The hut is 10' off the ground. Perhaps the doll levitated down to the ground, since there is no ladder or other apparent way up or down.
Jani's examination of the defeated doll uncovers a piece of pale blue quartz inside its chest, carved into the shape of an intricate snowflake. Additionally, they find a tiny, wicked-looking dagger (non-magical) and the doll's strangely-detailed eyes.
The porcelain crone’s eyes are scrying devices, no doubt allowing the white witches of Irrisen to observe the entire length of their border through the eerie sentinels’ views.
The snowflake is the doll’s soul focus, containing the doll's soul.
You would estimate that, in the right market, the snowflake is worth 1,000 gp as an art object alone.
The goblins, recovering their senses after the battle, follow Jani's inspection of the doll, cringing, wailing, and scampering about: "Noes! Noes! Oh noes! Help! Save poor gobbos from the Witch Queen! She knows... Baba Yaga will come after us!"
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Jani takes the stock of their crossbow and smashes the head of the doll repeatedly, hoping to destroy the scrying eyes.
The snowflake they pick up and suggest it needs to be taken with them to study or sell.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"We must away! This doll is a scrying device, therefore we may be discovered! Finish your examination of the hut quickly! !"
-Posted with Wayfinder
Perhaps by lifting someone up, you peer inside the hut and find it starkly empty except for a single, doll-sized chair. (Nothing detects as magical.)
Jani smashes the scrying eyes, much to the relief of the goblins, who are running around only half-mad.
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"If those eyes are used by the witches of Irrisen to guard their border, then they saw us escaping. We need to hurry and get to the rendezvous point before they send an ice troll or something else less friendly after us."
Herman starts for the border again, looking over his shoulder from time to time, hoping not to see any army of flying monkeys, or some such coming at speed.
The goblins push and cajole the party to move quicker, even offering Herman extra rations and a nice story if only he will move faster! The only thing that seems to keep the fleet goblins with the party now is their cowardice, but they say, "Winter wolves'll eat us all! Slow first! Hurry! Hurry!"
Hurrying as fast as you can through the ever-darkening woods, pursued, you are sure, by a series of terrifying wolf howls that erupt closer and closer to the party. Eventually, many howls erupt at once, seemingly in great anger, but do not come any closer, and slowly recede from the now-sprinting party, almost ready to collapse from exhaustion. But, it seems that you have left Irrisen behind and crossed into the easternmost region of the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, a barren and well-defended land called Hagreach. Still, there is a almost-tangible sense of relief in the air, and the cold seems somehow less biting.
Relieved, your instructions indicate that you should expect no more trouble as the castellan of Trollheim - Freyr Darkwine, also the commander of the Blackravens - has given his blessing for you to escort your captives through this land and to the extraction team. The map indicates a Blackraven way station along the trackless route to Trollheim where you may rest and recuperate before the last leg of their journey. (The Blackravens are warriors and rangers who defend the area against incursions from Irrisen.)
As expected, the woods open to a clearing where a large, grass-covered mound, like a small oblong hill, dominates the area. A stout wooden door is set directly into the side of the mound, while a thin trail of smoke rises from the very top. Immediately to the south is a wooden horse stable, all of its doors closed. (Still further south is a small outhouse.)
As you approach, a powerfully-built Ulfen warrior, battleaxe slung on his back, comes out of the mound-longhouse and greets you warmly, ”Friends! I am Enrik Ironjaw, present commander of this Blackraven hall. You are brave warriors all, that you should have escaped the Winter Witches! I had been told to expect you, but I feared you would never survive, and was all but sure that the winter wolves had made a feast of you at the last… Come, honored guests, into our hall and tell us of your journey from the beginning to now – over roasted turkey, stewed potatoes, and much spiced wine to drive the cold from all hearts!”
Enrik pauses and looks at the goblins, ”We have made a secure place for your … companions. Let them feast on their rations and we shall supply fresh for the last leg of your journey on the morrow.”
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Disappointed that they didn't stay to battle the wolves, Storn's sour mood brightens considerably upon being introduced to Enrik.
"Hah! Hátíð kappi fyrir matarlyst stríðsmaður er! Well met and please don't kill our goblins despite the temptations."
Enrik laughs at Storn's request, and says "Ah, forgive me, my friend from the north - I only know a few words of Hallit... 'Móttökur', 'welcome'. We speak Skald here, and many speak Taldane, as well, of course. But, you should have much in common with our priest, also a cleric of Gorum! Just resist the temptation to kill each other in some ritual battle."
Enrik's laugh seemed a little forced.
You realize that Enrik Ironjaw is only feigning friendliness and that something is wrong.
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Storn continues laughing with Enrik.
"Right! I forgot we had crossed the border. I will be delighted to meet your cleric and compare tallies of necks hewn in Our Lord in Iron's name. Your hospitality is appreciated. Where will the goblins be kept?"
As the group gets ready to head in, Storn leans down by Herman and claps him on the back. "You'll have to tell twice as many tales, Halfshanks - and maybe share a song for our fine hosts, eh?"
With that he leans in and whispers as quietly as he can.
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Like many halflings after a long march, Herman is ready to tuck into some delicious grub. He only half-listens as the man makes his introduction, but he is a bit disturbed that this man doesn't speak Hallit. Herman just assumed they all spoke, dressed and washed like Storn.
to see if indeed it's okay for them to speak Skald here and not Hallit.
Before you go in, Blongy discretely pokes Wuliem to get his attention, then nods slightly towards the longhouse, makes a gesture with her hand probably indicating flame or rising smoke, and winks.
Enrik Ironjaw invites you in and introduces you to Ulgra, cleric of Gorum, a tall, blond woman with a battle scar on her cheek sitting on some steps that lead to a hatch in the roof . She gives Storn a long look up and down before giving an enigmatic smile. He then shows you the storeroom that comprises the east end on the longhouse , which has been emptied except for some pails of water, empty buckets, and piles of hay for sleeping. "We can put your charges in here. We cleared it out so they can't do much damage, and there is a strong lock on the door."
To your side is an armory, and there is a long, wide hall lined with trophies from the Blackravens' many years of battle with the monstrous forces of Irrisen.
{ooc]She was just pointing at the longhouse, hoping you would reciprocate by helping to burn it down.[/ooc]
"Who say anything about good idea?" Blongy responds back, with a puzzled look.
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Herman looks a bit troubled when Storn shares his suspicions. He casts Message cantrip and shares the concern quietly with the others.
Herman begins a song about treachery toward guests that he remembers from Cheliax, singing the melody sweetly, strumming his mandolin, and keeping a watchful eye out on the Blackraven's.
The cleric stands up suddenly at the incantation, but then smiles slightly and relaxes. "Ah, well, if you had something to say privately to your party, perhaps the lieutenant and I will finish preparing the meal."
Enrik nods his head and says, "You will secure the goblins before you come to the table?" Pausing, he adds, "You'll have to forgive us: the Castellan is a long way from here and seems to forget that good things do not come from Irrisen." The two then make their way down the trophy hall and around the corner to the kitchen and mess hall.
Jani isn't quite sure what to make of it, sense they - especially the chaplain - didn't give them a lot to work with. They still don't feel that everything is quite right. Maybe it is just the animosity of the two for their Irrisen foes, here represented by the goblins?
Wuliem guides the goblins into the room and, seeing that Fevva is eying the other goblins suspiciously, decides to follow Enrik's suggestion and provides each of the goblins with their promised extra rations.
The lock seems secure and would be additionally hard to open from the inside.
The rest of the party heads down to the mess hall, past the trophies, and can be seated around the table with Enrik and Ulgra. The roasted turkey and stewed potatoes are delicious, especially after days of marching through the cold and subsisting on nothing but trail rations, and the wine is heady. After a short bit, the two give each other a glance, and Enrik says, "Is your friend - I apologize, I did not catch his name - the tiefling, not hungry? Ulgra could fix him a plate and cup and take it to him?"
You hear footsteps on the roof.