"Who said anything about a troll?" asks Limm, confused, "She's some kind of ice devil. Small but mean. Wings and all. As for where my former comrades will be, I don't know. People move about when they're in a house. Most tend to hang out in the Great Room, the room just inside the doors. Someone (usually whoever loses a bet) ends up going out from that room to patrol the house every half hour or so. I guess that's as close to stable duty as you get.
"Everyone else will either be resting, eating, sh*tting, or going about whatever other business they have. The bridge is to the west of the lodge. Oh, and since none of you bothered to ask, you get this for free: the lady is being kept in the cellar."
The youth listens to Limm, and then looks to her friends, to be sure is not interrupting any of them, before she speaks. "Most of your friends hang out in the Great Room? And, the Lady is in the cellar?" Aoife pauses for a moment and taps her jaw with a giant, gauntlet-clad finger.
Verbally prodding for a few more seconds, Aoife tries to get confirmation as to where within the Lodge the cellar is located.
"The cellar door is located in the kitchen, then," she says with a smile, confirming Limm's answers. "And there is a window into the kitchen, yes?"
"Could Ice Melts Quickly in Sunlight and I sneak in to the kitchen and cellar, through the window, to rescue the Lady without these turds even knowing we've been there?" the little girl says, momentarily exposes her true feelings about Limm and his friends, but turns to face her guardian, her small face flushed scarlet while wondering if she will get in trouble for calling these bandits a bad-name.
"Hmmmm...that method would reap a great reward, but is fraught with peril for the both of you." The wizard taps his chin, or rather, his beard, for a few moments. "Does anyone else have any other plans? I would propose the cull them down a few at a time method, but there is no guarantee they will bite."
"There is much risk in this plan, I agree. Ice Melts Quickly in Sunlight is small, and maybe could get inside unnoticed. But would the lady be silent when getting out? Is she able to walk, even?" Kuragin raises his concerns about Aoife's plan. The child had a good idea, but the risk is great.
"Could we create a diversion to help them escape?"
"No way in or out of that cellar except the trapdoor in the kitchen," says Limm matter-of-factly, "And the new chef - Ten-Penny, is it? - is an ornery b*tch. Tough, too, by the look of her. She hasn't poisoned our food yet, but there's no love lost between us, I can tell you. Some unlucky burglar from Demgazi I think. She joined up just before that winter blew in. Heh. Maybe that's why we never warmed up to her! Ha!"
Limm looks over everyone's faces, perhaps expecting a laugh. When he receives nothing but cold shoulders, he gives a genuine shiver before adding, "Oh, and we've sealed up the windows to keep out the cold drafts. You'd have to smash it in. Not sure how stealthy that would be, and I wouldn't fancy climbing in afterwards." No-one is sure if he is being helpful or just enjoying pointing out the holes in the groups' plans.
As the companions make their final plans, Limm waves goodbye, "I'd wish you luck, but Desna doesn't know how to smile that wide. As much as I'd love to see you stick your weapons in Izoze, I want to be nowhere near here when the sh*t storm you've got planned goes down. May our paths never - ever - cross again."
With that, Limm the Loquacious spits into the snow, creating a little tunnel for his saliva to solidify inside, and trudges off down the path, soon taking one of the smaller trails and disappearing into the forest.
As the group bids farewell to Limm, who hopefully reforms and becomes a pastor in a town hundreds of miles away, Coramus follows the others carefully around the structure, heading toward the Bridge on the other side and the little ice monster Izoze. "I'm glad I don't wear robes like most wizards, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. This cold would creep under my skirt like a dwarf in a brothel."
"When we banish this ice devil from this plane, and rout these bandits, your soul make take solace that you have claimed some redemption. Take care that you do not squander your second chance." Ishbaad eyes him with a stern look before allowing him to pass.
Once he is gone, he turns back to his companions. "so around the stables we go. Who is ready to burn an ice demon?" he says with a wink to the intrepid goblin.
As they begin to take a few steps forward, Ishbaad stops to chuckle to himself. He looks over at Aoife, "They really are turds aren't they?"
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The companions sneak around behind the stables, taking note of where the most flammable areas are. A covered pile of hay and other horse feed behind the stables looks to be the best bet. Spreading that around inside and out should really help the blaze to grow. That in mind, the adventurers creep cautiously from behind the stables to gaze upon the bridge.
A bridge made of rope and wooden planks spans a narrow ravine. The bridge is already covered in ice and snow, and it sways alarmingly in the icy winds blowing through the gorge. The turbulent waters of a fast-moving creek surge through a couple of waterfalls far below.
A hideous, long-nosed, blue-skinned, winged monstrosity can be seen talking to one of those malevolent winter sprites. "Mér er alveg sama ef þeir vilja drepa galar! Teb vill þá safna mat og gættu ræningjarnir eru vel fóðraðir," she yells, viciously in Skald, "Skrikks segir mér bóndi er dauður núna, þannig að það ætti ekki að vera nein frekari aðgerða."
"I don't care if they like killing crows! Teb wants them gathering food and making sure the bandits are fed," she yells, viciously in Skald, "Skrikks tells me the farmer is dead now, so there shouldn't be any further incidents."
A crunch of snow and the winged ice demon turns upon the interlopers, "I told you I have the bridge covered. How hard is it to leave me in peace?" she snaps before realizing that the approaching figures are most definitely not the bandits she has allied with. The limited visibility as the snow falls has made it hard for her to identify one humanoid from another.
"Oh, trespassers! Excellent. I have been growing bored. Your deaths will be exquisite relief for me!" She eagerly rubs her hands together.
"I wonder who's the trespasser here, creature of the north? You are a bit far south of your winterlands" Kuragin replies calmly, but realises the cruel irony of his words a bit too late.
Words obviously are no use here, so the Jadwiga instead curses Izoze with his slumber hex, and realising his vulnerable position, retreats behind the stable.
Kuragin identifies the creature as an ice mephit. It has strong, unnatural defenses. However, unlike the fey, it is not vulnerable to cold iron weapons but magical weapons . Like most cold creatures, it is also likely vulnerable to fire.
Izoze yawns suddenly and falls to the ground, sleeping. Her oversized nose makes a sound as though someone were dragging a chair against a hardwood floor.
"Izoze? Izoze! " screams the sprite. The sprite has seen sleep spells before and gives Izoze an experimental kick in the face . When she sees that it doesn't wake her boss, she looks fearfully at the assembled adventurers before flying directly west over the gorge and almost out of sight .
With Izoze dozing for the time being, the adventurers are able to take full advantage of the situation!
Knowing that his more martial companions will take care of the slumbering creature, Coramus turns his attention to the fleeing sprite. He levels his crossbow, moving forward and then firing at the foul little beast.
With the white drops fluttering past him, Coramus is unable to line up the shot properly and it goes hopelessly wide. He cannot tell if the blue-tinged sprite even saw it.
"So sad sleeping creature. Now to sleep forever. May Desna guide you to peace."
Jorvik's hammer meets with oddly strong resistance from Izoze's skin. Still, it pierces flesh and cracks at least a few of the mephit's ribs. The pain snaps her instantly awake again and she looks around in anger and confusion as she slowly realizes what has happened.
"Fools! I cannot be killed by mere weapons!" she screams, her bones already beginning to re-knit themselves, "You will face my wrath sooner or later. This just means you get to die more slowly!"
Ishbaad sees the demon go down in a sweet little nap, but it's still too far away to do anything about it. figuring he can get into position if the creature decides to get up he trudges his way through the thick snow next to the stable.
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The youth trudges through the deep snow toward the blue-skinned, winged creature, only to watch it slump to the ground. After a few swift strikes from her friends, Aoife watches with dismay as Izoze stirs and wakes, knowing she has not yet moved close enough to strike. She pulls the free the greatsword strapped to her back and draws the blade back in preparation to strike.
As Ishbaad surveys the stables, Aoife moves in to end the ice mephit's life. Even on her back, however, Izoze is an agile one. She deftly rolls out of the way and Aoife's greatsword bites into the hard, frozen ground beneath the snow.
Coramus leaps away from the worst of the blast, looking back at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. "Young man, I told you I am not wearing robes, so there is no need to warm my legs, ok?"
Hearing allies surrounding the ice memphit, Kuragin believes it is safe to emerge from his hiding place. While Izoze seems to be in a bad position, the ice memphit is very sure of himself - maybe it has some tricks up its sleeve... To hamper whatever the ice memphit will be trying next, Kuragin curses it with misfortune.
Izoze screams as the liquid fire runs up her arm and the flames take hold much more quickly than Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is used to seeing. In the end, she calms down after a few rolls in the snow. Her burns scab up and begin to heal.
Izoze's screams turn into a gout of icy breath, as Jorvik, Ice Melts Quiety in Sunlight and Ishbaad take the full brunt of the chill breeze.
The nimble goblin leaps out of the way, taking only a minor chill on his backside . Jorvik's Jadwiga blood helps him to withstand most of the damage despite taking it full in the legs , and once again Ishbaad feels the cold the most keenly .
Jorvik and Ishbaad feel sudden chills strike up their bones, in addition to the frozen burn felt by her breath. Neither can manage to move quite properly as uncontrollable shivering takes over.
In an attempt to stop herself from being surrounded, Izoze crawls out to the bridge.
Jorvik misses as the ice mephit scuttles out of the way, half-crawling half-sliding on her back with all fours. She doesn't even see what is coming next as the human child she had been ignoring also takes a swipe at her.
Aoife lands a very solid blow. Despite Izoze's defenses against mundane items, she screams in pain as her skin parts and the icy mist that gives her life escapes her body. She seems to deflate and then all that is left of her is an icy breeze.
"Fie to thee....." the breeze seems to say, and then all is quiet.
She... Is... Already.... Getting.... Stronger....
Ishbaad chatters and shakes, trying to will the chill from his body.
"wee-elll d d d donnne eeeee-fa... Iccccce m m m m.... B b burn this barn down..."
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Spitting on on the frozen ground, summoning all his inner strength to keep the bile from his stomach from spewing out his mouth, Jorvik breathes slowly in and out, calming his breathing.
"A moment ... just a moment friends."
Aoife looks down at the still corpse of the creature, severed and deflated, and the youth feels a sudden pang of fear. Her eyes drift over the enormous blade in her gauntlet-clad hand and she observes what must be the creature's blood coating the steel, though it is frozen and forming miniature shards of jagged ice along the sharpened edge. Her eyes next fall upon the is exquisite inscription etched into the blade, In honor of Nadezhda, and Aoife understands at that moment where her fear is rising from.
The child is not sorry for laying this evil creature to its eternal rest, in fact, she doesn't feel any compassion for the beast at all. Perhaps now it is at peace, she hopes to herself. Aoife knows she is different than when she left her house, fleeing with a poorly packed satchel and no trail rations, heading for Uncle Ishy's and the far-flung goal of finding her father. She is not the same person which left Oppara. Not the same girl any longer.
This fact frightens her.
"What should I do next?" she asks, pausing to give the greatsword a swift kick that shattered the creature's frozen blood into a shower of ice particles.
The wizard nods at Aoife. "That was well swung, young woman. How do you manage to pack such power into such a small frame? Would you mind if I studied you later? Ummmm...with your Uncle Ishbaad in attendance, of course."
Coramus grins at Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. "It seems as though we are ready for your special contribution to our plan, my friend."
|
"Fire?" asks the goblin, a sparkle growing in his eye. He goes back to his pack, and pulls out a contraption of three alchemist's fire wired together with scraps of twine, wire, and things that most civilized people wouldn't even try to guess at. He walks up to Ishbaad holding it out, a grin from ear to ear. "You strong. You throw far. Throw onto barn, I give Coramus's word that this will start it on fire."
The goblin hasn't quite figured out the subtleties of his mentors pitches when selling their patent cures.
Ishbaad smiles at the guarantee offered by the goblin, all while frowning at the sudden, creepy, awkwardness by the old wizard's suggestion.
He picks up the device with care, having heard that most goblin inventions work amazingly well as often as they blew up in the user's face.
He waits for his companions to get in place to launch the ambush before doing the honor of lighting the barn on fire. Creeping around, he checks to see if any animals are inside before kicking some of the hay around to help accentuate the blaze. With a heave, he tosses the wired up bomb to a spot he has picked out with some dry wood exposed, then regrips his longspear, waiting for the bandits to come out.
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The stables are set ablaze almost instantly - the accelerants packed into the improvised bomb do their work admirably. Its cumbersome nature and the way it slowly broke apart would leave it ill-suited to combat, but ideal for igniting a small, wooden building packed with hay.
The flames bring renewed vigour to Ishbaad's sincerely cold body. He stands perhaps a little too close to the flames at first, needing to back off a few steps. As he turns himself around like a rotisserie chicken, his blood once again starts to flow normally.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight taps him with the wand, and the shivers and shakes - even the cold burns from the mephit's breath - all leave him. He feels as good as new!
The little goblin is so pleased with the results, he even heals Coramus of the burns that he caused.
Just as Ishbaad stretches out the last of his ailments, a neighing and whinnying can be heard from within the stables. Suddenly, a horse with flaming mane and tail bursts from the burning building and half-screech half-neighs all the way past the front doors of the lodge. If the bandits didn't notice the fire before, they sure notice it now!
Five heavily armed men, noticeably lacking furs, pour forth from the lodge, two with shortbows drawn, the others wielding shortswords. They are yelling at each other in varying states of indecision about what to do with the flaming stables.
"Well I didn't burn it, I don't see why I should have to put it out!"
"Who cares about putting it out, let's find whoever did this before Rohkar kills us all!
"You were supposed to be on watch anyway, Barry, it's your fault!"
"As if! I was looking, no one came near the place."
"You weren't looking, you were fiddling with yourself in a corner! Haw!"
The flames and a break in the weather have stopped the snow from filling the air, and fighting this close to the Lodge, the snow on the ground has been trampled enough to provide little hindrance to movement.
Coramus moves to get a clear shot at Oliver, firing his crossbow after getting all the bodies out of his way. He almost slips in the packed snow as he fires, the shot going far into the distance.
The wizard reloads his crossbow, then fires at Oliver again.
Seeing the bandits emerge from the house, Jorvik quickly steps to the side, and readies his hammer for their approach.
Oliver cries out in pain as the wizard's second quarrel finds its mark.
Jorvik finds himself drawn to the flames and steps in behind the stables.
Ishbaad steps out to get a better look at the bandits as they pile out of the house. He takes a second to cast a small, but helpful spell on himself.
Flexing his muscles and enjoying the renewed vigor thanks to the heat from the fire, he grins, a small chuckle turning into a laugh as he pumps his giant feet into a run. It might take a bit to get the boulder rolling, but once it starts, it is hard to stop. He charges forward, longspear thrusting towards Oliver's belly.
for
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Ishbaad calls to his god for guidance and charges for Oliver, running him through. The man gasps silently and falls to the ground, bleeding to death.
As the blaze engulfs the stable, Aoife's hand flexes then retightens upon the hilt of her blade. Ahead she can see the enemies pouring from the house, their weapons bared and ready to deal death to her and her friends. After casting a sidelong glance at the deflated corpse of the creature, laying at her feet, the youth springs forward, bellowing a fierce roar.
Her feet trudge through the deep snow, pushing it away from her churning legs in cascading waves. As she moves, she draws back on her blade, hoping to close the great distance between the group before being brought down by their weapons.
Aoife knows she must strike these men down in order to protect her friends.
With so many enemies inbound, Kuragin thinks personal protection is the best course of action. A simple spell conjures energies, which form around the caster, creating an invisible armour.
Seeing Aoife and Ishbaad storming into the front, Kuragin decides to follow a bit closer. It still feels weird to stay behind the child, but she has proven to be quite capable so far. I wonder if those two even need any help. But best to deal with them quickly, lest they summon help. And the witch helps them with the best he can - the hex of slumber on Barry.
In a flurry of witchcraft, Kuragin both protects himself and curses one of the bandits to fall into a deep sleep. Barry falls to the snow snoring loudly.
Roy steps past the sleeping Barry, over the corpse of his slain friend and attacks who he believes to be a greatsword wielding halfling maniac.
The other two bandits make use of their bows and lob off shots at Ishbaad, hoping to take him down before they share Oliver's fate.
The arrow catches Ishbaad full in the chest, slicing past something vital. Acting on instinct, he drops his spear and pulls out the arrow and his wound gushes blood. Unable to take the pain as his lifeblood pours from him, the oread falls unconscious.
Seeing his original target go down, John changes his aim and goes for Kuragin instead. He did not like what the witch did to his now-sleeping friend.
While the arrow pierces Kuragin's magical protections, it strikes only a glancing blow.
Aoife watches in horror as her guardian is struck by the arrow and slumps to the snowy blanket at his feet. "Ishy!" she screams, the unmistakable twang of stark panic gripping her words.
Aoife's breathing is shallow and her vision is narrowing. The child cannot process (nor does she want to) the possibility that the only rock and stability she has left in her life might be dead. You cannot die! she thinks feeling a flip in her emotions, and the sadness and fear overtaken by a deeper and more powerful surge of hatred for the bandits before her. First mother... then father, the thoughts storm in her mind, a sickening mixture of fear and frustration, broiling into pure rage. You cannot leave me too!
Her eyes turn sharply to the nearby bandit, and her teeth grind painfully together as she swings, hoping to dismantle the man limb from limb.
Jorvik rushes forward, and casts Cure Light Wounds on Ishbaad, knowing they will need him to defeat these foes.
The old man progresses forward, troubled by the apparent marksmanship of the archer. He draws forth a dabble of butter from his pouch, casting a spell as he waves his arms about, chanting eldritch words. Suddenly, the area around John and Malcolm becomes filled with grease!
Aoife lays into Roy with her oversized weapon. The man studies his opponent and his goes wide as if to say, "Is that a child?" He shakes his head and resumes his battle stance, and the large gash Aoife opened up on his left arm continues to drip blood onto the snow peppered path.
Jorvik's healing surges through Ishbaad, and the wound in his chest stops bleeding so profusely. The arrow wound is still worryingly open, however.
Amazingly, both bandits manage to retain their footing as the ground beneath them turns to butter. Perhaps they have had enough experience on the ice recently to instinctively hold their balance on such slippery surfaces.
Kuragin feels his heart thumbing quicker. Are they taking on more than they can swallow? These bandits are expert archers, dropping Ishbaad with one arrow. He is so astonished that he barely notices his own wound.
Feeling panic kicking in, Kuragin tries to find cover behind his allies and proceeds to hex his next victim.