Orik stretches a bit, ”there’s a bunch of us, and one giant, right? Even if they weren’t, they’re threats to the people who live around here. Let’s just defeat them, we can prepare in advance.”
While the spell is still in effect, Yrja gets Ratibor's attention once more, pointing to the giant outside the hut and making exaggerated "???" gestures at him.
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Ratibor peers out the window and chuckles.
"I am bound to defend, not attack, and I cannot leave the Hut...but...the Hut itself can attack."
He addresses the various implements in the room.
"Hear me now, Windows and Mirrors,
And let us see our surroundings clearer."
Immediately a hodge-podge of small windows and frames, and various mirrors hop out of shelves--you're certain one of those mirrors is for application of makeup, although Zon-Kuthon knows when Baba Yaga would use it--and arrange themselves around Ratibor.
He looks a little embarrassed. "The rhyme is better in Iobarian."
The windows become as silvery as the mirrors, and then show various viewpoints from the outside. You count as many as a dozen frost giants standing in the clearing around the Hut, with the axe-wielding sentry as the closest to the front door.
He whistles and sucks at his teeth. "That's a lot of them. Someone is very very keen to bother Grandmother."
Yrja swallows at the sight of so many frost giants. While one of them would probably not be a great challenge to fight if they had to, a dozen was a different story altogether.
The Hut, the Hut...
"Zorka? Are you there? We, uh, could use a little help here, please!"
Raising her voice to call for the kikimora, Yrja glances at the others to see if they have any other thoughts on how to handle this.
Dez's watches with wondering eyes as the hut shifts to reveal the full surroundings, but frowns seeing all the giants.
"So, is Ratibor saying that the frost giants are here to attack the hut, or that they are here to defend the hut against someone else 'keen to bother Baba Yaga'"? And what does he mean when he says the hut can attack? Does he mean attack the frost giants? That would be nice, but that doesn't seem like something we can count on. In any event, there is no way we are fighting our own way out, as Yrja observes. Yes, some guidance from Zorka would really be helpful."
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Zorka pops out of a hidey-hole.
"Oh, you bunch of cowards! Go out there and fight a giant or two. The Hut will take care of the rest. What are you, a bunch of mice? Go out there and be like the bogatyrs that came before you! Dobrynya didn't falter when facing the three headed dragon! Evpaty fought the entire Batu Khan's army and was victorious! Shoo! shoo!"
She aims her tiny broom at Yrja and Dez, sweeping dust at them, then shakes a diminutive fist at Orik.
"The Hut better 'take care' of the rest, or else we'll all be dead, and there won't be anyone to help Baba Yaga! Seeing how all her heralds are gone and all, so who is going to put a geas on the next round of 'helpers' who do her bidding!"
Yrja's patience finally snaps as the young witch turns on one heel and marches towards the door, chin held high and fists balled up at her sides.
"Well then, let's get it over with!" She places a hand on the door leading to the exterior of the hut.
Ratibor looks extremely amused.
"If we're to go fight giants, I think we need to rest up, promise of help from the hut or no."
With that, Dez finds a corner of the room to set up a bedroll and a space for sitting and taking some notes and undertaking some minor alchemy experiments (which, aside from sleep, is his way of resting). He'll do some little tricks for Ratibor, if the barbarian is interested, and he'll share the best of his foodstuffs with Ratibor as well. After enough relaxation to allow the adrenaline to fade, he'll rest for eight hours and do his preparations upon waking.
"Alright. In that case, Pufos and I will work on some spells that might help in the fight to come. I can make some of you larger, if you think that would help?" The witch looks at their new companions in particular as she explains her arcane capabilities.
"Most of my magic is aimed at incapacitating our foes, but I can also make everyone move a lot faster for a short time. And I can conjure a foul-smelling cloud to try and keep us from getting overwhelmed, so if you see a bank of fog do not walk into it!"
Ratibor is amused, and actually laughs once, the sound somewhat strange from the dour Iobarian. He even asks the party for a few words of Taldane, and spends some time practicing "yes", "no", and "out", which seems to satisfy him.
Dez is pleased Ratibor loosened up at least a teeny bit. In response to Yrja, he comments, "I fight better small and quick than big and strong, so I do not think it makes sense to enlarge me. Although I will probably make my arm longer!" He chuckles with the last remark and waggles his arms. "Something that made me even faster would help, and I'll be sure to stay out of your fog!"
Orik shakes his head at Yrja, ”no - my pumpkin power has the ability to enlarge, but it has not been useful in quite some time. I can rely on that magic if I need it.”
He raises his eyebrow, ”shall we use mist? Ashen path will give us a sizable advantage if that is the intent. Recall that we used it to defeat the dragon in the clocktower.”
"That is a good idea," responds Yrja. "I can provide the mist, if you like."
Orik casts a spell and grants everyone the ability to see through magical fog using ashen path.
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Yrja throws up a misty cloud to obscure the frost giants' vision, and Orik then allows you all to see through it. You begin to creep out of the Hut, practically quaking in your boots at the prospect of taking on a hen's brace of giant, blue skinned warriors, but once you step off the porch, the Hut raises up to its full height, towering over the giants. By your estimate, the giants are enormous--perhaps fifteen feet tall, and broadly built, both male and female alike. However, the Hut is at least twenty five feet of building, not counting its cruelly taloned avian legs.
Said legs work rapidly; one crushes the giant sentry into the snow, leaving a stain of blood, gore, and bile in various colors. Another scratches into the white ground, exposing dark earth in furrows. The bill of the house squawks a challenge, and then the Hut thunders towards the main group of giants. In short order, one is seized in its beak and tossed bodily, screaming above the trees and out of sight, a distant thump echoing perhaps a half a league a way. Another peck of the Hut, and a warrior is simply scissored in half. Another is crushed by the relentless talons.
At this point, the morale of the frost giants, never having gone from 'surprise' to 'attack' nor 'defend', simply descends into 'flee', as the remaining huge turquoise humanoids scream and run pell-mell from the clearing.
After that, the Hut daintily grooms its feet with its bill and vice versa, wiping away gobbets of unrecognizable giant parts from its carriage, and then settles back down on its haunches, the porch touching the snow once again, after wiggling its rear slightly to settle. A contented stream of smoke begins to pipe merrily from its slightly askew wood-and-plaster chimney.
"..."
Yrja swallows, opens her mouth, closes it, swallows again, looking a little green around the gills.
"Remind me not to ever anger the Hut, please," she says faintly, avoiding to look at the remains of the giants.
"Well. Where to, now?"
The young witch dismisses her fog cloud and looks around the clearing, trying to discern a direction to pursue.
Yrja doesn't note anything of use on the giants, but she can sense that something has been done around the Hut, farther than she can see. Just a feeling.
Dezső mirrors Yrja's reaction to the carnage. "It's rather unsettling to be bound in service to the master of a structure capable of such violence, but here we are. Is it clear to any of you what we are supposed to be doing here in Iobaria? Anyways, I will scout ahead a little bit."
Dez makes a 100 foot circle around the hut, looking for anything of interest, traps, or some idea of what direction to go.
You can't tell which way to go, but Dez has the same sense that something is out beyond your field of view. You aren't alone.
You know you're supposed to find Artrosa, and then there were clues about certain things, a Maiden, a Mother, and a Crone, that 'open' (a door? portal?) during different moon phases...or moon signs...or something.
Orik frowns, ”alright - so - Iobaria? Never been. But I do remember old maps of the place. Artrosa was a major landmark. If I were to guess, if we head that way,” and he points in a specific direction, ”we’ll run into the place we’re looking for.”
"That sounds right to me. We need to pick a direction and I trust your lead in this area, Orik."
Once the others are ready, Dez starts walking in the direction Orik indicated, walking about 15 feet in front of the party, stealthily and looking for traps, foes, or other dangers.
Yrja first does a bag check, making sure she has all she needs for a lengthy trek through the wilderness, including warm clothes, spare socks and blankets. She sighs mournfully at the weight before hoisting the pack on her shoulders - she dearly missed Momo's strong back now!
Orik and Dez take the lead, with Yrja limping behind, into the cold summer of Iobaria. While it doesn't feel like the unnatural cold that was spawned by Elvanna's machinations, it's dang cold. Unlike Irrisen, however, this is a land of forest...the wood is dense, comprising tall trees with long needle-like leaves clustered into spiral arrangements, and it feels like this forest must dwarf the Hoarwood to Orik's estimations.
High above, the branches of the pines and firs lock together, blotting out the sunlight. Below the canopy, the tree branches are thin, losing their foliage from lack of sunlight, and jutting out from the vast maze of peeling trunks like skeletal arms. A blanket of fallen needles covers the ground. Locked in the gloom and cold, the forest floor seems nearly barren, except for patches of lichen and moss that cling to the rocky soil and the lower trunks of the towering trees. There are only a few birds, although they hop about with gusto and flit in the canopy. Their chirps are one of the only bits of cheer in a land that seems to have been scraped clean of most life, like a flint shard on deer hide. You vaguely recall that Iobaria is a land of plagues, which have killed most inhabitants.
After a short while, Dez takes a sortie and sees a small band--maybe 10 or 15--of centaurs. Their breath steams in the cold and their shaggy hides show them to be inured to the weather--they have opted for light vests, while you shiver in your full parkas. They are sturdy and stocky, not like the sleek centaurs of Korthos, and they are a panoply of colors--chestnut, bay, grey, and dappled in spots like a giant leopard, with skin tones that mirror their hides. They are looking in your direction, but they haven't seen you. Their bodies do not hold postures of violence, but they are alert, if chatting a bit in low voices.
Orik starts, ”centaurs? Okay. Okay. Dez, centaurs - ecology? I don’t think they’re particularly aggressive. Right?”
Orik starts, ”centaurs? Okay. Okay. Dez, centaurs - ecology? I don’t think they’re particularly aggressive. Right?”[dice=nature]1d20+11
"Not really aggressive, true, but at times extremely territorial. They need to be respected, and it is well that we have not hunted on lands they may consider theirs."
"I think Elbrynn is right. We should greet them." Centaurs were not really in the curriculum that Mahb had taught the young witch, and once again she reflects on how far from her imagined life fate has brought her.
Dez is comfortable with the cold in a way that makes him curious and enjoys the frozen quiet of the woods, but he immediately slips back to the group when he spots the centaurs.
Dez thinks back to his voracious reading at the Lepidstadt University— does he agree with the group’s assessment of the centaurs?
Elbrynn has it; they can be territorial and stubborn. Dez' extensive book learning fills in the rest:
They value honor and the sacredness of lands, and do not take kindly to outsiders encroaching upon their territory. The fact that they are not armored may also mean that they are not a war party; although, of course, they can easily harm humanoids with their hooves. They are likely scouting.
Orik sighs, and mutters, ”alright - let’s just keep going. If they want something from us, they’ll let us know.” He keeps walking forward.
The centaurs soon notice Orik and assume a more guarded stance, rapidly forming into a wedge formation. One cups his hands and booms out something.
"Strangers! State your business in the Hoofwood!"
You can see on their faces that they look a little surprised to see you...but also not extremely happy to see you either. "Unfriendly" would cover it.
"Drat, I do not know this language, but give me a moment." A brief whispered conference with Pufos, the bat nestled into her fur hood, and a sprinkle of soot and salt on the wind. Then she cups her hand to her ear in an exaggerated movement, gesturing to the centaurs to repeat their words.
Should they do so, she first raises her empty hands to show that she is not armed, then slowly inches forward to scratch in the dirt the three statues of Artrosa, as best as she can.
Dezső follows Yrja's lead and does his best to assume a non-threatening posture.
The centaurs appear slightly unnerved by the witchery done by Yrja, but their spokesperson slaps one of the bucks who shies back. He peers at the drawing, bending quite oddly at the waist, then rises again.
The following is translated from the Iobarian by Yrja the Wise
"Mmm. Artrosa. We stay away from that cursed place," he grunts.
"Now tell us: who are you, exactly, and what do you intend to do?"
One of the bucks whispers behind the spokesman and is immediately silenced, but Dez notes the term '-ba yaga' clearly.
Dez, you are certain they would speak Jotun, Elven, and Sylvan should you speak with them in those tongues. For now, Yrja's spell will smooth things over...you hope. The centaurs do not look overjoyed at the drawing of Artrosa and the muttering of the bucks and fillies in the back, finally less audible due to greater thought of secrecy, continues for only a moment and then ceases.
Dez listens carefully to Yrja's translation and smiles in a reassuring and friendly way. He says to his companions in common, "Do any of you speak Jotun, Elven, or Sylvan? I'm embarrassed I do not, but I think they probably do. I think I heard them use the name of the one who sent us, so I think they may know how we got here. Maybe we just tell the truth? I'm assuming they are no friends of the frost giants the hut dispatched... It sure would help if they could point us in the right direction and warn us what dangers to expect."
Elbrynn smiles broadly as Rising Star opens his wings; the eagle is clearly preening solely for his audience
"Once my brother is cared for, we might talk of secondary matters; withces, witchcrat, politics. I would then also humbly express our gratitude at your forebearance given our arrival; we are truly grateful even for this small parley, and it was not our intent to trespass.
The lead centaur crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at Elbrynn.
"Elf, stay your bird. We need you to identify yourselves first. Do not defy us." A scout in the back produces a bow. "Now, to the matter at hoof. We grow weary of your lassitude. Answer, or we shall answer for you."
"Oh, they speak Sylvan? Well, why didn't you say so."
Switching to the language of fey and other nature-related creatures, Yrja turns to the lead centaur and bows.
She bows again.
Dez bows in imitation of Yrja, and uses his powers of close observation to follow the centaurs' bodily language and calculate some brief simple words that might assuage their concerns. He then, also calculating his movements to assuage, speaks some simple words in Hallit, which he knows is spoken in Brevoy (Iobaria's neighbor), in the hopes that the lead centaur (or another) might speak some. He then repeats the same statement in Common and Skald.
"We come in peace and travel to Artrosa only because Baba Yaga compels us to do so. We will do no harm to you or these lands."
:
Dez also glances towards Orik with a pleading expression, since Orik speaks Jotun...
Orik adds in Giant,
The leader of the group of scouts looks like he wants to skewer Orik on a tree and gives Yrja a bit of a flat stare, but softens his glare at Dez' words. He takes a moment to speak to Yrja somewhat jovially, and then to Orik, in the rocky growl of Jotun speech.
"This one, we like. [pointing at Dez] What did he say, female tiefling? He said something about...what? Pulled? Are you slaves of Baba Yaga?"
"Let you through! Ha! O Dromaar. You all smell of magic and Thremyran [frost giant] blood. Here is my bargain. Lay down your weapons, and speak with our chief. If he likes what you have to say, we will do our best to help you and let you 'through', as you say. If he does not..." He shrugs.
Yrja begins to grin without realizing it, turning her head to glance at Dez.
She fervently hopes that the one person among them who was willingly serving Baba Yaga will have the good sense to not say so in front of these centaurs.
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"We were here to watch for agents of Baba Yaga...and you sort of seem like those...but I don't think her agents would be so..." The head scout gestures with an expansive shrug. "Ahem, you seem to mean no harm. We'll bring you to our chieftain to decide."
As a formality, the centaurs dab each of your weapons and after a moment, Yrja's wrists, with sweet smelling unguent.
You trudge through the thick forest with the smell of horse and man, but also neither, preceding you faintly, and a few centaurs behind you besides. You can hear the scouts making short quips to each other in Iobarian and Sylvan, and occasionally one will grab some pine needles and even a green cone in a callused hand, and amazingly, chomp them down with gusto.
You walk for a good half a mile perhaps...ahead in the distance, a thin plume of smoke drifts above
the trees. Soon enough, a large clearing containing a sizable encampment appears through the trees. Broad, circular tent-huts made from hides stretched over wooden frames form a crescent around a large campfire. The muddy ground is churned with numerous hoofprints.
Throughout the camp, centaurs mill about, performing mundane tasks such as carrying firewood, filling water buckets, or roasting spitted pheasants over a pit of glowing coals. As you enter the camp, these activities stop as the centaurs shift their attention to the tieflings, half-elf, and half-orc in their midst. Soldier centaurs frown, and young foals openly gawk at you, pulling at their elder's hands.
The scouts reach the largest tent, with very obvious guards armed with pikes and curved swords. After a brief interchange, you are brought into the tent.
This tent is much larger and of finer construction than the others, and stands in the
middle of the crescent of tents, with the backside absorbing heat from the communal fire.
A powerful centaur with broad shoulders, a full beard and long mustaches, and a dark bay coat, turns to face you, having been in conference with several older centaurs.
"I am Korak Kaag, leader of the Rashalka Hoof. We're on the lookout for frost giants and Baba Yaga's agents. To be honest, we were not expecting them to attack each other, but anything is possible. Traditionally, Grandmother Crone is our enemy, but I will be honest with you, the frost giants are worse. They are cannibals," He says, spitting out the word. "Now, I have told you my name and my purpose here. Do the same and let us see where we stand."
He crosses his arms in cool expectation. You are almost certain he alone could kill you all in seconds, and that the guards outside are almost perfunctory, so great is the power that radiates off of him.
Elbrynn translates what is said in Sylvan to something comparable in Taldane. He raises an eybrow listening to the Chief discuss the frost giants ...
Bowing to the centaur leader, Yrja attempts to explain in Sylvan. "Greetings, Korag Kaag. My name is Yrja and these are my friends and associates. We fervently hope that there is no need for hostility between us. Yes, we are agents of Baba Yaga, as you mentioned, but not by our own will. Still, we must do what we can do fulfill our mission, which involves finding Artrosa." The tiefling hesitates for a moment, then continues. "I do not know if it's proof of anything, but we witnessed Baba Yaga's hut kill several frost giants, so we seem to share a common enemy if nothing else."
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"Ar-trohhh-sah. Yes, we know of it." The burly centaur scowls. "It's cursed, filled with dungeons and traps. And there are lights on the hills that will lead you astray, near each of the statues. If statues they can be told--they are as big as a titan," he says with a growl.
"I am one of the clan leaders of Rashalka--we are Voaldyn. Unlike some, we do not kill two legs on sight," he says with a laugh, then sobers. "To be honest, the soil is poor here. We barely farm. The two-legs all died of plague save for hunters and explorers, but there are ruins of the Koloran, one eyed giants who predated all of us. We make a circuit--" he traces a boundary in a rough blob--"along the Hoofroads." He chuckles. "We use 'hoof' in a lot of our words," he says with levity, then frowns again.
"Yrja, we like you. I am sure you understand--we need a little more convincing. We don't want to be stabbed in the back by two legs tonight. If you convince me, all is well, we drink kvass, I help you. If not..." He makes a little 'run along now' motion with two fingers.
Orik keeps his mouth shut, having offended people before, and tries to avoid inadvertently glowering, feeling at least respectful towards the centaur, even if he is annoyed that they can’t move on.
Considering a lot do the speech is translated, he can’t do much anyway, so he mostly takes in the sights of the centaur camp. Despite the fact that he is inured to cold weather, he’s obviously pleased that they aren’t in a boreal climate anymore.
Dezső is torn between his fascination at the centaur camp and his awareness of the group's peril. He listens carefully, through translation, to the back and forth between Yrja and Korak.
He says to Yrja, "Good job helping them understand we mean no harm. Ask him what we can do to convince them that we tell the truth."
Yrja nods at Dez, turning again to Korag Kaag. "That is very fair and understandable, great leader, and I am sorry if our kind has caused you grief in the past. Please tell us what we could do to convince you of our sincerity."