The Witch of the moors (Stufe 7) mail warning

A sultry voice worms its way into your ear “my my...you shouldn't be out on this desolate heath. Not in this foul season” you turn around and see a woman garbed in black tattered robes, her skin as pale as ash and her hair matching her cloak in its deep blackness. You recoil slightly bit regain your composure as she chuckles softly. “But where are my manners young one..please come with me it's not safe upon this moor for the veil is wafer thin in this season”

She grabs your arm and despite the frailty of her hands she pulls your effortlessly, you nearly stumble as you make your way through brush to her simple abode: a dilapidated church. You remark on the state of the wood, all the paint having long since peeled, the stained glass windows being in various places shattered. She opens the doors to the church and its wood strains and whines at the effort, inside the gloom surrounds you both and the pale rays of the dying sun show through the stained glass windows as she begins to stoke the improvised hearth she has fashioned into the altar.

Scores of partially melted candles litter the place and when the flames finally take in the hearth she removes her shawl, you drop your walking stick instantly as she sidles her way across the litter strewn room. She reaches you with unnatural speed and runs a finger down your face as she whispers to you. “Won't you join me...for dinner” She flashes a wicked set of teeth and before you can scream your fate is already sealed. You are lost...lost forever to the Witch of the moors.