The goblin gently touches the egg. It is surprisingly cool to the touch - much cooler than the temperature of the air. As far as he can tell, though, after a brief contact with the egg that barely moves it, nothing happens. Growing bolder, he gives it a spin. The world around him falls apart.
Anyone not standing on the balcony is flung sideways with significant force. All items in the room are flung sideways and backwards as though gravity suddenly also operated outwards.
Those on the balcony, however, experience none of the violent movement. The scene out of the balcony changes rapidly, as though the whole of the First World were spinning around them. Chaos surrounds them, but - in this very small space around the table - all is well. Gradually the egg slows its spin and so too does everything inside the room. Moments later, the doors back to the cauldron room burst open and a bedraggled Zorka strides in with the cat and fey, also in bad shape, not far behind her.
"What *squawk* in all the multiverse do you think you are doing?!" she screams, "Have you even read the manual?!"
The Dancing Hut of Baba Yaga: Field Operation Manual - Row A, Shelf 1, second book from the left.
Acting quickly, hoping to dispel any more ire, Ishbaad speaks up.
"No! Obviously not. Though we will make sure to do so before we touch anything else." He says, looking to the goblin and trying to surpress a grin. When he is sure the regular inhabitants of the hut aren't looking, he winks at Ice Melt's Quietly in Sunlight.
"Lets go back to the cauldron room and get our bearings. Perhaps now would also be a good time to spend some time in that library, reading up on that manual..." He says, looking back at Zorka with a plaintive smile, hoping this will smooth her ruffled feathers.
As the companions walk out of the strange room and away from the mind blowing, perspective changing egg and bowl, Ishbaad avoids eye contact with Aoife. For some reason she always seems to be on the other side of the group, to his relief, and he makes no effort to stand by her side.
The strange visions Jorvik spoke of when referring to his deepest desires, or at least Ishbaad assumed he saw made him wonder what it was that Aoife saw. He was too late to react when the apparition attacked her for defending Jorvik, and is rather confident he couldn't have done anything about it.
Questions continued to swirl in his mind about the meaning of it all, though in a place deep in his heart, he realized he began to be glad for the utter strange-ness inside the hut.
All the better to pass off that vision... nay, that reality as a dream. A very vivid, real... He shakes his head as they enter the room to the sound of the musical instrument, a welcome distraction.
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"READ?!?! You want to take away my soul? Why would I read, Zorka?"
The little blue goblin just stands there with a dumb-founded look on his face... for about 3 seconds, when he starts giggling. "Me just kidding. Me much smarter than most gobbos... me know reading and writing no steal your soul. Me go read manual!" He then runs to grab the manual on the hut!
"I should hope you will read it!" Zorka puffs up her feathers, "It would be disastrous to try to control the hut again without first doing so."
"Aaaand, that is our cue," Auraenos smiles with mock politeness, "While I am sure it would be amusing to see what happens when you decide to use those controls again, I am afraid our time together is at an end. We helped you by removing the reality siphon, and in downing the baroness's ice wall - which is more from us than we had originally bargained for - and you have fulfilled your part of the bargain in returning us home. We shall be leaving now."
The twigjack and the spriggan don't bother to hide their contempt, sneering at the companions as they stomp past. Auraenos, however, seems to have gained some measure of respect for the four who freed the Hut. He gives each a tip of his flaming head and then practically skips to the door. The dawn piper turns one last time, gives a deep bow, and then flings the front door open. A chill blast assails him and he shivers, pulling his cloak tighter about his neck. "Fare well, and may we never meet again." His distant look leaves everyone with the distinct impression that he is talking to The Hut.
The doors close themselves behind the trio of fey.
Meanwhile, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight tries to remember the rhythm that Zorka tapped out to recall the door to the library but cannot. The bird-faced woman sighs and taps it out again for him. It is exactly as Jorvik remembered, but then, the skald is far more rhythmically minded than the goblin.
Pushing open the secret door, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight finds the library much changed from before. The shelves are not so much hewn as grown. Every part of the library screams life and creation. Flowers blossom and bloom, and plants cover an incredible area of the room. As before, books are strewn all about the place - but shelves are made from the branches of the many, many trees found here. In place of tables are massive mushrooms with toad literal-stools to sit upon. The lush forest seems to be ever moving and growing, even before the companions' very eyes.
The ledger at the center of the library is still there, very much the same. It is open once more to the central portion, and maps out the entire library in excruciating detail - including images of the companions. While some of the ledgers entries are no longer present - in particular, that book about phoenixes - the key tome is still readily available.
- The Dancing Hut of Baba Yaga: Field Operation Manual - The first ancient willow tree on the left, lowest branch, second closest book to the trunk.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight quickly climbs the tree and grabs the book. He is quite put out to find that it is written in a language completely alien to him. Kuragin comes over with the spectacles and notes that it is written in something called "Russian".
- Planar Travelers' Language Companion, vol 8,916: Russian for Golarionites - That lovely fir by the brook, third lowest branch, 12th book from the trunk.
- Planar Travelers' Language Companion, vol 1: Language of the First World, Sylvan and Aklo translations - The only book held by the sapling just to the right of this mushroom-podium.
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Operations manual in hand, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight hunkers down to read. However, he realizes that this is a pretty daunting task, and they've spent far too much energy adventuring this day.
"Bosses, can me use one of the scrolls to copy into Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's formula book? Then me can use drink that makes goblin read anything safely and really get through book easy." He also thinks about it for a while.
"And if Boss Kuragin lets me use the spectacles, I could read all day with them! When me is done with the operation manual, me will start learning this 'rushing' language. Me love languages!"
Without waiting for a response, he uses one of the scrolls to scribe, and another to be able to read, and then starts in on reading the book. The rest of the adventurers can hear him giggling throughout the read... surprising since this seems to be a technical manual. After ten minutes, when the scroll wears out, he closes the book, and walks over to Kuragin. "Boss? Spell ran out. Me no can read book no more. Well, me can try a little, but it very confusing, and the words aren't so easy to figure out. This no like any language I learn before... very hard going. Can me borrow glasses? Me promise to give them back." He then stands there, hands behind his back, twisting back and forth while bouncing a little. It is obvious that he was enjoying his read...
"And Kuragin. Very astute with your observations. So I had this dream about Nadya, a pot of honey, and a badger. What do you think that means?"
"In this dream, were you actually eating the honey, or did you just see the pot? It might make the world of difference." With the last words, a very unusual smirk appears on Kuragin's lips.
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In the library, Kuragin was about to start reading the Field manual, but Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight keeps constantly snatching the book from his hands. And since the goblin seems so eager to study to operate the Hut, the witch feels it's best to allow him. At least that way there will be no need to be wresting over the book.
And anyway, there are so many books to read here. Kuragin goes to search for the Planar Travelers' Language Companion, vol 8,916: Russian for Golarionites, curious to learn about the language in the other book - as well as the creatures speaking such language.
But just as he stars to get immersed into the contents of the tome, he feels someone tugging his sleeve. It's the goblin, again - wanting to borrow the magic glasses. Kuragin feels a little insecure about handing them over, but since the books he is currently reading is in Taldan, he has no immediate need for them. "Very well. You can borrow them for a moment. But you will return them intact. Should you break them, I will hex you into sniveling puddle of slime!" The witch hands out the spectacles, but gives the goblin his evil eye to emphasize his threat.
And them he returns to his book.
The group get caught up on rest and reading while Zorka tidies the mess Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight created, and the cat with Coramus' face seems to sleep through it all. Time moves strangely within the Hut - or perhaps it is the strangeness of the First World causing it. None are sure how long they spent reading, sleeping and making their preparations, but before too long, they find that they have all retired at the same time for a lengthy slumber.
The group of heroes are woken by a thunderous noise.
Everything in the hut vibrates with the after effect.
Zorka rushes into the room amidst falling spice jars and a cloud of dust.
"I hope you learned to control the hut!" she cries.
Zorka squawks with shock, "Because we have a little problem here."
Everyone rushes into the room with the controls. Outside the Hut is a sight to send the companions' nerves on end. What must be fifty enormous humanoids surround the hut. They would be gangly if they weren't so massive. They fling boulders at the hut and smash it with clubs.
Their enormous, frosted beards lend a frightening aspect to their faces. They look very similar to, but are not quite the same as, frost giants on Golarion. These vary in size more, and some possess multiple limbs, but all are ferocious and attack the hut with an unnatural fury.
Visible somewhere in the back of the veritable army of frost giants is a lone figure with a flaming head of hair. Auraenos. He is wearing a new, very warm looking set of furs. The dawn piper waves to the Hut, perhaps seeing the four who saved him in the window. He smiles an evil smile and puts the flute to his mouth before skipping along the hills, snug and warm in his new clothes.
As Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight spins the egg, Jorvik is flung to the floor. Landing sharply on his back, his breath is momentarily knocked out of him. He lays on the floor, chest heaving, trying to calm himself as his lungs struggle to draw oxygen into his body. After a few moments, he can feel the muscles relaxing and his breathing return to normal.
He partially overhears the conversation about controlling the hut as he picks himself up, and begins to pat off the dust and debris he accumulated on the floor.
"Might be a magical hut, but it wouldn't hurt you to push a broom around it once and a while." he complains loudly to no one in particular. "And for Desna's sake, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, hands off the egg until we read the book."
There is a book detailing how to work this hut and we didn't even read it. Too concerned about our own petty desires. We have to start thinking bigger.. Jorvik's silent musings make him think what other clues had they missed.
Walking back to the library with his friends he turns to Kuraign, "Both. And we also ..."
"Dammit, Dammit, dammit!!! I knew we should have kill that fey bastard. They told us not to trust them. Who wants to play with the egg? Can you see outside from the balcony or do you need me to shout directions because we need to knock those giants on their asses. Start by kicking them with these weird legs!"
Manipulating the controls at the table affords quite a good view of the battlefield in front of the hut, but being inside the thing gives one a severe case of tunnel vision. The Dancing Hut is battered from both sides, as well as from the front.
Stroking the egg across from left to right and flicking the dark brown speckle causes the hut to lurch back and to the side somewhat. Once more, things go flying and Zorka cries out in dismay. Those gathered on the balcony, however, stand their normally - as though gravity were permanently anchored to the floor. It is outside the hut that most of the action occurs, however.
A particularly large frost giant raises his club - an icicle-cum-stalactite - but before he can attempt to shatter the Hut's window, an enormous wooden chicken foot lashes forwards with alarming speed. The giant doubles over, before trying to rise. His long, ice-beard is stained with blood and his innards pour forth from an enormous gash in his stomach. His glacier-blue eyes roll into the back of his head.
This time the thunderous sound is the sound of the lead giant falling over backwards and onto the ground.
The giants' collective reply is calamitous. A beam on the roof cracks and showers the floor with splinters. While it instantly begins to knit back together, the rate is not likely going to be fast enough to withstand the entire frost giant army for long.
One down. Forty nine to go.
Ishbaad gets a little excited at the response of the hut to Jorvik's command. He can't help but shoulder his way in to try it out.
"If stroking that spot kicks the leg out, what happens if we do that then spin the egg again like Ice Melt's Quietly in Sunlight did?" he asks, forgetting again about Zorka and the cat-turned-Coramus.
Doing his best to replicate Jorvik's motion, he drives the Hut's chicken leg out, then squints a bit as he spins the egg in a few quick circles before grabbing it again and halting the spin, in order to evaluate what happened.
"Do the irresistable dance next! Maybe the giants won't be able to swing because they will be too busy dancing!" Ishbaad shouts.
Suddenly an idea flies into his brain.
"Yes! Make the giants dance! If that is how it works, then do the command for the incendiary cloud!"
Ishbaad himself cannot tell if it is urgency or excitement that drives his enthusiasm.
Ishbaad decides to go with the 'everything' approach. The hut puts out a leg and spins violently. Zorka screams, but the screams of the giants outside drown her out. Several are hobbled as the chicken leg with the razor-sharp wooden feet tears into them with a whirlwind motion. One even seems to have succumbed to blood loss at the end of it. However, the giants' reach is far enough for them to avoid the tactic and Ishbaad doubts they will be fooled by it a second time.
He rubs two particular spots on the egg in a gyrating fashion and the Dancing Hut of Baba Yaga does just that: it dances! It leaps from side to side and kicks out its feet, not in anger, but in a joyous toe-tapping motion. Almost a dozen giants become mesmerized by this performance and repeat the actions themselves. Their companions look on bewildered for a while, but then decide to attack again with renewed vigor.
Finally, Ishbaad holds his hand over the egg, covering it completely. Suddenly, he releases his hand upwards and outwards. A cloud of sparks, flames and super-heated steam rises from below the hut and follows the movement of Ishbaad's hand. The giants flee backwards to avoid the scorching wave. The companions allow themselves a moment of grim satisfaction as the enormous humanoids back off and three more of their number lie scorched and dead on the ground.
The sensation is short lived. These giants are expert boulder-throwers. While staying out of range of the hut, massive chunks of ice and rock pelt the exterior. The boards on the western wall crack and one even falls off, revealing more giants hurling large objects.
Five down, forty five to go.
"Make the hut larger!" cries Zorka. When she receives only blank looks, "The hut is a living thing, and this is the First World. It is made of wood... so plant it!"
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He has noticed that the flecks seem to correlate with the number of giants outside the hut, as there are many, many more of them here than there were before. As the hut bobs and weaves, spins and twirls, the huge chicken-like feet start slashing out at the giants surrounding the hut, rending gaping wounds all around them. The snow goblin giggles maniacally as he operates the abode in a way that no sane human ever would... but who ever said a goblin was sane? The timbers and boards of the hut are strained to capacity, but all around them, the carnage is increasing.
His hands are flying, stroking, flicking, spinning, causing no small amount of damage inside as well as outside of the hut. "Tell me when we have a gap, and we can run!!!"
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight looks at the egg, as Ishbaad makes it dance. He's been calling out commands he's learned from the book, and now he thinks it is his time.
"Egg, we not know each other yet, but we gonna soon. Me and you gotta bond or we all gonna die." He pushes around Ishbaad and Jorvik, climbing up to touch the egg. He focuses in, forcing his will into the egg. Whatever is in there struggles, but under the passionate exterior of the goblin is a mind that will not say "no". He coerces when the entity struggles , caresses and coddles when it moves in his directions . For what seems like hours to him, but only moments to those around him, he battles. Finally, he whispers to the egg, "Plant yourself, become one with the earth, and He makes a motion on the egg like pressing a seed into the soil, and then mutters something completely unintelligible.
VERY WELL, LITTLE GOBLIN. I WILL PLANT MYSELF - BUT DO NOT THINK I WILL ALWAYS OBEY YOU. I HAVE BUT ONE MISTRESS, AND YOU ARE NOT SHE!
The egg seems to sink within the bowl at the goblin's pressure. He worries that it might crack as he pushes harder, but it holds. Suddenly, the hut slams itself downwards, and the heroes can hear its feet burrowing into the ground below. The woodwork walls and beams seem to pulse with energy as the hut apparently draws life from its new 'roots'.
Bit by bit, the companions, Zorka and the cat begin to shrink! It is an uneasy sensation, and not at all what was desired. The table is soon out of reach of the rapidly contracting goblin, though the larger of the companions can manage to reach. They clamber on top of the table to realize that the frost giants seem to be shrinking roughly apace with them... as is the entire First World.
Of course! It is just the hut that is getting bigger. Everything is relative - but it really did feel as though they were shrinking. Maybe they were. Maybe Baba Yaga's magic did shrink the entire visible area of the First World here. Who knows how this strange place works?
The giants all look around in dismay as the hut towers over them. They are bold, however, and continue to pound it with boulders and the occasional club.
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The now very little feeling goblin laughs as he pulls out an extract. He gulps it down, and suddenly flies up into the air. He flies up to the top of the pedestal, and looks at the egg. A maniacal look crosses his face, as he gulps down his mutagen, immediately getting even more nimble than he was.
"Now we dance, little egg!" He strokes the egg, carefully, flicking the dark brown specks with incredible agility. The hut begins to dance, and the goblin in the musician. "Some music, please, Boss Jorvik!" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight requests.
He has noticed that the flecks seem to correlate with the number of giants outside the hut, as there are many, many more of them here than there were before. As the hut bobs and weaves, spins and twirls, the now immense chicken feet starting stomping and slashing the giants all over the place. The snow goblin giggles maniacally as he operates the abode in a way that no sane human ever would... but who ever said a goblin was sane? The timbers and boards of the hut are strained to capacity, but all around them, the carnage is increasing.
His hands are flying, stroking, flicking, spinning, causing no small amount of damage inside as well as outside of the hut. "Die, giants! You no trouble us no more!" He keeps his eye out for a fleck that might indicate the dawn piper, so that he can get vengeance on the vile fey in the form of a chicken peck!
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As the hut shakes, tossing Aoife about the interior of the room, she watches as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight manipulates the egg. With each of his motions upon the egg the hut responds accordingly, shuttering and causing all manner of items about the room to topple and crash down around the child.
Taking a few steps forward, closer to the table, she watches as her eye-line is no longer level with its flat surface, and that she was continues to drop shrink beneath it. She takes a few quick steps forward, already feeling that she has crossed far less of the room than she would have only moments before, and jumps for the table. In the small span of time that she drifted through the air she watched as the room continued to expand.
Where before Aoife would have been able to easily jump upon the table, now she could barely manage to grasp its edge. There she hung, her legs dangling many feet above the floor of the room. No, wait, she thinks, looking past her boots at the sheer drops to the planks below. That's impossible...
I should be taller than this... but that drop is bigger than Uncle Ishy's height...
Suddenly, her grip began to slip on the edge of the table, which she knew should not be happening. With her father's gauntlets, she should have the strength to hang for hours without so much as tiring, but as her body slipped, inch by inch toward toppling to the ground she knew this was no longer the case. Looking up now, Aoife could see her arms resting within the enormous gloves. Where once the gauntlets had been colossal, the hem of the cuff coming all the way to her elbow, now the gloves were many times bigger, so large, in fact, that her body could fit wholly inside of either and with room to spare for a horse.
It was then that she realized that as she shrank, or the room grew, the gauntlets were changing with the room and not with her. Her grip was slipping because she was no longer wearing the gloves, but simply hanging her hands inside of them. Her grasp was too small to even clutch the edge of the table, she was grasping at the leather of the gauntlets alone.
"Umm..." she mumbled in a confused tone. "A little help here, please!"
Then she fell, fumbling backward, kicking her legs as she tipped in the air and bouncing painfully off the floor. As her watering eyes looked up through the pain the child caught sight of the gauntlets both falling through the air toward her. As each came down they blanketed her, covering every inch of her body.
Whether it's the rocks hammering against the hut, or the goblin controlling it, Kuragin has to struggle hard to standing. The witch could use his powers of flying to move around with speed, but the sudden movements of their transport might send flying in unexpected directions. So rather, the witch walks slowly along the hut's corridors, stumbling against the walls.
Finally, he makes his way to the balcony, where the hut feels more stable. And from here, Kuragin can survey the battlefield while his companions try to control the Hut. On their left, a frost giant is raising its greatclub to crash it down on the Hut. But before it can strike, Kuragin snaps his fingers and brings the hex of slumber upon the giant. The giant stumbles backwards as its heavy eyelids close and send the creature to land of dreams, sending a big cloud of snow in the air as it falls.
"Can you move this thing closer to our old friend over there? I would like to pay our regards to him," Kuragin says, pointing towards the flute-playing fey.
Ishbaad looks on in confusion, first at what seems to be himself shrinking, then at the growing hut. Once he finally thinks he has figured out what is going on, he sees Aoife's gloves growing with the hut.
Is this even possible?
Ishbaad rushes over to his charge, pulling the gloves off like an oversized blanket.
"What is this?" he says rhetorically as he helps the girl to her feet. "How can this be?"
Hopefully the gloves will shrink with the hut!
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Hearing the orders/request of Kuragin, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight quickly complies. He tries something completely new, dancing the hut over dawn piper, while still slashing out at the giants in the way. When he is close, he squeezes the egg, hard. The hut lurches forwards, and snatches up the fey in the chicken beak!
As the surviving frost giants (or their First World facsimiles) fall back in fear, Baba Yaga's Dancing Hut turns its sights on the dawn piper. The chicken-beaked and -legged hut snatches a shocked Auraenos up from the ground like the worm that he is. It flings him high into the air and them makes to swallow him.
Inside the Hut, the door flings open and Auraenos flies through it to land hard against an enormous bookshelf. "Ummm... hi," he says sheepishly when he recovers from the bruisingly brutal forced entrance, "Let me explain... I was cold and needed a cloak." Auraenos runs his hands over the warm furs he seems to have recently acquired. "The frost giants wanted something in return... so the location of a legendary artifact seemed a reasonable exchange to me. Can any of you say you wouldn't have done the same in my place? Besides... you seem to have handled yourselves well." The dawn piper wrings his hands nervously as he looks from face to face.
For a moment, Aoife can do naught but stand and stare at the recently re-arrived creature. As Auraenos explains what had happened, though to the child it did not seem like a particularly legitimate reason for threatening the lives of her and her family, she could feel her hands clench involuntarily into ungloved fists.
"Would a fitting punishment be to take him from this first world and back to another," he voice squeaks with intensity and ferocity of a mouse from way down near the floorboards while beside the colossal sprawled gauntlets. "And then kill him there?" She then motions to Eternity's End on her back, not realizing in her shrunken state that it might be little more than a toothpick.
Ishbaad registers the words that Aoife shouts in anger at the betrayal of the dawn piper. Their stark contrast to her normally forgiving nature is yet another stabbing reminder of the change she has gone through, dealing with the pain of losing her father, and seeing what... whatever it was she saw.
Hardly registering the thought, though processing the emotions all the same, Ishbaad subconciously knows it is getting harder and harder to ignore the evidence of the emotional wound he is responsible for.
He clears his throat to break himself from his mindspace. "Indeed, that would be a fitting punishment. It is clear that this wretched being cannot be trusted, though it was not for lack of effort to give him the benefit of the doubt." Ishbaad spins sanctus custos in the air as he approaches the re-captured fey.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. What does the manual say about holding a prisoner in this place?" Walking over to Auraenos, Ishbaad forcibly removes the dawn piper's musical instrument.
"The punishment shall begin with this." Without hesitation, or any such pomp and circumstance, Ishbaad simply snaps the pipes in half, and casts the pieces across the room to skitter and bounce to a stop in the corner.
"Whether we kill you in this realm, or kill you in another, know that you shall taste death to pay for your transgressions. It matters not what we would have done in your place. Only a fool would think that doing something just because someone else would do the same is any sort of justification. Pray we do not decide to bring you before the Queen of Witches to answer for your selfishness. This is her hut after all."
With the dawn piper securely stashed within the hut, awaiting his true punishment, Ishbaad rolls his head, trying to loosen the muscles in his neck and shoulders. He looks on as Kuragin and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight look over the cloak that was removed from Auraenos' shoulders. Surely for such a price, the cloak must have some value. If anyone could find out what that value was, it was those two.
The Library. Time to figure out where to go next.
Staring at the ledger, Ishbaad tries to figure out what type of book might give them a clue as to the nature behind Artrose, and what or who it is.
"Mother, Maiden, and Crone. Waxing moon. Artrosa." Ishbaad mumbles those things over and over out loud as he searches the books in the forested library, aimlessly. As if repeating them while searching without purpose will bring some epiphany to his mind, and give him a direction to look.
Finally shaking his head and realizing he is wasting time, he decides to just start somewhere. Going back to the ledger, he looks for Mother, Maiden, and Crone. A comprehensive guide to the witches triune.
"Say Zorka. Can you tell me what you know of Artrosa?"
It can't be that easy can it? Surely the information must be here somewhere...
"This is odd... The Three who Watch? What does this mean?"
"You would rob me of my immortality for the crime of sharing a little information with a tribe of giants in order to keep myself from freezing to death?" Auraenos is shocked and begins to protest further but thinks twice about it when Ishbaad snaps his pipes and looks as though he might do the same to the dawn piper's neck.
With the bothersome fey dealt with, the companions return to matters at hand. Firstly, the cloak is mundane in every way... though it is indeed warm (counts as a 'furs' addition to a winter outfit). The fact that they were sold it for so little after doing so much for this fey is not lost on the five adventurers. Secondly, they find Zorka quickly pulling the egg upwards from the bowl and returning the hut to its size. As with before, the sensation is that it is the occupants who are growing, and not the hut shrinking.
"Artrosa? You mean you don't know of it?" Zorka is momentarily stunned. She squawks loudly as though to clear the cobwebs from her mind and hops down to address her five visitors. "Artrosa is one of Baba Yaga's prisons. The maiden, mother and crone represent the stages of life and each stands vigil over Artrosa during their corresponding lunar phase. Baba Yaga has moulded this part of the First World specifically to imprison a god who angered her: Kostchtchie, lord of the Frost Giants. His moon is ever out of phase, and so while he roams the halls, he is doomed to never roam the Artrosa that currently exists. He is a god of your plane, I am surprised you have not heard the stories..."
With a bit of a stumble, the child feels the room around her begin to change and her relative size within its walls change also. It causes a slight sense of vertigo as everything around shifts and adjusts, slowly returning to, what she would consider, its normal size in relation to her. A few feet ahead, she sees the shape of her father's gauntlet changing as well, and Aoife holds her hands up before her face to judge if they will now fit as they had.
Picking the gloves up from the floor, she slides each on and scrunches up her nose, wondering if they still feel the same. The gauntlets were always colossal to her, but she could not help but wonder if the gloves were different now.
They did seem to feel different.
"Artrosa is a prison... here in the first world," she repeats what she thinks she has understood, forcing herself to dismiss the wonder about the gauntlets. "And this giant god, K-K-Koss-titchy..." the child butchers the name. "Is imprissoned there."
"What did this giant god do to anger Baba Yaga?" she asks, stepping forward toward Zorka though her voice is meek and mild, a byproduct of the confusion and uncertainty she feels. "And I'm sorry that I do not understand... He is in Artrosa, but at the same time not really there, because his moon is not out of phase? I... don't think I understand..."
"It seems like Baba Yaga has left us this clue, but I don't know what this means for us," she says, turning to each of her companions one after another.
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"That be why the giants is so mad, though. That makes sense. They wanna save their god. Who wouldn't want to do that? If Zarongel were trapped by someone, me would probably try and free him. Or is Milani now the patron of Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. The Everbloom is very nice, and me think very pretty, but she not so big on fire. Me confused right now."
Zorka seems to smile at Aoife's puzzlement, though her beaked face reveals few emotions that a human could register. "Kostchtchie the Deathless was a human, who killed his own family at a young age... many years before Irriseneven existed. As he aged, his prowess grew and he became a great and feared war chieftain, leading a growing army who carved out a large swathe of Iobaria for him to rule. While he fought many creatures and conquered them all, the giants of the northern reaches were his most hated foes.
"Eventually, he came to fear death. He sought Baba Yaga, summoning her to his camp. He promised her death at the swords if she did not grant him immortality," Zorka shakes her head at this and makes a 'tuk-tuk' sound with her beak, "She granted him is wish but turned him into a deformed frost giant who cannot die. She imprisoned him here on the First World, but his legend attracted worshippers. He is now a demon-god who whiles the centuries away plotting his revenge on my mistress."
Watching his companions dealing with the Frost Giants Jorvik nods in agreement.
"I knew we should have just killed Auraenos. We are different now, in a different world with different rules. To keep to our honor code will be to expose us to weakness to these first worlders. Yet, I shall leave the judgements to you Ishbaad."
After listening to the histories of Zorka, Jorvik is stunned. Growing up in Irrisen he should be more familiar with these fables. Did he not pay attention? Did it not matter to him as he was destined to join the Iron Guard? He felt like he should be able to contribute more.
"Friends, I will not lie. I should know more. It seems that we still have much and more to learn. Now what does this all mean in our quest to free Bab Yaga?
"Artrosa... So I suppose this prison is where we must head next in our search for Baba Yaga," Kuragin muses, trying to wrap his head around the idea of a prison existing and not existing at the same time. "Do you know the way there, Zorka? Or should we consult the library?"
Although I would like to avoid any immortal Frost Giant lords while searching for the Queen of Witches
Ishbaad nods to Jorvik, accepting his assessment about what they should have done.
"My thoughts exactly," Ishbaad follows up both Jorvik and Kuragin, "But I think the most important question right now is why?"
He looks to Zorka and back to his companions as they look at him, slightly confused as to the point of his questions.
"What purpose does going to these prisons serve? I don't doubt that you are correct that the three ravens seem to be guiding us there, directing us to the keys to make that trip, but when we get there, what is it we are supposed to do, or find? Knowing where to go is only part of the quest. Knowing why may be more important. Something tells me that Baba Yaga is not imprisoned there herself, and this is just another crumb along the trail. I would like to know what crumb it is we are looking for."
"The white raven only told us to seek the three who are one. Presumably that is Artrosa, which we have done." Ishbaad takes a deep breath, using the action to help clear his head and think.
"Aureanos." Ishbaad flashes a viscous look towards the dawn piper, tied in the corner, the roots and branches of the hut stringing him up like a ridiculous looking fruit. Ishbaad turns back to his companions, not addressing the fey. "It cannot be a coincidence that we are destined to travel to the prison of a frost giant demon god, and were just beset by a horde of frost giants."
"Aoife, do me a favor child. Please give our prisoner here an up close inspection of eternity's end. I would like for him to see the blade that will end his existence while I speak with him. Or more appropriately, while he speaks to us about the real reason he set those giants upon the hut, and us within."
Ishbaad flexes his neck muscles as he speaks, daggers flying from his eyes. The flex causes his stony skin to bulge, and several of the crystalline nodules to roll, making it appear almost as though he has no neck. Perhaps physical might means nothing to a fey in a world where he cannot truly die, but the giant and imposing figure would surely cause most beings pause.
Following her guardian toward the fey, and forgetting their own continuing squabble for the moment, Aoife listens to her uncle's words. As he then speaks to the meddling creature, the youth draws the ever-sharp blade and holds it before Auraenos, she does not swing wildly nor draw it back as if to strike, instead she positions the blade's edge a hair's breadth from the creature's cheek. As the fey cowers slightly, feeling the weight and burden of her guardian's words, Auraenos inadvertently touches the cold steel and cannot help but make eye contact with the child for a brief moment.
In that passing instantaneous span, her gaze wills the creature to make move against her and her family once more so that she might christen eternity's end and douse it ceremoniously with his life force. One quick swing, she knew this is all it would take to give the greatsword over to its intended purpose and nature.
Turning back to the group, and speaking toward Zorka, "The Queen of Witches wants us to journey to Artrosa, and find the prison of... K-K-Koss-titchy--" she again struggles with the name of the giant god. "So we can speak with him... fight him... or free him?"
"It seems we never knew it, but we were headed to Artrosa all along. But I still don't know why," Aoife agrees with Ishbaad, turning her gaze in his direction.
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"Me guess we find out when we get there, Eefie. We find this crotch-itch, and then we talk to him. Find out what he knows. Me bet that we find another key, so we go to the next place. Big scavenger hunt!" While many would be annoyed at what seems to be a game they are playing, it merely inspires the little goblin more. Games are what goblins do!
The cat pulls his borrowed head up from a parchment he has been inspecting and tut-tuts. "We are as close to Artrosa as the Hut is likely able to take us. That the Frost Giants are here is no coincidence. Having the contained power of Kostchtchie here for so long? Of course the First World has spawned creatures in his image.
"As for what to find here? The keys of course!" he cries, "The keys to the next location on the trail to find Baba Yaga. No doubt conversing with her guardians to find out why she hid those keys will also prove worthwhile.
"Now," he continues, "The First World is impossible to map, but if my calculations prove correct, Artrosa should be less than half a day's march north of here."
"And weren't you listening earlier?" Zorka butts in, "Kostchtchie is always in one of the Artrosas that doesn't exist! I highly doubt you'd ever be able to even see him, let alone talk to or fight him!" Zorka shimmies, a movement that causes her feathers to stick straight out and then immediately snap back into place. "Be glad of that fact, too! Kostchtchie is one entity you definitely do not wish to meet!"
Ishbaad's shoulders sag, ever so slightly. He releases a deep sigh, then turns to the others.
"So the white raven has told us we must seek out the three who are one. Artrosa is a place that is Baba Yaga's prison, made up of the maiden, the mother, and the crone. Artrosa is a half day's march from here, and all we know is that somehow, there are most likely keys there that will take us to our next destination."
"The maiden, the mother and the crone seems obvious this is the three who are one. The raven also mentioned that the maiden only appears during the waxing moon. Conversely, this Frost Giant Lord's prison never appears, because his moon is never in phase. Let us all pray it remains out of phase."
Ishbaad turns to the goblin. "I believe you are partially correct my little blue friend. I believe we will find a key, or series of keys that will bring us to our next location if we go to Artrosa and explore the prison. I do not believe we will encounter this frost lord, however. Our opportunity to visit the maiden may be short though, if it only appears during the waxing moon."
Ishbaad brushes off his magnificent star metal armor and stands tall. "Let us make sure we are rested, and then get moving. The less time we are in this cursed place, the better. You, traitor, will remain prisoner here for your treachery."
The oread looks up to the beams, then over to Zorka. "Zorka, this wretched creature is responsible for the attack on the hut. Should you wish you kill him for his crimes, I only ask that you wait until we are long longer in the first world. Can you make sure he doesn't move? I cannot hope to understand how this hut works and responds to your care."
"I understand." Jorvik nods along to Ishbaad recap of all that they have learned. "Zorka, will the hut defend itself if we leave it unattended while searching Artrosas? Is there more to learn in the library before departing?" Face flushing in embarrassment, the young man asks his last question. "Is there a place to equip ourselves in this world. I have, improvements that I wish to make to my weapons, and defensive gear."
"Never a merchant nearby when you really need one..." Ishbaad flashes a wry grin to Jorvik, knowing he has a few things he would like to take care of as well.
"Jorvik, your skill with carving is impressive. I should like to speak with you about Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's suggestion of Red Enamel, and what engraving I should put on my armor..."
Nodding along with her guardian's words, the task at hand becoming ever clearer when laid out so plainly by her uncle. After Jorvik has spoken as well, the child looks to the other's in the group and adds a few thoughts of her own. "So... we had two keys used to get us to this place. A plague doctor's mask, and lock of white hair... from a frost giant's beard."
"There is an ancient enemy of Baba Yaga here, in this place, imprisoned by her, and that creature is a frost giant god. It does not seem like chance that one of the keys to bring us here was a from a frost giant's beard... it may have even from K-K-Koss-titchy's very own beard."
"What is the significance of the plague doctor's mask?" she then asks, and bit of worry underlying her words. "Is that another creature in this place? Another prisoner of Artrosa?"
"More to learn in the library?" scoffs the cat, "An ant who has somehow made from his tiny hole on the beach to the brink of the sea ask if there is any more to the infinity of the cosmos than he has already traveled. You haven't even scratched the surface of what you can learn in that place!"
"Manners!" squawks Zorka, slapping the Coramus-cat behind the head with her broom, "They are far less ignorant than some, and you know full well they were asking if there was more to learn about their current quest. The answer to that is 'yes', but I get the feeling you are more in favor of field learning anyway."
Zorka cocks here head about the adventuring gear, "Well, the cauldron of Baba Yaga is a powerful thing. You will find many recipes on the shelves and in the library. You will also find rituals for converting gold, valuables and magic items into enchantments for you existing items. Just place the item you want to improve and the sacrifice in the cauldron - and be careful to say the ritual right the first time!"
"As for your prisoner," Zorka indicates Auraenos, "I do not believe he has done anything wrong. It is in his nature to do what he did. Fey are fickle and callous - even the goodly ones - so it surprises me not that he would trade the location of the Hut for warmth. I can imprison him if you like. You are the chosen of Baba Yaga, and if you believe his capture is in the best interests of your quest to free my mistress, then I will acquiesce."
"The significance of the doctor's mask is unknown to me, but I would guess some kind of healing is in order," the cat notes, "But maybe it just stinks in there! It could also be that there is no significance. Baba Yaga's mind is unknowable. Making the connection to the beard, though, is at least somewhat astute of you, child. Well done."
The cat licks its back, a foul sight given its loose, fur-less skin and the elderly face of the heroes' former companion.
The journey to Artrosa is a long one. Though Baba Yaga's cat said it would be half a day, how can time be measured in a place such as this? For a traveller of the universe and the planes, who can say to which day he referred?
As the Chosen of Baba Yaga venture forth, they spy many strange and odd things, defying the laws of nature that they are familiar with. A tree floats frozen in mid air, a cactus grows in an ice lake that must be too cold for such a plant to exist. Water flows upstream as well as downstream - making up and downstream meaningless except for the fact that the gravity the companions are experiencing should make a certain direction on the sloped river 'down'.
The five companions are passed by a roving band of centaurs. Like the giants, these seem to conform to no particular size - some as small as a cat, others towering fifteen feet into the air as they thunder past.
Continuing on, though, things do become more 'normal'. If the Cat is to be believed, this is because Artrosa was located on an anchor to the prime material plane. The laws of the heroes' homeland are gradually imposing themselves upon this place.
No-one can say when it happened, but night falls upon the snowy mountain. The companions find themselves in large crevasse, surrounded by cliffs on either side. Looking upwards, they see what Kuragin correctly identifies as a waxing moon in the sky.
Ahead is a colossal statue of a comely woman, naked, slight of bosom and young in the face. The Maiden. At her feet is a shadowy arched opening in the wall leading deep inside the rock. This entrance is blocked by heavy vegetation and an enormous willow tree, towering almost twenty feet into the air. Its trunk vaguely resembles that of a curvaceous woman. Dozens of bones litter the ground before the tree, some so ancient that the tree's roots appear to grow right through them.
A witch tree! Kuragin recognizes the thing immediately as an evil creation of witch-magic. They like to dominate their foes and force them to perform unspeakable acts before they are 'allowed' to feed the tree with their lifeblood.
At the heroes' approach, a sly face appears in the bark of the tree and it uproots half of itself, moves it forwards and re-roots it in the ground in an imitation of a 'step'. This step is thunderous and shakes loose icicles from the cliff walls that shatter upon the ground. "All who seek to enter Artrosa must first present me with a sacrifice," the tree says simply, and awaits a response with its branches waving around greedily in the air.
As the companions consider her demand, the tree points to a nearby frozen tree - a sampling compared to her - a dead centaur hangs there, impaled upon its icy branches. The blood of the corpse has clearly pooled on the ground and been channeled into the witch tree's root system.
"And don't even think about sacrificing some animal..." the tree spits, "My sacrifices need to be able to think.
"Well?"
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight spends some time crafting a potion of tongues as he said he would. He holds on to it for now, though tells the others he has it.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight turns to Ishbaad, "Uncle Ishbaad, how can we sacrifice a living, sentient creature? Wouldn't that be evil? Me a good goblin, so me no want to do evil."
He thinks for a moment, and turns to the tree. "Maybe you no wanna have a sacrifice, if maybe we can do a better service for you. We no wanna get eaten by you, and we not evil bad guys who throw sacrifices of intelligent creatures at things. Unless they maybe be evil, and deserve to die. What can we do to appease you, oh great tree?"
The tree screws up her face in impatience at the refusal and, perhaps, something else. "You must prove your worth to pass inside," she says, pausing for a while, "Offer me something warm, living, and bloody. If you don't, I will take a sacrifice myself - one of my choosing. I have stood here for centuries and claimed many sacrifices. Their bones are a testament to their foolishness in thinking they could win their way past me."
Ishbaad and Jorvik both feel that the pause was significant. The first thing she said was informational, the second was a demand. She may be deliberately omitting an 'or'.
"I say we might have finally found some use for Auraneos..." Kuragin cannot help but feel some satisfaction at the thought. But then, the soft southern blood is probably still too strong in his companions for them to agree.
So with nothing to sacrifice, will the passage be claimed by force of arms? Kuragin prepares to pass on his knowledge of witch trees to his comrades, while preparing spells in his mind.
Unless...
"Would there another way to prove our worth, perhaps?" Kuragin inquires the tree, thinking about the wording it used a moment ago.
The child looks on to the menacing tree, watching its swaying branches and grasping at the true, and terrible, meaning of its wanted sacrifice. She had been ready to strike down the troublesome fey for betraying her companions, and endangering them all, but as the time had passed her brewing rage subsided, though the child could not bring herself to forgive him. Now the prospect of so simply offering up a living soul, even one so vile, made her stomach turn.
"We cannot give up Auraneos to this tree" she states to her companions, her tone level and serious. "He has wronged us, but he does not deserve to be offered up as some meaningless sacrifice... to this thing..." Aoife gestures one hand toward the towering form of the witch tree.
"We spent a long time in the frozen north, and we saw a great many terrible things, but even we have not become that cold..."
Even as Aoife responds to Kuragin's comments, Ishbaad's mind spins with the possibilities.
'...You are the chosen of Baba Yaga, and if you believe his capture is in the best interests of your quest to free my mistress, then...' The words of Zorka echo in his mind. He would indeed now serve the best interest of our quest to free Baba Yaga.
Ishbaad looks over to Kuragin and gives him a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "It took us all day to travel here. I for one, cannot think of a more fitting punishment for Auraneos' treachery. He sold us out for a cloak. Surely he would understand the value of us selling him out for something so much more valuable, wouldn't he?" Ishbaad's rhetorical question is dripping with sarcasm, energized by the hardening wall around his heart.
"However, as much as I would love to offer the dawn piper to the tree," Ishbaad looks to the tree to see how it responds to such a possibility, "I do not know if I want to waste another day traveling back to Baba Yaga's hut, and then bringing the prisoner back here. So tell us, powerful witch tree, what is the other way that we might prove our worth?" Ishbaad asks the question, blatantly implying his understanding that there is another option to consider.
Jorvik had travel all across the frigid north, seeing many strange sights and wonders. Yet a talking tree. And none of them blinking an eye. Not wanting to look a fool, Jorvik listens in as his brothers and sister parley with a tree hiding his amazement.
Finally the bloodspeaker chimes in, "Come my woody friend, there is much we have to offer, and much you wish to have. Blood you seem to have abundantly, and blood is a gift we wish not to give. Is it gold? Riches? The three ravens found us worthy, I seen not why you should not feel the same.
'What must we do to prove our worth?"
"Baba Yaga's Hut?" the colossal tree takes a 'step' back, her roots slamming the ground with thunderous force, "What are you doing with the hut?"
"We are the new Black Rider," Ishbaad proclaims as proudly as he ever has.
The witch tree regards him as though he must be a fool, but upon spying the certainty on his face, her wooden eyes widen. "Prove it," she demands, "If you really have taken upon you the mantle of the Black Rider, then you will know the answer this riddle:
"Midnight, Morning, Bright Sun—
Spoke thee with but one.
Accursed now you be,
For he befell the wrath
Of two times seven.
Oh tell me, who is he?"
"Illarion Matveius," comes the reply from the companions, without hesitation.
The face carved in the tree screws up as though it might be about to vomit. "Fie to you, then. A sacrifice would have been so much more delicious, but you are indeed worthy. I am sworn to allow the representatives of my mistress to pass, and pass you shall. Welcome... to Artrosa."
With that, she re-roots herself out of the way of the entrance and becomes still once more.
Entering the archway, the Chosen of Baba Yaga find it leads to a long and twisting flight of stone stairs carved into a cramped passage of cold black basalt. Ancient wall carvings on both sides of the passage depict wide fields filled with wildflowers and springing deer. After a final turn, the stairs end far below the surface in a large, rectangular chamber.
Hewn from the surrounding basalt, the walls of this large chamber have been chiseled into an incredibly intricate display of thousands of wildflowers. In the middle of each of the carvings, a wreath of pinecones encircles a life-sized carving of a young nude woman. On the north wall, the figure washes her hair. On the east wall, the figure sits staring upward at a crescent moon. On the south wall, the figure picks a bouquet of flowers, while to the west, the figure points to a triangular, knot-shaped symbol. To the north, a curving stone staircase climbs up and disappears into the western wall, while an open archway beckons in the southwest corner.
In the center of the chamber, hunched over a large brass bowl filled with fetid water is the unmistakable, giant, two-headed form of an ettin. This one is obviously female, as those feminine parts of her anatomy are clearly visible, often slipping out from her ragged dress as she argues with herself.
"You said we should!" cries her left head - straw-haired with a long nose and face covered in warts.
"You agreed!" retorts the right head - bald and plump of face, but covered in age spots and wrinkles.
"Yes, but only because it was Caigreal!"
"Our orders don't come from her!"
"I know... but... oh, Nine Hells... should we tell Jadrenka?"
"Of course not!"
"But what if she finds out anyway?"
"Then we're both f&+*ed... wait, intruders..."
Both heads turn to face the five companions and shout as one,
The massive ettin's hands move in the unmistakable gestures of spell casting and arcane energy begins to crackle from her furiously moving fingers as she begins to chant.
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Without batting an eye, the threats to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight are are answered. The quick goblin hands reach for his bomb bag. He pulls out a particularly interesting looking one, and flings it at the ettin. BOOM! CRACK! goes the bomb, as it explodes in not a burst of flame, but a wreath of electricity.
He keeps lobbing bombs until she goes down, alternating between fire, electricity, and . "You! No! Threaten! My! Friends!" he yells in giantish.