Shanya nods at Ankih. "Indeed. All together, they're what I've been able to learn about Baba Yaga's Hut."
As the others are talking quietly, Lana sits and stares into the flame of a lamp, trying to... remember. Suddenly she cries out, her gaze flitting between her hands and the lamp. A moment later she jumps to her feet and grabs her coat. "Must go... don't know where. Something... something happening, calling. I have to go!"
She glances around the room before turning and heading out the door.
Kalt leaps to his feet as Lana grabs her coat, saying, "I'm coming with you. What's calling you?" He notes her distracted gaze, and knows she sometimes has visions. Hurrying along beside her as she moves to the door, he lays a hand on her arm and asks, "Lana, what did you see?"
Lana recoils from Kalt's touch with a sharp cry of pain. Bringing the world around her into focus, she shakes her head as if to clear it. "Pain. Wolves... conflict. Burning... a battlefield... I don't know. There were wolves."
When Lana cries out, Shanya looks over to her. Noting her distress, she runs over to her writing desk and stashes her notes in her alchemy book before gathering her gear.
"I'll go with you. Where did you see these wolves fight?"
The pain in Lana's hands recedes as she moves away in the house. Plunging them in snow does nothing to cool the burning; the burning seems to only abate as she travels closer to some mysterious destination.
Sven's teeth sink into the flesh of one of the wolf men; he snarls back at Sven in pain but keeps his feet.
Greta thrashes in an attempt to throw off the worg holding her, but his grip is vice-like.
Sven's first blow knocks the worg out, probably for several hours as the worg-in-human-skin loses consciousness. Sven's second blow easily hits the second man, leaving him reeling for a moment. The second worg releases Greta and backs up into a corner, suddenly less enthusiastic about his prospects. He grows hair while his face elongates into a lupine form; his hair bristles in anger as growls throatily.
Meanwhile, Lana follows the burning sensation in her hand; the group hears the sounds of wolves fighting in the distance and senses they must beclose... but as they round the corner, they find their troubles have suddenly multiplied.
Sven and Greta's plight is not unobserved; rather two of the soulless, mirror faced creations of the witches are observing from a distance. Strangely, their vantage points seems to almost exactly mirror that of the vision Lana beheld in the flame. The two mirror men turn to the group tumbles out into the same street. Mechanically and simultaneously they raise their swords and in a monotone voice chant "Halt for questioning"
Ankih Tohep
Avora Teremocles
Shanya
Kalt Ìsson (+2 in cold)
Lana Shahakh
He would have to ask me! I'm no good with people - or former people like these, I rely on Sven for this kind of thing. Kalt stays calm and says, "Questioning? What about? I have my papers." He reaches slowly into his jacket and pulls out Mortin's masterpiece of forgery, offering it for the mirrored man's inspection.
Seemingly suddenly uninterested in nearby fight, the mirror-faced men walk quickly and smoothly towards the group.
One of the mirror men puts down the sword it carries, or rather the thing aligns it vertically with the rest of his body. With the other hand it grabs the documents with surprisingly fine motor control. It turns its mirrored face towards the document and scans it intently for an agonizingly long time, and then it hands it back to Kalt. It does the same for the rest of the party.
It continues in impeccable Taldane - and you realize that the creature is speaking telepathically directly into your minds.
"Good evening Jadwiga Pribuska", for that is the family name Mortin chose for Kalt. "Please be advised that travel in this district after dark is not advised for Jadwiga. There are dangerous winter wolf conflicts in progress. Please state the nature of your business and if we may assist you."
In the distance the bloody battle rages...
Kalt glances at Shanya, more than willing to let her do the talking and come up with a plausible explanation. Can't believe we didn't come up with a cover story for after we dropped off the damn fish. Chatting about lost love and who should be slapped! We should all be slapped for not thinking, dammit!
In spite of the thoughts roiling his mind, Kalt looks at Shanya, as if she's in charge and better suited to explain their presence. She'll certainly be more convincing than I would.
Shanya steps forward, squaring her shoulders and looking the mirrored man in the... well, where its eyes would be if it had them.
"Good evening, servitors." Shanya says in a sharp, authoritative tone. "We've been looking for the Frosthall Theatre, and we appear to have been turned around. Would you be so kind as to provide us with directions?"
Kalt nods at Shanya's words, mumbling, "Sure would help us out a lot."
Ankh remains quite, handing his papers over to be examined when prompted. He keeps his head lowered as well.
Ahhh. This is starting to damage my calm...Milady give me strength.
The mirror man points a hand in a South-Easternly direction. It speaks again into your minds.
"The theater is 1438 feet by direct route that direction."
The creatures bow and step aside to allow the group passage; the direction is, unfortunately, exactly opposite Sven's location.
***************************************************
Greta, free of her captors, wheels about and leaps forward. Unlike Sven, she shows no mercy and goes for the throat. The worg wails piteously as her teeth sink in - and then gurgles, as its throat fills with blood. She throws it to the ground and howls in victory.
The creature appears to live, raggedly breathing in the cold air, but only due to Sven's earlier restraint. Greta walks over to Sven with bloody running down her jaws. She drops her head and nuzzles Sven's flank gently.
In a soft growl she speaks: "Thank you, hunter; you have saved me from a lot of trouble. I promise, I won't be running away from you any more tonight."
She pads over the the fallen worgs. "An unusual method of fighting you have, hunter. I would kill them now, but the pack would object; it would cause problems."
She sniffs and stares inside a couple of pouches on the belt of the worg still shaped as a man. She snatches them up in her teeth and walks over to her rescuer, dropping one of the pouches at his feet. There is the clink of precious stones within, and she smiles with wicked fangs at Sven.
"But to the victors go the spoils, I think"
Yargin (Grappled, 17 nonlethal, 49 lethal, unconscious)
Scrobe (Grappled, 43 nonlethal, 27 lethal)
When the decidedly less lupine group has a chance to discuss Lana's vision, it occurs to the more erudite that Lana's oracular power tapped into something not unlike Irrisen Mirror Sight, except Lana's power seems to be focused through flames instead of mirrors. It is apparent that anyone with the right dweomer can utilize the mirror men as points of observation, not just the witches.
"Only my pride, hunter." She rubs up against him again. "But I know the balm for that wound. Lets get out of here; I think you'll like my cozy little home."
She begins to trot off deeper into the Howlings with rather suggestive body language.
In the meantime, it is not long before rest of the party loses the mirror men, and are able to circle back to Mortins.
********************************
Shanya glares the whole way back to Mortin's home. Dammit... we almost had our cover blown. And no sign of Sven anywhere!
She glances over at Avora, briefly wondering how she's holding up in light of all this.
In the morning, Greta watches Sven as he dons his gear again.
"You don't have to leave, Sven. I've been looking for someone like you for a long time. We could have a lot of fun together."
She leaps out of bed and pads over to him, and helps him buckle his armor. "I could even come with you to your Southern lands; I could get used to the warmth, I think. I would do that to hunt with someone like you." She tries to keep the sound of need out of her voice, but fails; there is a slight quiver which betrays her.
************************************************************
Ringeirr broaches the topics of the days activity over a breakfast of lutefisk and barley bread.
"As soon as your adventurous companion returns, we should head over to the Floes district and meet with the Heralds, I think. I believe you wish to visit the markets along the way, is that correct? We can do so, but try and keep your heads down. Remember this city is under martial law, and no matter how good Mortin's documents are we don't want to attract unnecessary attention."
"Witchqueen's hut? The Dancing Hut is in the market square, in the merchant's quarter."
"Do you want to join the winter guard? Don't be a fool and put yourself at the mercy of the trolls and witches - you are too good for that. You know, they would move against Baba Yaga, she who gave us this gift." She motions to her lithe body. Her pale white brow furls and she begins to dress.
"Besides, they have plenty of troops already. At least one hundred. Not to mention that thing has grown up a green forest around it. Strange magic to see green trees in the middle of Whitethrone, but such is the power of Baba Yaga's servants.
Greta gets an angry flash in her eyes.
"You don't seem mad or sick, but I don't understand you. You have no pack, only servants; you wish to run headfirst into the witches' madness, yet are heedless of the danger. And you presume to speak of what is best of me. Mystifying is what your are!" She pauses. "Our night together was wonderful, what I've needed for a long time but... but I need to be alone now. Go and find your hut, Sven the Hunter."
Once Sven has returned to the group it is easy enough to use Mortin's papers to bypass the Mirror Men and head into the city proper.
In fact, the market square lies directly in the between the bath house and the Howlings. Although the shops in side alleys are still open for business, the main square is strange mixture of military encampment and sylvan woods. The area surrounding Whitethrone’s Market Square is now overgrown with a thick forest that obscures the Dancing Hut, if it indeed lies inside. Trolls and humans are busy chopping trees at the edge of the woods, but from the scattered stumps and woody debris it is clear that they fight a losing battle against the forest's unnatural growth. Outside of the edges of the forest, tents of animal skin and huge bonfires service many humans, trolls, winter worgs, a scattering of mirror men and even a frost giants.
Ringeirr leads the group around the edges of the market square slowly and deliberately, giving the group a chance to buy supplies while taking care not to get to close to madness at the center.
Ringeirr begs to the group as they pass the encampment "Please, don't do anything rash. I still think our underground allies..." he says, careful not to use the world Herald here "...are our best options."
"I think that they know more of the situation then Southerners and a fisherman." He snorts in amusement.
"And one changeling." Shanya quips, her eyes still watching for anyone observing them.
She didn't feel like purchasing anything today--all she wants to do is find Solveig and plan how to get to Baba Yaga's hut.
The group samples the strange wares of the Witches' market for a while and then moves onto the center of the city. In the distance, the icy palace looms large and casts it's shadow over the city.
Ringeirr makes for the Water Palace, a bathhouse frequented by the Jadwiga. However, as he nears it he veers off and heads for a smaller place.
"This is one of the entrances; it is a place where those Ulfen of better fortune come to bathe... or seek freedom. Come on."
He gives a knowing nod to the bath house attendant outside and heads inside, past the steam rooms and into into the service tunnels; thick, warm steam obscures everything as the group move about. He passes through a series of guarded tunnels and doors. His routine is practiced, for sure: he knocks and utters a pass phrase, warmly hugs the alert Ulfen women and men who open the door, and leads the group through. He does this three or four times; you even pass through small gardens kept alive by magical light and the artificial warmth.
Eventually you find yourself in a cramped central room in the warm warrens. There rests a small shrine, with a wooden carving of a rose on cobblestones, painted to show both the rose's redness and the rivulets of blood flowing on the cobblestones.
Rooms surround the shrine, and seem to hold dozens of Ulfen refugees and fighters. Before you can even find your bearings, the former servant Korgin rushes up to you.
"My saviors! Please, I want to thank you personally for freeing me, and introduce you to my wife and daughter." He vigorously shakes the hands of everyone. His daughter, a shy girl, hides in her mothers skirts.
"When I went back for my family, I took some things that should not be noticed for awhile. Lady Solveig Ayrdahl helped me sell them, and I would like you to have some of your just rewards." He shoves a thick bag of coins into Ankih's hands before anyone can protest.
As if summoned by her name, a blonde-haired Ulfen woman walks forward. She wears blue pants and a red cloak held with a silver clasp shaped like a rose.
"Greetings, and may the Everbloom bring warmest spring to you. I am Solveig Ayrdahl, a servant of Milani. In her name I serve Heralds of Summer's Return, helping them and all enslaved Ulfen as best I can. Ringeirr, a pleasure again as always." Ringeirr nods to the woman in response.
"Master Korgin speeks highly of your deeds, and you travel in good company, so I assume you come to this place with hearts full of good intentions." Her eyes linger a moment on Lana, Kalt and Ankih. "What finds a group of Southerners traveling this far into Irrisen's icy heart?" She patiently waits for an explanation from the group.
Solveig frowns.
"Madness, indeed. You do this willingly, serve the creature who trapped us in this cycle to begin with?"
She takes a step back from the offered hand.
"Trading evil for evil is a dangerous game, one that should not be played lightly." She walks over to small rose in a pot on the mantle of her shrine and stares at it for awhile.
"You seem good-hearted, even if your task is misguided. And our need is dire. So who are you? Warriors, wizards; people of faith?"
"And what would you do to hurt the witches? Would you fight witches to save Baba yaga? Trolls? Would you fight a dragon?" Her words sound like hyperbole, but you can see from her eyes that she is deadly serious.
Shanya keeps quiet, letting Sven do the talking. Evidently, she's nervous being around Solveig.
We were supposed to meet her... Father and I...
She straightens up. "He speaks for all of us, Solveig. Ankih has his faith, Avora has her bond with nature, Kalt has his blade, Lana has her fire, Sven has his valour, and I have my mind. And I ask of you: when is summer?"
I would've mentioned Sven's c**k, but she doesn't appear to be impressed by that.
'Summer is coming'. It is good to see a sister in the fight." She shakes her head, her blond braids and locks shaking voluminously.
"It is not my intention to drive away anyone willing to fight for a better day. It is just... well, to fight on Baba Yaga's behalf too. If you are as brave and skilled as you seem let me offer a proposal and see truly how brave you are."
"The Winter Guard is hated by more then the Heralds. There are many among the Iron Guard whose loyalties lie with Baba Yaga, not Elvanna. The Winter Guard purged many of the officers during Elvanna's newest reign of terror, but there are scattered elements that burn for revenge."
She moves over to a desk and pulls a map of the city.
"What they need, however, is someone to cause enough chaos for them to make their move. I have been in secret communication with them, and they balk at the idea of rising up while the white dragon Logrivich still leads."
She unrolls the map and points to a location near the market square. "See this? It is a clocktower, Logrivich's dwelling and barracks to house a number of trolls. A witch is reported to haunt the tower as well, one Granny Nan. If you slay the dragon, the Winter Guard would be disorganized for some time. You could signal the death of the dragon and start of the uprising with this." She hands a firework of some sort to Lana.
She looks down for a moment, and raises her eyes in a pleading fashion. "There is something else too; I have a friend who has been captured by the dragon: but the singer Bella Belvorica. I beg your forgiveness, but if you take up this task to slay Logrivich, I would ask you to free Bella if you can. I cannot ask this in the name of Milani or the Heralds... but only as a personal favor."
Kalt gives the priestess a puzzled look when she first addresses him. A Southerner? Me? I come from even further north than Whitethrone...perhaps her remark wasn't mean to include me.
Nonetheless, he listens quietly while the others talk, then weighs in after Sven has expressed their willingness to take on the task. "He's right, we've fought - and even died - against the very foes you name, and we'll do it again. That said, I do like to know a bit about my enemies. What can you tell us of this dragon, Logrivich?"
-
"What can I tell you of Logrivich? I can tell you he makes his lair in the top of the tower, having torn out the faces to keep a better view of the city. He is a young dragon, the witches have kept him as a servant and trained them as their general for the past twenty years. He breathes ice and can walk upon it as if he were a spider. Like all of his kind he sees through snow, does not suffer from cold and abhors heat and fire."
She pulls out four vials of cure light wounds "I know it is not much, but if you take this task I can offer you these to aid your efforts."
Ankih stutters and tries to return the bag of coins, then, when that fails hands it to his nearest companion.
Dragon? When did we fight a dragon? I thought it was an animated statue.... A real dragon, that could be a little out of our league...
" Pardon me, Lady Solvieg. While I do help my friends in this quest, I do NOT serve the Witch Queen Baba Yaga. I serve Milady Sarenrae. She has sent me... For lack of a better word... Visions. I am to be her champion of flame, or her burning sacrifice... I'm not really sure which...maybe both..." He starts out strong, then peters off in confusion before continuing..
"Regardless I am her servant in these times of peril, and she works for the betterment of people. So I can only believe, that, for as evil as Baba Yaga is, her rule is better than the current Queen. Anyway, thank you for your aid. Would you know more about this Granny Nan? She might be more of a foe than the dragon when all is said and done."
"No, I am afraid I know less about her." Solveig replies. Ringeirr shrugs, seemingly also unfamiliar with Granny Nan. "She is purported to be a witch, so beware of magics that attack your mind."
Solveig smiles warmly at Ankih. "And it is good to hear that Sarenrae sends her blessed servants to aid this endeavor - may you be the light to guide the others through the darkness."
Shanya frowns, her brow furrowing in thought.
When she looks up, her face is pale with a mixture of fright and disgust. "Granny Nan... I've heard of her. Last of an obsure Jadwiga family--it's since fallen to ruin. She's never been a Winter Witch, but she's just as wicked as they are--she uses Irrisen's orphanages as a food source for the monstrous soldiers of the Witches. Especially trolls." She shudders.