You should hurry home, it's getting dark already.
It's Twelfth Night tonight.
Watch out that Perchta doesn't get you.
Yes yes, Sepp.
You should be burned down, you witches.
We'll get you.
You have to eat at least a little bit.
Eat some more.
Albrun. It's so dark.
It's alright, it's alright.
Go back to where you came from.
Nobody wants your rotten milk here.
You ugly witch!
Those spoil boys.
You live in the the hut next to the creek, right?
The priest sent me.
He said you should come down to see him.
He'd like to have a word with you.
I'll walk with you.
Why are you up here all by yourself?
I couldn't do that. With a child and all.
Where's your husband?
There is none.
As I began serving this community,
I was full of hope for my mission
to sink the light of faith in our holy church deep into the hearts of the people.
People like you, Albrun,
whose path is paved with suffering and pain.
The morbid case of your mother and your secluded way of life.
A way of life that already tempted many believers to touch the darkness.
A touch that sprung from sacrilege.
But to strengthen the faith of an righteous community it requires all sacrilege be cleansed.
I thought I'd come visit you.
What is her name?
Martha, like her grandmother.
She looks so healthy.
I nearly forgot.
I found such a pretty one, thought I would bring it for you.
I have to go look after my children as well.
It was nice to see you, Swinda.
I think so too.
See you soon.
We really do have a nice spot here in our mountains.
We don't have to be afraid here.
Afraid? Of what?
Of those who don't carry Gods light in their hearts.
By the jews and the heathens.
They come at night and like animals they take you.
And a few months later you bear a child like that.
It is disgusting how all of you stink.
Your rotten stench.