Orik finishes his meal and takes all the rest of the cookies in a bag of some sort and follows Dezső, wiping his mouth and picking his teeth before looking embarassed.
"I'll take these for us for later. And sorry for my manners, I forget sometimes how to act around people."
Chiquq looks bemused at the kitchen raiding, but, after some surreptitious glances, snags a cookie as well. "...if this mission goes wrong and we die at least we had a decent last meal," she deadpans. She eyes Orik. "You have powder sugar on your chin... no, there..."
Chiquq gives Dez an approving nod at taking the 'special' cookie. "Let me check if there is any magic on it. Or on anything here."
Chiquq detects a faint transmutation aura upon the special special cookie.
Chiquq muses at the cookie, then taps Yrja on the shoulder and whispers to her discreetly. "This one cookie, I think it is magic. Can you tell what? Don't say anything too loud though or the burning goblin-man will yell about witches."
Yrja's eyes widen slightly at Chiquq's whispered message. Pretending to do one last sweep of the kitchen, she opens her senses to the feel of magic.
That little cookie is a spiteful cookie. If unwrapped, it will strongly compel the opener to eat it, and then suffer the effects of starvation (equivalent to Feast of Ashes) for 6 days. You could, of course, keep it in the event of using a Beguiling Gift...
...clearly that spriggan was a jerk.
"Eugh. Do NOT eat that cookie. There's bad magic on it. We might, at best, give it to someone we really, really don't like, but even so..." Yrja shudders, imagining what it would be like to feel starved for a week and not be able to sate your hunger.
As they move through the rest of the floor, she stands ready to open the last door they hadn't inspected, once the others seem to have finished their preparations.
Yes, check the last door as usual.
The cookie remains wrapped and uneaten. Dez checks the final door of the floor (the Tower does seem rather quiet after all the slaughterification of its denizens) and indeed, no one is present in this bedroom. A bed, desk, dresser, and storage chest are the main furnishings. A large mirror hangs on the wall opposite the room's only door, and two windows look down on the tower's courtyard.
It's clear from some personal items and scraps of parchment that this is Captain Hestrig Orlov's room.
Orik, cookie in mouth, checks the chest. He also searches for a password on a scrap of paper.
Orik notes that the chest has a sturdy lock. It also has rather nice woodwoses carved into it. His cookie has a crispy gingery bite and a buttery aftertaste.
Hestrig has left the password for the second ice teleporters on a note (not the ones at the end of the mirrored hallway where Ogon slept for decades). All notes are in Skald, of course.
"Take wing, sore and fly, let me see the winter sky."
She probably meant "soar". Ouch!
She has a few more scraps.
White draggon--ancestor? Why did it oppose the witches? Ugh. Need to talk to Jairess--can't share with anyone else. More snow soon. Troll needs dissiplining.
Clearly Hestrig wasn't wise enough to write in a cipher or spell everything correctly. Ah well, and now she's dead.
"Anyone open the chest?" Ogon asks. "I could burn - but its pretty, shame to destroy."
Another mirror! Yrja's first action is to check it for magic, and then turn her scrutiny towards the chest, in case it has magical alarms or traps about it.
"I can try to open the chest. Yrja, could you please cast that spell that magically guides me to success before I look for traps and before I try to disable the lock? In the meantime, someone should search the rest of the room and someone should see what’s happening on the courtyard."
Ogon strides to the window and glowers down into the courtyard.
Orik attempts to aid Dez with trapfinding.
The mirror fails to show any magical aura.
There are no traps on the chest, and Dez deftly unlocks with with a satisfying click.
Inside are--the remainder of Orik's possessions! And:
four potions that radiate magic, a pair of silver bracers traced with figures of dragons worth 250 gp, a jeweled scepter worth 175 gp, an agate worth 50 gp, and three blue quartz crystals worth 100 gp each, as well as 256 gp, 473 sp, and 894 cp.
"Haha! My stuff! Also, treasure for everyone to share! Give me a few to change out of this uh, Ice Armor, and I'll be back in business."
Orik looks at the note Hestrig wrote, "Ahh, how sad, the poor woman was trying to find her heritage. Too bad her heritage was jerky monsters. Thanks for the assist with the chest, Dez."
You notice that Orik has a nice cold iron battleaxe. He draws his bow and tests its pull, and then pats himself down. "Feels better when you're wearing your own stuff, doesn't it? Let's go, your friends might be upstairs and I've still got payback to mete out."
"It is good that you have your possessions," Chiquq observes deadpan. "Now I also need to find my kinsman."
Despite her words, she pauses to investigate the potions more closely.
Yrja beams as Dez asks for her magical assistance and hurries to comply, watching intently over his shoulder as he fiddles with the chest. For good measure, she inspects the items inside for magical auras, trying to discern their purpose and properties.
The jewelry and gems get her attention, and she oohs and aahs as she lifts them up and turns them in the light until they sparkle prettily.
Dezső smiles subtly in satisfaction as the chest opens and Orik is reunited with his gear. "Thanks for your help, Yrja. Your gear suits you, Orik." Assuming nothing else of interest is seen in the courtyard or found in the room, and once the potions have been identified and the loot gathered, Dezső nods in recognition of Chiquq's comment and stands by the door in readiness to continue. "Should we take the transporter near this room or the one near the Nymphs?"
Yrja finds: an elixir of truth and three potions of feather fall..
Orik takes one of his Usalavian coins out and flips it.”Heads, nymphs, tails, here.”
”Near here, so says this coin, if we want to trust it.”
Dezső looks at Orik quizzically. "Why would we let a coin make a decision for us?"
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Orik shrugs, nonchalantly, ”No reason, but I couldn’t think of a better way to decide. Both seem equally good to me, and if we let fate decide, there’s no reason for us to say ‘oh I knew we should’ve chosen the other,’ if it ends up that we chose poorly.” he scratches his beard, ”my sister once told me all about how you can update your ‘bay-season priors’ when trying to analyze decisions, but we aren’t near a bay, and bays aren’t a season! So I suspect that I really missed the point of her tutoring.”
He flips the silver coin again, ”Plus, it’s fun to flip coins! This is a 5 silver ustalavian ‘werewolf’. I’m sure you’ve seen them before. We have the best currency! Or at least it’s better than the Irrisean 5 silver ‘worship-witches-or-freeze-to-death coin, which just makes me sad. Why did they put so much detail into the frozen corpse coin die? Yuck. Gross.”
Dezső appears a little bewildered by Orik's explanation, although he does try to follow the particulars. "Fate? The very idea doesn't make sense. I do think some power brought us together, but I don't think that power extends its influence to the aetheric forces surrounding your coin that dictate which way it lands. While there are uncertainties that complicate our decisionmaking process, we must use reason our way using the information available to us. Perhaps it is best to use the transporter nearest us because that will avoid another encounter with the nymphs, who aren't certain to continue leaving us alone. And perhaps it is best to use the transporter nearest us because it seems to be less of a main entrance. But I'm open to other arguments."
”That’s good reasoning! Much better than mine.” says Orik, happily.
Ogon watches the conversation and shrugs. "Much talk, wasted air. Dez-red-skin has good idea. We do as he says."
His contribution given he goes to stand near, but not next to Yrja. He appears to be taking the 'protection' thing seriously.
Yrja watches the debate between Orik and Dez with astonishment and a little amusement.
"Dez is very smart, Orik. Perhaps your sister was talking about bay leaves? Those are a seasoning, after all. But. I don't see what condiments have to do with our current situation. Although I hear that some witches attempt to see the future in tea leaves. It could be something like that, but we don't have any tea, and even if we had, I don't know how to read the leaves. Hmmm."
She ponders for a moment, then brightens up.
"Oh, I forgot, these potions I found - one of them is like the one we fed Captain I-Hate-Women, and these three are good for saving you from a bad fall. You'll just float gently to the ground... unless you go jumping off a mountain."
”Remember we have them if we have to leap from the tower. That said, Chiquq is right, you badly need to move on, we need to find your friends. I just wanted to make a quick decision to facilitate that - we will go through the nearby portal, with Ogon leading the way, probably. I have some extea healing if they are hurt, now that I found my gear. Let’s hope these delays haven’t kept us too long.”
"Good. Decisions made!" Ogon leads the way to the next portal, prepares his shield and waits for someone to give the command word and activate the portal for him.
Seeing reason prevail, Dez nods with satisfaction. Once everyone is ready, Dez will use the command word and follow after Ogon, sword at the ready. "Everyone should be ready for a fight on the other side of this portal."
Chiquq just shakes her head...
"I am prepared, Dezso. Let us go..."
Orik peers quizzically at the rest of the party and then shrugs, saying nothing else.
Dez utters the command words as our heroes stand upon the portal near the late Ms. Orlov's room and receptacle for Orik's purloined paraphernalia.
You experience a brief moment of disorientation, and then the sensation of being out in the open, cold air, although you are still within the Tower.
A triangle of crossed steel wires runs between three wooden posts in this crescent-shaped room that smells strongly from the bird droppings scattered across the floor. Along the south wall, open windows look down from a dizzying height, admitting a brisk, cold wind. Two doors exit this chamber, one next to a large mirror to the west and another standing between a pair of wooden chests to the northeast.
Ravens flap to and fro in the chamber, some exiting on errands out to the frozen world.
A rather fetching blueish skinned woman stares at you, shock turning into cold fury--not that cold, as she's actually wearing some warm clothing and doesn't look as comfortable with the weather as the usual Irriseni baddie--and shouts a word of command.
In the Aerie--Round 1!
The woman drinks a potion and rises into the air smoothly.
The ravens pour from the windows and surround Ogon, Nadya, and Chiquq in a black flapping, feathery cloud of pecking and scratching.
Nadya uncorks a vial of alchemist's fire, and tosses the flask right next to her.
The ravens peck and claw!
Nadya keeps her eyes safe!
Combat Order
Blue skinned woman
Nasty Ravens (-7 HP)
Nadya
Yrja
Orik
Ogon
Dez
Chiquq
Party may post!
Orik is startled by the developments but composed himself. He drops his bow nearby and draws his warhammer as he steps south. He then grows extremely large and attempts to sweep away as many of the birds as he can.
Free action -knowedge (nature) check (reactively)
Free action - drop bow
Move action - draw warhammer
Swift action - enlarge on self
Standard action - attack with warhammer (2-handed)
”Shoo, birds!”
Ogon curses loudly and bursts into flame as the ravens assault him, but by raising his shield to protect his face he cuts off his own view!
"Why are you people always so angry?" mutters Yrja to no-one in particular as she tries to fend off fire and claws and sharp beaks.
"Why not have a nice cup of hot tea instead? And a nap? Hmm?"
She makes the twisted sign with her fingers, willing the blue-skinned woman to sleep.
Cursing, Chiquq shakes her head against the crows and takes a hurried step out of the mass of them. She waits to see if the woman falls at Yrja's strange gestures.
A swarm can move through squares occupied by enemies and vice versa without impediment, although the swarm provokes an attack of opportunity if it does so.
Dezső‘s tail pulls out a flask of alchemist’s fire and he throws it at the swarm.
Dez then takes a five foot step, sheaths his rapier, and starts to reach for his bow.
”Good shot Dezsö!” says Orik, as he holds down an enormous hand for a low five.
Dez stares at the hand for a moment and then gives it an awkward half-slap, half-shake...
Ogon staggers back, blinded, his eyelids swelling shut and bleeding.
Orik's mighty swop of the warhammer leaves ravens dead and crunched left and right, while Nadya's alchemist's fire had already burnt some (it does not smell like chicken, sadly), and Dez finishes them off.
The woman snarls at Yrja's attempt to hex, but is startled by an arrow that sprouts in her breastplate, and then her face crumples as her birds fall to the ground. "Gods, no! My friends!" She looks ready to weep with rage.
Combat Pause!