The Witch's Dozen

Minerva deliberately swooshed past the inn's front desk. Placing another coin as she passed. "I'll be back!" She exclaimed as she left.

This morning was not going to be fun. Arriving, as she had, meant that she'd slept away urgent hours. She didn't think that the enemy would be able to mobilise across the distance she'd travelled, but still...

Her first call would have to be with the local Matriarch. She had to report the deaths of her coven. Twelve dead, excluding herself. A witch's dozen. The symmetry of the twelve and the focus... Her.

She strode towards the keep.