#CRONES

[yaegeram]

The crones of crookback bog

[auntmote]

Day 1 - Ladies of the Wood my favourite for inktober🖤

Drawing every day is beyond my powers :') But I will draw a few pictures based on The Witcher.

[snakeflower-cottage]

The Glen of the Crones

There is a place, deep in the Otherworld, where the air is thick with fog and the scent of damp earth and rot. A place where the old ones gather, their voices rustling like dry leaves, their eyes glinting in the dark. This is the Glen, the resting place of who most would call the Cindered Dead but whom my coven calls the crones, the witch-ancestors who came before us.

It is said that when a witch dies, their fetch (the spirit-self, the part of them that is untamed and othered) does not pass into the afterlife like the everyday ghost. Instead, it slips into the hidden groves of the Otherworld, taking up residence among the crones. There, the dead witches wait, watching from beyond the veil, guiding those who still walk the crooked path.

The idea of an Otherworldly grove where spirits gather has deep roots in folklore. Across early European traditions, forests, glens, and hidden clearings were often believed to be the meeting places of spirits, the dead, and otherworldly beings. The Wild Hunt, for example, was sometimes said to emerge from or disappear into a hidden woodland, sweeping through the night skies with the souls of the dead in tow (Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, 1883).

Witches were associated with liminal, untamed places. In early modern Europe, those accused of witchcraft were said to fly to sabbaths held in remote forests and hills, crossing into an unseen world where spirits and ancestors gathered, for example in 1669, Scottish witch Isobel Gowdie spoke of traveling to a hidden land beyond human sight, where she met with the Queen of Elphame (Pitcairn, Ancient Criminal Trials of Scotland, 1833). Some traditions tell of witches gathering beneath old trees or in secret groves like the witches of Benevento, places outside of time, where knowledge is passed down to those who seek it (Ginzburg, Ecstasies: Deciphering the Witches’ Sabbath, 1991).

Perhaps these stories are not just remnants of accusations, but echoes of something older, like the Glen of the crones, where witches of the past still whisper to those who listen.

The fetch is more than a spirit-double, it is the witch’s instrument of spirit-flight and shapeshifting. Cross-culturally, witches were believed to leave their bodies behind as they traveled in spirit form, taking the shapes of animals, shadows, or mist. Some accounts speak of witches sending their fetches out as spectral omens or messengers, appearing in distant places while their bodies lay still at home (Briggs, A Dictionary of Fairies, 1976). Some say the fetch of a witch never truly fades; instead, it remains in the Glen, waiting to call to those who walk the path after them. It is the whisper in the wind, the presence felt at the edge of sleep, the shadow that follows just behind.

Calling Upon the Crones~

The Cindered Dead are not distant figures of history; they are present. They stand behind us when we work our charms, their breath is in the wind that stirs the cauldron’s smoke. There are ways to seek them, to listen, to learn.

Burnt Offerings: The crones were wreathed in fire, by burning food and herbs you feed their flame that lives on to guide you.

Bone Talismans: The old witches knew that bones hold memory and spirit. Carry a blackened or burned bone as a talisman of connection.

Spirit Flight: Enter trance in liminal places, go seeking the crones in the fogs of the otherworld. The Glen is there, beyond the hedge, waiting.

Call Them by Name: If you know of specific witches lost to fire and rope, speak their names in rites and conjurations of aid, as Catholics do with saints.

Remember to be still and listen well, because one day, we too will walk into the Glen. One day, we will be the ones whispering in the wind and tending to new sparks that will one day be wildfires.

[polliur]

The last battle 🗡️

[katildacrones]

ichabod crane and brom bones are just 2 girls that can be so near and dear to your heart

[jennycanary]

Witcher 3 got me through a pretty serious funk and art block, so have a Bald Mountain

[post4story]

A fun concept of Hags. Even when I was playing as a dungeon/game master they were my favorite monster to play as.

[fantasyoftales]

[sixofclovers]

hecate

[lacymoonchild]

(via Amazon.com: Crone Woman T-Shirt : Clothing, Shoes & Jewelry)

[polliur]

The weird sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about:

Thrice to thine and thrice to mine

And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace! the charm's wound up.

[thoughtswordsaction]

Crones - Human Error

“Human Error” is the latest full-length release by Crones, an excellent Canadian band. It’s an appropriate follow-up to “Aghast,” their outstanding debut released in 2019, heavily promoted with singles like “Dirt,” Vegas Years,” and “Arsenic,” all published earlier this year. Soundwise, Crones combines many different but complementary music genres to illustrate such rich and luxurious sonic…

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Catelyn IV

The inn was a rambling old place on Eel Alley.

The woman who owned it was a sour crone with a wandering eye who looked them over suspiciously and bit the coin that Catelyn offered her to make sure it was real.

Her rooms were large and airy, though, and Moreo swore that her fish stew was the most savory in all the Seven Kingdoms.

Best of all, she had no interest in their names.

“I think it best if you stay away from the common room,” Ser Rodrik said, after they had settled in. “Even in a place like this, one never knows who may be watching.”

[doodlenoodleh]

My love 💜💚

[meirimerens]

my collection of herb brides (informal) "types" lore I made up & will hold as personal truth from now on

deliberations below

"Prophetess type"

Pythia-inspired

stay in the depth of the Abattoir where unused parts of slaughtered bulls are burned alongside sacred herbs

dance in smoke-induced trances

translate the words of the Earth into chants that the "priestesses" Brides bring to the surface and disseminate among the Kin (some chants that other members of the Kin and Brides sing are hundreds or thousands of years old, remembered from the depths)

may be blind or visually impaired from birth, illness or age

long hair or masks cover the eyes

"Priestess type"

your average Herb Brides

dancers

direct intermediaries between the Earth and the Kin

their dancing make the herbs grow

crucial role in times of and ceremonies around blooming, sowing and reaping, and the harvest

sometimes descend into the Abattoir to bring back to the surface the chants of the "Prophetesses"

wear wrists and ankle bracelets, pendants and hair accessories made of bone, hardened clay or stone that jingle and chime when dancing

some play instruments, especially the older others (cf. "Crones")

"Midwife (sub)type"

less a "type" than a specialization

"priestess" Herb Brides having shown skill in or dedication to midwifery

unless actively engaged in midwifing, indistinguishable in behavior from other Herb Brides as they dance and make the herbs grow

plenty of Herb Brides that don't fit the "midwife" subtype are also midwives (cf. Big Vlad's comment on Artemy's birth), but all Herb Brides of the "midwife" subtype are

differentiated from other Herb Brides by:

no tattoo/body paint below the elbow hands and nails kept clean hair short or tied securely with less loose leaves, herbs, beads,...

"Crones"

less a type than a title: Herb Brides over the age of 50

lead chants, as they've often spent their whole lives learning them

those too weak to dance as they once did may play instruments (bull bone flute, bull hide drum)

typically more covered than the younger Brides as they get colder more easily: are given clothes by members of the Kin (often their own family)

slower dances with age