”But if I use magic to teach them a lesson, wouldn’t it make me like them, since I’m attacking someone who can’t defend himself?” Anastasia asks. ”And I have no interest in clobbering people over the head with big sticks or stabbing people with sharp objects. I think it’s a horrible thing to do.“
Einar cocks his head and looks at Anestasia, "Some one attacks you or yours and you defend yourself with enough force causing them to see the error of their ways." He shrugs his shoulders. "If that makes you like them, so be it. I wouldn't loose sleep over it."
Einar’s matter-of-fact attitude takes Anastasia aback. ”I..guess so. You’ve given me a lot to think about. “ She answers honestly. ”If the other party starts a fight, then he deserves whatever happens to him, I suppose.”
"I'm not so sure about that - why do the Bourgeoisie only care about how much they can exploit the proletariats? Are they all inclined that way? Or rather has all that profit they were making made them turn a blind eye to the working conditions?" Dimitri replies.
Crummock sighs sadly.
"'Tis true that when evil abounds, it takes a verra exceptional man to seek a different path... many find it easier to give in to the evil, and revel in the power that it brings, at the expense o' the innocent. However, not everyone who accumulates power is like that."
"And that coming from the person who's raised me from the dead several times over? And created his own private Eden? Really, there are more powerful beings then you?"Dimitri laughs.
Crummock nods soberly.
"Indeed there be. Some are ascended mortals, some are angels and demons that have accumulated enormous personal power, and others arise from exceptionally powerful zeitgeists. Many consider them to be gods; some are friendly, some could not care either way, and some are irredeemably evil."
"We'd need to work out the logistics of transporting materials over." Dimitri muses over the issue."I know you can transport people across planes - can you transport concrete, granite, mortar, paints and other building materials? Or do you have ways on producing large quantities of building materials on the spot?" Dimitri asks Crummock.
Crummock scratches his chin thoughtfully.
"I can take several hundred pounds o' gear across with me, right now; for a massive order, I could arrange for a Gate to allow point-to-point transfer o' a large amount o' supplies."
”I’ve seen too many in power act that way to think otherwise.” Dimitri stubbornly insists.
Dimitri looks thoughtful at Crummock’s statement, ”Maybe some of them deliberately mask their power or we’d be too scared to say anything in front of them…”
”To be honest, I haven’t set up shop in Axis yet – so I don’t have any materials on hand – however – how would you be able to contact me, should you wish to place the order once I set up business?” Dimitri asks Crummock. ”Do you want me to call you when I’ve set up shop?”
”I’ve seen too many in power act that way to think otherwise.” Dimitri stubbornly insists.
Crummock nods sadly.
"Based on what ye have told me o' yer world, I can see why ye might think as ye do."
Dimitri looks thoughtful at Crummock’s statement, ”Maybe some of them deliberately mask their power or we’d be too scared to say anything in front of them…”
"Aye, that might be true, as well..."
”To be honest, I haven’t set up shop in Axis yet – so I don’t have any materials on hand – however – how would you be able to contact me, should you wish to place the order once I set up business?” Dimitri asks Crummock. ”Do you want me to call you when I’ve set up shop?”
Crummock grins, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Well, since I know ye like I do, I can Scry upon ye, even if ye be on another plane, and talk with ye that way... however, I would not do that on a regular basis, as it would be a terrible invasion o' yer privacy. By all means, Call upon me when ye are set up, and I will get in contact with ye..."
"Well, I wouldn't want you to be watching me all the time. And having your voice in my head while I was walking down the street would make ME jump, and everyone on the street would stare. I think it would be better if we limited when you decide to peek in on me. Maybe once per week on Saturday late morning? I'll probably be mowing the lawn then." Dimitri replies.
Crummock nods.
"Aye, that seems reasonable. If there be an emergency, o' course, ye can Call for me at any time."
The party goes to bed for the night. The next morning, at 5 am in the morning, Baba Yaga’s shrill voice wakes the party up. ”I want my life brought to me now! Now stop lying around like sluggards, and get moving!” The party grabs themselves blini and a generous dollop of strawberry jam, and eats it for breakfast then set off for the canyon with Baba Yaga’s instructions. All along the way, they get to put up with Baba Yaga’s constant comments, ” She’s going to have it guarded. No one’s supposed to get to the source of my life. She wants it all for herself. But it’s mine! She can’t have it!”
The party eventually finds a path that makes its way up the north face of one of the grotto’s side canyons in a series of switchbacks before reaching a ledge 500 feet above the canyon floor. Mr Whiskers, however detects a weak abjuration aura on the path at the base of the cliff, and identifies it as a stone of alarm.
"Einar, I know you have some way to safely deactivate traps. Would that work with something that just gives off an alarm?" Mr. Whiskers asks when he spots it. He has everyone stop and explains the problem.
"Before someone suggests it, if they are going to this sort of trouble they probably have lookouts for anyone flying. Nearly every time we have tried flying, we have been spotted."
Einar shows the party how to tiptoe around the trap without setting off the alarm.
The trail ends at a wide section of ledge. Sparse scrub trees and bracken grow among the snow and ice that has gathered in natural fissures and crevices. The party also sees two towering insectile monstrosities with a pair of frozen, multifaceted eyes each.
Mr Whiskers recognizes them as advanced gelugons (ice devils). They have 10 DR/good and a hit from their tail or spear can slow creatures down. They are immune to fire, cold and poison, resist acid and have Spell Resistance. Regeneration 5/good weapons and spells.
A hit from an ice devil’s tail or spear induces numbing cold. The opponent must succeed on a Fortitude save or be affected as though by a slow spell for 1d6 rounds. This effect comes from the devil in the case of its weapon; it is not a quality possessed by the spear itself.
One of them flies to the side and casts cone of cold on the entire party.
Geist dodges the whole blast completely, Crummock and Mr Whiskers are unlucky and gets the blast right in the face. Dimitri and Einar manage to mostly get out of the way. The cold protection takes care of the rest.
The other causes an ice storm to rain on the party, while flying.
And the whole place is now covered with heavy snow and sleet rains.
Mr. Whiskers casts haste on the group. Although he can't see everyone any more, he just selects every creature in the area where they were as allies for the haste.
He then floats over to the side, trying not to be too noisy as he does so.
While relaxing by the pool, Einar casts greater infernal healing to help ease the wounds he had suffered in combat.
’This is the person we think were going to ask favors from? We should be very careful indeed.’ Einar wakes for the shrill screaming of Baba Yaga’s voice. Filling his ceramic container with water at the pond he joins his fellow warband members for the breakfast of pancakes and jam.
’Wow, Mister Whiskers saw that, I would have stumbled on it and set it off.’ Nodding his appreciation to Mister Whiskers, Einar takes off the gas mask to look at the stone. ”Good catch, I will see what I can do.” After investigating the stone for a couple of minutes, Eianr shows the warband a way to get around it, placing the gas mask back on.
’Evil devil bugs, wonder what weapon would help the best.’ Pausing for a moment Einar asks, ”So what weapons will work best? Would the thawing ability from the spear help kill them?” Einar casts fly and then begins to rage, his Cambion ancestry becoming prominent, growing as he casts mirror image, he begins to draw his weapon as he flies toward the eastern most creature.
Dimitri moves forward, and takes a single shot.
Geist hustles forward, and attempts to Bite:
Crummock then flaps up to the same target, and attempts to pimp-slap it.
Dimitri manages to hit the ice devil in the guts, and the party can see its ice blue entrails through the bullet hole.
The ice devil stabs Geist and Crummock as they approach.
Both spear attacks do not connect.
Geist does not manage to bite through its hide.
Despite resisting Crummock's spell it is near death, and the second pimp slap kills it, sending it tumbling down the cliff 500 ft below.
Greta moves out of the fog and realizes she can't get to the remaining ice devil and drops her lucene hammer and draws her bow.
The remaining ice devil flies over then cone of colds Crummock, Dimitri, Einar, Greta and Geist. Everyone manages to get out of the way in time.
Greta fires at the ice devil.
None of the arrows hit the ice devil.
'Now I have to chase the stupid thing.' Flying after the devilbug, Einar draws the dragonbane Thawing spear and thrusts it at the creature. "Really? Your going to make me chase you?"
Einar sticks the ice devil quite a good bit!
Dimitri unloads on the remaining devil...
Crummock casts Divine Favour on Geist...
...who then pounces.
Dimitri shoots the ice devil out of the sky.
Greta also retrieves her lucerne hammer. Searching the bodies the party finds 2 +1 frost spears on the ice devils.
The party continues up the path onto the ledge.
Nearly hidden among the bracken at the back of the ledge is a small cave opening, no larger than a human can crawl through. A rime of frost covers the rock around it and the surrounding ground. Periodically, a cold gust of wind issues forth from the cave as if the cliff face were breathing, leaving a cloud of frost in the air that quickly dissipates.
"You have to go into the cave. 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!” Baga Yaga giggles, then grows quiet.
Crummock frowns.
"Well, she hasnae tried to kill us thus far..."
Steeling himself, he heads through the portal.
The party sees the cave opening close as Crummock enters and realizes that the cave opening is the mouth of a Frost worm. When the cave mouth opens again...Crummock is no where to be seen!
You find yourself swallowed whole by a frost worm, and feel its teeth crush you before you fall down its dark gullet.
After what seems like an eternity falling through the cold and darkness, Crummock sees a speck of light in the horizon. Crummock falls towards it, then out of the tunnel and finds himself landing roughly on a carpet of leaves, so hard that for a moment his breath is knocked out of him. When his vision clears, he sees the virgin trees of an old growth forest tower high into the air, their dense canopy almost completely blocking the sunlight from reaching the forest floor. Very little undergrowth grows in the gloom of the forest floor, just a carpet of old leaves, black with mold, and pine needles dried to a white brittleness. 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.
He then takes in his surroundings, and consults the Doll.
"How quaint. A little home away from home, perhaps? That I can relate to..."
Crummock waits patiently for the others to join him, wand at the ready.
'Blast.' Einar, having recovered from his rage, quickly follows after Crummock.
"Yes - I don't see the need for palaces or other ornaments of power." Baba Yaga answers. "Power is what's within, not without."
You also see the entire party falling from the sky in your direction, looking like they'll be landing on you.
The party finds themselves swallowed whole by a frost worm and feels its teeth crush them as they fall down its gullet.
After what seems like an eternity falling through the cold and darkness, the party sees a speck of light in the horizon. They fall towards it, then out of the tunnel and finds themselves landing roughly on top of Crummock, then on each other so hard that for a moment their breaths are knocked out of them.
When their vision clears, they see the virgin trees of an old growth forest tower high into the air, their dense canopy almost completely blocking the sunlight from reaching the forest floor. Very little undergrowth grows in the gloom of the forest floor, just a carpet of old leaves, black with mold, and pine needles dried to a white brittleness. 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.
"Aye, on that we are in agreement. If ye need to show off yer power, then ye are not truly secure in it... which means that it is nae truly yer power, to begin with."
Crummock heals everyone as they appear.
Once everyone is healed, he nods with satisfaction.
"Right then. Yon cottage is the obvious destination; let's see what awaits us there..."
He then heads off down the trail, Geist at his side.
Mr Whiskers, after he catches his breath, realizes this demiplane is not dimensionally locked.
"Ooof! You're heavy!" Dimitri curses as he nudges his way out from under Greta.
"Good thing I was last. At least no one fell on me." Greta replies, as she gets herself off the pile.
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.
The party notices the remnants of a line of old breadcrumbs that trails up the steps and around the porch up to the front door. Many of the crumbs have have been picked at and removed by birds and other animals.
"Take that besom." The party notices an old straw broom topped with a small skull with long white hair, called a besom leaning against the railing in the corner of the porch to the left of the front door."It's important, very important." She then tells the party about it's properties
This room is a child’s wonderland. A skilled woodcarver has been hard at work carving and painting all manner of wooden toys, ranging from small animal figurines to life-sized 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.
The front door is surprisingly, not locked, nor trapped.
'I hate being eaten.' Being on the bottom of the pile, Einar is the last to get up, shrugging his shoulders, "The armor took the brunt."
Nodding to Crummock as his swordbrother heals him, "Thank you." He then heads to the porch, picking up the broom as he opens the door.
The party enters the room.This room is a child’s wonderland. A skilled woodcarver has been hard at work carving and painting all manner of wooden toys, ranging from small animal figurines to life-sized 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.
They hear a click of wood, only to turn to find one of the figures facing a different direction.
Mr Whiskers realizes that the carved figures are quite skillfully rendered, and anyone willing to pack and haul approximately 500 pounds of the carvings could sell them for a total of 1,500 gp. In addition, the carving knives constitute a set of masterwork artisan’s tools for woodcarving.
As Mr Whiskers examines the carvings, he catches one of the mannequins seemingly winking at him.
Einar peeks through the door after checking that it is neither locked nor trapped.
A great cast-iron stove in one corner keeps this room is pleasantly warm, its stove pipe extending upward through the ceiling. A plate of cookies 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.
Crummock opens the door to the next room, for a closer inspection.
A great cast-iron stove in one corner keeps this room is pleasantly warm, its stove pipe extending upward through the ceiling. A plate of cookies 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.
The small placard next to the plate of cookies is scribed in Common and reads, “Welcome to Granny’s kitchen. Thank you for coming for dinner. Please come in, have a cookie, and make yourselves at home.” Each of the cookies on the stove has a bite taken out of it.
The cage in the corner is stout and can hold a Small creature. In the bottom of it is a single child-sized boot, a wax candle with a bite mark in it, and a small, thick stick of wood.
As the party is examining the kitchen Dimitri spots a dark shape entering the stove and it unfolds itself into a vaguely humanoid shape whose stovepipe head brushes the 15-foot-high ceiling, the banked fire in its belly immediately roaring to life, its arms outstretched to grab the party.
Simultaneously the wooden mannequins in the front room also animate and move towards the party.
Mr Whiskers recognizes the golem as a furnace golem, it has DR 15/adamantine and is immune to spells or spell-like abilities that allow spell resistance.Cold Spells that get past its cold resistance
slow it and fire spells heal it as well as break any slow effects.
The mannequins are advanced wooden golems. They have DR 5/adamantine, and have splintering.
As a free action once every 1d4+1 rounds, a wood golem can launch a barrage of razor-sharp wooden splinters from its body in a 20-foot-radius burst. All creatures caught within this area take 6d6 points of slashing damage (reflex halves).
They ares immune to any spell or spell-like ability that allows spell resistance, with the exception of spells and spell-like abilities that have the Fire descriptor, which affect it normally. In addition, certain spells and effects function differently against the creature, as noted below.
Warp wood or wood shape slows a wood golem (as the slow spell) for 2d6 rounds (no save).
Repel wood drives the golem back 60 feet and deals 2d12 points of damage to it (no save).
A magical attack that deals cold damage breaks any slow effect on the golem and heals 1 point of damage for every 3 points of damage the attack would otherwise deal. If the amount of healing would cause the golem to exceed its full normal hit points, it gains any excess as temporary hit points. A wood golem gets no saving throw against attacks that deal cold damage.
How undignified!
Mr. Whiskers spends a little bit of time straightening his clothing and smoothing his fur after the fall.
--- When we get to the cottage ---
"We will want another Resist Energy before proceeding." with a nod towards Greta, he admits "Well, all of us except you of coarse." Using the rod to extend it, Mr. Whiskers casts another Communal Resist Energy (Cold) on the group.
Dimitri opens up on the animated dolls, starting with the one closest to Mr Whiskers.
Crummock casts Quickened Divine Favor on Geist, then steps across, and starts hewing into the green one...
...whilst Geist pounces on the purple king!
Mr. Whiskers steps away from the mannequin he was about to talk with and casts Glitterdust on the furnace.
Dimitri blows up both the purple mannequin and the green mannequin.
The fire on Geist's claws seems particularly effective against them, but he does not manage to destroy his golem.
The furnace golem is now blind! And glittery!
Dimitri moves out of the way.
Greta starts whacking the crap out of the wooden golem she can reach.
Her last blow bounces off its wooden exterior.
Einar moves, and draws his adamantine longsword, then starts raging and hacks at the wooden golem Greta damaged, and cleanly cleaves it into two.