"It was not your fault." Robin says, sitting next to Bral. "Even if we had run, right off when the bats came, we would not have gotten away before he arrived." She looks to the book. "Can I have a look at that with you? I too would like to know what he is trying to keep out of our hands..."
Bral as you open the book, you lay eyes on the first couple of pages.
Fifty-First Day of Autumn, 1498
I am the Ancient, I am the Land. My beginnings are lost in the darkness of the past. I was the warrior, I was good and just. I thundered across the land like the wrath of a just god, but the war years and the killing years have worn down my soul as the wind wears stone into sand.
Seventh Day of Autumn, 767
Most men walk through life and do not realize that they are already dead. They slouch along with blank faces and empty eyes, trudging forward towards their deaths and each step they take leads them only closer to their graves. I look at them and see only corpses. It is only perhaps one in a hundred who have the spark of life within them, who have the will to shape the world to their will.
And if these other men, these slouching automatons, move only towards death, making no mark on the world other than the marker above their grave, what does it matter when and where they meet their end? Is it not the right of those with the true spark of life, the true will to change the world, to make use of these other men’s lives, of their deaths? They will die either way, but a man with a true will can give those deaths meaning, and can create a better world for those who are yet to come. Is this not virtuous? If they exist at all, is this not the will of the gods?
What's everyone else doing?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Bral looks up from the book turning to Keldon, "No, I believe he does know where the book is. However, he refused to tell us its location unless we helped him by protecting the reincarnation of his dead wife. A task that seems... almost impossible. We don't even have confirmation that the woman is reincarnated."
He then turns his attention back to the book, and turns the page.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Bral as you open the book, you lay eyes on the first couple of pages.
Fifty-First Day of Autumn, 1498
I am the Ancient, I am the Land. My beginnings are lost in the darkness of the past. I was the warrior, I was good and just. I thundered across the land like the wrath of a just god, but the war years and the killing years have worn down my soul as the wind wears stone into sand.
Seventh Day of Autumn, 767
Most men walk through life and do not realize that they are already dead. They slouch along with blank faces and empty eyes, trudging forward towards their deaths and each step they take leads them only closer to their graves. I look at them and see only corpses. It is only perhaps one in a hundred who have the spark of life within them, who have the will to shape the world to their will.
And if these other men, these slouching automatons, move only towards death, making no mark on the world other than the marker above their grave, what does it matter when and where they meet their end? Is it not the right of those with the true spark of life, the true will to change the world, to make use of these other men’s lives, of their deaths? They will die either way, but a man with a true will can give those deaths meaning, and can create a better world for those who are yet to come. Is this not virtuous? If they exist at all, is this not the will of the gods?
What's everyone else doing?
Robin you read what Bral did as well.
As you continue to look through the book, you find the following entries.
First Day of Spring, 768
For years this world has shown me nothing but ugliness—hate and suffering and death and the persistent dark cloud of war hanging over my lands. I feel that I lived for years shrouded by dark mists, never seeing the sun, and it was not until today that its light first shone upon my face.
Tatyana is her name; a simple girl, of the New Blood, without lands or titles or names worthy of mention. But all of that falls away in the light of her beauty. It is not only that she is fair of face and body—although it cannot be denied that she is surpassingly fair, a rose among weeds in this desolate land. No, Tatyana is not only lovely, she shines with a pure light, a beauty of spirit that I have never witnessed before. Her kindness, her nature—gentle, but at times surprisingly fierce, her quick mind and quicker wit, and her pure joy—she is everything that one could want of a woman, everything that one could want of a wife. I feel that I have been searching all of my life, without realizing that I searched, for Tatyana alone, that she alone can fill a void within me that I never recognized but always felt. And I knew as soon as I met her that I would give anything, even if it be my entire kingdom, to have her.
Forty-Fifth Day of Summer, 768
I ride again for war, and pray that this will be the last one that will bind these lands together under my father’s name and under my protection. But I ride now with a new purpose as well. Tatyana. I see her face when I close my eyes, and I know that I ride to war to protect her, to keep her safe, to forge a new world for her. Her favor rests always beside my heart.
Never have I put much stock in prayers. Men make this world for themselves, and receive only what they fight to earn and fight to keep. But when I remember now that Tatyana is praying for me, I feel that I am invincible. I know that a love as strong as mine will not easily be snuffed out, and that I will return to her when the war is won.
Seventy-Third Day of Winter, 768
Of all those in the valley of Barovia, one shines bright above the others. Only one woman is truly worthy to sit by the side of a king. I would call her a queen, a goddess, a shining beacon in a dark world. And yet, she calls me elder, or brother. When I look into her eyes, they reflect another name: death. She sees in me the end of life, the death of the aged. She relishes in her youth, like Sergei, like all children foolish and lucky enough to be ignorant of the darkness of the world. She loves her youth, but I have squandered mine.
Eighty-First Day of Winter, 768
Women have always loved Sergei better than me. Mother, the simpering powder-faced courtiers, even the servants. Women love Sergei because he is kind like a woman, and that is because, like a woman, he has never witnessed the sweet, horrifying, tantalizing darkness of war. He has never sent men to their deaths, has never faced his own death as it rode him down on the back of a dark destrier, has never seen the light go out of a man’s eyes as its corpse slides from the blade of his sword. Men go to war and they become stronger, or they die. And Tatyana does not know that when the darkness falls and all is lost, when the wolves are at the door, she needs a man by her side who has seen the bleakness of war, a man who is willing not only to die for her but also to kill for her. But instead, she has Sergei. And he will die, and then she will die, and I will survive to mourn them alone.
Seventy-Third Day of Spring, 769
I have done what needed to be done. She will be safe. She will be mine. I sorrow to cause her pain, but I have known in my heart what must be done, and I have done it, no matter the cost. Just as I always have.
Fourteenth Day of Summer, 769
My Tatyana has fallen ill. She has always been of a fragile constitution, and it seems the shock she has experienced has put a heavy strain upon her. I regret that it could not have been avoided, but I know that this was the only way.
I called in my best doctors but they said that they could do nothing for her, that she had given up the will to live. I brought them below and pressed them further, encouraged them to think creatively. Perhaps I pressed them too hard, and now they can do nothing for her. I must seek another solution. Time, as always, races against me.
Thirty-Sixth Day of Summer, 769
I found the answer. A way to save my Tatyana, to keep her with me. I traveled to the edges of my lands and found there something lost, something hidden away, preserved in Amber, magicks thought too dark for any man to know. These magicks held the secret, the secret I needed to save her. And, perhaps, in saving her, to save myself. My youth has been squandered, my life given for my people, for my land. I have paid every coin that I had, and found myself to have purchased a fool’s prize.
I have never feared death, but time, time has been always my greatest enemy. The years slip away from me, and as a moment passes, I look in the mirror and realize that I have become old. After all that I have given, am I not worthy of a measure of time, time to rest, time to love?
There are costs, I know. Those have been made clear to me. Never again shall I walk in sunlight, never shall I know true sleep, food will be but dust in my mouth. Holy ground will be forbidden me as well, but the gods have never done me much good. And what are these costs, any of them, beside Tatyana’s life, her love, for eternity?
Already, my soul is forfeit. There is too dark a stain upon it to ever be undone. But, perhaps, with more blood on hands already too red to notice any difference, I will be able to keep her with me, forever.
Forty-Second Day of Summer, 769
I knew my memory would hold forever, but I did not know what horrors it would hold. Forever, I will clearly see the sight of her body, lying broken and lifeless on those rocks far below. I went to her, and as I reached her, the sky split open and I heard a dark voice. “The promise has been kept.” This is not how it was intended! In the halls of Ravenloft, below, a woman was giving birth. Twins are lucky, the elves say, and what could be more pure of soul than children just brought into this world without any chance to sully themselves. Two of them, one for her and one for me.
I did not even have the chance to bury her body. The mists swirled down and took her away, and as they did they closed in around me. I could feel them tightening on my throat. But I also felt something new, a power coursing through my veins. Strength. Vitality. “No!” I roared, and I reached out and I tore at the mists and as her soul tried to float away from me I tied it down, I tied it to this land. If I am trapped here, then so is she. It may take me one year or a thousand, but I will find her and I will bind her to me. I am here for eternity, but so is she. We have all of the time in the world.
Seventh Day of Winter, 1028
I have come to know my new life, as the years have passed by, wearing down the land, reshaping the world, but never touching me. Vampyr is my new name. Still I lust for life and youth, and I curse the living that took them from me. Even the sun is against me. It is the sun and its light that I fear the most, but little else can harm me now. Even a stake through the heart would not kill me, despite what some might tell you. But the sword, that cursed sword that Sergei brought to this land! I must dispose of that vile weapon. I loathe it as I loathe the sunlight.
I have hunted many years for Tatyana. I have found and lost her countless times. Yet, time and time again, she eludes my grasp. The memory of her face haunts me, taunting me, tantalizing me. What would it take to finally bind her to me?
Long ago, my father rebuilt the walls of Castle Ravenloft. Now, I have made a new home for myself, far beneath its walls. I live among the dead and sleep beneath the very stones of this hollow castle. I shall seal shut the walls of the stairs that none may disturb me. If ever I fall, I must return to that dread box, that constant reminder that life is not to be mine. Each time I fall, I am reborn, and each time my mind grows darker. I must find Tatyana. I must have her, or all has been for naught.
Strahd von Zarovich
Ez turns to Keldon. "He wanted us to find someone who looks like Tatyana, just like his dead wife."
The dragonborn finishes his set a table of women at their seats cheer.
Another woman in a black dress walks over to the table. "What are we having this evening?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Baudric thinks back to the strange vision he'd had talking to the ghost and turns to the woman, "Water please, thank you. Also, does the name 'Blinksy' mean anything to you?"
Once Bral has finished reading he slams it shut and curses, "This book has confirmed what we already knew. Strahd was obsessed with this woman, Tatyana. However, she was not interested in him, she was far more interested in another man. A man by the name of Sergei. There's passages in this dairy the prove that Strahd was once just a normal mortal man before he became a vampire.
Now as a vampire, there's only one thing that Strahd seems to fear. He mentions Sergei brought a sword into this land. A sword that Strahd mentions as being 'cursed', and 'vile'. A sword that he 'loathes' like sunlight.
The book is worthless after all. The sword is what we truly want."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Bral shakes his head turning to Keldon, "No, I don't think it was a trick. This book has value for Strahd. It looks like it was his diary from when he was still human. I don't think that Strahd wants the fact he was a human to be public knowledge. There is one thing we have learnt from this book, the name Sergei.
At any rate, we should keep moving. If Strahd truly is after this book, it will only be a matter of time before his attention turns to this town. We put the people at risk by just by staying here."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"We also know where he recieved his bower from." Robin speaks up. "Or at least that there is some place, somehow related to amber, which is where he went to get the power he has today."
Thorn raises an eyebrow. "There's a place called The Amber Temple. That's likely what the book is referencing."
As you continue to discuss, a half-elf walks by your table and drops a note next to Bral. He purposely bumps into you and apologies. "Sorry friend, I didn't mean to do that. Just tell the server that Rictavio will pay for your drinks."
He then leaves.
Bral if you open the note, here's what it reads.
I've heard you made it to Barovia and that you've incurred Strahd's ire. I can help you. Just meet me at my wagon. It's at the stockyard on the eastern part of town.
Out of curiosity, Bral opens the note and reads the message inside. The name Dr. Rudolpho Van Richten brings back the final moments that Bral had with his master before arriving in this land. He quickly checks his pockets to make sure that he still had the message that his master had given him to pass on to the doctor. He then closes the message and places it in his pocket without letting anyone else see its contents.
"It seems that we are gaining new goals each passing moment. Attempting to find Tatyana and the sword, possibly finding Sergei, and defeating Strahd. Exploring this Amber Temple might be too much of a distraction."
He then puts the Tome away before standing up.
"You all stay here, I need to take a walk to clear my head. I won't be too long."
Bral then leaves the Inn in search of Dr. Rudolpho Van Richten.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Baudric frowns, "Knowledge is always power, even if we don't see it right away. But it does confirm that we need to find this sword, and it seems like the only way to do that is to find his reincarnated love. Strange as it sounds, we need to investigate the toymaker here in town. Should we wait for Bral?"
"It was not your fault." Robin says, sitting next to Bral. "Even if we had run, right off when the bats came, we would not have gotten away before he arrived." She looks to the book. "Can I have a look at that with you? I too would like to know what he is trying to keep out of our hands..."
Bral nods his head, and opens the book.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Bral as you open the book, you lay eyes on the first couple of pages.
Fifty-First Day of Autumn, 1498
I am the Ancient, I am the Land. My beginnings are lost in the darkness of the past. I was the warrior, I was good and just. I thundered across the land like the wrath of a just god, but the war years and the killing years have worn down my soul as the wind wears stone into sand.
Seventh Day of Autumn, 767
Most men walk through life and do not realize that they are already dead. They slouch along with blank faces and empty eyes, trudging forward towards their deaths and each step they take leads them only closer to their graves. I look at them and see only corpses. It is only perhaps one in a hundred who have the spark of life within them, who have the will to shape the world to their will.
And if these other men, these slouching automatons, move only towards death, making no mark on the world other than the marker above their grave, what does it matter when and where they meet their end? Is it not the right of those with the true spark of life, the true will to change the world, to make use of these other men’s lives, of their deaths? They will die either way, but a man with a true will can give those deaths meaning, and can create a better world for those who are yet to come. Is this not virtuous? If they exist at all, is this not the will of the gods?
What's everyone else doing?
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Keldon is scratching his head. “So the ghost didn’t know anything about the sword? I didn’t understand what he wanted.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
Bral looks up from the book turning to Keldon, "No, I believe he does know where the book is. However, he refused to tell us its location unless we helped him by protecting the reincarnation of his dead wife. A task that seems... almost impossible. We don't even have confirmation that the woman is reincarnated."
He then turns his attention back to the book, and turns the page.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Robin, sitting next to Bral, looks over the book with him.
Robin you read what Bral did as well.
As you continue to look through the book, you find the following entries.
First Day of Spring, 768
For years this world has shown me nothing but ugliness—hate and suffering and death and the persistent dark cloud of war hanging over my lands. I feel that I lived for years shrouded by dark mists, never seeing the sun, and it was not until today that its light first shone upon my face.
Tatyana is her name; a simple girl, of the New Blood, without lands or titles or names worthy of mention. But all of that falls away in the light of her beauty. It is not only that she is fair of face and body—although it cannot be denied that she is surpassingly fair, a rose among weeds in this desolate land. No, Tatyana is not only lovely, she shines with a pure light, a beauty of spirit that I have never witnessed before. Her kindness, her nature—gentle, but at times surprisingly fierce, her quick mind and quicker wit, and her pure joy—she is everything that one could want of a woman, everything that one could want of a wife. I feel that I have been searching all of my life, without realizing that I searched, for Tatyana alone, that she alone can fill a void within me that I never recognized but always felt. And I knew as soon as I met her that I would give anything, even if it be my entire kingdom, to have her.
Forty-Fifth Day of Summer, 768
I ride again for war, and pray that this will be the last one that will bind these lands together under my father’s name and under my protection. But I ride now with a new purpose as well. Tatyana. I see her face when I close my eyes, and I know that I ride to war to protect her, to keep her safe, to forge a new world for her. Her favor rests always beside my heart.
Never have I put much stock in prayers. Men make this world for themselves, and receive only what they fight to earn and fight to keep. But when I remember now that Tatyana is praying for me, I feel that I am invincible. I know that a love as strong as mine will not easily be snuffed out, and that I will return to her when the war is won.
Seventy-Third Day of Winter, 768
Of all those in the valley of Barovia, one shines bright above the others. Only one woman is truly worthy to sit by the side of a king. I would call her a queen, a goddess, a shining beacon in a dark world. And yet, she calls me elder, or brother. When I look into her eyes, they reflect another name: death. She sees in me the end of life, the death of the aged. She relishes in her youth, like Sergei, like all children foolish and lucky enough to be ignorant of the darkness of the world. She loves her youth, but I have squandered mine.
Eighty-First Day of Winter, 768
Women have always loved Sergei better than me. Mother, the simpering powder-faced courtiers, even the servants. Women love Sergei because he is kind like a woman, and that is because, like a woman, he has never witnessed the sweet, horrifying, tantalizing darkness of war. He has never sent men to their deaths, has never faced his own death as it rode him down on the back of a dark destrier, has never seen the light go out of a man’s eyes as its corpse slides from the blade of his sword. Men go to war and they become stronger, or they die. And Tatyana does not know that when the darkness falls and all is lost, when the wolves are at the door, she needs a man by her side who has seen the bleakness of war, a man who is willing not only to die for her but also to kill for her. But instead, she has Sergei. And he will die, and then she will die, and I will survive to mourn them alone.
Seventy-Third Day of Spring, 769
I have done what needed to be done. She will be safe. She will be mine. I sorrow to cause her pain, but I have known in my heart what must be done, and I have done it, no matter the cost. Just as I always have.
Fourteenth Day of Summer, 769
My Tatyana has fallen ill. She has always been of a fragile constitution, and it seems the shock she has experienced has put a heavy strain upon her. I regret that it could not have been avoided, but I know that this was the only way.
I called in my best doctors but they said that they could do nothing for her, that she had given up the will to live. I brought them below and pressed them further, encouraged them to think creatively. Perhaps I pressed them too hard, and now they can do nothing for her. I must seek another solution. Time, as always, races against me.
Thirty-Sixth Day of Summer, 769
I found the answer. A way to save my Tatyana, to keep her with me. I traveled to the edges of my lands and found there something lost, something hidden away, preserved in Amber, magicks thought too dark for any man to know. These magicks held the secret, the secret I needed to save her. And, perhaps, in saving her, to save myself. My youth has been squandered, my life given for my people, for my land. I have paid every coin that I had, and found myself to have purchased a fool’s prize.
I have never feared death, but time, time has been always my greatest enemy. The years slip away from me, and as a moment passes, I look in the mirror and realize that I have become old. After all that I have given, am I not worthy of a measure of time, time to rest, time to love?
There are costs, I know. Those have been made clear to me. Never again shall I walk in sunlight, never shall I know true sleep, food will be but dust in my mouth. Holy ground will be forbidden me as well, but the gods have never done me much good. And what are these costs, any of them, beside Tatyana’s life, her love, for eternity?
Already, my soul is forfeit. There is too dark a stain upon it to ever be undone. But, perhaps, with more blood on hands already too red to notice any difference, I will be able to keep her with me, forever.
Forty-Second Day of Summer, 769
I knew my memory would hold forever, but I did not know what horrors it would hold. Forever, I will clearly see the sight of her body, lying broken and lifeless on those rocks far below. I went to her, and as I reached her, the sky split open and I heard a dark voice. “The promise has been kept.” This is not how it was intended! In the halls of Ravenloft, below, a woman was giving birth. Twins are lucky, the elves say, and what could be more pure of soul than children just brought into this world without any chance to sully themselves. Two of them, one for her and one for me.
I did not even have the chance to bury her body. The mists swirled down and took her away, and as they did they closed in around me. I could feel them tightening on my throat. But I also felt something new, a power coursing through my veins. Strength. Vitality. “No!” I roared, and I reached out and I tore at the mists and as her soul tried to float away from me I tied it down, I tied it to this land. If I am trapped here, then so is she. It may take me one year or a thousand, but I will find her and I will bind her to me. I am here for eternity, but so is she. We have all of the time in the world.
Seventh Day of Winter, 1028
I have come to know my new life, as the years have passed by, wearing down the land, reshaping the world, but never touching me. Vampyr is my new name. Still I lust for life and youth, and I curse the living that took them from me. Even the sun is against me. It is the sun and its light that I fear the most, but little else can harm me now. Even a stake through the heart would not kill me, despite what some might tell you. But the sword, that cursed sword that Sergei brought to this land! I must dispose of that vile weapon. I loathe it as I loathe the sunlight.
I have hunted many years for Tatyana. I have found and lost her countless times. Yet, time and time again, she eludes my grasp. The memory of her face haunts me, taunting me, tantalizing me. What would it take to finally bind her to me?
Long ago, my father rebuilt the walls of Castle Ravenloft. Now, I have made a new home for myself, far beneath its walls. I live among the dead and sleep beneath the very stones of this hollow castle. I shall seal shut the walls of the stairs that none may disturb me. If ever I fall, I must return to that dread box, that constant reminder that life is not to be mine. Each time I fall, I am reborn, and each time my mind grows darker. I must find Tatyana. I must have her, or all has been for naught.
Strahd von Zarovich
Ez turns to Keldon. "He wanted us to find someone who looks like Tatyana, just like his dead wife."
The dragonborn finishes his set a table of women at their seats cheer.
Another woman in a black dress walks over to the table. "What are we having this evening?"
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Baudric thinks back to the strange vision he'd had talking to the ghost and turns to the woman, "Water please, thank you. Also, does the name 'Blinksy' mean anything to you?"
She smiles. "He's a beloved toymaker here in Valkalli, his shop is across the street. We haven't seen him lately though. I hope he's alright."
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Once Bral has finished reading he slams it shut and curses, "This book has confirmed what we already knew. Strahd was obsessed with this woman, Tatyana. However, she was not interested in him, she was far more interested in another man. A man by the name of Sergei. There's passages in this dairy the prove that Strahd was once just a normal mortal man before he became a vampire.
Now as a vampire, there's only one thing that Strahd seems to fear. He mentions Sergei brought a sword into this land. A sword that Strahd mentions as being 'cursed', and 'vile'. A sword that he 'loathes' like sunlight.
The book is worthless after all. The sword is what we truly want."
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Thorn sighs and holds his hand out. "May I read it? There might be something in here I can find."
As he does this, the woman leaves the table. "I'll be here with food and wine."
Ez taps her fingers as she leaves to talk to the dragonborn.
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
“Oh, so Strahd wanted the book because it was a trick… he wanted us to think there was something valuable in it.” Keldon smiles like he gets it.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Bral shakes his head turning to Keldon, "No, I don't think it was a trick. This book has value for Strahd. It looks like it was his diary from when he was still human. I don't think that Strahd wants the fact he was a human to be public knowledge. There is one thing we have learnt from this book, the name Sergei.
At any rate, we should keep moving. If Strahd truly is after this book, it will only be a matter of time before his attention turns to this town. We put the people at risk by just by staying here."
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"We also know where he recieved his bower from." Robin speaks up. "Or at least that there is some place, somehow related to amber, which is where he went to get the power he has today."
Thorn raises an eyebrow. "There's a place called The Amber Temple. That's likely what the book is referencing."
As you continue to discuss, a half-elf walks by your table and drops a note next to Bral. He purposely bumps into you and apologies. "Sorry friend, I didn't mean to do that. Just tell the server that Rictavio will pay for your drinks."
He then leaves.
Bral if you open the note, here's what it reads.
I've heard you made it to Barovia and that you've incurred Strahd's ire. I can help you. Just meet me at my wagon. It's at the stockyard on the eastern part of town.
- Dr. Rudolpho Van Richten
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Out of curiosity, Bral opens the note and reads the message inside. The name Dr. Rudolpho Van Richten brings back the final moments that Bral had with his master before arriving in this land. He quickly checks his pockets to make sure that he still had the message that his master had given him to pass on to the doctor. He then closes the message and places it in his pocket without letting anyone else see its contents.
"It seems that we are gaining new goals each passing moment. Attempting to find Tatyana and the sword, possibly finding Sergei, and defeating Strahd. Exploring this Amber Temple might be too much of a distraction."
He then puts the Tome away before standing up.
"You all stay here, I need to take a walk to clear my head. I won't be too long."
Bral then leaves the Inn in search of Dr. Rudolpho Van Richten.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
As Bral leaves, the rest of you notice the half-elf chat for a few moments before walking out the door.
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Baudric frowns, "Knowledge is always power, even if we don't see it right away. But it does confirm that we need to find this sword, and it seems like the only way to do that is to find his reincarnated love. Strange as it sounds, we need to investigate the toymaker here in town. Should we wait for Bral?"
Robin shrugs and relaxes back in her seat. She is just happy to not be dead at a vampire lord's hands right now.
Keldon looks at each of them. “I’ll do whatever you’d like to do.”
Paladin - warforged - orange