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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight looks at the area that Coramus is talking about. He searches very carefully for a trap of any kind
"Boss... stand back. Me gonna unboom the trap."
If it is a magical trap, he will try to disarm it.
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"Eefie, me will help you shoulder burden, if me can. Me will always be by you, 'cause me your friend." It is obvious to all in the room how important that statement is to the little fellow, Coramus especially.
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"Thank you so much, Mr. Kuragin," she says, stretching her limbs and allowing herself to realize there was no longer the sickening clutch corrupting her bones. "I feel so much better..." She finished her sentence by lunging forward and hugging her friend, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him or how he might struggle.
Aoife next takes her father's gauntlets back from Ishbaad, the worn leather feeling odd against her skin. She had been going through all of this to find her father, but at that moment, as she thought about it, she realized these were mere words that filled her mind. Finding her father was a mantra that had kept her going, always repeating, driving her forward. Yet even now, though the child knew she hadn't in anyway forgotten her father, she still could not easily picture his face in her mind's eye. Between her and Tighearnán there was a haze, a veil separating the two in more than distance alone. It felt to her, with a pang of sadness, like the fading of sentiment, as if she were growing up and realizing the currency of her relationship with her father was not exactly devalued, but nor did it exchanged for what it once had.
Uncle Ishy had been there for her and had carried her so far. From her home they had started traveling, now so far distant in miles and in her mind, to this very spot. And he was right, she could look around at what they had accomplished together. The child turned then, observing the cleared and barren room surrounding on all sides, and allowing herself to take in the full weight of their accomplishments. Like always, Ishbaad and the others were right, they had prevailed and done something truly great here.
Turning more to take in sight of the others, a new thought occurred to Aoife and its sudden formation in her mind brought her wholly back from brink of despair. It was true, she missed her father more than anything, and wanted desperately to find him, but then she realized what surrounded her at this moment gave the child what she did not think possible... contentment. Aoife was surrounded by a family, strange and odd as it may be, but was hers. It was a family that she was at long last beginning to feel a part of.
Uncle Ishy's place, she knew without question, he had brought her so far and always made her feel safe. Kuragin, for all of his dark and brooding thoughts, and though his very glance could still set her affright, was almost motherly in caring for her and removing a sickness she thought might in fact send her the grave... and for this, she would always be grateful. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, her precious and adorable, even magical friend, was the wild and untamable younger brother she never had, and one that she needed to always help keep an eye on. Jorvik, of course, always stoic, wracked by self doubt, yet showed limitless promise, was her protective older brother, their unbreakable connection and friendship cemented in the child's heart forever. Coramus was her uncle, though a bit odd and somehow always managed the impressive knack for saying peculiar comments that she could not place the meaning of (though somehow she knew such comments would not be appropriate for her), was loving, friendly and warm to her younger brother and though he did not flaunt it, it was clear Uncle Coramus was smarter than the rest of their family put together.
Now that Coramus has shown that the magic that caused the tendrils to attack the dead body of Radosek, Ishbaad strides into the room. While tenative on the inside, and bracing for something to assault him either mentally or physically, he shows no such sign on the outside, displaying complete confidence in his companion's assessment of the room.
Once inside, he waves the others in and smashes every mirror he can see. With that complete, he begins a deliberate search of the room for anything of significance.
Perhaps we can find something in here that will help us on our fight against the baroness, and elvanna herself. It seems all signs point to the next step of our journey being in Whitethrone. And I will stick out like a mountain on the grassy plains.
"Coramus, what can you tell me about this glow here? The one behind the curtain, in that odd spot on the floor. Perhaps it is another ward? Oh, I see Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is already working on it."
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight opens the curtain, revealing the room beyond. Past the warded area is a door composed entirely of ice. It is locked, but ice is not hard to break. Jorvik comes in with his hammer and with a massive blow, cracks appear throughout the door. His second blow sends massive chunks of ice flying all over the floor. The door is no more.
Several crates, urns, decanters, and storage boxes fill this small room. A mirrored vanity and chair sit next to the east window. An ice statue of a tall, imperious woman stands in the center of the room.
The statue, the companions realize, is of Nazhena Vasilliovna herself. It is about the same size and shape as the statue in Waldsby. It cannot be a coincidence - most likely, the Baroness wishes to tear down the statue on the town square and replace it with this one.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight nearly faints when he sees the treasures in this room, but his excitement keeps him conscious. He though the had some decent piles before! The excited goblin and his companions rummage through chests and boxes, finding it hard to be patient enough to search for traps before each container is opened. Luckily, the witch tended to an over-reliance on magic and the cursed glyph and ice door were the last of her defenses.
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"Me want headband! Best thing EVER! Me make more better bombs! Make more better extracts! Me be most power goblin in the world!" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is practically quivering when he says this, not quite realizing that two others in the group could use it at least as well as he could.
"When me can make more drinks, me will make drink to make me understand what magic is" , "And then me will know what it is. Maybe me should always have one of those from now on. Hmm... me think me can do that if I have headband!"
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight pulls out his extract and diligently and excitedly pours over the item. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he realizes what the item is.
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When Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight realizes what he has, his eyes grow HUGE! He looks around the room, and starts caressing the ring that he has placed on his finger.
"Me find it! Me find it! Me HAVE it!" he sings, as he starts dancing.
Then he realizes something. It is probably the most powerful item any goblin has ever had. He can be a real hero with this! No one can kill him. No one can really ever hurt him, not for real. He is finally safe in this world.
When the others look his way, he says. "Oh, it nothing. Just minor trinket Frostfur Goblins look for... we look for centuries. It nothing special."
Coramus, very wise to the little goblins ways, is surprised to see that he would lie to his friends. "Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, what is it? We know you are lying, that it is a powerful item."
"No boss. Me tell truth. Me good goblin, me always tell truth."
"Please don't make it worse, Do you really want to disappoint your friend, Aoife? She almost died yesterday... as did we all. Why would you do this to us?"
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's ears droop. "Me sorry, boss... me get too excited. It is a ring of regeneration. It very powerful... heal any wound you take if you wear it. Me wish me could have it. Me give everything to team if me can have it. Please?"
Rummaging through the items left behind, Jorvik's eyes winded in surprise. He knew Ice was a trustworthy companion, and a credit to his race. But to lie. To us. About something that can end all this. It was almost too much to bear. He waits with baited breath for Cormaus to address the goblin. To really admonish him.
He exchanged looks with Kurigan. He began to speak quickly in Skald.
"Тем не менее вы и я старый друг. Независимо от того, что мы пережили, только ты и я не можем доверять друг другу. Что бы ни случилось, хотя, девушка остается целым и невредимым. Это я заявляю, чтобы быть правдой, и не можем мы не должны обсуждать, если что истина нарушается."
Finding the breatplate, he walks it over to Ishbaad and Aofie. "I have one like this, but not made so fine. If I can have this, I will give you mine. It functions much the same but is heavier and not as well made, but magical. Though Ishbaad you have given my such a fine gift, if you want this for you or Aofie I will acquiesce. You have but only to say the word. It also seems that we have extra protective cloaks, and some more rings and amulets that will protect us in combat." Jorvik glowers at the goblin as if you say, This is how it is done.
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As Jorvik speaks quickly in a language she does not understand, the child looks quizzically onward at her friend. After the words are spoke she maintains her gaze on the half-elf and watches as he approaches, bringing a brilliant piece of armor to her guardian. The gleaming pile of treasure now catches her eye, and she takes a moment to stuff her father's gauntlets into her bag in order to free her nimble little hands to sift through the gathered baubles. As she digs through the backpack, tucking the gloves away, she sees a tattered harrow card, the Queen Mother, shift to the top of the pile.
"We missed you today, Nazhena," Aoife says aloud, looking at the image on the card and drawing it up. A moment later she has replaced the backpack over her shoulder. "I wonder if there is a mirror still standing, so I can show the baroness her fortune." Aoife holds the the harrow card up for the others to see.
After turning and not being able to find another mirror, she takes one last look at the card before addressing the others.
"I don't mind taking what is left over," Aoife says, smiling at Icy and his new trinket.
"You are entitled to your revenge, Hatch. If we must gain some information from him, I know there is magic that reaches out for souls that have left the land of the living, and forces them to talk." But Kuragin does not the spell in question, so having live Radovik might have been easier way. But what is done is done, he does not reprimand Hatch for his actions.
"Oh, these items. Odd, I had almost forgotten about them. Thank you." the Jadwiga takes the mask and the lock of hair from the domovoi. And to try to answer Ishbaad's inquiry, he casts Detect Magic to see if he can learn anything about the items.
Kuragin gives Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's hand a light slap just as the goblin is reaching out for the Headband of Vast Intelligence. "Not so fast, friend. I also happen to desire this headband. It happens to greatly enhance my witching powers and spellcasting. I know your fingers are fast and a great deal of our findings disappear into your bags. And for the most part, I just don't care if you do. But this headband is different story" With firm speech he sets a claim for the headband. But as he does that, he makes a quick glance towards Coramus. What he knows of the old man is his abilities, he believes he would covet the same treasure as well. But let the old man speak for himself if he wants the treasure.
Kuragin rubs his temples and shakes his head when he witnesses Coramus pressing hard to make Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight to reveal what he has learned about the ring. Didn't I just told the goblin off for his lust to take everything we find... Best be wary around the goblin, even if the poor creature seems to fighting very hard against his nature.
He looks back at Jorvik, nodding and answering with their native tongue. He knows moments like this strengthens their built-in wariness towards outsiders.
"Согласовано. Мы северян, родственные души среди этих других - эти люди юге. Они будут узнаете способы севере, я уверен. Но до тех пор, пока вы смотреть мою спину, и я смотрю твои."
Agreed, friend Jorvik. We are northerns, kindred souls among these other - these people of south. They will will learn the ways of the north, I am sure. But until then, you watch my back, and I watch yours.
Sky deposits a fresh powder of snow over the battlefield as Nadya makes a count of the dead. Four, only four... and yet... too many. The red headed woman is the last up the ice teleporter. "A gathering within the hall, take one, take us all," she says and immediately disappears, reappearing in the dining hall.
A sad, but hopeful scene greats her. Thanks to Rolf Halzberg, everyone is stable. No more shall die. Just over a dozen of her townsfolk are here. Most are still conscious, but some are in dire need of healing. All, however, are warm enough that frostbite is not going to be a problem.
When the heroes return down the ice teleporter, carrying a veritable horde of treasure, Nadya's eyes go wide.
"So, tell me friends... were you as successful as we were?" she tries to smile despite the friendly corpses she knows litter the courtyard, "Are the upper levels secure?"
"Mrs. Nadya!" the child says, running up to the woman. "The tower should be cleared out now." Aofie leans forward and hugs the woman's legs. "Radosek is no more."
"But..." she says, sounding almost ashamed to be delivering bad news. "Lady Nazhena Vasilliovna was not here."
"The witch still lives."
Nadya returns the hug warmly, wrapping Aoife in her fur-clad arms. "Thank you for coming back to me alive, child," she whispers in Aoife's ear, "I did not fully know until just now how important that was to me." It is a touching scene that would appear to all the world like the reunion of mother and daughter - that is, were it not for the blood staining both Nadya and Aoife's clothing.
"Please remember though, Aoife, I am 'Mrs Petska'. 'Petska' is my husband's name and it would not do to drop it,"[b] Nadya smiles to show that she means only the smallest of rebukes, [b]"But worry not that Lady Vasilliovna was not here. The witch lives, but you too are alive, and there is joy to be found in that," Nadya smiles, seeming not to mind that her vengeance has been denied, or at least put off, "You have struck quite the blow against her, and I suspect will strike one more before the day is done. Tell me, masters Kseniya and Thallon... have you figured out how to close the portal down? Will it be possible?"
Seeing Nadya come through, with the villagers behind, Jorvik laments the number.
Too few. Yet many live. They are from the north. They knew the risks. I would not have had it any other way, and I will make sure their sacrifice was not in vain.
"Nadya, you seem to have come at the most award of times." Jorvik places the beautiful breastplate on the ground. "Yes, we were able to clear the upper levels. I trust you all fared as well in the courtyard? Is there anything that we can do to aid you? I am ashamed to say we have yet to close the portal."
"Thank you, Jorvik," Nadya replies, "Some healing would be very well received. Grigor would want me to ask you to heal the others first, but I can't think of anyone better to have back in action to help with the heavy work - or if fighting should break out again. Heal him first, please." Nadya indicates the big, bearded northman sleeping fitfully on a cot near the fire. His wounds have stained all but the very edges of his bandages a deep crimson color.
"Tell me, have you destroyed all the mirrors upstairs?" Nadya asks almost as an afterthought. It is then that the companions note that all of the mirrors on this level have been smashed and piled into the fireplaces to ruin their reflective surfaces.
Placing his hands on the northman, "Desna, this man has many left to slay. Let his journey not end here."
"Ishbaad, did we destroy those mirror?"
Motioning to some of the villagers, Jorvik hefts his hammer and moves through the Tower, breaking mirrors along the way and throwing them into sacks. "Clean up duty might not be the most glorious, but we need to eradicate as much of the witch as we can. Hopefully those spell casters can figure out how to shut that portal down while we are gone. I want to be there for it"
"It would be good too go back through the tower and ensure we did not miss any." Ishbaad says in response to Jorvik's question.
"I am glad to see you well Nadya. We have much work left to do here, but the tower is secure. "
-Posted with Wayfinder
The wizard gives the goblin a non-committal shrug, indicating he will leave the determination of the ring to the group at large. He gives Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight a pat on the shoulder, though, smiling at the clever goblin. "It surely is an item of magnificent power, my friend. It is not wrong for you to covet such an item. Now, let me see...it looks as though your packs are about to split wide open from the sheer amount of things you are carrying about, my friend. If I can find the right materials, I think I could make something that would lighten your load a bit." It's clear to the goblin that Coramus likely doesn't expect the group to allow him the ring, and this is a consolation prize. Still, it's a magical thing that holds other things! What more could a klepto-goblin want???
Coramus then spends the next bit of time inspecting the portal, seeking the focus that powers the winter portal. He liberally casts the spell to detect magical auras around the tower, keeping an eye out for anything that seemed likely.
"Good to see you alive and well, Nadya." Kuragin nods in acknowledgement of the woman's arrival. "I do believe I know how to close the portal, but I cannot guarantee the success. Maybe together me and Coramus will have the best change for that. How many of your villagers decided to move to Southlands? I will give them some time before starting to close it."
And some hours later Kuragin stands in the summoning circle, discussing of interrupting the magics with Coramus. "Maybe if I stand on this side of the circle, facing here. And you stand that side. And if we time our spellcasting exactly right, we should able to disrupt the link between the portal and Border Wood. You know the spell Snowball, right? Ice magic to fix ice magic..." It is a wild theory, but it might work. Another question is what will happen to them once their spells start drawing the energies from the portal.
"Oh, and one thing before we start." Kuragin ties the legs of Radovik's goat familiar, and carries it downstairs. Just in case their magic expirent goes awry...
"Well, yes, in about two hours would be a good time to have the portal blink out," says Nadya, "It looks like the only threat we need to worry about for now is returning guardsmen. We have the tower gates closed and can set about manning the walls so that we get the jump on whoever arrives. After that... I'm thinking we take this place apart and raze it to the ground. What do you think?"
Nadya turns to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, "Would you be able to help us build a fire big enough that the heat would melt Nazhena's floating ice chamber up there?"
As Nadya speaks with the goblin about fires, Ishbaad turns to Jorvik.
"Apologies for my distraction earlier. Yes, I believe you are correct about the breastplate. While it is indeed magnificent, it is much lighter than the one you carry, and would afford you a measure more flexibility. Take the Mithril, and I will wear this piece that was yours." Ishbaad smiles at Jorvik as they swap equipment.
That tone of voice as he speaks with Kuragin... Is something wrong? Perhaps just the adrenaline of battle wearing off...
Ishbaad overhears talk of razing the tower to the ground.
"Yes, Mrs. Petska" he says winking at Aoife as he uses the formal address. "I do believe razing the tower would be good. The path forward is for you and the village to decide. We still have opportunity to disguise the attack as an Ulfen raid, or something of the like. With luck, we will succeed in destroying Nazhena and supplanting Elvanna, and it will be some time before a new Baroness is placed in the area. By then, hopefully, all thought and memory of this day will be forgotten."
Ishbaad spends some time speaking with the the soldiers, wounded and unhurt. He has had his fair share of battles, both bloody and relatively clean. As he speaks, he hopes his stories and compassion will help the men and women heal from the emotional scars.
"While Coramus and Kuragin shut down the portal, it seems we are just about wrapped up here, correct? Save for the task of knocking this tower down."
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"Me can do it, Boss Nadya! Me can make BLAZING fire, one that make Zarongel proud!"
A task in hand (and a ring of regeneration currently on his finger he sets to the task. Amazingly, he starts recruiting villages to help with the task of placing flammables in the area. "Me need help destroying the ice chamber! Nazhena never come back here if we do good!"
He'll spend the better part of the day making the perfect fire, before setting it all off with a well placed bomb or two.
Jorvik and Kuragin both look at eachother and note that a fire big enough to melt the top structure would also melt the bottom structure. When the companions look at them quizzically, they chip away at the plaster on the walls to reveal that there is nothing but ice beneath.
"The White Witches almost always magically construct their towers from ice," they note. As Jadwiga, they know such things.
Looks like a big enough fire could take it all down. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is going to need more wood...
As he is looking for it, he remembers that there was a small treasure chest at the base of Hestrig's bed that they had yet to check out . The delight and almost godlike feeling bestowed upon Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight from wearing the ring of regeneration almost made him forget the smaller hordes.
Quickly rushing back and picking the well-crafted lock - it takes him over a minute - the little goblin almost squeals in delight at the glittering treasure inside:
"Uhhh.... " mutters one villager in response to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, "Not sure about oil, but there is a lot of wood already chopped down at the lumber mill... want me to get some transport sleds to bring it here?"
He didn't really need the answer... and off he goes with some friends, "Be back in about 5 hours..."
While the villagers have gone off to gather firewood, and Coramus and Kuragin study the portal, Jorvik strides up to Ice. He bends down in front of the goblin. Aofie recognizes Jorvik doing this, as he has done this to her. Yet the look on his face is quite different.
"Ice. You are a good goblin. You saved us many times during our raid on this tower. You have been a great team member, helping all of us out. Ice, you have been a friend to me. Yet this." he places his hand over Ice's wrist, and lifts up his hand so that the ring is visible to all.
"Ice, you tried to hide this, You tried to take this, It is not yours. You cannot have it. It is not mine. I cannot have it. Part of being my friend" he motions to all the companions that are now all looking at them, "our friend, is doing the right thing, even when you don't want to. You have to let all of us decide. I do not know if you didn't know this, which I hope. Or even worse if you know this but don't care, which is vary bad. That goes for everything we find. You have to tell us the truth, and you have to let all of us decide together."
Jorvik puts his finders on Ice's cheek where Kuragin slapped him. "You must excuse Kuragin, for in the north we have little. We fight for much. When things are taken from us, we fight. Ice, out of respect for what you have done for us, and because you do not know, I have stayed my hand. Had you known, we would have a problem. One that might have been decided another way. As a child, things were taken from me. All. The. Time. Because I allowed myself to be weak. Because I was different. Because I was afraid.
Now I am older. And I will not allow you to take things from us. We may decide that you get to keep the ring. But we all will decide that. You cannot take it.
Ice, you are smart. You understand what I am saying. The bag you found. The magic one. I need you to put all the treasure we found in here in that bag. And do not hold back. For I will know. And then Ice, that will not be good."
Jorvik gets back to his feet and walks to Coramus. "What was once acceptable on your travels is no longer true while you travel with Kuragin and I. We will hold you both responsible should Ice steal or attempt to steal from us again. I did not piss myself in a box, fight and bleed to save your life from that plant, for you two to steal from us."
Removing his breastplate, Jorvik hands it over to Ishbaad. Helping the Oread into it, Jorvik speaks. "Once again I am in your debt. You have given me much, and I owe you for that. I must find someone with the skill to enchant this for me. Yours is magical and should provide you much protection. What of the child? What will she do for protection?"
Coramus will attempt to work with Kuragin to figure out how to shut down the Winter Portal, casting such spells as his companion suggests. His mind keeps flashing back to the conversation with the doomed Rider, certain that the group was missing something.
Coramus pats his hands at the air at Jorvik's words, much as an wizened old man might do to attempt to mollify a hot-blooded youth. "My friend, if Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight had attempted to steal this item, he would not be wearing it openly on his finger, I can guarantee that. He did not entrust such a precious item to be callously thrown into a sack, to possibly bounce about, be jostled, perhaps even fall out. What better place for it that on a finger? Tis true, he should have pointed this out, but Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is a good goblin, and a good friend, and he meant no harm nor disrespect, I assure you."
He continues to smile through his white beard until Jorvik stalks off towards Ishbaad, then Coramus gives Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight a long-suffering look. He then reaches out, patting his friend's shoulder before returning to his task of attempting to close the Portal.
I hope the goblin's habits do not create too much bad blood within the group
"Would anyone care to help me persuading a certain goat?" Kuragin asks, trying to change the subject. He himself lacks the social graces for sweet-talk or intimidate. And magics for such tasks don't work too well on goats, however magical this one may be.
Kuragin ties the familiar on a table in the dining hall. Once he is sure the goat is securely pinned, he dabs it with Wand of Cure Light Wounds to bring it back to consciousness.
"Let's have a talk, you and I. Your master is gone, and that will spell an end to your existence as you know it. But you still have Radosek's spells in you, and I would very much like to learn them. And you would probably like to spend the rest of your days in the land of the living. How about we make a trade?"
As Kuragin examines the keys to Baba Yaga's hut, he finds that they do not glow with magic in any way. They are perfectly mundane in all respects - well, as mundane as the lock of hair from a frost giant's beard can possibly be. There seems to be no residual trace of the Black Rider's magic whatsoever.
"Need the wood? Hah! No, that bastard Garthur keeps it with an iron fist," Nadya says in answer to the goblin's concerns, "No, I think Dmitri knows exactly what he's doing. He's going to take the wood by force and wipe the slate clean. With the Pale Tower out of action, Garthur can't enforce the licenses he holds. With no more wood... he's going to have to make nice with every lumberjack in town. As a town with little to offer other than its proximity to wood, that's a lot of lumberjacks. Garthur's going to have to make amends really quick."
While the wood is being gathered, Coramus and Kuragin go up to the top level once more to disable the portal. When all is ready, Coramus conjures a ball of snow from within the circle. The ritual lines and energies flare up and lash at the snowball. It becomes larger and larger. Still more power pours into the white orb. The thing threatens to overwhelm the old man and the Jadwiga and almost does. It is then that Kuragin remembers to disrupt the ritual circle. Quickly, he rubs his boot along the outer edge of the circle. The massive, hard-packed ball of snow and ice rockets off with the massive release of energy and literally blows the roof off the ritual chamber. In a shower of ice, Coramus and Kuragin look around at what they have wrought. The ritual magics have lost their glow, and on the globe representing Golarion, a small light near Heldren winks out.
It takes the rest of the day, and most of the night, but an hour before dawn it is all ready. The wood is piled so high, it is almost up to the second floor. Verana's Sundries has been cleared of all accelerants and other things that might help with the pyre. The companions give up a few of their own flasks of alchemist's fire to push things along and then they step back.
It is indeed a strange sight. The courtyard and outer walls are piled high with wood. From the centre, a spire of ice juts out, almost overwhelmed by the flammable substances that surround it. The ice that seemed so strong and foreboding only hours ago now looks weak and fragile.
A lone snow goblin steps forth from the crowd and approaches the pile of wood.
The goat looks at Kuragin quizzically. It seems to understand, however, "*BLEAT*" is all it says in response.
"Would anyone care to help me persuading a certain goat?"
"I might be able to help," says Nadya, seeing Kuragin struggle with the goat, "What exactly are you trying to achieve?"
As the group gathers, cleans and organizes, Ishbaad realizes that there isn't much more he can do to help. Once the wood arrives he puts his massive strength to use by moving the lumber to strategic places pointed out by the fire master goblin.
In the meantime, Kuragin speaks to the goat, and Ishbaad overhears.
"Could you use a hand, friend?" Ishbaad says as he approaches.
Looking directly at the goat, he continues. "I've ran this goat through once, and it wouldn't be a difficult thing to do again. Hatch, would you mind waving at the friendly goat here to show it what happens when useful creatures see the light? I don't know if you can understand me, goat. And I almost feel foolish for even speaking to you. But there you have it. Two paths, clearly laid out."
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The little goblin is well within his element. He has the villagers stacking wood pretty much everywhere, placing a variety of liquids, waxes, and more than a little bit of magnesium shavings around the stacks. "This is gonna be good!" he giggles, while he manages the construction of an immense bonfire.
"Boss Coramus and Boss Kuragin? What's going to happen when the mirror gates melt? Should we not be close by?"
Before lighting, he waits for the arcanists to give him (the arsonist) an answer.
"That's no way to talk to a goat!" Nadya admonishes Ishbaad, "We'll need to heal it first. The pain will be clouding its mind. It is important that Kuragin do this."
The agitated goat calms significantly as the last of its injuries are healed.
"There, now boy - Valstoi, is it? - of course it is," Nadya scratches him under the chin, "Kuragin didn't mean to attack you, it was just that nasty master of yours that he was after. Radosek made you attack these good people, and that's why they had to defend themselves. See, they're healing you and making it all better... oh, yes, you love the scratching don't you?"
The goat bleats happily at the scratching and presents its side for Nadya to scratch. The ranger indicates for Kuragin to do the same. Initially skittish, Valstoi is soon putty in their hands.
"Now, Valstoi, Kuragin would like to learn some of the spells that you know... would you mind sharing them with him?" Nadya looks the goat straight in the eyes. It initially resists, but...
... eventually gives in. Valstoi steps over to Kuragin's ermine familiar and sits itself down, ready for a good familiar to familiar chat.
"Nadya, If you could spare a moment now that the town's soldiers have been tended to? We have a small pile of items that may just be baubles, but you, Kuragin, and Jorvik stand the best chance of knowing if they are significant in any way. It seems our quest will soon be leading us to Whitethrone. I would like to know if any of this might be helpful in our efforts to blend in."
The Oread blinks once or twice, knowing that no words need to be spoken about the difficulty of that task for him in particular.
"Or perhaps some of these items may have some significance to townsfolk here. I would hate to treat something as a minor bauble to be sold if it had sentimental value to someone else."
Ishbaad hangs his head slightly, properly admonished for his poor efforts in assisting Kuragin.
"My apologies. Why don't I go over here and be more useful with this wood."
Ishbaad begins to walk out to where the piles of wood are being brought up. On the way, he passes by Jorvik.
"I have been thinking about what you said, regarding Aoife's armor. Perhaps we should think about what magical enchantments we can now afford with the wealth of this tower. We may need them if we are indeed heading to Whitethrone. There is a plethora of amulets and rings of protection, I think we would do well to make sure they are well spread out amongst us as best we can, with those of us in the melee perhaps getting preference for those items, just as our arcane might takes preference for the scrolls and elixirs."
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The child helps carry the kindling into the Pale Tower for Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's grand finale to the foreboding structure and its symbolism of the witch's reign over Waldsby. Now, this structure would be razed, it would be a burnt offering to the gods of the south, and against the witches and their reign. Struggling to carry any sizable load, Aoife does her best to be useful when loading the fuel. With her father's gauntlet's removed, she can now feel the raw and unfettered power cease to flow within, as if it had been damned at some outside source beyond herself.
Standing in the snow, some long off distance from the Pale Tower, she watches intently for the cleansing fire to erase Baroness Nazhena Vasilliovna's rule from these lands. The child pulls the heavy coat closer about herself, and winds the thick, fur-inlaid scarf tighter around her neck and face. She waits patiently for her little brother to bring down the witch's rule, deep down she knew this wasn't the end... but it was an end.
Nadya looks to the pile of items that Ishbaad has, "You know, if you want to get into Whitethrone, I have this uncle - well, my husband's uncle - called Ringeirr Malenkov, who... well... he's a smuggler. He's very used to getting things - probably including people - in and out of the city. I can't stay in Waldsby, so if you want me along I can come along to Whitethrone and introduce you to Uncle Ringeirr. He should be able to get you into the city, better than those baubles will. They are too valuable to have belonged to anyone in town, so I wouldn't worry about that. You should sell them, though!"
Nadya looks around at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, Kuragin and Jorvik, "Hmmm. Not sure how much help you'll need getting into the city, exactly. The three of you definitely won't have any issues doing that. Let's see what Uncle Ringeirr says, though... if you want his (and my) help that is.
So... is Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight going to light that fire...?"
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The fire primed and ready, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight moves the group outside the tower. Trails of flammable materiel course throughout the tower, primed and ready for an extravagant display. With help from the stronger members of the team, he removes windows (or cuts holes through the ice walls of the tower) to give himself better access
The little goblin wonders if should enlist Jorvik to help announce the upcoming conflagration, but his fear of the half-elf skald has him turn to his long-time companion and mentor, Coramus. Taking on the role of showman and snake-oil salesman once more Coramus announces the fire, getting all the remaining villages to watch in awe.
At the appropriate moment, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight starts the culmination of several days worth of work, lobbing explosive bombs at certain key points, and fire quickly spreads throughout the tower. Explosions rock the tower, followed by showers of sparks as the pyrotechnics he has seeded through the wood ignite.
Quickly, the heat of the fire starts overwhelming the ice walls of the tower, and huge pillars of steam and flowing rivulets of water join the sparks, smoke and flame.
The fire starts with a spectacular WHOOSH, followed by a series of loud bangs. The alchemical cocktail Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight has thrown together does an amazing job of lighting the wood on fire and blasting through some of the walls in the Pale Tower. After about ten minutes of furious burning, however, doubt begins to creep into the small goblin's mind. The tower still stands. The magic that binds the structure together must be more powerful than he and his companions had thought.
That is when he notices the big, enormous puddle. The magic is indeed powerful, and it is holding the tower together well, but the fire - up to this point - had just been bringing the frozen edifice up to melting point. It is melting! As the fire still blazes, massive chunks of ice break off and sluice down the side of the hill upon which the tower sits... or sat. Most of the walls now are held up by magic alone. Brief glimpses at the foundation reveal that it is all but absent.
Slowly, the magic starts to fade and big sections of wall come down all at once. The aerie falls at last, and the only thing remaining is the ritual chamber and the witches' bedrooms above. Drip by drip, however, the flames begin to prove too much. In a sudden torrent of water, the entire structure collapses and joins the simultaneous blaze and water show beneath.
In just under an hour, the fire is put out by the very structure it was built to destroy... and the Pale Tower is no more.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight!" someone yells.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight!" cheers yet another villager.
Then they all join in.
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Exhaustion finally settling in, not sleeping before the raid, the adrenaline of multiple fights, trying to close the portal, his confrontation with Ice, Jorvik feels tired. The tired where everything hurt. Everything is hard. All you want is sleep. Throwing the last of timbers on the pile, Jorvik nods to Ice.
Was I too harsh? Does he just not know? No matter, what is done is done. Let the little goblin have his moment.
Joining the others, Jorvik places two fingers of each hand in his mouth.
"" he whistles loudly.
Heafoc, circling high overhead began to circle downward, slowly, majestically. Jorvik pulls his leather glove to his elbow. Admiring the supple leather, finely crafted, Heafoc lands on his outstretched arm, claws digging in. "Careful. The fires that Ice will produce will be large, and waft high in the air. Not to mentin the smoke. All will see from miles around. I want you nowhere near there."
Jorvik falls into a cross-legged squat upon the ground. Cold creeping up his legs, but as a son of the north, the cold did not bother him.
I wonder what mother would say? Here I am, having just sacked the tower of a witch. Trying to reinstate Baba Yaga's natural order. Would she be proud, or would she dig her ice dagger deep into my kidneys? What of father? The faceless, nameless elf? Was he the one to gift me the mighty Heafoc? Was it a relation? A friend? A debt owed and re-payed? Or some other mystery? Too many thoughts. Too difficult to decide. Too tired.
With a loud bang, Jorvik turns towards the Tower, flames licking it's sides. Creeping upwards, fighting its natural enemies, water and cold.
Just like they were fighting enemies, deeply entrenched enemies, directly opposed to our quest.
The flames seemed to stop advancing, to halt in their progress, to succumb to the cold and wet, but then the puddle appeared. The tower was weakening. The fire was winning. The heat, unrelenting, was melting the icey backbone of the tower. He glanced at his companions, except Kuragin, all from the south, from the heat. Slowly conquering the north.
I must write this down. All of this. In the morning. So tired.
Even from this distance, and this cold, he could feel the heat radiate from the Tower. His eyes, heavy laden, began to close ever so slightly. His head began to dip. Fight as he may, sleep was winning.
He drifted off to blessed dreamless sleep to the words, " Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight"
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Overwhelmed by his creation, the fire that took down the witch's tower, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight doesn't notice the chanting... not at first.
Slowly, he realizes what they are saying, and in a panic, grabs his pack, and gets ready to run, as he has had to do so many times in the past. then, at the last moment, as he is drinking down his extract to make goblin run real fast, he sees that his friend who he refers to as 'Eefie' chanting with the group.
Then, confused, he catches a glimpse of Jorvik... that stoic half-elf who is so full of anger, who he had wronged more than once. A simple nod... one that spoke volumes... told him that this was different.
He turned around to see the villagers chanting his name, smiles on their faces. They rushed up to him, chanting, hugging, smiling. He didn't know what to make of this. People didn't cheer for Frostfur goblins... they chased them out and threw old shoes at them.
Tears in his eyes and a smile so big that it seemed his face must crack, he allowed them to pick him up... not out of hatred, but out of love. Finally... finally, he was the Hero that he always wanted to be. At this moment, he realized that he had done right... that he was willing to do anything to feel this again.
It is then that Jorvik hear a quiet sobbing. He looks to see Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight curled up on the other side of the fire, he back to the skald. His hand is all bloodied, as he is pulling frantically at the ring that will not come off. When he sees Jorvik looking, he says, "Me tried! Me tried to give it back! But it no come off!" as the sobs take over once more.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight writes the brief note and prepares an envelope, crying all the while. He pulls the ring from his finger to place it in the envelope, only to realize that it is still on his hand. He tries once more, but the ring remains on his digit. No matter how hard he tries, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight cannot seem to give the ring away.