The guards had initially ignored Jack only due to suddenly noticing Beren. As the group talks amongst themselves they eventually hear him saying that he is not in fact the 'Avatar of the Sun' and what little hope had shone on their faces moments before became dim, as they settled back to their stoic selves, if slightly deflated. One of the guards finally acknowledges Jack. His response is gruff, and offputting as he says That sounds like your problem - Outsider. if he is not who we thought, then you will have to explain who and what he is. Some new monstrosity created by Strahd? I don't know where you came from, but you're not welcome here. The wine you offer would only be a temporary treat, and if you are part of some new ploy to get in here then it'd be US responsible for it.
We have plenty of wine thanks to the Wizards of wine.
The guards eyes shift to the prostrating 'elf' then back to Jack. You want a place to stay? then the elf camp outside the walls is good enough for you. And who, or whatever Beren is can stay there too. Unless you have the Bergomasters daughter safe in hand, none of you will enter this town. We can't have you ruining the festival. once revealed that beren wasn't who they thought they had become cold. Perhaps they had been cold before but as you had never met these people before you had nothing to compare with.
Savid seems to sigh but his expression is clearly one lacking in surprise. He looks to Jack apologetically but shrugs in a 'what can you do' fashion. He looks to the drow, though his expression doesn't match that of someone who's seen one before. A curious flicker goes across his features in contemplation, before he shakes his head. Finalyl, Savid sighs, and looks to the guards.
Look, you both know me as Savid. These ... people aided me when I was upon deaths door. he hesitated for moment, considering whether or not to add in 'except her' - before pushing on. They have already told me they would be willing to look for Arabelle.... They have proven themselves trustworthy to me, they even healed my wounds at the expense of their own resources. Without that, you'd not know if Arabelle was near the Manse, and would have to send more scouts out just to verify.
Then, Noel chimes in with some additionals. Yes. We'll help find this little girl. We're no allies of Strahd. In fact lastnight we ... watched him kill a child. I believe his name was... Zelkova. Strahd blew them all apart with a fiery explosion.... right before my eyes.
The guards share a glance. As the drow hasn't addressed them, they continue ignoring her outside of the possibility that they may need to attack her if she attacks them. There is a moment of silence. Savid tells you all in that intervening time People in this land hate outsiders, those who came from beyond Barovia.... They may deal with you but they have little tolerance. If not for your aid I admit ... I would be treating you just the same. This is a land where unless you are known... you are unknown.
A few more moments pass when one of the guards says, relenting... Fine, you may enter. You will give us your wine as promised and you will help us search for Arabelle before you are allowed to rest. Whether she is alive or dead, we will find out tonight. Lest she was spirited to Strahd's castle... there is no chance she was taken farther than our search has gone in this time.
It seemed that Beren wouldn't have to lie, and between the group, they had .. with some effort purchased their way in.
Is that new elf with you or not?the other guard said coldly.
The drow woman sits back on her heels from her prostration, the radiance that gleams from Beren shining in her large, dark eyes. She looks from him, to Jack, silent for a long moment as Savid negotiates with the guards. The enigmatic eyes and graceful lines of the Eladrin's face speak of a beauty and order maintained by an ancient race, in contrast to the smaller, almost shriveled drow, showing a lineage dark and twisted with savagery. Dark elves who have retained only a shallow beauty, snuffed out in a moment by the revulsion and terror they strike in the hearts of those who behold them.
Olamoira looks from this image of what an elf should have been, and back to the man of radiant light. She sees he extends a hand towards her, asking her to get up. He does not know what I am, she thinks to herself, sorrowfully, or he would leave me on the ground where I belong. But she takes his hand, cringing a little as if expecting the light to burn her, and pulls herself to her feet. She searches with her gaze where she thinks his eyes ought to be, squinting against the light that hurts her own. "I have not mistaken you," she says, "you are just who I have thought. A light that shines in a place where no other light touches." She sweeps an arm to encompass the creeping fog, the dark woods, the oppressive malice and suspicion of the realm's inhabitants. "I will follow your lead, Radiant One." Though her voice is calm, the drow's heart pounds in her chest. There is no other light in this cursed realm. My sign was given. I know my duty now, wherever it take me.
As much as Jack had expected some resistance to their entry, especially given the lateness of the hour and dangers that roamed the land, even he found himself a bit put off by the high degree of it. Then a memory hits him and prompts a glance to Savid. Although between it being a poor time to inquire and Savid's apologetic shrug, the Eladrin ultimately just sighed and begun squinting off into the dark searching for any distant campfires that might suggest the camps location.
Yet as much as he wrote off ever getting inside even as Noel and Savid pleaded the group's case, Jack's ears stayed opened and mind just attentive enough to flow of conversation as to a delighted smile as things once again swung back into their favor. "You exact a rather heavy toll upon wary visitors especially given the lateness of the hour. But if such is to be the bargain, then we will do what we can good sirs." He says as he unlatched his wineskin and offered to guards. Men who he now suspected were too short on coin to just go purchase their own wine, or--
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, dismissing the line of thought, only to open them once more and side-eye Olamoira once more after her declaration. As a small, amused smile bloomed, he would then turn to look at the guard and say nonchalantly, "Seems she's with us. An expandable extra pair of lovely eyes to help with your missing child case, no? And rather perceptive ones too." He glances over to Beren with half-lidded eyes and says dryly. "Even if her perspective may not be quite as shared as some others... But anyhow!" Jack whips back around to the guard. "Where best to start within the village?"
Beren gives the guards a masked glance, the only sign of his feelings towards them shown by the light behind the mask, which has taken on a more intense glow. This was growing annoying. So if he was this so called Avatar of the Sun, they would have let them in no questions asked? From what he could tell, the Avatar was also an outsider, so what made that person different? Here they were, offering aid for the Burgomaster, and yet they still push them aside as if they were thieves trying to climb the wall. He'd understood it initially, but if they had really were part of some evil plot, and they wanted access to the town he could have easily lied and convinced them he was something he wasn't. Yet when they tell the truth, that isn't enough? Even with his measure of understanding, the whole situation still irks him.
When they infer that he is some sort of 'creation' his temper flares further--it was a term that struck to close to home. Nevertheless he tempers his anger, and instead says firmly, "I am no such thing." His voice wavers to almost a growl as he adds, "As my companion said, we ran into that monster you call Strahd." He clenches a fist, then gestures to the dent in the side of his mask from the backhanded blow he'd received, "This was my reward. ...next time..."He shakes his head, the light flickering violently as he turns his attention back to the drow to help her to her feet.
Though his touch does not burn her, his skin is unnaturally warm. Seeing her cringe, he quickly lets go of her hand once she's found her footing and turns his head so as to avoid her gaze. Her words don't draw much of a reaction, and he maintains an almost stoic demeanor. Brilliant, now what is he going to do? Clearly she thinks he's more than he is due to his accursed glowing...the last thing he needs is for this woman to follow him around as if he was some sort of holy symbol.
A light that shines where no other light touches? More like a wildfire waiting to run loose, he thinks sullenly. Pushing the thought aside and letting out a sigh, he finally looks at her squarely, "I'm just a man, nothing more." Yet even as he says this he knows the words will fall flat. How can he say he's only human with this power threatening to poor out at every waking moment? No matter what he says or does, all anyone ever sees is the light and the mask--a weapon or symbol--not the man underneath.
Due to what few words he said to the drow, he hadn't heard much of what Savid said about outsiders, but he had already picked up on that information based on the guard's reactions. When the guards finally agreed to let them inside he says, "Very well. I already told you that we were willing to help. Regardless of your rude welcoming, no child deserves whatever fate has befallen that girl." He pauses thinking, If I was the Avatar of the Sun...you would already have lost my favor. Then he continues saying, "Though I would be of more use after a rest, I understand the need for haste. Who should we speak to about this? Or are you expecting us to venture further out here before entering the city? Savid has told us all the details he knows, though I would prefer to see where she disappeared from. I cannot guarantee it will give us anymore clues, as I realize others have likely searched that area already, but if it was by magic then the place of disappearance is likely the only place that will hold any answers."
When they ask about the new elf he turns his gaze back to her. He really doesn't want her to keep treating him like she is...but he also can't just leave her out here. If they can get her into the city where it is safe, then that's what they'll have to do. Perhaps she'll grow bored of him, or perhaps she'll realize he's not whatever light she's seeking. Finally he says, "I suppose she is."
(My original post uploaded twice due to spotty internet lol. Looks like I was writing at the same time as Mehmen. I'll edit my post if needed once he's done editing his ;) )
At Jacks response, the other guard snaps back hitting his pike against one of the spike-bars, forcing it to emit a loud clang. And we can still change our minds outsiders he said with some degree of anger at both Jacks quip, and Berens remark. Outsiders are not welcome unless they prove themselves of use, You are not the avatar of the sun, and I'll admit I am embarrassed for getting my hopes up.. but especially his kind. And this is our town. OUR home, and you come here after the sun has set, asking to be let in.
Of course, as you say, a few extra pairs of eyes would help. But at the same time you are only a few extra pairs in the end. he said before addressing the other thing Beren mentioned. And do you think yourself special? Strahd terrorizes us all. We are all his playthings, but our town has managed to eek out a living, and even find some hope in this land of eternal darkness! If you will help find Arabelle, then FINE. DO SO. But do not ever question our methods or reasons again outsiders, or you will never be welcome here again without the Bergomasters own word.
Be glad we're letting you in at all. The other guard sighed, likely feeling the other guard was too harsh in his response but... it didn't seem like she disagreed with his statements either. They also didn't initially respond to the latter half of his question, as one seemed to be opening the gate.
Finally, beginning to answer the more pertinent questions..
If you intend to look within the town, do not harm the people or we will harm you. We have checked within the homes of every citizen already and most of her usual haunts. As for where she dissappeared from... she was often seen at the Dusk Elf camp.
For all:
He points south and it was only then that you notice ramshackle buildings half-stable around you. the fog and night had obscured them before but when looking directly at where he points, you notice a barely visible road between one of them (N9) Down that way is the camp. The Vistani are also there. Inside, check wherever you like, even up by the Lake. Just don't enter anyones home without permission. And at this hour all business is closed.
Keep your elves close. Savid, go report to the Bergomaster everything you know about your scouting the last days. The other scouts are already out on second rounds. Noel remained silent. He had dealt with people like this before and he didn't want to risk enflaming their fury. (And the DM doesn't know for 100% sure how Noel would act/react)
It seems you're all allowed in, though under heavy suspicion. And you have places to look.
(This will be a timed event. Based on the scale of the city vs how i've been handling travel, it would take roughly an hour to go from once city gate to the other. Roughly 30 minutes to go to the vistani and elf camp. You have 10 hours before 'the end' - - - - Just tell me what direction you want to head and I'll describe.)
While Beren's radiant touch doesn't burn, it makes her mind explode with visions, as if great shafts of Holy Light on celestial wings waited only for this moment to break through the oppressive shadows and clinging fog.
By the time the masked man turns around to respond to her words by flatly saying he is nothing more than a man, Olamoira only reverently bows to him in response, as if in humble acquiescence to his statement rather than going to the extent this time of falling to the ground before him. Just a man… yes, men have been always as children to we elves… young and bold of spirit, witless of the order of the world. I ever thought elves of the higher order, and of my dark kind the highest, but I have seen since that the celestials choose so often men, and not elves, to work the way of the Light in the dark of the world. He does not understand it yet, but the celestial power is in him, and it is not in vain. Never will I hesitate to honor a man so chosen, I who have the blood of so many men that I cannot wash from my hands…
The drow chokes up as if in sudden anguish, and when she looks up again as the group parleys with the guards at the gate, her dark eyes are wide with the terror of the night, the shadows, the creeping fog. She closes her fist slowly over the warmth in her right hand where the Light touched her, like one drowning hangs onto the nearest precarious flotsam in the waves.
For any who might happen to look her direction, the relief is evident on her face as Jack and Beren both speak up to the guards to include her in their party. The guard's harsh words in defense of their town slowly begin to clear her thoughts, as she listens to the instructions for the task they had been given. Who is Strahd? She could be forgiven if the guard's all too familiar description made her thoughts jump to... her. She shuddered. But this town has found hope, by their own admission. Under Strahd's nose, they fight. She dared a glance at her new companions. These outsiders have fought as well.
Olamoira had not fought, back then. She had run. But I will not run, now. The Ilmatari helped to prepare me, and my sign has been given. Now I will fight, too. She does not think yet of physical combat, but of an indomitable spirit, of a refusal to give into doubt and fear, plagues which still haunt her regularly.
She offers no opinion on which course of the search to take, but immediately follows in concert with whatever the others decide, quietly and without a word, dogging Beren's steps at a respectful distance.
When his words to the drow are met with a bow of more...reverence. Beren just shakes his head and turns back to the guards. If this woman thinks she's going to follow him around forever, then she's going to have to drop that reverence eventually... hopefully. If not... well at least she's better than his former "retainer". The thought made him wonder briefly how Saelethin had taken his disappearance--no doubt she thought he'd abandoned her again, and was angrily searching for him this very moment. ...heh, well jokes on her...
Beren's light and anger flashes briefly as the guards continue to speak to them in anger. Perhaps he should have told them he was the Avatar of the Sun, maybe then they'd be groveling at his feet or treating him the way this drow was. ...not that the idea was very appealing, but it would have been much easier to ignore. He did not think himself special...no, just unfortunate. All he'd hoped to show by gesturing to his mask was that he was not one of Strahd's minions, but of course these guards would take it the wrong way. They were so filled with anger and distrust that they seemed willing to latch onto anything if they thought it was offensive or insulting. But really? He hadn't questioned anything, he'd simply stated facts and then agreed with them.
If he were alone, he might choose his words differently. However, here, he had other people to think about, so he let the anger fade from his voice. It was something he'd been forced to learn how to do during his years at the Church--feign respect and pretend that he was the one who'd stepped out of line. Oh yes, he could do that, though he hated it with every fiber of his being. He inclined his head slightly and said, "Thank you for allowing us to shelter here, we will do our utmost to find the missing child. I won't rest until we have definitive answers." Perhaps he will regret those last words, but at the moment he doesn't really care. The longer he waited before taking a rest, the longer it will take for the power to build up in him again. He might as well count it as a blessing, to be without that pain.
Once they are passed the guards, he turns to the woman guard (since she seemed the least testy of the two) and says, "I know that words don't amount to much coming from the mouth of an outsider, but know this: So long as I am here, I will do what I can to ensure the safety of those around me. I... It is my duty to hunt evil, and I will hold to it." Then he walks away without giving her a chance to respond.
After they are far enough away from the guards to not worry about them hearing, he glances back at the drow trailing in his shadow. With a silent sigh, he asks, "What is your name?"
He honestly has no idea where to start this investigation, though his first instinct is to go to the dusk elf camp--since thats where the guards seemed to think she vanished from. So he'll wait on opinions from the others before stating his.
(To DM: I presume since going by descriptions where by the western gate on Old Svalich Road?)
Jack nodded along and even put on a more subdued demeanor if but to further assuage the guard. But no matter how decent of a performer he could be, the corner of the eladrin's tightly closed lips and eye twitched every now and then from straining to keep his more affable side in check. Although he had to pull his lips in and bite them to keep from snickering seeing Olamoira continue to shower Beren with quiet reverence.
Thankfully by some miracle Jack managed to stay silent and observant until the group were finally allowed inside, and subsequently given a nugget of information to go by for their hunt. Although funnily enough, said nugget required that they stayed out to pursue it and return later with hopefully a healthy wellspring of information. However, whether than further peeve off the guards in having half-wasted their efforts in opening the gates(even if but for Savid at this point), he gave a less flamboyant but no less thankful bow to the man.
"Thank you again for your words of warning, my good man. We will endeavor to heed them all, though may be back this way in due time, if but with good news to spread I hope." He said, still barely managing to keep to the more subdued demeanor and avoid meeting the man's eyes least he rile him up. ".. For now, I think will start with camp and see what turns up." Jack said, then turned to Noel and Savid. "Meanwhile, perhaps you can go along with dear Savid here, Noel. While I can't say I'm all too comfortable parting ways so soon, and assuming of course you don't mind the company Savid, mayhaps an opportunity to speak with the burgeonmaster might present itself? And then from there, who knows really?" He shrugged nonchalantly, but trusted Noel to read between the lines and hopefully use the opportunity to at least get himself better established in the city without the stress of deadline.
Once it appeared Noel and Savid were in agreement, Jack gives him one last quick hug, heedless of any venom showered his way from the guards for further delaying the gates closure, before stepping away and shooing them on inside. After which point he turns back to Beren and Ola and motions for them to follow him down the southern path mentioned by the guards. Although not without again making sure the guard received the wineskin as promised first before departing the gates. With all of that eventually said and done, Jack waits until they are both out of eye shot and ear shot before finally letting out a long sigh of relief. "If I weren't already curious before about our Dusk Elven kin, I certainly am even more so after that little interaction." Jack idly confesses as Olamoira composed herself to answer Beren's question. "But of course the matter of Abigail comes first when we speak with them and the Vistani... Not that I forgotten our last interaction with them Sir Beren, but it cannot be helped my friend."
Even despite both Berens and Jacks words of encouragement of their dedication to finding her, the guard still scoffs but handwaives. Yes yes. Words are meaningless. As long as someone finds the girl who doens't mean her harm, we don't care who. Get going. Or come in. Whatever you intend to do. clearly still brusque in his responses. The other guard letting Savid and Noel go inside after Jacks goodbye hug, which was returned. I'll try Jack. But every gambler knows no matter how good or bad the odds, you can still lose. But I'll take this bet.and with that Savid and Noel disappeared within the gates. Noel, much like Jack avoiding saying anything for risk of the guards ire.
With that, the newfound trio begin heading towards the camp to the south as their first lead. Once more Jack and Beren find themselves haunted by tree's arching over them like demons in the mist along a thin path. It slowly curves westward and as you all go and talk to one another, you see that this is not the only path in the woods. But luckily, the camp has a large fire going and as the only major source of light other than the burgeoning claw of the moon you follow the paths that lead most directly to it. Finding several other wending paths along the way.
Half an hour later, you find yourself just outside the camp itself. The woods part to reveal an expansive clearing: a small, grass-covered hill with low houses built into its sides. Fog obscures the details, but you can see that these buildings feature elegantly carved woodwork and have decorative lanterns hanging from their sculpted eaves. Atop the hill, above the fog, is a ring of barrel-topped wagons that surround a large tent with a column of smoke pouring out through a hole in the top. The tent is brightly lit from within. Even at this distance, you can smell the odors of wine and horses that emanate from this central area. To the north of the tent, is a large bonfire, radiating light, and heat, even as its smoke mingles and mates with the fog.
As the three of you approach, in the distance, though not far - standing quietly in front of this house, bathed in the warm light of its lanterns, are three sullen, gray-cloaked figures, their angular features and black, flowing hair half-hidden under their cowls. Nearby the three figures, what Beren and Jack recognize as a Vistani by his colorful attire, and roguish appearance seems to be arguing with yet another elf, of at-least fairer, if not fair skin (Nivi) as the three cloaked figures watch.
Look ELF I am glad you're so willing to help, but you can ask me a thousand thousand times but there IS no more information to give you! he says, throwing his hands up in consternation, as she'd been asking around for the last several days. Do you not think if I had something more, I'd give it to you? This is the Vargas' daughter! And I can't leave here because my scouts have to report back to me here! So you can stop asking!
Luvash
(Nivi may introduce herself and respond. You can notice the party coming with a DC 11 perception check, unless your passive matches/exceeds it then you notice them automatically.
To help understand how 'time' will flow between 'travel' every investigation, perception ((Except the above one)) or similar tasks consume 10 minutes of time.
You are approaching the house in the image that has the slight interior view.)
The elf speaking with the Vistani man is young. Perhaps even younger than a century old. Of middling height and slender, in black studded leather under her dark red cloak, with a longbow at her back and a rapier at her hip. And she is very clearly a high elf. Pretty, with flowing red hair tied back behind her and startlingly direct green eyes, though lacking in the stately elegance one might expect from her race.
Utterly lacking in the expected charm as well. While her diction is at times that of one schooled among elven nobility in Silverymoon, it blends jarringly with the coarse brogue of Waterdeep'sDock Ward, and she carries herself with the callous and unemotional reserve of a spy or criminal agent.
"Willing, sure. Job needs doing. Elusive daughter lost amidst a land of torment. Lost as everyone here less colorful than you seems to be in their own way. Quite the metaphor. Way I see it, though, your scouts have done shit. Damn shame, yeah?" Nivi does not sound as if she really thinks it's a shame.
She looks at the hooded figures as she speaks, gauging their reactions, looking for any tell. I was wondering what in the hells Dusk Elves were. Now I've seen them, but damn if I'm any the wiser. Both she and the ash-dark Owl on her shoulder turn their heads subtly to take in the approaching party.
Nivi favors the Vistani man with a lopsided grin. "Looks like next time you call someone ELF, Luvash, you'll need to be more specific. Got a regular troupe going now. Dusk elves. Eladrin. A bloody drow. And not an elf but some damn glowing knight of fireflies here. Welcome to the party."
She turns to the newcomers properly, and her grin fades a little, showing more commiseration than snark despite her rough words.
"I'm Nivi. Let me guess. Outsiders? Mist pushed you here from another world. Sword Coast like me, maybe? Cold shoulder and told to stay with the other elves. Unless we can do the job. Hunting for precious, lost Arabelle so Vallaki can finally celebrate as they cower from Strahd. Festival for a sun which never truly shines. Unless that's it right there, peeking out of the arse of the glowing one with the greatsword?"
Can't get quite the image I want of Nivi. This will have to do, from a slightly different version of her in another (now inactive) campaign. You have to mentally add the studded leather under her red cloak, the bow that might be visible at her back as well as her owl familiar Shiv on her shoulder.
To leave the vicinity of the ireful guards is for a moment a relief as Olamoira follows Jack and Beren down the southern path. But the looming trees, the beckoning branches down twisted paths, fumbling their fingers in the ever-present mist, brings the foreboding back to her, stark. What is this place? It's like being underground, and yet not. Although the shadows are easier on her eyes, she lets her gaze sting and squint on Beren's glowing form instead. He said it is his duty to hunt evil. I will survive here only if I do not find myself on the wrong end of that duty.She shudders. It may always be this way, that I cannot abide the light, but less can I abide the darkness, now.
She looks up, startled, when Beren asks her name. For a moment she has no answer, looking as though she might throw herself at his feet again in deference and unworthiness, but she stops the motion just before it starts, standing there, casting within for something, anything else, than the name her drow parents gave her, but realizing she has nothing. The Ilmatari priests gave her no name---she swore no vows to them---and she had hardly any desire to conjure one up for herself. So, she gives her own name, the only name she's ever had. "Ola," she says, hesitantly. "Olamoira." And then she continues, addressing the both of them, the words awkward in her mouth, "And yours?"
The woods give way to another scrap of civilization, half camp and half village, houses built into the hillside and wagons and tents ringing fires. They have come here to look for Arabelle---only to find more people looking for her. Olamoira looks wonderingly at the sullen, black-haired elves. She barely sees the brightly dressed man, arguing as he is with yet another elf---Olamoira feels a strange sense of calm, of rightness, for only a moment, that flashes through her in the circle of elves. A common thread long burned away by hatred. Olamoira looks up sharply at the high elf who turns to address them. Outsiders. The guards called us the same. This realm may be a nightmare, but can we not take some hope in the fact that we do not belong here? The physiognomy of the elf woman, so young, so arrogant, suddenly reminds her of something, and she quickly averts her eyes, desperately trying to quell the savage, superior feeling that surges up within her. How she will tear down what scraps of hope we have---She sees red, and maybe that's the fire blinding her vision, but she can't see the elf woman for a moment, seeing only her old ceremonial knife in her mind, red with blood, high elf blood. All she hears are her biting words of despair, as bleak and malicious as the landscape that creeps in on the edges of the camp. Words I would have spoke to her under my knife... No! No!
Olamoira turns abruptly sideways, deliberately not looking at the elven woman in an odd and perhaps even rude seeming gesture. Once the elf is out of her sight, and Beren's glow appears in the corner of her eye, the dark memories suddenly lift from her mind, and she straightens up. Her voice is loud, clear, and almost challenging, as she replies to the elf. "So has the sun come, and you do not even see it. Dawn arrives, and it is time to awaken." As if her own words have bolstered her, she turns again to face the high elf woman, the challenge reflected in her dark eyes.
Her [Olamoira's] voice is loud, clear, and almost challenging, as she replies to the elf. "So has the sun come, and you do not even see it. Dawn arrives, and it is time to awaken." As if her own words have bolstered her, she turns again to face the high elf woman, the challenge reflected in her dark eyes.
Nivi's grin widens and becomes even more lopsided. Definitely not Bregan D'aerthe, this one. Those drow were formidable. Respect.
"I did ask if that was the Sun peeking from sir knight's arse. Unexpected source for the Dawn if you ask me. So tell me, which cheek is on the east?"
"Beren," Beren replies, giving her a flickering glance as he notes her behavior again, "And stop that. ...please." He quickly looks away and focuses on the path ahead of them for until they reach the camp.
When they enter the camp, Beren's eyes are immediately drawn to the outlier--a high elf amidst the humans and dusk elves. He is a little surprised by her diction, and comes up a little short at her last comment. It takes him a moment to register what exactly she'd said, and his mind first goes to the festival she mentioned. Was that what the guards were talking about when the'd asked him if he was the Avatar of the Sun? Then, the light behind the mask flickers and narrows, giving the impression that he's squinting at her for a moment. The sun peeking out my...? Then he crosses his arms, unsure of how to respond to such a question. For a moment he considers simply ignoring the young elf. He wasn't exactly a stranger to people poking fun at him when they thought he couldn't hear, but this elf was bold enough to say it to his face. Still...
His thoughts are interrupted when Olamoira says her piece. He turns to give her a flat look--mask hiding his irritation. Was she actually talking about him or...? His attention is drawn back to the high elf, who'd come up with another vulgar question. His light flares brightly before dying down. Part of him wants to just walk past this high elf and speak to the man she'd been conversing with instead. However, he recognizes the Vistani clothing, and finds that he really has no desire to talk to him anymore. He'll ask the dusk elves whatever questions he can think of--but first he'll have to figure out how to remove himself from being the subject of whatever sort of conversation this was.
With a sound like a growl, he says, "Neither. This light has nothing to do with the sun, or the dawn, or whatever prophecies anyone thinks they've pulled me into..." He clenches his fists, realizing he hadn't exactly meant to say all that. Too late now... Letting out a long breath he changes the subject, "From what I overheard, it seems you are searching for the missing girl as well. We decided to start here because this is where they thought she'd disappeared from. Though, it seems most places have already been searched prior to our arrival. Have you found anything promising?" He almost asks if she was able to convince the guards to let her inside, or if they'd told her she'd have to go camp with these other elves instead. But he decides against it for now. None of them are going to get any rest if they don't find Arabelle, so there's no point in thinking of anything else yet.
Jack grinned at the question from Ola; and yet, he is not nearly so swift in answering for once. Instead Beren is given the honors this go around, if but so that the Eladrin could continue observe interactions between Ola and Beren for a little bit longer without his spoiling or detracting from things. Plus, he'd already mention his name in her presence, or at least the name to call him by while they were with the guards, so it was not a wholly unknown thing. However, in realizing most of her attention had been on Beren back then, Jack let out a chuckle out of the blue as the trio made their way down the path.
The whole while Jack appeared unbothered by the haunting forestry about them. But, if there had been so much as a snapped branch nearby, his hand would swiftly find the hilt of his scimitar as he looked about for the source, still smiling but with a tightness to it. As such a case is never destined to come about, Jack eventually chimes in, "You may feel free to refer to me as 'Jack' as well. A strange one for one such as I, I know, but that's a story for another time if you're ever interested in it. Though Noel would be able to tell it best, if only seeing as he has a greater flair for such things than I do." He confessed, before letting things slip back into companionable silence.
"Hmn~ Definitely one far too young to be about, and yet..." Jack let his quietly spoken commentary trail off there, as ill timing saw to it that Nivi and Luvash's own conversation was at its end. Fingers are waggled in greeting as attention is turned to his grouping, but the Eladrin's gaze lingered on the hooded figures for a time yet before looking to take in Nivi again. Initiative is lost in making introductions, but happily so, as the exchange left Jack snickering and having to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep from full on laughing at Beren's expense.
"Ah~ I needed that. Some might even say that even brightened my day as surely as a sun cresting over a horizon!" He declared. "But, that is neither here or there. As you have guess well and my friend here has asserted, such are the reason far our own arrival here." Jack said, assuring Luvash, Nivi, and the hooded elves. "Don't to perhaps correct my friend here least there are any sore feelings, it was more accurately said that she would visit here often, not so much disappeared from here. But that's probably just arguing semantics at this point." He said with a chuckle to his voice and a shrug thrown out at the end.
Jack then gives one of his customarily flamboyant bows and multiple times if needed to make sure both Luvash, the hooded figures, and Nivi were given their due. "You may all call me Jack by the way, for it is worth. And you have my most sincerest apologies for this late hour encounter. But if some time could be spared from all parties here, that would be most appreciated AND warrant a favor of some kind in return I imagine! Even if that favor is being left to be left to rest." He said, lightly jesting towards the end.
Nivi's amiably rude grin turns into something resembling a companionable smile as she hears Beren, then Jack respond. Voice suddenly solemn and as if imitating one of her high elven family members, she intones with mock seriousness:
"So the prophecies of the Sun are disavowed by the glowing Avatar himself, while his glowering (not glowing) prophet is revealed to be a dark elf, averse to the very sunlight she reveres. Like a plot twist from the interminable plays my lady sister would attend in Silverymoon. Seeing as we all want a plot twist where we find this Arabelle girl, I say we 'outsiders' band together since everyone else wants us like they want a case of the bloody flux."
"Truth is, I likely found what you all did. Out of the mists and into Vallaki before the disappearance. Girl last seen at the 'dusk elf camp', which is where I was told to go stay with 'my own kind'. Festival of the Sun postponed until someone locates her. So that's the job - might as well finish it."
She glances at the cloaked and hooded dusk elves and on a whim, asks in classical, high Elvish, sounding like a highborn schoolgirl reciting her lessons (reaching for what she remembers of her sister's charm and grace):
"I beg pardon for my rough demeanor with the Vistani and other locals here. Already, they try my patience, though it has been but days since the mists brought me here from Faerun. I am Niva'ele Farstrider, at your service, fellow Tel-Quessir*. And my owl companion is called Shiv. I know not of your life here, nor of your plight, given the curse that seems to hang over this colorless world that Strahd rules, but would gladly listen and aid if you would so honor me. In the same spirit, I ask if you have any knowledge of the missing girl."
(* Tel-Quessir being what surface elves call themselves as a group in Faerun.)
Finally, she turns to include the Vistani in the discussion once more. "You with me Luvash? You've got the glow-knight of fireflies, an eladrin who likely knows his way around the woods, a prophet brimming with divine Sun magic, and me, a girl who knows a thing or two about kidnappers and their ways, sad to say." (Nivi doesn't sound sad). "And you... you got nothing to lose by giving us a shot. How about this - just tell us where you and your scouts are looking. I'm sure they're doing an ace job and all. But that way we can focus on, well, everywhere else and no one's time gets wasted, yeah?"
Luvash throws his hands in the air in frustration. You mock our scouts, and their scouts at the same time, yet you've also yet to find her despite all your blithering questions for days. I could call the guard now and tell the- he's cut off mid sentence at the approach of strangers to the camp, and he seems to be dancing the line between surprised to see new people and not shocked at all. The Dusk Elves that had been watching seemed bemused by the back-and-forth but they also seemed to be eying Nivi with a soft hunger and ulterior motives. Though their eyes held no stealth in where they looked if she was paying enough attention to notice, which she apparently was. Once the newcomers came, their attention shifted reluctantly but then again curiously... their eyes fell on Moira with a similar hunger in their eyes. Fromm Moira's perspective, very different from male Drow, whom were subservient. Though neither Nivi nor Moira would know why.
(Both Nivi/Moira may make an insight check if they wish, this will not count against the time limit)
Luvash and the trio of dusk elves watch on as the group converses.
-----
Moira doesn't say much, but her movements after the initial glances seem odd to them. Reminding them of a (gollum-like) figure. Someone trapped in their own head or their past, or something akin to that. Though this made Luvash cringe slightly, the dusk elves hesitated only momentarily before they seemed to 'not care' in the sense that they accepted her being as such. Moira likely found it odd. So far, she'd not met anyone who went directly to blades because of an 'accursed drow.'
----
At Nivi's response, the Vistani and dusk elf quartet do only just barely manage to stifle back a laugh, and for the first time Nivi see's Luvash smirk, but the scene continues to play out. Luvash himself seems to be taking his measure of both the situation, and the people, while everyone seems willing to 'share.'
----
Beren then finally speaks up for himself in the entirety of the situation, forcing Luvash' brow to rise before jack butts in with his own commentary. Though by this point Luvash and the Dusk elves seem bemused, they still wear the pall of depression this land hangs over everyone they've met, aside from the Vistani themselves. Nivi interjects again with more agnostic sarcasm. Luvsh seems bothered by the fact that that she suddenly switched to a language he didn't understand, and even the dusk elves seem confused. As though they understand only parts of what she's saying. But they seem to understand enough of it that one of them cobbles together a reply.
His voice is ashen as he speaks back in the same tongue, though it's clearly rough, and he's stumbling through the words.
She visited much. Arabelle. She held no hatred for us, as most here do. We know it would not be our kin who did it, despite how they treat us. We need them more than they need us. Without the town... we would be left to fight alone. And we would dissappear. he said, those last words with the weight of centuries behind it.
It would be Strahd. Some monster who dared near the camp and town and lucked to catch her unawares and us all distracted. Or one of the Vistani, or even town folk. We tell Luvash, but he refuse to believe it could be. We already went out to look. Nothing. That is all we .. 'know.' But we need rest now. You have no idea the dangers of this land, if you can still speak as such.
was all he said. it was clear enough to anyone who knew elvish of any kind that they had not spoken in that tongue in a long, long time. Despite the pallor that hung over the dusk elven heads, they still seemed to look between both Nivi and Moira with some inner hunger.
Luvash's brows both spike as it seems some action is finally going to be taken. About time! The only people here who haven't done anything for Arabelle are the four of you. So hop to it, or leave. As much as I've enjoyed your carnival show of a conversation, there isn't time to waste on it. Go, find her and maybe I'll even smile! he says with a heavy dose of sarcasm, as he crosses his arms.
The dusk elves finally look away, heading back into their home after a breif whispered word from one of the formerly silent ones. Leaving the group with only Luvash, and whoever may be inside their homes, or upon the hill.
But where have we looked? Almost everywhere. Scouted for five miles or more to the east, to the west, and to the south where Savid and some others went towards the old manse. We've checked most homes - abandoned or not, and found nothing. Well, except for the undead, and those twisted druids. I can't think of anywhere else she might be. Everything else is under our control nearby.
If you can find her i'll put in a good word, and we'll even fish up some extra fish from Lake Zarovich, just for you.
The guards had initially ignored Jack only due to suddenly noticing Beren. As the group talks amongst themselves they eventually hear him saying that he is not in fact the 'Avatar of the Sun' and what little hope had shone on their faces moments before became dim, as they settled back to their stoic selves, if slightly deflated. One of the guards finally acknowledges Jack. His response is gruff, and offputting as he says That sounds like your problem - Outsider. if he is not who we thought, then you will have to explain who and what he is. Some new monstrosity created by Strahd? I don't know where you came from, but you're not welcome here. The wine you offer would only be a temporary treat, and if you are part of some new ploy to get in here then it'd be US responsible for it.
We have plenty of wine thanks to the Wizards of wine.
The guards eyes shift to the prostrating 'elf' then back to Jack. You want a place to stay? then the elf camp outside the walls is good enough for you. And who, or whatever Beren is can stay there too. Unless you have the Bergomasters daughter safe in hand, none of you will enter this town. We can't have you ruining the festival. once revealed that beren wasn't who they thought they had become cold. Perhaps they had been cold before but as you had never met these people before you had nothing to compare with.
Savid seems to sigh but his expression is clearly one lacking in surprise. He looks to Jack apologetically but shrugs in a 'what can you do' fashion. He looks to the drow, though his expression doesn't match that of someone who's seen one before. A curious flicker goes across his features in contemplation, before he shakes his head. Finalyl, Savid sighs, and looks to the guards.
Look, you both know me as Savid. These ... people aided me when I was upon deaths door. he hesitated for moment, considering whether or not to add in 'except her' - before pushing on. They have already told me they would be willing to look for Arabelle.... They have proven themselves trustworthy to me, they even healed my wounds at the expense of their own resources. Without that, you'd not know if Arabelle was near the Manse, and would have to send more scouts out just to verify.
Then, Noel chimes in with some additionals. Yes. We'll help find this little girl. We're no allies of Strahd. In fact lastnight we ... watched him kill a child. I believe his name was... Zelkova. Strahd blew them all apart with a fiery explosion.... right before my eyes.
The guards share a glance. As the drow hasn't addressed them, they continue ignoring her outside of the possibility that they may need to attack her if she attacks them. There is a moment of silence. Savid tells you all in that intervening time People in this land hate outsiders, those who came from beyond Barovia.... They may deal with you but they have little tolerance. If not for your aid I admit ... I would be treating you just the same. This is a land where unless you are known... you are unknown.
A few more moments pass when one of the guards says, relenting... Fine, you may enter. You will give us your wine as promised and you will help us search for Arabelle before you are allowed to rest. Whether she is alive or dead, we will find out tonight. Lest she was spirited to Strahd's castle... there is no chance she was taken farther than our search has gone in this time.
It seemed that Beren wouldn't have to lie, and between the group, they had .. with some effort purchased their way in.
Is that new elf with you or not?the other guard said coldly.
Occassional Dungeon Master.
The drow woman sits back on her heels from her prostration, the radiance that gleams from Beren shining in her large, dark eyes. She looks from him, to Jack, silent for a long moment as Savid negotiates with the guards. The enigmatic eyes and graceful lines of the Eladrin's face speak of a beauty and order maintained by an ancient race, in contrast to the smaller, almost shriveled drow, showing a lineage dark and twisted with savagery. Dark elves who have retained only a shallow beauty, snuffed out in a moment by the revulsion and terror they strike in the hearts of those who behold them.
Olamoira looks from this image of what an elf should have been, and back to the man of radiant light. She sees he extends a hand towards her, asking her to get up. He does not know what I am, she thinks to herself, sorrowfully, or he would leave me on the ground where I belong. But she takes his hand, cringing a little as if expecting the light to burn her, and pulls herself to her feet. She searches with her gaze where she thinks his eyes ought to be, squinting against the light that hurts her own. "I have not mistaken you," she says, "you are just who I have thought. A light that shines in a place where no other light touches." She sweeps an arm to encompass the creeping fog, the dark woods, the oppressive malice and suspicion of the realm's inhabitants. "I will follow your lead, Radiant One." Though her voice is calm, the drow's heart pounds in her chest. There is no other light in this cursed realm. My sign was given. I know my duty now, wherever it take me.
As much as Jack had expected some resistance to their entry, especially given the lateness of the hour and dangers that roamed the land, even he found himself a bit put off by the high degree of it. Then a memory hits him and prompts a glance to Savid. Although between it being a poor time to inquire and Savid's apologetic shrug, the Eladrin ultimately just sighed and begun squinting off into the dark searching for any distant campfires that might suggest the camps location.
Yet as much as he wrote off ever getting inside even as Noel and Savid pleaded the group's case, Jack's ears stayed opened and mind just attentive enough to flow of conversation as to a delighted smile as things once again swung back into their favor. "You exact a rather heavy toll upon wary visitors especially given the lateness of the hour. But if such is to be the bargain, then we will do what we can good sirs." He says as he unlatched his wineskin and offered to guards. Men who he now suspected were too short on coin to just go purchase their own wine, or--
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, dismissing the line of thought, only to open them once more and side-eye Olamoira once more after her declaration. As a small, amused smile bloomed, he would then turn to look at the guard and say nonchalantly, "Seems she's with us. An expandable extra pair of lovely eyes to help with your missing child case, no? And rather perceptive ones too." He glances over to Beren with half-lidded eyes and says dryly. "Even if her perspective may not be quite as shared as some others... But anyhow!" Jack whips back around to the guard. "Where best to start within the village?"
Goyo - [Tortle]Druid/Warlock - Circle of Sea/Celestial (Libretalia)
Nobody - [Feral-Tiefling]Wizard/Sorcerer - War/Draconic (HoTDQ)
Jack Vicvan - [Eladrin]Warlock - Archfey
-
Hiatus:
Xanrazan - [Earth Genasi]Bard - College of Swords(Shadowthorn's Princess of the Apocalypse)
Beren gives the guards a masked glance, the only sign of his feelings towards them shown by the light behind the mask, which has taken on a more intense glow. This was growing annoying. So if he was this so called Avatar of the Sun, they would have let them in no questions asked? From what he could tell, the Avatar was also an outsider, so what made that person different? Here they were, offering aid for the Burgomaster, and yet they still push them aside as if they were thieves trying to climb the wall. He'd understood it initially, but if they had really were part of some evil plot, and they wanted access to the town he could have easily lied and convinced them he was something he wasn't. Yet when they tell the truth, that isn't enough? Even with his measure of understanding, the whole situation still irks him.
When they infer that he is some sort of 'creation' his temper flares further--it was a term that struck to close to home. Nevertheless he tempers his anger, and instead says firmly, "I am no such thing." His voice wavers to almost a growl as he adds, "As my companion said, we ran into that monster you call Strahd." He clenches a fist, then gestures to the dent in the side of his mask from the backhanded blow he'd received, "This was my reward. ...next time..." He shakes his head, the light flickering violently as he turns his attention back to the drow to help her to her feet.
Though his touch does not burn her, his skin is unnaturally warm. Seeing her cringe, he quickly lets go of her hand once she's found her footing and turns his head so as to avoid her gaze. Her words don't draw much of a reaction, and he maintains an almost stoic demeanor. Brilliant, now what is he going to do? Clearly she thinks he's more than he is due to his accursed glowing...the last thing he needs is for this woman to follow him around as if he was some sort of holy symbol.
A light that shines where no other light touches? More like a wildfire waiting to run loose, he thinks sullenly. Pushing the thought aside and letting out a sigh, he finally looks at her squarely, "I'm just a man, nothing more." Yet even as he says this he knows the words will fall flat. How can he say he's only human with this power threatening to poor out at every waking moment? No matter what he says or does, all anyone ever sees is the light and the mask--a weapon or symbol--not the man underneath.
Due to what few words he said to the drow, he hadn't heard much of what Savid said about outsiders, but he had already picked up on that information based on the guard's reactions. When the guards finally agreed to let them inside he says, "Very well. I already told you that we were willing to help. Regardless of your rude welcoming, no child deserves whatever fate has befallen that girl." He pauses thinking, If I was the Avatar of the Sun...you would already have lost my favor. Then he continues saying, "Though I would be of more use after a rest, I understand the need for haste. Who should we speak to about this? Or are you expecting us to venture further out here before entering the city? Savid has told us all the details he knows, though I would prefer to see where she disappeared from. I cannot guarantee it will give us anymore clues, as I realize others have likely searched that area already, but if it was by magic then the place of disappearance is likely the only place that will hold any answers."
When they ask about the new elf he turns his gaze back to her. He really doesn't want her to keep treating him like she is...but he also can't just leave her out here. If they can get her into the city where it is safe, then that's what they'll have to do. Perhaps she'll grow bored of him, or perhaps she'll realize he's not whatever light she's seeking. Finally he says, "I suppose she is."
(My original post uploaded twice due to spotty internet lol. Looks like I was writing at the same time as Mehmen. I'll edit my post if needed once he's done editing his ;) )
(I will update after work tonight. give or take 18 hours. had some responsibilities)
Occassional Dungeon Master.
At Jacks response, the other guard snaps back hitting his pike against one of the spike-bars, forcing it to emit a loud clang. And we can still change our minds outsiders he said with some degree of anger at both Jacks quip, and Berens remark. Outsiders are not welcome unless they prove themselves of use, You are not the avatar of the sun, and I'll admit I am embarrassed for getting my hopes up.. but especially his kind. And this is our town. OUR home, and you come here after the sun has set, asking to be let in.
Of course, as you say, a few extra pairs of eyes would help. But at the same time you are only a few extra pairs in the end. he said before addressing the other thing Beren mentioned. And do you think yourself special? Strahd terrorizes us all. We are all his playthings, but our town has managed to eek out a living, and even find some hope in this land of eternal darkness! If you will help find Arabelle, then FINE. DO SO. But do not ever question our methods or reasons again outsiders, or you will never be welcome here again without the Bergomasters own word.
Be glad we're letting you in at all. The other guard sighed, likely feeling the other guard was too harsh in his response but... it didn't seem like she disagreed with his statements either. They also didn't initially respond to the latter half of his question, as one seemed to be opening the gate.
Finally, beginning to answer the more pertinent questions..
If you intend to look within the town, do not harm the people or we will harm you. We have checked within the homes of every citizen already and most of her usual haunts. As for where she dissappeared from... she was often seen at the Dusk Elf camp.
For all:
He points south and it was only then that you notice ramshackle buildings half-stable around you. the fog and night had obscured them before but when looking directly at where he points, you notice a barely visible road between one of them (N9) Down that way is the camp. The Vistani are also there. Inside, check wherever you like, even up by the Lake. Just don't enter anyones home without permission. And at this hour all business is closed.
Keep your elves close. Savid, go report to the Bergomaster everything you know about your scouting the last days. The other scouts are already out on second rounds. Noel remained silent. He had dealt with people like this before and he didn't want to risk enflaming their fury. (And the DM doesn't know for 100% sure how Noel would act/react)
It seems you're all allowed in, though under heavy suspicion. And you have places to look.
(This will be a timed event. Based on the scale of the city vs how i've been handling travel, it would take roughly an hour to go from once city gate to the other. Roughly 30 minutes to go to the vistani and elf camp. You have 10 hours before 'the end' - - - - Just tell me what direction you want to head and I'll describe.)
Occassional Dungeon Master.
While Beren's radiant touch doesn't burn, it makes her mind explode with visions, as if great shafts of Holy Light on celestial wings waited only for this moment to break through the oppressive shadows and clinging fog.
By the time the masked man turns around to respond to her words by flatly saying he is nothing more than a man, Olamoira only reverently bows to him in response, as if in humble acquiescence to his statement rather than going to the extent this time of falling to the ground before him. Just a man… yes, men have been always as children to we elves… young and bold of spirit, witless of the order of the world. I ever thought elves of the higher order, and of my dark kind the highest, but I have seen since that the celestials choose so often men, and not elves, to work the way of the Light in the dark of the world. He does not understand it yet, but the celestial power is in him, and it is not in vain. Never will I hesitate to honor a man so chosen, I who have the blood of so many men that I cannot wash from my hands…
The drow chokes up as if in sudden anguish, and when she looks up again as the group parleys with the guards at the gate, her dark eyes are wide with the terror of the night, the shadows, the creeping fog. She closes her fist slowly over the warmth in her right hand where the Light touched her, like one drowning hangs onto the nearest precarious flotsam in the waves.
For any who might happen to look her direction, the relief is evident on her face as Jack and Beren both speak up to the guards to include her in their party. The guard's harsh words in defense of their town slowly begin to clear her thoughts, as she listens to the instructions for the task they had been given. Who is Strahd? She could be forgiven if the guard's all too familiar description made her thoughts jump to... her. She shuddered. But this town has found hope, by their own admission. Under Strahd's nose, they fight. She dared a glance at her new companions. These outsiders have fought as well.
Olamoira had not fought, back then. She had run. But I will not run, now. The Ilmatari helped to prepare me, and my sign has been given. Now I will fight, too. She does not think yet of physical combat, but of an indomitable spirit, of a refusal to give into doubt and fear, plagues which still haunt her regularly.
She offers no opinion on which course of the search to take, but immediately follows in concert with whatever the others decide, quietly and without a word, dogging Beren's steps at a respectful distance.
When his words to the drow are met with a bow of more...reverence. Beren just shakes his head and turns back to the guards. If this woman thinks she's going to follow him around forever, then she's going to have to drop that reverence eventually... hopefully. If not... well at least she's better than his former "retainer". The thought made him wonder briefly how Saelethin had taken his disappearance--no doubt she thought he'd abandoned her again, and was angrily searching for him this very moment. ...heh, well jokes on her...
Beren's light and anger flashes briefly as the guards continue to speak to them in anger. Perhaps he should have told them he was the Avatar of the Sun, maybe then they'd be groveling at his feet or treating him the way this drow was. ...not that the idea was very appealing, but it would have been much easier to ignore. He did not think himself special...no, just unfortunate. All he'd hoped to show by gesturing to his mask was that he was not one of Strahd's minions, but of course these guards would take it the wrong way. They were so filled with anger and distrust that they seemed willing to latch onto anything if they thought it was offensive or insulting. But really? He hadn't questioned anything, he'd simply stated facts and then agreed with them.
If he were alone, he might choose his words differently. However, here, he had other people to think about, so he let the anger fade from his voice. It was something he'd been forced to learn how to do during his years at the Church--feign respect and pretend that he was the one who'd stepped out of line. Oh yes, he could do that, though he hated it with every fiber of his being. He inclined his head slightly and said, "Thank you for allowing us to shelter here, we will do our utmost to find the missing child. I won't rest until we have definitive answers." Perhaps he will regret those last words, but at the moment he doesn't really care. The longer he waited before taking a rest, the longer it will take for the power to build up in him again. He might as well count it as a blessing, to be without that pain.
Once they are passed the guards, he turns to the woman guard (since she seemed the least testy of the two) and says, "I know that words don't amount to much coming from the mouth of an outsider, but know this: So long as I am here, I will do what I can to ensure the safety of those around me. I... It is my duty to hunt evil, and I will hold to it." Then he walks away without giving her a chance to respond.
After they are far enough away from the guards to not worry about them hearing, he glances back at the drow trailing in his shadow. With a silent sigh, he asks, "What is your name?"
He honestly has no idea where to start this investigation, though his first instinct is to go to the dusk elf camp--since thats where the guards seemed to think she vanished from. So he'll wait on opinions from the others before stating his.
(To DM: I presume since going by descriptions where by the western gate on Old Svalich Road?)
Jack nodded along and even put on a more subdued demeanor if but to further assuage the guard. But no matter how decent of a performer he could be, the corner of the eladrin's tightly closed lips and eye twitched every now and then from straining to keep his more affable side in check. Although he had to pull his lips in and bite them to keep from snickering seeing Olamoira continue to shower Beren with quiet reverence.
Thankfully by some miracle Jack managed to stay silent and observant until the group were finally allowed inside, and subsequently given a nugget of information to go by for their hunt. Although funnily enough, said nugget required that they stayed out to pursue it and return later with hopefully a healthy wellspring of information. However, whether than further peeve off the guards in having half-wasted their efforts in opening the gates(even if but for Savid at this point), he gave a less flamboyant but no less thankful bow to the man.
"Thank you again for your words of warning, my good man. We will endeavor to heed them all, though may be back this way in due time, if but with good news to spread I hope." He said, still barely managing to keep to the more subdued demeanor and avoid meeting the man's eyes least he rile him up. ".. For now, I think will start with camp and see what turns up." Jack said, then turned to Noel and Savid. "Meanwhile, perhaps you can go along with dear Savid here, Noel. While I can't say I'm all too comfortable parting ways so soon, and assuming of course you don't mind the company Savid, mayhaps an opportunity to speak with the burgeonmaster might present itself? And then from there, who knows really?" He shrugged nonchalantly, but trusted Noel to read between the lines and hopefully use the opportunity to at least get himself better established in the city without the stress of deadline.
Once it appeared Noel and Savid were in agreement, Jack gives him one last quick hug, heedless of any venom showered his way from the guards for further delaying the gates closure, before stepping away and shooing them on inside. After which point he turns back to Beren and Ola and motions for them to follow him down the southern path mentioned by the guards. Although not without again making sure the guard received the wineskin as promised first before departing the gates. With all of that eventually said and done, Jack waits until they are both out of eye shot and ear shot before finally letting out a long sigh of relief. "If I weren't already curious before about our Dusk Elven kin, I certainly am even more so after that little interaction." Jack idly confesses as Olamoira composed herself to answer Beren's question. "But of course the matter of Abigail comes first when we speak with them and the Vistani... Not that I forgotten our last interaction with them Sir Beren, but it cannot be helped my friend."
Goyo - [Tortle]Druid/Warlock - Circle of Sea/Celestial (Libretalia)
Nobody - [Feral-Tiefling]Wizard/Sorcerer - War/Draconic (HoTDQ)
Jack Vicvan - [Eladrin]Warlock - Archfey
-
Hiatus:
Xanrazan - [Earth Genasi]Bard - College of Swords(Shadowthorn's Princess of the Apocalypse)
(Correct. Sory I assumed it would be known as you were heading east :P - Reading and responding.)
Occassional Dungeon Master.
Even despite both Berens and Jacks words of encouragement of their dedication to finding her, the guard still scoffs but handwaives. Yes yes. Words are meaningless. As long as someone finds the girl who doens't mean her harm, we don't care who. Get going. Or come in. Whatever you intend to do. clearly still brusque in his responses. The other guard letting Savid and Noel go inside after Jacks goodbye hug, which was returned. I'll try Jack. But every gambler knows no matter how good or bad the odds, you can still lose. But I'll take this bet. and with that Savid and Noel disappeared within the gates. Noel, much like Jack avoiding saying anything for risk of the guards ire.
With that, the newfound trio begin heading towards the camp to the south as their first lead. Once more Jack and Beren find themselves haunted by tree's arching over them like demons in the mist along a thin path. It slowly curves westward and as you all go and talk to one another, you see that this is not the only path in the woods. But luckily, the camp has a large fire going and as the only major source of light other than the burgeoning claw of the moon you follow the paths that lead most directly to it. Finding several other wending paths along the way.
Half an hour later, you find yourself just outside the camp itself. The woods part to reveal an expansive clearing: a small, grass-covered hill with low houses built into its sides. Fog obscures the details, but you can see that these buildings feature elegantly carved woodwork and have decorative lanterns hanging from their sculpted eaves. Atop the hill, above the fog, is a ring of barrel-topped wagons that surround a large tent with a column of smoke pouring out through a hole in the top. The tent is brightly lit from within. Even at this distance, you can smell the odors of wine and horses that emanate from this central area. To the north of the tent, is a large bonfire, radiating light, and heat, even as its smoke mingles and mates with the fog.
As the three of you approach, in the distance, though not far - standing quietly in front of this house, bathed in the warm light of its lanterns, are three sullen, gray-cloaked figures, their angular features and black, flowing hair half-hidden under their cowls. Nearby the three figures, what Beren and Jack recognize as a Vistani by his colorful attire, and roguish appearance seems to be arguing with yet another elf, of at-least fairer, if not fair skin (Nivi) as the three cloaked figures watch.
Look ELF I am glad you're so willing to help, but you can ask me a thousand thousand times but there IS no more information to give you! he says, throwing his hands up in consternation, as she'd been asking around for the last several days. Do you not think if I had something more, I'd give it to you? This is the Vargas' daughter! And I can't leave here because my scouts have to report back to me here! So you can stop asking!
Luvash
(Nivi may introduce herself and respond. You can notice the party coming with a DC 11 perception check, unless your passive matches/exceeds it then you notice them automatically.
To help understand how 'time' will flow between 'travel' every investigation, perception ((Except the above one)) or similar tasks consume 10 minutes of time.
You are approaching the house in the image that has the slight interior view.)
Occassional Dungeon Master.
Nivi Passive Perception: 17
The elf speaking with the Vistani man is young. Perhaps even younger than a century old. Of middling height and slender, in black studded leather under her dark red cloak, with a longbow at her back and a rapier at her hip. And she is very clearly a high elf. Pretty, with flowing red hair tied back behind her and startlingly direct green eyes, though lacking in the stately elegance one might expect from her race.
Utterly lacking in the expected charm as well. While her diction is at times that of one schooled among elven nobility in Silverymoon, it blends jarringly with the coarse brogue of Waterdeep's Dock Ward, and she carries herself with the callous and unemotional reserve of a spy or criminal agent.
"Willing, sure. Job needs doing. Elusive daughter lost amidst a land of torment. Lost as everyone here less colorful than you seems to be in their own way. Quite the metaphor. Way I see it, though, your scouts have done shit. Damn shame, yeah?" Nivi does not sound as if she really thinks it's a shame.
She looks at the hooded figures as she speaks, gauging their reactions, looking for any tell. I was wondering what in the hells Dusk Elves were. Now I've seen them, but damn if I'm any the wiser. Both she and the ash-dark Owl on her shoulder turn their heads subtly to take in the approaching party.
Nivi favors the Vistani man with a lopsided grin. "Looks like next time you call someone ELF, Luvash, you'll need to be more specific. Got a regular troupe going now. Dusk elves. Eladrin. A bloody drow. And not an elf but some damn glowing knight of fireflies here. Welcome to the party."
She turns to the newcomers properly, and her grin fades a little, showing more commiseration than snark despite her rough words.
"I'm Nivi. Let me guess. Outsiders? Mist pushed you here from another world. Sword Coast like me, maybe? Cold shoulder and told to stay with the other elves. Unless we can do the job. Hunting for precious, lost Arabelle so Vallaki can finally celebrate as they cower from Strahd. Festival for a sun which never truly shines. Unless that's it right there, peeking out of the arse of the glowing one with the greatsword?"
Can't get quite the image I want of Nivi. This will have to do, from a slightly different version of her in another (now inactive) campaign. You have to mentally add the studded leather under her red cloak, the bow that might be visible at her back as well as her owl familiar Shiv on her shoulder.
Inge(Barbarian2): Krayveneer's After the Fall | Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1): Uhtred's Windward Isles | Xarian(Fighter1): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(Druid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Nivi(Rogue4): Raiketsu's CoS
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4): MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
To leave the vicinity of the ireful guards is for a moment a relief as Olamoira follows Jack and Beren down the southern path. But the looming trees, the beckoning branches down twisted paths, fumbling their fingers in the ever-present mist, brings the foreboding back to her, stark. What is this place? It's like being underground, and yet not. Although the shadows are easier on her eyes, she lets her gaze sting and squint on Beren's glowing form instead. He said it is his duty to hunt evil. I will survive here only if I do not find myself on the wrong end of that duty. She shudders. It may always be this way, that I cannot abide the light, but less can I abide the darkness, now.
She looks up, startled, when Beren asks her name. For a moment she has no answer, looking as though she might throw herself at his feet again in deference and unworthiness, but she stops the motion just before it starts, standing there, casting within for something, anything else, than the name her drow parents gave her, but realizing she has nothing. The Ilmatari priests gave her no name---she swore no vows to them---and she had hardly any desire to conjure one up for herself. So, she gives her own name, the only name she's ever had. "Ola," she says, hesitantly. "Olamoira." And then she continues, addressing the both of them, the words awkward in her mouth, "And yours?"
The woods give way to another scrap of civilization, half camp and half village, houses built into the hillside and wagons and tents ringing fires. They have come here to look for Arabelle---only to find more people looking for her. Olamoira looks wonderingly at the sullen, black-haired elves. She barely sees the brightly dressed man, arguing as he is with yet another elf---Olamoira feels a strange sense of calm, of rightness, for only a moment, that flashes through her in the circle of elves. A common thread long burned away by hatred. Olamoira looks up sharply at the high elf who turns to address them. Outsiders. The guards called us the same. This realm may be a nightmare, but can we not take some hope in the fact that we do not belong here? The physiognomy of the elf woman, so young, so arrogant, suddenly reminds her of something, and she quickly averts her eyes, desperately trying to quell the savage, superior feeling that surges up within her. How she will tear down what scraps of hope we have---She sees red, and maybe that's the fire blinding her vision, but she can't see the elf woman for a moment, seeing only her old ceremonial knife in her mind, red with blood, high elf blood. All she hears are her biting words of despair, as bleak and malicious as the landscape that creeps in on the edges of the camp. Words I would have spoke to her under my knife... No! No!
Olamoira turns abruptly sideways, deliberately not looking at the elven woman in an odd and perhaps even rude seeming gesture. Once the elf is out of her sight, and Beren's glow appears in the corner of her eye, the dark memories suddenly lift from her mind, and she straightens up. Her voice is loud, clear, and almost challenging, as she replies to the elf. "So has the sun come, and you do not even see it. Dawn arrives, and it is time to awaken." As if her own words have bolstered her, she turns again to face the high elf woman, the challenge reflected in her dark eyes.
Nivi's grin widens and becomes even more lopsided. Definitely not Bregan D'aerthe, this one. Those drow were formidable. Respect.
"I did ask if that was the Sun peeking from sir knight's arse. Unexpected source for the Dawn if you ask me. So tell me, which cheek is on the east?"
Inge(Barbarian2): Krayveneer's After the Fall | Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1): Uhtred's Windward Isles | Xarian(Fighter1): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(Druid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Nivi(Rogue4): Raiketsu's CoS
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4): MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
"Beren," Beren replies, giving her a flickering glance as he notes her behavior again, "And stop that. ...please." He quickly looks away and focuses on the path ahead of them for until they reach the camp.
When they enter the camp, Beren's eyes are immediately drawn to the outlier--a high elf amidst the humans and dusk elves. He is a little surprised by her diction, and comes up a little short at her last comment. It takes him a moment to register what exactly she'd said, and his mind first goes to the festival she mentioned. Was that what the guards were talking about when the'd asked him if he was the Avatar of the Sun? Then, the light behind the mask flickers and narrows, giving the impression that he's squinting at her for a moment. The sun peeking out my...? Then he crosses his arms, unsure of how to respond to such a question. For a moment he considers simply ignoring the young elf. He wasn't exactly a stranger to people poking fun at him when they thought he couldn't hear, but this elf was bold enough to say it to his face. Still...
His thoughts are interrupted when Olamoira says her piece. He turns to give her a flat look--mask hiding his irritation. Was she actually talking about him or...? His attention is drawn back to the high elf, who'd come up with another vulgar question. His light flares brightly before dying down. Part of him wants to just walk past this high elf and speak to the man she'd been conversing with instead. However, he recognizes the Vistani clothing, and finds that he really has no desire to talk to him anymore. He'll ask the dusk elves whatever questions he can think of--but first he'll have to figure out how to remove himself from being the subject of whatever sort of conversation this was.
With a sound like a growl, he says, "Neither. This light has nothing to do with the sun, or the dawn, or whatever prophecies anyone thinks they've pulled me into..." He clenches his fists, realizing he hadn't exactly meant to say all that. Too late now... Letting out a long breath he changes the subject, "From what I overheard, it seems you are searching for the missing girl as well. We decided to start here because this is where they thought she'd disappeared from. Though, it seems most places have already been searched prior to our arrival. Have you found anything promising?" He almost asks if she was able to convince the guards to let her inside, or if they'd told her she'd have to go camp with these other elves instead. But he decides against it for now. None of them are going to get any rest if they don't find Arabelle, so there's no point in thinking of anything else yet.
Jack grinned at the question from Ola; and yet, he is not nearly so swift in answering for once. Instead Beren is given the honors this go around, if but so that the Eladrin could continue observe interactions between Ola and Beren for a little bit longer without his spoiling or detracting from things. Plus, he'd already mention his name in her presence, or at least the name to call him by while they were with the guards, so it was not a wholly unknown thing. However, in realizing most of her attention had been on Beren back then, Jack let out a chuckle out of the blue as the trio made their way down the path.
The whole while Jack appeared unbothered by the haunting forestry about them. But, if there had been so much as a snapped branch nearby, his hand would swiftly find the hilt of his scimitar as he looked about for the source, still smiling but with a tightness to it. As such a case is never destined to come about, Jack eventually chimes in, "You may feel free to refer to me as 'Jack' as well. A strange one for one such as I, I know, but that's a story for another time if you're ever interested in it. Though Noel would be able to tell it best, if only seeing as he has a greater flair for such things than I do." He confessed, before letting things slip back into companionable silence.
"Hmn~ Definitely one far too young to be about, and yet..." Jack let his quietly spoken commentary trail off there, as ill timing saw to it that Nivi and Luvash's own conversation was at its end. Fingers are waggled in greeting as attention is turned to his grouping, but the Eladrin's gaze lingered on the hooded figures for a time yet before looking to take in Nivi again. Initiative is lost in making introductions, but happily so, as the exchange left Jack snickering and having to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep from full on laughing at Beren's expense.
"Ah~ I needed that. Some might even say that even brightened my day as surely as a sun cresting over a horizon!" He declared. "But, that is neither here or there. As you have guess well and my friend here has asserted, such are the reason far our own arrival here." Jack said, assuring Luvash, Nivi, and the hooded elves. "Don't to perhaps correct my friend here least there are any sore feelings, it was more accurately said that she would visit here often, not so much disappeared from here. But that's probably just arguing semantics at this point." He said with a chuckle to his voice and a shrug thrown out at the end.
Jack then gives one of his customarily flamboyant bows and multiple times if needed to make sure both Luvash, the hooded figures, and Nivi were given their due. "You may all call me Jack by the way, for it is worth. And you have my most sincerest apologies for this late hour encounter. But if some time could be spared from all parties here, that would be most appreciated AND warrant a favor of some kind in return I imagine! Even if that favor is being left to be left to rest." He said, lightly jesting towards the end.
Goyo - [Tortle]Druid/Warlock - Circle of Sea/Celestial (Libretalia)
Nobody - [Feral-Tiefling]Wizard/Sorcerer - War/Draconic (HoTDQ)
Jack Vicvan - [Eladrin]Warlock - Archfey
-
Hiatus:
Xanrazan - [Earth Genasi]Bard - College of Swords(Shadowthorn's Princess of the Apocalypse)
Nivi's amiably rude grin turns into something resembling a companionable smile as she hears Beren, then Jack respond. Voice suddenly solemn and as if imitating one of her high elven family members, she intones with mock seriousness:
"So the prophecies of the Sun are disavowed by the glowing Avatar himself, while his glowering (not glowing) prophet is revealed to be a dark elf, averse to the very sunlight she reveres. Like a plot twist from the interminable plays my lady sister would attend in Silverymoon. Seeing as we all want a plot twist where we find this Arabelle girl, I say we 'outsiders' band together since everyone else wants us like they want a case of the bloody flux."
"Truth is, I likely found what you all did. Out of the mists and into Vallaki before the disappearance. Girl last seen at the 'dusk elf camp', which is where I was told to go stay with 'my own kind'. Festival of the Sun postponed until someone locates her. So that's the job - might as well finish it."
She glances at the cloaked and hooded dusk elves and on a whim, asks in classical, high Elvish, sounding like a highborn schoolgirl reciting her lessons (reaching for what she remembers of her sister's charm and grace):
"I beg pardon for my rough demeanor with the Vistani and other locals here. Already, they try my patience, though it has been but days since the mists brought me here from Faerun. I am Niva'ele Farstrider, at your service, fellow Tel-Quessir*. And my owl companion is called Shiv. I know not of your life here, nor of your plight, given the curse that seems to hang over this colorless world that Strahd rules, but would gladly listen and aid if you would so honor me. In the same spirit, I ask if you have any knowledge of the missing girl."
(* Tel-Quessir being what surface elves call themselves as a group in Faerun.)
Finally, she turns to include the Vistani in the discussion once more. "You with me Luvash? You've got the glow-knight of fireflies, an eladrin who likely knows his way around the woods, a prophet brimming with divine Sun magic, and me, a girl who knows a thing or two about kidnappers and their ways, sad to say." (Nivi doesn't sound sad). "And you... you got nothing to lose by giving us a shot. How about this - just tell us where you and your scouts are looking. I'm sure they're doing an ace job and all. But that way we can focus on, well, everywhere else and no one's time gets wasted, yeah?"
Inge(Barbarian2): Krayveneer's After the Fall | Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1): Uhtred's Windward Isles | Xarian(Fighter1): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(Druid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Nivi(Rogue4): Raiketsu's CoS
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4): MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return
Responding. Will be slow due to multiple pages.
Occassional Dungeon Master.
Luvash throws his hands in the air in frustration. You mock our scouts, and their scouts at the same time, yet you've also yet to find her despite all your blithering questions for days. I could call the guard now and tell the- he's cut off mid sentence at the approach of strangers to the camp, and he seems to be dancing the line between surprised to see new people and not shocked at all. The Dusk Elves that had been watching seemed bemused by the back-and-forth but they also seemed to be eying Nivi with a soft hunger and ulterior motives. Though their eyes held no stealth in where they looked if she was paying enough attention to notice, which she apparently was. Once the newcomers came, their attention shifted reluctantly but then again curiously... their eyes fell on Moira with a similar hunger in their eyes. Fromm Moira's perspective, very different from male Drow, whom were subservient. Though neither Nivi nor Moira would know why.
(Both Nivi/Moira may make an insight check if they wish, this will not count against the time limit)
Luvash and the trio of dusk elves watch on as the group converses.
-----
Moira doesn't say much, but her movements after the initial glances seem odd to them. Reminding them of a (gollum-like) figure. Someone trapped in their own head or their past, or something akin to that. Though this made Luvash cringe slightly, the dusk elves hesitated only momentarily before they seemed to 'not care' in the sense that they accepted her being as such. Moira likely found it odd. So far, she'd not met anyone who went directly to blades because of an 'accursed drow.'
----
At Nivi's response, the Vistani and dusk elf quartet do only just barely manage to stifle back a laugh, and for the first time Nivi see's Luvash smirk, but the scene continues to play out. Luvash himself seems to be taking his measure of both the situation, and the people, while everyone seems willing to 'share.'
----
Beren then finally speaks up for himself in the entirety of the situation, forcing Luvash' brow to rise before jack butts in with his own commentary. Though by this point Luvash and the Dusk elves seem bemused, they still wear the pall of depression this land hangs over everyone they've met, aside from the Vistani themselves. Nivi interjects again with more agnostic sarcasm. Luvsh seems bothered by the fact that that she suddenly switched to a language he didn't understand, and even the dusk elves seem confused. As though they understand only parts of what she's saying. But they seem to understand enough of it that one of them cobbles together a reply.
His voice is ashen as he speaks back in the same tongue, though it's clearly rough, and he's stumbling through the words.
She visited much. Arabelle. She held no hatred for us, as most here do. We know it would not be our kin who did it, despite how they treat us. We need them more than they need us. Without the town... we would be left to fight alone. And we would dissappear. he said, those last words with the weight of centuries behind it.
It would be Strahd. Some monster who dared near the camp and town and lucked to catch her unawares and us all distracted. Or one of the Vistani, or even town folk. We tell Luvash, but he refuse to believe it could be. We already went out to look. Nothing. That is all we .. 'know.' But we need rest now. You have no idea the dangers of this land, if you can still speak as such.
was all he said. it was clear enough to anyone who knew elvish of any kind that they had not spoken in that tongue in a long, long time. Despite the pallor that hung over the dusk elven heads, they still seemed to look between both Nivi and Moira with some inner hunger.
Luvash's brows both spike as it seems some action is finally going to be taken. About time! The only people here who haven't done anything for Arabelle are the four of you. So hop to it, or leave. As much as I've enjoyed your carnival show of a conversation, there isn't time to waste on it. Go, find her and maybe I'll even smile! he says with a heavy dose of sarcasm, as he crosses his arms.
The dusk elves finally look away, heading back into their home after a breif whispered word from one of the formerly silent ones. Leaving the group with only Luvash, and whoever may be inside their homes, or upon the hill.
But where have we looked? Almost everywhere. Scouted for five miles or more to the east, to the west, and to the south where Savid and some others went towards the old manse. We've checked most homes - abandoned or not, and found nothing. Well, except for the undead, and those twisted druids. I can't think of anywhere else she might be. Everything else is under our control nearby.
If you can find her i'll put in a good word, and we'll even fish up some extra fish from Lake Zarovich, just for you.
Occassional Dungeon Master.