Witch's Brew
The cauldron boiled as flames roasted it's iron skin, arcane fuel ensuring the brew inside did but burn too much or too little. It was the night of the full moon, and on a winter solstice no less, the perfect time for a concoction with great power.
Coming by ingredients was difficult. The town by which she settled was not kind to her, their experiences with witches of old being bloody and full of loss. Though, she did not blame them for their prejudice, her own past was filled with demons and devils she thought she could once control.
The towns folk did however, tolerate her presence in the forest, their problems with monsters and feral beasts all but gone. The folk chalked it up to Beatrix frightening them as much as they were themselves, but in reality it was the warding brews -the same as the kind she was crafting tonight- that drove the conflict deep into the forest.
With her preparations all but complete, all she needed to do now was protect the brew, and when the moon was at it's highest in the night, speak the chant that would finalize the enchantment. The night however was quite young and her home was quite safe from beasts. Thus she decided to grab some additional ingredients in the forest, hoping to prepare a few more brews after the main work for the night was complete.
