The Crone of Haggard Hollow
by Reverend Dungeon MasterYou and your merry band of adventurers, fresh off a well-earned tavern brawl, have somehow wandered into Haggard Hollow, a swampy stretch of land where the trees lean in like nosy aunts and the air smells like expired soup. Your map is useless. Your cleric is complaining. Your thief is eyeballing your coin purse.
And then, right on cue, you hear the scream.
You tear through the undergrowth, only slightly tripping over tree roots because you’re professionals, and stumble into a clearing. In the middle stands a rickety, moss-covered hut perched on chicken legs, because of course it is. A giant cauldron bubbles nearby, and tied to a post like an unruly goat is a teenage girl, rolling her eyes so hard you can hear it.
Enter Grimbella the Withered, a hunched old crone with skin like aged parchment and a face only a cursed mother could love. She’s stirring her cauldron with a gnarled staff, muttering some gibberish about "reclaiming youth" while shooting irritated glances at the girl.
"Finally!" the girl snarks. "It took you long enough. I was about to rescue myself."
Grimbella lets out a wheezing cackle. "Laugh all you want, child, but in mere moments, your essence shall be mine, and my wrinkles will be but a memory!"
You don’t need a wizard to tell you that she’s about to go full hag-mode.
Grimbella is a 6 HD witch, meaning she’s got enough magical know-how to ruin your day but not enough to tank a determined adventuring party without some tricks. Her Armor Class is 5, making her about as tough as a seasoned warrior in chainmail, but her THAC0 is 15, so while she’s got some muscle left in those withered arms, she’s not landing every hit.
Her weapon of choice is her gnarled staff, which she swings with surprising force, dealing 1d6+1 damage per hit. But it’s not the staff that’s the real problem, it’s her magic.
Hexing Glare: Once per round, she locks eyes with a target and fills them with existential dread. The victim must make a Save vs. Spells or be at -2 on all attack rolls for the next three rounds, unable to concentrate on anything except their inevitable mortality.
Youth Drain Ritual: If left alone for five rounds, she can complete a foul incantation that sucks the life force from her captive, restoring 2d6 hit points to herself and leaving the victim a pile of dust.
Swamp Summons: If she drops below half health, she screeches for help, summoning 1d4+1 Bog Gobs, vile, 2 HD muck-monsters with AC 7, THAC0 18, and a nasty sludge-claw attack for 1d4 damage. They dissolve into puddles when defeated but stink like a corpse-filled bog.
Grimbella’s Morale is 8, meaning she’s got some backbone but isn’t suicidal. If things go badly, she throws down a vial of choking swamp gas (forcing a Save vs. Poison or spend a round gagging) and flees into the woods, vanishing with surprising speed for someone who looks like she needs a hip replacement.
If you rescue the teenage hostage, she thanks you with the bare minimum of enthusiasm, tosses her hair, and declares she had everything under control. She then promptly vanishes back into the swamp, refusing to answer questions about why she was here in the first place. Suspicious.
Inside the hut, you find:
A chest of stolen youth elixirs, a handful of doses, each capable of making the drinker look five years younger, though it doesn’t extend lifespan. Side effects unknown.
The Staff of Unfriendly Encouragement, a magical weapon that grants +1 to attack rolls but whispers passive-aggressive comments whenever swung.
A moldy spellbook full of random curses, written in handwriting so bad it might as well be a cryptogram.
A small stash of gold, silver spoons, and a cursed locket, which may or may not whisper sweet nothings in your sleep.
XP and Loot Tally:
Defeating Grimbella: 500 XP
Defeating each Bog Gob: 30 XP per creature
Rescuing the girl: 100 XP (whether she appreciates it or not)
Loot value: 300 GP worth of coins and trinkets
The Staff of Unfriendly Encouragement: Priceless, but annoying
And just like that, another totally normal day in your adventuring career. Now, who’s keeping the creepy locket?
Art: Black Annis by Eggmungus on DeviantArt
