The ice golem begins to lumber out of the storm, as slowly as the heroes on account of the ice.
Greta confidently moves across the ice - hardly an impediment to a winter wolf, a creature practically born upon the ice sheets.
Shanya keeps powering through the snow!
She's not out of it yet, but she's getting there!
Ankih purposefully moves across the slippery ground, heading toward the edge of the storm...
" I am not fond of ice!"
Lana tries to advance through the storm.
The witch gasps again as another arrow pierces her, but she is beyond insults at this point.
(Skald)"Zapada, help me!" she calls out desperately, right before casting a spell - a small snowy owl streaks from the nearby trees diving for Kalt - but instead of claws, Kalt feels a painful wave of nausea coursing through his body as life energy is funneled away. plus
Neither the golem or the winter wolf can reach the flying witch. While the golem simply stands underneath the witch (who is too far up for his breath weapon), Greta finds a useful way to vent her frustrations - she dashes next to Kalt and practically swallows the owl in single bite. This elicits a shriek of dismay from the flying Nazhena.
Kalt winces as the small owl's attack proves far more painful than he expected. As Greta devours the silent raptor, he nods quickly in acknowledgement, as he would to any companion in battle. He takes a short step closer to Nazhena, then unleashes a devastating barrage of arrows at her.
Kalts first two arrows whistle cleanly through the air and pierce the witches skull, killing her instantly. The third merely strikes a lifeless corpse.
The gore splatters on the sheer material of Nazhena's expensive garmets, and she floats to the ground slowly, still under the effect of her magic. So ends the life of the terror of Waldsby, blood of Queen Elvanna, Nazhena Vasilliovna.
wounds, potions of shield of faith, wand of ice spears* (10 charges); Other Gear Emberchill (+1 frost sickle, currently storing wall of ice), hyperboreal robe, spell component pouch, blue quartz tiara
worth 500 gp, ice diamond necklace worth 100 gp
EMBERCHILL PRICE
12,806 GP
SLOT none CL 10th WEIGHT 2 lbs.
AURA moderate evocation (plus aura of stored spell)
Emberchill is a +1 frost sickle whose cruel blade is crafted entirely of magical ice. The weapon itself is immune to fire damage. It is believed that one of Irrisen’s past queens originally forged Emberchill, and over the succeeding centuries, tradition has kept the weapon in the hands of the White Witches, such as its current wielder, Nazhena Vasilliovna. A spellcaster can store a single spell of any level with the cold descriptor and a casting time of one standard action in Emberchill. The wielder can use the stored spell to counterspell any spell with the fire descriptor, provided that the stored cold spell is 1 or more levels higher than the target fire spell (unless the cold spell specifically counters the fire spell). The wielder must still ready an action and succeed at a Spellcraft check to identify the spell to counterspell it. Once stored in the weapon, the cold spell cannot be used for any other purpose, but the wielder can harmlessly discharge the stored spell as a swift action to make room for another spell. Abilities that grant the cold descriptor to spells, such as the frozen caress hex of the winter witch archetype, make those spells suitable for storing within Emberchill.
CONSTRUCTION REQUIREMENTS COST 6,556 GP
Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Improved Counterspell, dispel magic, ice storm, creator must be a caster of at least 10th level
HYPERBOREAL ROBE
PRICE 7,000 GP SLOT body CL 6th WEIGHT 1 lb.
AURA moderate abjuration and
necromancy This beautiful robe is fashioned from fine blue silk embroidered with silver thread, and trimmed with owl feathers and tiny shards of crystal. The robe grants its wearer a +2 resistance bonus on all saving throws. In addition, the flesh of the robe’s wearer becomes searing cold to the touch. Anyone who strikes the wearer with an unarmed strike, a touch attack, or a natural weapon takes 1d6 points of cold damage. The wearer can activate or deactivate this ability as a free action.
CONSTRUCTION REQUIREMENTS COST 3,500 GP Craft Wondrous Item, chill touch, resistance
Shanya strides out of the sleet storm, taking in Kalt's marksmanship. She glares at the witch's corpse, somewhat irritated that she wasn't the one to get the kill.
She settles for the next best thing--walking up to the dead witch and spitting on her corpse.
"Let this be a warning to the rest of the Winter Witches. Their days are numbered."
Kalt eyes the fallen witch coldly a moment, savoring the sight of her on the ground, riddled with his arrows. "Looks like you were beyond help, witch," he says calmly as he walks over to her body. He methodically searches her as his companions make their way out of the storm of sleet, pausing for Shanya to deliver a wad of spittle onto Nazhena's corpse.
"That'll settle her for sure, make clear how we feel about her," he says with dry humor to the oddly beautiful changeling. "We should take a look at that hut, see what other surprises await us. But first, I could use a little patching up. That little owl bit damn hard."
Striding over to the group surveying the witch's corpse, Ankih intones a prayer and channels healing.
" Blessed be Milady."
As Lana and Kalt approach the bone fence, the hut stirs to life. It rises to a full fifteen feet in height upon oversized chicken legs and begins moving towards the group. However, it is quickly stopped short by a rune encrusted shackle around its ankle. The hut scratches the ground and repeatedly opens and closes an oversized beak near the peak of the roof; the motions indicate that the hut is expecting something.
Other then the oddities of the galline features, the hut is rather simple in construction - a peaked roof, to slough off heavy snow loads, several windows (including one recessed inside the beak), a porch and a single door. The wood seems to be a mix of pine and spruce and largely unadorned.
It pauses for a moment. "Within are both servants of the Great Crone - and tools of her Daughter. Be wise and wary in your judgemens."
As the vision fades, you find that all your clerical abilities - spells and channeling alike - have been refreshed
Kalt feels a powerful surge of healing energy course through him, with the familiar sting it always seems to carry.
He looks up at the strange, mobile hut and asks, "So, now what?"
Falling to his knees, a look of awe overcomes the priest.
" Yes Favored One. I hear and take heed!"
Bowing his head in prayer for a moment, you see tears streaming down his face.
"Never did I think to be so worthy as to hear from the Herald of Milady!"
Jumping up he Motions for the others to stop.
"This 'Hut' will not tolerate the presence of those not of the Crone's blood or her servants. If we wish to follow the servants of the Crone, we need them to vouch safe us to the Dancing Hut! Inside are both servants of the Great Crone, and tools of her Daughter. We should be careful in our judgments. "
He seems rejuvenated and energetic. More so than he has been in days...
Shanya looks quizzically at the priest. "Alright then... I'll take point then, shall I?" She looks over at the hut, shouldering her shortbow.
Shanya begins to approach the hut.
Avora stands, staring at the hut in wonder, but says nothing.
"You surprise me, Bjornson," Kalt comments wryly. "I've never known you to hesitate to knock on the door of a woman's hut."
Slipping his bow onto his shoulder, he draws his greatsword and follows Shanya, saying quietly, "Careful, lass. There's a lot of ways this could play out."
"Rest assured, Kalt, I intend to." Shanya steps up and knocks on the door.
"Hello?"
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As Shanya moves closer to the hut and reaches up towards its door (which lies some 15' off the ground) the hut bends down with surprising speed - its beak comes alarming close to Shanya. Up close, she quickly realizes that the beak is larger then she is, and could easily swallow any of the group whole.
However, the beak stops about a foot from Shanya and sits there for a moment. The changeling's hair flies in the breeze as the hut breathes in and out. It becomes clear that the hut is smelling Shanya, searching for some manner of scent. Whatever it seeks it seems to find. It clucks - rather loudly - and sits down. The motion is awkward with the hut still shackled by its magical chain.
As Shanya's hand touches the door, it seems to swing open lightly and easily and she finds herself looking into a room. It is apparent that this room is larger then the exterior of the hut would suggest.
Bundles of dried herbs hang from the rafters of this comfortable-looking room, and along the walls are numerous shelves holding a bewildering variety of glass jars, bottles, and vials containing all manner of strange magical components and alchemical ingredients. A massive cauldron sits in the middle of the room. No fire burns under the pot, but the liquid within it bubbles and churns, and white fumes rise and lap over the brim. Except and for the cauldron, the room strongly suggests a simple country cottage.
A large stove, writing desk, bookcase, and fireplace complete the room, along with a number of crates, barrels, and sacks. On the desk sits a cracked bowl holding a chicken's egg. A short flight of steps leads up to a set of double doors in the far wall, and a small ladder climbs to a trap door in the ceiling in the nearby corner. Two windows flank a the entrance.
A moment after the door opens, there is a quick flare of energy on the floor near the entryway. Though it quickly fades away, it is clear some manner of magical glyphs are set here.
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Shanya watches the spectacle with a mixture of confusion and awe. She can say without a hint of doubt that she's never been smelled by a walking house before.
"What...?" Is all she can say when the hut finally allows her entrance.
So far, previous research is proving accurate. Now... Ankih said that those who do not serve Baba Yaga need to be vouched for.
She takes a step across the threshold, ready to scramble away in case things go wrong. "*ahem* Well, it looks cozy enough inside... it's a fitting place for those who serve the Crone."
She continues, clearly unsure of what the hell she's doing. "So... er, the winter wolf and the Keleshite have fought alongside us faithfully and well. As a... servant..." The word sounds foreign and foul in her mouth. "...of Baba Yaga, I can vouch for them."
"So... would you allow them in? Please?"
And here I am, talking to a walking house with a chicken's beak. I hope my sheer confusion at this is a sign that I'm still sane.
Shanya can feel the house vibrate as it rises up just enough to scratch its claw in the ground twice, in two quick motions. This done, it settles back down upon its haunches.
Shanya freezes in place as the house scratches its claw in the ground.
"...was that a 'yes'?"
That was one of the problems with communicating with something that isn't even vaguely humanoid--it's nigh impossible to tell what the other party in the conversation is thinking.
The house's lack of facial cues doesn't help matters either.
"Well, I can think of one way to see how it feels about us," Kalt offers, sheathing his sword. He takes a step toward the long-legged hut, then another. "Since it's shackled, I'm hoping that the worst that will happen is it'll bite at me and I can run clear. Though I've rarely had much luck hoping about the worst that could happen..."
Nodding in thanks to Shanya, Ankih bows low and then approaches the entrance as well.
" We seem to have concurrent goals my fine shingled friend."
He says as he eyes the enormous beak with no small amount of trepidation.
Kalt moves towards the hut unchallenged.
Ankih moves closer, confident in his friend's ability to sway the artifact. Suddenly the huts beak moves again...
...and stops a foot shy of the man. It smells Ankih for a much longer period of time then Shanya, perhaps memorizing some features of the man before it withdraws its nares to a respectable distance. Greta undergoes a similar ritual as she cautiously approaches; raised hairs on her back emphasize the worg's fear of the structure.
It seems to pay no mind at all to the ice golem.
Avora approaches the hut trepiditiously, allowing it to smell her before she tries to enter. She commands the ice golem across the threshold as well.
Lana, too, approaches the hut, staring up at it with interest. Have I ever seen anything like that? It doesn't seem likely... and yet... it's somehow familiar. Vaguely, vaguely familiar... like so many other things. It's not worth thinking about... maybe it'll come to me someday.
The rest of the group makes their way in. As they look around they note that some of the unguents and potions scattered among the vials are quite interesting. The room is full of items to both aid and protect against the magic of witchcraft.
There is:
-A bead carved with a small pictogram of a rabbit
-A vial of clear liquid
-An evil looking doll made of rags
-A shallow jar of green sludge
-Packets of tea
-Another jar of grey sludge
-A vial of orange liquid
Perception
Ankih Tohep
Avora Teremocles (+3 in cold)
Shanya (+2 v. traps)
Kalt Ìsson
Lana Shahakh
Sven Bjornson
Greta
Shanya (+2 v. traps)
" I don't recognize the green goop there or the tea, but as to the rest...."
" There also seems to be a hidden door, there, on the West wall."
Ankih identifies what he can, careful not to touch anything if he can help it.
Shanya looks around the room. "Wait--there was a chicken's egg in a bowl here a minute ago. Now it's not. We need that to drive this thing. Where'd it go?"
"And YES, I'm aware of how bizarre that sounded."
" Ahhh. Sorry, in the strange expanse of room that seems to be in this tiny hut, I misspoke. The hidden door is in the East wall..."
Frowning.
" You control the hut with an egg and a bowl?!?"
"Well, the tea aids one in divination, and as best I can figure, the green sludge is used to detoxify poison, remove disease, or cure wounds when applied."
"You control the hut with an egg and a bowl?!?"
"...yes." Shanya nods, walking over to the east wall and poking around. "Or at least the egg. I didn't believe it when I did my research on it either."
"It sounds like something some drunken lout would pull out of his arse."
"We need the chicken's egg and the bowl to control the hut?" Kalt asks, his face a mask of confusion. "You sure you didn't take a knock on the head in the sleet there, Shanya?"
He shrugs and says, "You usually seem to know what you're about, let's see if we can find this egg. Was on the table, was it?"
He strides over to the table and studies it and the floor around it for any signs of someone having been there, or the egg having made its own way somewhere. He's a bit out of his element, as he's more accustomed to tracking outside of long-legged, birdlike huts, rather than inside.
Shanya sighs in exasperation. "Yes, Kalt. My head is perfectly fine. And last I checked, it was on the table..."
"Although your reactions are all expected, I think." She bends over to examine the floor for possible signs of the egg's passage. "I'd imagine Baba Yaga relies on having a hut that walks on chicken legs to ensure nobody bothers her--especially if they need a certain chicken egg to unlock its full potential."
She starts muttering under her breath as she works. "Oddly innovative, I'll give her that. Reliant on sheer absurdity instead of fear. Or perhaps both, if the stories about her power are accurate. Then again, perhaps she's powerful enough to feel comfortable in the knowledge that if anyone is foolish enough to mock her for it, they'll be turned into a pile of ash..." She continues in this vein for quite some time.
Both skill of both Shanya and Kalt's superior senses are made clear: both can make out the disturbance in the clutter that indicates that someone grabbed the bowl in a hurry.
Kalt's training allows him to see the subtle signs of recent passage. There are tracks heading through the North exit of the room - fresh scrapes in the wood that would appear to be nothing less then oversized scratches left by human-sized talon.
”Something grabbed it, and it went that way,” Kalt says, pointing north. He moves to the northern door, opens it, and scans the room beyond for any signs of where the egg-thief might have gone.
Shanya nods and follows Kalt's lead.
Of course. Couldn't just leave it at this, could you? You had to go and steal the item that powers the hut.
"We may also wish to do something about the shackles on the hut."
Kalt does not spy any direct signs of the thief, but easily tracks the scratches in the wood; it is clear that the creature is still here, in this room.
Looking around, the room appears to be a kind of map room. Five iron thrones are arranged around a circular map in the floor. Translucent, three-dimensional images of cities and villages hover a few inches above their locations on the map. A large pile of bones and skulls, roped together by sinew, sits atop the center throne. Behind this throne, columns set against the wall form a semicircular alcove filled with a swirling mass of white mist.
Greta pads into the room, shadowing Kalt and Shanya. She sniffs the floor for a few moments, then looks up at the pair. (Skald)"There are things in this room, at least two - one of the first-born, and something else. I have never encountered the second smell before, though."
Shanya approaches the map on the floor. "Hmm... fancy that--a map of Irrisen. Look how realistic it is--you can actually track the movements of caravans and armies with this!"
She's about to elaborate on the nature of the map before them when Greta speaks up and derails her train of thought. It puts her on edge. "First-born--fey?" She draws her cold iron dagger. "And something else?"
As Shanya approaches the map, it becomes clear what the "something else" is - the pile of bones sitting upon the throne stirs to life and begins to lumber towards the woman. A mass of bones fly from its body, but the creature clearly is showing its age; its aim is off and the pile of bones flies over the heads of Shanya.
Ankih Tohep
Avora Teremocles (+3 in cold)
Shanya
Kalt Ìsson
Lana Shahakh
Sven Bjornson
Greta
Golem
" Well I am not sure of the country it depicts, but you could alter its view to use as a scrying tool......Uh, Bone Golem! Immune to most magics, and you need blunt adamantine weaponry to really hurt it...Look out!"
Startled by the attack, Ankih reverts to his earliest training. Stepping between Sven and Kalt he slaps Sven on the shoulder...
" Guide his aim Milady..."
Kalt hurries across the map to attack the bony creature, but his balance his thrown off by appearing to stride across the world and his swing misses badly.