Kuragin nods. This is more of gesture towards the common will of their group, rather than agreement in Auraenos' words. Even if he is suspicious of the fey, they are now so close to the hut it is pointless to start bickering. And the others trust the fey, the fools that they are.
"Do your scouting swiftly, and let us then proceed to the hut."
The witch swiftly follows Ishbaad towards the northern path. But as he walks, he keeps the dawn piper in his field of vision at all times - even if this makes his walk look a bit funny.
"Nothing but woe lies that way," warns the dawn piper, "And you only delay our return to the First World." Auraenos will say no more: even with the companions as his last hope to leave this place, he cannot bring himself to help these mortal interlopers.
And so it is that Ishbaad and the others travel up the last path in this overgrown market square - a forest in the heart of this bustling metropolis. Ishbaad leads the way, and realizes too late that he has caught his foot on some kind of wire. As he contemplates whether going back or forwards is the right way two trees crash down upon him. A daring leap forwards has him clear of the mess and he is only slightly bruised by some passing branches.
He is temporarily cut off from his companions, however, as three crazed little creatures wearing their hair like wizards' robes, who Ishbaad recognizes as nuglub gremlins, jump out and try to tear him apart. One uses an innate ability that makes Ishbaad's armor uncomfortably hot, and then searingly hot. The oread pushes through the pain, however, and - joined by Heafoc - by the time the remaining three companions have made it past the fallen trees the gremlins have been sliced and clawed to pieces.
A wagon littered with human corpses lies at the far north of this path; past victims of the nuglubs no doubt. Other than some minor jewelry (worth 80gp) nothing of particular value is found here.
Auraenos cannot seem to keep the I told you so look from his face as the bedraggled Ishbaad wanders back past the former location of the water font.
When the heroes and their erstwhile fey companions move north, the fey well behind the interlopers, they notice that the reality siphon is indeed gone. The view to the hut is still obstructed, however, this time by a hulking (but only a foot or so bigger than human-sized) statue hewn from solid ice. Its craftsmanship is amazing and the smooth surfaces gleam in whatever light makes it through the canopy here.
Suddenly, it turns its head as the companions approach. Kuragin and Jorvik both recognize it as one of the Ice Golems used as guards at the Royal Palace - not just similar, but one of the actual[i] guards. The unmistakable royal family seal of the [i]Jadwiga Elvanna is emblazoned upon the thing's chest.
The creature does not move from where it is, but stands ready as it regards the group.
"Weapon of Awe." Ishbaad prays, quickly and rather flatly.
What his words lacked in inspiration, his blade makes up for as it glows and shimmers in the cold light of the forest. Setting his left foot forward, and his right foot in a position of power behind him, he grips the pommel of the sword in both hands.
"We will enter and take the hut. You will either try to stop us, or get out of our way. Do you fight for Queen Elvanna?" Ishbaad's words are blunt and straight to the point. He is unsure if the golem even has the programming to respond, but something inside him is placated slightly knowing that if possible, they could avoid destroying an ally.
As the thought runs through his brain, it sparks a question. He turns to his companions, Kuragin in particular. "How did one of Elvanna's golems get this far into the forest, when the winter guard couldn't make it past the forest edge?"
The golem remains impassive, not answering Ishbaad's direct question.
Spying the ice golem, Jorvik sighs in frustration. "Ishbaad, I fear that this foe has outclassed my abilities. I shall do what ever I can to aid you my friend. Soon, the melodies of my song, the tall of our deeds, the ode to our companions that have fallen, shall fill your ears and strengthen your arms. May you strike hard and true my friends.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, stay by my side my friend. My flesh shall serve as your shield. I pray Desna gives me strength."
"We are so close. So close. Do you see us queen? Do you know what we are and how close we have come to usurping you?"
"Very well." Ishbaad looks over his shoulder at the others, making sure they are prepared, then begins to advance on the Ice golem, praying the protective magics still surround him that saved him from the Dragon's icy breath.
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Seeing the ice golem, and with Jorvik's comments, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight says, "Me got this. Bosses stay back! Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight will melt this sucker!" He pushes past Jorvik, drawing out a bomb. "Ice golems no like fire. Me like fire. Me melt it not quietly!! Hee hee hee!"
"Uncle Ishy! You stay back. We make it come to us, while it burns and melts!"
He addresses the golem. "You creature of the b$%%~ queen. Me know how to fight winter... you cleanse it !" he yells, as he prepares to throw.
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"Guardian of ice and snow,
noble and steadfast,
unwavering and true,
silent vigil ending.
Sword of metal so hard,
Glass breaking, fire spreading,
Hammer blow upon you,
Master of the arcane to unweave you,
Ice from the unforgiving land,
Snow from the uncaring sky,
Creative magic to bind,
Flesh and blood to destroy."
"It is a golem, Ishbaad. A mindless servitor made of ice - you don't have to excuse forself for it. This one bears Elvanna's seal, so I agree with the goblin. Let him bombard it with his fires. My magic, unfortunately, will be useless here."
But Kuragin has powers beyond mere spells of arcane. After so long a time, he reaches out for the strands of fate, and guides the goblin's hand. And once holding the luckiest of threads, he lets out a might chant, to grasp them a longer time.
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As the companions' eyes adjust to the scene, they peer beyond the golem to the Hut behind it. Baba Yaga's Dancing Hut is a rather ramshackle two-story wooden hut, and it dominates the clearing. This hovel stands on enormous chicken legs that restlessly scratch at the ground, but a gigantic manacle of iron, attached to a huge chain bolted to a spike in the earth, shackles the hut in place. A bleached-bone fence surrounds the structure, and two corpses are impaled upon the sharpened bone pickets. A few ravens hop and flutter over the bodies, picking at the choicest bits of flesh.
The heroes are left to wonder how the Black Rider imagined they could break such a powerful chain. Certainly, if they were able to be broken by force, the Hut - currently tearing great gouges into the ground with its enormous, powerful feet - would have done so already. Any magic that could shackle the Hut to this plan, fell sorcery created by Queen Elvanna herself, would likewise surely be beyond the companions' capabilities. Perhaps that was a problem for another time, though, as Nazhena's hands already spin in the beginnings of a spell.
There reverie is broken, however, as from somewhere beyond and above the golem, a disembodied voice calls out to them.
"And so it falls to me," the voice is a female one, beautifully smooth but filled with malice. From the accent, Kuragin and Jorvik instantly recognize it as belonging to a highborn Jadwiga. "Your pathetic rebellion is at an end. My poor Radosek has been killed in the course your clumsy uprising, but he shall be avenged. All of you will suffer before the end... and when you are gone, I will hunt down every last person who helped you and burn them alive. I will find your friends and your family across the face of Golarion and freeze their blood in their veins.
"My great-great-grandmother, Queen Elvanna, selected me to keep the Hut safe, and so I shall. I will never understand why a band of misfits and foreigners chose to rebel against the Queen, but I guess in the end it does not matter. Your corpses will adorn the Royal Palace walls and none who so much as remember your names will live long enough to enjoy the sight."
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's bomb strikes the golem full in the chest. Searing flames erupt and fill a large portion of the clearing. The goblin looks on to see how much of the ice creature melted in the fiery inferno. He is disappointed to see the result: not one drip of water has left the golem's surface. It is unmarred and unblemished. Even the fire that still clings to the alchemical fluid that now coats it seems not to harm the automaton. It barely even moves in response to the attack.
"Ha! Did you seriously think that after seeing all that you have done I would not prepare for your hideously predictable assault?" laughs the woman's cruel voice in a mocking tone, "You were lucky before... Logrivich may be dead at your hand, but he was an arrogant fool. He was not ready to face you. I am. I would advise you to run, but we both know you are too stupid for that... and I would hunt you down and slaughter you anyway."
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight analyzes the dweomer covering the golem. The way the flame continues to but doesn't seem to even partially affect it suggests a resistance rather than an absorbing effect like protection from energy. Likely it is indeed a powerful casting of the spell .
Flying 15ft in the air is none other than the blonde haired Nazhena Vasilliovna. Her beauty is almost unmatched, even amongst the Jadwiga. Her long, flowing dress is adorned with feathers. As is the norm, it looks wintry but offers nothing in the way of true protection from the cold, and her ample bosom is available for all to see. She caries a wand in one hand and a sickle in the other - both exude an aura of frost enough to freeze the moisture in the air around them.
An evil grin splits her delicate but severe features, wavering slightly as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's assault washes over her golem.
The flames engulf the Golem, causing its beautifully carved body to melt and drip all over the snow. The puddle at its feet quickly becomes ice once more upon contact with the frozen ground. Impossibly, flames still cling to the ice golem's body.
Despite all this, the creature still neither moves nor takes its gaze off the companions.
"Baroness Vasilliovna. You are a most handsome woman. You shouldn't be hiding your beauty from our eyes."
Kuragin isn't nearly as confident as he sounds - as much as he knows, the baroness is a mighty witch and a formidable opponent. But best course of action is to give his companions a fighting chance. So with a wave of his hand, Kuragin the air around Nazhena explodes into thousand glittering sparkles, outlining the baroness' invisible form.
Suddenly, a glittering outline of the Jadwiga witch appears floating above the scene as Nazhena Vasilliovna is coated in sparkling motes of light.
"You have learned the lessons we have taught you well, Kuragin Kseniya," the Baroness spits, "It is a shame you have used your talents for the wrong side once again! This, though, shall be your final lesson. Second chances are rare in Irrisen. You, and your half-breed companion, have squandered yours!"
"Cone of cold!" she chants, and instantly an icy blast erupts from her fingertips. The frozen doom envelopes her golem and continues on to blast everyone in the path. At its widest point, it is 60ft wide, and extends almost to where the dawn piper and his companions await the outcome of this battle.
Nazhena suddenly appears beneath the glittering motes covering her, having attacked her invisibility fades. Alarmingly, in front of Nazhena, it appears as though her blast of cold has refrozen the golem - effectively healing it. Further, the lingering flames on the golem are snuffed out by Nazhena's chill blast.
This re-invigorated golem simply stands there as the companions approach, impassive as ever. Nazhena, on the other hand, flies over the Hut. The minute she is past the line of the bone fence, the Hut strains at its shackles and almost topples over as it attempts to swipe at her in mid-air with one of its legs. She has long ago tested the extent of the chained Hut's reach, however, and makes it safely over and behind the Hut... and out of sight of the companions.
The cold washes over Ishbaad, as deep and biting as the dragon's breath. He says a silent prayer in thanks for the Heralds and their gifts as he feels nothing of the cold's sting.
"We must be careful with this foe, she seems to be as dangerous as the rumors suggest." Ishbaad barks. His heartbeat begins to thump in time with Jorvik's chant, and he feels the blood rushing through his veins, faster and faster with each beat. In a flash, he lets the sensation of the battle cry wash over him.
"Now lets clear the way!" With a shout, he begins to pump his feet. Snow and dirt churns up underneath him as he runs as fast as his stony legs will carry him, his awe-inspiring blade trailing behind him, poised to strike. As he comes close, he brings the blade down in a viscous arc, hoping sheer force will do the job where star metal is required.
for
The moment Ishbaad is within range, the golem lets out a gout of icicles and snowflakes. Its frigid breath also passes over Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. Both adventurers fear not the cold, but they know that every time this happens, they get closer and closer to losing their protection.
Moments later, Ishbaad is there and brings his blade down upon the ice golem's head. A shock courses up Ishbaad's arm as the steel meets solid ice. Cracks appear all over the ice creation's face, however, and it is clear that Ishbaad has dealt it a solid blow.
"You have taught us your lessons well, Nazhena Vasilliova. It seems the perfect time to school you in revenge, a dish we in the north love so much.
"For there is much you owe to those we love, there is much I need take from you. I will enjoy every single second that I see you grimace in pain. I will savor the grunts as I cut each limb from you. I may keep you alive, deformed, ugly. Maybe I shall shave your locks. Maybe I will break your knees. There is much I wish to do."
Jorvik drops Frostreaver at his feet and whips Heartseeker form the holster on his back. Drawing an arrow in one smooth motion, he lines the Jagwida in his sights and readies a shot.
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The cone of cold slams into the little goblin, but he seems unfazed by it, as his protections still hold. He sticks his tongue out at the now visible witch, safe in his protective magics.
He sees the golem had burned with his first bomb, he repeats the effort, avoiding getting Ishbaad in the flames.
"The wrong side, dear Baroness, is in the eye of the beholder. And by all traditions, anyone turning against Baba Yaga is an enemy of the Jadwiga. So I, Kuragin Kseniya, am on the just side. Where as you, Nazhena Vasilliovna - lackey of the b$+~! Elvanna, are on he wrong side."
Names... Such power they have. But now I should shut up, and concentrate on the battle. She will not be easily defeated.
Kuragin's eyes follow Nazhena's flight, but the man himself stays put. She is too far for his hexes, but the ice golem strongly discourages closing the distance. Luckily he still has some magic available. The witch's hand visits the pouch containing his spell components, and brings back a rotten egg saved just for this specific purpose. The stench emanating from the egg is already quite overbearing, but it is just a meek version of what is about to come.
"Stinking cloud! " Kuragin cries, and crushes the egg. The foul smell is absorbed by his magic, and putrid, green cloud envelopes the area around the baroness.
"And now, traitor, feel he wrath of the Black Rider. Once we are done, I shall carve your heart out of your pretty chest, eat it, and steal your powers. As is only proper." For such a statement, Kuragin's voice seems to lack any emotion. It is as if he is just stating the facts.
"Listen to the words of the Bloodspeaker, Baroness! Your doom is at hand! We are the Black Rider, and you will answer to Baba Yaga!"
The Baroness flies up and out of the stinking cloud. On her way to the cover of the trees, she retches and dumps the contents of her stomach on the bone fence. It glitters spectacularly on its way down. She glares at Ishbaad when she briefly comes into view, and he gets the distinct feeling that she would like to scald him but may lose more of her lunch if she tries.
The golem, meanwhile, simply wails upon the oread with its massive icy fists... though they continue to melt and shrink from the goblin's unnatural flames.
The golem is not used to its shorter reach, and simply moistens Ishbaad's stunning suit of armor... as it continues to burn ().
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight giggles when he realizes that his bombs are working fantastically well on the golem. 'Me need to get some lamp oik for times like this... cheaper than alchemists fire, and saves on bombs.'
Even though he is quickly out of bombs, the snow goblin has never been known for showing restraint! He moves around, trying to get to the point where he sees Nazhena. There are still too many trees between her and him for him to really want to throw, and he wants to get Ishbaad free to fight her, in any case. Thus, he throws another bomb at the golem, excluding himself and Ishbaad.
"Hee hee hee! Burn! Fire! Burn!!! Hee hee hee!"
The bomb strikes the golem square in the head. It is hard to tell what damage was done by the heat, and what was done by the explosive force of the bomb itself. As the blaze dies down and fizzles on the molten snow, only a rapidly melting pile of ice shards remain.
Baroness Nazhena looks simultaneously worried and furious as she regards her shattered creation. She dry heaves as she glares from her aerial position.
"Ice Melt's Quietly in Sunlight, do you still have that potion of fly we took from the Dragon? I'll never reach this wench without it!"
Ishbaad never takes his eyes off of the miserable witch as he makes his request of the goblin. In the meantime, he pulls a potion from his bandolier and flicks the stopper on it.
"Do you hear that Baroness? I am coming for you!" he bellows, then pours the potion down his throat.
His body morphs and grows to twice its size, and Ishbaad revels in the stature he feels so natural with. As he grows, he continues to yell, "Thora will be avenged! Justice will be served, and the north will be wiped clean of the stain that is the Jadwiga Elvanna!"
He doesn't care that his motivations are mixed, and generally at odds with each other. He only lets his righteous anger burn as his heart thrums with the bloodspeaker's chanting.
Ishbaad isn't sure, but through the puking and the sparkling, Nazhena looks a little afraid. She tries to hide it, but there is only so much composure you can manage mid-hurl.
Jorvik smiles. First Ice and Ishbaad destroys the golem, then Kuragin sickens the witch. It was time to show his worth.
Not seeing the witch, Jorvik charges forward past the downed golem.
What was Thora thinking when this b%#+$ killed her. Was she longing for her mother, for a hero to rescue her, to die quickly without that pain? Whatever that poor girl felt, I shall make this witch pay for sevenfold.
Slowing his breathing, he rounds the corner with mer coming into view. He can only see the arrow tip, and the witch. The arrow tip, and the witch. Two separate, but one. The arrow tip, and the witch.
Exhaling, the shaft flies through the air, straight and true.
"We come for you witch. We Jadwiga know how to make the pain last. Forever. Come friends, the hut in in sight. Dig deep. Now is our time!"
Heafoc dives from behind Jorvik, biting deep into the witch.
There is something immensely satisfying in hearing the sounds of Nazhena retching. But she managed to fly her way out of the cloud, and out of Kuragin's sight. And the fight is far from over, the baroness is only temporarily disabled and can still wreak havoc should she recover from her nausea.
As much as he prefers to stay in the back, Kuragin feels he has no other option than to approach the front lines. The Jadwiga lifts the hems of his linen skirts, and sprints through the snow-covered battlefield.
Nazhena grunts in pain as the arrow strikes her side. She spits left over vomit from her mouth, the smell almost causing her to gag, "How... dare you... compare your... self... to... me... half-bree.... huargh!" The baroness loses the battle with her stomach and what has to be the last of the contents of her stomach splatter onto the snow before freezing upon the ground.
The baroness is more annoyed than hampered by Heafoc and she casts a wary eye over the now massive Ishbaad with her mutilated golem at his feet and decides to beat a tactical retreat, flying back towards the stinking cloud.
Heafoc is unable to land another blow, and Nazhena flies over the cloud of fog and then drops down behind it, hovering just above the fetid air. As before, the Dancing Hut rails against its massive chain to try to break free. Not for the last time, the companions wonder how on Golarion they can manage to break the enormous dimensional manacle, specially forged by the daughter of the Queen of Witches.
Nazhena makes a low whistling noise, followed by a dry heave. Kuragin and Jorvik both think that she has likely just spoken to her familiar.
"Kuragin, that b@&!% is hidden. Can you dissipate that fog cloud? I have arrows that need a home in the middle of her breast!"
"Yes my little goblin friend, it seems as though I will need that potion." Ishbaad says, halting his reach for the long hammer on his back.
Once the potion hits his hands, Ishbaad pours it down his throat, regaining the sensation of weightlessness. Grinning, he begins to streak through the air, staying just above the rotten stench.
"Through tyranny and fear you ruled the little hamlet of Waldsby, but in your arrogance you never saw anything like us coming! You can only rule through fear for so long before those you oppress will finally fight back. Aoife is not beside me to bring you the justice she longs to exact on you, but I will do it for her!"
"Can you hear me Aoife, wherever you are? The time has come! Your death will be excruciating, Witchy-Poo!"
Heafoc at the most primal of levels is a hunter. Though she allows Jorvik to acompmany her occasionally on hunts, it is her job, her life, what she was created for.
Staring at the white witch that had caused so much pain to her human, she gives a loud, "" before diving in to peck and rake.
Jorvik remembers, from one of the tales he heard, of the dawn pipers' pipes being able to create massive, billowing blasts of wind .
"Fear is how one... rules, foreigner!" the Baroness spits, dry heaving a little, "Waldsby was... mine... by right... and that little... bïtch girl... deserved... everything she... got, for... insulting... me, her ruler. For... repeating her insult... you, too... shall suffer my... tyranny."
Just as Heafoc nears Nazhena, her flight is intercepted by another feathered form! An owl, white as the driven snow, streaks out of its hiding spot to charge headlong into Heafoc.
The talon barely scratches the flesh beneath Heafoc's feathers. However, the bird feels its life essence being drawn into this strange owl, growing weaker as the opposing bird seems to grow stronger.
Heafoc streaking form is waylaid by this second tier predator. With the merest of touches, Heafoc can feel the strange magic ebb her life force from her.
Her wounded "Aayyyyiiii" resonates deep within the snowcaster elf below.
She turns her head and bites with all she has at this new menace.