Following the directions in the Letters you all received, it doesn't take long before they lead you from familiar roads that you know so well... onto a disused trail overgrown by weeds and the roots of spindly trees. A light drizzle begins to fall as you travel. As you approach a wooded crossroads, the leaden rain makes the cloaked form standing there... seem all the more unreal.
Each of you see the same sight: some sort of humanoid figure, barely visible through the distant mist. A person of standard intelligence might recognize that you're no longer where you should be. Other than the figure before you, the only thing visible to you is the path forward to the crossroads, and the path back behind you, shrouded in mist.
You do not see each other; how do each of you respond to what you see?
Svetlana's Initiative (rolling it in a separate post because I often edit a post... and I've found that this has a high probability of causing the forum to re-roll the rolls): 18
Svetlana's Initiative (rolling it in a separate post because I often edit a post... and I've found that this has a high probability of causing the forum to re-roll the rolls): 18
The last of the dusk elf maidens, being a Barovian, does not feel at all safe, at the sight of the mists all around...
The voices in her mind don't take long to make themselves heard: "It's a trap Svetlana! I told you so!" "You should have stopped before the mists surrounded you..." "Run, Svetlana! Run past the figure in the mists!" "No! Stay away from itherm Kill them from here!"
Svetlana is used to the cacophony of thoughts that resonate so often inside her skull, but when the Voices are so excited to actually speak all at once, they still have the power to stun her... it's like being in the middle of a crowded square where everyone tries to talk to you. Only, the square is your head.
Gritting her teeth and concentrating on regaining control of her mind, the savage stranger replies to the crowd that shares her skull: "I came looking for help... Let's at least see if I managed to find it or not. I need help".
Even without holding it right now, the last of the dusk elf maidens keeps herself ready to draw her bow at any moment. But, in the meantime, she tries to make clear she has no hostile intentions, also considering that she is not wearing any armour, only worn skins to defend herself in some way from the cold and humidity. She appears simply as a woman with particularly chiseled features, with brown hair, now so thick and long to effectively hide her ears, and azure eyes that, at the moment, seem equally determined and scared. Eager to understand who has come to meet her, she calls out to the indistinct figure: "Are you the one who called me here? Are you Ezmerelda?"
The rain leaves Rufus's gossamer hair splattered across his forehead. He wipes his eyes to clear his vision, taking his time to navigate the gnarled tree roots that seem to have overtaken the path. He hadn't meant to wander so far into the woods adjacent the estate, yet here he is. He thinks it strange how perverse memory can be, painting a picture in his mind's eye the wood he had explored so often as a boy. Yet these woods are nothing like what he remembers. When had the trees grown so tall, stark, and ominous? When had the path become so overgrown? When had...
He freezes mid-stride, just rounding the trunk of a large, black oak. In the distance, a figure stands. He remember the words scrawled in the letter. Find me in the mist. But this. This could not be! Edgar is long dead. This is some practical joke, some mockery levied against him, a cruel jest.
Find me.
Rufus draws his crossbow and takes a step closer. "Hail!" he cries, trying to keep his voice steady. "What business do you have in these woods?"
Radallion plays his flute as he makes his trek back home trying his best to remain calm. ‘Stay calm stay calm stay— what’s that ominous human shaped log doing in the middle of the road? Wait is it even a tree stump? It’s hard to tell from this distance’. Radallion stops playing his flute and squints and the figure.
“Hello There! You’re not a human shaped tree stump are you? If you are then this would be pretty weird! And if your not please stop standing there ominously your creeping me out! Thank you!”
‘I just thanked a tree stump…… I don’t like this mist… why the heck am I going back home?!? I just left! My dumb goodie two shoe jerk of a brother sends me a vaguely endearing but mostly rude letter and I run back desperately I could be sitting down eating a nice meal but nooooo I’m it the cold dark scary forest with a stick that’s probably possessed by a demon or something. Thanks me you really thought this one through’.
Much as she might never admit it, much as she might hate it, Rhykal is rattled; she feels the discomfort of this place crawling beneath her skin, lodging inside her chest, and it makes her antsy, restless, furious. She runs a hand through dark, curly hair, briefly touches her fingers to the hilt of a two-handed sword, strapped to her side. She doesn’t know where she is, hasn’t known in too many hours — and as accustomed as she is to the dark, this mist is as unfamiliar as it is unsettling. She’s not an idiot, mostly; she knows something’s wrong. She knows she shouldn’t have come. She wonders, distantly, if this is Fell’s revenge, somehow — perhaps from beyond the grave, impossibly, perhaps —
The sight of the figure startles her back to her senses, and she silently curses herself for losing focus. Whoever this is — well, perhaps a hero would give them the benefit of the doubt; perhaps she should risk vulnerability in case this really is Fell; perhaps a moderate greeting, in case she’s found a fellow lost traveler— “And who the hell do you think you are?” is what she says instead, like if the words are sharp enough, she can pretend herself out of uncertainty.
Miralen knew immediately that she had stumbled into an unfamiliar place. All around her was a thick fog, curling around a dark, shadowy forest. Ahead of her, she could see a wooded crossroads and behind her, the mists had taken over her path. With her vision clouded and a light rain starting to form, she decided to keep moving forward, trying to navigate the overgrown forest, when a slight movement ahead catches her attention. Straining to see through the mist, she spots a cloaked figure, stopping her in her tracks. Miralen, with her heart sprinting in her chest, suspects she's finally made it to the letters destination.
With a quick draw of her bow, she aims an arrow at the figure,
Rolling initiative for Ansur, will follow up with a post when I get the chance: 8
As the rain begins to fall, the hardened dwarf clothed in layers of furs and leathers, raises the hood of his cloak to keep dry. He sniffs the air searching for the presence of what might challenge him next, using the worn handle of his maul as a makeshift walking stick as he pushes the brush around the trail ensuring no traps lie before him, he proceeds towards the crossroads. A glance forward reveals the mysterious figure as the drizzle turns into mist, blurring the surroundings he raises his maul over his shoulder, licking his lips at the sight of his potential prey.
"Oi beastie, you the one with the funny note? Lure me into your own turf and make me suffer will ya? I accept the challenge, but will stay the hunter hehe." He says as he caustiously approaches the figure ready to swing when in range, his instincts sharpened for moments like these; he picks up the pace.
As each of you make your call-out to the cloaked figure, you hear (Almost simultaneously) various indistinguishable voices coming from different directions in the crossroads. The figure's head snaps up, glaring with piercing, yellow eyes. What you took for a cloak spreads around it, revealing itself to be a pair of mighty black wings. With one powerful motion and a blast of chill air, the wings sweep and the vague figure is gone.
All party members except Ansur:
From the spot where the cloaked figure departed, you see yet another, much stouter figure appear; slow at first, but then rushing toward the center of the crossroads.
Ansur:
As you begin to rush in, the cloaked figure notices you, and with a gust of wind, flaps away. A few feathers seem to drift and fall back down at the ground where the creature stood. as you move toward its previous location... you see various forms in the distance: each one staring at you from every path of the crossroads with the exception of the path you came down. You're surrounded.
At this time, you are all within sight and earshot of each other.
"Edga--" Rufus recoils back when the massive winged thing takes to the foggy air. Spotting another figure moving quickly toward the intersection further puts his nerves on edge. And then there are the voices. Taking in a breath, he bounds over to a nearby tree and tucks behind it, crossbow held at the ready. Foolish! It isn't like him to act so recklessly, so uncalculated. Was I so eager to place myself into some sort of trap? He waits, silently, to observe the crossroads.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Radallions flute is abruptly cut off by his involuntary jump back when the ‘tree stump’ takes flight
‘Ok noted definitely not a tree stump. Am I going crazy or were there other people talking? Ah yes I see them there but I mean I did mistake a humanoid bat thing for a dead tree so the crazy option is definitely possible… I do see them though maybe I should ask them’.
“Ahem your real right? I’m either I’m crazy or there’s other people here. I’m not sure which one I would prefer but I come in peace if you’re real”
Smile broadly and try to convey my intentions of peace. Persuasion 15 Move 30ft (or however much less it takes to get to the middle of the crossroads) real casual like stroll
Rufus' senses are heightened as things develop rapidly. Instincts kick in as he shunts lower to the ground, moves just off the path to be obscured by a large withering tree, quiet... and aware.
Rufus is first in initiative so his action is locked in-- I'll wait on the rest to continue.
“Absolutely not,” Rhykal thinks to herself, quite suddenly; no, whatever some heroic stranger might do in her place is entirely beside the point. What Rhykal would like to do, as it turns out, is survive this evening, and these unsettling figures, and the sudden swell of noise she can’t initially make out, and this nightmarish, alien fog, pressing in all around her. So Rhykal tightens her jaw and takes one step forward, then another, in the direction of the crossroads, sliding her greatsword from its hilt as she does — which is exactly when the outlines of several other figures come into focus. It’s the figure barreling toward the crossroads that worries her most, though — attention drawn back toward it, she calls to them: “What exactly is your hurry, stranger?”
Not really relevant since we’re not currently in combat, but Rhykal is basically readying an attack action in case anything threatening rushes into melee range.
Svetlana sees the mysterious figure open its wings and take flight.
The Voices in her head are quick to comment: "It wasn't Ezmerelda!" "She was a trap, I knew it!" “If you knew, why didn't you explain it to all of us, Olivenka?” "Because you wouldn't have listened to me!" "You must flee, Svetlana!" "Fight for your life, Svetlana!" "We are with you!"
"...And I don't have the slightest doubt about this last statement!" the last of the Dusk Elf Maidens thinks sarcastically, struggling to reason clearly in that tide of thoughts that always risk drowning or wrecking her own "Now... why don't you try instead to help me remember what creature it could be, that who took flight? So that I know whether I should consider her a danger - and how can she harm me?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Svetlana tries to figure out what creature it could have been - it should be a History roll - if it's something else, DM, tell me so that we keep the d20 roll valid and simply apply the right Skill modifier: 17
If the roll is high enough to understand something, feel free to tell me, DM. However, regardless...
After briefly trying to understand what kind of creature the mysterious winged being was, Svetlana realizes that there are other creatures that, however, have not escaped at all...
The last of the dusk elf maidens decides on caution and, quickly, using her native stealth, suddenly vanishes, as if she had suddenly dissolved into the mists.
-The House of Lament-
Following the directions in the Letters you all received, it doesn't take long before they lead you from familiar roads that you know so well... onto a disused trail overgrown by weeds and the roots of spindly trees. A light drizzle begins to fall as you travel. As you approach a wooded crossroads, the leaden rain makes the cloaked form standing there... seem all the more unreal.
Each of you see the same sight: some sort of humanoid figure, barely visible through the distant mist. A person of standard intelligence might recognize that you're no longer where you should be. Other than the figure before you, the only thing visible to you is the path forward to the crossroads, and the path back behind you, shrouded in mist.
You do not see each other; how do each of you respond to what you see?
Svetlana's Initiative (rolling it in a separate post because I often edit a post... and I've found that this has a high probability of causing the forum to re-roll the rolls): 18
The last of the dusk elf maidens, being a Barovian, does not feel at all safe, at the sight of the mists all around...
The voices in her mind don't take long to make themselves heard:
"It's a trap Svetlana! I told you so!"
"You should have stopped before the mists surrounded you..."
"Run, Svetlana! Run past the figure in the mists!"
"No! Stay away from itherm Kill them from here!"
Svetlana is used to the cacophony of thoughts that resonate so often inside her skull, but when the Voices are so excited to actually speak all at once, they still have the power to stun her... it's like being in the middle of a crowded square where everyone tries to talk to you. Only, the square is your head.
Gritting her teeth and concentrating on regaining control of her mind, the savage stranger replies to the crowd that shares her skull: "I came looking for help... Let's at least see if I managed to find it or not. I need help".
Even without holding it right now, the last of the dusk elf maidens keeps herself ready to draw her bow at any moment. But, in the meantime, she tries to make clear she has no hostile intentions, also considering that she is not wearing any armour, only worn skins to defend herself in some way from the cold and humidity. She appears simply as a woman with particularly chiseled features, with brown hair, now so thick and long to effectively hide her ears, and azure eyes that, at the moment, seem equally determined and scared. Eager to understand who has come to meet her, she calls out to the indistinct figure: "Are you the one who called me here? Are you Ezmerelda?"
The rain leaves Rufus's gossamer hair splattered across his forehead. He wipes his eyes to clear his vision, taking his time to navigate the gnarled tree roots that seem to have overtaken the path. He hadn't meant to wander so far into the woods adjacent the estate, yet here he is. He thinks it strange how perverse memory can be, painting a picture in his mind's eye the wood he had explored so often as a boy. Yet these woods are nothing like what he remembers. When had the trees grown so tall, stark, and ominous? When had the path become so overgrown? When had...
He freezes mid-stride, just rounding the trunk of a large, black oak. In the distance, a figure stands. He remember the words scrawled in the letter. Find me in the mist. But this. This could not be! Edgar is long dead. This is some practical joke, some mockery levied against him, a cruel jest.
Find me.
Rufus draws his crossbow and takes a step closer. "Hail!" he cries, trying to keep his voice steady. "What business do you have in these woods?"
Initiative: 18
Initiative: 3
Radallion plays his flute as he makes his trek back home trying his best to remain calm. ‘Stay calm stay calm stay— what’s that ominous human shaped log doing in the middle of the road? Wait is it even a tree stump? It’s hard to tell from this distance’. Radallion stops playing his flute and squints and the figure.
“Hello There! You’re not a human shaped tree stump are you? If you are then this would be pretty weird! And if your not please stop standing there ominously your creeping me out! Thank you!”
‘I just thanked a tree stump…… I don’t like this mist… why the heck am I going back home?!? I just left! My dumb goodie two shoe jerk of a brother sends me a vaguely endearing but mostly rude letter and I run back desperately I could be sitting down eating a nice meal but nooooo I’m it the cold dark scary forest with a stick that’s probably possessed by a demon or something. Thanks me you really thought this one through’.
Radallion starts playing his flute again
Much as she might never admit it, much as she might hate it, Rhykal is rattled; she feels the discomfort of this place crawling beneath her skin, lodging inside her chest, and it makes her antsy, restless, furious. She runs a hand through dark, curly hair, briefly touches her fingers to the hilt of a two-handed sword, strapped to her side. She doesn’t know where she is, hasn’t known in too many hours — and as accustomed as she is to the dark, this mist is as unfamiliar as it is unsettling. She’s not an idiot, mostly; she knows something’s wrong. She knows she shouldn’t have come. She wonders, distantly, if this is Fell’s revenge, somehow — perhaps from beyond the grave, impossibly, perhaps —
The sight of the figure startles her back to her senses, and she silently curses herself for losing focus. Whoever this is — well, perhaps a hero would give them the benefit of the doubt; perhaps she should risk vulnerability in case this really is Fell; perhaps a moderate greeting, in case she’s found a fellow lost traveler— “And who the hell do you think you are?” is what she says instead, like if the words are sharp enough, she can pretend herself out of uncertainty.
Initiative: 15
**My new roll made with my very own digital dice wish me luck everyone**
Initiative 3
Rolling initiative for Ansur, will follow up with a post when I get the chance: 4
Miralen knew immediately that she had stumbled into an unfamiliar place. All around her was a thick fog, curling around a dark, shadowy forest. Ahead of her, she could see a wooded crossroads and behind her, the mists had taken over her path. With her vision clouded and a light rain starting to form, she decided to keep moving forward, trying to navigate the overgrown forest, when a slight movement ahead catches her attention. Straining to see through the mist, she spots a cloaked figure, stopping her in her tracks. Miralen, with her heart sprinting in her chest, suspects she's finally made it to the letters destination.
With a quick draw of her bow, she aims an arrow at the figure,
"Who are you!" she shouts.
Initiative roll : 11
As the rain begins to fall, the hardened dwarf clothed in layers of furs and leathers, raises the hood of his cloak to keep dry. He sniffs the air searching for the presence of what might challenge him next, using the worn handle of his maul as a makeshift walking stick as he pushes the brush around the trail ensuring no traps lie before him, he proceeds towards the crossroads. A glance forward reveals the mysterious figure as the drizzle turns into mist, blurring the surroundings he raises his maul over his shoulder, licking his lips at the sight of his potential prey.
"Oi beastie, you the one with the funny note? Lure me into your own turf and make me suffer will ya? I accept the challenge, but will stay the hunter hehe." He says as he caustiously approaches the figure ready to swing when in range, his instincts sharpened for moments like these; he picks up the pace.
INITIATIVE ORDER:
18(High) Rufus
18(low) Svetlana
15 Rhykal
11 Miralen
8 Ansur
4 Radallion
As each of you make your call-out to the cloaked figure, you hear (Almost simultaneously) various indistinguishable voices coming from different directions in the crossroads. The figure's head snaps up, glaring with piercing, yellow eyes. What you took for a cloak spreads around it, revealing itself to be a pair of mighty black wings. With one powerful motion and a blast of chill air, the wings sweep and the vague figure is gone.
All party members except Ansur:
From the spot where the cloaked figure departed, you see yet another, much stouter figure appear; slow at first, but then rushing toward the center of the crossroads.
Ansur:
As you begin to rush in, the cloaked figure notices you, and with a gust of wind, flaps away. A few feathers seem to drift and fall back down at the ground where the creature stood. as you move toward its previous location... you see various forms in the distance: each one staring at you from every path of the crossroads with the exception of the path you came down. You're surrounded.
At this time, you are all within sight and earshot of each other.
"Edga--" Rufus recoils back when the massive winged thing takes to the foggy air. Spotting another figure moving quickly toward the intersection further puts his nerves on edge. And then there are the voices. Taking in a breath, he bounds over to a nearby tree and tucks behind it, crossbow held at the ready. Foolish! It isn't like him to act so recklessly, so uncalculated. Was I so eager to place myself into some sort of trap? He waits, silently, to observe the crossroads.
Move, Action (Hide)
Rufus Stealth: 18
Radallions flute is abruptly cut off by his involuntary jump back when the ‘tree stump’ takes flight
‘Ok noted definitely not a tree stump. Am I going crazy or were there other people talking? Ah yes I see them there but I mean I did mistake a humanoid bat thing for a dead tree so the crazy option is definitely possible… I do see them though maybe I should ask them’.
“Ahem your real right? I’m either I’m crazy or there’s other people here. I’m not sure which one I would prefer but I come in peace if you’re real”
Smile broadly and try to convey my intentions of peace. Persuasion 15
Move 30ft (or however much less it takes to get to the middle of the crossroads) real casual like stroll
Rufus' senses are heightened as things develop rapidly. Instincts kick in as he shunts lower to the ground, moves just off the path to be obscured by a large withering tree, quiet... and aware.
Rufus is first in initiative so his action is locked in-- I'll wait on the rest to continue.
“Absolutely not,” Rhykal thinks to herself, quite suddenly; no, whatever some heroic stranger might do in her place is entirely beside the point. What Rhykal would like to do, as it turns out, is survive this evening, and these unsettling figures, and the sudden swell of noise she can’t initially make out, and this nightmarish, alien fog, pressing in all around her. So Rhykal tightens her jaw and takes one step forward, then another, in the direction of the crossroads, sliding her greatsword from its hilt as she does — which is exactly when the outlines of several other figures come into focus. It’s the figure barreling toward the crossroads that worries her most, though — attention drawn back toward it, she calls to them: “What exactly is your hurry, stranger?”
Not really relevant since we’re not currently in combat, but Rhykal is basically readying an attack action in case anything threatening rushes into melee range.
Svetlana sees the mysterious figure open its wings and take flight.
The Voices in her head are quick to comment:
"It wasn't Ezmerelda!"
"She was a trap, I knew it!"
“If you knew, why didn't you explain it to all of us, Olivenka?”
"Because you wouldn't have listened to me!"
"You must flee, Svetlana!"
"Fight for your life, Svetlana!"
"We are with you!"
"...And I don't have the slightest doubt about this last statement!" the last of the Dusk Elf Maidens thinks sarcastically, struggling to reason clearly in that tide of thoughts that always risk drowning or wrecking her own "Now... why don't you try instead to help me remember what creature it could be, that who took flight? So that I know whether I should consider her a danger - and how can she harm me?"
Svetlana tries to figure out what creature it could have been - it should be a History roll - if it's something else, DM, tell me so that we keep the d20 roll valid and simply apply the right Skill modifier: 17
If the roll is high enough to understand something, feel free to tell me, DM. However, regardless...
After briefly trying to understand what kind of creature the mysterious winged being was, Svetlana realizes that there are other creatures that, however, have not escaped at all...
The last of the dusk elf maidens decides on caution and, quickly, using her native stealth, suddenly vanishes, as if she had suddenly dissolved into the mists.
Svetlana uses the Mask of the Wild feature to hide in spite of being only lightly obscured by foliage and mist. Stealth: 12