Tchezze nods at Nox and the others, silently agreeing to the plan.
Ithariel nods and bows to Nadya, Yes please, let the coin from that help with food since you've put us up. And we will help find your daughter of course!
Nadya leaves with the scimitar, headed out into the blustery wind. The warm milk sits...and cools. It seems like it hasn't been touched.
Ithariel sits, getting bored of staring at the warm milk. Do you think he would want some snacks to go with his warm milk? What kind of snacks would a little fey eat?
Stelmaria on the other hand, seems to notice something awry and looks intently at Ques' feet waiting to see what happens next...
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"How disappointing. Well, no need to let it go to waste. I'd like a cup of milk actually. I like it cold anyway."
Ques picks up the milk and is about to take a sip.
"I wonder if our cold iron is bothering it? Fey don't like that stuff, you know. Maybe if we removed all of it from the house and tried again?"
Nox catches motion out of the corner of his eye, looks down at Ques's shoes, and cocks his head. "Little One, we want to take down the witches. Can you tell us of the Tower?" he says, looking directly at Ques's moving shoelaces.
Not being one for spotting things easily, Tchezze is not surprised when Nox starts talking to a creature he himself is not able to see. He joins in, in Sylvan, unsure where he is addressing exactly.
You hear a soft rustling around Ques's feet, and then a tiny patter of feet leading away. A few moments later, the cherubic face of what looks like a grumpy old man peers over an end table. He seems to be more beard than body, but only stands about knee high. A baritone voice comes out in a grumble.
He looks over to Nox, fear in his eyes. No go witches! Witches bad trouble!
Not sure what one says to a gnomic fey creature, Ques responds, "Bad trouble indeed. Do you want me to warm this up for you?"
The wrinkled little face nods, and then what appears to be a naked little old man waddles out from around the end table. You can't really tell, though, as his beard wraps fully around his body to the point that you're not sure there's a body at all under there, save for the chubby feet sticking out of the bottom.
The fellow crawls up on a seat, and takes the warm milk. Big trouble...Hatch no want trouble! You get Thora back.
Tchezze kneels down next to the domovoi, trying to appear as kind and pleading as possible.
Ithariel hears the kindness in Tche's voice, and decides that the delegate negotiations should be handled by those who talk better than he does. He sits far away on his heels and watches the small, bearded Fey, not moving much and keeping his hands open and away from his weapons.
The little fellow grumbles as he sips at the warm milk, putting the majority of his beard in it as well. He looks up. Hatch live there once. He did pranks... He shrugs. S'what Hatch do. White witch no like, make guards beat Hatch with sticks. They throw Hatch out, but Miss Nadya find Hatch...make better again. Now Hatch guard house! He puffs out his chest, which isn't visible under his beard.
Hatch know the place...but much to talk about...take long time. What you wan' know?
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Ques goes and looks for something to warm the milk with. In a place like this he suspects there are fires everywhere or everyone would freeze to death and then returns as quickly as possible to find out what the fey has to say.
"Weeelll. Are there any infrequently used entrances to the place that someone could enter by and not be noticed?"
Ote sits and stares, mind racing. For the moment he is content to observe the fey.
The little fey seems to chew on his words on a bit, then goes on a long, meandering summation.
Walls of stone, slippery and strong as hewn stone. No stairs...ice won't hold 'em. Portals instead...made by witches. Go through portal and "poof" He gestures. Yer on the floor above.
Need the key word to work 'em. He grins and taps his head. Hatch know it. Get in, and guards, soldiers, witches. Outer gate tall, need to talk guards into letting you in...Hatch not help with that.
Ote sits back, mentally processing the intelligence provided by the diminutive fey.
”Hmm. So, once we’re in past the Outer Gate, we can navigate the levels using Hatch’s mighty keyword.”
The tengu pauses.
We still will need to know which level to head for, and perhaps some understanding of personnel including likely numbers and positions of guards and any particular personalities to be more or less...scared of...”
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"Well, for one thing he might be able to tell us where the prisoners are and how to get to them How about that, Hatch?"
Ques looks down to see if his shoes are tied together.
"And where the other end of the portal we came though might be. Those are our two objectives."
Not being the guileful sort it takes a while before he considers what talking the guards into something might mean.
"And who would the guards let though? Entertainers, cooks, what? does anyone ever bribe them to get in?"
Though why ANYONE would want to bribe their way into an evil witches' castle is beyond me. Well, except for us of course.
Tchezze speaks directly to Hatch, "How long has it been since you've lived in the tower, my little friend?"
Ithariel thinks for a moment, So we need to convince the guards to let us into the fort? What if we were delivering food to them?
He looks around the group to see what they think.
Ques does indeed see that his shoes are tied together. Hatch grins widely, his bulbous nose coated in goats' milk from his drinking.
Better if you be guards. Guards always let guards in...to guard...with the guards. He seems to lose track of his point, and sips again at his milk.
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Ques smiles at the prankster, motioning to his shoes.
"You ever do that to the guards? How do you keep from laughing?"
Then he unties them and winks at Hatch.
"We could try to act like guards, but it might be difficult. One of us might get away with it, but we are an odd assortment of beings. Hatch, do they have any bird men and tigers as guards?"
Ques waits for an answer and follows up with "A pity none of us knows a sleep spell or something. I'm thinking the first thing we should do is scout the place."
"Do the guards have any specific uniform that they wear? If they do, where do we get them?"
Hatch grins widely, clutching his weird beard-gut as he chuckles. He then furrows his brow in thought. No tigers or bird men. Dragon, nasty sprites, men.
Hatch looks at Nox, then looks from side to side, and blinks. Seems he doesn't know...
”We could try the old “delivering prisoners” routine?” offers Ote.
Tchezze nods at the plan being proposed, "SO who would play the part of the prisoner? I would suggest someone that could hold their own without weapons, just in case."
Ithariel nods, I can if things go south, since I can cast spells..
Ote warms to serious shonky humbug.
”Well, we could also pose as bounty hunters, you and I, and bring Ithariel and...perhaps Nox in as “known fugitives, where’s our fee?” etc. Of course the ruse breaks down fairly quickly but we are then...in?”
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"Hey, I really like that idea. Bounty hunters makes a lot more sense. We could even name drop that guy on the other side of the portal that did the whole zombie thing. We get in and take out the guards without an alarm and then roll through the place as fast as possible. I just wish we knew where to go. Maybe the guards will cough up some info with a little encouragement."
"Maybe give them the name of the fiend we...disposed of recently. She sent us, you, in with suspects."
Ithariel brightens at that idea, That may be our best bet he says, looking at the small fey, What do you think?
Hatch watches the back and forth, his cherubic little head whipping back and forth. When he is addressed, he nods his head, very slowly and deliberately. Then, he starts chewing on a cracker he seems to have found on his seat.
At that moment, Nadya returns, opening the door and allowing a burst of cold air and light flakes of white snow to swirl inside. She knocks clumps of ice off of her boots, then looks up. Ah, I see you met Hatch. Hatch, I hope you treated our new friends well. So, what are your plans; are you resting for the evening then?
Ote’s eyes narrow.
”You are a remarkable woman Nadya. Your daughter is captured and imprisoned, yet you care for our wellbeing. Clearly, if we are well rested and nourished with...warm milk...we will fare better on the morrow. Still, your evident care is most welcome.”
Nadya sighs as she sets down her furs and moves over to stoke the fire. Her eyes start into the flickering lights as she speaks. I have a bit of hope now, master Tchetekza, slim though it may be. In the morning, I can take you out into Waldsby, should you need to purchase anything, but we can discuss further then. She turns from the fire, and motions to the side. There's more wood there, and please help yourselves to the pantry. This has been a long night...everyone get some sleep.
She will head off into the back room, leaving you to your own devices. While she does, Hatch turns back into a family dog and curls up on the couch, making sure to sprawl up and take up way more space than he should.
As you sleep, curled up in bedrolls and blankets in the common room around the fire, you all seem to have a common dream - you're in a dark and dingy basement, old wooden stairs overhead. You're hiding under them, and hear loud steps above - thud, thud, thud...no, that's not right. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you realize that someone's pounding on Nadya's door.
Guard, open up!
Nadya comes rushing out of her bedroom in her nightclothes and a hastily donned long leather jacket. She looks at the door in concern...then at all of you, spread out on her floor.
Seeing the panic in Nadya's eyes, Tchezze is up in a flash, he reaches for his weapons, instinctively. Looking around, he sees the panic in the other's eyes as well, and, feeling in good company, whispers "We can't put Nadya in danger. Is there a window we can fit through in a back room, Nadya?"
Ithariel rolls to his feet, uncomfortable with trying to evade guards, but knowing it must be done... Yes? Out the back?
Nadya looks concerned, then nods. Yes...there's a window...through my bedroom. I will try to keep them from coming in; go quickly!
She looks toward the door.
Coming!
Tchezze attempts to push his armor quietly out of view and grabs his katanas. He tries to move as quietly as he can out, per Nadya's instructions.
Ithariel will grab his weapons and head for the window!
Stelmaria will pad ahead with Tche and make sure the coast is clear!
Ote decides to stay. He can’t bring himself to part with his naginata, or his no dachi, or his sansetsukon, or his tekko-kagi...nor for that matter his favored double chained kama. Then there is his armor. It all seems like...too much to bear. He gives Nadya an apologetic shrug.
In his haste to head for the window, Nox slams the bedroom door behind him.