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A burning desire overcomes the oread. It causes him to throw all caution to the wind. He doesn't even check to ensure that Aoife has indeed turned away before he starts unbuckling his britches and stumbling forwards.
Only Aoife can see the murderous glint in Kyrisjana's eyes as she eagerly awaits the three remaining males and ignores the small girl with the large gloves.
The child looks the strange creature up and down, her eyes slowly tracing over the form and figure of the thing. It is not that she can process fully what is unfolding around her, nor the intention of her companions toward this thing, but seeing her family act so strangely, so slack-jawed and enamored, while observing such a thing sent a shiver up the child's spine.
Then at hearing her guardian's words to retreat away and cover her ears, the child had heard enough. There is a brief flash before her eyes, revealing an old barn buffeted by the driving snow and a confusing cacophony of animalistic cries rising from within its walls over the din of the storm, though Aoife could again not process the meaning of this vision or the feeling it sent crawling over her skin. For the child, the speech of the thing before her and the brief flash of pseudo-memory instantly set her emotion to boil.
Without saying a word, the child turns away from the others and slowly raises up the enormous gauntlets toward the sides of her head. She waits in this pose for moments on end, her chest heaving and teeth gnashing together as the bubbling anger takes hold of her muscles. Her poised hands do not cup her ears, but instead grasp the hilt of the greatsword positioned just above her shoulders.
In one fluid motion, the child turns and springs toward the thing. Aoife does not speak or shout, but steps forward with the intent to swing eternity's end with every fiber of her being and carrying the hope of separating Kyrisjana's head from her shoulders.
Earwigs are never a turn-on for a man, especially not when they are crawling in and around your every crevasse. Ishbaad was unfortunate that his britches were just down enough to allow insectile entry into his crack-region.
Just as the oread crushes the last of the insects, he looks up in time to see Aoife behead the object of his desire. Nymph-blood soaks his front and the spell is broken. No more is he attracted to this headless thing of evil, and he quickly does up his pants.
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"Please, wake up from her spell," Aoife's voice calls to her friends. There is an odd resoluteness backing the youth's words that she has not been known possess as of late.
Lifting her blade, Aoife looks over the sharp edge at the bloody smear still spread over the length of the cold iron. For a few moments she stares at the remnants of the thing's life force that even now drips in slow, ghastly clumps from the weapon, then moves her glance to the unmoving form at her feet, and lastly looking to the garishly colored lump a few yards away. With an exaggerated motion the child swings the blade fully around herself in large arc, causing Eternity's End to whistle slightly as it passes through the air before each of her companions.
Each of the men is speckled with a fine mist, the remains of an arterial spray that coats the blade. The blood flies free in the form of a thousand tiny droplets and rains down accusingly upon her male companions.
"She meant to hurt you," she states, watching as Ishbaad still fumbles with is breeches. "Or worse..."
"None of you are allowed to get hurt," she adds at last, her tone now softening. "I don't know what I would do if any of you left me."
Once past the bloody display of impaled frost giants and wilted wildflowers, the companions find the cavern opens up even more and is filled with a wondrous light. Dawn and pre-dawn emanations seem to come from all sides, lining each bloom in the filed with a bright golden glow. The scents are phenomenal, like nothing the five had ever experienced on Golarion. Somehow they are more powerful, more raw and yet far more gentle on the nose than the mundane flowers of home.
A bovine snort brings the companions out of their scented reverie and face-to-face with a very large bull - an ox, if any had to guess. Thankfully, it seems to be serving as the mount to a rather beautiful human woman. Her hair is turned into curls that have been plaited and threaded with smooth, simple stone hewn beads. Her eyes are golden brown and possess a wisdom far beyond her seeming twenty or so years. She wears a simple smock, but has a resplendent spun-feather cloak draped across her shoulders.
"My name is Jadrenka," she says simply, as though stating a fact that were already known... and it is known. Somehow, the truth of that statement is burned into the minds of the companions. Perhaps it is their mutual connection to Baba Yaga, or perhaps something more direct. "What are you doing here in Artrosa... and what have you already done? What sees a child, an oread, two Jadwiga from Irrisen and a snow goblin come to the First World and explore these ageing halls?"
While the companions do not feel compelled to answer truthfully and without hyperbolae, Jadrenka's keen eyes and calm demeanor while seated atop this mighty steed suggests that it would be in their best interest to do so.
Upon hearing the fey's sultry words, Jorvik loins burns with desire. He begins shedding weapons one by one.
Reverberates Forstreaver as Jorvik tosses it aside.
flits Heartseeker as Jorvik throws it the other way.
Fumbling with his britches, trying to drop his pants, Jorvik begins panting in a primeval way.
Watching the blood flow from the beheaded fey, Jorvik blushes a scarlet red trying to hide himself from Aoife.
"Well met Jadrenka. I am Jorvik the Bloodspeaker and these are my valiant companions. What have we done? Ha." he laughs a hearty laugh. "We have done everything. The blood of our foes blazes a red trail from our world to here. The skulls of those that have stood in our way line it. The souls of the departed light the way.
"Yet we shall parley if it suits you. We are here at the behest of Baba Yaga, wearing the mantle of her Black Rider. We seek the keys to find her. In you, we hope to finally find an allay, as you are also chosen."
The child waits a moment, unsure herself if she is waiting for her companions to explain further or if she is simply enamored with this woman and afraid to open her mouth. When at last she finds her voice, she steps forward and clears her throat, surprised that even her body seems frightened to address this woman incorrectly.
"As my brother has said, we have come to find Baba Yaga."
"We have come from our own world to this world, and to Artrosa, in search of Baby Yaga. If Baby Yaga is not here, then we hope to pick up her trail, and find any more keys that will bring us to her," the child begins, her voice a bit shaky. While talking her eyes occasionally drift back to observe her friends, hoping that will stop her, or interrupt, if she reveals something she should not have. "We met Baba Yaga's black rider, Black Midnight. He perished but passed on some his power to each of us, and we all pledged to take up his quest."
"In return, Black Midnight gave us a lock of white hair from a frost giant's beard and a plague doctor's mask," Aoife states, turning and pointing with a finger behind the group, as if pointing to very distant horizon and the location of the hut. "In Whitethrone, we entered the dancing hut of Baby Yaga, and when used the two items given to us by Black Midnight, it brought us to this world. I had thought our world was the only world, but now I know there are many more."
"Now here, in Artrosa, we do not know what we will find," she adds finally. "But if it is not Baba Yaga, then we hope to find more breadcrumbs, left for us by... well, I don't know who left them... but someone or something seems to be leaving a trail that, we hope, will eventually bring us to Baba Yaga herself."
"Then we will free her..."
"A noble quest, finding the Queen of Witches and creator of Artrosa," she says solemnly and without a hint of sarcasm, "As for who left the breadcrumbs, perhaps Baba Yaga did. After all, who better to find Baba Yaga than Baba Yaga herself?" The beautiful woman looks each over in turn.
"Only one of you is a witch," she notes with confidence, "And one of you is not even of the North of your planet. I know why you are here now, but why did you accept Illarion's mantle? What motivates you to find Baba Yaga?"
Ahh, the eternal question. How do I justify helping the queen of witches? My goddess has been quiet, though for her to take notice of someone as lowly as me isn't much of a surprise.
"Milady, I have asked myself that question many times. I believe each of our motivations started as something different. For me, it was as simple as undoing the damage that Queen Elvanna has wrought throughout the southlands. Taking on the mantle of the black rider was a means to that end." Ishbaad takes a deep breath, like Jorvik, hoping to find an ally in the guardian of this place.
"As to your second question, my motivation to find Baba Yaga, I admit I have continued to struggle. I believe the answer to that, even after we have succeeded in stopping the spread of the north to the southlands, is simple duty, and the integrity of my word. I swore an oath to Black Midnight. I will not shirk my duty, and will see the task done or die trying."
Taking a moment to let her uncle explain his intentions, Aoife remains silent. In the end, she adds for herself. "I want to be honest with you, Miss Jadrenka."
The child fidgets nervously as if afraid to speak openly and honestly.
"I... took up the quest to find... and free... Baba Yaga..." the child seems to have difficulty getting to the point.
"Because I want to slay Queen Elvanna," the youth then draws a sigh of relief having been honest with both the woman and herself.
"I hold Queen Elvanna responsible for my father's death, and so I will stop at nothing to kill her," the child says, and takes a moment to wrestle the folded, tattered harrow card. Before the woman, Aoife hold aloft the Queen Mother.
"I will give this to her when we meet at last. I feel with all my heart that this quest will bring me face to face with Queen Elvanna."
"I have set out to find Baba Yaga in order to find and ruin Queen Elvanna..."
Ah, the why.
"For me, my lady, it is much simpler. i am now, and always have been, and always will be an outcast. Shun by my people for my heritage on both sides, I have no home, no family, no place. To add to that I am a chronicler. What better place to observe than to be part of one of the greatest adventures of all time. To rescue a god?!
"I also carry with me a sense of right and wrong. Not strong enough to be called a morality, but a codex for me to live my life by. This quest is right. I aim to right the wrongs of the north. Queen Elvanna is wrong. The North must be the North. To make that happen we needed to take the mantle of the black rider on, to find Baba Yaga.
"To live, to fight, to love, to be loved, to die. What else is there?"
Whatever went around in Kuragin's head during their brief encounter with Kyrisjana, remains unknown. Perhaps only his anxiety towards the fairer sex overcame the unnatural desire, and prevented his life ending on the fey's claws. Or perhaps he just was slower to warm up than the more masculine members of their small party.
And now Kuragin is standing again in the presence of another beatiful woman. But this one looks less malicious - and her name is known.
"Well met, Jadrenka."
"Whether my companions know it or not, we are all moved by the winds of fate - and here they have guided us. I took Illarions mantle, because I have no love for Queen Elvanna's rule. I most of all I took the mantle, for I was fated to meet the dying Black Rider."
"Will you help us find the Queen of Witches?"
"I am impressed," Jadrenka notes, nodding solemnly and ignoring Kuragin's question, "You have all found each other and accepted this grave responsibility despite differing goals. I appreciate your motivations, and wish you luck in Artrosa. You must make your own way, though, but I will not hinder you. In fact, here is a key that might help."
Jadrenka reaches down into the feathery folds of her cloak and produces an aged iron key. "It is not the key you are looking for," she begins, "But it will perhaps be of use." Jadrenka dismounts and moves over to Aoife, ignoring the others. The witch hands Aoife the key personally. She looks up at the card the girl is holding aloft and smiles a warm smile.
"Vengeance does the heart good," Jadrenka puts a hand on Aoife's shoulder, "But do not let it blind you to your surroundings." The warden of Artrosa taps on the reverse side of the card, where the indecipherable symbols are written there. This time, though, they seem a little more familiar. Like she's seen them before now, but since the last time she looked at the card.
"Be careful as you travel these halls," Jadrenka notes, returning to the bull and laying one arm affectionately over its broad neck, "Not everything is as it seems. I regret that as I depart, more of the true nature of the world will be revealed to you. Best to draw your weapons."
With that, a golden nimbus surrounds Jadrenka. It seems to consume her and then both the nimbus and the maiden are gone. Turning to the bull, the five heroes see the meaning in Jadrenka's words. In pace of the placid farm animal is a mighty, black beast. Flames flicker out of its flared nostrils and its skin seems to have hardened into ebony armor plates. It looks around at the companions as though also seeing them as they truly are for the first time and then charges.
Just before the horns tear into his robes and his soft skin beneath, Kuragin has time enough to wonder what this hell-bull perceived them to be before Jadrenka disappeared.
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"Oh Sh..." Ishbaad's words are drown out in the sudden violence as the bull tears through Kuragin, tossing him to the side like a rag doll.
Yelling out in sudden anger, Ishbaad lowers his shoulders and flares his nostrils. His pauldrons stand proudly on his shoulders, trimmed with pieces of Onyx's massive antlers. They stand out against the bright red of his star metal armor, and almost seem to gleam at the opportunity to show off the latent magic within.
Grunting with each step, Ishbaad barrels forward, sword drawn back and trailing behind him to his right side. His left shoulder is dipped and leads the way across the room. With a shout, he closes the last few steps and connects his pauldron covered shoulder into the flank of the other-worldly bull creature.
Ishbaad is strong, as strong as many of the lessor giants. He has giant blood running through his veins. But the Witch's bull is very strong also. The impact is heart-stopping, the clang of metal crashing into the bull's armor plating producing a sharp peal that threatens to burst eardrums. For a moment, the bull tips to the side, ever so slightly being taken off of two feet as the stone giant and bull giant tetter on the edge of calamity.
Ishbaad knows he cannot hope to push the massive beast over. Just as the bull's weight begins to shift back, Ishbaad leaps backwards while bringing his blade forward powerfully, finding a seam in the ebony armor plates.
"Another test then! No, Baba Yaga. You will not find us lacking!" He shouts as he sets his feet, hoping the beast will try to rush him this time.
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Not sure at all of what is happening, but knowing he was in it to be a goblin hero, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight reacts to the bull driving into Kuragin. He pulls out a bomb, checking it for its type. Realizing the smoke and fire of this creature doesn't bode well for fire bombs, he makes sure it is a shock bomb. Without thinking, he throws, and then moves to check to see if Kuragin still moves...
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Kuragin moans off to the side, letting those gathered know that he is at least alive.
The bull thunders into Ishbaad. The inquisitor is a mountain man. His feet find a stable purchase that most dwarves would be proud of. Against a charging, armor-plated bull, however, he doesn't stand a chance. The massive creature rips right through him, all but ignoring the shock bomb flung by the goblin to plant its horns in Ishbaad's torso and carry him along for the ride. The oread is not so easily beaten, however, as he grabs on and twists the bull's neck violently to the side - using his own impaled body to aid in the movement.
A snap of bone from within the bull's massive neck signals its death. Somehow, the oread tore at it in just the right way and snapped its spine.
It takes a few moments to heal up and regain their composure, but the companions soon explore the rest of the large cavern. At one far corner, they find the following:
Tiny pieces of quartz form an inlay of a crescent moon in the floor here, surrounded by a ring of runes. A few yards beyond the inlaid symbol, a small round table stands against the wall of the cavern. A wooden bowl filled with fresh wildflowers sits in the center of the table.
Kuragin can read the runes immediately:
"From one stage unto the next, let my light always guide your path."
Behind the table is an archway, decorated with booming flowers and flanked by four wooden maidens. Inside the bowl are four tiny wooden figurines about 6 inches tall, all hiding within the flowers. Each figurine depicts a nude maiden performing a different task. One is standing, holding a bouquet of wildflowers. Another is kneeling, and seems to be washing her hair. The third one holds a triangular knot in her hands, and the last figurine is sitting with her head gazing upward.
Jorvik recalls that these figurines resemble the carvings of the maidens in the room when they first arrived in Artrosa.
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"Vengeance does the heart good," Jadrenka puts a hand on Aoife's shoulder, "But do not let it blind you to your surroundings." The warden of Artrosa taps on the reverse side of the card, where the indecipherable symbols are written there. This time, though, they seem a little more familiar. Like she's seen them before now, but since the last time she looked at the card.
Turning her gaze to follow the form of Jadrenka's long, slender finger, Aoife watches as the woman taps upon the unknown glyphs scrawled onto the back of the tattered harrow card. The child had carried the Queen Mother for so long, ever since Madam Enfer had read their fortune's so mysteriously and so long ago, and Aoife had even raised up this very piece of fraying parchment countless times for everyone to see. Yet, the youth had forgotten the harrow card, as alien and mysterious as its purpose was, still had one further secret to tell. The indecipherable symbols, plainly inked with care on the back-face of the card had not been there when Madam Enfer first read their fortunes, but later, the first time Aoife had taken the time to examine her treasure after fleeing Heldren with the prize had revealed those odd, foreign symbols that did seem entirely of their world. The thought sent a shiver racing across her body, wondering if the fortune teller had known Aoife would return to steal the trinket, had even allowed the child take it. Had Madam Enfer put ink to paper and revealed yet another glimpse at fate's design for her and her family?
It seemed hard to believe that fate could still govern their actions any longer, those having stood against unbeatable odds, stoked the fires of rebellion, and fled across the vast gulfs between worlds. Yet, they almost seemed a slave to the design at all time, their chains becoming evident just when they thought their actions were their own. Their lives seemed the paradoxical meeting of the threads of fate, as if invisible, ethereal tendrils tethered them all to fate's grand tapestry, but the child was unsure if she, and her companions, were the source of its weaving or unraveling.
"Kuragin!" she cries, running to the witches side. Behind her the towering form of Ishbaad wrenches upon the beast, but Aoife does not hear the sound of its spine cracking into pieces as she dives upon her friend. Squeezing the man tightly, Aoife looks him over and holds her gloved-hands upon the wound. "You'll be ok," she says, trying to comfort him. "I won't let anything happen to you..."
She stays with Kuragin, following closely at his side to be sure he indeed alright, and so is very close when the man examines the runes some time later. Within the bowl nearby, Aoife watches as the witch looks upon the four small wooden figures, and reaches in for herself to grab the form of the maiden, sitting but looking upward.
"She was looking at the crescent moon," Aoife adds, now holding the figure in her massive gauntlet, and referring to the last time they saw these images. In her other hand, the small key gifted by Jadrenka is still clasped tightly. "Though... I don't know what that means for us or what we should do."
She holds the key up for the others to see, but does not know of the lock which it opens.
Watching the witch disappear, and the bull appear, Jorvik not for the last time curses the instability of the First World.
Was that even Jadrenka or was that some fancy of the mind?
Self doubt can kill this party faster than that massive bovine.
Watching Ishbaad twist it's head off, Jorvik is amazed at how powerful his companions were becoming. It was truly a testament to the length f time that they had been together. They were truly becoming one.
"What was that you say Kuragin? "From one stage unto the next, let my light always guide your path.". What light would guide you from one stage to the next? The light of the fading sun? That would be west - symbolic of the maiden at the entrance while to the west, the figure points to a triangular, knot-shaped symbol.."
Jorvik walks up to the bowl and plucks the he third one holds a triangular knot in her hands.
"Thank you, child. I will be fine. It takes more than one charging bull to finish a son of northlands." But while Kuragin is not in danger of dying, it does hurt a lot. Just standing up sends spasms of burning pain all across his abdomen. And as he stands there, in pain and gaining support from Aoife, he is surprised how good it feels to be cared for - to have someone running to him in his moment of need.
Magic healing closes the wound, and takes away the pain. The witch gives a grateful smile for the child, and for a moment does not feel ashamed for turning soft-hearted, like the southerners.
--
"'From one stage unto the next, let my light always guide your path.' Would it be the phases of the moon we ougth to seek? This here is the crescent. Is it half-moon we should follow next?"
"Aoife..." Ishbaad starts as he sees the girl staring at the statue, unsure of what to do. "Look here. This table. If you place the statue here, it will be like a diorama of the carving we saw. That statue will look up at the crescent moon of the floor, just as they did in the entryway, after the first tree let us by."
Ishbaad points to the table, encouraging Aoife to try it out.
What's the worst that could go wrong? he thinks while subconsciously reaching his hand to the back of his neck. He rubs the muscles that were strained when the bull so violently ripped him off of his feet, shaking his body and his confidence in his strength.
"The light to guide our path would be the light of the moon, Jorvik my friend. At least that is how I see it."
Turning to Ishbaad, the child casts her guardian a quick smile. "Sure," Aoife adds in a plucky voice, walking toward the table. Taking a moment, the child positions the small statue just so upon the table. Taking a step back, she forward disapprovingly then leans in once more to adjust the figurine's position. With her tongue jutting sideways from her mouth, Aoife continues to move the statue to and fro while continuing to check, and recheck, its relative position to the image on the floor.
At last satisfied, the child releases the wooden statuette and takes a few steps away from the table, her eyes opening wide in expectation that something grand is about to occur.
Nothing happens.
As Aoife backs away from the table, the normally graceful and sure-footed child trips over a stone that she swears was not there before. She sprawls backwards and instinctively throws out a hand to right herself. Her flailing appendage catches on the edge of the bowl, sending the small wildflowers within spraying forwards and cascading down upon the figurines. A mystical light plays through the scene and the companions find it hard to look away. When they do, the solid wall beyond the archway is gone and instead a passageway leads out beyond this chamber.
With no other next step to speak of, the five adventurers move forwards. Ishbaad notes as they move beneath the archway that the crescent moon at its apex has become a waxing moon. When all are within the passageway, he points this out. As his friends turn, however, they note that the wall is solid once more and the path to the cavern is gone.
They follow a twisting passage down, down, into the depths of Artrosa. Unlike the maiden's dungeon, these passageways are unlit and the adventurers without darkvision are forced to provide their own light source. The walls feature intricate carvings of summer symbols, with overlays of pictures showcasing abundance, fertility and motherhood.
After a short walk, the passageway leads to a large set of doors, carved with a symmetrical maze-like pattern surrounding an inlaid iron wheel. Kuragin instantly recognizes the iron wheel as a witch's symbol, representing motherhood. Realizing now without a doubt that they have entered the 'Mother' aspect of Artrosa, the companions open the door and enter the chamber beyond.
This chamber is formed from an impossibly huge natural 5 chimney. A single staircase cut into the side of the chimney spirals upward along the walls, disappearing into the darkness overhead. A tremendous stone stage crafted from a single massive stalagmite whose top was sheared off stands in the center of the room’s boulder-strewn floor. An elaborate, concentric pattern of runes is carved into the top of the stage.
A tall and handsome woman who is visibly pregnant and nearly naked, wearing only a cloak trimmed with raven feathers, stands in the middle of the platform. Half a dozen small children race about the cavern, howling playfully. The woman laughs back, seemingly enthralled with their behavior. She has yet to notice the new arrivals.
Aoife feels a strong urge to join the children and play.
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Wow. This First Word is truly impressive. Yet one has to remember that this is all an illusion, or can be.
Sensing that Aofie is about to move forward, Jorvik places a restraining hand upon her shoulder. "A moment little sister. See those children, they are of the first world, and not like children of our world. And you, you are not really a child any longer. Not like them.
"As a child I often tried to join groups of children like that. I, in my naivety, though that children are children and playing is fun. Yet time and time again my attempts at joining were met with scorn and ridicule. Are you prepared for that should you wish to join them? Best stick with us. With us." he glances at Kuragin "You will always be included, never scorned or left out. Sadly the game we play is different. Deadly. You have grown up too soon. Yet proud you should be. I am. We are." the sadness in his eyes is obscured by a lone tear falling from the corner.
Turning to the group, "If that is not the mother I shall call the sun the moon." his half-hearted attempt at a joke is poor at best. "Come let us see what Artrosas's mother has to say."
Walking towards the lopped off stalagmite, "Greetings mother. I am Jorvik the Bloodspeaker and these are my companions. It warms my heart to meet the mother of Artrosas and see these beautiful children play.
"We are on a quest to find Baba Yaga having been given the power of her Black Rider. What aid can you give us?"
Jorvik looks at them expectantly and grins at the children frolicking.
Ishbaad smiles expectantly as Aoife places the statue, then screws up his face in confusion when it doesn't work like he thought.
"So what nex...." he is interrupted by Aoife's less than graceful move, which in turn opens the door.
"Fair enough." he says as they move forward.
Ishbaad stands behind the group, grateful for Jorvik's lead.
This place gets stranger by the minute, or whatever passes for time here.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Looking upon the children, Aoife heart begins to race and she is immediately filled with a sense of awe and wonder like she had not experienced in a long while. The sight before the group calls her mind back to a simpler time, back when she felt younger and certainly more carefree. Back to a time when she would play simply for the sake of playing. It seemed like a long while since any of them had fun, or did anything simply for fun's sake.
Taking a step forward nearer to the children, Aoife immediately felt the powerful, though loving, grip of her elder brother holding her back. Looking up to meet his gaze, she watched him intently and felt Jorvik's kind words fall upon her with same weight and comforting warmth as if he had embraced her with a hug. Without intending, she smiled in return to him, and blinked away a fresh welling of tears. It surprised even the child that these kind words and this caring gesture could so closely bring her to outright crying from the acceptance and companionship she felt.
Before she could blink back the last tear it formed at the corner of her eye and she lifted one hand to wipe it away without so much as hiding the act, or turning away from Jorvik, as Aoife normally would have done. She felt as one with her companions and blessed to have met such a group.
Blessed to have formed such a family.
"Okay... Jorvik. Anything for you," she could barely manage words her smile was plastered so firmly on her face. "I'll stay with you..."
Aoife took one last look over her shoulder at the group of children playing, then turned back to her elder brother. "I always have my real childhood, with mom and dad. We played so much then... enough for two lifetimes," she added, taking a few steps and now hiding herself behind Jorvik's legs.
With a loving tap on his leg, Aoife poked at Jorvik and added, "Thank you..."
The display between Jorvik and Aoife is watched very closely by the matronly woman. She smiles warmly when she sees the obvious care and love between Aoife and who she sees as Aoife's caretaker. She seems to make up her mind and directs one of the children to mind the others. The eldest child nods and cheerfully takes the lead in a game of hide and go seek under the stairs.
The mother figure approaches, and as she does so the companions note a very close familial resemblance with Jadrenka. This woman could indeed be Jadrenka's mother. When she speaks, however, her voice is so identical that it becomes clear to all that this is she.
"Such a lovely display between the two of you," she says warmly, "You take very good care of your young charge." It is unclear if Jadrenka is talking just to Jorvik or the group as a whole.
"Aid? I cannot find Baba Yaga for you," she notes, "But you know that already, or you would if you listened. What else is it that you would have me do?"
The child peeks out from behind the towering form of Jorvik, her eyes looking the woman up and down. It is stunning how closely Jadrenka and this woman seem, and this feeling falls upon Aoife before she even realizes their voices are in fact identical. As she stares ahead, the woman's eyes make contact with her own. This momentary connection startles the youth due to the sheer force of presence carried by the newcomer, and Aoife slinks once more behind her brother with a cowardly yelp.
"But you know that already, or you would if you listened. What else is it that you would have me do?"
Ishbaad lets out a deep breath, his mind beginning to play tricks on him about what innocent looking thing might turn deadly in here. The irony of Aoife's skills and that thought is not lost on the mountain man.
"While we bear his mantle, we are not Black Midnight. We are not versed in the ways and paths as Baba Yaga has laid them out, as he likely was from his centuries of experience. You would not scold us for asking a new face what help they might have to offer, or at least what direction to head in next? Our apologies for not recognizing you sooner, milady." Ishbaad ends with a short, polite bow.
"I should think that by finding you here, we have reached the next stepping stone in this mysterious river. I suspect we only need continue to move forward, and seeing you again will be all the clue we will need that we are on the right path. Correct? If that is so, then the only question I have left is what nightmarish truth hides behind this illusion in front of us." Ishbaad waves his hands, pointing towards the pastoral scene of children frolicking.
"Still with the swords drawn?" he asks somewhat rhetorically, though with no sarcasm intended.
The bull became a raging, mythical beast. What twisted things would the innocence of a child hide?
"Scold?" Jadrenka raises a slightly wrinkled eyebrow. Ishbaad can see amusement in her eyes. "My dear, you would not dare to speak to me so if I had actually scolded you. Think no more of it."
Jadrenka places her hands over her swollen belly and screws her face up as though bearing through some pain. She leans on Ishbaad for support. "A sturdy shoulder you have there. And an astute mind. These children are indeed not what they seem. But if you have more pointed questions before I leave, I will answer as best I can."
Kuragin keeps nodding on Ishbaad's remark on the children. "Goblins, they might be. Or imps, that would be suitable." And remembering too well how he ended up after the previous illusion was lifted, Kuragin steps backward so that Jorvik and Ishbaad are between him and the 'children'.
Their reason for being in Artosa coming suddenly to his mind, Kuragin starts quoting the ravens' puzzles.
"Look for this key where time catches up to us all, and look for the Mother when the moon is full!"
"That which you desire, the Changeling holds. Know this as well—you will find the Crone only when the moon wanes"
Looking at the room around him, nothing really strikes as matching the puzzles. Or could the changeling mean the children? Or Jadrenka herself? Neither are probably what they seem.
"Would there be any graves anywhere in here?" Kuragin asks Jadrenka. "Or do you know any changelings?"
"Oh, so you know more than you let on!" Jadrenka waves a stern finger at Kuragin, "You have everything you need, and yet you pester a pregnant woman who has her hands full with her 'children'." It is hard not to miss the air quotes implied by the sardonic way she says the word 'children'. "They neither imps nor goblins, but you will see what they are soon enough."
Jadrenka thinks a while on Kuragins words. "Graves? No. Burning is our way to deal with the dead. The place where 'time catches up to us all', though, I wonder if this refers to the Eon Pit. There is a dark pit in the womb of the Crone aspect of Artrosa. Those who enter it are irrevocably aged by the experience. What kind of key are you looking for exactly? There are many items strewn about Baba Yaga's halls, but you had best have some idea of what you are looking for, else you would need to loot the place to find it. Searching for my mistress is a fine task, and you may take that which you need, but I will not allow looting.
"As for this 'changeling'," Jadrenka muses, "It could well refer to any number of Atrosa's residents. With a Hag coven here, we do not lack for changelings. Without knowing what it is, though, any one of them could be holding the key and not even know it.
"I wish you luck... and take care not feed the 'children'," she says casually as the very air beside her seems to open up as though it were giving birth, with this cavern as the womb and beyond as the birthing place. With a smile, Jadrenka steps straight through and is gone.
True to form, the children no longer appear to be playful younglings. Replacing them are tiny little men with thick beards, leathery skin and gnarled fingers. They lick their lips and approach the adventurers.
"Hungry," says one.
"Hungry," the others agree. It is obvious what they wish for their next meal. The words of Jadrenka become suddenly clear: 'Do not feed the children', is synonymous with 'do not let them eat you'!
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Having stayed back, watching, the goblin is not altogether surprised when the creatures are no longer children. "I wanted to play, too..." He knows these things
"You no eat us, little ugly men. Maybe we let you go, but you no eat us." Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight decides that it is not time for bombing, in case the "children" have keys they need. He holds back, using his sling with cold iron bullets to snipe at them, but not doing much damage. However, he watches, expectantly, to see his friends wreck the things.
"The womb of the crone? We have to go in the womb of the crone? That doesn't sound right, and hopefully not what it sounds like. Changelings are the daughters of hags, so I would bet that there are more than a few of them around here. We may need to deal with them to get them. Why we not know what the key is?"
Ahead, the fragile, playing children have are no longer visible but instead are replaced with odd bearded things which are certainly children no longer. Without realizing her own actions, Aoife steps away from the creatures, her eyes wide with fear. It is only a split second before she next realizes that stepping back will take her further from the protection Jorvik's towering form offers. And so she steps forward once more, hiding in the shadow of her brother, and draws the massive greatsword form its resting place on her back.
"Let me do something kind for you now, big brother," the child says, rounding Jorvik's leg and sprinting directly at the closest bearded thing. Leveling her gaze at the creature, she swings eternity's end with all her might, releasing a mighty scream that fills the air.
"Like wheat to the harvest. "
Ishbaad strides forward to the mass of children- turned- monsters. His blade stays behind him again, ready to strike. He waits, patiently, for the doomed fey to get closer.
Foot work, power, precision. There, just below the rib cage.
His speed so reduced, the stone man focuses on his footwork, not wasting movements. Once the gaggle closes in, he finally swings. The cold iron of his blade shrieks as it cuts through first world flesh, one, two, then three in one blow. Gore spews out from fresh wounds as he turns to Jorvik and Aoife with a grin that says, Top that!
-Posted with Wayfinder
The first bullet flung by the goblin seems to anger the creatures and an instant change comes over them. No more are they stalking hunters, closing in on their food, now they are savage beasts desperately competing with each other for the first taste of a meal. They rush forwards as one and swarm Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. Two manage to grab ahold of the goblin and sink their surprisingly sharp, needlelike teeth into his soft flesh.
Aoife begins to clear a path to him with her greatsword, and Ishbaad joins in. The two seem like farmers, scything through a field of bloody wheat to save their companion. By the time they slice the two evil bearded creatures assailing their friend in twain, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is bleeding from several wounds that refuse to seal - at least, until Kuragin arrives with a curative wand.
With Jadrenka's 'children' laid to waste in a pool of blood, the companions move on. At first they try the stairs. They lead some seven hundred feet vertically, and end at a solid stone wall. No secret door can be found, and no key works to reveal a way out. Slowly, the educated among the five realize something: The phase of the moon outside is waxing, and this is aspect of Artrosa exists only during the full moon. They are in a version of Artrosa that does not exist. They shudder at the thought but descend the stairs from what would be the entrance to Artrosa, and continue out through the only other exit.
The passageways are decorated much as their entrance was, summer blooms and harvests are depicted on most walls, as are gory images of childbirth. Another spiral-patterned door marks the end of this first passageway, but this door proves to be locked. Remembering the key that Jadrenka gave her, Aoife tries it with success!
Warm yellow light fills this huge and lavishly decorated bedroom from three golden chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. The walls are painted white and draped with plush velvet curtains. Finely woven rugs cover the floor, while the furniture is upholstered in fine brocade and chintz. Silk sheets and a delicate lace canopy cover an overstuffed poster bed to the south.
A beautiful woman with short blond hair sits in the corner. Her slightly pointed ears and fragile features tell all of her half-elven nature. Her red eyes and the watermarks down the side of her face tell the companions that she's been crying.
"Must you torment me!" she yells, seemingly to the ceiling, "Kyrisjana gave me her hair, but we did not bed one another! I was no longer tempted by her when I became a woman! I love you and only you! Must you continue this charade?" She looks at the new arrivals as though half expecting, half hoping that they would leave. When they do not she throws her hands up in an exasperated gesture.
"Very well, then," she stands, "My name is Marislova. Who are you, and what fresh tortures has Jadrenka asked you to foist upon me?"
Another spiral-patterned door
Watching Aoife and Ishbaad save the goblin, Jorvik camls himself down. "Ice Melts Quietly in Sunglight, are you ok? You had me worried for a moment." Jorvik breathes a sigh of relief after Kuragin cures the tiny goblin. "That was too close."
Moving through Artrosa proves to be as great a puzzle Baba Yaga's avatars in the hut claimed.
"We should have paid attention to the lunar patterns more. Or are they just random like everything else here?"
Stepping into the room Jorvik's heart melts. He knows what rejection feels like. he know what longing feels like.
"Well met maiden. We are seeking keys to find Baba Yaga. Deeper into Artrosa we must travel. Do you know when the moon will wane? Is there something we can do for you?"
Another spiral-patterned door
After a short walk, the passageway leads to a large set of doors, carved with a symmetrical maze-like pattern surrounding an inlaid iron wheel. Kuragin instantly recognizes the iron wheel as a witch's symbol, representing motherhood.
The half-elf sniffs as she looks quizzically at Jorvik. "You are looking for keys but you do not know when the moon will wane? After the full moon, of course. It waxes for about two weeks, then it is full, and then it wanes. You do not seem to be of the First World, and so if you are here I must assume you are from Golarion. Have you not observed the lunar cycle before?"
Marislova shakes her head, trying to clear it. "What can you do for me? You certainly are not from around here. I want more than anything for Jadrenka to realize that Krisjana tricked me - and her! We were never lovers. I have eyes only for Jadrenka... I even became female to extend my time here in this bastion of motherhood!
"What more does she want from me? If you cannot convince her, though, help me to escape. I cannot stay locked in here for months on end with nothing but Jadrenka's cruel tortures to break the monotony. This room may look comfortable and opulent, but it is an illusion that I have long since seen through." Jorvik fancies that he can see the room become a little translucent, glimpsing the worn drapes and meager straw-filled furniture beneath.
"Well met, Marislova. Indeed, we did not come to torment you. We have met Jadrenka only briefly, but she did not mention you. Next time we meet, we can of course speak on your behalf."
Kuragin speaks politely, but keeps some distance to the half-elf. Who know what monstrosity hides behind the pretty face this time.
"So, if we want to enter the Crone aspect of Artrosa, we must wait until the moon is waning? Perhaps then we should head back. Spending two weeks in here doesn't sound too comfortable."
Ishbaad nods in agreement with Kuragin. "We are searching for some keys to Baba Yaga's hut. Our only clues are a dragon amulet and the riddle, 'Look for this key where time catches up to us all, and look for the Mother when the moon is full!'. The moon is not currently full, yet somehow we have come to the Matron version of Artrosa, from the Maiden version. The inclusion of the Matron version of Artrosa in the riddle leads me to believe that the dragon key is in this place somewhere." Ishbaad realizes quickly he is rambling a bit, and then remembers to offer the other side.
"We would not be inconvenienced to speak on your behalf to Jadrenka the next time we see her. Based on our recent experiences, I would not be surprised to see her in the crone version of herself, if we can find a way to that part of Artrosa. Once we have located the key here, I feel confident that the second key is in that version. Our other clue is a golden amulet that comes with the riddle, 'That which you desire, the Changeling holds. Know this as well—you will find the Crone only when the moon wanes. Perhaps you have heard of a changling that roams these halls?"
The child takes a moment, recalling at the names she had heard, and even stranger creatures they have encountered on their trek through Artrosa. "We have not met, seen, or heard of this Krisjana on our travels to you," the child's voice chirps out of the words at last. Aoife's chest is rising and falling as if she were out of breath, or scared, and her eyes are locked on the blond, pointy-eared, Marislova. "Who, or what, is Krisiana?"
Without thinking, the youth's face scrunches up in confusion at a thought which has just occurred to her and she cannot help but ask further questions.
"What do you mean when you said, you became female?" Aoife asks, looking oddly at the woman, even tilting her head slightly to the side. "You are saying... you changed from the form of something else... into this form?" Genuine confusion is now gripping the girl and she knows others have mentioned something called a changeling. Almost confident that she is wrong, she awaits an answer. Her friends always know when there is a threat about them, and do not seem think this is woman is one. Even so, the child cannot help from wondering at the significance of this woman saying she had changed
"The motherly and feminine power of the dungeon here is strong," Marislova chooses to answer Aoife first, "While my gender was unimportant to Jadrenka, changing from a man to a woman allowed me to stay here all the longer to be with her. Artrosa's halls would not long suffer a male non-fey presence. Such is my love for Jadrenka that I wished to stay here for the rest of my life, and so I became a woman." Marislova wipes the unbidden tears from her eyes as she recalls an earlier time. It is a while before she regains her composure.
"Hmmm..." Marislova thinks on the riddle Ishbaad presented and looks at the amulets, reading the words 'dragon' and 'gold' on the reverse sides, "It seems you do indeed likely need to go to the Crone aspect of Artrosa and journey to the Eon pit. There is a set of standing stones in these halls that you can get to by following the central path south until you have no option but to wind your way east. At the end, there is a teleportation puzzle that I am forbidden from revealing the solution to. Since you are here and it is not the full moon, I have every confidence you will prove a match for this puzzle.
"As for the key itself, I do not know what 'dragon' means, but I assume it is something to do with the description of the key itself. We do not have any dragons here in Artrosa.
"For the other one, this 'gold' key, Jadrenka is the only changeling Baba Yaga would trust with a key is Jadrenka, so she must hold the last one. Maybe she doesn't know it, or perhaps she is being coy with you. I do not know anymore... please, if you can convince her of my fidelity, I would be forever in your debt. For now, though, thank you for unlocking this door. Tell Jadrenka I wait for her at the grove a mile north of Artrosa's entrance. I can stay here no longer while she is like this."
"I wondered that same thing, if Dragon and Gold were clues as to what the key was. Your thoughts serve to reinforce my suspicions. I thank you." Ishbaad bows politely.
Male, non-fey? Who is this person?
"I assume you know how to get out of this version of Artrosa, which I understand does not currently exist. I will not keep you locked in this room, you have been most helpful. In return, we would be glad to plead your case to Jadrenka. I cannot promise anything in regards to our persuasiveness, however." Ishbaad furrows his eyebrows slightly, pursing his lips as if to say, Sorry in advance if we screw this up for you...
Once she has left, he turns to his companions and then begins to lead the way in the direction Marislova has indicated. As they walk, he speaks, trying to help them all wrap their minds around the strangeness of their current journey.
"So it seems both of our keys will be found in the Crone aspect, which we can get to down this hall. One will likely be in the eon pit, and the other seems to be held by Jadrenka herself. This should prove an interesting exercise in retrieving both of them. The information that Jadrenka is the changeling is... startling."
"You are really surprised that Jadrenka is a changeling? You did not know that Caigreal was her mother? Or did you not know that hags spawn changelings?" Marislova has clearly assumed the companions know quite a bit more than they necessarily do. Perhaps their being servants of Baba Yaga is the cause of said assumptions, perhaps something else.
The companions set off to the south and, at the advice of Marislova, they ignore all detours to the west and the east. It is after traveling down seven hundred feet of ornately decorated hallway that the companions finally reach a large chamber, artificially carved from the raw rock of the mountain in which Artrosa is nestled.
A deep, black pit gapes in the floor of this chamber, hewn by hand from the surrounding stone. Rows of rusted iron manacles hang along the room’s walls, their chains hammered deep into the stone. A rack along the east wall holds numerous cruel-looking torture implements.
A passageway leads further to the south beyond the pit, and it appears to curve eastwards. This will need to be cataloged in their minds for later use, however, as two massive frost giants with deformed and gangly limbs stand up from their game of chance at the far side of the pit.
"Fresh prey, brother!" one of them says in the language of the First World, the lilting and chaotic way of speaking sounding odd on his lips. The ponderous and harsh tongue of the giants would be far more appropriate.
"Indeed. Their flesh will taste all the sweeter after what that foul b%%*# did to our friends," replies his friend, "Time to show that Vsevolod what a true Frost Giant is worth!" With that, they both pick up boulders - there are many piled next to them - and begin hurling them at the companions. While the first two boulders miss, stone shards fly from them as they break upon the wall and slice into flesh.
"The last thing..." Ishbaad says, somewhat sheepishly while shrugging his shoulders.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. Remind me to do more reading in the library when we get back to Baba Yaga's hut. It seems I have some catching up to do on the ways and mysteries of Baba Yaga."
Ye gods and little fishes, I am glad it isn't frost giant blood that runs through my veins. Ishbaad thinks as he ducks from the sudden, brutal assault. Shielding his head with his armored arm, he runs over to use his body to shield his smaller companions.
"Move move move! One of these boulders is going to catch one of us clean! Find some cover!"
Not seeing much, Ishbaad breaks into a lumbering sprint. A sprint, at least, for him. He draws sanctus custos as he arcs around the edge of the pit, trying to close the gap between himself and the rock throwing duo.
"The Centaur Prince shall find you pathetic and lacking! Just as I judge you now!" Ishbaad yells, accusation in his eyes and voice. His weapon and hands glow with the retribution of his matron goddess, and the judgement of destruction follows his blade as it arcs in with the Oread's charge.
Fancying himself a towering specimen of his race, believing that giant blood does indeed flow through is veins, the scene is nearly comical as Ishbaad appears pint sized compared to the behemoths that pelt his friends with the shattered stones. His strike is anything but pint sized though as the blade slices clean through the achilles heel of the closest giant.
"Aoife! Get him while he is down, clutching his leg!" Ishbaad doesn't stay to finish off the first one and advances on the second one. He doesn't see the massive boulder as he comes around from the hulking form of the first, prone giant.
Jorvik's normally yellow-white beard now appears silty grey as the dust and pebbled rain down on him.
Sweet Desna. One of those and I am a red blob on the floor of Artrosa. Jorvik thinks as he ducks down.
Whipping Heartseeker from his back, he quickly flits an arrow to the string. Pulling back, rocking ever so slightly in his crouch, the ends of Heartseeker curve dramatically towards each other.
Seeing Ishbaad foolishly charge the Frost giants, Jorvik loudly curses. He closes one eye and relaxes his two fingers, letting the tension of the bowstring rocket the shaft towards the massive opponents.
The arrow whistles through the air, sailing high above Ishbaad's head, yet hitting the frost giant squarely in the stomach. Knowing that he needs to do more, much more, he begins to chant in his native tongue. The cadence of the sounds, rising to a crescendo, inspire the others to swing stronger, throw farther, and hit harder.
This is going to be bad. Very bad. he thinks as he nocks another arrow.