Looking at the people that she has just met, Valerie is not sure what to think of them. Should she trust them? Are they foe or allies? She needs time to get to know them better.
"Very well." She turns to Ioben. "I shall go with you to Strahd. I also have some question for this person." She pauses for a moment. "Hmm. If it is as you said that we currently are in Barovia. Do you think we can find a person name Ismark Kolyanovich?"
"The problem is, I have no idea where Strahd is. I would get moving but..." Ioben indicates to the final person asleep on the ground. "Strength in numbers you know. How do you know that name? Ismark Kolyanovich?"
Slowly, he stirs. The rough, patched fabric of his long coat scratches against the dirt and rock beneath softly. The dreadfully familiar and hauntingly desirable taste of old alcohol slicks his tongue and throat with foul taste, and there is a soft grunt as it stirs him to wakefulness. But it is the voices that catch his attention and spring him to alertness, his eyes narrowed and body unmoving where it lay stretched more than six and a half feet along the ground. Too many times he has woken to find himself surrounded by thieves or worse, desperate and evil people who sought to take advantage of an unconscious wanderer. Too many times those men and women did not survive long enough to know their folly.
Yet this is different. These voices are softer, curious, lacking the sharp tinge of villains gathering around prey. There is... confusion among them. Uncertainty. After a second they raise no alarm within him, no fear. Slowly he pushes himself to his knees, blinking against the fog at those figures nearby only for his attention to be caught by the soft clink of a pouch dropping to the ground next to him, rolling out from inside his coat. Eyes narrowed, he picks up the bag in one massive hand, feeling the recognizable yet too rare feel of coin within the small leather bag. In the next second it vanishes within his coat as he brings up the small letter that was with it. His face is not difficult to read as concentration overtakes him for a moment as he struggles with the words. Soon enough he shakes his head and slips the note away as he did the coin purse, rising to his feet.
The cool mist slides over his stubbled face and head, heavy features muted in the dim light as surely as the shapeless form of his coat obscures the details of his noticeably ox-like frame. One hand reaches down and picks up the bag that had been lying next to him, a weatherworn and beaten thing that he carelessly slings over his left shoulder, his eyes now drifting from one stranger before him to the next. The decision is easy, for now. They are all strangers here, all travelers without knowledge or purpose other than to seek answers. For now, it was more purpose than he had seen in years.
"My name is Alder, and I am as lost as you. Lead, and I shall follow."
'Yeah, well...' Sandu started, 'Where I'm from, armour doesn't talk. Or walk around. Or... do anything other than being worn.'
He rubbed his temples as an headache came on. This all felt like some sort of joke: dump a bunch of strangers out in the woods, give them some cryptic clue and hope they don't completely turn on each other. Sounded like a hobby for an aristocrat with too much time and money. Strahd von Zarovich... The name sounded familiar despite it being the first time Sandu heard the name in his life.
He turned towards the others, who by now numbered five total. 'So some unknown person dumps you in his backyard without consent or whatnot for shits and giggles and your first instinct is to go find this guy? You're all mad!'He clutched his staff to steady himself as he slid his letter into a coat pocket. 'Name's Sandu by the way. Just Sandu.'
Finishing his letter he asks “ah, did this Strahd refer to anyone else as ‘son’?”
Sandu glanced at the dwarf. 'You related to this Stradh figure?'He asked incredulously.
Just as Sandu finishes his question a great din echoes out over the land. This is immediately followed by a slow, CREEEAAAKING sound as the mighty gates begin to slowly open.
A strange black cloud seems to emerge from the other side of the gates. As it approaches the groups location there is a realisation that the 'cloud' is not what it appears but rather swarms of tiny bats, their wings flapping furiously. The swarm flies directly at the group before, last moment, taking a swift up turn and dispersing into the night.
In their wake, the land is once again quiet, eerily so. The path before you is clear and the gates are now open.
Alder shrugs at the one called Sandu and opens his mouth as if to speak, only to freeze as the sound interrupts him. His body tenses, his free hand curling into a fist and his weight shifting. There is a fleeting look of anticipation on his face as the gate begins to creak open, only to be replaced by confusion as the swarm pours through and wheels off into the night. He watches after them a moment before looking back to Sandu, shrugging once more.
"This seems a strange place. Makes sense to look for answers in the only clue we have been given."
Valerie ducks down to avoid the swamp of bat charging through her. She then takes out her sword and get near the gate. "There is no point waiting here. We don't know where we are, and why we are here. All we've got are these two names. We shall move forward and look for people who might have answers for us."
Despite his fear Baern tries to keep his feet planted as the bat swarm approaches, but can't help but shield his face just before they turn to the sky.
In response to Sandu's question about the 'son' reference Baern simply replies "no"with confidence, adding "I knew all me kin back two generations, and Strahd Von Zarovich is no proper dwarf name, I know that much!"
Bearn assumes no one else was referred to as 'son' or anything else of the sort in their letters, or at least no one wants to speak of it.
Agreeing to move forward with the others in search of answers, Baern collects his things and stows away Strahd's coin and letter. "If we're to venture into this strange place, I could use some proper armor and a good weapon." The party can see him with one hand on a handaxe at his hip, and dressed in not much more than traveler's cloths. "Got robbed of my gear a few days back."
(Because I started with a level as sorcerer, Baern doesn't get much for martial starting gear. As a dwarf he could don some armor though, and with the next cleric level he'll be fully able to wear plate and shield, so he's just particularly vulnerable right now in the short term.)
As the swarm of bats rush past him Dormark had no reaction to them, and as they past he says, “Well looks like the way is foreword. Does anybody got a lantern or something? Dwarves forgot to give me night vision when they made me.”
Baern is studying his note again, confused. Hearing Dormark again he snaps out of it and says "oh, ah, will a torch do?" He's happy to offer one to this interesting new... thing.
Nodding his head in appreciation Domark says, “Thank you I’ll help you get your armor situated, later.”
Grabbing his tinder box he quickly gets a flame started on the torch and begins to walk towards the gates.”Whether for ill or good the path seems to be forward, I suggest we stick together we don’t know what there is out there,” he says looking at the ground he passes by.
(Dormark is looking for herbs that could be useful for medicine particularly healing potions. Since I’m posting from my phone, could roll for me dm? He’ll use whatever check you deem appropriate under the influence of guidance so add a d4 to the roll.)
Ioben turns toward the sound of the opening gates and scrambles back as the cloud rushes through the ever-growing maw leading into the unknown lands beyond. grabbing for his rapier, he looks for cover, wondering what he can do against a cloud. As he hurries toward a nearby tree, the first bat becomes visible and banks sharply, leaving Ioben surprised, and panting for breath.
"Oh, just bats," he says. The rapier rattling against the scabbard as he slides the blade home."Is that all it is...Ha." Ioben brushed his coat off and returned back to the others. As the dwarf and the 'armour?' talk about weapons and tracking down leads, he picks up his gear and slings it over his back. slowly he scans the area to make sure nothing has been left behind and does his best to mask the evidence of their having been there.
”Whether for ill or good the path seems to be forward, I suggest we stick together we don’t know what there is out there,” he says looking at the ground he passes by.
"Right. So we move together then? That makes sense. Until I know where I am, there is security in numbers." Ioben prepares to move, knowing that if they are to get anywhere they will need to find someone local who can guide them, so he plans to keep an eye out for any signs of habitation - smoke, wagon tracks, pathways from the road, campsites - that might help them find people.
As the assembled group prepare to take their first steps through the gates into the land of Barovia they cannot help but feel a sense of foreboding - as if the Land itself is unwelcoming of their arrival. Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the muddy roadway. Giant trees loom on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mist.
DM Rolls:
6, 20
FURTHER DM Rolls:
9 + 8
2
Please can I have a marching order as you traverse your way down the Old Svalich Road . The road is wide enough to fit 2 abreast and continues as far as you all can see in a single direction (no forks).
Sandu ducked when the colony of bats flew overhead. He was not afraid of bats but then again, the amount of flying rodents he had encountered in his life so far usually amounted to one or two lost among the rafters of a barn. And those tended to have the decency to stay out of the way.
Glancing back up, Sandu noticed his knuckles turning white from the death grip he had on his staff. He took a couple of deep breaths to relax and calm his nerves. He then scooted a bit closer to the woman, the one named Valerie, who introduced herself as a paladin. Sandu would not call himself a religious man nor would he admit to any superstition but staying close to one with divine conviction seemed like a sound decision during this troubling times.
'Look, if it means we can get out of these woods, I'm all for it.' Sandu said from behind Valerie's shoulder. 'I'd rather spend my time inside four walls and a roof than out here in the cold.'
As the assembled group prepare to take their first steps through the gates into the land of Barovia they cannot help but feel a sense of foreboding - as if the Land itself is unwelcoming of their arrival. Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the muddy roadway. Giant trees loom on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mist.
Sandu regretted not packing any torches as he pulled his cloak tighter around him to shield himself from the elements. His hand brushed over the letter tucked away in his pocket, a reminder that he should read it sooner rather than later.
OOC: always fun when the DM starts rolling mystery dice.
EDIT Marching order: behind Valerie, preferably in the middle.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
((OOC: Especially when they roll a NAT 20? In terms of marching order a simple front / middle / rear of the group will suffice. There might be an encounter at some point.))
Dormark Survival Check for medical herbs along the way: 16
Dormark Survival Results:
Dormark, as you are traversing the path you catch site of a variety of identifiable plant-life; predominantly nettles, thistles, nothing of use. Then something catches your eye - a small red mushroom with white specks. You recall this type of mushroom has medicinal properties and are known as red amanita mushrooms. With the proper herbalism tools these may be harvested.
As the others move toward the gate, Ioben hangs back a little behind the others - about 20 ft, with his shortbow ready. Uneasily, he scans the woods around them, occasionally glancing behind. Fortunately he did not need much light to see, as long as this mist didn't get too much thicker. That would make it easier for him to slip off into the shadows as needed.
A visibly nervous Baern tries to stick to the middle of the group. The young dwarf looks muscular but otherwise is not as well equipped as the others. He comments "you all look like experienced fighters." "I'm just a stone mason, although my brothers are in the clan's shield battalion and have trained me a little so I can join next year too. I'll do my best if we find trouble."
Following the lead of the others, Baern draws his hand axe and seems to be gripping a small pendant on a thin chain in the other hand.
Alder says nothing, merely murmuring under his breath in unintelligible noises as he moves to the front of the group, his heavy frame easy to follow as he pulls a torch from his weathered bag and sets it alight.
(Better post later after work)
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Looking at the people that she has just met, Valerie is not sure what to think of them. Should she trust them? Are they foe or allies? She needs time to get to know them better.
"Very well." She turns to Ioben. "I shall go with you to Strahd. I also have some question for this person." She pauses for a moment. "Hmm. If it is as you said that we currently are in Barovia. Do you think we can find a person name Ismark Kolyanovich?"
"The problem is, I have no idea where Strahd is. I would get moving but..." Ioben indicates to the final person asleep on the ground. "Strength in numbers you know. How do you know that name? Ismark Kolyanovich?"
"I think he may have included it in all the letters he sent to us. Stradh told me to seek this person out as well," says Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Slowly, he stirs. The rough, patched fabric of his long coat scratches against the dirt and rock beneath softly. The dreadfully familiar and hauntingly desirable taste of old alcohol slicks his tongue and throat with foul taste, and there is a soft grunt as it stirs him to wakefulness. But it is the voices that catch his attention and spring him to alertness, his eyes narrowed and body unmoving where it lay stretched more than six and a half feet along the ground. Too many times he has woken to find himself surrounded by thieves or worse, desperate and evil people who sought to take advantage of an unconscious wanderer. Too many times those men and women did not survive long enough to know their folly.
Yet this is different. These voices are softer, curious, lacking the sharp tinge of villains gathering around prey. There is... confusion among them. Uncertainty. After a second they raise no alarm within him, no fear. Slowly he pushes himself to his knees, blinking against the fog at those figures nearby only for his attention to be caught by the soft clink of a pouch dropping to the ground next to him, rolling out from inside his coat. Eyes narrowed, he picks up the bag in one massive hand, feeling the recognizable yet too rare feel of coin within the small leather bag. In the next second it vanishes within his coat as he brings up the small letter that was with it. His face is not difficult to read as concentration overtakes him for a moment as he struggles with the words. Soon enough he shakes his head and slips the note away as he did the coin purse, rising to his feet.
The cool mist slides over his stubbled face and head, heavy features muted in the dim light as surely as the shapeless form of his coat obscures the details of his noticeably ox-like frame. One hand reaches down and picks up the bag that had been lying next to him, a weatherworn and beaten thing that he carelessly slings over his left shoulder, his eyes now drifting from one stranger before him to the next. The decision is easy, for now. They are all strangers here, all travelers without knowledge or purpose other than to seek answers. For now, it was more purpose than he had seen in years.
"My name is Alder, and I am as lost as you. Lead, and I shall follow."
'Yeah, well...' Sandu started, 'Where I'm from, armour doesn't talk. Or walk around. Or... do anything other than being worn.'
He rubbed his temples as an headache came on. This all felt like some sort of joke: dump a bunch of strangers out in the woods, give them some cryptic clue and hope they don't completely turn on each other. Sounded like a hobby for an aristocrat with too much time and money. Strahd von Zarovich... The name sounded familiar despite it being the first time Sandu heard the name in his life.
He turned towards the others, who by now numbered five total. 'So some unknown person dumps you in his backyard without consent or whatnot for shits and giggles and your first instinct is to go find this guy? You're all mad!' He clutched his staff to steady himself as he slid his letter into a coat pocket. 'Name's Sandu by the way. Just Sandu.'
Sandu glanced at the dwarf. 'You related to this Stradh figure?' He asked incredulously.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Just as Sandu finishes his question a great din echoes out over the land. This is immediately followed by a slow, CREEEAAAKING sound as the mighty gates begin to slowly open.
A strange black cloud seems to emerge from the other side of the gates. As it approaches the groups location there is a realisation that the 'cloud' is not what it appears but rather swarms of tiny bats, their wings flapping furiously. The swarm flies directly at the group before, last moment, taking a swift up turn and dispersing into the night.
In their wake, the land is once again quiet, eerily so. The path before you is clear and the gates are now open.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Alder shrugs at the one called Sandu and opens his mouth as if to speak, only to freeze as the sound interrupts him. His body tenses, his free hand curling into a fist and his weight shifting. There is a fleeting look of anticipation on his face as the gate begins to creak open, only to be replaced by confusion as the swarm pours through and wheels off into the night. He watches after them a moment before looking back to Sandu, shrugging once more.
"This seems a strange place. Makes sense to look for answers in the only clue we have been given."
Valerie ducks down to avoid the swamp of bat charging through her. She then takes out her sword and get near the gate. "There is no point waiting here. We don't know where we are, and why we are here. All we've got are these two names. We shall move forward and look for people who might have answers for us."
Despite his fear Baern tries to keep his feet planted as the bat swarm approaches, but can't help but shield his face just before they turn to the sky.
In response to Sandu's question about the 'son' reference Baern simply replies "no" with confidence, adding "I knew all me kin back two generations, and Strahd Von Zarovich is no proper dwarf name, I know that much!"
Bearn assumes no one else was referred to as 'son' or anything else of the sort in their letters, or at least no one wants to speak of it.
Agreeing to move forward with the others in search of answers, Baern collects his things and stows away Strahd's coin and letter. "If we're to venture into this strange place, I could use some proper armor and a good weapon." The party can see him with one hand on a handaxe at his hip, and dressed in not much more than traveler's cloths. "Got robbed of my gear a few days back."
(Because I started with a level as sorcerer, Baern doesn't get much for martial starting gear. As a dwarf he could don some armor though, and with the next cleric level he'll be fully able to wear plate and shield, so he's just particularly vulnerable right now in the short term.)
As the swarm of bats rush past him Dormark had no reaction to them, and as they past he says, “Well looks like the way is foreword. Does anybody got a lantern or something? Dwarves forgot to give me night vision when they made me.”
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Baern is studying his note again, confused. Hearing Dormark again he snaps out of it and says "oh, ah, will a torch do?" He's happy to offer one to this interesting new... thing.
Nodding his head in appreciation Domark says, “Thank you I’ll help you get your armor situated, later.”
Grabbing his tinder box he quickly gets a flame started on the torch and begins to walk towards the gates.”Whether for ill or good the path seems to be forward, I suggest we stick together we don’t know what there is out there,” he says looking at the ground he passes by.
(Dormark is looking for herbs that could be useful for medicine particularly healing potions. Since I’m posting from my phone, could roll for me dm? He’ll use whatever check you deem appropriate under the influence of guidance so add a d4 to the roll.)
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
((Dormark - you would require a Herbalism Kit and time to harvest herbs. Please see post below.))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Ioben turns toward the sound of the opening gates and scrambles back as the cloud rushes through the ever-growing maw leading into the unknown lands beyond. grabbing for his rapier, he looks for cover, wondering what he can do against a cloud. As he hurries toward a nearby tree, the first bat becomes visible and banks sharply, leaving Ioben surprised, and panting for breath.
"Oh, just bats," he says. The rapier rattling against the scabbard as he slides the blade home. "Is that all it is...Ha." Ioben brushed his coat off and returned back to the others. As the dwarf and the 'armour?' talk about weapons and tracking down leads, he picks up his gear and slings it over his back. slowly he scans the area to make sure nothing has been left behind and does his best to mask the evidence of their having been there.
"Right. So we move together then? That makes sense. Until I know where I am, there is security in numbers." Ioben prepares to move, knowing that if they are to get anywhere they will need to find someone local who can guide them, so he plans to keep an eye out for any signs of habitation - smoke, wagon tracks, pathways from the road, campsites - that might help them find people.
As the assembled group prepare to take their first steps through the gates into the land of Barovia they cannot help but feel a sense of foreboding - as if the Land itself is unwelcoming of their arrival. Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the muddy roadway. Giant trees loom on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mist.
DM Rolls:
6, 20
FURTHER DM Rolls:
9 + 8
2
Please can I have a marching order as you traverse your way down the Old Svalich Road . The road is wide enough to fit 2 abreast and continues as far as you all can see in a single direction (no forks).
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Sandu ducked when the colony of bats flew overhead. He was not afraid of bats but then again, the amount of flying rodents he had encountered in his life so far usually amounted to one or two lost among the rafters of a barn. And those tended to have the decency to stay out of the way.
Glancing back up, Sandu noticed his knuckles turning white from the death grip he had on his staff. He took a couple of deep breaths to relax and calm his nerves. He then scooted a bit closer to the woman, the one named Valerie, who introduced herself as a paladin. Sandu would not call himself a religious man nor would he admit to any superstition but staying close to one with divine conviction seemed like a sound decision during this troubling times.
'Look, if it means we can get out of these woods, I'm all for it.' Sandu said from behind Valerie's shoulder. 'I'd rather spend my time inside four walls and a roof than out here in the cold.'
Sandu regretted not packing any torches as he pulled his cloak tighter around him to shield himself from the elements. His hand brushed over the letter tucked away in his pocket, a reminder that he should read it sooner rather than later.
OOC: always fun when the DM starts rolling mystery dice.
EDIT
Marching order: behind Valerie, preferably in the middle.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
((OOC: Especially when they roll a NAT 20? In terms of marching order a simple front / middle / rear of the group will suffice. There might be an encounter at some point.))
Dormark Survival Check for medical herbs along the way: 16
Dormark Survival Results:
Dormark, as you are traversing the path you catch site of a variety of identifiable plant-life; predominantly nettles, thistles, nothing of use. Then something catches your eye - a small red mushroom with white specks. You recall this type of mushroom has medicinal properties and are known as red amanita mushrooms. With the proper herbalism tools these may be harvested.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
As the others move toward the gate, Ioben hangs back a little behind the others - about 20 ft, with his shortbow ready. Uneasily, he scans the woods around them, occasionally glancing behind. Fortunately he did not need much light to see, as long as this mist didn't get too much thicker. That would make it easier for him to slip off into the shadows as needed.
A visibly nervous Baern tries to stick to the middle of the group. The young dwarf looks muscular but otherwise is not as well equipped as the others. He comments "you all look like experienced fighters." "I'm just a stone mason, although my brothers are in the clan's shield battalion and have trained me a little so I can join next year too. I'll do my best if we find trouble."
Following the lead of the others, Baern draws his hand axe and seems to be gripping a small pendant on a thin chain in the other hand.
Alder says nothing, merely murmuring under his breath in unintelligible noises as he moves to the front of the group, his heavy frame easy to follow as he pulls a torch from his weathered bag and sets it alight.
(Better post later after work)