The party advanced cautiously toward the mill, its decrepit silhouette looming against the dark sky. The grinding sound of machinery emanated from within, a constant, unsettling noise that set their nerves on edge. [[Ellette|Ellette]] approached the doorway first, peering into the darkness. The interior was pitch black, and faint, eerie voices drifted toward her, whispering. “Come inside,” one voice cooed. “Join us,” another said, the tone sickly sweet. [[Ellette|Ellette]] tightened her grip on her moonblade and signalled for the others. They entered the mill, their weapons drawn, prepared for the worst. The scene that greeted them was grotesque. The kitchen area was filthy, with human remains scattered across the floor. Children’s bones lay among the debris, a sickening testament to the mill’s true purpose. “Gods above,” [[Ellette|Ellette]] muttered, her face pale as she stepped further into the room. [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] immediately began searching the cabinets, hoping to find something—anything—that could explain what had happened here. He uncovered dusty jars of unidentifiable powders and vials, some labelled “Youth,” “Laughter,” and “Mother’s Milk.” The scents wafting from them were unnaturally sweet, cloying to the point of nausea. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s attention was drawn to a barrel in the corner, filled with a thick, viscous liquid. As he dipped his fingers into the goo, it pulsed slightly, almost as if it were alive. “Interesting,” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] said, studying it closely. Nearby, [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] knelt in front of a cage holding a strange chicken. Its feathers were patchy, and its beak had jagged teeth. He tore off a piece of unknown meat from the floor and offered it to the creature. “Who lives here?” [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] asked, his tone calm. The chicken’s head tilted unnaturally before it responded. “Three big hens.” “And what do they do?” [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] pressed. “Big hens eat children,” the chicken replied, its voice guttural and unsettling. [[Ellette|Ellette]] couldn’t take it anymore. She stumbled outside and vomited, her body shaking with rage and disgust. After a moment to gather herself, she returned, her hair blazing like fire, her fury palpable. “This ends now,” she said, her voice low and seething. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]], still intrigued by the barrel, attempted to use the goo inside to animate his skeletal servant. The substance clung to the bones, writhing as if resisting his magic. He frowned but set the idea aside as the party prepared to ascend the stairs. [[Ellette|Ellette]] led the way, her moonblade glowing faintly in the dim light. The stairs creaked ominously beneath their weight. At the top, they were greeted by an even grimmer sight—more children’s bones littered the floor, along with tattered clothing that looked decades old. Standing in the centre of the room was a large hag, her back turned to them as she swept the floor with an old, worn broom. She stopped mid-sweep and turned her head slowly, a grin spreading across her twisted face. “Ah, guests,” she cackled. “Welcome to the mill.” [[Chapter 73. Hag Dream Pies]]