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"Is that a trick question?" Yrja demands, hands on her hips. "His name is Black Midnight. If you're asking about the name he bore before Baba Yaga chose him to be her Black Rider, that was Illarion Matveius. He wore a helmet with ram's horns, black armour, and rode on a black horse. Looked very fearsome and all - until he took off his helmet, and then he was just a skinny old man." Yrja crosses her arms, glaring at the witch tree. "I felt sorry for him, but I don't feel sorry for you, so you should let us pass."
"...very well, witchling. I see that Grandmother hasn't taught you your manners yet. Not that she has many of her own. Kekekeke!" The witch tree cackles and moves forward, faster than you can react, and caresses Yrja's cheek. "Such lovely flesh," she croons, "And all under the mantle of our dear Mother with the Iron Teeth."
In a flash the tree skips (!) back to the entranceway and contorts herself, twining into an arch of wood and leaves to allow passage into the depths of Artrosa. Flowers in the form of purple catkins bloom, leaving bits of fluff to wisp away into the wind.
"Pass through, children," says the willow. "Seek the Warden if you have need of her."
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Dez face twists in dismay at hearing another riddle -- his mind works on hard facts, not confusions of flowery words. But his expression turns to relief as Yrja steps forward and solves the riddle, and he shares in Yrja's memories as she evokes the scene when they met the Black Rider, and Dez reads the remembrances of old comrades in the subtle twitchings and muscle movements of her face. And Dez remembers when he first encountered Yrja, how young she seemed, and how much she has matured in the relatively short time they have traveled together. And he especially feels appreciation that her spirit, always lighter than his, has stayed intact in its essential nature after all their trials.
Dez proceeds forward and bows at the tree as he reaches the passage of her limbs. "I notice many items left behind in the twists of your trunk by past pilgrims who did not share the Grandmother's blessings on their voyage. Are there any such items that you would share with us to aid our efforts on the Grandmother's behalf in the dangerous journey before us? Please take no offense at the request, I am unsure whether your kind has any use for such items, and we all walk the Grandmother's path, so I thought it fair to ask."
"So kind of you to ask, red one. I shall answer." The witch tree's 'face' beams down from the apex of her living arch.
"..No. Touch not the baubles, lest ye join them. Now run along, run along."
Dez shrugs, says "Too bad. Farewell.", and proceeds through the entrance.
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Catkins rain down on you as you pass under the witch tree arch. You pass from cold windy sunlight into warmer, still darkness, with the chuckles of the witch willow echoing as you enter the depths of Artrosa. It's apparent to you that something happens as you pass into the dark corridor...the light and sound from outside fade in a way that doesn't seem quite natural.
Some sort of stepped planar or teleportation effect has moved you to an unknown location, perhaps deep within the Maiden's statue. If you look to where you came, it's a dead end of solid rock.
The passageway is hewn basalt and granite, perhaps thirty feet high. A faint glow permeates the place--witchlight. It's orange-yellow in hue.
After some shuffling in a completely nondescript passage of rock, you find an already open door, also made of rock. it leads to a long and twisting flight of stone stairs carved into a cramped passage of cold black basalt. The steps are made for something just slightly larger than human, causing you to descend carefully.
"This is essentially a centaur's nightmare," says Erdija, her voice quiet in the back. "Well, if it were flooding, even better." You can hear her swish her tail in agitation.
Ancient wall carvings on both sides of the passage depict wide fields filled with wildflowers and springing deer. It's not really reassuring.
You count steps, and count and count, and after a final turn, the stairs end some 500 feet below in
a large, rectangular chamber.
You can hear two rough voices arguing around the corner of the stairs, unseen.
"Gurra, she had the right to pass, you blithering ninny."
"Nonsense, Gurra, the rule is always check with Jadrenka. You blithe fool."
"Squirrel-faced ninny."
"Hen's-toothed fool."
You can see from around the corner that this chamber is also dark basal. The walls have been chiseled into an incredibly intricate display of thousands of wildflowers. You can't quite see the rest of the chamber, but two people are in here and the carvings continue.
As the group passes through the arch and the uncanny shift occurs, "Some sort of teleportation effect has moved us somewhere, perhaps deep within the Maiden's statue if I had to guess. Look behind us -- it's now a dead end of solid rock. I guess we're really committed now. Sorry, Erdija, I'm sure being SEALED in rock makes it even worse for you. But we'll find our way out again."
Yrja frowns at the mountain closing up behind them; now they had to see through whatever challenges lay ahead. As they descend the stairs, the young(er) witch complains and grumbles, and has to take frequent breaks to rest. "I didn't sign up for this kind of exercise! My legs hurt so much, ugh."
Once the arguing voices become intelligible, she whispers very quietly to her companions. "Many people don't know this, but chickens actually do have teeth. Hee hee."
Orik doesn't have any commentary to provide, other than a resigned sigh.
He points, as if to say, and trudges along, until they meet the next pair of gabbing goons.
Pointing at the others, he whispers "someone talk to them and convince them to let us pass. Or solve the riddle or whatever."
Those are voices speaking in a pidgin of Jotun and Goblin with Taldane and Iobarian words thrown in. Perhaps giants? 'Jadrenka' is an Iobarian name, you think. Seems to refer to someone of authority.
You don't see skulls or bones on the flower carvings, but you know that flowers in Iobaria are meant as a seal against death--they are planted over a grave. You start to wonder what Artrosa really is...
Those voices sound like twins, almost. Siblings.
Dez shrugs at Orik's suggestion and whispers. "I doubt it will work, but I'll try."
Dez rounds the corner nonchalantly and greets whoever is around the corner in Jotun (which he speaks now). "Greetings!"
Dez appears from behind the staircase and catches a large two headed giant woman in the process of casting a spell.
She tries not to look too surprised, but her faces both snarl at the devil-like humanoid.
"We don't think so!" the heads say in unison. "Caigreal was an idiot and so are you! Now DIE!"
[spoiler=GM rolls]
Two Heads Are Worse Than One! R1
Yrja
Giant Lady(s)
Dez
Orik
Elbrynn
"Does that ever work? You tell someone to die and they just...do?" Yrja smiles sweetly at the two-headed giant. "Now let me try it!" She raises a clenched fist, then whips her arm forward with her index finger pointing at the woman.
"DIE!"