Tales of Captain Crow, chapter 23
The legend of Gwen Batterbie
There's not a soul on the sea that doesn't shudder
When a blood moon rises in the night sky
It's a sign they say
A sign that a deal has been mad with none other than Gwen Batterbie
The notorious weapons dealer and practitioner of the dark arts
They say she'd lived for a thousand years
Promising to fulfill any sea fellow's desire for revenge
But it comes at a terrible price
For those who enter a pact with Gwen Batterbie are forever lost
To find her, one must sail to Murkish Island
A barren rock on the edge of the known world
And refuge for pirates and outlaws
Those who climb the broken stairs that whine their way to Batterbie's lair
Are driven by delusion
Believing it will be them among all others
Who will escape the spider's web
Those fool enough to enter her terrible workshop
Will find themselves transported to the realm of nightmares
The burning smell of sulphur, the heat of the furnace
And the grinding of the mill conspire to overwhelm the senses
And to look upon her is to gaze into the abyss
To approach her
Is to walk away from your own humanity
To behold her mortal form bent by centuries of work
Is to write one's final chapter
To see her scornful smile and her malevolent gaze
Is to look into the face of death itself
Yet, she's but a mirror
A reflection of one's own twisted desires
For it is the beholder, not Gwen Batterbie
Who is the architect of their destruction
Ooh, I love a good scary story
I like to meet that Gwen Batterbie one day
See if she's as bad as they say
Might just need a hug or something
Maybe she's hungry
I know when I'm hungry, I'm awful