Catching his sister's eye, Matt nodded towards the rope. Knowing that her blade would make short work of it, he made himself ready, even as Freyja began to sing.
Reaching into his spell pouch, his nimble fingers quickly found the reagents he needed for his spell. Mixing the tallow, brimstone, and a sprinkle of iron filings, he rolled them into a small ball. Cradling the ball in his hand, he waited for the door to open and for a clear shot.
"Uh...okay...wait up!" Evelina replied, as she scampered after Freyja, drawing her rapier and ready to strike at the fey inside.
Maddy moves up towards the door with her sword drawn, prepared to cut the rope. Keeping her voice low she asks, "Are we sure there's no other way out on the other side? Are we prepared for the quick one?" She's just happy there aren't any bushes inside the barn for the twigjack to make use of.
Cithembi brings up the rear, thinking himself more useful casting spells from behind.
Matt nodded at Maddy's question. In a whisper, he said, "Good point. Evelina, can you scoot quickly around back and see if there's another door or exit?"
Evelina hesitated at the sound of her name. Giving the twins a nod, she sped around the perimeter of the barn.
As Evelina rushes around, she sees one shuttered window, in the same place on the wall as the unshuttered window that seems to provide their primary means of accessing the barn's interior. Glancing inside as she passes the open window, she sees the faun at the barn's far end, bound to a horse stall with a rope around his neck. Next to him, the quickling stands holding a small whip; nearby, Tindlecrick watches nervously, shifting his weight from foot to tiny foot.
But in Evelina's haste, she makes no effort to conceal the sound of her footfalls in the snow, and as she passes the unshuttered window, the sounds inside suddenly stop. Someone-outside-someone-outside! the rapid-fire voice of Faernip's mate calls out. Tindlecrick-go-see-go-see! One final crack echoes off the walls of the barn, and Evelina hears footsteps from inside - but thankfully none so frantic as the quickling's would be!
Freyja opens the barn door and, still singing moves in, seeking some cover.
Martok stepped through the open door and started chanting. A fiery whip appeared next to the quickling and started lashing at the fey.
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HP 49/49
AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 14
Conditions: n/a
Melee (+1 spear): +4 = +1(magic) +3(base)
Melee Damage (+1 spear): 1d8+1, x2
5/5 mythic pool, 4/4 touch of flame, 0/2 channel energy
Spell used: firebreath, spiritual weapon
Evelina leapt through the window and ran straight for the twigjack. "Hey! Leave him alone, you jerks!"
Maddy storms into the barn with her greatsword at the ready and charges towards the twigjack to help Evelina and finish what was started.
Matt had his spell ready to cast. As Maddy made room for him, he stepped inside the doors, made sure she was clear of his line of sight, and threw the ball he'd made at the quickling. In mere moments the ball of fire was rolling at the quickling. It wasn't until it was out of his hands that he wondered at the wisdom of starting a fire in a barn.
Freyja's song buoys everyone with courage, and Martok's conjured whip materializes next to the quickling, though the quickling ducks away far too quickly to be struck by it. Evelina and Madison together make quick work of the twigjack before it even has a chance to move toward the window; by the time they're finished, Tindlecrick is little more than a scattering of splinters. Matthew's sphere of fire hurtles across the floor, setting hay alight as it goes - as it comes to a stop atop the quickling, its path is already in flames, smoke beginning to rise!
Turning in time to see the fire hurtling forward, the quickling acts instantly, abandoning the target of her ire and running from the flames. With Evelina and Madison dangerously close to the south window, the quickling elects to dash for the north window, putting the fire between herself and the menacing women as she yanks at the shutters to open them.
Martok moved dangerously close to the fire and it was exhilarating. he watched as the fire lash once more struck out at the fey but knew that it would not be enough to stop it.
He tried to keep the fast fey in check before it left and they could no longer give chase.
He sent out a grey cloud that hovered over the quickling's head and lulled it to sleep.
------------
HP 49/49
AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 14
Conditions: n/a
Melee (+1 spear): +4 = +1(magic) +3(base)
Melee Damage (+1 spear): 1d8+1, x2
5/5 mythic pool, 4/4 touch of flame, 0/2 channel energy
Spell used: firebreath, spiritual weapon
Cithembi, a bit slow to react this time, notices the quickling heading for the north window and sprints along the top of the snow to block its line of retreat.
Freyja moves into the room, avoiding the fire and casts Open/Close to re-close the window. Not so fast Fey.
Seeing the potential for an inferno, Matt quickly dismissed his spell. He wasn't going to catch the too-fast quickling with it anyway. He'd have to hope that his companions could take care of the fast fey.
Hoping to undo some of the damage he'd done, Matt raised his arms to the roof, his fingers wiggling in a motion that imitated rain, he then swept his arms back and then pushed them at the fire. "Hiycmoaaura naush!" A wave of water rolled over the burning straw and hay, dousing it.
As soon as Freyja opens the windom, Evelina runs and leaps through it. Landing in the snow, she rolls forward and back onto her feet, before running after the Quickling
"We ain't done with you!" she shouts, as tries to stab the creature once more.
Swooping in wildly, she focused herself and tries to strike again.
Maddy knows she isn't as fast as the quickling but she also knew that it would take a bit to open the shutters. Therefore, she resolutely moves towards the window, crossing the path of the fire, with her weapon to hopefully make a quick end to the fey.
Seeing Maddy in position Freyja calls out Strike again!
Zzababa: 36/36, -12 = 24/36
Martok attempts to call a miasma of drowsiness over the quickling, but as the cloud envelops her she lets out a scream of frustration, and the force of it wafts the ethereal vapors away. Cithembi dashes across the snow to cut off the quickling's path, and Freyja goes the more direct route by using her magic to slam the shutters closed so hard that the wall rattles. Matthew waves his hand, and his fiery sphere disappears in a puff of sparks; quickly he racks his brain for a watery counterpart, hoping he's not too late to stop the fire. Meanwhile, Madison and Evelina charge forward, looking to take out the fey. But the quickling proves too difficult a target - Evelina's rapier twices stabs into empty air, and while Madison's initial attack strikes true, the burst of energy from Freyja's call is wasted on an overhead swing that digs into the wood a foot from where the fey stands.
Upon seeing herself surrounded, the quickling screeches once again in frustration, then jerks as if to make a dash past Madison to the left. Madison lunges for the fey's path - and the quickling pulls back from her feint, furiously cursing as she tries to take Madison by surprise. Zzababa-won't-let-dirty-humans-win! But in her furor, she exchanges skill for rage - her short sword glances off of Madison's coat and becomes tangled in one of the pockets, and she has to wrench it free with a hard tug.
Cithembi, now shut off from the battle, simply holds position in case he's needed.
A determined look on her face Freyja strides towards the quickling. As she does her longsword begins to glow with a golden light. He song changes pace and she sings of avenging the wrongs or evil and malicious fey.
"Gah! Jus' shut up an' stay still wouldja?" Evelina shouts back at the creature, as she thrust her rapier forward, anger focusing her accuracy.
"This isn't about winning," Madison growled as she took another swipe at the quickling with her greatsword.
But it was getting crowded near the fey and Maddy had to sacrifice accuracy so that she didn't hit any of the others, causing her to miss.
With everyone paying attention to the evil quickling, Martok went towards the faun-boy.
He kept his distance, not wanting to startle him, "Are you OK? Were they hurting you?"
Freyja and Evelina's attacks strike home, and the quickling crumbles with a last scream of pain and rage, her flickering outline finally going still.
The fire started by Matthew's spell begins to lick across the floor, reaching for more hay and dried dung to consume. Marshaling his concentration, Matthew unleashes a torrent of water over the flames; the water alone douses most of the conflagration, and the force of its push scatters the potential fuel far enough that the cinders that remain have nothing left to set alight.
Martok goes over to the faun and asks after his welfare, but as he draws closer he realizes Garen is unconscious, sagging against bonds that tether his wrists to the nearby stall partition. Across his back are a series of welts oozing with blood, and next to him a small whip lies in the hay, discarded for more lethal weapons when the threat emerged.
Cithembi comes over and examines the faun. Frowning at the cruelty he had suffered, waves his hand and then reaches out to touch him, healing silver light glowing on his hand.
Sheathing her rapier, Evelina runs over to Martok and Cithembi. "Is he gonna be alright?" she asks worriedly.
Maddy keeps watch over the others as they attend to Garen. "We need to get him home to his mother. That will be best for him and for her."
Satisfied that things are safe for now, she sheaths her greatsword. "I can carry him if he's still unconscious."
As the others tended to the faun, Matt took a look at the dead fey, wondering if they were carrying anything worthwhile.
Freyja, wondering how long the fey had inhabited the barn conducts a search the building, detecting magic as she does so.
At Cithembi's spell, the welts and cuts on the faun's back close and he begins to stir. Standing to relieve the tension on his bound wrists, he glances around wildly for a moment before his confused gaze falls on the party. Oh...oh, Many and Three, you stopped them! Wait - Mother! Did they - did you see - oh, gods, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
Matthew sees only battered weapons in the hands of the dead fey, but beneath a heap of hay in the back corner of the barn, Freyja spots an aura that flickers and undulates of its own accord. Digging in, she finds a wood box whose lid is inlaid with a scrimshaw of a faerie bacchanal. Opening it, she finds a collection of jeweled brooches and pendants (favoring cameos carved from agate and onyx) as well as a few handfuls of coins. One of the stones, a blue quartz crystal with a five-pointed star etched into its face, is the source of the magic aura she'd sensed.
- a pine box decorated with scrimshaw worth 20 gp
- 360 gp worth of various jewelry
- 68 gp, 430 sp, 900 cp
- a normal western star ioun stone
"Peace, friend," Cithembi says, smiling soothingly at the faun. "We spoke to her, and it is to save you we came, Garen."
Evelina looked at the young faun with sympathetic eyes. "What were they doing? Why were they hurting you?
Maddy begins to move towards the door, "We should get Garen back to his mother. She was worried sick and the longer we wait, the worse things she'll be imagining."
"Garen, can you walk or do you need help?"
Martok agreed, "If we're done searching here then let's just leave and reunite the boy with his mother."
No, I...I'm fine, thanks to your magic, friend. Just unbind my wrists, and I'll manage. Once the faun's bonds are cut, he rises to his feet, still wincing slightly. Zzababa and Faernip were always...eccentric, compared to your kind, but they took me in. They took me in, and I betrayed them. But I couldn't just let - His voice catches and his tail twitches anxiously, and after a moment he continues. Mother has two more children, they said. And a husband. Whoever's to blame for me being turned out, it isn't them. They're kids. They didn't deserve it. Shame darkens his eyes still further. I told Faernip and Zzababa to stop...even if part of me relished the thought of someone fighting for my sake...
----------
As the group returns to Maret's cottage, Garenn rubs at his hands vigorously - both from worry and from an attempt to massage some feeling back into them. One shutter is opened a sliver, with one of Nadya's arrowheads just visible in the gap. A few moments after the cabin comes into sight, you hear a loud gasp; an instant later, the door clatters open, and Maret rushes through the snow, stopping short as a flurry of emotions swirl around one another in her eyes. It's true, then... she murmurs, taking in her strange son - and the welts still visible in places on his back and shoulders.
Garen, for his part, stands speechless.
You let - she stammers, her eyes inexorably drawn over her shoulder to where her husband's blood still stains the snow, but she holds the rest of this thought back. You...you're here. I never...I never thought I'd see you again.
I...never thought you'd want to, the faun confesses, hooves shuffling nervously in the snow.
And with that, the two apprehensively close the distance, setting the day's troubles aside for just a moment as they melt into a long-awaited embrace, Garen turning his head to the side to keep his horns from troubling Maret. Sobs soon echo off the trees as both mother and son openly weep. The reunion is only interrupted as Jory, taking his mother's place at the open window, calls out, his words full of trepidation. Is...is that my brother?
----------
While Maret's cabin isn't big enough to allow everyone to sleep inside, she invites everyone in for a meal as the darkness gathers, the air full of joy and mourning and anxiety and hope. Maret and Garen glance at each other constantly as they eat bread and cheese, and both overflow with thanks. Maret even offers up a pendant of carved horn, carefully crafted in the shape of pan-pipes; as she takes it up from the shelf it lays on, a lilting tune plays from it. A gift from Garen's father - that was the music I heard when I met him. The song plays at any hand's touch. It's a fine thing - I only wish I had more to offer than a trinket. But you're all welcome to make your camp here for as long as you like, and to come in to make your meals and such. My home is yours.
Cithembi waves off Maret's protestations. "It is not for reward that we do good--at least, I do not. I fight because there is no star that shines more brightly than an honest smile."
As if to prove his point, he gives Jory a wide grin.
Evelina nods and smiles, "We're just glad we got your boy home safe.."
Freyja smiles at the family reunion, happy to help do a good deed. But she is interested in the trinket as well. For my reward, might I simply hear the pipes a time or two. I could not think of depriving you of such a valuable and sentimental gift. The sounds will be gift enough for me.
"The music is pretty. I can see why you were drawn to it, to Garen's father. We couldn't possibly take that from you."
After a restful evening and satisfying meal, Maddy stretches and yawns. To the others she asks, "Do we want to make camp outside or inside the barn?" It was warm inside the cabin which was making Maddy sleepy. She looks forward to getting outside and letting the cold help wake her up because she needs to be alert for helping keep watch.
Turning to Maret she asks, "It's ok if we stay in the barn, right?"
"Garen, were there any other fey other than the three we already fought? I don't want any other possible surprises tonight."
Matt watched the strange family in silence, pondering the lives they'd encountered while in the north, and the bonds of love he'd seen. For a land ruled by a family of ice witches, the hearts of the common people were open and warm. It made him that much more determined to do all that he could to end the witch's evil reign, and not just to revenge what had been done to his sister.
The barn was chilly, but better than outside. They had to avoid the section of soaked and blackened hay - he was still embarrassed about that particular spell choice. When it came time to sleep, he was happy to roll himself up in his blanket and lose himself to his dreams.
The barn's been empty a while - as long as I've been here, at least. I never kept animals beyond a handful of rabbits, so I had no need for it. Shelter to sleep in is most of what it's used for anymore, so you'll be far from the first. It's old, but sound, so it'll keep the wind out. As everyone eats, Maret puts a large kettle, bottom blackened with soot and inside filled with snow, over the fire; by the time dinner is finished, the freezing snow has turned to boiling water. Fill your waterskins with this and they'll keep you warmer while you sleep.
As you leave for the night, the satyr's song echoes through the night.
----------
Garen reported knowing of no other fey in the area, and his words prove accurate, at least for this night. You wake the next morning to thin light struggling inside through the windows and a distant scraping and knocking sound coming from the direction of the house. Investigation reveals Maret, dark circles beneath her eyes and tear stains running down her cheeks, arranging a heap of wood into a long, narrow platform on a section of ground with the snow cleared away down to dirt. Borvald always knew something could happen, she explains simply. He wanted to go to the Boneyard warm. Silently she goes back to assembling the pyre.
Evelina woke up groggy as ever, Uh...I can't wait to get to town...sleep in a real damn bed... she thinks to herself as she forces herself up.
The morning wind is a quick wake up call, as was seeing Maret hard at work building a pyre for her dead husband. Quickly, she jogged over. "Here. Lemme help with that..." she said softly, as she grabbed wood from the heap and began positioning it on the fire, as she woefully contemplated how practiced they were all becoming at funerals.
Wordlessly, Cithembi pitches in to help.