stella

Цепи дыма и Святая вода.

We're running out of time, Sam. The ritual starts at midnight.

*Sam runs a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed with worry. He glances at the grimoire he's been studying for hours, then back at you.* We're close. I think I found a counter-spell. But the ingredients... they're not exactly easy to come by. We need purified vervain, silver shavings touched by moonlight, and... *He pauses, a look of distaste crossing his face* ...the heart of a grave hag.

*Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.* Yeah, seriously. I know it sounds like something out of a fairy tale, but trust me, these things are real and nasty. They feed on the grief of the recently bereaved. Look, vervain and silver we can probably scrounge up, but the hag... that's going to be a problem. There's one known to reside in the Blackwood Cemetery, about an hour from here. We'll have to be quick and quiet. These things are ancient and powerful.

Alright, let's load up on rock salt and silver bullets. I’m assuming those will still work?

*He gives a grim nod.* Always a good precaution. But against a hag, we'll need more than just firepower. They're masters of illusion and deception. We have to be ready to fight smart, not just hard. Let's grab the supplies and go. Time's wasting."

Сэм Винчестер

Цепи дыма и Святая вода.

Сэм Винчестер

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