Regmiir nods in approval to Ed, Sezsu, and Zied for the warhammer and takes silent note of the short stack comment. While he is more used to the fluidity and ease from the trustworthy blade he's used over the years, this instrument would require a different touch to maximize its deadly purpose. He turns the warhammer over in his hands and gives it a practice seeing to get a feel for its weight and balance. While she's ain't Nothing Special, she'll do.
He also accepts the crossbow, thankful for having an additional option should things turn sideways. As she offers magical armor, Regmiir politely defines, "Thank yeh M'lady, but I think it'd be best t'keep yerself well prepared instead. No telling what may 'appen next."
Seeing everyone snap to attention, he feels a bit more reassured of the situation. At least, he knew these folks to not be of the same mentality as the locals given the reaction to what he had seen before being captured. He flashed a confident grin, thinking himself to be right about needing that prod. He addresses the tense crew, "I 'ave no intentions of lying to yerselves over what I 'ad seen or didn't seen. If M'lady is right, I 'ope that what I saw was just some trickery and that luck be on our sides now, eh?"
Regmiir moves into position next to Ed and gives a nod to assert readiness, bracing himself for what lay beyond the door.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
At Alessa's statement Zied looks closely at Regmiir, and as he sattles up against the door. "Excuse me. Just checking" spoken low before batting Regmiir over the back of the head and checking for the reaction and feel of the flesh. "Hags and also a werewolf earlier this week."
Shrugging after impacting and feeling realistic. "Carry on then" without so much as an apology, taking things in order. Handing Regmiir his chitanous shield, the closest thing to an apolgey the new cohort gets from Zied. His hands free, he pulls a dagger in his left hand reverse grip, as he adjusts his rod and alchemical pebble pouch.
EDIT:
Pausing for a moment and adressing Alessa; "So, presumably a Hag could fake one of us?" removing a bit of gop and crushing a pebble into it, Zied marks each one of us with an impromtue brand, placed out of sight. Undersides of shirts, under a cloak, etc. "If need be this'll help identify each other."
Using Magical Tinkering to mark a random piece of item on each person that is attached to them (i.e. clothing, or gear as opposed to a weapon, shield, or easily removable gloves etc).
"Would not put it past them, though, I think they change form to present themselves better than they look if it's needed. One second it's the Sezsu's dream maiden, the other a trueself old hag. For spying, they might use animals, rather than go somewhere themselves in a different shape. Would not expect them to turn into a male either. But, again, would expect anything so keep an eye for second Alessa."
The agitated raven above the door takes flight as Ed strides boldly toward the windmill's door. The door is unlocked but sticks to its hinges. It opens with a firm push and a loud creaking.
The ground floor has been converted into a makeshift kitchen, but the room is filthy. Baskets and old dishware are piled everywhere. Adding to the clutter is a peddler’s cart, a chicken coop, a heavy wooden trunk, and a pretty wooden cabinet with flowers painted on its doors. In addition to the clucking of the chickens, you hear toads croaking.
The sweet and savory smell of pastries blends horridly with a stench that burns your nostrils. The awful odor comes out of an open, upright barrel in the center of the room.
Warmth issues from a brick oven against one wall, and a crumbling staircase ascends the wall across from it. Voices carry down from upstairs, but fade as the door opens. A woman's voice calls down. "Mother, is that you?"
Ed gestures to Zied to check the barrel, trusting the chef to be able to work out why the smell in here has an acrid tang to it. Hearing the call from upstairs for their mother, Ed is hit with so many conflicting thoughts at once. The lack of immediate evidence from child murder slighty tempers his anger, he remebers though Alessa's warning of trickery and deception, of promises never delivered and forces himself to regain his focus.
He advances to the stair and calls up, "Not your mother. We developed a bit of a taste for pie whilst in Barovia..." Ed's face blanches, as he speaks the words there is a flash of recognition in his eyes, the link between the pies, the dreams, and murdered children suddenly coming to a chilling conclusion in his mind. He struggles to maintain himself and starts to wretch at the thought of what might have been in those pies. He places his hand on the wall, steadying himself then quickly drops to one knee and makes a quick prayer to Lathander, "Morninglord, Dawnfather, I pray that these fears are falsehoods. Give me a sign your grace is still upon me, that I have not... Done that!".
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(Jumping back a bit)
As Zied smacks Regmiir upside the head from behind, the dwarf seizes up and turns around slowly. He comes to a stop facing Zied and slowly draws a line up with his nose as he stares him right back in the eyes. Though Reg speaks no words, his expression carries a singular and exact message regarding what the dwarf thinks about unprovoked attacks. He pauses for a moment to make sure Zied has clearly understood the silent exchange before turning back around.
This was no time for fooling around, Reg thought as he faced back towards the windmill. It'd be one thing if they were in front of a hearth at a warm tavern, but being alone in unfamiliar territory dictated a higher need for survival over shenanigans. And to think there would be such a thing as a dwarven hag, hah! Add this to the list of reasons why he dislikes dealing with nobility, they ain't got enough sense outside of their courts and circles and whatnot. With the way this lot's been reacting, it's like they've never seen a dwarf before.
Still, it was good to see the fight in their eyes after recounting his experiences at the windmill. He sighed and let only the faintest of a smile crack as he thought, there may yet be hope for them. Reg gripped his gifted weapon tightly with newfound determination and pressed forward with the crew
As the door creaks open, flashes of memories flood Regmiir's mind. The sight of massive mounds of children bones has been replaced by this eerie and unsettling interior, though the smell was much the same. He sees Ed motion towards Zied and is lured by the familiar voice from above. He decides to take point and slowly creeps up the stairs, stopping right outside the door.
Stealth Check: 20
He listens to Ed's challenge to the voice and stops as a terrifying revelation comes together in his head. Regmiir had found it strange that despite the mounds of youngling bones, there was no sign of any flayed flesh or detritus anywhere in the windmill, from what he could recall. Stranger still, the bones had been bleached white as if boiled for long periods of time. Experiencing now the sights and scents of baking with Ed's account of the pies removed all doubt from what Regmiir now suspected about the nature of the children's demise and the sadism of their assailants.
He does not notice that his grip on the warhammer has drained his knuckles of blood, nor the tingling heat that seemed to eminate from the silver coin in his pocket. All he could concentrare on now was the swelling of confidence he would need to see through these next moments.
She was talking about illusions and yet did not prepare to meet some. ((Unless suddenly kind and benevolent DM allows the 10 min ritual to take place before entering the mill.)) She could do it now, though. Alessa walked in after Ed and looked around, trying to figure out what leaks magic in this place. (Detect Magic)
She did not send out Grano, yet, for she needed to examine that room first.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Zied effectively misses the point of Regmiir's visual intimidation and just continues on speaking after verifying the physicality and without a sudden shift in demeanor nor falsehoods. Regmiir don't forget you now are borrowing Zied's shield from that exchange as well. Tasty AC for you
==============================
"Ed. You sound like a psychopathic home invader right now." Zied whispers to Ed implying between "taste for pie" and the quick prayer. However Zied does move towards the cookery and examines the area, continuing "Well, we kind of are right now. I still would like to buy flour." Unlike the others stressing over morality, and pain. Zied is more clinical, and less concerned with what has happened, and more concerned with what will happen.
Zied tries to grasp the purpose and type of materials used to make the pie... at least until the presumably middle aged daughter comes down.
Cook tools! Ideally, sub out the +5 for another if preferred GM.13
As Regmiir notes, small human bones litter the flagstone floor.
Zied notes various implements for cooking pies, both pastry and fillings. An unusual, bone-white flour coats numerous surfaces, and there is evidence of various vegetables, herbs, spices, and fillings. Scraps of meat--tendons and connective tissue mostly--rot in a waste bin to the side.
Alessa’s spell registers the presence of strong conjuration and divination auras coming from the barrel. Upon inspection, she must hold her breath against the sickening smell. It’s filled with a glistening, greenish-black ichor.
“Sister, we’ve guests!” Emerging from the upper floor is a middle-aged woman, tall and thin with bony knobbed joints and a long sharp chin and nose. She is pale white with jet black hair put up into a messy and frazzled bun, a long needle stuck through it to hold it up. Her eyes lock on Regmiir. “And, oh! The piggie’s out of its pen!”
“Hush, Bella, I’m working.” A voice calls back. “Wait--what?!”
Appearing on the stairs is another woman, also middle aged, squat and round with an upturned pig-like nose and beady little eyes embedded in a round face. The expression she aims at Regmiir is unsettlingly similar to a cat eyeing a caged bird.
“Welcome, Sirs… And Madame!” says the tall one. “I’m Bella. Are you here for some scrumptious pies? We’re so very sorry for the state of our bakery, but it’s quite rare we receive guests! Still, there is ample room if you’d like to sit for a spell. And I see you’ve already met our…ahem…visitor.”
((@DM - I'm assuming Ed can clearly identify the bones as human))
As the two women descend the stairs, Ed rises and returns to stand at his full height. He relaxes himself, untensing his muscles and inwardly calming his guts as his moment of revulsion is forced to pass. "We wondered what pies you had available..." Looking at the bones strewn across the floor Ed gestures with his shield hand, "You certainly don't leave any meat on the bone. I've recently heard tale of some strange goings on here."
The paladin makes certain to close distance with the two as they walk into the room, not getting up in their faces, just ensuring they are within quick reach should he need to act.
"Waste not, want not!" Bella sing-songs as she steps down the staircase to meet Ed. The other woman sniffs the air, giggling to herself. She follows Bella.
Bella eyes each member of the party from head to toe. "Meat is so precious a commodity, and even bone is too useful to a baker to be disregarded. We make the most of what we have. But don't take that to mean that our wares aren't singularly remarkable! Have you ever tasted our pie? I think you will find the experience to be positively blissful!"
"Let's see, today we have a meat-and-turnip (a touch of rosemary there), and a sweet pumpkin with cinnamon. Mmm smells delicious, doesn't it? But I shan't tell you all our secrets, you funny man! No! Let us just say that it's a family recipe passed down from our mother's mother. Do you know our mother, Morgantha?"
"Alas, I am afraid there isn't much going on here to speak of. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We are just spinsters three!"
It was a kind of absurd situation: they had a witness of the atrocities those two "women" committed, the evidence of which was literally lying on the floor - and still, it was difficult to attack the cheerfully chatting monster. Like with Strahd yesterday. The only missing thing was to politely remark on the weather.
"I would assume this "soup" is the part of the filling? Do you make it from the meat of the children you kill and use bones to add to the flour?" The two were probably as dangerous as Strahd with his werewolves escort, but if they came to fight, it was time to declare the intention. "Springsters three... Nice name for a coven."Alessa was almost sure they are hags, but admittance of the fact from monsters could speed up the events.
Zied effectively misses the point of Regmiir's visual intimidation and just continues on speaking after verifying the physicality and without a sudden shift in demeanor nor falsehoods. Regmiir don't forget you now are borrowing Zied's shield from that exchange as well. Tasty AC for you
(home now. if Alessa is taking time for a ritual casting. Zied will take time to do this below. GM if disallow let me know~
Handing off his shield, and noting as Alessa begins to weave his magic. "Well, I suppose if we're expecting trouble..." bending over and finding a nicely sized cobbled stone Zied digs into the edge with a knife, gripping his fingers underneath and hauling the stone out. Tossing it to the side with a huff-old habits from when he required breath for exertion. Taking a small vial out, as well as some of his canteen he pours a layer of liquid into the newly unearthed groove. Adding in a strap of leather and cloth, dropping a drop from the vial causing the water the crystalize and freeze as he pushes into it with his other hand. Smoothing the forming ice into an impromteu shape of the cobbled stone.
Standing as he fits the newly grown ice buckler to his arm. tapping it and checking for cracks. "This will do."
"Let's see, today we have a meat-and-turnip (a touch of rosemary there), and a sweet pumpkin with cinnamon. Mmm smells delicious, doesn't it? But I shan't tell you all our secrets, you funny man! No! Let us just say that it's a family recipe passed down from our mother's mother. Do you know our mother, Morgantha?"
"Alas, I am afraid there isn't much going on here to speak of. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We are just spinsters three!"
Shifting to try and keep an eye out for any surprise "fourth" siblings Zied comments. "Turnip does not pair with rosemary. Turnip cooked properly is soft-rosemary is garrish and catches in the teeth. Your sanitation for cooking is worthless. Even in these lands of foul, you can do better."
"Shame, I had been hoping for flour-Not bone meal to barter for." As he speaks such, Zied is mildly curious at the restrant shown by his cohorts, having rather expected an emotional outburst and righteous thunder given the state of the room, the bones, the fetid meats. "Do tell, is Morgantha an associate of the lord of these lands, or does she barter and intoxciate the residents of a town days travel from here?"
Sezsu grimaces before forcefully plastering on his "business" smile and taking a step forward, giving a slight bow and gesticulating wildly around the room as he speaks.
"I believe what my companions mean to say is that we've sampled your pies previously and, indeed, found them to be... erm... enchanting. I, for one, am quite excited to have found the source of your meticulously... crafted... wares." He clears his throat as he takes a moment to fully take in the two women.
"We have, as has been mentioned already, heard... well... interesting things about ingredients you use and wanted to see what goes into these flavor experiences for ourselves. You see, our Lord has grown concerned with the health of his subjects and has decreed the formation of a governing board of inspectors to oversee the clean and safe preparation of food stuffs by local businesses and, believe it or not, this is our very first stop in our new commission."
He briefly gives the group a sidelong glance before continuing.
"Would you be so hospitable as to show us around your operation so that we can report back that your kitchen continues to be a commendable addition to the community as well as a safe workplace? We wouldn't want the two of you hurting yourselves in the workplace because we failed in our duties, you see..."
The young cleric is attempting to ease the tension and confuse the women while also stalling the group momentarily so they can discern the truth of the matter before attacking potentially innocent women in their home.
Insight: 24 to discern whatever can be read from Bella's body language and tone as she tries to steer us away from the fact that they cook children and probably have their 3rd sneaking up on us as we speak. 😅
Zied: "Turnip does not pair with rosemary. Turnip cooked properly is soft-rosemary is garrish and catches in the teeth. Your sanitation for cooking is worthless. Even in these lands of foul, you can do better."
“Pumpkin, then,” Bella says, wrapping one of the handpies in a napkin and offering it to Zied with a crooked smile. She ignores the jibe about sanitation.
Zied: "Do tell, is Morgantha an associate of the lord of these lands, or does she barter and intoxciate the residents of a town days travel from here?"
Bella looks a bit puzzled, crinkling her pointy face. “We’re all associates of Lord Strahd, my dear, voluntarily or involuntarily. Strahd is the land, as they say. He seems to be everywhere at once. As to our business, mother travels to and from Barovia with her cart. She was due back this morning, as a matter of fact. We thought you were her when you entered our mill!”
Sezsu: [lies]
Bella laughs. “Sister! Did you hear that! This young man fancies himself a governor of a board. Well, my fine young man, worry not. Lord Strahd knows all. If he were concerned about our pies we would know. More like he understands that our pies bring peace and beauty to the lives of those who subsist in such a dreary place.”
“...Sister? Offalia!”
“Offalia” has been silent during the conversation, instead circling the periphery of the room and sniffing at the air. She pauses near Alessa, her beady eyes shining brightly.
Alessa: "I would assume this "soup" is the part of the filling? Do you make it from the meat of the children you kill and use bones to add to the flour? . . . Springsters three... Nice name for a coven."
“You should know,” Offalia growls, her tone dark and gravely. She takes another sniff of Alessa. She passes her sister a meaningful look. “The mark is well concealed, but it is there. Sister, we have here another of the brood. One who has failed to abide by the ageless code.” She regards Alessa seriously. “Think you not to announce your presence before crossing another’s threshold? And without even a tuppeny gift, you lowly harridan!”
Bella peers at Alessa, a slow realization forming on her face. “Where is your coven?”
"Coven? What do they mean, 'Lessa? I thought you studied with a wizard..."
Attempting to recover from the derailment of the conversation, he turns back to Bella.
"Well... you see... Lord Strahd feels it beneath him to deal with such things directly as he's quite busy these days. As such, he's sent us in his stead. And please pardon my saying so, but the bones strewn about really don't count in your favor for this assessment. We will need to know the contents of the barrel to include in our report. Now, if we could proceed with the tour...?"
"Thought? We were introduced by my mentor, and you know him quite well, Sezsu."She suddenly smiled at the young man sweetly, though the smile died out immediately. "We are talking with hags, remember? The barrel oozes magic, a mixture of two schools - summoning and scrying... Would not mind taking a sample to study but do not touch it with naked hands."She left Bella to answer the tour question while looking straight into the eyes of Offalia.
The hags did not admit but did not deny either the occupation of murder. Alessa felt it was due to them seeing that worst of the crime imaginable as something trivial and not worth a discussion. The absurd conversation continued. "I did hear about your traditions but I am not your visiting hag to bring gifts. Tell me, is it your mother who brings children here?"
Ed looks at Alessa for a moment, confused at how the supposed hags have reacted to her. Their words however, only re-enforced the general suspicion that they are not the comely bakers they outwardly profess to being. He quickly quaffs the Elixir of Boldness that Zied made for him that morning, and catches Regmiir's eye, nods to the closest woman, and gestures towards his sword then carefully moves himself into striking range hoping the dwarf would would follow his lead. In his mind these ladies had done enough to prove their guilt, and Edlanar was ready to act.
He speaks clearly, confident in his faith and calls forth Lathander's blessing, "Morninglord, let your light cleanse this place." His sword coming ablaze with bright light, extending out in all directions...
Regmiir nods in approval to Ed, Sezsu, and Zied for the warhammer and takes silent note of the short stack comment. While he is more used to the fluidity and ease from the trustworthy blade he's used over the years, this instrument would require a different touch to maximize its deadly purpose. He turns the warhammer over in his hands and gives it a practice seeing to get a feel for its weight and balance. While she's ain't Nothing Special, she'll do.
He also accepts the crossbow, thankful for having an additional option should things turn sideways. As she offers magical armor, Regmiir politely defines, "Thank yeh M'lady, but I think it'd be best t'keep yerself well prepared instead. No telling what may 'appen next."
Seeing everyone snap to attention, he feels a bit more reassured of the situation. At least, he knew these folks to not be of the same mentality as the locals given the reaction to what he had seen before being captured. He flashed a confident grin, thinking himself to be right about needing that prod. He addresses the tense crew, "I 'ave no intentions of lying to yerselves over what I 'ad seen or didn't seen. If M'lady is right, I 'ope that what I saw was just some trickery and that luck be on our sides now, eh?"
Regmiir moves into position next to Ed and gives a nod to assert readiness, bracing himself for what lay beyond the door.
At Alessa's statement Zied looks closely at Regmiir, and as he sattles up against the door. "Excuse me. Just checking" spoken low before batting Regmiir over the back of the head and checking for the reaction and feel of the flesh. "Hags and also a werewolf earlier this week."
Shrugging after impacting and feeling realistic. "Carry on then" without so much as an apology, taking things in order. Handing Regmiir his chitanous shield, the closest thing to an apolgey the new cohort gets from Zied. His hands free, he pulls a dagger in his left hand reverse grip, as he adjusts his rod and alchemical pebble pouch.
EDIT:
Pausing for a moment and adressing Alessa; "So, presumably a Hag could fake one of us?" removing a bit of gop and crushing a pebble into it, Zied marks each one of us with an impromtue brand, placed out of sight. Undersides of shirts, under a cloak, etc. "If need be this'll help identify each other."
Using Magical Tinkering to mark a random piece of item on each person that is attached to them (i.e. clothing, or gear as opposed to a weapon, shield, or easily removable gloves etc).
If we actually wanna see if I hit~ 7
"Would not put it past them, though, I think they change form to present themselves better than they look if it's needed. One second it's the Sezsu's dream maiden, the other a trueself old hag. For spying, they might use animals, rather than go somewhere themselves in a different shape. Would not expect them to turn into a male either. But, again, would expect anything so keep an eye for second Alessa."
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
The agitated raven above the door takes flight as Ed strides boldly toward the windmill's door. The door is unlocked but sticks to its hinges. It opens with a firm push and a loud creaking.
The ground floor has been converted into a makeshift kitchen, but the room is filthy. Baskets and old dishware are piled everywhere. Adding to the clutter is a peddler’s cart, a chicken coop, a heavy wooden trunk, and a pretty wooden cabinet with flowers painted on its doors. In addition to the clucking of the chickens, you hear toads croaking.
The sweet and savory smell of pastries blends horridly with a stench that burns your nostrils. The awful odor comes out of an open, upright barrel in the center of the room.
Warmth issues from a brick oven against one wall, and a crumbling staircase ascends the wall across from it. Voices carry down from upstairs, but fade as the door opens. A woman's voice calls down. "Mother, is that you?"
Ed gestures to Zied to check the barrel, trusting the chef to be able to work out why the smell in here has an acrid tang to it. Hearing the call from upstairs for their mother, Ed is hit with so many conflicting thoughts at once. The lack of immediate evidence from child murder slighty tempers his anger, he remebers though Alessa's warning of trickery and deception, of promises never delivered and forces himself to regain his focus.
He advances to the stair and calls up, "Not your mother. We developed a bit of a taste for pie whilst in Barovia..." Ed's face blanches, as he speaks the words there is a flash of recognition in his eyes, the link between the pies, the dreams, and murdered children suddenly coming to a chilling conclusion in his mind. He struggles to maintain himself and starts to wretch at the thought of what might have been in those pies. He places his hand on the wall, steadying himself then quickly drops to one knee and makes a quick prayer to Lathander, "Morninglord, Dawnfather, I pray that these fears are falsehoods. Give me a sign your grace is still upon me, that I have not... Done that!".
Ed uses the prayer to cast protection from evil and good upon himself.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
(Jumping back a bit)
As Zied smacks Regmiir upside the head from behind, the dwarf seizes up and turns around slowly. He comes to a stop facing Zied and slowly draws a line up with his nose as he stares him right back in the eyes. Though Reg speaks no words, his expression carries a singular and exact message regarding what the dwarf thinks about unprovoked attacks. He pauses for a moment to make sure Zied has clearly understood the silent exchange before turning back around.
This was no time for fooling around, Reg thought as he faced back towards the windmill. It'd be one thing if they were in front of a hearth at a warm tavern, but being alone in unfamiliar territory dictated a higher need for survival over shenanigans. And to think there would be such a thing as a dwarven hag, hah! Add this to the list of reasons why he dislikes dealing with nobility, they ain't got enough sense outside of their courts and circles and whatnot. With the way this lot's been reacting, it's like they've never seen a dwarf before.
Still, it was good to see the fight in their eyes after recounting his experiences at the windmill. He sighed and let only the faintest of a smile crack as he thought, there may yet be hope for them. Reg gripped his gifted weapon tightly with newfound determination and pressed forward with the crew
As the door creaks open, flashes of memories flood Regmiir's mind. The sight of massive mounds of children bones has been replaced by this eerie and unsettling interior, though the smell was much the same. He sees Ed motion towards Zied and is lured by the familiar voice from above. He decides to take point and slowly creeps up the stairs, stopping right outside the door.
Stealth Check: 20
He listens to Ed's challenge to the voice and stops as a terrifying revelation comes together in his head. Regmiir had found it strange that despite the mounds of youngling bones, there was no sign of any flayed flesh or detritus anywhere in the windmill, from what he could recall. Stranger still, the bones had been bleached white as if boiled for long periods of time. Experiencing now the sights and scents of baking with Ed's account of the pies removed all doubt from what Regmiir now suspected about the nature of the children's demise and the sadism of their assailants.
He does not notice that his grip on the warhammer has drained his knuckles of blood, nor the tingling heat that seemed to eminate from the silver coin in his pocket. All he could concentrare on now was the swelling of confidence he would need to see through these next moments.
She was talking about illusions and yet did not prepare to meet some. ((Unless suddenly kind and benevolent DM allows the 10 min ritual to take place before entering the mill.)) She could do it now, though. Alessa walked in after Ed and looked around, trying to figure out what leaks magic in this place. (Detect Magic)
She did not send out Grano, yet, for she needed to examine that room first.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Zied effectively misses the point of Regmiir's visual intimidation and just continues on speaking after verifying the physicality and without a sudden shift in demeanor nor falsehoods.
Regmiir don't forget you now are borrowing Zied's shield from that exchange as well. Tasty AC for you
==============================
"Ed. You sound like a psychopathic home invader right now." Zied whispers to Ed implying between "taste for pie" and the quick prayer. However Zied does move towards the cookery and examines the area, continuing "Well, we kind of are right now. I still would like to buy flour." Unlike the others stressing over morality, and pain. Zied is more clinical, and less concerned with what has happened, and more concerned with what will happen.
Zied tries to grasp the purpose and type of materials used to make the pie... at least until the presumably middle aged daughter comes down.
Cook tools! Ideally, sub out the +5 for another if preferred GM.13
As Regmiir notes, small human bones litter the flagstone floor.
Zied notes various implements for cooking pies, both pastry and fillings. An unusual, bone-white flour coats numerous surfaces, and there is evidence of various vegetables, herbs, spices, and fillings. Scraps of meat--tendons and connective tissue mostly--rot in a waste bin to the side.
Alessa’s spell registers the presence of strong conjuration and divination auras coming from the barrel. Upon inspection, she must hold her breath against the sickening smell. It’s filled with a glistening, greenish-black ichor.
“Sister, we’ve guests!” Emerging from the upper floor is a middle-aged woman, tall and thin with bony knobbed joints and a long sharp chin and nose. She is pale white with jet black hair put up into a messy and frazzled bun, a long needle stuck through it to hold it up. Her eyes lock on Regmiir. “And, oh! The piggie’s out of its pen!”
“Hush, Bella, I’m working.” A voice calls back. “Wait--what?!”
Appearing on the stairs is another woman, also middle aged, squat and round with an upturned pig-like nose and beady little eyes embedded in a round face. The expression she aims at Regmiir is unsettlingly similar to a cat eyeing a caged bird.
“Welcome, Sirs… And Madame!” says the tall one. “I’m Bella. Are you here for some scrumptious pies? We’re so very sorry for the state of our bakery, but it’s quite rare we receive guests! Still, there is ample room if you’d like to sit for a spell. And I see you’ve already met our…ahem…visitor.”
((@DM - I'm assuming Ed can clearly identify the bones as human))
As the two women descend the stairs, Ed rises and returns to stand at his full height. He relaxes himself, untensing his muscles and inwardly calming his guts as his moment of revulsion is forced to pass. "We wondered what pies you had available..." Looking at the bones strewn across the floor Ed gestures with his shield hand, "You certainly don't leave any meat on the bone. I've recently heard tale of some strange goings on here."
The paladin makes certain to close distance with the two as they walk into the room, not getting up in their faces, just ensuring they are within quick reach should he need to act.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"Waste not, want not!" Bella sing-songs as she steps down the staircase to meet Ed. The other woman sniffs the air, giggling to herself. She follows Bella.
Bella eyes each member of the party from head to toe. "Meat is so precious a commodity, and even bone is too useful to a baker to be disregarded. We make the most of what we have. But don't take that to mean that our wares aren't singularly remarkable! Have you ever tasted our pie? I think you will find the experience to be positively blissful!"
"Let's see, today we have a meat-and-turnip (a touch of rosemary there), and a sweet pumpkin with cinnamon. Mmm smells delicious, doesn't it? But I shan't tell you all our secrets, you funny man! No! Let us just say that it's a family recipe passed down from our mother's mother. Do you know our mother, Morgantha?"
"Alas, I am afraid there isn't much going on here to speak of. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We are just spinsters three!"
It was a kind of absurd situation: they had a witness of the atrocities those two "women" committed, the evidence of which was literally lying on the floor - and still, it was difficult to attack the cheerfully chatting monster. Like with Strahd yesterday. The only missing thing was to politely remark on the weather.
"I would assume this "soup" is the part of the filling? Do you make it from the meat of the children you kill and use bones to add to the flour?" The two were probably as dangerous as Strahd with his werewolves escort, but if they came to fight, it was time to declare the intention. "Springsters three... Nice name for a coven." Alessa was almost sure they are hags, but admittance of the fact from monsters could speed up the events.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
(home now. if Alessa is taking time for a ritual casting. Zied will take time to do this below. GM if disallow let me know~
Handing off his shield, and noting as Alessa begins to weave his magic. "Well, I suppose if we're expecting trouble..." bending over and finding a nicely sized cobbled stone Zied digs into the edge with a knife, gripping his fingers underneath and hauling the stone out. Tossing it to the side with a huff-old habits from when he required breath for exertion. Taking a small vial out, as well as some of his canteen he pours a layer of liquid into the newly unearthed groove. Adding in a strap of leather and cloth, dropping a drop from the vial causing the water the crystalize and freeze as he pushes into it with his other hand. Smoothing the forming ice into an impromteu shape of the cobbled stone.
Standing as he fits the newly grown ice buckler to his arm. tapping it and checking for cracks. "This will do."
Zied cast Armor of Agathys
Shifting to try and keep an eye out for any surprise "fourth" siblings Zied comments. "Turnip does not pair with rosemary. Turnip cooked properly is soft-rosemary is garrish and catches in the teeth. Your sanitation for cooking is worthless. Even in these lands of foul, you can do better."
"Shame, I had been hoping for flour-Not bone meal to barter for." As he speaks such, Zied is mildly curious at the restrant shown by his cohorts, having rather expected an emotional outburst and righteous thunder given the state of the room, the bones, the fetid meats. "Do tell, is Morgantha an associate of the lord of these lands, or does she barter and intoxciate the residents of a town days travel from here?"
Sezsu grimaces before forcefully plastering on his "business" smile and taking a step forward, giving a slight bow and gesticulating wildly around the room as he speaks.
"I believe what my companions mean to say is that we've sampled your pies previously and, indeed, found them to be... erm... enchanting. I, for one, am quite excited to have found the source of your meticulously... crafted... wares." He clears his throat as he takes a moment to fully take in the two women.
"We have, as has been mentioned already, heard... well... interesting things about ingredients you use and wanted to see what goes into these flavor experiences for ourselves. You see, our Lord has grown concerned with the health of his subjects and has decreed the formation of a governing board of inspectors to oversee the clean and safe preparation of food stuffs by local businesses and, believe it or not, this is our very first stop in our new commission."
He briefly gives the group a sidelong glance before continuing.
"Would you be so hospitable as to show us around your operation so that we can report back that your kitchen continues to be a commendable addition to the community as well as a safe workplace? We wouldn't want the two of you hurting yourselves in the workplace because we failed in our duties, you see..."
The young cleric is attempting to ease the tension and confuse the women while also stalling the group momentarily so they can discern the truth of the matter before attacking potentially innocent women in their home.
Deception: 18
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Insight: 24 to discern whatever can be read from Bella's body language and tone as she tries to steer us away from the fact that they cook children and probably have their 3rd sneaking up on us as we speak. 😅
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
GM:
Bella Insight: 19
Other woman's Insight: 8
Zied: "Turnip does not pair with rosemary. Turnip cooked properly is soft-rosemary is garrish and catches in the teeth. Your sanitation for cooking is worthless. Even in these lands of foul, you can do better."
“Pumpkin, then,” Bella says, wrapping one of the handpies in a napkin and offering it to Zied with a crooked smile. She ignores the jibe about sanitation.
Zied: "Do tell, is Morgantha an associate of the lord of these lands, or does she barter and intoxciate the residents of a town days travel from here?"
Bella looks a bit puzzled, crinkling her pointy face. “We’re all associates of Lord Strahd, my dear, voluntarily or involuntarily. Strahd is the land, as they say. He seems to be everywhere at once. As to our business, mother travels to and from Barovia with her cart. She was due back this morning, as a matter of fact. We thought you were her when you entered our mill!”
Sezsu: [lies]
Bella laughs. “Sister! Did you hear that! This young man fancies himself a governor of a board. Well, my fine young man, worry not. Lord Strahd knows all. If he were concerned about our pies we would know. More like he understands that our pies bring peace and beauty to the lives of those who subsist in such a dreary place.”
“...Sister? Offalia!”
“Offalia” has been silent during the conversation, instead circling the periphery of the room and sniffing at the air. She pauses near Alessa, her beady eyes shining brightly.
Alessa: "I would assume this "soup" is the part of the filling? Do you make it from the meat of the children you kill and use bones to add to the flour? . . . Springsters three... Nice name for a coven."
“You should know,” Offalia growls, her tone dark and gravely. She takes another sniff of Alessa. She passes her sister a meaningful look. “The mark is well concealed, but it is there. Sister, we have here another of the brood. One who has failed to abide by the ageless code.” She regards Alessa seriously. “Think you not to announce your presence before crossing another’s threshold? And without even a tuppeny gift, you lowly harridan!”
Bella peers at Alessa, a slow realization forming on her face. “Where is your coven?”
Sezsu's eyes turn to Alessandra.
"Coven? What do they mean, 'Lessa? I thought you studied with a wizard..."
Attempting to recover from the derailment of the conversation, he turns back to Bella.
"Well... you see... Lord Strahd feels it beneath him to deal with such things directly as he's quite busy these days. As such, he's sent us in his stead. And please pardon my saying so, but the bones strewn about really don't count in your favor for this assessment. We will need to know the contents of the barrel to include in our report. Now, if we could proceed with the tour...?"
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
"Thought? We were introduced by my mentor, and you know him quite well, Sezsu." She suddenly smiled at the young man sweetly, though the smile died out immediately. "We are talking with hags, remember? The barrel oozes magic, a mixture of two schools - summoning and scrying... Would not mind taking a sample to study but do not touch it with naked hands." She left Bella to answer the tour question while looking straight into the eyes of Offalia.
The hags did not admit but did not deny either the occupation of murder. Alessa felt it was due to them seeing that worst of the crime imaginable as something trivial and not worth a discussion. The absurd conversation continued. "I did hear about your traditions but I am not your visiting hag to bring gifts. Tell me, is it your mother who brings children here?"
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Ed looks at Alessa for a moment, confused at how the supposed hags have reacted to her. Their words however, only re-enforced the general suspicion that they are not the comely bakers they outwardly profess to being. He quickly quaffs the Elixir of Boldness that Zied made for him that morning, and catches Regmiir's eye, nods to the closest woman, and gestures towards his sword then carefully moves himself into striking range hoping the dwarf would would follow his lead. In his mind these ladies had done enough to prove their guilt, and Edlanar was ready to act.
He speaks clearly, confident in his faith and calls forth Lathander's blessing, "Morninglord, let your light cleanse this place." His sword coming ablaze with bright light, extending out in all directions...
Bring out your inner chatacter class...