William feels the sweat cover his brow as the rifle is trainer in kne of the soldiers. "Take the knife away, come on... You have your target there..."
One of the men nods at Fang, "You are Outlander. We require your presence at the Pale Tower. The Mistress, she wish to speak with you and your companions. Are they, too, there, in store? Have them come out. Then we will not need to trouble these nice villagers."
The falling snow seems to slow as Fang prepares his response.
"And if I say no?" says Fang, clearly already knowing the answer.
"If you say no, we will have to compel you. And all of this nice snow will be sullied..."
The men move closer, attempting to pin Fang against the wall of the building. But the other guards maintain their discipline, keeping their hold on the boys.
They don't seem willing to be the first to deadly violence, but they certainly seem willing to be the second, third, and fourth.
"Well, you will try to compel me, and then I will have to speak thunder and make you all disappear, and no one wants that. You should all just go someplace where the world is less cold. It would help you get proper perspective on this situation." says Fendir as he sets down the pack he was carrying and awaits the inevitable.
The men raise their metal shields into defensive positions and move toward Fang with their swords leveled at him, clearly about to attack.
"Alright, I have a different idea." whispers William, before kicking the door open and striding in the square, his face as disdainful as only a colonial Englishman can be, rifle pointed at the man who spoke.
"Alright, you primitive screwheads, listen up! We have places to be, you're making us late and that sorry excuse for a tea made me irritable. Nadya, you idiotic sow, haven't you learned your lesson? I should have burned some of these huts when I had the chance! As for you, Tin Man, is this supposed to coerce us? Pointy sticks and knives? Taking these wretched peasants hostage, like we care in the slightest? How about you give us a reason to leave this stinking pile of hovels with you, rather than just shooting you down?"
"D@mn you white man, I was handling this!" said Fang as William burst out of the building. He then added "I won't snap the spine of anyone who leaves right now. Otherwise, you'll have to learn how to crawl to move for the rest of your days."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You want to talk to us, we want to talk to you. These people aren't ours ...killing them only kills your monarch's subjects. Let's talk."
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The guardsmen remain defensive, but are taken in by Digger's de-escalation. One seems to wish to continue their aggression, but his seargeant yells him down.
The man moves toward you, keeping his men between the hostile Fang and himself. "You wish for talk, we talk. Is better maybe talk at Pale Tower, where we have creature comforts, out of blowing snow. If you agree, we will escort you there... If not,... then we might need to go the way of the spine snapper..."
Fang looks to the others to gauge their interest in going to the enemy's stronghold.
"Feh. I hope the comforts are better than this sorry excuse for a village."
Without abandoning his disdainful countenance, William rests the rifle. "Let's get this over with, shall we? I have business elsewhere I wish to attend to."
In a quiet voice that hopefully can't be overheard
"Is it really a good idea to go to their headquarters? If it comes to violence we're going to have little chance there"
"At least let's get them out of the village. We can ambush them on the way or deal with the Pale Tower on our terms."
"That seems so very dishonest and dishonourable. No wonder these barbarians conquered us"
Naajy just nods his head
"As obviously new we are to this area, forgive me if my questions are rude. May I ask who I'm talking to?"
The man to whom the others have clearly been deferring steps forward, though still with a screen of his underlings between you and him.
"I am Volan Sertane, Seargeant of the Guard of the Pale Tower. I am entrusted with keeping order in this wood, and am servant to the mistress of the Pale Tower. You will come with me."
The guards move to surround you, assuming you are willing to move with them.
The people of the town seem afraid even to whisper. Nadya grabs both of her boys as the guards release them. With the two boys faces buried in her furs, she silently mouths "thank you."
They march you out of the town as they don horn frames on their feet similar to what you might know as snow shoes.
Two of the men mount a dog sled and speed off, clearly going ahead to bring word of apprehending you.
Using the shoes, the guardsmove more easily through the deep snow. You expect difficulty in keeping up with them, but some strange force seems to keep you from sinking into the snow as much as you might expect.
William can hardly stop a smile from blossoming on his face as he shoots a glance at Nadya. But the warmth he feels at protecting the children doesn't quell his rage at the sergeant.
"Unless you have a better idea" he addresses his companions in English, cold, poisonous fury oozing from his voice "I would like to kill this human garbage. Show this witch that we are not easily intimidated. And rid this Golarion of one who would threaten kids."
"I am not a violent person by nature. And won't it endanger the village if the guards sent to get us don't return? Perhaps it would be better to go with them to visit these witches and talk with them?
But we must stick together no matter what. If the rest of you wish to kill these guards, we will help"
"Oh, they will return." growls the doctor, unheard hatred in his voice. "As soon as we throw the sergeant's head at the feet of the witch for the nerve of moving against us. Barbarians like these only understand overwhelming force and shows of strength."
"What are you saying, white man?"
"I'm saying they threatened a child. I was too late to stop a massacre, once, in Bengal, and it will be stuck in my mind until the day I die. There was this large, beautiful banyan, corpses strung from it like a deranged Christmas tree, mothers dangling next to their children, and..."
William bites his lip, drawing blood at the memory.
"The other village tried to put up a fight when the Corps came to investigate. We put them down like the rabid dogs they were. That's why I say we need to look strong, to put righteous fear in these medieval folks. It's dog eats dog here, and we need to be the apex predator. We need to bring, as a gift, the head of the one who dared challenge us."
With a sigh, he tries to regain his composure, bringing one hand between his unruly hair. "If you don't want to fight, I won't pick one by myself. I'm not suicidal. But I think we should."
Sharp winds whistle across this stark white plain, stinging the eyes along with the near-blinding rays of the reflected sun. A great eruption of frozen ice rises in the distance—an imposing pale tower crowned with icicles spearing into the sky. Seemingly born of the land itself, an unbroken circular wall of ice guards the tower’s base, with no means of entrance visible. High above, a large gash opens in the tower’s bowl-like crown, ringed in icy spikes and split by a massive plane of ice
resembling an inverted crescent moon.
"Well, I won't say it doesn't look impressive. How do we get in?"
"Follow the guards in?"
A trampled path of snow, heavily tracked by footprints and sled trails, ends abruptly at an opaque wall of ice. Carvings and ancient glyphs depict only the semblance of a gateway on its surface.
The outer wall of the tower is 25 feet of smooth ice that looks almost impossible to climb without equipment. Three guards, all similarly clad to your escort, look down from the top of the gate house.
"Sertane, what are these people you bring to the pale tower."
Volan Sertane, the sergeant of your escort, shouts back, [b]"Hush Adom. You have no business questioning us. I have brought these outsiders to meet the lady of the tower. Now open the cursed gate.
At that, the man, apparently Adom, disappears behind the walls. The gate melts away like ice in August, and behind it you see a portcullis that is also somehow made of ice. The portcullis slowly rattles upward, revealing a courtyard full of blowing snow beyond.
You are lead into the courtyard beyond. A massive ice sculpture of a dragon dominates this open courtyard, standing with raised wings upon a dais of solid ice. Seven squat shacks sit along the inner wall, with several dogsleds stored outside. Between them, four ice chutes descend from the battlements of the outer wall. To the west, large double doors studded with icicles lead inside the Pale Tower itself, just beneath an overhang of sharp icicles dangling from above.
Standing next to the sculpture of the dragon is another of the treelike humanoids you fought on the other side of the portal. Bark skinned, long nosed, wearing only a hairy fur around its waste, holding a massive axe. Wait, it isn't an it. Given its lack of shirt, it is clearly a she.
The gate refreezes as if drawing moisture from the air, and the portcullis lowers behind you.
"Well, ok. That happened."
Fang makes a gesture clearly meant to ward off evil as he joins the group in entering the edifice.
Digger makes a different gesture.
Naajy is obviously incredibly impressed by the display of magical prowress
[i]"I HAVE to get these people to accept me as a student. They have so MUCH they can teach me. I wonder what I'll have to do in order to prove myself worthy? I wonder if there is ANYTHING that I know that they do not, anything that I can use to trade with them"[/i[
He then goes into the fortress
William is just as impressed as Naajy, but his reaction is different. His analytical mind takes in the details of everything that happened, trying to formulate an early theoretically model of magic.
Large creatures, vaguely anthropoid with stocky legs to resist their own weight. Their skin suggest camouflage, their build pursuit predation. The trick at the gate, as well as the control of ice, points to an apparent violation of the Second and Third Principles of Thermodynamics. Where did the energy come from? How do they store it?
He follow after the others, suddenly worried that the revolver in his pocket won't be enough to protect him.
The guards continue on through the courtyard, past the dragon ice sculpture and to the tower proper. The door to the power is covered in jagged spikes of ice, but it opens at your approach. Steamy air fills the inner gallery beyond, emanating in lazy wisps from a bubbling pool recessed into the floor of a raised dais surrounded by six pillars of ice. Four foggy mirrors hang from the walls near ice sculptures of helmeted pike-wielding warriors.
The guard sergeant directs you to two doors set in the walls, and you find that they lead to open latrines with warm water flowing through troughs, almost like a Roman toilet. They will allow you to use the facilities privately one at a time, but not in groups.
Once you are refreshed from your journey, they direct you to a side room. The floor here is carved in an intricate glassy pattern of striated, crystalline ice covers the tiled floor in this open alcove, illuminated by a soft, blue light. You step onto the pattern as directed and the sergeant intones, "A gathering within the hall, take one, take us all.” Your stomach lurches as the room shifts and you find yourself in a different room entirely. A crescent-shaped dining table occupies this Y-shaped chamber, while two large mirrors on the north and south walls create the illusion of an even larger space. Twenty feet overhead, an immense chandelier of ice crystals hangs from the ceiling. To the east, rounded steps access a short hallway, flanked by twin ice sculptures of women entwined with trees holding ice-carved tree limbs, creating an elaborate archway. Translucent, glasslike double doors are set in the hall’s north and south walls. To the west, two alcoves stand between three windows providing an amazing view of the wintry landscape outside the tower.
A woman awaits you; she steps forward and introduces herself, "I am Captain Hestrig Orlov, and you are the outlanders I've heard so much about. I suspect that we cannot end this conversation as friends, but I am curious to hear what you have to say. Tell me of yourselves. What is your purpose here?" Orlov is a massive woman, at least 6'4", with blond hair and a sword in hand nearly as long as she is. She looks like something out of a Wagnerian fantasy.
"We are simply strangers in a strange land." offers Fang.
William looks stunned by the sudden appearance of the warrior woman, and taps on Digger's shoulder, trusting the boy's tongue more than his own.
"My name is Major Naajy Singh, of the Indian Dogra Regiment. This is my friend Haamid. We are strangers in your world, come here from another place.
I am fascinated by what you've done here. How does one apply to learn from the masters here? I have some knowledge myself, knowledge that is much different from what you have. While your power and knowledge is obviously far superior to mine, perhaps I have a thing or two that I may teach you in exchange for your teaching me"
Orlov smiles a cold smile, "Major Naaji, the power and knowledge you see here is the power of the Jadwiga. The Jadwiga do not share knowledge and power with peasants such as you and I. While I have my own small bit of power, it is nothing compared to the daughters of Baba Yaga. You say that you are strangers, from In-Di-An Dog-Ra. I suggest that you return to there. Here you will find only an icy death."
"See, the thing is, ma'am, that where we're from isn't quite so easy to get to. You could say we have no idea where we are and how we got here. Perhaps someone of your magnificence would know better how."
"Captain, I beg your pardon, but I'm wondering why the order was given to your soldiers to go fetch us from that deplorable excuse for a hamlet, if we are but peasants."
"I've gotten used to the darned barbarians calling me names, but I don't see why I should stand for it here"
"I'm sorry, but you seem to have made a mistake. I am NOT A Shudra nor a Vaishya. I am of pure Brahmin blood. I am, in fact, the son of Marahajah Pratap Singh"
"Why don't we just leave? It's clear that they do not want us here." offers Fang as he tries to play peacemaker.
The massive woman seems to loom even larger as she says, "It does not matter what titles you may answer to in your homeland. Here in Irrisen,, you are not Jadwiga, and thus have no standing a majajaras or what you have. Also sad is that I would prefer you to go home, but my mistress has demanded that all outsiders be kept here lest they be allies of the missing Rider. I think it may be best to dispose of you." She draws a massive sword, nearly 6 feet long and longer as you realize that it isn't just your impression; she is actually growing larger, towering to nearly 10 feet before your eyes.