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You feel a distinct sense of subdued dissatisfaction radiate from the doll, but eventually the crone's voice sounds in your heads once more.
"So be it, but remember that Baba Yaga dislikes tattletales."
"But the way is secret, sooo very secret. Baba Yaga will tell you now. To the North, along the cliff face, there is a small cave. You have to go into the cave. It is fit for a child to crawl through, but what a surprise awaits within! There is a worm you see, a worm of blood and ice. The secret is the worm’s mouth, so you can’t kill it. You have to walk down its gullet to get to my life. But watch out, it bites!"
The crone's voice cackles gleefully within your heads as it fades slowly.
A little too slowly.
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Exiel and Rhon take up positions outside the cave while Earl creates a ruckus. Amsheagar and Purs wait a little distance behind.
Moments pass, and nothing happens.
Earl detects that there is a really big creature just beyond the cave. In fact, it appears to be pressed against the end of the short passage that the cave entrance leads to.
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Exiel ventures forth into the darkness. Moments later you hear a yelp, and then silence.
You crawl into the tunnel. It reeks in here and and a short ways in you find that the ground becomes oddly pointy and squishy, and cold. It suddenly closes around you. Painfully. And then you feel yourself lurching through space...
You take piercing/slashing/bludgeoning damage and cold damage.
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Rhon ventures forth into the darkness. Moments later, Purs and Amsheagar hear a grunt, and then silence.
You crawl into the tunnel. It reeks in here and and a short ways in you find that the ground becomes oddly pointy and squishy, and cold. Your dwarven senses inform you that this is certainly not stone, but before you can discern what it is, the tunnel suddenly closes around you. Painfully. And then you feel yourself lurching through space...
You think you hear Exiel's voice in the distance. Though it is hard to tell, you think he might be either screaming or cursing.
You take piercing/slashing/bludgeoning damage and cold damage.
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As Amsheagar shifts his form, his tactile senses heighten, and he is able to sense vibrations through the ground. He finds with some consternation that he is unable to detect Exiel or Rhon in contact with any sort of stone or earth. Instead, he detects only the immense creature at the end of the short tunnel that the paladins crawled through, still pressed against the exit.
It has only been a few seconds, but he detects no struggle either.
Earl detects the same thing.
Meanwhile, Purs completes his spell, and an elder earth elemental is called forth from the ether.
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Purs proceeds down the tunnel, the earth elemental following behind.
You think you hear Exiel and Rhon's voices in the distance. Though it is hard to tell, you think at least one of them might be either screaming or cursing.
You take piercing/slashing/bludgeoning damage and cold damage.
Your dog takes piercing/slashing/bludgeoning damage and cold damage.
What would your earth elemental do?
Through the vibrations in the earth, Amsheagar feels Purs approaching the creature in the tunnel, and then suddenly there is a cry and a yelp, and Amsheagar no longer detects Purs or his hound in contact with the ground.
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Amsheagar in his earth elemental form is too large to fit into the tunnel, but his new form also allows him to simply glide through the stone around the tunnel. His stony form dulls his senses a little, but even so he can tell that it reeks in here. A short ways in, he sees that the ground ahead is oddly pointy, and as he moves up to the anomalous ground, the tunnel shifts and... rears back!? Before him is an immense blue worm. He realizes that the creature before him must have been pressing its open maw against the tunnel's opening, and that his companions most likely walked right in.
However, strangely enough, he can neither see nor hear signs of struggling from within the worm.
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You feel a distinct sense of subdued dissatisfaction radiate from the doll, but eventually the crone's voice sounds in your heads once more.
"So be it, but remember that Baba Yaga dislikes tattletales."
"But the way is secret, sooo very secret. Baba Yaga will tell you now. To the North, along the cliff face, there is a small cave. You have to go into the cave. It is fit for a child to crawl through, but what a surprise awaits within! There is a worm you see, a worm of blood and ice. The secret is the worm’s mouth, so you can’t kill it. You have to walk down its gullet to get to my life. But watch out, it bites!"
The crone's voice cackles gleefully within your heads as it fades slowly.
A little too slowly.
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Suddenly supernaturally reminded of Baba Yaga's words, Amsheagar reluctantly allows himself to also be swallowed by the worm. He has a moment to wonder about the ignominy of a Seeker of his caliber being swallowed by a worm as the worm's maw closes on him, and sends him hurtling through a transdimensional space.
Amsheagar takes piercing/slashing/bludgeoning damage and damage.
The pathfinders' jaunt through the worm's gullet is brief, and the sound of rustling leaves reaches your ears as you find yourselves deposited one after another upon a carpet of old leaves, black with mold, and pine needles dried to a white brittleness.
The virgin trees of an old growth forest tower high into the air above, their dense canopy almost completely blocking the sunlight from reaching the forest floor. The tree trunks are a dozen feet in diameter or more but have plenty of room between them, making the forest a spacious, if dimly lit, place. A soft, crisp breeze blows through the air.
A faint trail, just visible through the carpet of leaves, wends between the trees until it reaches a quaint cottage set back between the trees. The cottage is neatly built of timber with a thatched roof that is in good repair. No light shines from the cottage’s windows, but a small plume of smoke rises from the hut’s stout stone chimney, giving off the scent of wood smoke and the pleasant aroma of baking.
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"I wouldn't say no, though I have my own healing I can use," Exiel replies.
Exiel waits to see if Purs or Rhon will heal the group by channeling positive energy. If neither does, he will take a moment to administer his own healing. Mindful of the alternative uses for his power, he does not completely heal up just yet.
Once done, he flies up behind Purs and follows him to the door, rapier at the ready.
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A short stair next to a woodpile climbs up to a veranda surrounding the front and one side of the cottage, its railing and roof decorated with intricate gingerbread woodwork, as are the shutters on either side of the cottage’s windows. The windows themselves are composed of rows of triangular panes of thick, opaque glass set into lead frames. Two comfortable looking wooden rocking chairs sit on either side of the cottage’s front door, which is itself a triumph of woodwork, complete with scrollwork along its arched top and carved images of birds and small animals happily playing.
Purs leads the way up to the front door, and as you follow him you all notice the remnants of a line of old breadcrumbs that trails up the steps and around the porch up to the front door. No one answers as he knocks and calls out, but you notice an old straw besom leaning against the railing in the corner of the porch to the left of the front door. It would probably not have drawn your attention were it not topped with a small skull with long white hair, lending it a somewhat creepy appearance.
"Ah, me old besom. Take it! It’s important, very important. Its secrets are mine to keep, but I shall tell you some. It can erase your tracks and guard you from magical detection, yes it can. It can open locks, mundane and magical, in case you forget a key. And it is also good for smacking naughty children! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Eheeheeheehee!"
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Exiel examines the curious broom with a grimace.
"Well, if nothing else, this will come in handy if we need to fight a golem."
He then considers the trail of breadcrumbs and the gingerbread woodwork.
"You know, this reminds me a little of a story I once heard... If I'm right, we might find the door unlocked and the room behind laden with sweets and pastries..."
He waits till the party is done with their preparations, then opens the door gently and slowly, with shield up and sword in hand.
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Exiel opens the door, expecting a greedy child's wonderland beyond. What greets is indeed a child’s wonderland, but of a different sort.
A skilled woodcarver has been hard at work carving and painting all manner of wooden toys, ranging from small animal figurines to lifesized mannequins with articulated limbs painted to resemble beautiful princesses, armored soldiers, and regal kings wearing crowns of gilded foil. The smaller pieces clutter tables, shelves, and even the floor. A small fireplace, its ashes cold, occupies one corner, while next to it stands a comfortably padded chair. A small table holds an assortment of small carving knives and a half-finished wooden figurine. Wood shavings cover the floor in drifts and piles.
On the far end of the room, there is another door, rather similar to the one you have just openened.
Did one of the mannequins just move, just a little bit?
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Rhon steps through the door and proceeds to look around. "This toy shop looks operational. I wonder who its proprietor is? Rhon follows up his walk around the shops interior by stopping at the far door. "It doesn't appear that the answer we seek is here shall we see what lays beyond this next door?"
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Rhon crosses the room to the door at the far end. He half-expects something to jump out from the walls or for the toys and mannequins to spring to life, but nothing of the sort happens. It appears that the room might be benign after all.
As he reaches the door, Rhon's mouth begins to water as he catches a waft of aromas that he has sorely missed - fresh baking and roasting meat. Without a second thought, he opens the door to the room beyond.
The next room houses a great cast-iron stove in one corner that keeps the room pleasantly warm, with its stove pipe extending upward through the ceiling. A plate of cookies and a platter holding a roasted hunk of red meat sits atop the stove’s cooling shelf, filling the room with a delicious aroma. A small paper placard stands next to the plate.
A table with two tall stools stands next to a door to the south, and another door exits to the east. In the far corner of the room, a child-sized wooden cage hangs by a hook from the rafters. The cage is empty, its door hanging open.
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"You know, I was beginning to think I was wrong about this place. Turns out I wasn't. A place out of a fairy-tale. But then, we do live in a world of fairies, amongst other things."
"If I remember the tale right, the food is safe to eat. It was the witch in the house that was the danger. Question is whether the witch is the one in the doll, or another awaits us somewhere in here."
With some trepidation, Exiel scans the room for magic. If he detects nothing amiss, he reads the paper placard, then moves to the next door and opens it.
"Guess we're taking turns opening the doors, Rhon," Exiel quips with a wry grin.