Puzzled, Mr. Whiskers listens a few times. Wait, is that how it is pronounced? Having only read it, I never realized that!
After a few repetitions, Mr. Whiskers says "I think they are speaking Russian...one of the languages I only came across in the hut's library."
He then proceeded to translate it for the others.
"We need to help them...they look like they haven't eaten properly in...well, much too long!"
---
When the trap is explained, Mr. Whiskers reaches into his pack and brings out some earplugs. "These plus purify food? I can't cast that spell, but others can."
"Baba-yaga ne khochet nas. Na etoy proklyatoy zemle net mesta dlya nas. Bol'she zhit' nel'zya." They stare blankly at Einar and the proferred food.
Baba yaga doesn't want us. There is no where on this cursed earth left for us. There is nothing more to live for.
"Nam nichego ne nuzhno. Kazhdyy smertnyy govorit, chto oni ne veryat v feyri, odin iz nas umirayet. My poprosili Babu Yagu prinyat' nas i poobeshchali sluzhit' yey iskrenne. Ona posadila nas v tyur'mu i ostavila umirat'." They answer.
There is nothing for us. Everytime a mortal says they don't believe in faeries, one of us dies. We asked Baba Yaga to take us in and promised to serve her faithfully. She imprisoned us here and left us to die.
"Ona poshla k yeye pokinutomu synu posle togo, kak on zayavil, chto raskryl zagovor protiv neye, i my ne videli yeye s tekh por. "They reply.
She went to see her forsaken son who claimed to have uncovered a plot against her and we have not seen her since.
"Malen'kiy Otik vsegda goloden. Kukla Vasilly sluzhit yey vechnym nakazaniyem za pomoshch' Vasile. Sama smert' okhranyayet vorota." They mutter distractedly in a sing-song voice, and make no attempt to leave their cages even after Einar opens the door.
Little Otik is always hungry. Vasilla's doll serves her eternal punishment for helping Vasilla. Death itself guards the gate.
Thick vines and tendrils of ivy twist and writhe over every surface of this overgrown cottage room. The room is furnished with cluttered tables and stuffed cabinets, but with ivy writhing through every nook. More disturbingly, the vines support dozens of withered humanoid and animal corpses, their desiccated forms sucked dry of all life and vitality.
There is an obese filthy creature resembles a huge, wide-mouthed fat child made from leaves, vines, tree bark, dirt, and pallid tubers, accompanied by 4 gnarled vines, as thick as a man's arm and bearing hand-shaped leaves, like a king in his throne room, attended by his courtiers.
Besides the fireplace the party came from, there are two exits from the room, one blocked by the obese, filthy creature, an open doorway filled with vines, and the second a worn, upright travel trunk overgrown with vines and filled with dirty clothing and rags in the southern portion of the room.
Mr Whiskers recognizes the vines as advanced assasin vines. The large guy, no idea.
The obese filthy creature begins to speak, "YA malen'kiy Otik. Kto vy i chto vy zdes' delayete?"
I am little Otik. Who are you and what are you doing here?
Crummock nods respectfully to the creature.
" Кромм. Мы здесь, чтобы найти Бабу Ягу. Ее держат в плену, и она вызвала всадников."
It looks at Crummock, while salivating, and licking its barky lips. "Da, da. YA tozhe khochu vernut' svoyu mamu. Ona kormit menya takimi vkusnymi ..." It also gives Crummock a calculative look.
yes, yes. I want my Mother back too. She feeds me such delicioussss...
Crummock and Mr Whiskers realize that if they don't feed Little Otik soon, they could end up next on the menu!
"Это должно быть то, чего вы никогда не ели раньше..."
So saying, Crummock pulls out Yrax's head (which he has been casting Purify Food and Drink on every morning to keep it 'fresh'), and tosses it to Little Otik.
"Не хотите ли свежую воду?"
He then turns to the others.
"We should probably keep moving..."
As Little Otik falls voraciously upon Yrax's head, between gulps he says, "Da, i ty sil'no otlichayesh'sya ot moikh shib. U menya yest' mladshaya sestra, koroleva s ledyanym serdtsem. Ona dala tolstyy vkusnyy kozel svoyemu mladshemu bratu, chernoborodomu monakhu. No ona nichego mne ne dala!!"Before long, he has gobbled down the head, and starts yelling, "Bol'she! Bol'she!"
Yes and you are very different from my sibilings. I have a youunger sister who is a queen with a heart of ice. She gave a fat tasty goat to her little brother, a black-bearded monk. But she didn't give me anything!
More! More!
Then he starts salivating at the party again, while looking at them greediy.
As the party starts squeezing into the wardrobe, they hear Little Otik pouting and throwing a tantrum behind them. "Day mne bol'she yedy, ponyal? Dayte mne yeshche ili ya s"yem vsekh vas!"
Give me more food, you get it? Give me more food or I'll eat you up!
As the party comes out of the filthy wardrobe, they see a single candle atop a wooden table to the northeast illuminating this cluttered hexagonal room, though a hint of sunlight kisses the sill of a single window on the western wall from beneath heavy curtains. The only sound is the creaking of loose floorboards and the groan of aged walls. A single door, tightly barred with a hammered iron bar and a stout lock, stands in the eastern walls.
The furnishings in this room are nothing more than the accumulated clutter common to any such rustic hut: hanging cured ham hocks, filthy dishes a stove, disused farming implements and long-dry clothing hanging from lines stretched across the chamber. There is a fireplace in the southwestern walls, that looks like it could be crawled into , that leads somewhere else.
Einar, Crummock, and Seraphine all realize that their shadows are missing, and distorted shadows are coming to life!
Mr Whiskers recognizes them as advanced shadow demons, and yes, they are incorporeal.
Each of the shadow demons attack the person that it "manifested" form.
Being crowded on all sides, Mr. Whiskers attempts to cast haste defensively.
Crummock frowns.
"Na na wnewch hyn, byddwch yn ychydig o cachu! Dyro i mi yn ôl fy cysgod!"
He then (defensively) casts a spell.
Meanwhile, Geist attempts to help Greta.
The shadow demon refuses to budge! Geist's claws barely harm the shadow demon, despite being able to claw through its insubstantial nature.
Greta stabs at Geist's shadow demon.
She doesn't manage to hit the shadow demon, for the other strikes.
Einar's longsword, however, is fully effective and weakens the demon greatly.
Seraphine takes full withdraw action and sits behind Einar.
Suddenly, they all rise up, and make a mad dash, with 3 of them ducking around Greta, supernaturally quickly, into the fireplace.
Einar cuts into his shadow demon, hard, and it looks like it's just a sliver left.
Greta manages to stab two shadow demons as they go past her, but is unable to stun them.
Crummock stabs into another as well, but is unable to stop them.
Then they are gone.
A small chest in the room contains six potions of cure serious wounds and 2500 gold pieces.
'Well, that disnae bode well..."
With a reluctant sigh, Crummock heads through the door.
Flickering flames peer from the hollow eyes of hundreds of skulls piled in this dark chamber. A doll lies crucified on a wooden table against the east wall of the room, pinned there with four crooked, rusty nails; its dress is torn and its delicate frame marred by hundreds of tiny cuts and burns. Einar sees the crucified doll limply straining at its bonds before again falling still.
Einar knows that pulling out any nails that pin the doll down will trigger a firestorm trap. But it's easy enough to disable this trap, just tinker a little with those skulls.
After Einar manages to pry the iron bar out and pick the lock, the party walks into another room, with a weird feeling in their stomach as if they have just been teleported.
Flickering flames peer from the hollow eyes of hundreds of skulls piled in this dark chamber. A doll lies crucified on a wooden table against the east wall of the room, pinned there with four crooked, rusty nails; its dress is torn and its delicate frame marred by hundreds of tiny cuts and burns. Crummock, Einar and Seraphine see the crucified doll limply straining at its bonds before again falling still. The skulls mutter to themselves. "Vasilisa... Vasilisa...”
Crummock, Einar and Seraphine know that pulling out any nails that pin the doll down will trigger a firestorm trap. But it's easy enough to disable this trap, just tinker a little with those skulls.
Mr Whiskers recognizes the doll as a soulbound doll. This one needs to be fed to be animated.
There are 3 exits to the room. One is the way the party came from, another via a lit fireplace, and yet another, by climbing into one of the coffins.
The party is still shadowless, after their shadows have been stolen away.
Watching the shadow demons flee, Mr. Whiskers asks "Will the house spirits be alright? I hope the demons aren't attacking them now."
I wonder why the demons fled, and if this just means we will have to deal with them again later.
---
"The doll has a soul in it, remember? Someone evidently thought just creating the doll wasn't punishment enough."
Pondering for a moment, he looks to Greta. "You've spent as much or more time than I in the library. Do you think we could find anything about Vasilisa in there?"
In answer to Einar's question, he says "They would work as manacles. The doll's mind is different enough that the enchantments to make the wearer compliant would have no effect on it."
Mr Whiskers does not manage to punch any shadow demons.
Mr Whiskers can't remember anything, but Greta does.
"Why yes, I do remember reading a tale about Vasilla. Apparently she got the better of Baba Yaga with the help of her doll, and married a rich Tsar after. I believe it was one of those Russian folk tales." Greta replies to Mr Whiskers query. "Also that that doll was given to Vasilla on her mother's death, and her mother said she would always watch over her..."
Nodding, he then says "It sounds like we should release the doll!"
Crummock frowns.
"It sounds like we should destroy the doll..."
"How about we talk with it before destroying it?" he says.
"I'm sure we don't have complete information, but it almost sounded like the mother created the doll to protect her child."
Looking to Einar, Mr. Whiskers says "I was wondering something like that as as well. If the mother did put her soul into the doll, it sounds like it was in order to protect her daughter."
Thinking a moment, Mr. Whiskers then says "Let me see what I can determine about the doll."
He then stares at the doll and starts reciting what he can see.
"Possible," Greta answers. "The creation of a soulbound doll requires the deceased creature die at some point of creation. Again the story held that Vasilla's mother was very sick..."
"And if the transfer was done...lets say, hastily, most of the individuality of the soul in question would be gone."
"Given it's powers, it seems more like a protector than a danger to others. I say we release it and try to talk to it."