The mammoth is understandably distracted by the singing of her own fur.
Braegan doubles down on the team’s efforts, screaming wildly as he continues to pour cursed flames from his hands all over the big troll.
The tiefling keeps up his assault on the fey, flanking with Braegan:
Teb gurgles a horrible sound before collapsing and burning, smelling like sickly moss and candles. The troll is clearly dead.
Hommelstaub is slashed again by the tiefling, and is clearly flagging in energy. With a cry of rage, the tiny fey pulls out a glittering icicle from nowhere, and stabs himself in the heart. He dies, laughing in slower and slower croaks, with a satisfied look on his face that is rapidly covered in hoarfrost.
Combat is over!
Hommelstaub's gear is frozen to him, but you are able to chip it away. He possesses:
1 sickle (diminuitive)
1 potion
1 scroll
3 vials of something cold and blue
2 thunderstones
64 gp stamped with the seal of Irrisen
Potions and scroll radiate magic; vials do not. They'll require a Craft (Alchemy) roll.
Teb's gear is a little scorched, but still works.
1 discarded spear, large, radiating magic
a belt pouch
a key
a small mirror, radiating faint magic
48 gp
As you begin to pick through the troll's and fey's belongings, a surge of wind suddenly blasts from the swirling vortex in the ring of icicles, gusting outward in a stinging spray of snow and ice. In an eyeblink, a gaunt horseman with curling ram’s horns and wearing coal-black armor lurches through the portal astride a black warhorse, surrounded by tendrils of cold, dark mist. The rider slumps in the saddle, a shard of blue ice jutting from his back. As rider and mount come to a halt in the snow, the horse suddenly dissipates into black smoke, and the horseman falls to the ground with a groan. His very presence seems to darken the forest around him, and you feel an otherworldly chill when observing him.
He rises slowly, and removes his ram's-horn helmet, and is suddenly far less fearsome in aspect: an old, old bearded man, wrinkled and balding, and clearly dying from the mortal wound in his back.
He coughs wetly and whispers to you in what was certainly once a regal and commanding voice. "Heroes. Great Ones. I beg to speak with you. I have knowledge that is of great import to share with you."
Dezső's looks puzzled and disappointed at the fey's stabbing itself, but he quickly recovers and begins to sort through the fey's things. He is especially curious about the vials, but as alchemy is new to him he is not yet able to identify them. The rider appears before he could closely examine the other items, and his curiosity at this development overcomes any sense of caution or threat of danger. He stands at attention and quickly responds, "Speak. We listen."
The tiefling girl gapes as the fey ends his own life. This could not be a simple minion, if it was willing to go to such extreme lengths to avoid interrogation by their group. Or perhaps he had only done it to spite them. Who knew the mind of fey?
She jumps as the cold blast brings the mounted figure, almost dropping the vial she had been examining. "Err, you mean us? And... are you being followed? How do we close this blasted vortex? Can we help you?" Flustered by the sudden apparition and still on edge from the fight that has just ended (and unsure if she should expect another), Yrja fires off one disjointed question after the next.
The old man wheezes, his eyes dark and almost vacant. He answers in his otherwordly whisper, which is strangely resonant.
"Once...I was Illarion Matveius. Now I am known as Black Midnight. I am Baba Yaga's Black Rider, harbinger of the Witch Queen's return. And I speak to thee. I may be followed, but I will be gone ere they find me. The portal...you can find its source in the Pale Tower, on the other side, but this portal is one of many. Through them, Baba Yaga's daughter, Elvanna, will spread a new ice age across your world, consuming it for all eternity. You may close this portal to save your kingdom. It will not stop Golarion itself from ultimate doom in a blanket of ice."
He pauses and coughs, bringing up black blood.
"...Help? Yes. I call upon you for aid. Something has happened to Baba Yaga. She is due to return to Irrisen after a hundred years, to place a new daughter on the throne. But our Queen...Elvanna...she has other plans, it seems. Baba Yaga has not appeared. Elvanna has betrayed us somehow. She hunted down the Riders who would herald Baba Yaga's return, and slew us all. I alone live yet, to know her plans. You must find Baba Yaga. You must..."
He renews a coughing fit.
Chiquq is relieved when the enemy falls, and preforms her typical post-fight ritual of immediately rushing to her mammoth's side and checking Ila over for injuries. When the icy portal suddenly erupts and discharges the ominous rider, she has her hands busy keeping the startled mammoth from fleeing the unnatural sight, but watches with wide eyes and a little fear of her own, for the presence of this fell spirit.
At the rattling, bloody speech, Chiquq holds closer to Ila's coarse fur, fingers buried into it.
"...where.... where must we go, then? Where to begin a search for.... Baba Yaga?"
It's a name of unholy dread, a whisper to chill the nights around the fires of Chiquq's own people. She shudders, and wonders if this Elvanna can possibly be worse.
"Through your..." she stares at the frosty void. "...gate? To this Pale Tower? Can mortals return from such a thing?"
The old man smiles, wearily, at Chiquq, and answers in that strange, inhuman whisper. "The portal...is of Elvanna's doing. The Pale Tower is in Irrisen. But Baba Yaga is not. To search for my Lady, you must use her Dancing Hut to follow her path. The Hut is a powerful artifact. It can travel great distances, even to other worlds. If you can control the Hut, you may find Baba Yaga."
He shakes his head at the last question. "The Pale Tower is merely your first waymarker. But I fear you will go to places no mortal dare tread before your task is done. My mantle..." He coughs again, staining the snow before him.
Dezső's brows knit in concentration, as he tries to memorize and process the rider's every word and responses to Chiquq's questions. For some reason he can't identify, the evocation of Irrisen and Baba Yaga has a calming and focusing effect on him.
"So, are we to travel through this portal? Yes or No? Are we to destroy it, either now or after traveling through it? If so, how do we destroy it? Please be as clear as you can, because we know little of these matters."
Imendri seems unaffected by most of the rider's entry and speech, innocently smiling when Baba Yaga is mentioned. Maybe he's remembering the childhood ghost stories with more joy and less fear than they were intended to impart to young Kellids.
Noticing everyone else is not smiling, he goes back to poking holes in the snow with his iron sword.
Offhandedly, he says "Ehh, do yuu want us to use healing magics on yuu?"
Braegan—initially taken aback at the black rider’s sudden appearance—struggles to rein in his anger. ”You want us to HELP Baba Yaga?” The fury in his voice mounts, ”Didn’t she start Irrisen in the first place? Ya know, and set these witches up as tyrants in our world in the first place?”
He crosses his arms, trying to determine if they’re being played somehow. ”Is there no other way to tear down this Elvanna?”
The old man looks wearily at Dezső and nods. "Yes, you must enter the portal to destroy it from the other side. As to how, I am not sure, but it will be obvious to you. Once you do that, you must go to Whitestone, and find the Dancing Hut. The Hut will lead you to my Lady. I have two of the keys to the Hut..."
He withdraws a coiled strand of long, thick white hair, and a neatly folded mask like that of a plague doctor, but smaller, from the voluminous folds of his cloak.
He coughs again, wetly, and shakes his head at Imendri. "My time draws to an end, and these keys were rendered inactive by Elvanna. My death will restore them. Save your healing for yourselves...""
The knight nods at Braegan, stifling another wracking spasm, and goes down on one knee. "You speak truly. My Lady sundered the Linnorm Kingdoms and brought down ice that never melts. What she has done should freeze your blood. However...her daughter plans something far worse--a Golarion shrouded in Winter Eternal. Your choice is a grey one, I grant that. Know this, though: the Old Crone will pay her debts to you. Dear Grandmother always pays her debts..."
Dezső listens closely and when he is sure the rider is done he responds, "That guidance is most helpful, and I will seek your Mistress. Although I know little of Baba Yaga, I have a very clear feeling inside that Elvanna must be stopped. I'm not sure how I know this..."... he trails off, lost in some introspection.
Yrja frowns as the stranger talks and talks. She gives Braegan a nod as he voices his objection.
"Baba Yaga gives witches a bad name. If there is another way to stop this ice queen, we should seek it." She thinks for a moment, her eyes on the knights, who clearly is not much longer for this world. "But if there is no other way, so be it. There is too much on the line, if what you speak is true."
She draws her fur hood closer around her face as she peers into the portal, attempting to see what is on the other side.
"I too have only bad rumors of Baba Yaga," Chiquq admits to Braegan's misgivings. "But your soft south lands will be destroyed by this winter if we do not stop it somehow."
Chiquq coaxes the unwilling Ila closer to the portal, standing next to Yrja as she stares into it. "Dread spirit, I take it we must go... now? We cannot return to where we came from to gather more supplies?"
Some of the steel comes out of Braegan, "I don't like it, but until we know a better way ... we have to do what we have to do, right?"
"I imagine we may not have time to return to town for supplies, but do we have time to look in the cave nearby? I believe that was the troll's lair and there may be something in there of use to us."
Yrja nods. "Good point. As Mahb likes to say - waste not, want not. I will help you search."
She smothers a feeling of guilt and dread at the thought of perhaps never seeing Mahb again. She did not doubt that time was of the essence here, so there was no question of them trekking back to the village and... and saying their goodbyes.
"You have but little time," says the knight, nodding.
He holds out the strands of white hair and the plague mask in one long outstretched arm, his dark fabric glittering with strange magic, and the air seems to vibrate with power.
"Take then the mantle of responsibility as I journey to the Lady of Graves. May Old Grandmother, keeper of the Dancing Hut, My Lady, be found by your hand, as these keys are given life by the ends of mine. Farewell."
In a flash, a curved black dagger appears in his other hand, and, as if in a salute, he slits his own throat, bathing the hair and mask in a spray of dark blood. A wave of unknown force emanates outward, giving each of you a strange icy shock that gradually dulls to the sensation of cool stones on your flesh.
The Black Rider, his life blood now poured out, stands there, smiling dimly, then collapses.
His magic robes and vestments, and dagger, melt away like ice in a fire, leaving behind the body of a much smaller, normal old man, dressed in a simple black tunic, his face in the peace of death. The keys remain, no longer coated in blood.
Each of you feels strangely increased in some way, and a subtle compulsion to go through the portal tugs at you as well, although you can still go look in the troll's lair.
Chiquq flinches at the wash of bitter cold and dark blood. In the sudden absence of the otherwordly presence, she shudders. "Bad omens on bad omens, most unnatural. Fell spirits and foul gateways.... what is the right path to take, to trust the word of a dark soul such as that? In Baba Yaga's service? ...but my heart drags me to that gateway, now."
Chiquq shudders again, biting her lower lip. "Let us see what is here, quickly. I hate all of this!"
Keeping a hand knotted into Ila's fur for comfort, Chiquq begins to search through the icy lair, using both her eyes and her sense for spirits.
Chiquq leads the group back toward's Teb's hideaway, leaving the former Black Rider to be slowly shrouded in white.
The cave is a natural cavern, rising fifteen feet over head, with icicles of frost already formed on the stone stalactites. There are two bearskin rugs on the floor, surrounded by crates, barrels, and other supplies.
Chiquq finds a lockbox; true to its name, it is locked. The crates contain over a month's worth of common meals, including some hocks of meat that Brae realizes is Farmer Dansby's cows, neatly butchered and smoked. Much of the goods must be from local farms as well.
Dezső says nothing, and continues to feel a strange sense of calm about the direction things have taken, and even some elation at the feeling of physical change . He aids Chiquq with the search of the cave and focuses on the lockbox once it is uncovered.
Braegan looks around, his mood continuing to darken to a solid brood as the situation fully sinks in. The momentous nature of the moment is lost somewhat as he realizes this may be the last time he seeks his family, his sisters, in a long time. Or ever.
His nature re-exerts itself, however, and he forces a strident tone. He looks at the cave, shakes his head at the collection of food goods stolen from his hometown. "At the very least, we should bring along some of this food. No telling where we'll find our next meal, one through that portal. Some of old Farmer Dansby's cow meat smoked up proper might be the best meal we see for a bit."
As she takes stock of the items that Hommelstaub and Teb had carried, Yrja lifts the key for the others to see.
"Could this be for the box that you are trying to open?"
She then sets to work investigating the other things, particularly the ones that tickle her magic sense.
The blue vials she pockets for later study. If they were headed to the frozen north, she would do well to understand the magic of ice and snow.
Imendri watches the ice queen's guardian slit his own throat and looks confused, then frustrated, as he falls to the floor.
Looking around for some explanation and finding none on the faces of his companions, he sighs exasperatedly and plops down right into the snow, waiting for everyone to get done with the cave. Occasionally he looks over at the corpse as though it made a lewd joke, then looks away shaking his head.
"Should we leave a message, if any of the townspeople come looking for us?" Chiquq says hesitantly, still petting Ila for comfort as she lets Dez open the lock and looks worriedly towards the portal.
Seeing her cousin-by-various-relations sitting down in the snow, she walks Ila out to him. "Kinsman, I am as worried as you. There are bad things stirring."
Yrja identifies the scroll to be Remove Curse, the potion to be Cure Moderate Wounds, the spear to be a Spear of Manhunting.
A 2-foot-long blade extends from the heavy crossbar of this
+1 boar spear. Designed to catch and hold humanoid prey,
a spear of manhunting automatically resizes to match the size
of its wielder when grasped. Once per day on a successful
critical hit, the wielder of a spear of manhunting can cast hold
person as an immediate action on the target hit by the attack
(Will DC 13 negates). The hold person effect immediately ends
if the spear is dropped or withdrawn, such as by making
additional attacks with the weapon.
The mirror is an Attentive Mirror.
This small, ornate mirror is mounted inside an enclosing
case, such as a locket, small jewelry box, or even just a leather
flap. To use an attentive mirror, the owner must spend 1 hour
gazing into the mirror in a ritual to attune herself to it. At the
end of this time, the owner can willingly give the mirror to
another creature. Thereafter, the creature that has the mirror
can use it as an emergency means of communication with
the mirror’s owner. Up to three times per day, the mirror’s
possessor can open it to alert the attuned owner. This
functions as a mental alarm with a range of...
Yrja deduces that Teb was using it to communicate with someone. Theoretically, it could still be watched.
Dez fiddles with the lockbox singlemindedly until, finally, noticing Yrja's proffered key. It's clearly for the lockbox.
As she waits for Dez to open the lockbox one way or another, Yrja shares with the others her discoveries about the items that Teb and Hommelstaub had carried.
"This is what they had on them. I've been studying the magic objects and, well... the news are good and bad. The good part is that this spear has some interesting properties that will come in hand if we fight human-shaped opponents." She looks at Chiquq questioningly, in case the hunter wanted to claim the spear. In Yrja's opinion, she was the most qualified. "The bad news is that this mirror is enchanted in a way that could allow whoever made it to communicate with Teb... and it is possible that they are still listening. I suggest we smash it, so it doesn't fall into the hands of some unsuspecting trapper and allow Elvanna to spy on goings on here. At least, I assume it was Elvanna who sent these two and all the rest of those who have been plaguing this area in the last few weeks."
That is a lot of words from the normally quiet and withdrawn tiefling. She takes a deep breath before she continues.
"They also had a healing potion and the scroll can be used to remove a curse, should we be so unfortunate as to get one stuck to us." She kneels on the snow, waiting to see how the others will take her news.
Dez accepts the key without hesitation. "Don't need to make things unnecessarily difficult." After checking for traps, he opens the lockbox.
After hearing Yrja's descriptions: "Nicely done, Yrja. I agree the spear seems best used in Chiquq's hands. Unfortunately, the evil before us is not only in fey and monstrous form. As for the mirror, is there any way to sever the connection to the owner and assign a new owner?"
Dez suspects that gazing into the mirror for 1 full hour will transfer ownership of the mirror. There is the risk that someone will be watching during that hour, though.
Using the key, Dez finds the following in the lockbox:
4 potions radiating magic
four blue quartz stones, clearly of Irriseni make, each worth 100gp
a silver diadem worth 300 gp
a jeweled necklace worth 400 gp
a painting of an ice coated and lovely bustling city, with 100gp to an art collector
3 sapphire rings worth 75 gp each
a longsword scabbard with decorative filigree, worth 125 gp
a small scrimshaw sculpture of dancing sprites surrounding a piping satyr, worth 50gp
also, coins:
2457 gp
3313 sp
1760 cp
Dezső's eyebrows raise when he uncovers the riches within the lockbox. "I hope we can sell these wherever we are going, because we really could use an opportunity to buy some more equipment."
He examines the potions, puzzling over them with Yrja if she is so inclined:
In relation to the mirror: "I think one of us can take over as the 'owner' of the mirror by staring into it long enough. It could prove useful if we are separated at any point. But the current owner will presumably learn at least the face of the person looking into the mirror, and maybe our location. I'm not entirely sure how this thing works. I hate to destroy such an interesting bit of magic, but Yrja is right to be concerned. What do folks think we should do?"
Chiquq looks bemused at the spear being offered to her. "If you think I am best to carry this. Imendri is far stronger. I am a hunter with the bow, primarily. But if none other wish to claim the spear I will use it for now."
She listens to the description of the mirror and how one might take control of it, then offers her first smile in what feels to her like many days. "Cha! They will not learn face, at least. Only eyes. We take a blanket; we cut a little slit, enough for one of us to look through. And we hold this blanket up so all the witch, or whoever it is, on other side... all she sees will be a white blanket with a little slit with eyes. We do not have to show all of this around us to the mirror."
Chiquq seems pleased with her solution, but knows little of this sort of magic. Hers is that of spirits and nature, not artifacts of power.
"Since you use a spear and since this spear's main special power, as Yrja describes it, is to hold a victim still... it seems appropriate for you to use. I'm sure Imendri will be only to happy to use his sword to dispatch a foe you have rendered immobile with the spear..."
Dezső listens carefully to Chiquq's idea for the mirror, commenting. "That's very clever, Chiquq, and I'm comfortable with that plan, but others may not agree. If we do this, who should become the 'owner'?"
"I use a spear only when I cannot use my bow well," Chiquq replies pithily, but shrugs.
"Will this person who is watching be able to do things to our... viewer? If so, perhaps it should be someone with a strong will."
Yrja tears her gaze from the pile of sparkling gems and jewelry. They were so pretty and colourful among the bleak landscape of ice and snow, she could barely resist running her fingers over them and cupping them in her hands like some precious birds.
"I can do it." she offers. "I know a few tricks of the kind they might try, so perhaps I can resist them better."
"Good idea on the sellable items, Dez," remarks Braegan. "Wherever we're going, I can pose as a traveling trader and entertainer. Having some merchandise will sell the disguise better." He looks warily at the mirror, "That thing makes me uneasy, but if Yrja is willing to look into it, it could prove handy." It's obvious that Braegan doesn't want to volunteer his face or eyes to whoever's watching from the other side of the mirror.
Braegan grins at the exchange about the spear, "I'm worthless with weapons, for the most part."
Dez identifies the potions as Feather Step, and belatedly realizes that must have been how Teb was able to get through the snow without difficulty.
The goods can be easily placed upon the party's donkey-cart .
The portal awaits. What do you do?
Yrja takes care to put the mirror some distance away and cover it with her pack before speaking with the others again.
"Shall we re-enchant the mirror now, then? Who knows if we will still get the opportunity once we pass through the portal? And the idea of someone possibly spying on us makes me uneasy, best if they know as little as possible of our plans and movements."
"These potions will allow the imbiber to move without difficulty in deep snow and similar challenging terrain. It seems most useful for the melee fighters so they can move around with ease in combat. I suggest Imendri, Chiquq, and I carry one each, and whoever wants should take the last. But I'm open to other ideas."
That being said, Dezső turns to helping organize the loot on whatever conveyance the group wants to use. He lets the rest of the party decide whether to enter the portal immediately or after Yrja stares into the mirror.
"Using it on this side is smart. Aska and I can watch the portal to make sure it doesn't start collapsing."
Chiquq will cut a slit with her dagger in the heavy winter blanket she keeps bundled on Ila, to pass over to Yrja with suggestions for how to drape it, etc. "I will pray for your spirit while you do this thing. An hour is a long time. I will have water near if you need it it during the time."
Perhaps hot water, Chiquq muses, if she can get a flame going in this miserable unnatural snow. Ila still has some firewood...
For a time, Dezső will watch the young witch as she attunes the mirror, admiring her bravery in engaging with such strange magic... although, he reflects, Yrja's own magic is itself most strange, and resistant to his methods of careful analysis. Dezső will then wander to further explore the cave, the huts outside, and the circle around the portal (watching for traps known and unknown of course), immune to the cold.
Dez scrutinizes the igloos, huts, and the ring of icy teeth, but no further items emerge upon his perusal.
Yrja finds that the mirror is attuned to her now.
Yrja senses a subtle shift in the magic of the mirror and breaks off her gaze, emerging as from a dream. She shakes her head to clear it, then climbs to her feet stiffly, limbs clumsy with cold and the lack of movement.
"Well, I am ready. The mirror is attuned to me now. I hope that we won't come to regret this. So, what is the plan?"
She walks to the donkey's side, rubbing the beast's neck and rearranging its blanket.
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