The party ventures down the stairway, noting that it gets noticeably colder, with some hoarfrost creeping up the steps and walls (the steps, though, have clear hoofprints and bootprints in the frost, already frozen over).
Further down the stairwell, grumbling in the dark, is a frost giant crawling on its hands and knees. Whatever magic allows Gurra-Gurra to traverse The Maiden freely was clearly not bestowed upon this invader. (maybe because he didn't sign the ledger?)
He stops muttering for a second and you can see the flash of his darksighted blue eyes in the dark...but despite his wariness, he hasn't heard or seen you--yet.
Your signatures appear to pass muster--no geas or hex passes upon you when you sign them, and Gurra-Gurra double-nods in approval, then busies herself, tidying up the place (or creating a lot of dust; hard to say if it's helping)--she does spare a hopeful backward glance at Dez, but she keeps to her tasks, muttering back and forth:
"Job well done, Gurra."
"I agree, Gurra."
"We'll put in a good word with Jadrenka."
"If she ever shows up again."
"Of course she will!"
"Yes, of course..."
You head out of the unlikely witch's chamber and find yourself in a narrow, dark stairway--not nearly as cramped and spiraling as the one you descended--but still narrow, at perhaps 7 feet in spots. It's all carved stone, with various glowing pebbles in the corners of the stairs to light your way. The maiden-and-sunflower motif continues, carved along the walls.
Elbrynn, Dez, Yrja:
You can hear someone cursing and grunting very softly, as if talking to themselves, a bit further down the hallway. They are moving around somewhere out of sight, and their voice is deep and rumbly. You can't tell the language.
Elbrynn:
You can smell the far off reek of urine. Yuck. And it smells kind of fresh. No idea what creature did it. The uh, stink seems to be further off than the person grunting in the hallway.
"That would be wonderful, and maybe you could show me how to make hexes stick a little better?" Gurra and Gurra rub their hands together in anticipation of witchcraft, or maybe muffins.
Yrja:
Kostschei, or Kostchtchie, is known as "The Deathless"; he's a twisted god of giants and cold. Legends say he was once a human, whose hatred for his own family, especially women, was only dwarfed by his utter fear of death.
You realize that the bas-relief of maidens dancing in the sunflowers may be a depiction of witches dancing on Kostschei's deathless bones. Perhaps Artrosa has some function in trapping him, reducing his power? You recall that Baba Yaga had some hand in cursing him...there are indeed fates worse than death.
Gurra-Gurra pauses in her sniffles. "You'd talk to Jadrenka?" She brightens.
"Ok, so we can tell Jadrenka also that bad people came in with Caigreal and to be careful, and then some...um..." says Lefty.
"Who are you all again? Can um you sign the Register?" says Righty.
The piggie trots over to an enormous book that looks about a thousand years old, illuminated by two eternal candles, and oinks helpfully.
"And um...where is Jadrenka..." says Lefty.
"She wanders," says Righty.
"She um, sets her own schedule, I guess." says Lefty.
"And she wears different faces. You know, Maiden, Mother, Crone..." says Righty.
"That's secret!" says Lefty.
"It is not! It's in the name!" says Righty.
"The name of what!" says Lefty.
"The name of the towers, the name of the poem, the name of the--"
"Oh, fine," says Lefty. "Just tell them everything."
"So there are many not nice people in The Maiden; you'll have to be careful. Also the corridors change. Also there are glowing pebbles you can use for light. And the pictures of the maidens and sunflowers are very pretty. Also I need to stay here. But maybe you'll come back and we can share some muffins?" says Righty, the last bit directed to Dez.
After a bit of back and forth with Gurra-Gurra (her name), you determine the following:
A big chestnut pelted centaur and two other subordinates came through with a small fireteam (frost team?) of frost giants--maybe four or five.
Caigreal is a nasty old hag, "the color of a fresh bruise" (though ettins are kind of yellowish-brown, you think this still means purplish), and is the mother of Jadrenka. She's upset with Jadrenka for some reason and doesn't like her much--Gurra-Gurra isn't sure why. Additionally, Caigreal led these centaurs and giants into Artrosa, so that's something...something kind of worrisome.
Jadrenka is Gurra-Gurra's "wonderful witch teacher" and from the description, is not a hag, but a human. She's been here for 'decades', says one head, and the other head disagrees and says 'tens of years'.
Kn Arcana 20:
That means she's a changeling.
Kn Arcana 28:
If it's decades and her mother is around and hasn't been able to turn her into a hag, Jadrenka has done something to shield herself from the Gift.
Gurra was arguing with Gurra about whether Caigreal should have been allowed to pass (a fruitless argument; Caigreal would have probably stunned her or killed her) but decided to attack you to make up it up to Jadrenka. As far as Gurra-Gurra know, Jadrenka doesn't know the centaurs and frost giants are here.
"Caigreal might have warded them," says Gurra-left. "Against scrying," says Gurra-right, very intelligently.
"But the problem is that Jadrenka is the warden of Artrosa, and she needs to know what's going on," say Gurra and Gurra, and she starts sniffling again.
"y-you promise?" says the ettin (you figured out it's an ettin, and for an ettin, a rather decent looking womanly one) from one head. The other just blows her nose and nods to the other head.
"His name is Bekkin," she says, and lets the pig climb into one meaty hand.
"I'm Gurra," says the left head.
"And I'm Gurra," says the right head. They peer at Dez a little nearsightedly. "You are a pretty man."
"Gurra, tell him about Jadrenka and Caigreal," says the left head.
"But they are intruders!" whines Gurra on the right.
"Listen, do you know anything about Caigreal? She's mean, and she let in some centaurs and giants. They weren't nice either, but she said it was official business. But I don't think it was official business!" concludes Gurra on the left somewhat breathlessly.
"Do you know anything about being nice? Your sword stung, but you look nice. Are you nice?" says Gurra to the right.
"Gurra," says the left head.
"And pretty?" says the right head.
"Oink," says Bekkin.
"Oh!" says Gurra on the right. "Caigreal is Jadrenka's mother. But Jadrenka is a human-kin and Caigreal is a nasty yucky hag."
The double headed giantess has clearly had enough. After Dez leaves her bleeding from multiple cuts and Orik threatens to knock her wand right out of her meaty palm, she crashes to one knee and bares both of her necks.
"I SURRENDER!" she bawls. "THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! JADRENKA SAID CAIGREAL WAS UP TO SOMETHING AND I DIDN'T LISTEN! I WAS SCAAAAAREDDDD!!!!...."
Pathetically, the giantess begins weeping steaming hot tears from four blinky eyeballs.
The giantess howls in impotent fury as another hex settles over her, making her easier to hit. "You are a very bad witch, and also mean!" says one head. "Those are the same thing!" says the second head to the first, grumpily.
She pulls out a wand, and begins to wave it...
and her spell is broken before it begins. Another arrow lodges in her leg.
"You are being extremely unfair!" bawls the first head. "And also unjust, and biased!" adds the second. Reluctantly, the giant-witch pulls out giant sickles, one in each hand.
You don't know who the warden is, but it's probably an Iobarian witch. The Three Who Watch keep secrets for Baba Yaga, but the denizens have no reason to trust you and will attack you (except maybe the warden?) The group that came in front of you were centaurs from the icy wastes, in league with frost giants, and probably Kotschtschei worshippers from the looks of it.
Dez appears from behind the staircase and catches a large two headed giant woman in the process of casting a spell.
Kn Religion DC18:
Shield of Faith.[/ooc]
She tries not to look too surprised, but her faces both snarl at the devil-like humanoid.
"We don't think so!" the heads say in unison. "Caigreal was an idiot and so are you! Now DIE!"
Those are voices speaking in a pidgin of Jotun and Goblin with Taldane and Iobarian words thrown in. Perhaps giants? 'Jadrenka' is an Iobarian name, you think. Seems to refer to someone of authority.
You don't see skulls or bones on the flower carvings, but you know that flowers in Iobaria are meant as a seal against death--they are planted over a grave. You start to wonder what Artrosa really is...
Catkins rain down on you as you pass under the witch tree arch. You pass from cold windy sunlight into warmer, still darkness, with the chuckles of the witch willow echoing as you enter the depths of Artrosa. It's apparent to you that something happens as you pass into the dark corridor...the light and sound from outside fade in a way that doesn't seem quite natural.
DC 31 Perception or Arcana:
Some sort of stepped planar or teleportation effect has moved you to an unknown location, perhaps deep within the Maiden's statue. If you look to where you came, it's a dead end of solid rock.
The passageway is hewn basalt and granite, perhaps thirty feet high. A faint glow permeates the place--witchlight. It's orange-yellow in hue.
After some shuffling in a completely nondescript passage of rock, you find an already open door, also made of rock. it leads to a long and twisting flight of stone stairs carved into a cramped passage of cold black basalt. The steps are made for something just slightly larger than human, causing you to descend carefully.
"This is essentially a centaur's nightmare," says Erdija, her voice quiet in the back. "Well, if it were flooding, even better." You can hear her swish her tail in agitation.
Ancient wall carvings on both sides of the passage depict wide fields filled with wildflowers and springing deer. It's not really reassuring.
You count steps, and count and count, and after a final turn, the stairs end some 500 feet below in
a large, rectangular chamber.
You can hear two rough voices arguing around the corner of the stairs, unseen.
"Gurra, she had the right to pass, you blithering ninny."
"Nonsense, Gurra, the rule is always check with Jadrenka. You blithe fool."
"Squirrel-faced ninny."
"Hen's-toothed fool."
You can see from around the corner that this chamber is also dark basal. The walls have been chiseled into an incredibly intricate display of thousands of wildflowers. You can't quite see the rest of the chamber, but two people are in here and the carvings continue.
"...very well, witchling. I see that Grandmother hasn't taught you your manners yet. Not that she has many of her own. Kekekeke!" The witch tree cackles and moves forward, faster than you can react, and caresses Yrja's cheek. "Such lovely flesh," she croons, "And all under the mantle of our dear Mother with the Iron Teeth."
In a flash the tree skips (!) back to the entranceway and contorts herself, twining into an arch of wood and leaves to allow passage into the depths of Artrosa. Flowers in the form of purple catkins bloom, leaving bits of fluff to wisp away into the wind.
"Pass through, children," says the willow. "Seek the Warden if you have need of her."
"Oh, I see you, orc-get, with your little pricker," says the tree.
"Yes, dear one, the Black Rider. Now, tell me his name," continues the tree. She opens her branches wide in a vast, several-fathom mockery of a mother expecting an embrace...or perhaps a spider ready to pounce on her prey.
"Tell me his name, and you shall pass unharmed, upon my word," and you can feel the small tug of the geas that she speaks true.
The willow bristles. "Treerazer is scum. I'd gladly spear him in the toe. And I am not an abomination. If you truly serve Grandmother, then you'll need to answer this:"
Midnight, Morning, Bright Sun—
Spoke thee with but one.
Accursed now you be,
For he befell the wrath
Of two times seven.
Oh tell me, who is he?
"And, I'll have you know, yes, others came this way. A foursome of terrible, smelly centaurs and a retinue of half a dozen frost giants." The willow shakes itself in an eerily satisfied way. "Only three centaurs entered Artrosa. The fourth lies with me and shall slake my thirst."
The tree appears to check its nails, if it had fingers. "Not very loyal to each other, those centaurs. Not like this one. I see you as a wood chopper, yes, but one who loves the woods, not like those disgusting, frost blasted, lice-infested brutes." It 'makes eyes' at Erdija. "You wouldn't take an axe to me, would you, dearie? ...because I'd like for you to try. All of you may try."
The willow seems to grow in size, and it appears as if the sunny day is suddenly darker, as the witch tree sucks the light from the grove. You feel a chill deep in your spines, in the marrow of your bones.
Then it relinquishes, and the day springs back into full sunlight, and you all feel the weight of doom lifted from your joints and vertebrae.
"...or you can answer the riddle, my pets, if you truly work for Mistress Baba Yaga."
"Don't keep a 'Lady' waiting. And just whom are you pilgrims of? Did you not hear me the first time, bloodlings? Speak truthfully; I can sense lies, by my sap," warns the tree.
You are slightly annoyed to realize that this is a witch tree. No one knows how they were created, but they do somewhat resemble a woman in shape...very vaguely. (you are reminded of sailors thinking sea cows were mermaids.) They like living flesh and have charms at their command to lure people close. And Dez is right--they are not nice at all.
"Hmph. 'Lady Tree.' 'Honored Tree'. Well, aren't you all so incredibly polite. Should you seek to enter Artrosa, though, you'll need to present me with a sacrifice, something warm and bloody. Yes, that's it...or something else."
The tree appears to wink at Dez, but then crosses its 'arms' as if it has said a little too much with the 'something else' bit. Those charming tieflings!
"Pilgrims of what? whom?" The tree looks sharply at Orik, or seems to look sharply. It certainly has sharp bits.
You now notice there are plenty of gleaming things beneath the tree--some with the gleam of metal, and some with the yellowed gleam of bone. The roots of the willow have grown over them with the caress of a loving octopus.
If the willow had feet, it would be tapping them with impatience, although, at the same time, it is a tree, and you'd think it would be blessed with the patience of centuries. Perhaps not. Perhaps it's just always hungry.
Dez can see, through the first arch, a strange liminal space that looks like the same mesa, but younger somehow, with less weathering on the second (but same) arch, and a mighty willow tree whose trunk resembles a maiden, but with additional branches that splay out like many arms...or pincers. Impaled on some of the lower branches is a centaur, its blood and hide gone black with decay. The tree looks truly enormous, perhaps thirty feet in height. It is placed in a ring of small spherical stones, and the path to the arch diverges in a circle around it...it's clearly a guardian. It hasn't seen you, as far as you can tell (trees don't usually have eyes)
All, this is a good spot to level to vaunted Level 8.
Elbrynn nods, and heads down like an elephant-snatching-giant bird to fetch Erdija, who arrives stoically...you notice she had her eyes screwed shut as she was deposited on the mesa.
She clops over to you and states matter-of-factly, "Centaurs....cannot vomit. Otherwise, I would have."
The wisps, completely confounded by your rapid ascent, cry out in shrill fury and retreat to their cliffside lair. Combat Avoided!
You continue up the Maiden's side, and finally land, like a bunch of annoying insects, on the broad mesa of her head. It's hundreds of feet wide, with the slight curving slope of...well, a giant head.
Vertiginous cliffs leading to the near side of the Crevasse surround the mesa top on all sides, with more black slick rock and clinging ice rising another thousand feet above the Three, though a rock wall backing the top of the figure’s head (like a headdress? a halo?) rises above the plateau, creating some cover from the cold winds blowing down the cliff sides and across the mesa. It isn't much. Although the 'edge' of the mesa is far from you, it's hard not to feel like a good strong gust could push you off the side.
From every direction the view is dizzying, offering a clear panorama of miles and miles of Iobarian wilderness. The Crevasse is a grey jagged rip through the northern ice fields, and the Hoofwood a glimmer of green clearly fed by moraines and cirque of snowmelt from the higher ice.
A small copse of bare, weathered trees stands in the shelter of the rock wall, their knotted roots clinging desperately to the cold, hard stone. Stubborn green needles show that these trees yet live. Dozens of bones litter the ground before the grove, some so ancient that the trees’ roots appear to grow right through them. What kind of bones last hundreds of years without succumbing to the elements? You don't really want to know. Behind the trees, a shadowy arched opening in the wall leads deep inside the rock. The lip of the arch gleams faintly, and when you turn to look behind you, you realize it is somehow communing with the pale gibbous moon, just barely visible in the stark afternoon daylight.
Elbrynn the Roc squawks and flees. 120' Withdraw action
Dez Knowledge:
You realize you can simply outrun the wisps if you withdraw and flee. They can't fly as fast, and their attacks are touch attacks.
The invisible will-o-wisp can be vaguely heard shrieking in anger above the wind of the cliffs; it had not thought to get close enough to tag Elbrynn with a parting attack as the roc flaps ever skyward.
The other blue wisp hurtles fruitlessly at Dez, not getting too close.
Dez:
The wisp can't reach you without double moving and getting no attack. These creatures are cowardly and weren't expecting powerful flying opponents.
"In that case, I volunteer to be last," says Erdija, looking at the top somewhat nervously, and fiddling with her harness. "How in the Nine Hells did the others get up there..."
After some quaffing of potions and settling in Elbrynn's talons, you are all ready to go. Erdija is soon diminishing pony, then dot, below you, as the druid-roc's massive pinions carry you skyward. The air is bright and cold, and the side of the Maiden is rough-hewn, appearing like a natural cliff face at this relative close view. Its upper regions glisten with snow and wet lichen, and bare black rock. Tiny waterfalls decorate its sides, each tiny plume disappearing into feathery spray.
You are perhaps some five hundred feet from the top--and a dizzying precipitous height from the floor of the Crevasse below--when two spinning, ephemeral glowing lights appear from a cleft in the statue. Dez recognizes them immediately: will-o-wisps. Nasty alien creatures coming from who-knows-where, they haunt desolate places, immune to almost all magic, and deliver a nasty electrical shock to anyone foolhardy enough to follow them into the wilds.
They move silently, bobbing and weaving in the wind, clearly aiming to attack you.
"How do you think we make the centaur in front of us run faster?" says Erdija, laughing. "No, we do not hit our children, not out of anger. That sounds like a good plan, Elbrynn."
She settles down into a sitting position and lays out the straps of her carrying bags in harness-shape.
Erdija nods. "The Tsolniva. Some of them must be working with frost giants, which is very disturbing. They are usually enemies. But the frost giants, the andrazkus, and these hoof-traitors may well all stem from the same source...that deathless coward of a half-god, whose name I will not mention." She spits at the blood rune and stamps it into so many hoofprints.
She rubs her chin. "Also, I wonder if someone helped them ascend and descend. An artifact...or a magic-caster." She snorts and stamps. "You will excuse me, but I find that unnatural, centaurs flying up and down regularly."
She flaps her arms to demonstrate, shakes her head, and then crosses her clearly inadequate-for-flight arms. "I will make at least five or six exceptions for our flying from ground to Maiden to Mother to Crone and then to ground again. And then I may kiss the ground."
Erdija swishes her tail with amusement. "Well then, perhaps we can all go together."
You reach the base of the Maiden; the ground is littered with the remains of previous attempts to breach Artrosa. There are Iobarian warriors from ages past, ground almost to dust, their armor falling to bits; there are frost giant bones bleached and scattered, elephantine in size. A catfolk shrine to their dead with a sober warning is preserved with careful neatness off the meandering paths through the rubble, bones, and armor.
Erdija frowns at the ground near the towering base. "Fresh blood here--one, maybe two days. Maybe an offering."
DC20 Nature:
There are plenty of fresh tracks of centaurs, and frost giants, which then stop and disappear in a group as if they ascended through magic.
There are also some that appear out of nowhere, as if they also have descended.
DC25 Religion:
It's sloppy, but the blood appears to make a twisted hammer with a demilune sickle at its base--the rune of Kostchtchie.
That's a Horn of Fog, and two aquamarines worth 500 gp each. Good for trading inside the dungeons?
Erdija points to her 'gear saddle' ruefully and then flashes a smile at Elbrynn. "Centaurs don't like to be ridden. Ever. However, our gear bags do resemble a...hardness. Excuse me, harness." She shakes her head at the word. "I can reinforce it with some rope. How many can you take in each flight?" She shades her eyes and squints at the distant top. "That's...three or four minutes of trotting, I suppose. I don't know how fast you will fly. So, the party will be split for...ten minutes, maybe. I don't love it; we'll be vulnerable. Elbrynn, I suggest you take as many as you can the first time, and then me and whomever is left."
The elk noses the fruit, eats it, and then whickers a bit, snorts, and runs up the side of the Crevasse as nimbly as a mountain goat.
***
"Well, then," says Erdija, collecting her arrows. "That's that."
For the next day and half, the hike up the Crevasse is uneventful; you mainly see blue skies, feel bracing winds (it must be far worse out of the Crevasse), hear the roar of the river, and follow Erdija's swishing tail and rump past scree, tumbled rocks, and cottonwoods and willows that follow the lines of the wind. The rocks change from granite grey to basalt black.
After a snowy cirque of a rise that threatens to expose you to the icy wind of the plains, you enter another defile, wide and vast, deeper than other parts, with the cliffs towering above you.
Wispy clouds race across the gleaming blue sky overhead, but the floor of the crevasse lies in shadow, the sunlight blotted out by the massive cliffs on either side. Gray grasses and scraggly trees poke through drifts of ice and snow, weaving their way through black boulders that lie at the base of the towering cliffs.
Crudely carved into the face of these cliffs, several miles apart, stand three impossible sculptures that each rise over half a mile in height. Each carving depicts a naked humanoid woman holding forth a warning hand. The first resembles a young maiden with flowing hair, the second depicts a pregnant matron, and the third a stooped and withered crone.
Intelligence Flat Check 20 or Nature 25:
You note that the moon is waxing gibbous, so according to the crow Oracles in the Hut, you should be able to access the Maiden's Door on top of Artrosa. At full moon, in a week, the Mother's Door will open, and then the Crone's Door.
The icy armor melts away to show the body of a tall, muscular fey lord with large antlers, which fall off almost immediately--perhaps they were held on by the covering of ice. The lord is pale and withered, despite its (his?) huge, bulky musculature, with skin like pale parchment. A ragged, puckered X of a scar slashes across its chest, stitched together with pale blue ribbon and from the scar issues a truly foul scent. Though the lord seemed like one undead, the all too real blood belies its corpse-like state; it must have been, horrifyingly, alive, although not a life that resembled anything of warmth or kindness.
The glaive also disappears, soaking the ground with so much meltwater.
Two sky blue aquamarine gems and a horn that radiates magic can be found in his riding satchel. Nothing else of worth is found.
The rider clutches at its antlered head in screeching pain, and is then knocked to the ground by Elbrynn-Roc. It lands in a heap, clearly broken. Whatever semblance of life animated it has moved on to the river of souls. The giant elk stamps and bolts in fear, running to near the rocks at the shoreline of the river to shiver and cower, like a much smaller animal.
As you gaze at the rider, its glaive and armor begin to visibly melt.
Erdija drops her bow and gallops into the mist. You can hear quite the thud as three combatants collide. A moment later the elk erupts from the mist...riderless.
"I got him! Oof!" you can hear the centaur shout from inside the confines of the mist.
Players are up! Remember that the Mist confers 20% miss chance...but...rider is Blind AND Grappled
The elk and its dark rider swoop past Dez again. For a moment it looks like the glaive will come dangerously close to the tiefling's neck...and then the shimmer of Yrja's hex is in the air, and it touches nothing. The rider brings his steed to wheel about and face the party.
Erdija releases two more arrows; one finds its home in the rider's shoulder.
"We're going to wear you down, man of ice," she says contemptuously. "Run along to your Queen before we break you into pieces.
