"Witch! Witch! Witch!" A crowd had gathered around a small shack on the outskirts of town. They were angry, and strangely…..happy. Yes, happy. The fire they brandished flickered, throwing their faces into eerie masks, making them looking like the demon they accused her of being. Marian kept her swimming eyes to the ground. What had she ever done?

The group that had come to fetch her lead to the town square, pinching and tripping her. She would not cry. She would not cry. Yet, despite the words she was whispering to herself, she felt one tear make its slow way down her cheek. Her matted red hair fell down to hide her face, as well as her black eyes. Unfortunately, it also revealed her pointed ears. The feature that labeled her a "demon". She sniffed. It would not do to stare at the ground. If she was going to die tonight, she would have some fun. So, she lifted her gaze, and stared at the magistrate with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.

"Look at her! So bold! I bet she hates us all."

"Well, she's the one who gave my poor son colic. Serves her right to burn!"

The crowd continued to mutter, glare, and shout things at her. The magistrate gulped as her gaze suddenly filled with hate. "You killed my cat. My friend. You should burn." She murmured the words soft enough for only her to hear, but the magistrate did not hesitate to press his advantage.

"She's bewitching me! Cover her face, so she will be unable to cast her wicked spells!" The magistrate screamed, spittle flying from his mouth, his face red. Marian felt hands roughly shove a hood on her. Marian hated the lot of them. "If I could cast spells, I would have you lot groveling for mercy." Her voice came out as a snarl, and she heard more shouting, more likely exclaiming at what she said.

xxxxxXXxxxxx

"Your Majesty, this is silly. She could just be another one of those they don't like, so they burn her. Why do you care?" Several goblins sat on their horses, their unique features hooded. The one who spoke addressed "Your Majesty" with respect. "You can not deny that they are growing curious with you repeated involvement, Marak."

"I would think less of them if they didn't question my motives. However, if they try and burn a girl, they hardly want her. I can take her, give her shelter, and make stronger goblins because of it. Now you see why I do this, Oren." Marak continued to stare as they forced the poor girl onto the pyre.

Oren sighed, and then shrugged his shoulders. "You never listen to me. Why should you start now?" He said in a rather self pitying tone.

"Indeed. Why should I listen to you? I would like to point out that I am a bachelor, and that the girl they think they are going to burn is at least three quarters elfin. Thus, it saves me the task of raiding an elf camp for a good wife." Marak grinned as he nudged his horse into a trot. The others of his company followed, pleased with the outcome of the evening.

xxxxxXXxxxxx

Marian felt the hood get yanked off of her. The barman was climbing off, hood in hand. Marian sneered. He was scared of her. How perfectly…..idiotic. What could she do to hurt any of them trapped on this pyre? They appeared to think she could do a lot. The magistrate took out a cross, and dangled it in front of her. She blinked, once.

"Do you want me to start cowering in pain? Should I wail a bit?" Marian challenged.

The man's face grew ugly. "Do not mock me!"

Marian laughed. "Mock you? I damn you!" But she was cut off by the sound of horse hooves on cobblestones.

A group of riders on horses were coming up the way. They rode well, and looked like gentry. Some of them were looking at her. Marian could feel their eyes, and she didn't like their attention. Rather than look at the people who appeared to want to watch her die, she turned her head up to look at the stars. They twinkled at her, cheering her slightly before a hood was put on her again.

xxxxxXXxxxxx

"Why have you hooded her, James?" Marak asked, trying to keep the satisfaction out of his voice. An elfin bride, ripe for the picking! He looked at her happily as a man hooded her, blocking her view of the stars.

'Things of her type are known for their wickedness. Can't have the demon working evil magic on us!" The magistrate, now called James, said with a bow.

Marak thought for a few seconds. How was he supposed to get her away? Marak carefully arranged his words before speaking. "I will take her. That way you don't have to deal with her magic. I have met her kind before, and know what to do with them." There, he hadn't lied at all!

"You're met them before?" James spluttered as Marak nodded. "Put her behind me. Keep the hood on, and I will deal with her." Marak crooned, as he worked some light magic, making it all sound like a good idea. James nodded, and a man smelling of too much ale put the girl, arms and legs still tied, behind him.

Marak nodded once, and clucked his horse into a trot once more.

((And thus it begins!))