to be thin sticks but after a close inspection you realize the fence is made from human bones. The fence spans the entire circumference on the house, with only a small break in front of the house’s porch. Said porch is made up of the same foundational wood as the rest of the house, but with the bonus of various charms and trinkets hanging from it in various places. From the house streams bright warm orange light, akin to that of a crackling fire in a hearth.

Suddenly you can feel the ground at your feet being to rumble and churn, and a quick look down reveals that the coin you had just previously buried is slowly emerging from the soil. Before you can even react to try and stop it, the coin manages to free itself and zip straight towards the door of the hut, almost like a magnet attracting a paper clip. Just as the coin is about to slam against the hut’s door, said door swings open and an old, grizzled hand manages to catch the coin at the last possible second. There, standing in the doorway of her hut and giving you an amused yet terrifying smile is the Ancient Witch of the Wood, Baba Yaga.

She looks down at her hand holding the coin and chuckles softly to herself. “My my my… it has been years since anyone has gotten to use one of these.” She then quickly bites onto it, laughing hysterically as she does. “Still tastes of Chicken blood, Vodka and Pomegranates! Those old cultists really knew how to make good coins.” She tucks the coin away into her vestments, seemingly handspun and traditional of the Slavic area she originates from. She peers down at you and flashes her sharp teeth at you. “So, you have managed to get my attention. One must ask why you would go seeking old Baba Yaga…”

You slowly draw a breath, standing a bit straighter before saying in a strong voice “Oh great Baba Yaga, I have been able to watch the saga of Johnathan Benjamin Newman unfold, yet I still have many questions about those who inhabit this world, gods and mortals alike. You are rumored to be privy to all knowledge, even knowledge that is locked away from the gods. I wish to have my questions answered and am willing to pay whatever price is necessary.”

Baba Yaga stays silent for a moment, looking you over like one would appraise a horse. Then she barks out a short laugh before turning towards her cottage and motioning for you to follow. “Come in then. We shall discuss your payment once we discuss which questions you have to ask.” The moment she finishes talking, two pairs of ropes shoot off from the entrance of her hut, anchoring themselves in the ground in front of you. Then several planks of wood magically appear between two of the ropes, while the other two ropes attack themselves in such a way to make a rope bridge right up towards her door.

You gulp, and for a moment the thought crosses your mind that you may be getting in a bit over your head. However, you did not come this far to give up and, after steeling your nerves, you take your first few steps up the bridge into the hut of Baba Yaga.

The inside of Baba Yaga’s hut is very warm and homely, everything illuminated thanks to various candles and the firepit that gave the whole cottage a relatively warm orange glow. Excluding the contents of the hut, it reminds you of a study or a library, just a very cozy location to read and take a nap away from a cold winter’s day. However, the various items that filled the home destroy any sense of ‘comfort’ or ‘home’ that could be felt. The cottage is filled with various shelves, chests, tables, and stools that all seemed to be made from differing kinds of wood, and upon these various pieces of furniture is all manner of ingredients and bottles intended for the brewing of potions. Some of the things are rather tame, such as strips of bark, shiny stones, mushrooms, and the occasional feather or tuft of fur. Some of the things are a bit more on the suspicious side, such as animal tails, beaks, bits of meat, and what looks like the pelt of an endangered animal. However, when you notice the human skulls and tongues sitting on a bookshelf, and then notice that the tongues seem to still be moving, you decide your attention is best kept off whatever Baba Yaga keeps around her hut.

Speaking of the witch is currently tossing various ingredients off her shelves into what you assume to be a cauldron, but after a quick look you note that it is her mortar that she uses to fly across the sky. She is using her large walking stick, which you note is the pestle, to help her reach some of the ingredients and, occasionally, smash some of the larger items she wishes to throw in. Just as you are about to speak up, you feel the ground lurch under your feet, and realize that the hut just got up and is walking to who knows where. This doesn’t seem to bother Baba Yaga in the slightest, as she continues to toss ingredients into her mortar with the same accuracy and pernicious despite the constant swaying of the hut.

“So, tell ol’ Baba… What are the questions you seek answers to?”

You take a moment to try and find some footing before reaching into your pocket and pulling out a piece of paper with various questions scrawled upon it. These weren’t just your questions, but rather a collection of questions from various people across the world. You just happened to be the one who had the drive to seek the answers from Baba herself. She takes the paper from you and reads through it, her other hand continuing to pick out various items and toss them into the mortar. You can feel the hut move faster, with the shaking and swaying becoming wilder as the hut breaks into a run. The potion in the center of the room starts to give off some off-smelling fumes, and when combined with the swaying of the room, you start to feel ill and hope you can get to a window before you lose your lunch.

Then, just as you are about to run to the door, Baba snaps her long-gnarled fingers. The house instantly stops, and the potion’s fumes stop. The potion turns a bright golden color, and a spoon lifts itself from a nearby table and begins to stir the strange concoction. She walks over to her mortar and takes a small sip from the spoon.

“Mmmm… Oregano, Cinnamon, Rosemary, with just a hint of Skaven Blood. If only the mundanes were so good at their soup creations.”

You give Baba a confused look. “Did… did you just make soup?”

Baba rolls her eyes. “Of course, I made soup! You think I would drink this if it were not soup?” She grapes the spoon and quickly serves herself a bowl. She then grabs a tiny mushroom off a table next to her, gives it a quick sniff, and tosses it into the bowl. The soup quickly changes color from gold to green, and you can almost hear something akin to a whisper coming from the concoction.

“Now it is potion.” She says with a giggle before sticking her pestle into the liquid and giving it a few stirs. She looks over at you, and it is just now that you notice one of her eyes is a dead milky white while the other glows the same green as her potion. You feel as if she is not just looking at you, but rather through you, learning more about you than you were ready to reveal. “Are you ready to ask your questions?”

“What about my payment?” You ask hesitantly.

She gives you a dismissive wave. “I have learned much from you already. This is payment enough for a few simple-minded questions.”

“Hey, my questions aren’t simple minded!”

Baba gives you an incredulous stare before pulling out the paper she took from you, slowly reading off “To Frida, Mavis, Talia, Freya, and Brenda. What are your favorite sex acts?”

You blush and look away. “Well… they aren’t simple minded. Just… horny.”

She cackles and gives the potion another stirs. She then raises one of her arms above the potion and drops in a few small leaves. “To Odin, King of the Aesir, what were your opinions of John Newman breaking your edict on runic magic?”

As the leaves hit the liquid, the potion begins to give off a green smoke or fog that billows out of mortar and around your feet. As she finishes her question, the smoke slowly seems to shape itself into the figurine of a tiny man. As it continues to take shape, you see various defined features form such as a long spear, beard, and battle armor indicating he is a Nordic warrior. Then, as more features are created, you realize that the smoke is forming into a tiny Odin. The Odin looks up to both you and Baba Yaga before softly speaking.

“I knew this was going to come up sooner or later. Honestly, I was a little… irked at first. I made that rule for a reason, and I really did not expect Gaia to go behind my back and find some sort of sneaky solution as to how to bring back runes. But honestly… I do have to give props to John for working for that rune, at least a little bit. Not every John is going to figure out how to make their magic flow into a runic symbol, much less one of a dead runic language.”

With that the tiny Odin turns and walks to the edge of the mortar, taking a seat on the edge of the mixing bowl. Before you can react, Baba has already grabbed more leaves and proceeds to drop them in.

“Johnathan Benjamin Newman, The Gamer and Runic Mage, PS5 or Xbox Series X?” Baba rolls her eyes at this question, muttering under her breath “At least you did not ask where to find either of these for low price. I swear, some mages out there think that gods and goddesses are just magical versions of Amazon or eBay…”

The tiny John finishes forming, brushing off his pants before speaking up. “I would say PS5. Xbox doesn’t really have any good exclusives anymore, so I might as well go with the one that gets me some exclusive games. Plus, the PS5-chan memes were great.” John turns and goes to sit next to Odin, who is currently petting a small ghost version of one of his ravens.

Again, Baba has already grabbed several leaves and drops them into the concoction. “Mavis, Sword of Souls and Companion of John Newman, do you think any of the skaven are cute or are they all gross and disgusting?” Baba turns to you and gives you an unsettling smile. “I think they are adorable. Especially when one of them bites the throat out of another. Such fun!”

You turn away from Baba Yaga as she begins to laugh and instead focus on the tiny Mavis that has formed in from of you. She looks away and says “Look, the skaven are a bunch of fleas bitten, filth loving, cannibalistic rat monsters who do nothing but burrow, eat, kill, and fuck. I find all of them disgusting and would rather see to it that they are nothing more than bones at the bottom of a pit.”

Before she can turn around and walk away, tiny John speaks up with a smile. “What about Skriskrueel?”

Mavis gives a small grumble, kicking away some imaginary dirt or rocks at her feet. “.... He is the one exception. He knows how to actually groom and hold a decent conversation.”

You nod at Mavis’ answer. ‘At least she doesn’t hate all skaven.’ you think to yourself as Baba prepares for another question.

“Talia Nevergreen, elven swordswoman and daughter of the revolution, what was your daily routine before John came into your life?”

In no time at all a tiny Talia has formed, dressed in clothes that indicate she is currently enjoying her time in the mundane world.” Boring mostly. I would wake up, go for a small jog around the neighborhood, come home, eat breakfast, go to my magic classes, ignore everything the teacher said while reading swordplay books, go practice swordplay at the first moment I could get away, go home, shower, and chill for a while before going to bed.”

The tiny John speaks up, and it is then you notice that the tiny Mavis has taken her seat to be John’s lap. “Did you help out your dad in the forge?”

Talia nods as she walks back to join Mavis with John. “Yeah, usually during my chill out time. Watching and helping dad work can be very soothing.”

“On that note…” Baba says as she drops in more leaves, “Hálfdan Leifson, son of Leif Erikson and smith of many weapons, what do you consider to be the best item you’ve ever smithed?”

A tiny Hálfdan soon forms, a small hammer and set of tongs in his hands showing that real life Hálfdan is probably working in the forge. “Oooo…. That’s a tough one. I’ve been smithing for well over two hundred years at this point and have made a lot of good pieces in that time… but if I had to choose one… I would probably go with Spydafugle. It was a spear I forged for my father after he ascended to Valhalla. It was enchanted to be able to turn into a flock of ravens after being thrown before returning to the thrower’s hand.”

The tiny Talia speaks up from her spot-on John’s lap. “Whatever happened to that spear, dad?”

Hálfdan shrugs. “No idea. I placed it in his tomb, but it ended up disappearing when I went to go pay my respects a month later. I hope he found it and is using it to fight alongside Odin, but I suppose I’ll never know.”

Baba then grabs a large handful of leaves, and nearly tosses them onto Hálfdan as she asks, “To Odin, Tyr, Thor, Freya, and Heimdallr, the highest of gods on Asgard, what is your opinion on the skavens, and how does one get rid of them from their house.”

You watch as a menagerie of small gods forms from the smoke. Tiny Thor laughs as he punches tiny Tyr on his shoulder. Tiny Heimdallr looks over to tiny John and gives a nod, and tiny Freya gives tiny Odin a kiss on the cheek after he walks over from his spot on the side of the mortar. Freya is the first one to speak up. “Those pests make wonderful food for my cats. Other than that, they are a mistake of a species.”

Odin sighs and looks over to his queen. “Oh, come on Freya, they aren’t that bad-”

Heimdallr speaks up. “No, I gotta agree with Freya on this one. I’ve seen some of the stuff they do, they are pretty gross.”

Thor laughs and throws Mjolnir into the air before catching it. “Ah, but you cannot deny they are tenacious fighters! They are a wonderful challenge when attacking you as a horde! Plus, you get so many confirmed kills with them!”

Odin sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose “This is exactly why Richard doesn’t ever want to come feast with us.”

Tyr looks over to his king and shrugs “... They are backstabbers, cheats, and have no honor. I’m rather glad Richard doesn’t come feast with us if he's anything like his people.”

You look around at the summoned figures who are all chatting and lounging on the side of the mortar. Baba takes some leaves and drops them in, asking with a cruel grin. “Frida Bragadóttir, elemental mage, slayer of Skummelt, if you ever ended up having sex with John Newman, the boyfriend of your daughter, where would you prefer to take his dick?”

The question causes everyone else to stop and look up at you, causing you to blush. “I… It’s a legit question!”

You look over to the center of the mortar, where a tiny Frida has formed. She looks up at you, then looks over to her daughter, to Hálfdan, and then to John before saying softly “I do not plan on sleeping with my daughter’s boyfriend. Even if I bet his dick would feel great in the ass.” She then struts over to her husband and straddles him, giving him a large kiss while everyone watches. Everyone, that is, except Talia who is hiding her face in her hands and groaning in embarrassment.

Baba Yaga laughs hysterically before stirring the pot a bit. “Alright, to all of the females I have summoned, what is your favorite sex act?

Freya speaks up first while she braids one of her various locks. “Oh, I would have to say tit fuck. Nothing quite as nice as feeling a hard cock between the girls or having a man finish on your chest. You don’t even have to give up the goods to make him your bitch.”

Mavis is the next one to speak up, with a short and simple word. “Threesomes.”

Directly after her is Frida, who pauses in making out with her husband to say “I love blowing my man. Or my lady. Oral in general is a great amount of fun.”

Finally, Talia speaks up softly, and you note she is trying her damndest to not look even slightly in her mother’s direction. “R-riding. I like riding a cock.”

You look over to Baba Yaga, who gives you a glare. “Do not ask. I do not want to answer, and you do not want to know.” She then turns back to the mortar and asks, “Which god is most likely to kill their own priests by accident?”

The gods don't even hesitate before all saying at the same time “Thor.” Thor, meanwhile, just shrugs and laughs, slapping his hand so hard on the mortar that you swear begins to crack slightly.

Baba does not seem to notice or care, just continuing with the questions. “Odin, how fluffy are Hugnin and Munin, and what are their favorite treats?”

Tiny Odin waves his hand, and as he does so two raves emerge from out of the smoke and land on his shoulder. “They are both rather fluffy, though Hugnin is a bit more of a cuddler than Munin. Hugnin loves little peanuts and other various nuts while Munin loves playing fetch with small bits of chicken that you throw into the air. Though neither of them can resist the smell of fresh goat or sheep.”

“Odin,” Baba says before the god can sit back down. “Where are Gere and Freke?”

Odin grins and looks up at you with a knowing expression on his face. “Oh, they are… hunting. Hunting someone very specific.”

“Freya and… oh, myself. What achievement would you want John to get in the future if you were to create one for him?” Before Freya can muster up an answer, Baba turns to you and gives you a grin. “Who says that I have not already? Gaia can owe old Baba Yaga a favor or two, and perhaps these have turned into achievements or quests for our little Newman.”

She then turns over to Freya, who has stood up and looks over to John. “I would say… something about treating his ladies right. I more than anyone know what it is like to be neglected by a traveling husband, so I would want to ensure that Mavis and Talia are treated right.”

Baba then looks at the sheet and drops in some more leaves. However, these leaves are golden rather than the collection of green and brown from the last batches. “Science, writer and procrastinator, are God runes going to have new uses at higher levels?”

You watch as the leaves dissolve and form into another figure, but this one is made from golden smoke rather than green. In addition, the features of this figure are much vaguer. All you can tell is that they are wearing a lab coat, have a journal in hand, and they seem to be smiling widely. “Ooooooh, I can actually answer this one! This will all be explained in story early in arc two, but since you guys are taking the time to read the Q&A, I figure there is no shame in revealing a bit of info about how this kind of magic works. Runes themselves have three different aspects that help to define them, those being the runes potential, power, and variety.”

“First is a rune’s power. This one is the easiest to explain, as it just defines how strong the rune can be in terms of damage. To think of it in terms of John’s powers, this would be the minimum damage the rune could do versus the max damage it could do. So, something like Surtr’s rune will have a much higher power than Kenaz. Secondly is variety, which talks about how many different forms a different rune will have. If you recall, John currently has two different forms of Kenaz, those being the torch form and damaging form. This doesn’t have as much to do with John’s powerset, as he is able to pass by some of the rules that rune magic has, but for average mages this was a very important thing to keep in mind as runic mages were only allowed to learn a few different runes, so they would often have to pick runes with high variety to be able to do many things with their magic.”

“Finally, and the one that is relevant to your question, is a rune’s potential. This one is a bit harder to explain, as it relates to how much the rune can grow in terms of utilization. Essentially, runes with high potential can change the specifics of how they work while still doing the basic task they are supposed to do. In terms of John’s powerset, this corresponds to his runes leveling. Currently his Kenaz: Damaging Form is only level one, but still can be leveled up a lot with time. This means that Kenaz has very high potential. However, John’s Surtr rune can only be leveled up a couple of times before reaching max level, so it has a very low potential. These statistics about each of John’s runes will be revealed with time, but for now I will say that 99% of the time Godly runes have high power but low potential. The variety is much more mixed on godly runes, with Surtr’s runes having very low variety but Thor having high variety.”

As the small golden figure walks away, Baba turns to look at you and smiles. “Well, it would seem that you have gained all the answers you wanted.”

“But… there were some questions you didn’t answer-”

“I said you have gained all the answers you wanted.” She picks up another leaf, this one black and oily, and holds it over the mortar. “Now, get out of my hut!” She drops the leaf into the concoction, and before you can react the potion explodes in a mixture of golden, green, and grey lighting, propelling you with an unstoppable **** right out of the door. You are moved with such speed that you are **** to shut your eyes, and when you next open them to see where you are going, you find yourself sitting in the field where you first summoned Baba Yaga dripping wet with a strange green liquid and the sound of cackling echoing on the wind.