A lone, dark green-skinned goblin stood alone atop a table. He was currently, a bit noisily, gnawing on a piece of meat that did not come from the inn. Before dawn broke, Mado was out on the hunt for his own breakfast. Specifically, elk, as they're easier to catch. He is wrapped in a blood-stained cloak that looks like it was made for a human, but was roughly cut and sewn in a way to fit his much smaller frame, plus holes for his ears. After scarfing the last of the elk down, he takes a hearty swig of water, burps, and, sits.
Eloris guides the "coffee" back to her possession, "Tut, tut, tut; introductions before riddles, 'my friend'. Speaking of riddles, what is it with this place? The hot water just did not seem quite hot enough." She takes another shudder-inducing swig before holding her hand out to the dwarf, "Eloris. I don't think we've met, have we?"
Vladimir shakes the proferred hand. "Vladimir Konstantine, slayer of vampires." He replies. "And hot vater is the least of your worries. Vhat brings you to the armpit of Faerun?" He inquires, calling for another pot of coffee.
Black Philip looks around sort of bemused at the crowd that’s gathered.
“Teeth and claws are Barovia’s souvenirs sold in dream-shops, it seems... Welcome to the table of Black Philip. All are welcome here,” he says with a sweeping gesture to all of them, including the horrid looking goblin.
Clearly the daughter of the man in charge of the inn comes and go with the food and beverages asked by the party but doesn't talk more than necessary.
A lad that couldn't be older than 15 years comes out of the kitchen with a wooden box filled with almost unedible vegetables, mostly carrots and turnips. but notices before exiting the building, he drops the box in a table nearby and reaches to the table and asks:
Are you here to kill...him? - his tone of voice was still monotone but with a little more life to it than any other person working or living in the inn.
Eloris has her body turned and gestures turned to answer the dwarf, but her face is tense from tired. She gently places a hand on the dwarf's arm and gives a smile in apology to cut of their conversation.
She gently rubs and eye and places the fingers on her temple, "I am sorry, have you... mistaken us for another mismatch group?"
The arrival of coffee doesn't go unnoticed and there's pouring into her cup and top up for the Vladimir's.
Wilhelm shifts a little in his seat a little as the young lad asks if the group of strangers were going to...take up such a task. For the moment, the young noble stayed silent, mostly because he wanted to hear how the others would respond to this. But, also because his food had arrived, and he was famished. As he ate, he noted to himself that, based on the responses he had heard so far, it seemed as though they did not know of the man who's shadow loomed hauntingly over Barovia. This situation was becoming interesting...
Well Strahd of course - says the kid - as soon as he says that an iron mug flies from the kitchen as the inn owner says almost yelling upset but for whatever reason it also looks like he can't get really upset - Silence Bogan! I'm sure they don't want to get involved with that nonsense you love to talk about.
Bogan says only to the party - Don't mind this old man, he's a coward as almost everyone else here...I have a friend that I'm sure will love to meet you in the Blood of the Vine Tavern, just a couple of buildings next to this old dump - Says Bogan looking a little too excited just to talk to you. - I gotta go. Hope that I see you around - Says before heading to his box and glancing to any weapons or armor that he can catch with his eyes.
After he exits the place, the daughter of the owner brings a another pot with coffee and says, please don't mind him - She then will let you know how much it'll be for everything which is going to be just 5 cp per character (lodging and all)
"Anyone know what that business was all about?" Morgan asked with a glance to the others at the table. "Who is this guy, and why would a little boy want him dealt with?"
"So, you aren't natives." Wilhelm chimed in now, leaning in to be seen by all at the table. "If you have not heard of Strahd, then that much is certain." He pauses to take a swig of his coffee, creating an almost dramatic effect. "You outsiders walk on cursed ground, and, as you have probably deciphered for yourself by now, the source of that curse is the one known as Strahd."
He looked around the table, studying each of the strangers who he shared this information with. "The Devil Strahd, the curse upon Barovia. That would be why the lad wants the vampire...dealt with." He stopped, thoughtfully. "I don't envy you all, for what you have unwittingly walked yourselves into, upon entering Barovia. The air here is poisoned with malice."
At the first mention of Baron Vladimir’s countenance darkens, and he slams his mug down violently, spilling coffee across the countertop. “Strahd!” He spits, uttering a dwarven oath. He turns to the young man beside him, his expression grim. “I know the name all too vell. I haff lived here since I vas but a child.” He raises his eyes imploringly to the heavens. “Long haff I prayed for the chance to rid my people of his shadow forever.”
"Then why haven't you done so?" Morgan asks with a questioning look. "Is he that powerful, or is there some other reason you have not raised enough strength to get rid of him?" Morgan runs a hand over the hilt of his sword, assuring himself it was there and ready should he need it in the days to come.
"Few do." Wilhelm followed on from Vladimir. "Perhaps in a collaborative effort. But even then..." Another swig of his coffee, followed by a deep sigh. "That said, I don't think there'll be any leaving here for any of us, unless Strahd is slain, or otherwise allows it. Quite the predicament."
”A vampire? An entity of darkness and death. A leach of life itself... and probably responsible for my friends‘ disappearance” Black Philip’s voice softens. ”How can I help?”
"There has to be a way to remove this creature." Morgan says, almost to himself. Glancing around the table a moment, he shrugs. "You say we cannot leave here if he does not allow it, what do you mean by that?" He narrows his gaze as the thought of staying here, with the sort of dreams like last night, was not appealing to him in the least.
"That is the Devil Strahd. Well, it is part of it." Wilhelm explains to Morgan. "He has the occupants of this land trapped within it. So long as he wills it, you will never leave Barovia." Wilhelm grit his teeth, though kept his mouth closed to hide those teeth, as if in an attempt to mask his disgust that such a creature could exist. "He closes off the borders of the land, with a poisonous mist. Even those of you with atunement to magic should not attempt to pass this mist."
"You wish to help?" Wilhelm's eyebrow raises with curiosity. His features softens, and he smiles, extending a hand to the Tiefling. "My name is Wilhelm, of House Westervel. We may share a common goal. The removal of Strahd, from these lands."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
A lone, dark green-skinned goblin stood alone atop a table. He was currently, a bit noisily, gnawing on a piece of meat that did not come from the inn. Before dawn broke, Mado was out on the hunt for his own breakfast. Specifically, elk, as they're easier to catch. He is wrapped in a blood-stained cloak that looks like it was made for a human, but was roughly cut and sewn in a way to fit his much smaller frame, plus holes for his ears. After scarfing the last of the elk down, he takes a hearty swig of water, burps, and, sits.
Eloris guides the "coffee" back to her possession, "Tut, tut, tut; introductions before riddles, 'my friend'. Speaking of riddles, what is it with this place? The hot water just did not seem quite hot enough." She takes another shudder-inducing swig before holding her hand out to the dwarf, "Eloris. I don't think we've met, have we?"
Vladimir shakes the proferred hand. "Vladimir Konstantine, slayer of vampires." He replies. "And hot vater is the least of your worries. Vhat brings you to the armpit of Faerun?" He inquires, calling for another pot of coffee.
Arrila rubs her eyes and blinks, still not feeling fully awake even though she'd just spent the whole night sleeping.
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Black Philip looks around sort of bemused at the crowd that’s gathered.
“Teeth and claws are Barovia’s souvenirs sold in dream-shops, it seems... Welcome to the table of Black Philip. All are welcome here,” he says with a sweeping gesture to all of them, including the horrid looking goblin.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Clearly the daughter of the man in charge of the inn comes and go with the food and beverages asked by the party but doesn't talk more than necessary.
A lad that couldn't be older than 15 years comes out of the kitchen with a wooden box filled with almost unedible vegetables, mostly carrots and turnips. but notices before exiting the building, he drops the box in a table nearby and reaches to the table and asks:
Are you here to kill...him? - his tone of voice was still monotone but with a little more life to it than any other person working or living in the inn.
“... Kill who?” Black Philip says in his resonant timbre.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Eloris has her body turned and gestures turned to answer the dwarf, but her face is tense from tired. She gently places a hand on the dwarf's arm and gives a smile in apology to cut of their conversation.
She gently rubs and eye and places the fingers on her temple, "I am sorry, have you... mistaken us for another mismatch group?"
The arrival of coffee doesn't go unnoticed and there's pouring into her cup and top up for the Vladimir's.
Wilhelm shifts a little in his seat a little as the young lad asks if the group of strangers were going to...take up such a task. For the moment, the young noble stayed silent, mostly because he wanted to hear how the others would respond to this. But, also because his food had arrived, and he was famished. As he ate, he noted to himself that, based on the responses he had heard so far, it seemed as though they did not know of the man who's shadow loomed hauntingly over Barovia. This situation was becoming interesting...
Well Strahd of course - says the kid - as soon as he says that an iron mug flies from the kitchen as the inn owner says almost yelling upset but for whatever reason it also looks like he can't get really upset - Silence Bogan! I'm sure they don't want to get involved with that nonsense you love to talk about.
Bogan says only to the party - Don't mind this old man, he's a coward as almost everyone else here...I have a friend that I'm sure will love to meet you in the Blood of the Vine Tavern, just a couple of buildings next to this old dump - Says Bogan looking a little too excited just to talk to you. - I gotta go. Hope that I see you around - Says before heading to his box and glancing to any weapons or armor that he can catch with his eyes.
After he exits the place, the daughter of the owner brings a another pot with coffee and says, please don't mind him - She then will let you know how much it'll be for everything which is going to be just 5 cp per character (lodging and all)
"Anyone know what that business was all about?" Morgan asked with a glance to the others at the table. "Who is this guy, and why would a little boy want him dealt with?"
“And why would the innkeep be so upset about it? I’m curious. And I could use someone who owes me a favor...”
Paladin - warforged - orange
"So, you aren't natives." Wilhelm chimed in now, leaning in to be seen by all at the table. "If you have not heard of Strahd, then that much is certain." He pauses to take a swig of his coffee, creating an almost dramatic effect. "You outsiders walk on cursed ground, and, as you have probably deciphered for yourself by now, the source of that curse is the one known as Strahd."
He looked around the table, studying each of the strangers who he shared this information with. "The Devil Strahd, the curse upon Barovia. That would be why the lad wants the vampire...dealt with." He stopped, thoughtfully. "I don't envy you all, for what you have unwittingly walked yourselves into, upon entering Barovia. The air here is poisoned with malice."
At the first mention of Baron Vladimir’s countenance darkens, and he slams his mug down violently, spilling coffee across the countertop. “Strahd!” He spits, uttering a dwarven oath. He turns to the young man beside him, his expression grim. “I know the name all too vell. I haff lived here since I vas but a child.” He raises his eyes imploringly to the heavens. “Long haff I prayed for the chance to rid my people of his shadow forever.”
"Then why haven't you done so?" Morgan asks with a questioning look. "Is he that powerful, or is there some other reason you have not raised enough strength to get rid of him?" Morgan runs a hand over the hilt of his sword, assuring himself it was there and ready should he need it in the days to come.
Vladimir sighs disconsolately. “It is whispered that Strahd is the most powerful vampire to ever live. One on one, I haff no chance.”
"Few do." Wilhelm followed on from Vladimir. "Perhaps in a collaborative effort. But even then..." Another swig of his coffee, followed by a deep sigh. "That said, I don't think there'll be any leaving here for any of us, unless Strahd is slain, or otherwise allows it. Quite the predicament."
”A vampire? An entity of darkness and death. A leach of life itself... and probably responsible for my friends‘ disappearance” Black Philip’s voice softens. ”How can I help?”
Paladin - warforged - orange
"There has to be a way to remove this creature." Morgan says, almost to himself. Glancing around the table a moment, he shrugs. "You say we cannot leave here if he does not allow it, what do you mean by that?" He narrows his gaze as the thought of staying here, with the sort of dreams like last night, was not appealing to him in the least.
"That is the Devil Strahd. Well, it is part of it." Wilhelm explains to Morgan. "He has the occupants of this land trapped within it. So long as he wills it, you will never leave Barovia." Wilhelm grit his teeth, though kept his mouth closed to hide those teeth, as if in an attempt to mask his disgust that such a creature could exist. "He closes off the borders of the land, with a poisonous mist. Even those of you with atunement to magic should not attempt to pass this mist."
"You wish to help?" Wilhelm's eyebrow raises with curiosity. His features softens, and he smiles, extending a hand to the Tiefling. "My name is Wilhelm, of House Westervel. We may share a common goal. The removal of Strahd, from these lands."