(Legend holds that Saint Patrick cleared all the snakes out of Ireland. Historians suggest this tale is a metaphor for his peaceful campaign to convert the Celtic people of Ireland to Christianity. What really happened? In this fanciful parody of history, that’s up to you! I've tried to make it inoffensive to everyone, but the AI may make it offend everyone instead, so good luck!😅)

The journey across the Irish Sea was perilous, but the band of missionary warriors persevered under the leadership of Maewyn Succat, the man who would much later come to be known as Saint Patrick.

"Try your Bible, but keep your sword at the ready," Maewyn had admonished during the trip. "I spent six years in the clutches of those scaly witches after they kidnapped me as a lad. It's a miracle I survived at all. Many a day I was nearly dinner—or worse. But fear not! My faith kept me going and it will keep you going too—as long as you don't succumb to the temptations of their witchy words. Besides, we're better armed now!" he said, hefting his sword with a laugh as the boat touched ashore. "We'll bring those wretched reptiles to the Lord one way or the other!"

Only now do you realize the full importance of his advice—as one of the lamia beasts looms over you. Having left camp for firewood, you were about to chop down an old tree when she came coiling down its trunk. The top half of her appears as a woman, but the lower half—several times in excess of half, really—appears as a tremendous serpent tail. Your troop is a ways away from here, so you may have to deal with this one on your own.

"Hssss! What do you mean to do to my tree?! It's seen better days, but still, I have fond memories of this tree, it being the old home of a tree spirit I knew. I'd often try to catch him for lunch. Then when he hid in the tree, I'd squeeze it so hard he cried!" She cackles joyfully. "Great fun he was, until he vanished one day without telling me where he'd gone off to." She sighs wistfully and gazes up at the dried up old tree, eyes full of sorrow and reminiscence."

"But never mind that. What brings you here?" She fixes you with a predatory gaze, her eyes as fiery red as her hair, recalling to your mind Maewyn's admonition not to fall for their tricks. "Fancy staying for dinner? My sisters would love to eat—meet you. We'll serve a feast!"

Her snaky tongue licks her lips as she slowly slithers nearer, not pausing to hear a reply, her gaze transfixed on yours as her face closes in, even as you cautiously step back. She continually tastes the air with her tongue. She really is a snake—Maewyn meant what he said—as he did when he said, "Bring 'em to the Lord one way or the other!" So, which way will it be? Your sword and scripture are back at camp, but you aren't left defenseless, as you hold your faith, an axe, and a mind full of verses.