You realized after several hours of trekking that something was wrong. Harrington was not supposed to be this far from Tringlee. The mists had blotted out the sky and the imposing backdrop of the Lortmil mountains that occasionally peeked through breaks in the forest canopy was lost to a uniform slate gray.
As the day wore on and the mists refused to be dispelled by the midday sun, You were now faced with a choice. Should you consume the rations you had brought along or preserve them for the uncertain journey ahead?
DM note: Please mention if you intend to consume your starting ration, half of it, or keep it for later. Deduct it from your character sheet accordingly.
Eventually, night fell like a blanket of darkness. You seemed no closer to Harrington and all attempts to find the road between your destination and Tringlee had failed. You thought about making camp and awaiting the arrival of daylight, but…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For Skanon ONLY:
As night fell, you wondered if you had crossed the thin line between bravery and foolhardiness by journeying into the forest so close to sunset. The family you were supposed to meet had not specified how long it would take to traverse the forest. You thought about making camp and awaiting the arrival of daylight, but…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For Gaelyn Umber ONLY:
As you wandered in the fog, your rune-carving mentor’s voice rang in your head. Cruel and dismissive, it was entirely unlike the mentor you had known. His disembodied voice placed the blame for fallen comrades squarely on you, disappointment dripping from his every poisoned word. You wondered if the malicious mist was showing you hidden truths or if it was a trick of the necromancers your regiment had been hunting. As you struggled to clear your thoughts…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For Veronica Osborne ONLY:
Blinded by your own shame and anger, you sprinted through the misty forest. You heard a man’s voice in your head, whispering soothing nothings at you, like how one might try to calm a skittish animal. It told you everything was going to turn out fine, there was no need to fight or flee. You are home…and he will take good care of you. A sliver of hesitation gripped you and…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For all characters:
The mist grew thick and cloying as the trees beyond your arm’s reach were swallowed by the roiling white fog. A chill cut through the air and swirls in the mist shaped themselves into gnarled ghostly hands, grasping at your face and body. When you tried brushing one away, it scattered and two more formed in its place, accompanied by a man’s mocking laugh echoing quietly in your ears, as if someone enjoyed watching your discomfort from a distance.
The hands seemed to force themselves into your lungs with every breath, even creatures who did not need to breathe would have felt the mist pushing past their skin and into their bones. With each intrusion, you felt a supernatural weariness sapping your strength, as if you had walked a mile carrying a heavy pack filled with stones.
Trapped between the trees, a portion of the malevolent mist ahead of you cleared slightly, just enough for you to make out the treeline where the mist-choked forest ended. A rutted dirt path ran in the open just outside the treeline and beyond it you saw the shapes of tents and wagons backlit by the warmth of a campfire. Mournful strains of an accordion being played slowly can be heard emanating from the campsite.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Nine Hells!” Gaelyngasps.
The fighter swings away with the flat of his blade, trying to clear the invasive vapor from crawling into his lungs. His mentor's voice is far more chilling than the fog. He tries (and fails) to ignore the stinging words.
Is this… is this how it happens? To live through a dozen proper skirmishes only to die all alone in a haunted forest? Nine Hells. Nine Hells! This was really happening!
At the sight of the opening, he bulls forward. When he gets clear, he rolls on the ground, stands up, and swats at his clothes like he's putting out flames.
Gaelyn takes a full minute to catch his breath, the whole time eyeing the woods and their spooky mists. Slowly the music and the inviting firelight and tents draw his attention.
(Perception Check: 6 )
If there appears to be no immediate danger… Gaelyn will spit, keep his blade in a lowered guard, and move towards the fire cautiously.
A slim elf in a long duster of shades of green and brown with a pack over his shoulders, warily made his way through the fog. His long, black hair was tied back and his green eyes seemed to shine in the fog. The studded, green leather shirt was cold and clammy, despite the linen undershirt, his loose, brown, leather pants and tall, black boots were wet with dew from the tall grasses and low shrubs wet leaves. His long bow was slung over his shoulder, and as the sense of dread grew, he drew his long, elven sword. In this fog, an enemy would be on him before he could draw and aim an arrow.
Batting the fog away with the sword, he heard the mournful tune of the accordion before he saw the camp. When he saw the camp ahead, he stopped momentarily and sized up the fire, tents and wagons. His ears strained till he heard the voices of children from the camp. Sheathing the sword, he checked the dagger on his hip and in his boot, before he hailed the camp.
"Suilad a eithel govannen, Mellon," as he walked boldly into the camp, then repeated the same in the common human tongue, "Greetings and well met, friends"
Veronica gasps as ghostly hands wrap around her... she starts clawing at the mist, like a cornered beast in a trap!
As the mists part, she doesn't waste the opportunity! She dashed for the opening.
Free of the mists, she stops to collect herself and take in her surroundings... the camp in the distance. The music playing. And especially the three strangers she has suddenly found herself with.
The woman looks mostly human, but she is extremely pale, contrasting with her raven hair that is currently badly tangled from her run through the misty forest. Perhaps most striking of all are her eyes... her eyes are blood red, and in the dim light appear slightly luminous.
Though a bit dishevelled, it is clear that she is, or was, a lady of nobility as her torn gown is made of beautiful silks and tastefully adorned with a few precious stones and pearl buttons.
She lets out a sigh and does her best to comb out her tangled hair with her fingers while she slowly approaches the camp. She continues to scan the area for threats as she walks.
Skanon's tail wrapped around his tail like a snake around it's prey as he heard the mocking laugh in the fog and the ghostly hands that grasped at him. It was like something out of a nightmare the only difference was that he was awake. Even though the urge to turn tail and try running back the way he had come was in his mind he shook his head slightly and continued forwards against his better judgement.
When he notices that he was close to the treeline he momentarily leaned his staff against a nearby tree then he ran his fingers through his hair to make the slightly messy white hair look a little more presentable and adjusted the straps of his pack before taking hold of his staff once again. As he steps out of the woods a curious hum escaped him as he spotted what appeared to be tents and wagons. 'Perhaps they also got lost in the fog and decided to set up camp?' He thought as he slowly began to approach the campfire that had illuminated the forms of the tents and wagons that he'd spotted.
The sound of the accordion sent a shiver down his spine as he continued to get closer to the fire, it was beautiful in a sort of chilling manner and once he was close enough he paused for a moment before taking a breath. "Salutations... I apologize for the intrusion..." He trailed off slightly and gently tugged on his collar a little.
The both of you glanced around cautiously. It seemed the owners of the campsite had not assigned guards or they were simply very well hidden. A lithe humanoid form with sheathed weapons stepped out from the treeline, walked right past you, and strode boldly toward the campfire to greet the people gathered around it. Followed shortly by another figure, this one with a tail and horns, his white hair glinting in the firelight as he combed his fingers through it.
For Everyone:
“Ah. Travelers,” said a white-haired human man smoking a curly pipe and lounging in the grass. He was the eldest amongst the twelve brightly clad humans standing and sitting around the campfire. Creases overtook the man’s wrinkled face as he smiled at Garavon and Skanon’s greetings, “No, you aren’t intruding at all, we’ve been expecting you. Madam Eva had foretold your arrival and she would be delighted to see you.” He pointed at the largest tent in the encampment.
“Or if you’d prefer to sit with us and go see her later, there’s plenty of room around the fire and wine to go around.” He gestured at the empty patch of grass next to him. Wine bottles in various states of emptiness littered the area around the fire, it was apparent the twelve humans here were intoxicated.
The source of the accordion music, another human man with long black hair and a horseshoe mustache, paused long enough for the elder to speak before continuing to play. Several younger members of the group stole glances at Garavon and nudged one another, as if daring each other to speak with the tall, handsome stranger that had appeared in their midst. The ones closest to Skanon moved a few inches away from him, ostensibly to give Skanon more space around the fire, but they could just as easily be prejudiced toward tieflings.
The elder called out to Gaelyn and Veronica who were cautiously approaching the camp, “You there! In the cold! Come, come! There is no need to fear, your arrival was foretold. We are the Vistani and our camp is open to you.”
Under the light of a crescent moon, you could see the encampment was sandwiched between the dirt path and a river that widened to form a small lake several hundred feet across. Five colorful round tents, each ten feet in diameter, were pitched outside a ring of four barrel-topped wagons. The largest tent stood near the shore of the lake, its sagging form lit from within. Near this tent, eight unbridled horses drank from the river.
For Victoria Traakimash:
As soon as the mist took on a consistency you knew to be dangerous, you moved to a safer patch of gound before calling out to the figures you saw. They did not seem to notice you, but instead moved toward the Vistani camp like moths to a flame. Your upbringing as a Barovian had conditioned you not to trust the Vistani, but these foreigners seemed oblivious to the deceit that awaited them. However, you understood that if you made a scene and the foreigners chose to defend the Vistani, you would be outnumbered fifteen-to-one.
Garavon notes the strangely accented common, as well as the others who have emerged from the woods, but does not take a seat, nor approach any closer. "Vastani? I have not heard of your people. Nor do I recognize this place. Certainly it is not the Lortmil mountains. Can you tell me how I came to be here?"
“Madam Eva said you’d be here and here you are, right as always,” the old man said, smiling in Garavon’s direction. “Beyond that, we do not know the paths you took to arrive. You, my friend, are in Barovia. This land, its people, and its master, Lord Strahd von Zarovich who rules from Castle Ravenloft, are cursed to remain here forever. Only we, the VIS-tani,” he emphasized the first syllable, “may pass safely through the mists that surround these lands.”
Garavon looked more closely at the wagons in the encampment and noted they looked more like mobile homes than temporary abodes. He was reminded of the few Rhennee or Rhenfolk who had forsaken their boats and took to the land, who lived in similar wagon trains. The Rhenfolk were widely persecuted in the Duchy of Urnst and commonly thought of as criminals and thieves.
“We have a secret you see, to pass through the mist,” interjected the accordion player, “and it can be yours for only a hundred gold pieces.” The other Vistani around the fire nodded in agreement, as if deciding unanimously that a hundred gold pieces was a fair price for their secret.
Skanon watched this conversation with his smuggling background and realized the hefty price could be needed for some kind of bribe at the border, or it could simply be an attempt to fleece the ignorant or desperate.
Even though he was use to people avoiding him due to his infernal heritage, Skanon gave himself a quick sniff just to be safe. After a couple seconds he shrugged slightly before shifting his attention towards Garavon and then towards the tent that the older man had pointed out. "How long have you been expecting us?" He questioned hoping to rule out the possibility of it being a trap. There was a hint of worry knawing at the back of his mind as he took a step in the direction of the tent but he stopped for a moment to see what the other newcomers would do.
The old man looked up at the night sky and addressed Skanon, “Madam Eva told us two moons ago that a group of adventurers would show up if we made camp here. We know not what they would look like, nor how many there would be. She bade us to come here and send you her way when you arrived.”
He sighed, “I’ve lived for many moons and you aren’t the first group of adventurers I’ve seen. No doubt she’ll tell you breaking the curse on this land is the only way you can escape. Many have tried and perished. If you want my advice, take Oleg’s offer.” He pointed at the accordion player who wanted to sell the Vistani’s secrets for a hundred gold pieces. “Help him and his family and he’ll teach you how to leave Barovia.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Victoria begins to follow behind the figures, careful not to make any noise. Hiding just outside the Vistani camp, she picks up Latagu, and tries to listen in to what happens during the conversation. Stealth: 17. Perception: 11. Eventually, she exits her hiding spot, saying, "Hello, to you all... Sorry to interrupt." She then puts Latagu on her shoulder.
In her head, Victoria begins to thank Strahd for his mercy upon her, and for not leaving her to choke in the fog. Suddenly, she notices her subconscious thanking Strahd, and immediately shakes her head, tutting to herself for doing that. She takes a wild berry she recognises to be edible from her basket and eats it, passing an egg to Latagu to eat.
Look what you've done, spoiling it for you and everyone who can see this screen. You're a disgrace, you know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of but yourself, you moster!
But to be completely fair, every monster has a cute side, like have you seen people draw goblins? Goblins look so cool! You're fine, you may seem like a monster, but I bet you're cute on the inside!
Victoria came into the firelight from an unexpected angle. As you passed one of the wagons, you could hear someone snoring within. It was apparent there were more people in this camp than those seated around the fire. The Vistani around the fire failed to notice your approach and spun in surprise in your direction when you began to speak.
Most of them had their hands halfway to what were presumably their weapons, concealed beneath their colourful clothing, before the old man said, “More adventurers! I wonder how many more would show up tonight…a word of warning adventurer, you may be dressed as a local,” Victoria’s half-orc ancestry had caused the old man to assume she wasn’t Barovian, “but should you approach people from the shadows, you are likely to get stabbed or shot before they are willing to listen. Come. Join us, don't be shy.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Skanon nodded slightly as his tail began to slowly unwrap itself from his leg. Even though the worry was still present he gave the old man a kind smile. "I see, I see. This is certainly an unusual situation but I'd feel awful to not at least greet her now. It must have been difficult not knowing what they'd look like sir." He responded with a slightly apologetic look on his face.
When he heard another voice he turned his head and gave the newcomer a small wave before turning his attention towards the accordion player and bowing his head slightly. His coin purse was certainly much lighter than it had been before he had set out to meet with the family he'd helped all those years ago and he was starting to regret buying that back up spell book now. "I wish you many more moons my good sir. It wouldn't be the first time I've been dragged into something like this although breaking a curse would be a first in my book." He fell silent as he thought about his own mortality for a moment, while he had always had a fascination when it came to death he was also quite terrified of the uncertainty that awaited him once he met his own untimely demise. He shivered slightly at the thought before walking over to Oleg with a soft hint of a smile. "I'm a little strapped for gold at the moment but I'd be happy to help you and your family."
a word of warning adventurer, you may be dressed as a local,” Victoria’s half-orc ancestry had caused the old man to assume she wasn’t Barovian, “but should you approach people from the shadows, you are likely to get stabbed or shot before they are willing to listen.
Can I ask for a summary of what this means? I can't tell if he knows if I'm from Barovia after seeing the part inbetween the speech.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at it! Beauty! A spoiler!
Look what you've done, spoiling it for you and everyone who can see this screen. You're a disgrace, you know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of but yourself, you moster!
But to be completely fair, every monster has a cute side, like have you seen people draw goblins? Goblins look so cool! You're fine, you may seem like a monster, but I bet you're cute on the inside!
a word of warning adventurer, you may be dressed as a local,” Victoria’s half-orc ancestry had caused the old man to assume she wasn’t Barovian, “but should you approach people from the shadows, you are likely to get stabbed or shot before they are willing to listen.
Can I ask for a summary of what this means? I can't tell if he knows if I'm from Barovia after seeing the part inbetween the speech.
You grew up in Barovia, but non-humans are rare here. Your parents lived outside of the major settlements but they've never told you why.
The Vistani assume you are not Barovian, but are one of the foretold adventurers.
Victoria came into the firelight from an unexpected angle. As you passed one of the wagons, you could hear someone snoring within. It was apparent there were more people in this camp than those seated around the fire. The Vistani around the fire failed to notice your approach and spun in surprise in your direction when you began to speak.
Most of them had their hands halfway to what were presumably their weapons, concealed beneath their colourful clothing, before the old man said, “More adventurers! I wonder how many more would show up tonight…a word of warning adventurer, you may be dressed as a local,” Victoria’s half-orc ancestry had caused the old man to assume she wasn’t Barovian, “but should you approach people from the shadows, you are likely to get stabbed or shot before they are willing to listen. Come. Join us, don't be shy.”
Victoria, relieved the Vistani men had not much suspicion of her, looked around at the other foretold adventurers, giving them each smiles, and then one to Oleg and another to the older man.
"Who is this, Madam Eva you have just mentioned? She sounds important to you many people, how come she knew that we'd stumble upon you? And I do apologize for, barging in, as such. I didn't know what was happening when I got... here..."
Victoria then strokes Latagu, and puts him into the basket to rest.
P.S. Out of character, I now realise that I made it sound like I was waiting a couple minutes between the first people to enter the camp and then me entering the camp. I'd like to think it was just ten (maybe less) seconds. I believe I entered around the time Oleg made his offer of 100 for an escape.
Look what you've done, spoiling it for you and everyone who can see this screen. You're a disgrace, you know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of but yourself, you moster!
But to be completely fair, every monster has a cute side, like have you seen people draw goblins? Goblins look so cool! You're fine, you may seem like a monster, but I bet you're cute on the inside!
The Vistani are telling the truth about being the only ones allowed safe passage in Barovia and to freely leave and enter it. However, they either aren't willing or are incapable of passing on their secret to others. The offer to sell you their secret reeks of an attempt to fleece the ignorant.
{DM note: I'll leave the decision to sneak a peek at Skanon's insight in the spoiler up to individual players. Coloring character dialogue seems to be a thing, let me put NPC dialogue in bold and see how that works out.}
Oleg shrugged and said, "No worries my horned friend, keep your gold. You'll need it more than we do. You can buy our secret from us the next time we come back to Barovia when you have enough...if you're still alive by then. Sorry! I shouldn't jinx you at the start of your journey in Barovia, it's almost as bad as giving you the Evil Eye. I wish you safe travels friend. Who knows, you might actually be the one to finally break the curse!"
For Everyone:
The elder looked at Victoria and explained, "Madam Eva is gifted with foresight and a long life, she knows the secrets to divining fate from a Tarokka Deck. She was old when I was a boy and has outlived everyone I know. We Vistani respect our elders and there is no one older than Madam Eva among us."
As soon as I get home I will pop in the link.
Posting this again so that it is more obvious, these were the 4 who were the first to post ready-to-play characters.
We are at 4/4 players and recruitment is closed.
I can't figure out how to change the thread's tags on my phone, so that will have to wait until I have access to a PC.
Here's the first scene. Have fun :)
For Garavon of the Silverwood ONLY:
You realized after several hours of trekking that something was wrong. Harrington was not supposed to be this far from Tringlee. The mists had blotted out the sky and the imposing backdrop of the Lortmil mountains that occasionally peeked through breaks in the forest canopy was lost to a uniform slate gray.
As the day wore on and the mists refused to be dispelled by the midday sun, You were now faced with a choice. Should you consume the rations you had brought along or preserve them for the uncertain journey ahead?
DM note: Please mention if you intend to consume your starting ration, half of it, or keep it for later. Deduct it from your character sheet accordingly.
Eventually, night fell like a blanket of darkness. You seemed no closer to Harrington and all attempts to find the road between your destination and Tringlee had failed. You thought about making camp and awaiting the arrival of daylight, but…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For Skanon ONLY:
As night fell, you wondered if you had crossed the thin line between bravery and foolhardiness by journeying into the forest so close to sunset. The family you were supposed to meet had not specified how long it would take to traverse the forest. You thought about making camp and awaiting the arrival of daylight, but…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For Gaelyn Umber ONLY:
As you wandered in the fog, your rune-carving mentor’s voice rang in your head. Cruel and dismissive, it was entirely unlike the mentor you had known. His disembodied voice placed the blame for fallen comrades squarely on you, disappointment dripping from his every poisoned word. You wondered if the malicious mist was showing you hidden truths or if it was a trick of the necromancers your regiment had been hunting. As you struggled to clear your thoughts…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For Veronica Osborne ONLY:
Blinded by your own shame and anger, you sprinted through the misty forest. You heard a man’s voice in your head, whispering soothing nothings at you, like how one might try to calm a skittish animal. It told you everything was going to turn out fine, there was no need to fight or flee. You are home…and he will take good care of you. A sliver of hesitation gripped you and…
Please scroll down and read the “For all characters” section.
For all characters:
The mist grew thick and cloying as the trees beyond your arm’s reach were swallowed by the roiling white fog. A chill cut through the air and swirls in the mist shaped themselves into gnarled ghostly hands, grasping at your face and body. When you tried brushing one away, it scattered and two more formed in its place, accompanied by a man’s mocking laugh echoing quietly in your ears, as if someone enjoyed watching your discomfort from a distance.
The hands seemed to force themselves into your lungs with every breath, even creatures who did not need to breathe would have felt the mist pushing past their skin and into their bones. With each intrusion, you felt a supernatural weariness sapping your strength, as if you had walked a mile carrying a heavy pack filled with stones.
Trapped between the trees, a portion of the malevolent mist ahead of you cleared slightly, just enough for you to make out the treeline where the mist-choked forest ended. A rutted dirt path ran in the open just outside the treeline and beyond it you saw the shapes of tents and wagons backlit by the warmth of a campfire. Mournful strains of an accordion being played slowly can be heard emanating from the campsite.
What do you do?
"Nine Hells!” Gaelyn gasps.
The fighter swings away with the flat of his blade, trying to clear the invasive vapor from crawling into his lungs. His mentor's voice is far more chilling than the fog. He tries (and fails) to ignore the stinging words.
Is this… is this how it happens? To live through a dozen proper skirmishes only to die all alone in a haunted forest? Nine Hells. Nine Hells! This was really happening!
At the sight of the opening, he bulls forward. When he gets clear, he rolls on the ground, stands up, and swats at his clothes like he's putting out flames.
Gaelyn takes a full minute to catch his breath, the whole time eyeing the woods and their spooky mists. Slowly the music and the inviting firelight and tents draw his attention.
(Perception Check: 6 )
If there appears to be no immediate danger… Gaelyn will spit, keep his blade in a lowered guard, and move towards the fire cautiously.
A slim elf in a long duster of shades of green and brown with a pack over his shoulders, warily made his way through the fog. His long, black hair was tied back and his green eyes seemed to shine in the fog. The studded, green leather shirt was cold and clammy, despite the linen undershirt, his loose, brown, leather pants and tall, black boots were wet with dew from the tall grasses and low shrubs wet leaves. His long bow was slung over his shoulder, and as the sense of dread grew, he drew his long, elven sword. In this fog, an enemy would be on him before he could draw and aim an arrow.
Batting the fog away with the sword, he heard the mournful tune of the accordion before he saw the camp. When he saw the camp ahead, he stopped momentarily and sized up the fire, tents and wagons. His ears strained till he heard the voices of children from the camp. Sheathing the sword, he checked the dagger on his hip and in his boot, before he hailed the camp.
"Suilad a eithel govannen, Mellon," as he walked boldly into the camp, then repeated the same in the common human tongue, "Greetings and well met, friends"
"ALWAYS GIVE A MONSTER AN EVEN BREAK!"
1st Edition DMG
Veronica gasps as ghostly hands wrap around her... she starts clawing at the mist, like a cornered beast in a trap!
As the mists part, she doesn't waste the opportunity! She dashed for the opening.
Free of the mists, she stops to collect herself and take in her surroundings... the camp in the distance. The music playing. And especially the three strangers she has suddenly found herself with.
The woman looks mostly human, but she is extremely pale, contrasting with her raven hair that is currently badly tangled from her run through the misty forest. Perhaps most striking of all are her eyes... her eyes are blood red, and in the dim light appear slightly luminous.
Though a bit dishevelled, it is clear that she is, or was, a lady of nobility as her torn gown is made of beautiful silks and tastefully adorned with a few precious stones and pearl buttons.
She lets out a sigh and does her best to comb out her tangled hair with her fingers while she slowly approaches the camp. She continues to scan the area for threats as she walks.
Perception: 14
Victoria Traakimash, a half-orc druid - played by colloquium will be joining us on our adventures. This is now a 5-person party.
Skanon's tail wrapped around his tail like a snake around it's prey as he heard the mocking laugh in the fog and the ghostly hands that grasped at him. It was like something out of a nightmare the only difference was that he was awake. Even though the urge to turn tail and try running back the way he had come was in his mind he shook his head slightly and continued forwards against his better judgement.
When he notices that he was close to the treeline he momentarily leaned his staff against a nearby tree then he ran his fingers through his hair to make the slightly messy white hair look a little more presentable and adjusted the straps of his pack before taking hold of his staff once again. As he steps out of the woods a curious hum escaped him as he spotted what appeared to be tents and wagons. 'Perhaps they also got lost in the fog and decided to set up camp?' He thought as he slowly began to approach the campfire that had illuminated the forms of the tents and wagons that he'd spotted.
The sound of the accordion sent a shiver down his spine as he continued to get closer to the fire, it was beautiful in a sort of chilling manner and once he was close enough he paused for a moment before taking a breath. "Salutations... I apologize for the intrusion..." He trailed off slightly and gently tugged on his collar a little.
For Gaelyn Umber and Veronica Osborne:
The both of you glanced around cautiously. It seemed the owners of the campsite had not assigned guards or they were simply very well hidden. A lithe humanoid form with sheathed weapons stepped out from the treeline, walked right past you, and strode boldly toward the campfire to greet the people gathered around it. Followed shortly by another figure, this one with a tail and horns, his white hair glinting in the firelight as he combed his fingers through it.
For Everyone:
“Ah. Travelers,” said a white-haired human man smoking a curly pipe and lounging in the grass. He was the eldest amongst the twelve brightly clad humans standing and sitting around the campfire. Creases overtook the man’s wrinkled face as he smiled at Garavon and Skanon’s greetings, “No, you aren’t intruding at all, we’ve been expecting you. Madam Eva had foretold your arrival and she would be delighted to see you.” He pointed at the largest tent in the encampment.
“Or if you’d prefer to sit with us and go see her later, there’s plenty of room around the fire and wine to go around.” He gestured at the empty patch of grass next to him. Wine bottles in various states of emptiness littered the area around the fire, it was apparent the twelve humans here were intoxicated.
The source of the accordion music, another human man with long black hair and a horseshoe mustache, paused long enough for the elder to speak before continuing to play. Several younger members of the group stole glances at Garavon and nudged one another, as if daring each other to speak with the tall, handsome stranger that had appeared in their midst. The ones closest to Skanon moved a few inches away from him, ostensibly to give Skanon more space around the fire, but they could just as easily be prejudiced toward tieflings.
The elder called out to Gaelyn and Veronica who were cautiously approaching the camp, “You there! In the cold! Come, come! There is no need to fear, your arrival was foretold. We are the Vistani and our camp is open to you.”
Under the light of a crescent moon, you could see the encampment was sandwiched between the dirt path and a river that widened to form a small lake several hundred feet across. Five colorful round tents, each ten feet in diameter, were pitched outside a ring of four barrel-topped wagons. The largest tent stood near the shore of the lake, its sagging form lit from within. Near this tent, eight unbridled horses drank from the river.
For Victoria Traakimash:
As soon as the mist took on a consistency you knew to be dangerous, you moved to a safer patch of gound before calling out to the figures you saw. They did not seem to notice you, but instead moved toward the Vistani camp like moths to a flame. Your upbringing as a Barovian had conditioned you not to trust the Vistani, but these foreigners seemed oblivious to the deceit that awaited them. However, you understood that if you made a scene and the foreigners chose to defend the Vistani, you would be outnumbered fifteen-to-one.
What do you do?
Garavon notes the strangely accented common, as well as the others who have emerged from the woods, but does not take a seat, nor approach any closer. "Vastani? I have not heard of your people. Nor do I recognize this place. Certainly it is not the Lortmil mountains. Can you tell me how I came to be here?"
"ALWAYS GIVE A MONSTER AN EVEN BREAK!"
1st Edition DMG
“Madam Eva said you’d be here and here you are, right as always,” the old man said, smiling in Garavon’s direction. “Beyond that, we do not know the paths you took to arrive. You, my friend, are in Barovia. This land, its people, and its master, Lord Strahd von Zarovich who rules from Castle Ravenloft, are cursed to remain here forever. Only we, the VIS-tani,” he emphasized the first syllable, “may pass safely through the mists that surround these lands.”
Garavon looked more closely at the wagons in the encampment and noted they looked more like mobile homes than temporary abodes. He was reminded of the few Rhennee or Rhenfolk who had forsaken their boats and took to the land, who lived in similar wagon trains. The Rhenfolk were widely persecuted in the Duchy of Urnst and commonly thought of as criminals and thieves.
“We have a secret you see, to pass through the mist,” interjected the accordion player, “and it can be yours for only a hundred gold pieces.” The other Vistani around the fire nodded in agreement, as if deciding unanimously that a hundred gold pieces was a fair price for their secret.
Skanon watched this conversation with his smuggling background and realized the hefty price could be needed for some kind of bribe at the border, or it could simply be an attempt to fleece the ignorant or desperate.
Even though he was use to people avoiding him due to his infernal heritage, Skanon gave himself a quick sniff just to be safe. After a couple seconds he shrugged slightly before shifting his attention towards Garavon and then towards the tent that the older man had pointed out. "How long have you been expecting us?" He questioned hoping to rule out the possibility of it being a trap. There was a hint of worry knawing at the back of his mind as he took a step in the direction of the tent but he stopped for a moment to see what the other newcomers would do.
The old man looked up at the night sky and addressed Skanon, “Madam Eva told us two moons ago that a group of adventurers would show up if we made camp here. We know not what they would look like, nor how many there would be. She bade us to come here and send you her way when you arrived.”
He sighed, “I’ve lived for many moons and you aren’t the first group of adventurers I’ve seen. No doubt she’ll tell you breaking the curse on this land is the only way you can escape. Many have tried and perished. If you want my advice, take Oleg’s offer.” He pointed at the accordion player who wanted to sell the Vistani’s secrets for a hundred gold pieces. “Help him and his family and he’ll teach you how to leave Barovia.”
Victoria begins to follow behind the figures, careful not to make any noise. Hiding just outside the Vistani camp, she picks up Latagu, and tries to listen in to what happens during the conversation. Stealth: 17. Perception: 11. Eventually, she exits her hiding spot, saying, "Hello, to you all... Sorry to interrupt." She then puts Latagu on her shoulder.
In her head, Victoria begins to thank Strahd for his mercy upon her, and for not leaving her to choke in the fog. Suddenly, she notices her subconscious thanking Strahd, and immediately shakes her head, tutting to herself for doing that. She takes a wild berry she recognises to be edible from her basket and eats it, passing an egg to Latagu to eat.
Look at it! Beauty! A spoiler!
Look what you've done, spoiling it for you and everyone who can see this screen. You're a disgrace, you know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of but yourself, you moster!
But to be completely fair, every monster has a cute side, like have you seen people draw goblins? Goblins look so cool! You're fine, you may seem like a monster, but I bet you're cute on the inside!
Hope I've made your day!
Victoria came into the firelight from an unexpected angle. As you passed one of the wagons, you could hear someone snoring within. It was apparent there were more people in this camp than those seated around the fire. The Vistani around the fire failed to notice your approach and spun in surprise in your direction when you began to speak.
Most of them had their hands halfway to what were presumably their weapons, concealed beneath their colourful clothing, before the old man said, “More adventurers! I wonder how many more would show up tonight…a word of warning adventurer, you may be dressed as a local,” Victoria’s half-orc ancestry had caused the old man to assume she wasn’t Barovian, “but should you approach people from the shadows, you are likely to get stabbed or shot before they are willing to listen. Come. Join us, don't be shy.”
Skanon nodded slightly as his tail began to slowly unwrap itself from his leg. Even though the worry was still present he gave the old man a kind smile. "I see, I see. This is certainly an unusual situation but I'd feel awful to not at least greet her now. It must have been difficult not knowing what they'd look like sir." He responded with a slightly apologetic look on his face.
When he heard another voice he turned his head and gave the newcomer a small wave before turning his attention towards the accordion player and bowing his head slightly. His coin purse was certainly much lighter than it had been before he had set out to meet with the family he'd helped all those years ago and he was starting to regret buying that back up spell book now. "I wish you many more moons my good sir. It wouldn't be the first time I've been dragged into something like this although breaking a curse would be a first in my book." He fell silent as he thought about his own mortality for a moment, while he had always had a fascination when it came to death he was also quite terrified of the uncertainty that awaited him once he met his own untimely demise. He shivered slightly at the thought before walking over to Oleg with a soft hint of a smile. "I'm a little strapped for gold at the moment but I'd be happy to help you and your family."
Insight: 2
Can I ask for a summary of what this means? I can't tell if he knows if I'm from Barovia after seeing the part inbetween the speech.
Look at it! Beauty! A spoiler!
Look what you've done, spoiling it for you and everyone who can see this screen. You're a disgrace, you know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of but yourself, you moster!
But to be completely fair, every monster has a cute side, like have you seen people draw goblins? Goblins look so cool! You're fine, you may seem like a monster, but I bet you're cute on the inside!
Hope I've made your day!
You grew up in Barovia, but non-humans are rare here. Your parents lived outside of the major settlements but they've never told you why.
The Vistani assume you are not Barovian, but are one of the foretold adventurers.
Victoria, relieved the Vistani men had not much suspicion of her, looked around at the other foretold adventurers, giving them each smiles, and then one to Oleg and another to the older man.
"Who is this, Madam Eva you have just mentioned? She sounds important to you many people, how come she knew that we'd stumble upon you? And I do apologize for, barging in, as such. I didn't know what was happening when I got... here..."
Victoria then strokes Latagu, and puts him into the basket to rest.
P.S. Out of character, I now realise that I made it sound like I was waiting a couple minutes between the first people to enter the camp and then me entering the camp. I'd like to think it was just ten (maybe less) seconds. I believe I entered around the time Oleg made his offer of 100 for an escape.
Look at it! Beauty! A spoiler!
Look what you've done, spoiling it for you and everyone who can see this screen. You're a disgrace, you know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of but yourself, you moster!
But to be completely fair, every monster has a cute side, like have you seen people draw goblins? Goblins look so cool! You're fine, you may seem like a monster, but I bet you're cute on the inside!
Hope I've made your day!
For Skanon:
Your insight revealed...
The Vistani are telling the truth about being the only ones allowed safe passage in Barovia and to freely leave and enter it. However, they either aren't willing or are incapable of passing on their secret to others. The offer to sell you their secret reeks of an attempt to fleece the ignorant.
{DM note: I'll leave the decision to sneak a peek at Skanon's insight in the spoiler up to individual players. Coloring character dialogue seems to be a thing, let me put NPC dialogue in bold and see how that works out.}
Oleg shrugged and said, "No worries my horned friend, keep your gold. You'll need it more than we do. You can buy our secret from us the next time we come back to Barovia when you have enough...if you're still alive by then. Sorry! I shouldn't jinx you at the start of your journey in Barovia, it's almost as bad as giving you the Evil Eye. I wish you safe travels friend. Who knows, you might actually be the one to finally break the curse!"
For Everyone:
The elder looked at Victoria and explained, "Madam Eva is gifted with foresight and a long life, she knows the secrets to divining fate from a Tarokka Deck. She was old when I was a boy and has outlived everyone I know. We Vistani respect our elders and there is no one older than Madam Eva among us."