Ed kneels with the Father, clasping his hands around those of the sobbing man. "We shall try brother Donavich, though sometimes people are beyond salvation... Let us attend to that prayer." He bows his head down to their hands and whispers a prayer that would be only faintly audible to any but Donavich...
"Lord of light, heed the words of your faithful, of Edlanar and Donavich. Temper us for the times to come, where we act as the shield to make us strong and unbending, where we play the blade show us that it is just and true. Morninglord, with each dawn, may your light shed fresh thoughts and renewed faith for the difficulties that lie in our paths. Help us tread inthe steps of your will and see your guidance when we are lost. Take care of Doru, that he may be absolved of his affliction. Amen"
Ed stands but makes no effort to help the preacher up. At Ismark's beckoning, Ed turns and smiles, "What is the rush Ismark? The morning has broken true, and thought our day started with grim duty, I am sure thing will prove bright enough."
At Alessa and Ismark's certainty of what transpired, Zied didn't feel as such. Yet, he had no reason to go against the assumption either. Briefly pondering and starting to state "If such a high lord were to come..." wanting to continue at how unlikely such would hide in the mud, much less would one compe pay respects to one they caused the death of. - Unless they did not infact do so, and it was simply. A Death. But drops it as they overhear the Father, Ed and Seszu,
~_~_~present~_~_~
"Ismark believes what Alessa grasped on her periphery was an unkind subject, and it warrants hazards and worries...."
Zied also listens for the Vampiric? Son, what he wails-if he still wails.
Doru's screams cover the same subject matter you heard before. "...I'm so hungry, father!...please, I'll be good!...why are you trying to kill me!?...please!"
"The morning is as bleak as any," Ismark says grimly. "Zied may be right. If what Alessa saw, if it even might be. We should return to the safety of the house. We can stop for some supplies. We should find Granny, and we can stop at Bildrath's."
Ismark leads you south, back toward town square. Indeed, the morning is as glum and dreary as the day before. What sun manages to bleed through the heavy cloud cover reveals the hues of brown and gray so characteristic of the region.
At the square he stops before a building. Sparse light spills out from behind drawn heavy curtains. A sign over the door, creaking on its hinges, reads “Bildrath’s Mercantile.”
"Morning, Ismark," a gruff, heavy-set man with jowls rumbles from behind a counter. The store is stocked with all manner of basic supplies and gear, though the prices are, to say the least, shocking. "I hear about burgomaster. Awful news, just awful. Ah, but I see you have fresh meat!" He eyes the newcomers. "Prices listed on shelf. No haggling. But say, if you are looking to earn coin, I am missing shipment of clothes from Vallaki. The wagon was spotted not too far from town a few days ago, near River Ivlis bridge. You bring me shipment, I'll give you a fine discount."
(Bildrath's sells items from the Adventuring Gear table in the Player’s Handbook, but only items with a price lower than 25 gp in the table, and he sells them for ten times the price.)
As Doru's screams can be heard fading into the distance as they walk away Ed leans his head towards Sezsu, "I fear that we shall struggle to turn Donavich from his stance."
Upon entering the store, Ed picks up a few things and is rendered momentarily speechless at the prices listed. "Sir, I have found that haggling always ends badly when the other party is a thief. These prices are frankly preposterous, I've spent much time amongst those with nothing and it is behaviour like this that keeps them so." Ed replaces the items and turns to walk away.
"I am sure you did all you could," assured Alessa when Edand Sezsu emerged from the church. "And your prayer was truly beautiful."If only beauty could really heal...
In the store, Alessa was as shocked as everyone else. The prices were incredibly high and mostly unaffordable. Alessa did not need anything for herself (at least for now) and there was Ismark who probably had some old weapons? Maybe? But if not and if they were stuck here... Seemed like they would have to accept it as a reality. The shop somehow existed and very local Ismark himself seemed to find everything in order. "Do you mean to say that villagers can afford these prices? How interesting. But tell us more about that lost wagon... Since no one went looking for it, am I right to assume the task is dangerous?"
The proprietor shrugs. "My customers are Vistani, mostly, who have items to trade. Everyone else, if they want it bad enough, they will pay."
You notice that, like Ismark and Donavich, the storekeep's flesh is as white as bleached paper.
(Alessa: But tell us more about that lost wagon... Since no one went looking for it, am I right to assume the task is dangerous?"),
"Ah, Ismark, I thought the meat is fresh, but not this fresh. You must not be familiar with Barovia. Here, all things are dangerous. The wagon was last seen just west of the river, heading east toward us. That is all I know. That, and the loss of good cloth!"
Ismark selects a few items as if all of this is old news, purchasing a sack of nails and some candles. "Bildrath, is no way to talk to guests. Outsiders, even!" He shakes his head and turns back to the group members who remain inside. "That is all I need. Is there something that you are in great need of? It is the least I can do to thank you for your help."
“But we, Edlanar Holbrook! We are the lantern! The Morning Lord has given us, we servants of a GREATER power, as you have so eloquently and astutely put it, have been blessed with the faculties and the means to shine His light in even the darkest of places! To guide those who have fallen unto shadow back into the light of His grace!”
Sezsu stands back a pace from the sun worshipers, with arms crossed, and interjects, "As one who's spent their fair share of time in shadow (and largely prefers it, if we're speaking literally), forcing someone into the light usually does more harm than good." He smirks slightly and quietly says to himself, "I guess I'm back to metaphor after all..."
As Doru's screams can be heard fading into the distance as they walk away Ed leans his head towards Sezsu, "I fear that we shall struggle to turn Donavich from his stance."
"My intent wasn't to change his mind... But your effort, heavy-handed though it may be, is much appreciated, brother," he responds wryly.
Ed continues out the shop, his parting words to Ismark, "Nothing so desperately as I'd ask for it here."
At this, Sezsu ineffectively stifles a bark of laughter and quickly tries to cover it up with a throat-clearing cough as he holds up a hand to indicate that he's fine and no one should be concerned.
"Prices listed on shelf. No haggling. But say, if you are looking to earn coin, I am missing shipment of clothes from Vallaki. The wagon was spotted not too far from town a few days ago, near River Ivlis bridge. You bring me shipment, I'll give you a fine discount."
A well-groomed eyebrow arches and the young cleric regards the merchant.
"I guess 'fresh blood' around here always seems to find itself similarly afflicted with a sudden lack of necessities. They always show up looking for work and discounts? You have no one else to run your errands, then. If we hadn't shown up, would you have just written off the shipment? It seems like some provisions for the undertaking wouldn't be out of the question..."
Bildrath snorts. "I have nothing for you unless you have coin or trade. This is business, not charity! If you have neither, we have no business. Good day." He turns his gaze down toward an inventory list and begins checking boxes furiously, his quill scratching in quick succession.
Ismark nods toward the door. "Now is not the time. Come, we must hurry. Let's find Granny."
Back on the street, a few villagers have appeared. They seem to have absorbed the muted hues into their very clothes and skin, clad in grays and browns, with flesh a sour white. Some even appear gray, their eyes dull and nearly lifeless. In comparison, even Ismark appears vivacious. "There is Granny, by the inn!" He picks up his pace and trots down the street.
A single shaft of light thrusts illumination into the main square, its brightness looking like a solid pillar in the heavy fog. Above the gaping doorway, a sign hangs precariously askew, proclaiming this to be the Blood on the Vine tavern.
"Pies, fresh pies!" calls a familiar, trembling voice. Granny's cart, loaded with fresh pies, is parked nearby, and the old woman herself stands, ringing a little bell periodically. The smell is delicious. "Young folk," she calls with a wink. "I see you survived the night. That's good! Now you can help an old woman loose her cart from the mud. Mayhap there's breakfast in it for you, hmm?" Indeed, you can see that the wheels of the cart are several inches deep in a wet, muddy part of the road. Granny's shoes and socks are likewise muddy, no doubt in her efforts to push it out.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Zied simply shrugs at the cart situation, seeing no reason not to help. He will move to the front and try lifting up when one of his cohorts attempts to lift from the back. Lifting up and out being more efficient than simply pushing as the old woman has. Internally, he makes a note to try and ask Ismark later where the Pies come from. Given the expenses of the shop, as well as the general quandry of this area. The pie sourcing feels strangely consistant and given rather under cost at least two days in a row.
"We did not say we refuse to help," politely noted Alessa, but it seemed right now it was really not the best time to discuss the terms. She walked after less patient with scumming friends. "Vistani are the main clientele... Perhaps it is time for us to meet them. And find that Madam Eva too. If they can give us as much as an explanation, I, personally, would already feel better."
Grey shadows for the villagers did not improve the general mood either. How long until the group would begin to "loos colours", so to speak? Even the white skin looked sickly but that shade... It's like people were drained of very life. The thought was frightening and the Granny's voice, chasing everything but the simple hunger away, very welcomed. Alessa thought she was way too agitated to eat but the smell from the cart was still very delicious and she smiled to the old woman. "Good morning, Granny, glad to see you in a good health too."Should her servant still be around (she could call it again if needed), it would join the attempts to free the cart from the mud.
As the group leave the bandit camp merchant's store, Ed turns on them, "I am of a mind to go looking for things that may have been lost and remain unclaimed, and then sell the goods back to our 'neighbourly' merchant at suitably exorbitant rates. Such behaviours is demeaning of the trade!..." He stops his tirade and sniffs the air, "Is that... pie.. I smell?"
He follows along as the group head over to the old woman's stall. "Ah, I find that I am feeling quite famished, and have a sour taste left in my mouth from the store. Both I think would be resolved by a pie." At the offer of food for a bit of light lifting, Ed squats low, braces his back against the cart and grips the underside in his fingertips. With his best effort, he pushes up with his legs and leans to drive the cart forwards.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Smiling at the warmth of granny's salutation and the smell of fresh pie, Sezsu perks up after such an off-putting interaction. He grimaces at the thought of getting his clothes dirty but quickly glances around the immediate area to find some scrap wood, branches, or rocks. Anything that could either form a crude lever or ramp/platform to help the wheels gain traction or at least keep them from sinking back into the mud once freed.
"I don't know how or why, but your pies seem to be the only source of warmth and joy on this bleak morning, Granny."
Watching Ed grunt and strain, Sezsu grins and says "You've got this!" as he smacks the paladin on the rump and casts guidance: +2 (plus I think Z was giving him advantage)
With a great effort Ed, Zied, Sezsu, and Alessa's servant manage to dislodge the wagon and reposition its wheels to gain traction.
"Wonderful," says Granny, nodding her head toward the inn. "I'm sure Arik is tired of hearing about my wares by now. But it isn't like I'm impressed by the exact same wine and potato soup he's put out every day this month. Oh, don't mind me, dears, just a little business rivalry. Poor Arik can't help his food tastes of dirt. Oh, and speaking of, can I give you a nice pie for helping me? I've got a hearty meat and turnip, or a nice pumpkin with sage?"
Ismark produces several gold coins. "We are happy to pay, Granny. Three of each. Truly, today I know we are especially grateful for the food you provide." Granny tuts, throwing a sympathetic look Ismark's way, seeming to understand. "Well, you just take care of yourself, young man. This village needs you, you know." She collects the coins and stacks the pies in the hands of any who offer to carry them. "Well, younglings, I'm off. Take care of yourselves, too. Barovia isn't an easy place to make a go of it. We need more hearty folk such as yourselves." She winks at Alessa, then hauls up her cart and begins to drag it forward, the muddy wheels creaking as she goes. "Pies, fresh pies!"
Ismark gives her a little wave, but then seems to remember himself. "Right," he says. "Back to the house."
The heavy fog that had rolled in continues its slow crawl south through town, and soon it's difficult to see more than a few yards in front of you. The day proves to be continually overcast, making the burgomaster's mansion even more glum that it was the day before.
Once inside, Ismark has you lay the pies out on the dining table and fetches a bottle of wine. "Please, eat!" He immediately sets to work, nailing up the front door and any other gaps in the windows that he finds.
"Now when your father's body is properly buried, do you still think the monsters can attack?" Alessa chose the pumpkin pie and took a piece. "Truly good, And probably worth all the money asked for it." She pinched a small piece of crust and paused savouring the taste. "We had a visitor today during the ceremony." Informed she Ed and Sezsu who were busy during investigation talking with Father Donovich about his son. "Ismark suspects the worse. I can be that we already attracted the attention of the devil." With every mentioning it was easier and easier to call the Master of the Land like this. "I am convinced more than ever we need to talk to Vistani as soon as possible. Too many things are bound to them. Not to mention, if they found us in our town, they should know the way home." She looked towards the window. It was shut and barricaded, but she remembered the mist outside and winced. "Not sure, though, we can find them - or anything - in this mist. I think you told us where to find them, Ismark, but can not remember. Which way would it be?"
Ismark takes a break from his carpentry. Beaded with sweat, his hair plastered to his pale forehead, he sighs heavily and drags a sleeve over his brow. Sitting down beside Alessa, he helps himself to a piece of the meat and turnip pie. He smiles, also savoring the taste. “What is secret of crust? So flaky, yet tender! Granny and her daughters are very talented cooks.” He sips some wine, the same watery vintage served yesterday, Purple Grapemash No. 3.
He stands and moves about the room, lighting several candles to aid the poor light struggling through the cracks in the window boards. He listens intently to Alessa’s points and allows her to finish her thoughts before responding. “The monsters can attack anytime they wish, I suppose. Why they attacked this house, why they stopped after father died, why the… person you saw appeared at funeral, I cannot say. But it makes me ill at ease.”
“The Vistani may be found all through the wilderness, but they are said to have a permanent camp east of here. About a full day’s journey walking on Old Svalich Road, the main road west. Past the River Ivlis Bridge, where Bildrath thinks his lost wagon is found, there is road that runs northwest to lake called Tser Pool. There they might be found. You can also reach Tser Pool by traveling up River Ivlis, but I cannot suggest you leave main road!”
"I saw the stranger at the graveyard but I assumed there were plenty in town who would want to pay their respects to the burgomaster and didn't think too much of it," Sezsu says offhandedly around a mouthful of meat and turnip pie. He casually picks the first vegetable he finds out of his mouth and sets it on the table with a look of disgust. "Why do you both think their presence bodes ill?"
After hearing the directions, he asks, "If the Vistani can travel back and forth, why have all 'visitors' ended up trapped here? Are you certain they can be trusted?"
Ed politely waits until everyone has had at least one slice of pie, excepting Zied, before grabbing a gealthy slice of each and tucking into them with a similar vigor to the breakfast earlier that day. "Well, perhaps if we take the main road past the bridge we can spy out that disowned cargo and return it to the Vistani. That might put us in a more favourable position to enquire whether they have the means to return us whence we came. Though it would seem poor form bot to offer us our return regardless... In due course that is. I would like to try and do something for these folks vefore we abandon them and return to our own lands."
Ismark nestles back in his chair and pats his belly "Because the person was there, and then gone. And Alessa was not seeing figments. A single pair of boot marks in the mud confirmed it. I ask you, what sort of man can be present without arriving, and be gone without departing? Us Barovians know of such tricks. Such is the way of the..." He swallows thickly. "...the vampire."
"As for the Vistani, ah..." Ismark shrugs helplessly. "They have powers that only they understand. Some have power to move through the mist. Why or how is up to them, it seems. Their ways are mysterious, and they do not share them with Barovians. They say that Vistani curses are powerful, so anger them at your peril."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
“Shh!” Ismark says abruptly, leaping to his feet. “What was that?”
A gentle tap-tap-tap comes from the dining room window.
Ismark grabs an empty candelabra from a side table and cautiously approaches, crouching down to peer between the window’s boards. The tapping continues uninterrupted.
After what feels like an hour, he stands up, chuckling. “Ah, my nerves! Is only tree! Perhaps I have too much wine. You must think--”
Crash
The sound comes from across the hall, from a spare bedroom.
In a flash Ismark races through the dining room, dropping his candelabra, and toward the front hall. “My crossbow! Is near door!”
From somewhere down the hall, a gurgling moan is heard. A form lurches into view, dragging one foot as it raises bloated arms and broken hands. The creature advances, driven to kill anyone too slow to escape its grasp.
GM:
Alessa initiative: 18
Edlanar initiative: 16
Sezsu initiative (advantage): Unable to parse dice roll.
Ed kneels with the Father, clasping his hands around those of the sobbing man. "We shall try brother Donavich, though sometimes people are beyond salvation... Let us attend to that prayer." He bows his head down to their hands and whispers a prayer that would be only faintly audible to any but Donavich...
"Lord of light, heed the words of your faithful, of Edlanar and Donavich. Temper us for the times to come, where we act as the shield to make us strong and unbending, where we play the blade show us that it is just and true. Morninglord, with each dawn, may your light shed fresh thoughts and renewed faith for the difficulties that lie in our paths. Help us tread inthe steps of your will and see your guidance when we are lost. Take care of Doru, that he may be absolved of his affliction. Amen"
Ed stands but makes no effort to help the preacher up. At Ismark's beckoning, Ed turns and smiles, "What is the rush Ismark? The morning has broken true, and thought our day started with grim duty, I am sure thing will prove bright enough."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
~_~_~Time jump backwards slightly~_~_~
At Alessa and Ismark's certainty of what transpired, Zied didn't feel as such. Yet, he had no reason to go against the assumption either. Briefly pondering and starting to state "If such a high lord were to come..." wanting to continue at how unlikely such would hide in the mud, much less would one compe pay respects to one they caused the death of. - Unless they did not infact do so, and it was simply. A Death.
But drops it as they overhear the Father, Ed and Seszu,
~_~_~present~_~_~
"Ismark believes what Alessa grasped on her periphery was an unkind subject, and it warrants hazards and worries...."
Zied also listens for the Vampiric? Son, what he wails-if he still wails.
Doru's screams cover the same subject matter you heard before. "...I'm so hungry, father!...please, I'll be good!...why are you trying to kill me!?...please!"
"The morning is as bleak as any," Ismark says grimly. "Zied may be right. If what Alessa saw, if it even might be. We should return to the safety of the house. We can stop for some supplies. We should find Granny, and we can stop at Bildrath's."
Ismark leads you south, back toward town square. Indeed, the morning is as glum and dreary as the day before. What sun manages to bleed through the heavy cloud cover reveals the hues of brown and gray so characteristic of the region.
At the square he stops before a building. Sparse light spills out from behind drawn heavy curtains. A sign over the door, creaking on its hinges, reads “Bildrath’s Mercantile.”
"Morning, Ismark," a gruff, heavy-set man with jowls rumbles from behind a counter. The store is stocked with all manner of basic supplies and gear, though the prices are, to say the least, shocking. "I hear about burgomaster. Awful news, just awful. Ah, but I see you have fresh meat!" He eyes the newcomers. "Prices listed on shelf. No haggling. But say, if you are looking to earn coin, I am missing shipment of clothes from Vallaki. The wagon was spotted not too far from town a few days ago, near River Ivlis bridge. You bring me shipment, I'll give you a fine discount."
(Bildrath's sells items from the Adventuring Gear table in the Player’s Handbook, but only items with a price lower than 25 gp in the table, and he sells them for ten times the price.)
As Doru's screams can be heard fading into the distance as they walk away Ed leans his head towards Sezsu, "I fear that we shall struggle to turn Donavich from his stance."
Upon entering the store, Ed picks up a few things and is rendered momentarily speechless at the prices listed. "Sir, I have found that haggling always ends badly when the other party is a thief. These prices are frankly preposterous, I've spent much time amongst those with nothing and it is behaviour like this that keeps them so." Ed replaces the items and turns to walk away.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"I am sure you did all you could," assured Alessa when Edand Sezsu emerged from the church. "And your prayer was truly beautiful." If only beauty could really heal...
In the store, Alessa was as shocked as everyone else. The prices were incredibly high and mostly unaffordable. Alessa did not need anything for herself (at least for now) and there was Ismark who probably had some old weapons? Maybe? But if not and if they were stuck here... Seemed like they would have to accept it as a reality. The shop somehow existed and very local Ismark himself seemed to find everything in order. "Do you mean to say that villagers can afford these prices? How interesting. But tell us more about that lost wagon... Since no one went looking for it, am I right to assume the task is dangerous?"
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
The proprietor shrugs. "My customers are Vistani, mostly, who have items to trade. Everyone else, if they want it bad enough, they will pay."
You notice that, like Ismark and Donavich, the storekeep's flesh is as white as bleached paper.
(Alessa: But tell us more about that lost wagon... Since no one went looking for it, am I right to assume the task is dangerous?"),
"Ah, Ismark, I thought the meat is fresh, but not this fresh. You must not be familiar with Barovia. Here, all things are dangerous. The wagon was last seen just west of the river, heading east toward us. That is all I know. That, and the loss of good cloth!"
Ismark selects a few items as if all of this is old news, purchasing a sack of nails and some candles. "Bildrath, is no way to talk to guests. Outsiders, even!" He shakes his head and turns back to the group members who remain inside. "That is all I need. Is there something that you are in great need of? It is the least I can do to thank you for your help."
Ed continues out the shop, his parting words to Ismark, "Nothing so desperately as I'd ask for it here."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
(Rewinding a bit to insert some reactions.)
Sezsu stands back a pace from the sun worshipers, with arms crossed, and interjects, "As one who's spent their fair share of time in shadow (and largely prefers it, if we're speaking literally), forcing someone into the light usually does more harm than good." He smirks slightly and quietly says to himself, "I guess I'm back to metaphor after all..."
"My intent wasn't to change his mind... But your effort, heavy-handed though it may be, is much appreciated, brother," he responds wryly.
At this, Sezsu ineffectively stifles a bark of laughter and quickly tries to cover it up with a throat-clearing cough as he holds up a hand to indicate that he's fine and no one should be concerned.
A well-groomed eyebrow arches and the young cleric regards the merchant.
"I guess 'fresh blood' around here always seems to find itself similarly afflicted with a sudden lack of necessities. They always show up looking for work and discounts? You have no one else to run your errands, then. If we hadn't shown up, would you have just written off the shipment? It seems like some provisions for the undertaking wouldn't be out of the question..."
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Bildrath snorts. "I have nothing for you unless you have coin or trade. This is business, not charity! If you have neither, we have no business. Good day." He turns his gaze down toward an inventory list and begins checking boxes furiously, his quill scratching in quick succession.
Ismark nods toward the door. "Now is not the time. Come, we must hurry. Let's find Granny."
Back on the street, a few villagers have appeared. They seem to have absorbed the muted hues into their very clothes and skin, clad in grays and browns, with flesh a sour white. Some even appear gray, their eyes dull and nearly lifeless. In comparison, even Ismark appears vivacious. "There is Granny, by the inn!" He picks up his pace and trots down the street.
A single shaft of light thrusts illumination into the main square, its brightness looking like a solid pillar in the heavy fog. Above the gaping doorway, a sign hangs precariously askew, proclaiming this to be the Blood on the Vine tavern.
"Pies, fresh pies!" calls a familiar, trembling voice. Granny's cart, loaded with fresh pies, is parked nearby, and the old woman herself stands, ringing a little bell periodically. The smell is delicious. "Young folk," she calls with a wink. "I see you survived the night. That's good! Now you can help an old woman loose her cart from the mud. Mayhap there's breakfast in it for you, hmm?" Indeed, you can see that the wheels of the cart are several inches deep in a wet, muddy part of the road. Granny's shoes and socks are likewise muddy, no doubt in her efforts to push it out.
Zied simply shrugs at the cart situation, seeing no reason not to help. He will move to the front and try lifting up when one of his cohorts attempts to lift from the back. Lifting up and out being more efficient than simply pushing as the old woman has. Internally, he makes a note to try and ask Ismark later where the Pies come from. Given the expenses of the shop, as well as the general quandry of this area. The pie sourcing feels strangely consistant and given rather under cost at least two days in a row.
Preference to giving someone else adv on str but
4+2
if a Str roll is required.
"We did not say we refuse to help," politely noted Alessa, but it seemed right now it was really not the best time to discuss the terms. She walked after less patient with scumming friends. "Vistani are the main clientele... Perhaps it is time for us to meet them. And find that Madam Eva too. If they can give us as much as an explanation, I, personally, would already feel better."
Grey shadows for the villagers did not improve the general mood either. How long until the group would begin to "loos colours", so to speak? Even the white skin looked sickly but that shade... It's like people were drained of very life. The thought was frightening and the Granny's voice, chasing everything but the simple hunger away, very welcomed. Alessa thought she was way too agitated to eat but the smell from the cart was still very delicious and she smiled to the old woman. "Good morning, Granny, glad to see you in a good health too." Should her servant still be around (she could call it again if needed), it would join the attempts to free the cart from the mud.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
As the group leave the
bandit campmerchant's store, Ed turns on them, "I am of a mind to go looking for things that may have been lost and remain unclaimed, and then sell the goods back to our 'neighbourly' merchant at suitably exorbitant rates. Such behaviours is demeaning of the trade!..." He stops his tirade and sniffs the air, "Is that... pie.. I smell?"He follows along as the group head over to the old woman's stall. "Ah, I find that I am feeling quite famished, and have a sour taste left in my mouth from the store. Both I think would be resolved by a pie." At the offer of food for a bit of light lifting, Ed squats low, braces his back against the cart and grips the underside in his fingertips. With his best effort, he pushes up with his legs and leans to drive the cart forwards.
[Ability]Strength[/ability] / Athletics:18
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Smiling at the warmth of granny's salutation and the smell of fresh pie, Sezsu perks up after such an off-putting interaction. He grimaces at the thought of getting his clothes dirty but quickly glances around the immediate area to find some scrap wood, branches, or rocks. Anything that could either form a crude lever or ramp/platform to help the wheels gain traction or at least keep them from sinking back into the mud once freed.
"I don't know how or why, but your pies seem to be the only source of warmth and joy on this bleak morning, Granny."
Watching Ed grunt and strain, Sezsu grins and says "You've got this!" as he smacks the paladin on the rump and casts guidance: +2 (plus I think Z was giving him advantage)
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With a great effort Ed, Zied, Sezsu, and Alessa's servant manage to dislodge the wagon and reposition its wheels to gain traction.
"Wonderful," says Granny, nodding her head toward the inn. "I'm sure Arik is tired of hearing about my wares by now. But it isn't like I'm impressed by the exact same wine and potato soup he's put out every day this month. Oh, don't mind me, dears, just a little business rivalry. Poor Arik can't help his food tastes of dirt. Oh, and speaking of, can I give you a nice pie for helping me? I've got a hearty meat and turnip, or a nice pumpkin with sage?"
Ismark produces several gold coins. "We are happy to pay, Granny. Three of each. Truly, today I know we are especially grateful for the food you provide." Granny tuts, throwing a sympathetic look Ismark's way, seeming to understand. "Well, you just take care of yourself, young man. This village needs you, you know." She collects the coins and stacks the pies in the hands of any who offer to carry them. "Well, younglings, I'm off. Take care of yourselves, too. Barovia isn't an easy place to make a go of it. We need more hearty folk such as yourselves." She winks at Alessa, then hauls up her cart and begins to drag it forward, the muddy wheels creaking as she goes. "Pies, fresh pies!"
Ismark gives her a little wave, but then seems to remember himself. "Right," he says. "Back to the house."
The heavy fog that had rolled in continues its slow crawl south through town, and soon it's difficult to see more than a few yards in front of you. The day proves to be continually overcast, making the burgomaster's mansion even more glum that it was the day before.
Once inside, Ismark has you lay the pies out on the dining table and fetches a bottle of wine. "Please, eat!" He immediately sets to work, nailing up the front door and any other gaps in the windows that he finds.
"Now when your father's body is properly buried, do you still think the monsters can attack?" Alessa chose the pumpkin pie and took a piece. "Truly good, And probably worth all the money asked for it." She pinched a small piece of crust and paused savouring the taste. "We had a visitor today during the ceremony." Informed she Ed and Sezsu who were busy during investigation talking with Father Donovich about his son. "Ismark suspects the worse. I can be that we already attracted the attention of the devil." With every mentioning it was easier and easier to call the Master of the Land like this. "I am convinced more than ever we need to talk to Vistani as soon as possible. Too many things are bound to them. Not to mention, if they found us in our town, they should know the way home." She looked towards the window. It was shut and barricaded, but she remembered the mist outside and winced. "Not sure, though, we can find them - or anything - in this mist. I think you told us where to find them, Ismark, but can not remember. Which way would it be?"
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Ismark takes a break from his carpentry. Beaded with sweat, his hair plastered to his pale forehead, he sighs heavily and drags a sleeve over his brow. Sitting down beside Alessa, he helps himself to a piece of the meat and turnip pie. He smiles, also savoring the taste. “What is secret of crust? So flaky, yet tender! Granny and her daughters are very talented cooks.” He sips some wine, the same watery vintage served yesterday, Purple Grapemash No. 3.
He stands and moves about the room, lighting several candles to aid the poor light struggling through the cracks in the window boards. He listens intently to Alessa’s points and allows her to finish her thoughts before responding. “The monsters can attack anytime they wish, I suppose. Why they attacked this house, why they stopped after father died, why the… person you saw appeared at funeral, I cannot say. But it makes me ill at ease.”
“The Vistani may be found all through the wilderness, but they are said to have a permanent camp east of here. About a full day’s journey walking on Old Svalich Road, the main road west. Past the River Ivlis Bridge, where Bildrath thinks his lost wagon is found, there is road that runs northwest to lake called Tser Pool. There they might be found. You can also reach Tser Pool by traveling up River Ivlis, but I cannot suggest you leave main road!”
"I saw the stranger at the graveyard but I assumed there were plenty in town who would want to pay their respects to the burgomaster and didn't think too much of it," Sezsu says offhandedly around a mouthful of meat and turnip pie. He casually picks the first vegetable he finds out of his mouth and sets it on the table with a look of disgust. "Why do you both think their presence bodes ill?"
After hearing the directions, he asks, "If the Vistani can travel back and forth, why have all 'visitors' ended up trapped here? Are you certain they can be trusted?"
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Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Ed politely waits until everyone has had at least one slice of pie, excepting Zied, before grabbing a gealthy slice of each and tucking into them with a similar vigor to the breakfast earlier that day. "Well, perhaps if we take the main road past the bridge we can spy out that disowned cargo and return it to the Vistani. That might put us in a more favourable position to enquire whether they have the means to return us whence we came. Though it would seem poor form bot to offer us our return regardless... In due course that is. I would like to try and do something for these folks vefore we abandon them and return to our own lands."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Ismark nestles back in his chair and pats his belly "Because the person was there, and then gone. And Alessa was not seeing figments. A single pair of boot marks in the mud confirmed it. I ask you, what sort of man can be present without arriving, and be gone without departing? Us Barovians know of such tricks. Such is the way of the..." He swallows thickly. "...the vampire."
"As for the Vistani, ah..." Ismark shrugs helplessly. "They have powers that only they understand. Some have power to move through the mist. Why or how is up to them, it seems. Their ways are mysterious, and they do not share them with Barovians. They say that Vistani curses are powerful, so anger them at your peril."
“Shh!” Ismark says abruptly, leaping to his feet. “What was that?”
A gentle tap-tap-tap comes from the dining room window.
Ismark grabs an empty candelabra from a side table and cautiously approaches, crouching down to peer between the window’s boards. The tapping continues uninterrupted.
After what feels like an hour, he stands up, chuckling. “Ah, my nerves! Is only tree! Perhaps I have too much wine. You must think--”
Crash
The sound comes from across the hall, from a spare bedroom.
In a flash Ismark races through the dining room, dropping his candelabra, and toward the front hall. “My crossbow! Is near door!”
From somewhere down the hall, a gurgling moan is heard. A form lurches into view, dragging one foot as it raises bloated arms and broken hands. The creature advances, driven to kill anyone too slow to escape its grasp.
GM:
Alessa initiative: 18
Edlanar initiative: 16
Sezsu initiative (advantage): Unable to parse dice roll.
Zied initiative: 11
Ismark initiative: 11
Enemy initiative: 16