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Mercy Bishop Hawthorne

Intro Video

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I’m flattered you want to learn of me, but, truth be told, I have a curse of rhyming and its grown quite old. From a family of witches did I inherit my craft – the Bishops of Old Salem whose Trials they choreographed. The Hawthorne gift is where Voodoo lies. Alas, my kind soul dissolved family ties.

 

Upon the late night of the eclipsed wolf moon, a ceremony took place with timing inopportune. The witchery winds should gather a gale without pass; to enter the coven I must summon the maelstrom ere the emptying hourglass. Misfortune and destruction – this was their aim, for Bishops and Hawthornes… evil was their game. A kind heart and good soul, with these I was blessed, but because of these I failed the malicious test.

 

I scoured old texts ’til an obscure spell I did find, one to weave words until their wickedness did bind. The sand emptied out as the time approached midnights tones. The spell had taken shape to try and save my family’s souls. My father cried out, “Deliverance, my child, what have you done!?”

 

“Something went wrong!” I replied, “Words were misspoken where there should have been none!”

 

The wild winds calmed as the eclipse passed the moon and disappointed eyes turned on me for there was no monsoon. “Deliverance has betrayed us. She is no daughter of mine! No Bishop nor Hawthorne with you shall align. Now go! And speak to no other without rhyme. Shall it be there hence forth, a reminder of your crime!”

Who Am I...

a banished witch

My Appearance