Ivy

Race: Green-Skinned Hottie

Sex/Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: Are you really ever going to ask? If yes, you'll die but it's >9000

Skin Colour: Green

Hair Colour: Dark Blue

Eye Colour: Red

Sexuality: Yes

Faceclaim: https://u.cubeupload.com/monarch/9fyvxshicrbosb1.jpg

Ivy lives in a wandering hut (the plants in her cursed garden have to wander along too, a great source of annoyance with the pumpkins especially) in the Haunted Hollow, and serves, in general, as an NPC that sells questionable potions and curses for the right price, with the right prompts, as a sexy witch that can get fucked, or a light-hearted villain for quests. She's confident, suave and skilled at what she does, but her goals are very low-level. It's more about fucking up someone that has annoyed her or expanding her garden, which means a great deal to her. In her hut she's attended to by a large amount of Gingerbread people, who live happily inside her house (and under her protection) and aid her in fulfilling menial tasks. She can also give out quests, if for example some of her gingerbread people have been kidnapped by a vampire or she needs help fighting weeds in her garden. The weeds fuck. Of course they do.

Inside of Ivy's Hut

The inside of the hut is notably bigger than it appears on the outside, but it is no giant mansion, and still a single room. There is a brewing corner with a cauldron of course, some unholy brew bubbling away. It shimmers purple and green, and the steam rising from it smells of promise, lust and decay at the same time. The walls are full with shelves- books, ingredients in jars, the occasional brain or finger. As with the outside, so do herbs hang from the ceiling on the inside. It gives the hut a pleasant fragrance of tea, rosemary and a million of other things both mundane and magical. There is only one table to dine at, and the bed is folded up against a wall.

Despite the cramped appearance, activity is bustling in Ivy's home. Along the walls and across the ceiling, tiny gingerbread people run about, completing tasks, travelling across tiny stairwells, roads and elevators. One of the walls is a shelf solely devoted to their quarters and offices. A professional kitchen preps food by shrinking it down to their tiny size, cutting and cooking it, and then storing it in containers ready to be enlarged again. Arriving mail (by crow, owl, or simply floating in) is shrunk down and passed on to an office of gingerbread secretaries, which coordinate which please for help or offers of trade get accepted, which should be bartered with, and which are so bad that the response mail contains a curse. Gondolas drive just under the ceiling, transporting the little people and the messages they carry back and forth. In the tip of the angled ceiling, facing forwards, there is a little command centre which controls the hut. A tiny gingerbread man wearing a captain's hat seems to be in charge. There is only one door, which probably leads to a tiny toilet.

Outside of Ivy's Hut

Then another one. Just as someone else might be inclined to whistle again, some poor impatient doomed soul that would've been, the mists are scared off by distant stomps. They grow louder, nearer. Until the dark is pierced by moving lights that become bigger and bigger as the their ride arrives. It is an entirely normal log hut, with spices and herbs hanging outside to dry, a chimney with smoke rising from it and other cute details, like a snow shovel hanging on one of the walls.

Were it not for the fact that said hut has arrived on four legs. They seem to vaguely resemble giant ape extremities, furred, walking on knuckles with opposable thumbs. It helps with steep climbs and in muddy seasons. It's always muddy in the bog. The legs bend, getting the the hut almost level with the ground as they hide under the hut. The door opens, and bright light shines outwards. A stairwell unfolds to let the adventurers in, but no one appears in the door. A voice calls out from inside, smooth, confident. Even the soundwaves the witch produces are attractive.