"Probably better now than finding out it's hostile mid-fight, right?"
Test Post
Wanting to escape the NeverNever but intrigued by the strange tower and its secrets, the group continues down the winding staircase. The walls change from worked fitted stone to the raw cut stone of the small outcropping that the tower is built atop. The stairs change from the wierdly suspended stair above to a more standard stair cut from the raw stone. The air is icy, cutting through clothing. For those of you that breath, your breath comes out foggy, and a rime of frost begins to appear on your clothing.
Only a few steps below the surface level, you see several strange objects like this.
They are each only about 3 inches long, and only the most clumsy or large creature would be unable to step over or around them on the stairs.
Kishan's eyes linger on the devices for a time, a somewhat puzzled look on her face. "Landmines, maybe? Can't tell what they're made of without touching them, but they have the look of iron, at least from this distance, which means they aren't from this world. Chances are they were brought over from ours, and by a mortal at that. Given all the military hardware present at the house, it stands to reason these share a common origin with those. Anyone know anything about Landmines? I think there are some that need to be stepped on to go off, while others just need to be jostled, while some have motion sensors. These look old-school, so that seems unlikely, but..."
"Best to avoid them completely either way. Even if we survive the explosion scattering that much iron around is sure to piss off anything that lives around here."
The open space ends in a floor strewn with stone rubble varying in size from 2 foot cubes down to dust. From there it continues into the hewn staircase that is closed in. The weird objects are just past that point.
"I didn't see any other ways down. If we can't get past them, this foray is finished. If they react to air pressure, we won't be able to get past without setting them off. So, we need to figure out if it's possible to move around them without activating them. If they need to be touched or stepped on, they look well spaced out for us to walk around, if we're cautious. However, if they go off, in this confined space?"
She pauses for a moment to consider.
"Three options occur to me; first, we set them off deliberately, from further up, while taking cover from the shrapnel. That option leaves the area poisoned with iron, and runs the risk of collapsing the stairwell. It also leaves the way unguarded if they are placed there to prevent something from escaping. Second, I send a pulse of air down through the passage. If they don't explode, we tiptoe past. Third... I can form a shield with my magic... I could shape it to fill the space above the mines, and we could slide down it, playground style, over the tops of the mines, to land at a point later down on the stairs."
"I doubt they react to air pressure or motion. Seems like too complex mechanic to function right around this much magic. They're probably fully mechanical and we'd need to step on them to set them off. Try your air stream."
"Best guess? To keep something in, or keep everyone out. Iron-based landmines make me lean toward keeping something in. There are better ways to keep mortals out, though admittedly, not many go traipsing through unknown parts of the NeverNever. We've already covered that Iron is anathema to the fey, but it is more than that. It is like white hot, razor sharp, radioactive waste to them. All these landmines, with all their iron shrapnel? There was a verified report from a few years ago that one of the White Counsel wizards was able to kill one of the Queen's of the Sidhe, by attacking her with a dozen disposable box-knives! You've heard the old saying, 'God made man, but Sam Colt made them equal'? Guns may have been the equalizer in the Old West, but in the NeverNever, the equalizer is Cold Iron. The way these mines are laid out look relatively easy to move past if you're man-sized, but a large creature would have a hard time squeezing past. That suggests strongly that people aren't the concern; but what is down there is large, dangerous, but not a shapeshifter - at least not one that can become any smaller."
"As for magic deactivating the mechanisms... only mortal magic does that. I've seen plenty of Sidhe use cell phones or computers without trouble."
As she talks, she gathers her will, getting ready to send a pulse of air down the stairwell.
"We'd best move back to the landing; if the mines go off, even if I am shielding us, the pressure wave could end up launching us out of here like the bullet from a barrel."
Once back at the debris strewn floor of the tower, she turns back to face down the passage. Focusing a shield through the charms worked into the handguard of her sword, with her other hand she gathers up the air and moves it down the passage in a slow but steady stream. The goal is not to knock over or disturb any of the mines, but just to shift the air around them, to see if changes in air pressure or movement set them off. If that does nothing, she follows it up with a short, tightly focused burst of lightning. The bolt flies down the passage, not making contact with the walls of the stairwell, the stairs themselves, or the mines. However, if the mines have infrared or heat sensors, the plasmafied air from the lightning bolt should be more than sufficient to activate them.
Aaron nods along with Kishan's analysis.
"Pretty much what I was thinking. These are child's play for anything normal sized to pass through, but there are some big creatures in the NeverNever. Any mythical creature you can think of probably has a representative here, even if they aren't exactly as you might expect them to be."
As the air moves past the "mines," you wait in anticipation, hearts racing. Well, those of you who have hearts. Nothing stirs within. Then the sizzle and crack of the electric bolts zigs down the tunnel, disappearing.
As the blue white light disappears, you hear a deep, resonant bellow from below, something between a cow lowing and a foghorn.
The foreign iron objects make no response to your probing.
"...I don't know why, but something tells me those are for whatever made noise." Julian exclaims as he points the shotgun at the landmines.
He loosens his grip and paces back and forth, waving the weapon around haphazardly as he speaks. "I'm past the point of freaking out, and I'm just kind of like... accepting how eff'd up this whole thing is. It's wonderful now that I've accepted it. I've got a sword-swinging witch, a Dragon-Man and a cop marching me down the yellow brick road. I'm in some weird ass Dungeons-and-Dragons-meets-World-of-Darkness LAIR, my family's dead, but surprise-- they weren't my real family because I'm nOT EVEN REAL-- this whole night is real f&+#ed, but you know what, I'm fine. I'm totally fine. Whatever that was down there-- whatever you are down there, just know-- I'm fine!"
He gets a better grip on the shotgun and turns a bit more modest.
"Just...just let me go through The Stages."
"Well, we have to go down to get out. Besides, maybe we can kill it or send it away."
"Well, we have to go down to get out. Besides, maybe we can kill it or send it away."
"Well... that is different. Sounds like the offspring of a cow and a tugboat. And apparently it didn't care for the noise I was making. Decision time; seems whatever it is, it knows we're here now, and that changes things. If we want to leave, we're on the ground floor. We just need to walk out the doors, across the frozen lake to that ship. It is a landmark I know; I've been there before. I can lead us back to Boston from there easily enough. However, exploration and confronting an unknown creature in a confined space are two different things. Regardless, I am for pressing ahead. I want to know what this thing is, and why a door to this tower was sitting in my town. It might give us a clue to the mystery surrounding Julian as well."
She gives everyone a look, "I am needed to get you all home again, so I will not part company with you here. If you want to leave, I will take you, and return here to investigate as I am able. What are your thoughts?'
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Giving a sigh, Jarrod checked his shotgun one last time before nodding. "Unfortunately, against my common sense, I have to agree with you," he told Kishan. "When I moved to Boston, regardless of rhyme or reason, it became my home, and I will do everything in my merely mortal power to defend it. Whatever this thing is, ghostie or goblin or wee little beastie, it has a way to get to innocent civilians all too easily. I cannot let that happen."
"I had planned on being the one to go first, but I suppose I should ask; were something to happen to me, can anyone else open a way back to the real world?"
"If not, then I suppose the only option were I for some reason to be unable, would be to climb back to the top of the tower, and use the door leading back to the ruins of Julian's house. If John was still with us, this would be easier."
"I don't think I can. This sword has some weird abilities but I don't think it can slice portals into and out of the NeverNever."
"But I think I should go first any way. I've got the toughest hide of us, and the best senses. I have the best chance of seeing trouble before it strikes, and surviving it if I get hit."
"I think the detective should bring up the rear, being more comfortable at range, with either you, Kishan, or Julian if you're feeling up to it right behind me."
"I'll go second. I can potentially contain magical threats. Julian seems capable, but with Aaron in front, I think his talents might be redundant. Mr. Jackson should go next. Should someone try to pull the "last in line" tactic against us, I think Julian appears the more durable of the two. I suggest we each go past the mines one at a time, so that everyone else is clear of the potential blast radius..."
"Your call, you have a lot more experience in this are than I do Warden."
Aaron carefully steps over the strange, almost winged objects. He makes his way forward, spiraling down the stone, feeling the cold, the steps slightly slippery but not challenging.
Each of his companions follow behind, one at a time making there way over the booby trap. Aaron gets far enough down that everyone is past the bombs, or whatever they are. Aaron scans for trip wires, trick steps, anything tricky. He completely fails, however, to look for or anticipate the small old man riding a giant chicken that awaits him around a turn on the staircase.
Imagine, if you will, a 4 foot chicken, not quite black, more of a deep rich chocolate brown. Beautiful. Prize winning. Drumsticks to die for.Instead of a red crest, it has more of a punk rock Albert Einstein kind of hairstyle.
Riding this strange beast is a child sized old man. A halfling? A gnome? He has a long white wizard's beard and wears a blue skullcap that makes it difficult to tell if he bald or not. His eyes glow or shine deep blue. He wears a red robe with a blue sort of corset or girdle.
He holds a four foot ash staff, one end of which has a Rambo style survival knife lashed to it, forming a sort of spear. Incongrously, he appears to wearing a necklace woven from Jack Links Jerky bags.
He bows his head respectfully.
"Zyczenia wojownicy, a także przyjść do Białej Wieży. Co to jest, że szukacie? Dla mamy wiele do zaoferowania: spokój, ochronę, wojny, zniszczenie. Nasze paleniska spala ciepła dla tych, którzy by się z zimna, ale spala gorąca nawet dla tych, którzy naruszają nasze sanktuarium."
Aaron is a bit taken aback by the creature's appearance, but after a second close look recognizes the basic form from one of his books.
He bows to the Domovoi, and translates its first statement before replying.
Reply (translated from Polish for everyone else' benefit): "We came for sanctuary, of a sorts, but honestly the only reason we ventured this deep in the tower was curiosity. We wanted to know what required such security on the stairs and doorway in the mortal world."
Domovoi are house spirits, spirits of the hearth. They are generally small fey, literally "little people" in exactly the way that the greater fae are not. They are generally keepers of the home, bringing good luck to tidy industrious houses. They enjoy gifts of food. A domovoi might expect the family of a home to leave some extra food out for them. If treated well, they can be counted on to defend the home from vermin and disease, but if they or their house are neglected, they can take on an aspect more like a poltergeist.
Many stories about them involve them taking the form of an elder member of the household, or an ancestor, or a family pet.
"Hoo, hooo, hoo. Curiosity killed the kinder. Or was that the Kemmler? Curious killers....curios...Who's fault is that? Yes, well. This is a fault of a sort, a fault in the spaces between There and Here and That Other Place, The Beyond. Do you know the Beyond? I smell the salty brine of your sword probing the Held who is above...Probably not, the Beyond is more a secret for mortals, we don't tell them such things. Curiosity killed the Strafbattalion in that case."
He seems distracted, or at least distractable. This next bit he seems almost to sing, possibly to the tune of Gilligan's Island
"But come below and you will see, the path of a fateful trip...make no move to harm the hosts or you will feel the nip
The chicken clucks counterpuntally. The domovoi turns his mount and moves slowly futher down the stairs, his voice echoing strangely from these old stones.
As the host and his chicken-beast move on, Kishan turns to her companions as the collect at a safe point below the mines, "Well, that was unexpected."
"A house spirit? 'Domovoi' in the slavic regions, which is where it sounds like he's used to. They are usually considered part of the Summer courts, which leads one to wonder what they are doing here."
"Let's follow; cautiously. A few words about fairies; first, don't call them fairies. It's like calling a human ape or animal. It might technically be accurate, but insulting nonetheless. Second, don't make any deals. Bargains and entrapment tend to be more of a high Sidhe thing, but they all do it to one extent or another. Think of the tales of Leprechauns or Rumpelstiltskin for examples. The fey all believe in balance, so if you offer them anything, or bring a gift, they'll feel obligated to return the favour, but then what they consider a gift might not be what you consider to be a good thing. Same thing goes if they offer you anything; decline, politely, or they will expect you to be obligated to return a gift of equal value. Guess wrong as to what they think their gift or yours is worth, and you may cause terrible insult. Last, don't eat or drink anything here. Fey food has unpredictable and often intoxicating effects on mortals."
Aaron agrees with Kishan's assessment.
"They're usually friendly, but I wouldn't go so far as to call them cautious. Piss them off and, well, there's a reason the 'Poltergeist' series is horror."
He follows the Domovoi.
Still in Polish, with his head cocked back toward you as the chicken continues down the stairs: "Worry not about me, Mortal. I am not a noon-time-killer, or even mid-night. There are no mines here. Just rock and ice now. No gold on this side of the Forest Door. You bear no taint of the Enemy, and so you are welcome enough here."
"Who- Who is 'The Enemy'? and what does this place have to do with me and my family?"
"The Enemy is more of a name, really. You saw one of them up the stair, I can smell it's ichor on your friend's brand. The Enemy are Beyond the Gates. And you, like I, are a guardian. A Guardian of the Way. This Way has been important to your people for...I think you would say thousands of years. While the cycles are important to me, the numbers do run together. You are Made. I think you have come to know this. But if you want to understand, you should talk to the White One. He was...is...a mortal, a man. He can help you to understand this place if he so desires."
"Frog guy? The Leeshee. He lives on the other side of the Forest Door, in the old forest. Come ahead and you will see..."
He continues on a few turns of the stairs before letting out a loud shrieking whistle, the kind a football coach or a hog caller might make.
Almost immediately you hear that same cow foghorn noise, almost on top of you. It feels like a pressure on your chest as much as in your ears.
The stairwell opens into a large room, perhaps 30 feet across, roughly carved from raw stone, and old. The room smells of manure, but no unpleasantly. Standing in the room, facing you menacingly, is a massive bull, it's head higher than yours, its horns seeming to fill the room.
The Domovoi and his chicken ride right past the bull, calling back, "You should probably wait here while I talk to the White One. Lucas there doesn't love visitors."
He rides right out of the room into a hallway opposite.
Lucas glowers.
Aaron waves at the bull.
The bull snorts and huffles.
"That's a rude sentiment for an herbivore." Aaron retorts.
Whatever bull language is called
"You understood that? She looks at the bull quizzically for a second. She opts to go with polite. This being the NeverNever, there was always a chance of this being Nandi, or related to him.
She gives the beast a modest bow and greets him, "बधाई एक सम्मानित."
"Yeah. Was it not speaking English? Honestly I have a hard time telling with the non-human languages."
"Also I don't think he's interested in conversation. He said he'd enjoy gutting us and rooting around in our entrails."
"There's a joke to be made here somewhere, but I'm all out of spoons."
The bull snorts loudly, fire from it's nostrils, and charges a few steps toward you, nearly all it can do in such a confined space. Then it turns to its left, revealing long muscular flanks and finally turning its back to you as it returns to the other side of the room and turns to face you, taking in your reactions.
"So, how is it, warriors, that you come to the White Tower? Do you seek to pass to the forest beyond, or to join the Knights, or have you come simply to find a death worthy of warriors? For passage, there is a price, for the Knights, there is a test, but death, death I will grant freely. Speak quickly or enter battle, before the White One returns, keeper of the Forest Door."
"Honestly, we came here first out of expedience and econd out of curiosity. I don't know anything about a forest, or these Knights you're talking about, and I'd rather stay alive for at least a while longer myself."
"If you attack, I will defend myself with steel, but otherwise I have no desire to fight you."
"How sad, to wait for decades to eviscerate whatever comes down those stairs, only to have it have no desire to fight you, or even to know what you are or where it is."
"Sorry about that, honestly. Would it make you feel better if you did explain it? Maybe it would change our minds."
"No, I will not rob Giewont of his tale. Continue on, if you wish, or wait here for the Chicken Man to return.