happilyeverbeginning | toss a coin to your witcher (dumb duck trio)

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toss a coin to your witcher (dumb duck trio)

"She used her dark magics on my husband, and now he sees her shadow in the mirror every night!"
"He killed an entire farm-hands livestock, all for his own twisted amusement."
"They have a garden full of statues that were once children, now frozen in time forever..."

As Scrooge McDuck - world's richest duck, famed adventurer, and also expert monster hunter - continued his research into the "mages of the mountain", he found each new rumor was more outlandish than the last. Sure, there were a few things that were consistent - the two were twins, beautiful in their own way, and fiercely loyal to one another - but after that, each new round of gossip could make them sound like petulant children or gods themselves. Whatever troubles the villagers were having, be it bad weather or failing crops, it was surely the fault of the De Spell family.

And yes, perhaps the manor of the twins - lofted right into the side of the highest hill, with decaying greenery entwined all around the massive stone steps - was a little something out of a gothic horror novel. Dark colors, eerie structure, and maybe a cracked gargoyle or two. The cry of a raven could be found in the distance. But if these twins were as powerful as so whispered, why couldn't they afford to fix the twisted rafters from the windows, or cover the drafts from moldy holes? The land itself was probably pricey property, and many would pay handsomely for it... if some particular vermin was exterminated.

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Eh, he'd heard worse. With that, Ratface made to duck behind whatever shelter he could find.

"No can do. I was ordered to observe. Get on with it, 'expert'."

"Then give me space."

Scrooge turned back to the noonwraith. He held up his empty hands to her.

"He's not worth it," Scrooge told her.

The noonwraith seethed, its torn clothing roiling about her.

"Marzia!" he called. "Marzia Biancardi, listen to me!"

There was no hint of recognition, no spark.

The last shreds of Marzia Biancardi were gone.

His heart broke as the noonwraith focused its efforts on him. He drew his revolver again, aiming for the center of its forehead.

"I'm sorry, lass. I really am."

BANG! BANG BANG BANG BANG!

Ugh, that sound again! Ratface winced, ducking his head under his wings again. But he couldn't hide forever, and so he forced himself to look through his feathers and through the noise, to see if the mortal man had made it - or been massacred.

The last wisps of the noonwraith's essence swirled past Scrooge. His head was bowed, the revolver lowered and at his side.

"Well then. That's a result for your masters, eh?"

There was nothing left save some ectoplasm and mystical dust. Valuable potion ingredients, true, but the cost to obtain them...that was too high.

Ratface raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. He walked out slowly to observe the area and make sure all was safe. The girl's loss was a pity to be sure, but ultimately, he could only care about himself and his mistress.

"So it is. I'd think a man at your age would be used to these sort of things." But with a shrug, he opened his wings, ready to take to the skies.

Scrooge's head snapped to Ratface, glaring. "I am used to it, but that doesn't mean I like it!" His beak curled in disgust. "If I ever perform a job like that and it doesn't affect me, that's when I need to pack it in. Otherwise it might be innocent people like your masters who end up gone!"

He pointed towards the last remnants of the noonwraith.

"If your masters want that, they can have it. Call it part of their fee. Should fetch them a pretty penny if nothing else." He spun on a heel and started to walk.

Edited 2022-02-10 13:31 (UTC)

Ratface blinked rapidly, but again, shrugged it off as he walked to the remains to pick what his mistress would like. Yelling and anger was quite normal for him, and he only ever really feared it from the twins.

"Innocent people end up gone all the time. What do you think happened to the elder Spells?"

Magica had said they died. She didn't say how.

"Then why do you care if your current masters die if the death of innocents means nothing to you?" Scrooge snapped, still walking. "They'll be dead sooner or later anyway. Then you'll find new masters and move on."

"A master and a familiar's bond isn't so simple." He tried picking up one of the items in his claws. "If she dies, I'm out too. Innocence and guilt are things beyond birds. We just know who we like. You mortal ones get hung up on so much when time is so short."

With a flap of his wings, he was above the ground. "But I suppose they will be happy you aren't dead yet."

Scrooge snorted. "Doesn't matter. I'm just another mortal to you and them. If they don't want me to come by to find out their fee, they can just send a note through you, I suppose."

"I didn't say they didn't want you to come back." Ratface merely reported the facts as he saw them. "But I've been away too long as it is."

With that settled, so as he saw it, he took off to the skies.

Scrooge let the familiar fly off as he headed towards the village. He only stopped once on the path there, and that was to bend over and retch out the awful feelings of effectively murdering an innocent soul.

Maybe it didn't matter to the De Spells and their familiar, but it mattered to him. Particularly when he remembered how she'd reached out towards him and he'd seen a glimpse of how she'd looked when she was alive.

What did he expect though? Not everyone could see the dead like him.

Edited 2022-02-10 20:05 (UTC)

Ratface swiftly returned to the rotting manor, much to Magica's relief, and relayed the story to the twins without missing a single detail. While Poe stored away the treasures, the two had a lot to think about. Oddly enough, this act of killing another had been more kindness shown to them than anyone else had shown them for many years.

The village itself wasn't entirely pleased to have Scrooge back. The brother-in-law had tried to spin the story into a more favorable version for himself, but ultimately, Scrooge had done what he couldn't, so they had to pay.

Scrooge hadn't said a word as the brother-in-law tried to spin things. He'd simply glared coldly while contemplating how best to ruin the man's entire financial career.

It would take little effort to completely crush the man beneath his spatted foot. He'd do it without remorse for what was done to poor Marzia.

"I had to purchase special equipment for this job. I would have considered eating the cost myself had I been allowed to do my job unimpeded, but given the interference, you all will have to deal with the cost being passed on to you on top of the interference clause upcharge."

It was part of the contract he'd signed with the village's mayor. The clause was in there because of people stupidly trying to play at heroics...or trying to get out of having to pay him in the first place by making him do all the heavy lifting and then swooping in at the last minute to complete the job. Honestly, he wished he'd levied a higher surcharge given this town's attempt at hiding key information.

Of course no one was happy about this, but the contract was iron-clad. No getting out of it, even though they did their best to blame Brother-In-Law, and even Ratface - surely the Spells sent him to cause distraction and chaos! THEY should be the one paying for the upcharge! Of course, they were oblivious to the fact the special equipment came from those Spells...

But for all the hemming and hawing, they did finally fork over evert last bill that was promised.

Scrooge made a point of carefully counting out the money before pocketing it in front of the crowd, ensuring that he had every last penny.

He then looked towards the preacher. "You. Priest."

"Y-Yes?" the man stammered.

"Next time you attempt an exorcism, make sure you know what you're doing and -- most importantly -- why." Scrooge's eyes were flinty. "An exorcism is a tool for expelling demons from hosts. When cast on the ghosts of the mortal dead, it destroys them completely. Slowly. It's like taking a bath in a vat of acid with no way out.

"Because of you, Marzia Biancardi -- a member of your own flock -- lost the last shreds of her humanity, her only chance at passing on to Paradise. Now her father will never be reunited with his beloved daughter in the afterlife." He narrowed his eyes. "Keep that in mind the next time you stand at the altar...and when you finally stand before your Maker in Judgment."

With that, Scrooge stalked past the crowd.

It should have come as no surprise that whispers started as soon as his back was turned, not even waiting until he was far away enough not to hear. It wasn't their fault Marzia died! She took her own life! She wasn't woman enough to keep her man! She should have stuck around and made the marriage work! Maybe the Spells enchanted the husband to cheat, or enchanted the girl to take her life!

Nobody wanted to take the blame. But much to their frustration, Scrooge was on soul they couldn't blame - because he'd gotten rid of their problem. He'd done just as he was told, and there was no getting around it. What a bothersome man, to indulge in gossip and dig up old stories no one wanted to talk about. Good riddance to him.

Scrooge listened to the whispers. His mind darted to his normal business and remembered the petition from this village to help develop the area. It wasn't particularly wealthy to begin with, and Scrooge believed in helping others by providing opportunities for them to help themselves when possible. If he made money from the deal, all the better.

In a way, this incident showed him the true colors of the quaint little town he'd considered investing in. If this was how they treated their own neighbors, well, they'd be highly unlikely to treat outsiders any better. He would not subject his people to these vile creatures.

He pulled out his old flip phone and hastily typed a message in code to his Chief Financial Officer. As he kept walking, he heard the mayor's phone chime followed by a cry of dismay.

He didn't need to read the message that had been sent to the mayor's phone. He smirked as he kept walking.

After careful consideration, our CEO has declined to invest in your project. We here at McDuck Enterprises bid you good luck in your future endeavors.

Once more, no one would take the blame for the deal going south. It was Mariza's fault for haunting the village and scaring away potential investors! It was Brother-In-Law's fault for getting into an argument with Scrooge! It was the Spell's fault, they probably put a hex on the investment!

At this rate, the noonwraith was probably going to be the least of their problems. A village this dirty and despicable was likely crawling with ghosts and ghoulies from ill grudges and dishonorable ends. Which begged the question of who took care of all of that before? And why only now was an outsider taking the job?

That last part occurred to Scrooge as he walked back to his hotel. He called the home office once he was in his room.

"Quackfaster, sorry but I need you all at the Bin to keep your hands on the till. Something's come up."

"Anything we can do?"

"Yes, actually. If you can send your research team out, I need information on this area. The locals are useless on that front...save two." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "There's a lot of nasties here, and I'm not talking about the supernatural creatures. This place is looking more and more like a spiritual pressure cooker, and whoever's supposed to have their hand on the release valve is nowhere to be found."

"Understood, sir."

"Thank you, lass. I appreciate it."

"Anytime."

With that, the call ended.

Scrooge pocketed his cellphone and frowned. He needed to talk to the De Spells again. He was going to need a lot more supplies than he'd thought.

By the time Scrooge woke up in the morning, he'd find out the truth - and just like with Mariza, there had been plenty to hide.

According to the researchers, the noonwraith definitely wasn't the first spiritual nasty the villagers had suffered from. But they had done their best to hide this fact, and even pretend the old horrors never happened. But the monsters hadn't simply vanished on their own - each time a supernatural murder had occurred, there had been someone there to get rid of it. A pair of someones - a husband and a wife. A father and mother to little twins.

Scrooge read the report over via his tablet. Despite the grim information, he had to smile with pride. Quackfaster was the best in the business, and not once had he ever regretted hiring her or taking her recommendations for those who worked beneath her. Her official title was Head Archivist, but it was so much more than just keeping track of his personal Archives.

He sent a quick note back to her to thank her for her team's work. He then contacted his CFO to authorize a special bonus given to Quackfaster and her team for their quick and thorough work on top of their already not-inconsiderable workload. Those who worked in his Bin or at least directly beneath those who worked there knew that the stingy old miser was incredibly generous to those who went above and beyond the call of duty. Quackfaster's team had likely put in a full night's work while he'd rested.

Grabbing a breakfast sandwich and a coffee to go, Scrooge headed back towards the De Spell mansion. Now that he knew the dark history of the town, the mansion itself made perfect sense: It was a symbol of the ancient agreement between House De Spell and the village. The De Spells had guarded against the dark things of the world much like the agreement he'd arranged between Countess Morgana and her coven's neighbors.

He looked about for Ratface. If he didn't find the familiar, he'd just knock on the door.

He was difficult to spot at first - a black bird that pudgy suited the shadows nicely. It was when he opened his eyes he was visible, though he huffed a bit, making appear even bigger - but comically so. "Leave the weapons away, and then in you go, same as before."

Perhaps he was less worldly and mystical and just more like Poe - jealous of anything that took his mistress' attention. He hopped up, and flew into the manor.

Scrooge dropped the revolver and bag on the front porch. That way if someone had followed him with the intent to steal his things, they wouldn't get far before he caught up.

He entered the manor, heading immediately towards the room he last met the De Spells in.

"I apologize for the rude intrusion, but this is more than just about money owed you both." He looked from one twin to the other. "I need you to answer me truthfully: Were you aware that your parents were the guardians of this area?"

Edited 2022-02-10 22:16 (UTC)

This time, instead of sitting together and glaring daggers at the intruder, the Spells had been up and about. Tea was being poured, along with a few small baked goods. Had Scrooge suddenly barged in on breakfast, or had he been expected and therefore good hosts sprung into action?

Whatever the answer to that question was, his question hit them much harder. Both twins went wide-eyed with surprise, Magica dropping the kettle and Poe using his magic to catch it and gently set it on the table. Ratface was sitting atop a chair, watching him evenly.

The twins exchanged a look, and Poe answered before Magica could. "Yes. We've always known."

Magica sat down, crossing her arms. "And it's what got them killed."

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