You are standing outside the front door of a small cottage nestled in a
riot of raspberry thickets, weird witch-growth and unruly beds of herbs. Or
at least it would, once upon a time long, long ago have been described as
small; it now consists of so many extensions and lean-tos that wide and tall
are understatements and it is difficult to see what the original building
had looked like, or even if there had ever been one. To the east is the
rimward wall of the cottage; a track will take you southwards, back into the
wood and northwest lies the paddock.
Very cold with a gentle breeze and a beautifully clear sky.
There are three obvious exits: east,
south and
northwest.
Pewsey is here.
Back to Amber's Coven.