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"Hush!" hisses Pavel, looking around to see if any had noticed Kuragin's open and rather seditious comments, "Not in the open. Sure, we haven't enjoyed her rule - it's been very hard to conduct ourselves as we like - but you're talking about the queen here. I could have you killed on the spot for what you just said! I won't, but do not be so loose with your tongue if you don't want someone else to try."
"Well, I do know that... " Kuragin rolls his eyes and replies with the same hushed voice. "But I have had enough people trying to kill me lately to care too much about that. Well, people, winter wolves, monster, you name it."
But he leaves it at that, and waits until Pavel escorts them into more secure location. There, to his great surprise, he hears the name of his friend mentioned. "Sergei! Here!? But I thought he went through, to Southlands!" Kuragin almost forgets the secrecy, and his astonished words come out much louder than he meant. "Of course I'd like to meet him. Please, tell me where he is!"
But Pavel refuses to give out the information, dodging Kuragin's questions with polite small talk and empty phrases. Kuragin almost pleads and begs, but decides against that - it would not give a very good impression to a potential ally. In the end, in his frustration, he starts walking away from the situation, when Ishbaad whispers the clues into his ear.
The witch regains his composure, and turns back to Pavel. "Ah, Information, for information. A fair trade. Supposedly you want to hear the story of my exile, then? Unfortunately, the tale is rather bland - An misunderstanding leading into severe consequences. You see, I was running with the local Stilyagi in Ledenica. We were frowned upon, but tolerated. Just as everywhere else, I suppose. But there were. Also rumors of Heralds Summer's Return being in the city. And someone decides the odd-behaving young men must have something to do with it. "
"Stani and Mikhael were the first ones... Their families were of no importance, so the Baroness' lackeys didn't even bother to put them on trial. One day they were just executed on the market square. Guilty of Treason... Me and Sergei had families remarkable enough, so Baroness couldn't pull quite same trick on us. But it wouldn't have taken long until they had put up a fake trial, and our bodies would have served as warning to others. Sergei fled first, while I stayed behind, trying to beg help from my family. But since mother would gladly have sacrificed her son, I left the town to hunt the rumor of a magical portal somewhere in Hoarwood. And the rest you already know. "
Kuragin's voice is very droll as he tells the story, being quite bored to even think about it anymore. Once he's finished, he looks at Pavel with a Satisfied? look on his face.
Black rider? I didn't mention that. Is she baiting me? I'll leave that one alone for now.
Aoife creeps across the floor, moving so smoothly that even the aged and cold wooden floorboards make nary a creak. Slowly, she peeks her head around the open door to see what is in the western room.
This large room contains little in the way of furniture other than five beds sized for giants and two large chests. A five- foot-square extrusion runs from floor to ceiling near the southeast corner with a small rectangular access door at its base. A heavy, pervasive musky smell fills the entire room.
The small girl almost lets out a gasp of shock as she sees no fewer than four massive ice trolls chomping down on a ghastly feast in their beds. One has what Aoife is certain is the roasted leg of a human in its hands, the juices running down the troll's arm as it tears at the flesh with its massive teeth.
A fifth troll walks in from what must be the kitchen, holding a tray with a massive, wobbling jelly in the center of it. Inside the gelatinous encasement is an assortment of eyes, ears and various other delicate body parts. "десерт!" the 'waiter' cries.
Meanwhile, outside, the columns remain very still and no-one sees or takes any notice of Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, even with a bomb in hand.
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight tries to get Aoife's attention without saying anything. He is getting concerned that his friend is getting herself into to much danger. Eventually, he makes a small snowball, getting it just right, and then hurls it at her.
As he lets fly, he thinks, 'I hope she doesn't shriek when it hits her...'
"Well, I'm glad that you and Jorvik here were able to reunite and find your way back to Irrisen, even without Sergei," Pavel notes, seeming to be genuine in his sentiment, "I'll have someone send for him."
He leans out, and ignoring Ishbaad calls over one of his retinue, "Go get Sergei. It is time for Kuragin and Jorvik here to meet him."
Pavel turns back to his fellow Stilyagi and smiles, "He should be here within the hour. In the meantime, why don't you tell me exactly how you expect to be able to free the Dancing Hut and overthrow Elvanna!" His tone indicates interest in what they have to say, but that he sincerely doubts they'll be able to convince him of their plan's efficacy.
Aoife grunts softly when the ball hits her, but otherwise makes no noise. She turns to see her goblin friend with snow clearly on his hands. Why he threw the snow ball at her, she isn't quite sure.
Greta slumps into a chair near the bed, deep in thought and still naked. Ishbaad is struck by her complete and utter lack of self-consciousness. Of course, with a body like that, there is very little to be self-conscious about. "Wow. Your plan has all the elements of something that could work," she notes, "And you really do trust your Jadwiga pack mates? They will try to get a group of the nobles on their side?"
She suddenly stands and resumes her pacing, "The Winter Guard are little more than monsters and fickle fey led by a handful of Jadwiga. Unlike most servants, they are motivated by greed rather than fear... well, fear of Logrivich helps also, but the dragon is motivated by pride and his own greed. If you killed him first, all that would be left for the Winter Guard is the promise of wealth. If we took over the city, they soon would change their mind about helping Elvanna. They may abandon their posts... or change sides.... especially if the hut were to be unshackled and taken elsewhere.
"They live longer than humans and know better than most Jadwiga how truly powerful Baba Yaga is. With her hut gone, the promise of her eventual return will at the least create unrest within their ranks.
"Yes... yes... this could work!" she declares, seeming to be surprised by her own declaration.
"But the lynchpin of your whole plan is killing Logrivich," she says severely, "Do that, and the rest will fall into place - assuming you get the required agreements from your Jadwiga allies and the Iron Guard. I will handle the Winter Wolves. Then you just need to worry about getting to the Hut."
Jorvik listens in stoic silence to Kuragin and Pavel talking around him. Here he was, all these years later and nothing had changed. He was still the outcast, the oddball, even in the midst of the fringe of Irrisen society.
No matter, I am a snowcaster elf, born and bred and I will accomplish that which I set out to do.
"Pavel, how does one start anything? Slowly. Carefully. We find ourselves at a crossroads, a tipping point if you will. The more allies we acquire, the better the chance we have for success. Yet the more allies we acquire, the greater the chance that someone goes yellow, or indifferent, and then the whole plan is shot.
"So forgive me if I speak in generalities. We are men of the north and we all share certain common beliefs. Now the new regime has seen fit to alter our normal. To disrupt the natural way of things. We aim to find individuals from all sects of Irrisen life and recruit them to our cause.
"Once we known more about who cares to lend us aid, and what their particular skill set is, the there is only one I know of who can restore rightful order. And you know who I mean.
"There are many obstacles, and many foes to defeat. Yet we have resources to aid us. We just need a fighting chance.
"You are a wise and discreet man, how would you tackle this dilemma? Why would you risk your position? There is much to lose, for all of us."
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When Aoife turns to looks back at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, he starts waving at her, and making motions with his hands from her to him. He mouths, 'We have to go' as well, hoping she can see it. He looks out to the street, making sure no one has seen him yet.
He then mouths, 'EEEFIEE!', points at her, and then points to the street.
Aoife turns with a start, looking back at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight with wild, panicked eyes. She feared something had snuck up on her and was going to drag her away to be yet another terrible dish on the troll's menu. Pointing to the door beside her, the child waits, then raises one hand into the air and proceeds to slowly, one by one, lift each finger until all five digits are held before the goblin. Then Aoife mimes the gait of some lumbering, monstrous creature, slashing at the air before her as if with clawed hands. Now bitting at the air as if with some cavernous maw lined with sharpened teeth. Lastly, pausing once more point toward the door at her side.
Aoife holds up both hands now and acts as if she is pushing a wall of air in the direction of the goblin. She is hoping to signal to him to remain where he is, then she turns and clambers noiselessly across the pristine room toward the single northern door.
After casting a sidelong glance over her shoulder at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, the child tentative turns the knob...
'We have to go'
Aoife tries to discern what the goblin is mouthing, but all she gets is 'weigh half tiger'. Shrugging, the girl moves to the other door and opens as small a crack in it as she can while still peering in. It is dark within so she opens it a little wider to allow light on the situation. The room is just an enclosed stairwell, leading upwards. There are no stairs down.
Suddenly, rough footsteps followed by the shriek of ungreased hinges tells Aoife that one of the trolls is about to leave the room.
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When Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight sees Aoife's response, he gets even more frantic, waving at her, still with a bomb in his hand. He shakes his head vigorously as she goes to the next door, still not knowing what she saw, other than what was probably five monsters.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight will throw his readied bomb at the troll, excluding Aoife from the burst. For now, he doesn't move into the room.
"Jorvik, you have wisdom beyond your years," compliments Pavel, "And more sense than most of our... kind. Simply put, Queen Elvanna's rule is bad for business. She seems not to care that the Market Square is overgrown. Her ridiculous martial law makes it even harder for foreign merchants to trade here, and our thirst for culture is going unquenched."
Pavel looks side to side, as though someone may be listening in, and then leans close, "Not to mention, she is not our queen. The Jadwiga Elvanna are about the least progressive ruling family since... well, since Queen Jadwiga! As far as I am concerned, the Riders have been here - even if they did not make it past Elvanna's lackeys - and her rule is over. We are just waiting for a new queen. May she be more progressive than this one!
"So, bring back Baba Yaga, by all means. However, to get the Queen of Witches back to replace her misbehaving daughter with a new one, you will first need to free her Dancing Hut and somehow send it back to her. I hear that even Elvanna and her brood cannot break into the Hut, though. What hope do you have?"
The child jumps at hearing the sound behind her, knowing the door will open any moment, leaving her exposed and completely visible. Instead of moving even the smallest amount, Aoife freezes in panic. She turns to see Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight waving frantically, and can only stare at the goblin with fear in her eyes. Turning to her right, she looks upon the closed westward door, and takes a step toward it but then hesitates.
In a flash she slinks behind the single northward door, hoping the troll about to leave his supper will go not toward her and not toward Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. Turning away she looks up the staircase, feels a sense of dread about the terrifying dragon that is waiting at the top, then turns back to peer through the small slit.
The ice troll lumbers out, filling the room. It is with a mix of terror and relief that Aoife notes he is unlikely to be able to fit through the door into her hiding spot without squeezing. It is then that she notes the poor workmanship and the relative newness of the wood on the double doors here. They must have been refitted to allow the trolls easy movement on this level. Her own door is made of old, cured pine.
The big creature flings the eastern doors open and they crash into the walls flanking them. From her position where she is, Aoife can see that that room is - at least partially - used as an armory.
Jorvik listens to the reasons Pavel have given him. Seemed superficial and insignificant compared to his noble motivations, but that was Irrisen, was it not? It was time to e a bit more forthcoming to the stilyagi prince.
"Though it is but a dream at this point, should we be able to infiltrate the forest of fey, past the white guard, and slay or drive off Logrivich, I can guarantee that we can get in to Baba Yaga's hut. Of this I am more sure that my name is Jorvik Rybalt!
"We have been gifted, let us say, with powers than only a handful in all of Golarion possess.
"With a dying breath, an oath was given. Binding. Unbreakable. For blood that was shed, payment will be given. What was, will be, once again."
"Yes, I know we will try to convince some of the jadwiga to join our cause. They are Stilyagi, and so about half as predictable as you," Ishbaad flashes her a wink, "but we have already gathered rumors that they are unhappy as well with the current situation. I am confident in my silver-tongued jadwiga pack-mates."
"As far as Baba Yaga's hut, I see you are still worried about us getting in." Ishbaad walks over to the naked, feminine form. "Have I not already proved I can get in to places I should not be able to?" The smile he flashes is snarky, but playful.
"I could tell you my secret, but with it you could undo me, and everything I am here to do." He stops short, waiting to gauge her reaction.
"You are right, and we are thinking exactly the same. Logrivich is the lynch-pin to this whole crazy endeavor. If we kill him, and I know we can, then the dam that Queen Elvanna has built to stop the natural cycle in this frozen place will begin to crumble. With you beside us, we can make that dam collapse.
"The Queen will never find the black rider, because he is no longer in a form she would recognize. I know where the keys to Baba Yaga's hut are, because he gave them to me." Ishbaad pauses for effect, letting the weight of his words sink in.
No going back now. She knows the secret that could kill me. All of us.
"Getting into the hut will actually be the easy part in all of this. However, should the dragon Logrivich kill us, or we are killed before we even reach the hut, then Elvanna will have her prize at last."
"Now if you have the assurances you need from me," Ishbaad steps back towards Greta's bed, "Let's see about assuring you remember me if I dont ever make it out of that hut..."
Aoife and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight both see that the troll is wielding a massive cleaver... and both realize at the same time that it is an actual cleaver, intended for use in the kitchen but definitely sized for a large creature, such as a troll.
"Бака Нан држи њене ножеве оштра, али она нема времена за вежбање наше ножеве! Древни кучко!" the troll yells back at his companions.
"That secret could kill you?!" Greta laughs, amused rather than impressed by what Ishbaad said, "Oh, Holy Being, there is so much more that you have said and done that you could be killed for. But don't worry, the same can be said for me."
The naked wolf-turned-woman stalks her way over to the bead, her eyes twinkling with desire. "You say you have the keys, and I believe you. You say you can get into the Hut and take it away, and I believe you. You say you can slay a dragon... and I'm afraid I will need more proof. Show me you prowess, oh Holy Being who would be dubbed Dragonslayer. Show me and make me believe..."
The child, peering through the crack of the door sill, looks on in horror at the crimson-marred blade with a slightly jagged, chipped edge that the child fears is from being used to severe human bones for a meal. A wide eye sees the goblin, directly across and through the opposite door, and who also seems to be sneakily looking around his own corner.
Letting a sense of calm fall upon her, Aoife steadies her breath and focuses her mind on the possible eventuality that fighting for her life could be what fate has in store, not matter what, she hopes that fate does not have a troll's cook pot in store.
She crouches low, closes the door a fraction more until only the smallest slit is opening before her eye, and she waits and watches. She can only hope the troll will return to his kitchen in a moment's time.
The massive ice troll pauses a little before he goes through to the armory. He sniffs the air as though smelling for the scent of prey.
Almost as soon as he starts, though, the creature shakes his head and wanders into the armory and out of sight. Seconds later, a sharp, regular scraping sound of stone against metal can be heard. Flashes of light cast a flickering and brutally large shadow across the floor of the entryway.
Then, it starts to sing:
"Синг са гласом,
Не лаута и харфа -
Макинг сечиво
Дакле, лепо и оштре!
"Хумие дете,
Хоће ли ускоро бити мртва -
Нож може брзо
Одсећи главу!
"Лево у соби,
Ту сама.
Мој јадни нож
Није прошао кроз кости.
"Шеф Ханг Лоосе
То би могло бити шворц.
Може јој спалити
Са пламена и дима.
"Не тако вришти,
Да гласно и оштар -
Најбоље је имати
Леп чист убиство."
"Sing with voice,
Not lute and harp -
Making blade
So nice and sharp!
"Humie child,
Will soon be dead -
Knife can soon
Chop off her head!
"Left in room,
There all alone.
My poor knife
Not cut through bone.
"Head hang loose
It might be broke.
Can burn her
With flame and smoke.
"Not like screams,
To loud and shrill -
Best to have
A nice clean kill."
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Craning her head toward the thin aperture, little more an a sliver of air between the frame and foor, the rolling, low tones of the troll's singing reaches her ears. Though the words are unknown to her, a shudder runs the length of her spine, propagating a tingling wave to the far reaches of her limbs. Now she shakes slightly, not from the cold so clearly evident by her ghostly breath forming in the air, but in a vain effort to slough off the rising feelings of fear and repulsion.
It was a voice she wished she could cut short with might swing of steel.
As a further clatter resounds from the room beyond the door, echoing off the frozen walls and indecently piercing the natural silence of the still, cold air, Aoife cannot help but turn and peer up the twisting stairs. Turning back toward the cacophonous romp of an ungraceful troll, the child knows she cannot yet run back across the main foyer to join Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight for fear of being seen. At last she takes a step closer to the stairs, feeling the escalating beat of her small, fierce heart.
She mounts the first step slowly, and creeps up the incline in a crab-like posture, all the while grateful her father's precious gauntlets protect her hands from the chilled floor. She doesn't know what she will find ahead, and can't even place the urge within herself pressing to move forward into certain danger, but whatever the reason or driving force, it feels right in this moment.
"The hut is shielded with Baba Yaga's magic. Elvanna may be powerful, but her might in magic is no match to the Queen of Witches. She nor her lackeys cannot enter the hut without the keys" Kuragin says, and almost shivers in the anticipation of gratification of his next words. So with a mysterious smile, he whispers: "And as Jorvik here subtly hints, we happen to have those keys."
Sergei, Sergei... What happened? Why did you not leave, why you stayed behind?
As Aoife moves up the steps of the tower, the sounds of the troll sharpening a cleaver in the next room grow duller and duller, and the grinding of gears from the clock tower above start to come into focus. She finds that she is able to predict the sounds of the metallic inner workings of the clock and time her footfalls to be masked behind them. Unfortunately, the same noise that helps her stay unheard will also hinder Aoife in detecting the approach of any tower resident who decides to use the stairs.
Aoife sees that the door is open, shedding very dim light into the otherwise windowless hallway of the second floor. To troll-fitted doors flank the hall, and a pile of what appears to be crates, barrels and boxes is stacked at the far end of the room. The bold young adventurer can see little else, though, in this light. Just as she considers her next move, a young boy's high-pitched voice can be heard from the far end of the room. A melancholy tune echoes off the walls, singing in the harsh language of the Ulfen, Skald.
"Oh come now Nan and let them play with me, play with me.
I want some friends who just can be like me, be like me.
"Oh, I don't mind... what they look like.
Arms of bone with wool of lamb.
Head of china... stuck on a spike.
Just please make them like I am.
"Oh come now Nan and let them play with me, play with me.
If you need help, I'll make them dead like me, dead like me."
The song sounds as though made up by a child, and is well practiced.
Pavel's eyes widen before narrowing in an effort to catch Kuragin out in a lie. "I believe you," he says after an interminably long pause, "I have no idea how you did it, but I believe that you have. Sergei will explain some more about current politics when he arrives, but I have much to do as well.
"Jorvik, you do not lack for bravery - something my cadre could learn - and if you are successful at slaying Logrivich and absconding with the hut, the city will be left with a power void. The peasants may even get ideas in their heads. We will need to move quickly to restore order. Is the Iron Guard on your side?"
Pavel eventually makes his excuses and leaves the Cocoa pot also, leaving Kuragin alone with his thoughts and a very tasty hot chocolate... oh, and the bill. Five gold is exorbitant for a single beverage, but the price doesn't sting nearly so much now as it does before... still, the retinue were a thirsty lot.
Kuragin is mulling over the sums when he notices someone has taken the seat opposite him. His first thought is to send the man away to leave the seat free for Sergei... and then Kuragin realizes this is Sergei. His friend has clearly been both starved and beaten, but his wounds are beginning to heal. The strange pot-like belly suggests he is trying to add to his bulk again, also.
"Kuragin," Sergei begins, "I thought I'd never see you again. What news?"
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight holds his position for what seems like hours after Aoife disappears - but in reality it is barely more than a minute. A familiar goblin appears next to him, almost shocking him into making a scream.
"What are you doing here?" asks Grindtooth, the minor alchemist he met in the Howlings asks, "We've been trying to figure out how to steal some of Logrivich's treasure horde ever since we heard that dragon moved in to the clocktower. It's no good, though, those statues paste any goblin who enters. We tried a few things, and it seems children can get in! Even without the usual troll or Jadwiga escort."
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's mind immediately goes to Aoife. "So we've got half a plan," Grindtooth grins evilly, "Now we just need to work on how to get the children out. Never seen a single one of 'em again. Kids leave, bones go out. Ever the way. Heh. Well, maybe I saw one of them in the Porcelain District again... creepy little doll looked exactly like a boy I sent in there a while back.
"Well... easy enough to send in more children!" he says at the last, "One day we'll find how to get one out... and then, treasure!"
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight looks back to the stairwell, and to the goblin. He grabs the Grindtooth roughly... "YOU NO BRING NO KIDDIES HERE NO MORE!" he says, with a cold, killing voice, hand on the bomb trembling in anger. "YOU GO! Get goblins! Make ruckus... somewhere... anywhere. But stay away from here!"
He then gulps down an extract of expeditious retreat so that he can run as fast as he can to the Cocoa Pot. Stealth is not a concern, for him, speed it.
When he gets to the Cocoa Pot, he bursts in, running straight for Jorvik and Kuragin. "Bosses! Bosses! You have to come quick! Effie in danger!" He grabs Jorvik's hand, pulling him up. Taking a moment while the others grab their gear, he gulps down an extract of false life
As the team gets closer to the tower, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight will also hand Ishbaad an infusion of Enlarge Person, and will drink his See Invisible extract.
"Come on! Come on! She in danger. Me told her to come out of tower, but she no listen. Statues that move will stay still with Jadwiga or kiddies! Goblins gonna make distraction... ice trolls in tower... we hurry!"
Aoife turns and looks down the winding stair, a feeling within herself swelling with the urge to flee, and yet she cannot take a step in retreat. For a few moments she gazes upon the sheer ice wall covering the open window where glass should have been and wonders if very soon she will be struggling out such an aperture, fleeing for her life. But she suppresses these fears, the fright of the situation overcome by a stronger, more powerful feeling to move forward and press on.
Her feet cross the threshold, drawing her into the darkened hallway as the eerie, disembodied voice calls above the mechanical rhythm infecting this section of the tower. Her mind is cast back the fragile form of Thora made unmistakably vile and twisted as the magics of the porcelain dim took hold, fracturing her delicate skin. There was true fear within Aoife now, knowing the frightening tenacity and immense magics so easily wielded by Thora when she changed from a frightened child to a plaything of war.
As the child nears the doors at the end of the hall, the mechanical utterances all around continuing to blanket the area with dumbfounding noise, Aoife looks upon the pile of trinkets on the opposite side of the thresholds. She also looks to and fro, wondering where the voice is coming from, but, more than anything, hoping to avoid the source.
Aoife looks around, but cannot place the source of the signing just yet. Her own shadow plays across the ground, and if she were to get close enough to see what is singing, she would obscure her only light source. Aoife gets close to the double doors and is fiercely aware that should either open, she would be immediately visible. She makes out a dull smacking sound from the western door above the sound of grinding gears but cannot place it. The aroma wafting from the room, however, is of roasting flesh. A faint flickering light, muted like the flames within an oven, can bee seen at the gap between the door and the floor. No light comes from behind the eastern door.
Grindtooth looks uncertain for a while. He looks down at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlights much bigger and much better made bombs. That seems to make his mind up for him and he nods. "Distraction. Gotcha... boss." The little goblin runs off as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight chugs an extract and speeds off to the Cocoa Pot.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight rushes in yelling instructions at his 'bosses'. However, all he finds is Kuragin talking to a bedraggled Ulfen man.
Unbeknownst to Jorvik and Ishbaad, as they make it to the Iron Barracks, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is speeding past them in the crowd. They knock on the massive brass knocker and await a response. Unusually, a bar slides back to reveal a set of furtive eyes peering out at them.
"The Iron Guard has been stepped down, seek the Winter Guard if you have troubles," the voice says before slamming the slider back into place.
Aoife looks on through the darkness and realizes the shrill voice of the boy is paces ahead of her, its source hidden somewhere amidst the strewn crates and barrels. The faint, subdued dancing light plays upon the floor as it squeezes beneath the door and Aoife unintentionally takes a shuddering step backwards as a maddening thought forms in her mind.
The smell of cooking flesh sets her stomach twisting into knots and the child realizes she has misinterpreted one important detail. The five trolls in their chamber below, reclined and munching on some disgusting feast, she had thought would all remain in that place, because she had assumed the food they were eating was from some adjacent, but unseen, kitchen. The reality of the situation began to crash down upon her with the weight of a crumbling mountain, with the seemingly minuscule addition, yet somehow infinitely worse by comparison, thought that her own stupidly had put her in this place.
The western door before her, sat at the end of the shadowed hallway, was in actuality these beast's kitchen. The troll previously sharpening his blade might be coming up to cut the next hunk off the unfortunate... well, she didn't want to think about what they were dismembering... and that might bring the creature face to face with her.
Slowly backing away, trying to time her steps with the mechanical clatter above, the child moves to return to the stairwell, wanting look down the twisting incline from the second floor to see if anything was on its way up to greet her.
Jorvik listens to the Pavel. "I mean to secure the Iron Guard to my cause. That shall prove challenging, but it can be done. I served there in my youth, and I hope to rekindle that friendship, if I can. Once I have more information, I will send word.
"Pavel, I cannot thank you enough for your support. It is good to be home and to see people that share the same values and beliefs, though we may disagree from time to time, it if the north remains the north."
"Best of luck Kuragin. Come Ishbaad, we have additional errands. No use standing around and wasting the day."
Jorvik walks out the door hoping that Ishbaad has enough sense to follow behind.
They make their way towards the District of ironside. Approaching the massive gate of Iron Barracks, Jorvik is not surprised to meet with some initial resistance. He winks to Ishbaad before exclaiming loudly, "Troubles? Yes I have troubles. You can let that boot licker, know that he has three years of crimes to pay for. Reporting to duty while drunk, failure to don a proper uniform, and buggery!"
Turning back to Ishbaad, "That will get his attention." Jorvik's face is split in a smile of satisfaction.
Ishbaad turns to look at Jorvik after the unceremonious dismissal. He raises his eyebrows, shrugs, and pounds his stony fist on the door again.
"Best be ready to announce yourself before they speak this time." he says by way of suggestion.
The oread stands a little to the left and behind his Jadwiga friend, hands clasps behind his straightened back in a parade rest position.
"I hope your friend remembers you..."
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"Come on, boss!!! Is important. What you want me to tell you!"
He looks quickly to the man that Kuragin was talking to. "Me sorry to interrupt, but me have something me must show boss Jadwiga Kuragin. Me just nasty bootlicker, but Boss will wanna know this!"
The two run to the Iron Barracks, hoping to catch Jorvik there before he cannot be disengaged.
"Boss... Aoife got herself up in the dragon's tower. Me not know what she doing, but me scared she gonna get eaten by trolls! Me cannot get in there without a Jadwiga... but she a kid, so she can get by. Guarded by nasty moving stone statues!"
Aoife moves back to the stairs. Nothing seems to be coming back up. She waits a tense moment and large a shadow passes by the door again as the ice troll moves back to the room where its companions await his return. After it passes, the light from outside remains undisturbed.
Pavel smiles at Jorvik and bids him farewell, not seeming to notice anything amiss in what the skald was telling him.
A little while later, Sergei raises his hands as a goblin takes Kuragin away from him. 'I will wait here for your return, Kuragin," he says, "I have waited long enough. A few hours more will not matter so much. You are picking up the bill, right?"
Unconsciously, Kuragin looks again to the bill in his hand. He notices for the first time that something is written on the back of it:
Do not trust Sergei. He has betrayed his friends before. Perhaps you can find out why... but he is not one to share your secrets with.
- Pavel.
There is silence in the wake of Jorvik's tirade. Ishbaad pounds once, and then twice on the door before it is answered again. This time, the door is opened - not wide, but enough to allow someone through. A man dressed in the livery of the Iron Guard - mail, a thick grey cloak with burgundy trim inlaid with ice diamonds - steps forth.
"That's Prvan the Stalker, Jorvik," he says with a smile on his face, "You remember how hard I was to spot when I was creeping up on you, right? Good to see you again. Not a good time for me or mine... strange that you should show up now. What can I do for you?"
Jorvik thinks perhaps to ask for somewhere private, but he has yet to see somewhere in Whitethrone as deserted as the steps leading up to the barracks of the former city guard.
Before too much can transpire, however, a flustered Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight appears with with Kuragin in tow, talking about Aoife being in the tower alone and animated statues.
- Darkvision.
- DR 5/-.
- Immunity to magic (with transmuting rock/mud, mud/rock & stone/flesh exceptions).
- Attacking one does damage to your weapon (3d6, does not bypass hardness).
- The ability to stand perfectly still, appearing to be nothing more than a statue.
- They have regular construct traits.
"Ho ho, Prvan the Stalker? Was more like Prvan the Streaker! Remember that time when you were too scared to kiss Nayalya and you had to run around that camp site outside the Hoarwood? I thought your dick was going to freeze and fall off. And I clearly remember winning that bet after Liliya took her top off. What a pair of t+@!!
"Seriously though, what has happened Prvan? I may not have been the best soldier, conforming and taking orders and all, but the Iron Guard man! How could it come to this?"
"You say odd timing. It is. We come bearing great news. The time is right. The time to make things right. You and I friend. We are going to do the impossible, and you are the key to it all. You and the Iron Guard will rise once again. We are going to free Baba Yaga, and her hut.
"So, you in? Or is it Prvan the Do Nothing?"
Jorvik ends speaking, finally relaxing his hands. With each point, with each memory, he had begin to gesture fiercely, the blood within him rising.
Just as Jorvik is done speaking, he sees Ice come running up to him, Kuragin in tow.
"What? Aofie? Prvan I have to .... I need to ... you understand olf friend. Commitment. Duty. I will return and we will finish this. Come, Ishbaad."
Jorvik turns to see the oread already running towards the tower, Kuragin scampering behind.
"What did you two do Ice Melts Quietly in the Sunlgiht? How bad is it?"
"Man, Liliya..." Prvan's gaze and mind wander off for quite a while, "Haven't seen her for such a long time... and never saw nearly enough of her when I did!"
Prvan frowns as Ishbaad mentions the Iron Guard, he looks to Ishbaad uncertainly but is assured by Jorvik's trust in the oread. "Well, Queen Elvanna thinks we hold truer to Baba Yaga than we do to her. She's not wrong about that either. Our oaths transcend the current Queen - they need to transcend the current queen. No more so than leading up to the thirteenth year of each century.
"Anyway, I digress," he sighs, "The Iron Guard no longer guards the city. Queen Elvanna has limits, though, it would seem. Not even she has dared to dismiss us completely. She knows full well that the threat of facing a dragon is the only thing keeping us in line, too. Otherwise, she never would have agreed to give that thug Logrivich the clocktower - or to deface it so! It's got three more to spare, but it's an eyesore now."
Jorvik's friend could not possibly look more shocked at his assertions. "Take the Hut and free Baba Yaga? You're mad! How?"
Before Jorvik can answer, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight interrupts and Prvan waves at his departing comrade, making him promise to return soon.
The child stares down the empty stairwell and exhales deeply. As a few more ragged breaths escape from Aoife, she pleads with her racing heart, begging it to calm and tries to will the panic away. Cold air plays across her skin and she shudders slightly, letting the severity and awfulness of this place take hold, allowing the grip of panic only a moment to weigh upon her.
She closes her eyes and breathes.
Opening her eyes again, she concentrates and forces away the fear and doubt, and stares down the stairs at the approach of no one. She then looks up, seeing the twisting stair wind away out of sight to the next level above. Her breath at last returns, steady and rhythmic, just as punctuated and patterned as the strike of the clocktower above. This unhurried cadence brought courage back to her, and Aoife felt she could truly find a way to survive, so long as she was methodic and patient.
With one hand on the railing, Aoife steps up the stairs, climbing to the next level. She knows if there is even a hint of the dragon ahead that she will turn and run, but if she can manage to glimpse anything more which may help her friends, then the child was willing to risk herself to help.
Aoife climbs the flight of steps, which end on a platform. There, a short ladder is mounted to the wall, leading to a closed trap door in the ceiling just above it. A single door is set in the eastern wall - unmodified and unsuitable for trollish passage. The area is otherwise barren except for a column of clockwork gears that rises right through the ceiling above it. An icy draft wafts down from above, and the ticking and ratcheting of the giant clock drowns out any other sound.
The daylight streaming through the frosty windows keeps this area well illuminated... and also exposing anyone walking around on this level.
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Kuragin stares silently at the beaten-up creature, that appears to be Sergei. Many times his mouth opens as to say something, but the words do not come out.
"I... I..." The witch searches for words, but what one say to a friend so badly beaten, in unlikely place. "What happened!? You were going to Southlands. We were supposed to meet in the fabled Oppara. But instead, you are here..."
"...looking like that"
And so am I. Did we both fail in our attempt, old friend? Or were we both pulled here but fates unforeseen?
Perhaps to Kuragin's relief, the awkward attempt for conversation is interrupted by Ice Melts Quielty in Sunlight. His mind is so confused of this new revelation, that he just meekly follows the goblin, not even realizing what he is saying. With Pavel's request, he picks up the bill and tosses some coins to the barista to cover the charge.
And as he leaves, he sees the writing on the other side, and casts a confused look at Pavel before he is pulled out of the door.
Deep in his thoughts, Kuragin's walk is so slow that Ice needs really to drag him all the way. He doesn't really pay any attention on what passes between the goblin and Jorvik, all he hears some frantic explanaining and shouting, and then they are on the move again.
Betrayed? Did Sergei have something to do with what happened in Ledenica?
The four companions gather as the wind picks up and fresh snow begins to fall. Just inside the macabre bone fence lies the clock tower with the missing face, ice trolls, probably Jadwiga, unknown horrors working for the monstrous Winter Guard, the dragon who leads them all... and Aoife.
Grinds Teeth Noisily in Sleep, or 'Grindtooth' as the non-goblins call him, stands in front of his gang, rolling one of his puny bombs uncertainly in his left hand. The magic of alchemy flows from his fingers and into the infusion, causing it to glow slightly where his fingers touch it.
"Fellow gobbos!" he begins, trying to mimic a speech he once saw the captain of the Iron Guard give, "We have been called to action by the mighty Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight! He needs a distraction. He needs chaos. He needs mayhem!"
A cheer can be heard from his small crew. They are pepped up, but not entirely enthusiastic.
"He needs " cries Grindtooth. This time, the cheer is genuine and loud. Nothing gets a goblin's heart racing like fire. The little creatures jump up and down excitedly as Grindtooth hands out vials of liquid fire.
"We get revenge, too," Grindtooth promises as each of his minions gets a share of his alchemical brews, "We take out Ratcrunch gang while we at it! I know where they live, we bomb place and make Zarongel proud!"
Shouts of pure glee erupt from the gathered goblins as they veritably bounce off after their leader, eager to set fire to their rivals.