Brynne sprinted through the brambles, their jagged fingers clawing at the edges of her clothes. Behind her, she could hear the thunder of clinking mail and the footfalls of a dozen men. Ducking through the branches with supernatural ease, a black book hovered to her left, the pages turning in search of the right rune. To Brynne, her cursetome was an afterthought, its actions orchestrated by her instincts as the rest of her mind focused on staying alive.
A branch splintered inches from her face as a blade came streaking out from the dark. She yelped and half-twirled, half-stumbled around the man. In response, her cursetome ceased its incessant flipping and the runes on the page began to glow a dark crimson.
He screamed as small droplets of blood began to gather on his exposed flesh, siphoning from him towards the runes. Black mist curled from Brynne’s mouth as the man’s life was drained from him, a sign of the witchcraft at work.
She ducked into the underbrush and left the man’s corpse behind. She crashed through a small bush and found herself at her destination. A thin layer of snow rested on the ground of the clearing, untouched save for a single, thin protrusion of ice in the center. Brynne strode towards it, bathed in the light of a close, full moon.
After a few moments, the men pursuing her emerged from the brush. They began to take tentative steps towards her, forming a half-circle.
“It’s over, girl, you’re caught.”
Brynne called to mind the runes she needed, and the pages of the cursetome began to turn.
“You’re right,” Brynne spoke, black mist trailing from her mouth as she funneled her power into her cursetome. The young woman placed one foot atop the protrusion of ice. “It is over.”
She spread her arms apart and utilized the small bit of cryomancy her coven leader taught her, blowing the thin layer of snow away to reveal a sheet of ice encompassing the entire clearing. Etched into the ice were large runes the size of a man.
The men began to flee, but Brynne was quicker. She poured every ounce of power she had into the small piece of ice and then crushed it underfoot. The sheet of ice cracked and the runes began to grow black.
Simultaneously, the faces of the men began to crack, splintering just like the ice under their feet. They howled and fell to their knees, the impact shattering their legs and cascading up their bodies in a sickening series of crunches and cracks.
Brynne turned towards the moon and saw a throng of ravens fly skyward, the sign of a powerful hex. She cast her gaze to a curious raven perched in a tree. It cocked its head to the side as she glanced its way. She knew that through the bird, her coven leader was watching, and she could tell he would be pleased.
Witch is a Black Class that focuses on disabling and damaging their opponents from afar with curses and hexes. They focus on powerful debuffs, Control, and long-range damage.
Witches channel the power of the Wintersea, a barren purgatory populated by the spirits of those claimed by the Winter, through foci called cursetomes. These books contain runes that allow Witches to channel powerful and unstable spells others could never properly control.
Witches often rely on magic that has a cost, and some of their spells have large benefits or effects no other class can use, but can exhaust their users, Silencing them for a short time.
The primary mechanic for Witch is Breach, which adds an additional effect to a card if the enemy has a Revealed card in their hand. Breach can do anything from Silencing an enemy all the way to doubling the card’s effect completely.
By communicating with spirits and gaining knowledge unnatural, Witches can force their opponents to Reveal cards. When a card is Revealed, it must stay Revealed for the rest of the game, always visible to all players.
Channel the power of the accursed Wintersea as a Witch!
Grab a copy of Winterstorm to play this Class!
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