Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight grows in size. Unfortunately, he believes he will still fit within the Gobbler's massive furnace .
Aoife smashes into the Gobbler with all her might behind a greatsword blow. The wrought iron exterior of the animated and haunted stove is so hard that even this well-placed blow is far less effective than it otherwise would have been. The Gobbler makes a noise as though a massive gong had just been struck.
Aoife pops into sight immediately after making the attack.
The Gobbler looks a little unsteady on its feet as it attempts to swallow Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight.
Grasping, ghostly hands grab Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight and pull him into the flames. The doors to the stove slam shut with a bash and the whole stove chugs and belches out black smoke, the chorus of children within it laughing morosely.
The gobbler takes an unsteady step backwards, its expression is unreadable.
"Time to break things."
Jorvik steps forward and swings as hard as he can, hoping to knock the door off for the goblin to escape.
Jorvik clips the Gobbler with his hammer, creating the smallest of dents in its front grill.
Unable to get in the room and frustrated, Ishbaad decides to make his own space. "Spit him Out! NOW!" he bellows, lowering his shoulder as he rushes through the door.
Ishbaad halts before rushing in, there is just to much in the way. The urgency of seeing Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight disappear into the belly of the oven has him impatient, so he swings his gigantic sword into the door.
The doorframe throws off his swing however, and he closes his eyes, hoping somehow the blade connects with his intended target.
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"Hey! It isn't so bad in here after all! Me think it a little warm, but not hurt at all. The squeeze was worse! Me wonders, though, what me can do to get out."
Large, but not large enough to break out on his own, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight ponders his predicament. Not sure that it will work, he pulls his morningstar, and swings.
A CLANG can be heard from outside of the stove, but it appears that no dent has been created. "Um, guys? This pretty hard inside, too!"
Ishbaad misses by a narrow margin as he has to reach around the doorframe to take his swing. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight enjoys his bath of flame, but is unable to beat his way out.
Poor goblin. At least he doesn't seem to suffer the flames too much.
Kuragin was planning to save his damaging spells for the dragon, but this haunted stove seems quite resistant against his allies' weapons. Since the creature moved slighty and Kuragin lost it from his sights, he takes a step towards Ishbaad to get the stove in his line of sight again. Then he points his pale hand towards the enemy, and shouts the arcane words:
"снежный ком!"
As a result, a ball of snow flings toward the animated stove with horrible force.
The snowball hits the creature with incredible force. As with his companions' blows, it does less damage than Kuragin would like. However, the malleable steel outer that is moving with the strange, animated stove becomes hard and gets a crust of ice around the otherwise hot exterior. A flake of brittle steel falls off the thing's outer shell.
Aoife judges that if she bludgeons it just right while it is still cool, the effect will be impressive.
The child watches as the growing, yet thin sheet of ice covers and coats the stove's surface. Faintly, she thinks she hears the an odd whistling sound as the extreme heat is instantly quenched, becoming infinitely brittle. Without a second thought, she drops the blade to her feet and it bounces noisily off the floor. "Icy!" she calls again, lost in her rage and not even registering that her friend does not like his name to said in such a way. The child steps foreword, clenching the enormous gauntlets into fists, and then slams both forward against the stove's once reinforced structure.
Aoife's punch has far more effect than her greatsword. She hits the mark right in the middle of the cold patch. The brittle metal breaks apart and the girl can see her goblin friend taking a sauna inside. His morningstar is taking more damage from the flames than he is, though.
Moments later, however, the brittle cold metal is heated once more from the flames within the stove and it lashes out at Aoife.
The grating nearly closes over the small girl, and Aoife can feel the pull of the hungry child spirits within. "Join us!" they say sadly and in unison. Luckily for Aoife, the stove slips on the water that was the snowball Kuragin threw and its aim goes wide.
Seeing how well Aoife is doing and that Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight looks better than expected, Jorvik breaths a sigh of relief.
Jorvik steps forward and once again swings as hard as he can. "Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, though you might not be melting, Get Out Of There!"
Jorvik's hammer clips the Gobbler, but the already damaged stove can take no more. The hole that Aoife created opens and bursts apart. Burning coal spills forth, as its internal contents are emptied onto the floor - including an only slightly singed snow goblin.
"Thank you!" says a chorus of spirits as the faces of burned and bleeding children rise from the shattered remains of Granny Nan's favorite oven. They linger for a moment before dissipating.
Kuragin quickly heals their goblinoid friend with a wave of the wand and all is quiet in the room once more. The only immediate sign of anything of value is an intricately carved miniature cauldron on one of the shelves.
On a whim, Aoife cautiously opens the door behind her.
Crates and barrels fill this storeroom, and a rack hangs on the eastern wall, dangling with kitchen equipment and utensils, above a shelf covered in small glass containers. Shallow laundry basins stained a rusty brown inside sit in the southeast corner. A faint sickly sweet odor hangs in the air.
Hooks are set into the ceiling for hanging animals... well, probably not animals... directly above the blood stained basins. The thought of children being slowly exsanguinated while hanging from these hooks is a chilling one. Jorvik knows that the best way to drain a carcass of blood is to ensure the heart is still pumping for as long as possible. It is likely those killed here were placed on the hooks while still very much alive.
Seeing the goblin pop out of the stove so happily, Jorvik rolls his eyes. "Good to see you unharmed Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. I was worried there for a moment but it seems your goblin resiliency has proven equal to the task one again." His battle chant ended, he can feel his heartbeat even out, and his red-misted eyes return to normal.
Slipping Frostrever onto his back once again, Jorvik picks up his exquisite bow and readies an arrow.
"Kuragin, I am sure that you do not want to be the first through that door. Step aside if you please." Jorvik ends with a courtly bow and a flourish of his waving arm to indicate that Kuragin should take up his customary role towards the back of the party. He stoppers the doors to the kitchen open so that Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight and Kuragin can clearly see into the room they are about to enter.
"Ishbaad, if you please." Jorvik continues his mocking display of deference, this time with the oread. He knows that shortly they will be in the fight of their lives and he tries his utmost to assail their fears, however temporary it will be.
"Despite your constant contradictions to goblin nature my friend," Ishbaad says to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight as he rolls out of the sputtering, dead stove, "It appears that all goblins really are a tough chew." He winks to Aoife in salute to her powerful, shattering smash on the stove, and pats Kuragin on the back for the well timed spell.
Jorvik offers, and Ishbaad returns the mocking bow before hoisting his greatsword in his hand, leaning it on his shoulder. He leans back slightly to keep his balance as he raises his foot and kicks the door with all of his stone giant might.
In one smooth motion as his foot returns to the floor beneath him, the greatsword is in front of him in both hands, a scowl on his face as he surveys the new scene in front of him.
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"Me tell you that, no? Now me need to get small again. Less than a minute. Me still not hurt yet, but next time. We save kiddies now?" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight ponders drinking another potion, but just decides to dismiss the one he drank (if he can).
"Me need to be stronger if me gonna fight like that. Remind me to make grease bottles... So me can grease up and not get swallowed. "
”Glad you’re well and uncooked,” Kuragin smiles as the goblin climb up from the remains of the destroyed stove.
The witch gives way to Jorvik and Ishbaad as the men move into position to breach into the next room. ”You got it right, old friend. I am far more comfortable standing in the back.”
While the others prepare to kick in the door, Kuragin uses his Pearl of Power to regain the magic he just used.
As the companions return to the entryway, the sound of the clockwork mechanisms above grow louder again. They all, but Aoife most poignantly, feel the absence of Evija's haunting songs. Pressing on, Ishbaad opens the double doors to reveal a darkened sitting room. Walls, doors and other obstacles are blocking the light from this room. All of the candles in sconces have burned down, leaving a messy pile of melted wax surrounding a suffocated, burnt out wick.
Ishbaad's eyes subconsciously switch over to reveal the world in hues of black and white. This room is clearly Granny Nan’s sitting room, containing a table in the northeast corner on which rests an attractive glass oil lamp atop a doily. A rocking chair sits in the southwest corner next to a basket containing yarn, knitting needles, and a half-completed mitten. The sheer mundaneness of this room is striking, especially considering the gruesome butcher's hooks in the larder.
Kuragin, in particular, suspects that this entire sitting room was designed to feel familiar and calm.
Listening at the doors, the companions hear no sounds from any of them. The rooms to the north and south are locked, but Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight has a very strong suspicion that he holds the keys.
"Aoife, come here please."
Jorvik begins to cast in a high-pitched elven voice. Suddenly Aoife's gauntlets begin to glow, shedding light into the room.
Glancing at the normalcy of this, juxtaposed with the cruelness of the kitchen, Jorvik truly understands that he is home. This is so very Irrisen.
"Do you supposed that Granny Nan is still here, but invisible? That is that I was trying to tell you Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. Why would she kill all the children and leave? Did she know we are coming?
"I fear that more evil awaits us. The north breeds a strong cruelness that is seldom see in the south. You should all prepare yourselves. Is the greater good more important that innocent lives? Should we do evil to defeat evil? What does that make us?
"I fear our biggest test might not be with bow, sword, or bomb, but within our hearts. Steel yourselves. This will not be fun."
"You all have courage beyond what mortals should be blessed with. Iomedae is with us, fear not." Ishbaad cracks a smile as he walks into the room. He positions himself so that his companions can get to the doors, and his giant frame will not block the way. So positioned, he kicks in the door to the south.
Do evil to defeat evil, yes, an age old question... Ishbaad is distracted for a moment, thinking about a man, in a chair, in a dark room, a lifetime ago.
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"Me not see Granny Nan... whatever she look like. Me cannot see no invisible people. I guess me forgot to make that drink. Me sorry." The goblin looks around frantically, trying to see an invisible person.
He then starts thinking again. "Me think it is time to go upstairs and challenge a dragon, right? If so, me gonna drink a lot of stuff fast. Me gonna get quicker and smarter, and smaller, and me gonna be able to fly. Then Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight be almost ready. Right before we open door, me will drink something to make it so that I can focus my bombs... make them only hit Logrivitch, and hurt him more."
As the pieces of the shattered stove lay scattered about the room, still scorching the floor from their extreme heat, Aoife rushes over and hugs her younger brother. Abruptly she withdraws from the embrace, and then forces the goblin to hold each arm outstretched, level with the floor. Now the child looks each limb over thoroughly, and even glances awkwardly toward his armpits. Next, she makes Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight spin around and around, checking to make sure he is actually alright. After she is finally satisfied, she hugs him four more times, then moves to join the others in the next room.
As Jorvik casts his spell, Aoife hold her gauntlets up, mesmerized by the glow emanating from her father's gloves. Without thinking, she clenches both hands into powerful fists, and lowers the gauntlets to her sides, now able to see within the darkened area.
"I don't trust that she is gone... Granny Nan, I mean," Aoife begins. "I think she is the worst monster we have met so far... And I don't trust that she is gone..."
"I hope she is not gone," the child says quietly to herself, not finishing the remainder of her thought aloud.
So that I can face her down, she thinks, continuing to scan the room.
Ishbaad opens the southern room first.
The walls of this cozy bedroom are painted powder blue. A bed occupies the east side of the room, its headboard pushed against the wall with a nightstand on either side. A desk and chair sit next to the south wall. A dresser with a large mirror above it is pushed against the west wall. A curtain rod is affixed above the mirror with curtains pulled away to either side.
On the long, battered desk sits an elaborate snow globe depicting Whitethrone's Royal Palace. Underneath it is a wooden box containing numerous documents. Child's scrawl is on one of them, but another looks quite official and has a stamp on it.
The room to the east is little more than a washroom. The whole place is kept remarkably clean, and the bath is sized for an adult or up to three children.
The northern room is locked with both an internal mechanism and a huge padlock, that keeps it sealed on the outside. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight has to jiggle the keys quite vigorously to get the barrel of the door's lock to turn. No doubt the pins inside are quite worn from excessive use.
As Ishbaad opens the door, the first thing he notices is the horrendous smell of urine and faeces. An instant later, he sees the emaciated corpses of two children in the room. Their fingers have been abraded to the bone and their fingernails have been worn off. A quick look at the back of the door shows the bloody scratch marks caused by these poor children as they tried vainly to escape.
The whole room looks designed to be comfortable to children. Books, papers, quills, and ink vials sit top the tables. A cot stands to the southeast. The windows are barred, in addition to being sealed, but the shutters are open to let in the natural light. Behind the bloody corpses, toys and dolls are strewn about the floor of this room, and small dining tables with chairs sit in the northeast and northwest corners. Next to these are overflowing buckets filled with piss and s!*%.
Based upon the freshness of the blood on the door and their fingers, combined with the lack of corpse-stench, Kuragin estimates that the children died as recently as yesterday, perhaps even this morning. Ishbaad notes the children's dried, cracked lips and distended bellies, and thinks it likely that they were starved and deprived of water. Thirst probably killed them. Looking around, he sees no empty plates of food nor mugs for water.
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"This place very nasty! Me gonna teach old Granny Nan a lesson when me find her... maybe we gonna kill her slow, like she killed these poor kiddies." Rage appears on the face of the little goblin, rage rarely seen on this unusually kind snow goblin.
"But, me cannot dwell on that now. Me gonna get ready to go fight bad dragon... will take Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight a little time to get ready."
He also offers the following extracts or potions to his allies: Shield (level 6), 2X reduce person (level 1), 2X enlarge person (level 1).
Isbhaad dismisses the gruesomeness and tragedy of the dead children. There would be time to mourn later. Now was the time for vengeance. He sees that the goblin has begun to prepare for the dragon and realizes that the time must have come for it. It was now or never.
He takes the offered potion of shield, and begins to snap buttons from his bandoliers, drinking potion after potion while looking up at the ceiling, knowing what waits for them.
"Well, are we ready to face this dragon my friends? Those of us who can fly should approach through the dragon's entrance above, to cut off any escape. Perhaps a spider climber as well could approach from the outside."
So much to mourn, and so little time. Your focus MUST be on the dragon/
Knowing what is ahead, Jorvik tries, unsuccessfully, to banish the image of those poor children. Revenge will be sweet.
Time to slay the mighty Logrivich.
A nervous as he ever was, Jorvik does not need to voice it. He knows they all feel it, they all know. He begins his preparations to fight the dragon.
"How do we get out the windows? These seem to be barred?"
Kuragin is only surprised the children were left to the room to starve, and not get cooked like the others. Granny must have been in a hurry to leave them there. But the fate of the children was set when they were brought here - little ones' visit to witch's den tend to end up badly.
Without looking back, Kuragin joins the other in the magic-drinking fest, almost competing with the others who drinks the potions fastest.
Unable to process the true extent of her emotions at realizing the terrible fate of the children once held in this place, Aoife turns from the cells and quickly makes her way for the stairwell to the next level. She again feels the brewing of anger, both at Grabny Nan for her cruel, evil and unforgivable treatment of the innocent prisoners, but also at her own self for leaving those children to such a fate. If it weren't for the impending threat still to come, and the fear that Granny Nan might still be somewhere nearby and out of sight, she would have cried.
Aoife would probably never forgive herself for letting those children perish, but for now she had to avenge them. First, Granny Nan and the dragon would pay, just as those trolls had paid, and only then could she begin to deal with grief that wanted to overwhelm her.
In the hallway, as the others pull free and drink their magical potions, Aoife does the same.
"I hope were all set now," says a voice out of thin air.
I can see them, but they can't see me...
Kuragin's fingers twich nervously as he waits for them to ascend. They have been successful so far, even with the heavy beating Jorvik and Aoife took. But now they are going to face a dragon - the beast of legends. It will be very unlikely Logrivich will go down as easy as the trolls did. And Granny Nan going missing worries him too.
Tensions mount, and it seems as though the loud ticking and tocking of the enormous clockwork gears slows and then synchronizes with each of the heroes' heartbeats. The thudding and pounding of their own heart in their ears is palpable. They go to face a fully grown dragon. It is mere feet away, above their heads. The terror of Whitethrone, Logrivich, awaits them.
Risking all to get a jump on the dragon and pushing on the trap door yields no results. A heavy weight is resting upon it. Perhaps it could be shifted with a hard enough shove, but all hope of surprise would be completely lost.
Ishbaad leans out the window as if in response to the goblin. "Through the window I go, and so should whoever else can fly or scale the walls." He shudders involuntarily at the thought of getting caught halfway through the trap door.
It is only then that he remembers he is now invisible, and the others can't see him leaning out the window.
Soaring effortlessly through the air the short distance up to the platform, he hangs back for a moment, knowing the dragon will sense him as soon as he gets close.
"Purga me iniquitatis cum."
Sanctus custos, his mighty greatsword is instantly wreathed in flames, though still not visible to mundane eyes. He takes a deep breath, soaking in the terrifying view before him. He steadies his heart beat, and sets his jaw for the inevitable clash to come.
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"Me thinks that Uncle Ishbaad flew through window. Who else gonna go through window? Mebbe me can carry Aoife, and let her jump and then I bomb, or maybe all can fly or climb?" All of this 'strategery' is hurting the goblin's head. While he is fully capable of complex tactical thought, he still usually relies on his 'frontal assault' instincts. After all, a great goblin hero once said, Quantity has a quality all of its own.*
Quickly following Ishbaad out the window, Jorvik cannot help but think that he would fall. He could feel the acceleration as he sped towards the ground, destined to land with a bone sickening crunch.
But no, he just bob lazily, suspended out the window, but 30' off the ground. He flashes his friend a toothy smile and draws his bow. He nods his readiness before peering back into the tower, he looks for the singal to head up to face the dragon.
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The five adventurers ascend to the next level. The pass the damaged walls and the graffiti that they know reads:
Her cage is empty, your songbird has flown.
Her voice is ours now, you have your crone.
Snow and ice have been allowed to collect upon the floor here, and the partially exposed clock makes more noise than ever. The grinding of the gears would be enough to drive a normal creature mad. Tracked rails weave in and out of the corners of the room, passing through five-foot- square openings in the walls.
Atop a glittering horde of treasure, the mighty Logrivich lounges comfortably. The dragon's scales are a pearlescent white, gleaming in the pre-dusk light that streams into clockwork lair's makeshift opening. Two glowing pinpricks of ice-blue light stare out from small eye sockets, rimmed by a spiny frill that juts out like an impressive ice formation. Just next to this magnificent and terrible creature is an ice statue with hands outstretched and a face filled with sorrow. The chill white and blue statue is that of a hunched crone, exactly matching Aoife's description of Granny Nan, and it stands atop a trap-door. From the look of the snow collecting on her frozen body, she has been that way for some days now.
Logrivich seems neither surprised nor alarmed at the adventurers' arrival. Two massive ice-rimmed wings unfurl lazily, as he stands. Next to him, Granny Nan's icicle-corpse begins to shudder and shake.
It comes to this. Granny Nan has suffered for her failures, and Aoife's worth is further cemented. Now only the dragon stands in our way.
Ishbaad glances to Jorvik, then Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, then Kuragin and finally Aoife. For a brief second, he laments the missing wizard in their merry band.
Though he is invisible to mortal eyes, there is no doubt that the dragon knows exactly where he is. Flames erupt from his massive greatsword as Ishbaad grips it tighter, pulling it back for its first massive swing.
he shouts to know one in particular, filling the void of that fateful, frozen and quiet moment before this epic battle is joined.
And so it begins...
Closing his eyes for a briefest moment, Kuragin uses his witching ways. A cold breeze blows in the room, making the witch's hair sway in the wind. Curiously, the breeze seems only to affect Kuragin. And slowly, his feet are lifted off from the ground, and the man levitates out from the window, following the others.
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Logrivich roars at the witch who bore him the bad news. Granny Nan steps back uncertainly in the face of such anger, stepping onto the trap door that allowed her up to the ferocious dragon's lair only moments ago.
"Well..." begins Nan in a voice far more frail and uncertain than she is used to using, "... how could we know she would be back to paint that? I mean... the utter nerve! She must be hiding somewhere protected from scrying, too... but when she leaves her hidey-hole, I will know it! You have my assurance on that!"
the mighty Logrivich advances on the shaking winter witch,
Nan is shocked as Logrivich opens up his maw and breathes icy death down upon her. Were she a weaker mortal, she would have fallen to that first frosty onslaught. However, Nan Hestreka was the great granddaughter of Baba Yaga herself. She curls her bony fingers and spits a curse that bears all the power her long centuries of life have brought her. Against the mighty Logrivich, however, her curse proves ineffective.
says the mighty Logrivich. He takes in another breath as Granny Nan holds her hands up to defend herself. Strong though she may be, she cannot hope to withstand two bouts of the dragon's breath.
"No... please..." Nan whimpers as a blast colder than anything she has ever experienced freezes the blood in her veins.
It is a long while before Logrivich grows tired of breathing ice on his new favorite statue.
The statue of Granny Nan continues to shake and shudder. Unexpectedly bursting out from beneath, Aoife flings open the trap door. Nan topples over and shatters upon the hard ice of the clocktower's uppermost platform.
cries Logrivich, turning upon Aoife.
"No, you will!" screams the girl charging bravely for the dragon. Her greatsword finds purchase beneath Logrivich's scales and she draws a deep gash below his neck.
Blue blood pours from the wound, making the floor slick. Aoife is shocked as it splashes on her arms. It is possessed of no warmth - in fact, it sucks the heat from her body where it lands.
Logrivich returns the blow in kind, pounding at Aoife with both wings and its tail before tearing at her body with its claws. Stunned by the savage onslaught, Aoife stumbles back over the trap door and falls to the level below.
Logrivich turns upon the companions and glowers at them with his evil glowing eyes as Aoife lands with a sickening thump on the floor below.
Logrivich calls out, his voice rumbling like thunder in the ears of the four remaining heroes,
The taunt is an obvious one. It is perhaps a mercy that Aoife is not conscious to hear Logrivich talk about the unintended consequences of her actions.
Not happy to reveal myself first, but it can sense me anyway.
Kuragin has little interest to exchange any witty banter with the dragon. He just tries to keep his head cool, and concentrate on the battle. The loss of Aoife was a setback in the plan, but otherwise there is no reason to abandon the planned course of action. Let the dragon taste fire!
Kuragin finishes the complex arcane gestures and incantations for his Snowball spell. But just before the energies are released, the Mask of Conflicting Energies glows in light, and the witch can feel the chill turn into unbearable heat. And from his pointed finger, a ball of fire flings towards the dragon. And where the spell originated, the witch becomes once again visible to mortal eyes.
And with the protection of the invisibility gone, Kuragin flies a little left to put some tower wall between him and the enemy.
Logrivich sees the ball of fire coming towards him and smirks, waiting for his natural resistance to do its thing. He is shocked when the blast hits him for its full effect.
cries the mighty Logrivich, Captain of the Winter Guard - though some of his bluster seems to be gone.
He takes to the skies, breathes in deep - making a sick, sucking sound - and manages to hit all but Kuragin in a blast of cold so powerful it rips the moisture from the air, freezing it in place and blasting the companions with icy particles.
Jorvik manages to step aside and only take the smallest hit from the blast. Between his natural resistance to cold and the enhanced effect he is party to, his protection from cold barely has to kick in . The others are not so lucky, however, as they all take the full brunt of Logrivich's wrath .
However, the companions' protective spells do their jobs. No-one is so much as winded by the chilly onslaught.
yells Logrivich dismissively, While he is indeed correct, Ishbaad senses uncertainty in the dragon's voice.