To Grandmother's House

(note: many things in this story are based off of material from the Dungeons and Dragons Role-playing Game.)

The party rode silently through the forest on their way to the city of Waterdeep. The forest was quiet, and the tall trees blocked out a portion of the sun, so the road ahead was shadowy at best. There were four that rode to Waterdeep. At the front was Hanna, a human trained in the fighting arts. She was tall, muscularly built, and carried a longsword strapped to the back of her armor. Riding behind her was Ara, a favored soul of Pelor, the sun god. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and her robes, gleaming golden in the sun, concealed a mace at her side. To her right was Galen, an elf wizard. He carried a spellbook and a staff, and his cloak obscured all but the boots on his feet. At the rear was Alton, a diminutive (about 3½ feet tall) halfling rogue. His eyes twitched warily around, as if he was suspicious of the trees themselves, and he kept an arrow nocked at all times, just to be safe.

They said nothing as they rode, too tired from the long journey. Each one hoped that there was a town up ahead. Luckily, that hope paid off, because off in the distance, they could see farms and farmers tending them. As they passed, the farmers looked at them somberly, as if the worst had happened. They reached the town center, and a sign proclaimed "Welcome to Dunford." The halfling sighed.

"Finally," he said. "I thought that road would go on forever."
"One must not worry about what lies ahead, but what lies at present," Ara responded.

They dismounted, and looked for a place to put their horses. There was a tavern nearby with a sign that said "Dancing Brew bar and inn." They decided to enter there.

Inside, there were several farmers, all of them human, sitting around the tables, drinking quietly. The bartender looked up at Hanna, and then just went back to cleaning a glass. He was portly, with a large mustache and short grey hair.

When Hanna approached, he said, "What can I do for ye?"

"My friends and I would like a place to stay," she asked. "Do you have room?"

"Sure, why not," said the bartender gruffly.

"Also, we need a place for our horses."

"There's a stable 'round back. It's five silvers a person to stay here."

Hanna turned around to her friends, expecting them to pay up. They all reached into their pockets and pulled out the necessary funds. Except for the halfling.

"Pay up, Alton," said Hanna.

"But I don't wanna," he whined.

She glared at him. He groaned and pulled out five silver pieces and gave them to Hanna. She then gave the money to the bartender, and he slipped her a pair of room keys, each with a number written on the side.

After they put their horses in the stable, they decided to rest until the next morning. They were all too tired to be hungry. The road was long, and the road ahead would be longer.

The next morning, they all rose at midmorning, had breakfast, and decided to take a look around town. It was small, with a few shops here and there, houses for the wealthier folk (who weren't as wealthy as the adventurers who had come), and many farms. The market square was slightly busier than the rest of the town, but not by much. Alton smiled to himself as they entered.

Stalls on the side of the road sold vegetables and meats of various kinds, and others sold small trinkets and tools, especially the ones near the blacksmith. As they continued, Alton bumped into a taller human, who turned and sneered down at the tiny figure.

"Watch where you're going, midget!" he said, and kept going.

"Screw you, old timer," Alton said quietly as he smiled, holding several silvers from the man's pocket. He stashed them before the others could notice. But something was just not right about this place. He looked around warily. It suddenly dawned on him. He pulled on Galen's cloak.

"There are no children here," Alton said to the elf.

Galen looked around the square, and said, "That's very strange. I shall investigate the matter." He walked up to one of the venders.

"Want to buy some of my beautiful potatoes?" the vender asked.

"Kind sir, could you please enlighten me on the matters at hand? I noticed that the youths of the village are surprisingly absent. Why is this?"

The vendor's cheery demeanor vanished almost immediately. He said, in a very somber tone, "They've all just gone missing, one by one. Every day, more and more just walk into the woods, following their friends, and they never come back. We sent search parties out, but they found nothing. There's only a few left, and their folks keep 'em locked up in their homes. I'm worried. What's gonna happen next?"

Galen looked worried. "When the children follow their friends, where do they say their going?" he asked.

"They always run back and tell us that they're going to Grandmother's house, and that she's made cookies. The go running behind their friends, but they never come back."

"I shall talk to my party, and perhaps we can investigate this matter further," Galen said.

"Thank you, kind sir. But you needn't tell me this. Tell the mayor, and he ought to reward ye handsomely."

"I will. Until we meet again," the elf said.

He returned to his friends, who had just finished buying some supplies, and told them his findings. Each one in turn looked around the square and nodded in agreement. They then sought out the town hall. It stood tall against all the other buildings, with a large shingled roof and a stone façade. The windows were all finely polished glass, and a large pair of double-doors marked the entrance. A pair of guards stood at the door.

Ara spoke. "We have come to speak to the mayor. It's about the children."

The guards' eyes widened, and they let the party enter. Inside, the town hall was more grand than was thought, based on the condition of the town. It had fine wooden floors, various pieces of artwork, and magnificent stairs leading up to the second floor. The mayor's office was just to the left of the stairs, and was clearly marked by a sign of molded iron. Hanna knocked on the door.

"Come in," said the mayor from within.

When the adventurers entered, the mayor stood up with surprise. He was tall, thin, and had a pair of reading glasses in front of his dark brown eyes. His hair matched his eyes, and was short and clean. He wore the suit of a politician and a man of wealth.

"Who are you?" he asked with confusion.

"We have come to save the children," said Ara, religious fervor apparent on her face.

"We were told to come see you about this," said Hanna, trying to compensate for Ara's zeal.

"Yes, yes, thank you for coming. The children have been disappearing for over a month now. Almost every day, they leave in small groups to go to 'Grandmother's house' and never return. I have sent my guards out looking for them, but the trail grew too faint and the forest grew too thick. One man was attacked by a wild bear. We have given up on looking for them, sadly, and we guard the rest of them from leaving our sight. The number of missing has increased more slowly as of late, but it still increases.

"We don't have much to offer except for our gratitude. I implore you to help us in our time of need."

"We will, and don't bother with rewards. Helping those in need will do fine," Ara said with a smile.

As they exited, Alton looked up at Hanna angrily and said, "Aw come on! Can't we just take some of their cash? Pretty please?"

"Quit your whining, Alton," said Hanna. "These guys have had it hard enough as it is. They don't need to give us money. Besides, we have more than enough already. Remember that giant?"

"Yeah, well….shut up!" Alton said, frustrated.

"We have more than enough supplies, and it's early enough that we can get this done with before nightfall," said Hanna.

Once they left the hall, they made Alton, with his superior tracking skills, look around town for any sign of the missing children. His keen halfling eyes noticed a set of small footprints leading off into the woods at an apparently random spot. Upon closer inspection, he discovered it to be an old game trail. He told the rest of the party, and they gathered their horses, and followed the trail.

The trail was just a tiny sliver of path, but Alton's sharp senses pointed out that the children had been through here. This path went on for about seven miles, gradually widening to about two feet as they went. As the path widened, the forest grew thicker around them, and the midday sun was obscured by the densely packed trees, leaving the forest in shadow. After the seventh mile, the path thinned down to nothing, and the animals began sounding a bit more…human. Both the elf and the halfling noticed this subtle change. The animal sounds had changed to the terrified sounds of whimpering children, coming from up ahead. They alerted their counterparts and they all listened for the sounds warily. Their pace quickened as they followed the shrieking, growing more loud as they went. Then the forest fell silent.

After continuing forward about a half a mile, they see, off in the distance, a small cottage. It was two-story, old and rickety, and had a thin wisp of smoke rising from the chimney. After the frightening noises in the wood, the party was unsettled enough to not just barge right into the house. They drew slightly closer and dismounted. When they did so, they suddenly felt slightly ill to their stomachs, as if a minor flu bug had unexpectedly affected them.

"Alton, why don't you go on ahead and scout out that cottage?" Hanna asked politely.

"Do I have to?" Alton said.

"Yes, you do. Either that or we can walk right into whatever death trap hides inside that shack. Your choice."

"Alright, I'm going," Alton said grumpily.

He would live to regret those words. He stealthily snuck up to the house as silently as he could. He crouched under the window, lifted his head slowly, and peered inside. His eyes were greeted with a disturbing and utterly terrible sight.

The small house was slightly dark and shadowy, due to the fireplace in the corner and the candles on the table at the other side of the medium-sized room. Sitting around the table were about eight or nine children, each one with a blank, emotionless stare on their faces. They looked as if they were under a trance, as if their very intelligence was locked away in some far of place. Sitting at the head of the table was an elderly woman, the supposed "Grandmother" that the villagers talked about. She had short, curly grey hair and a wrinkled, sneering face, looking down at all the children at the table. But what was on the table made Alton's stomach turn. Lying on the table was another child, a girl, staring blankly up at the wooden ceiling. One of the children at Grandmother's side took a knife and fork, cut a chunk of still living flesh off of the girl, and gave it to Grandmother… to eat. She did, happily. One by one, the other children did the same, cutting off pieces of the girl's flesh and feeding it to Grandmother. Blood poured over the table as they worked. As this happened, the girl on the table didn't move a muscle. She still stared mindlessly, completely unaware of the pain that was supposed to be there. Standing behind the old woman was a smiling figure clad in grayish colored jester's garb, apparently directing the actions of the children.

Alton was utterly horrified. Pale, he turned back to his comrades and, shaking, crept back to where they stood. When he was out of earshot of the house, he vomited in fright and revulsion. His friends were very worried.

Deathly pale and visibly shaking, he recounted what he saw.

"It was horrible! I never thought something so foul could have crossed our path!" Alton said, fear permeating his every word.

"If we attack her now, we can stop her before she claims another life! This atrocity has to end!" Ara said, anger coursing through her veins.

They ran up to the door and smashed it down… only to find an old woman sitting in a rocking chair, children huddled around her. They looked at the adventurer, staring mindlessly with their horrible, unblinking eyes.

"What's the commotion about?" Grandmother said calmly, in a grizzled old voice.

"Where did these children come from, fiend?" Ara demanded.

"Excuse me, young lady, but you have no reason to be here," Grandmother replied. "As for the children, they are prisoners. A horrid beast keeps them and me here and has been killing innocent townspeople."

"You're that horrid beast!" Ara shouted, brandishing her mace.

"You don't understand. I'm protecting the children," Grandmother replied.

Suddenly, the elf wizard was struck from behind by the jester that Alton had seen earlier. He flinches from the blow and turns. The jester laughs maniacally as the children around Grandmother charge at the party wielding hidden knives and slings. The adventurers feel a wave of dread pass over them at the onslaught of innocent children.

Hanna drew her sword and, ignoring the blows of tiny knives against her armor, walked toward the old woman, now standing in front of her chair. Before Hanna reached her, the old woman changed suddenly into a hideous creature. She grew to a height of six feet. Her hair was a revolting mess, slimy and tangled together over her shoulders. Her nose was long and hooked, and her skin was green, warty, and much wrinkled. The green hag charged at Hanna and clawed at her face with a swipe of her long-fingernailed hand. Hanna was too slow to dodge the attack, and was struck full on in the face, the scratches leaving deep wounds on her cheek. Hanna returned by slashing at the horrid creature with her longsword, but the creature nimbly dodged it and attacked again.

Meanwhile, the grey jester was in battle with Ara and Galen. Ara beat the foul monster with her mace, hitting it hard across the side. It responded by hitting Galen hard on the head with its scepter. Upon impact, Galen fell to the ground, magically compelled into fits of hideous laughter. Ara was enraged, and swung again with her mace. She missed, and four children ran up and stabbed her with their little knives. They stung, but weren't very hurtful. She looked up toward the ceiling, and pleaded for Pelor to send them his aid. White light poured from Ara's fingertips and fell upon the elf. Immediately, the fits of laughter stopped, and Galen rose to his feet. Muttering powerful arcane words and gesturing in a calculated way, Galen unleashed a searing hot ray of concentrated heat, aimed directly at the jester. He was shot backwards and onto the floor by the force of the blow. Galen was then overwhelmed by five more children, who tackled him to the floor.

Hanna was in full melee with the green hag, exchanging blow for blow, the both of them not making any real progress. Hanna, now growing weary from the blows of the hag (which seemed to sap her very strength away), was then attacked by more children who came in through the door and windows.

When the jester rose again, smoking, rage was plainly visible on his clown-painted face. He came up to the helpless Galen, pinned down by five children, and prepared to club him over the head with a mighty blow from his scepter. He drew his arm back, but just before he struck, he shrieked aloud in pain as a short sword protruded from his chest. Alton had snuck up from behind and stabbed him nastily in the back. The grey jester writhed on the ground in agony, and then fell silent.

At the death of her ally, the green hag ran to the window, smashed it down, and ran off into the forest. Then, the emotion on the faces of the children returned, and they looked around, confused and frightened. Ara went around to each of her comrades and used Pelor's divine blessings to heal their wounds. When the party was healed, they calmed them down and led them back to the village.

When they returned, they were all tired and thoroughly scared enough, but they enjoyed the thanks of the villagers and the happy smiles of the children. They knew that the youths of this village would never be troubled again.