As the evening sets in the party are shown to a rather large, plain-looking tent. Inside it is plushly decorated with all manner of throws and cushions, a smoking pipe can be found in the corner, as well as bowls of exotic-looking fruits. The tent is spacious enough for each party member to comfortably sleep without intruding on the confines of anyone else. In addition, the bedroom areas have been partially segmented off with sheets, affording some level of privacy.
Evening
Reggie Clover
Those that check on Reggie Clover find that he is fast asleep within the medical tent. "Seemed to be absolutely exhausted,"Nathaniel explains, "poor fellow". His condition does not appear to have deteriorated since earlier.
Toska + Claude
Claude is forthcoming in his eagerness to help the party - "Beats hidin' in 'ere. Y'were righ' t'ask fer me 'elp. Maud an' I'll keep yer safe, no worries."
However, as Meresaa approaches Toska's wagon she notices that one of the windows has been smashed. Toska sits on the steps of the wagon, fists bloody, with her head slumped. "Bloody lies!" she shouts to herself, too angry for tears. "Don't need no bloody potions,"she curses to herself before slamming her fist down on the step beside her leaving a bloody mark.
Night
Sleep is quick coming to those that settle down for the night, likely drained by the revelations of the day. Vivid dreams filled with colour enter the minds of our party; large winding rivers of blues and purples, strange trees unlike any you have ever seen twisted and all shades of green, fields of orange and red. A figure stands and beckons, a smirk on his face, he has the legs and horns of a goat, yet his body is a man's. A hushed voice enters your mind then. "SAHMYR AMI", it whispers. You hear laughter then, it is loud and joyous, the man turns to you. His facade shifts and changes, leaving a man covered head-to-toe in tattoos. Those that met him know instantly who he is - The Illuminated Man.
The owl circles around the Carnival; the main tent seems lively but otherwise, the place is quiet.
Time passes. Meanwhile, you slumber your mind caught up in a vivid dream. Thumbtack notices something moving from the medical tent. A white shape, pale, almost unseen, a wisp. GHOST?!
You rouse from your dream. Once more the familiar relays the message to its master - GHOST?! You can sense its excitement building. Swooping low, an image enters your mind. You see a ghostly figure floating through the air travelling southwards; its visage bears a likeness to Harold Priestly. "Follow?!" Thumbtack asks uncertainly.
((If anyone wants to go back and retrospectively 'fill in gaps' that's fine - for example, Meresaa may well want to converse with Toska or decide against it.))
Nick Nack is decadent in his enjoyment of the cushy coverings, rolling the top of the covers up to his ears and around his neck. The desire to get snuggly is so aggressive in its attempt that His toes stick out of the bottom of the covers. They wiggle whenever he has dreamy images come across his internal gaze.
He wakes early, an hour or so before dawn, and walks out of the tent to a bench where he watches the stars fall as the sun rises. He claps loudly when the show ends, those rainbow flows of transitional color now faded into the brightness of day. “Bravo, bravo.” He stands up and goes about his morning routine.
Faila is visibly relieved to see Reggie doing well, and thanks Nathaniel for his vigilant care of his patients. She checks on Nancy, too, and if no one needs anything from her, she accompanies their hosts to the tent. The thick canvas shuts out a great deal of the wind and cold, but such a large space stays cold regardless. Faila looks at the bowls of fruit with a touch of greed, but her belly is still very full from dinner, and the cold temperature does not inspire an appetite for fruit.
She wraps up tightly in her Skurra cloak, and finds a corner to curl up and bury herself under a collection of furs and pillows. She sleeps hard and dreams a lot. In her dream, she chases the goat-legged man over the purple hills, but he is faster than her, getting farther and farther away. It agitates her dream-self enough that she takes hold of that little thought, or thread, that is always resting against her mind and bothering her. That thought, when she thinks it, is like a key that unlocks a whole vista in her mind of a terrifying world, a world of blood and cramped time. All scales, claws, and bright feathers, her limbs elongate and she soars over the colorful landscape, quickly catching the goat-legged man. Her jaws snarl and her claws reach out, no longer able to distinguish interest from prey, but then the goat-man changes shape, covered with dancing tattoos, and the hunt instinct is abruptly snuffed out as her animal-self responds with a colorful display of its own, and a trilling musical cry. Sahmyr Ami!
Then she wakes up. It's early morning, just before dawn. Faila fights her way out of the furs, panting a bit, and, looking at her hands, is relieved to see them dark, smooth, human, normal. Pink fingernails, not bloodstained claws. Two thoughts are in her mind. Fire. Wrapping up in the cloak, she steals quietly through the tent, trying not to be noticed. And the second thought reminds her of itself as she sees the bowls of fruit again. Food. Surreptitiously she takes some, removing it to her pack before heading out into the cold.
The owl circles around the Carnival; the main tent seems lively but otherwise, the place is quiet.
Time passes. Meanwhile, you slumber your mind caught up in a vivid dream. Thumbtack notices something moving from the medical tent. A white shape, pale, almost unseen, a wisp. GHOST?!
You rouse from your dream. Once more the familiar relays the message to its master - GHOST?! You can sense its excitement building. Swooping low, an image enters your mind. You see a ghostly figure floating through the air travelling southwards; its visage bears a likeness to Harold Priestly. "Follow?!" Thumbtack asks uncertainly.
...
((Back in the middle of the night. I think Erma would be aware of this but not the others))
Nikita breaks her trance with its strange visions and stands up suddenly, jarred back to consciousness by Thumbtack's message. Knowing that her owl familiar can't go more than 100' away without losing telepathic contact, Nikita grabs her rapier, longbow and arrows. If she sees Ermasnietsz obviously awake and paying attention, she will say "My familiar saw something. What appears to be the ghost of Harold, a patient killed by the parasites, exiting the medical tent. I am planning to briefly follow to find where it is going and communicate if possible." Her expression leaves it open that Ermasnietsz can come with her or not, it's up to her.
She tries to stealthily walk through the camp in Thumbtack's direction, tracking the ghost and which way it is moving. Yes, follow but stay within range of me. How fast is it going and can she catch up to it to perhaps communicate with it? Is it moving west towards where Nikita would think Prospect might be? She will not follow the ghost far if she cannot catch it, just determine its direction, returning to sleep afterwards.
((Let me know if Stealth, Perception or any other rolls are needed.))
Meresaa approaches quietly and kneels in the grass a few feet in front of Toska, resting on both knees with hands in her lap, so that her eyes are on a level with the half-orc's.
Fixing her with a long unblinking gaze, studying the woman for several protracted moments, the strange blue woman finally speaks slowly and quietly.
"What of potions, then? I'm quite fond of most I've tried. They're really quite incredible, aren't they? So many different kinds to heal and harm; to strengthen and weaken; to grow and shrink; to enhance and detract. But are we any less for using what tools we have at our disposal? Is Mizzix of the Izmagnus to be faulted for using her incredible mechanical walker? Am I to think that Ral Zarek himself would be any less accomplished without his accumulator??" She gives a soft, knowing chuckle, clearly thinking these names should mean something to the distraught Toska.
"No, potions are like weapons. Anyone can use them but it takes a mind at work," she touches her temple with a long, slender finger, "and a heart of steel to put them to any effective use." She reaches out and points that same finger to Toska's chest.
She calmly stands back to her feet. "Whether potions or weapons or tools or wonderous magical gizmos, only those with the necessary faculties can use them well. It was clear from our first meeting that you're such a woman. One who will do what needs to be done no matter the tools at hand. We have need of such a woman tomorrow when we go to Prospect. We don't know what we'll find there but, at the very least, we hope to rescue anyone else they're holding." Meresaa lets the idea simmer for a moment. "I hope we can we count on your strength, whatever the source, to be there to help us." Turning to leave she adds, "Sleep well, Toska of Carnival," and glances back with a smile before leaving to settle in for the night.
Boyd says his good nights to his companions. He looks uncertain, yet he hasn't given any indication of anything beside resolve to see this through. "Tomorrow Prospect then, eh? And we'll see what all this mess has been about."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ermasnietsz listens to the details of the haunting experience from Nikita. She doesn't seem to believe most of the description, so she curls her lips into a sneers and changes her resting position... remaining motionless on the ground face-down.
But, when Nikita leaves the bonfire area, she collects a pair of daggers and her wand, then starts following her immediately as stealthily as possible. She's having difficulty in discerning the state of the surrounding without darkvision, so she's entirely dependent on other senses.
Nick readies for the morning, then as the others awaken approaches quietly… “I’m gonna head into town; if anyone wants to join… I won’t tell the council about this yet, since I don’t want to set off any agents with nefarious plans against us, but might stop by a shop or two… do we want to meet up somewhere in a few hours? It’s sunrise now, perhaps we meet 1 or 2 hours before high noon at the end of town that leads towards prospect”.
Nick is open to suggestions, and also preparing to head into town himself; not sure they will be getting back to the carnival tonight for rest, he brings the bedroll provided.
Ooc for purchases:
Nick nack seeks also a pair of manacles or two for interrogations maybe a mirror, possibly at the smithy or other place as needed, and some other equipment to deal with possible extra planar monsters (gloves!?) lol… a concept he is wrestling with as an enemy, and how to manage them
Once the night's events have been resolved, Meresaa will accompany Nick Nack into town. She hasn't been there yet and is curious. If the opportunity presents itself, she'll keep an eye out for leather gloves that fit her long hands (like Nathaniel's) and a heavy leather apron in case they need to handle any other sagacitas. Any magical shops or booths along the way would also attract her attention in looking for whatever sort of potions she can find (after the conversation with Toska reminded her) and generally any other enchanted knickknacks (I'll see myself out).
Metabrain wants a breastplate or magical armor but I don't think Meresaa would be thinking about that.
Faila is devouring her spoils of fruit outside the tent by the nearest Skurra fire she can find. If she's in a position to see Nick Nack and Meresaa head to town, she picks herself up and scampers along after them. She has no idea what to buy, but would get leather gloves as well if Meresaa does (the sagacitas still heavy on her mind), and any potions the others recommend. She might also pick up some extra layers to stay warm if anything looks like clothing she recognizes or if any merchant is especially persuasive.
“ Maresaa ! Faila ! “ Nick is glad not to be alone, feeling good to be alive today, his mind more settled after a good night sleep…
“So I’ve been thinking, and… well w things you all were playing with, they look gross. So I’m hoping we can find gloves… maybe even single use ones!” He chuckles, imagining a culture so wasteful as to invent such a thing… “and after that I have some armor on order at the smithy! Hope it fits my figure” Nick jokingly raises one of his hips enticingly before returning to his normal pace. "Finally I had a weird dream about meeting more strange beings that might need to answer some questions, and I hope we can find some manacles!… anything else I’m forgetting about?” He looks forward to surprising Nikita with her studded.
"I had a strange dream too," Faila says. "About a satyr that I couldn't catch that turned into a painted man when I caught him." She looks at her smooth and clawless hands, wrapped again with strips of wool scrap for warmth. "Gloves would be good. Those things are spiny. I would use gloves more than once. Maybe I can find some more warm clothes to wear." The weight of the coin purse on her belt reminds her, with some discomfort, how much gold she is carrying. It would be good to turn it into something more useful.
"Hm," Meresaa intones thoughtfully. "I've never put much stock in dreams but you say you dreamt of a satyr who turned into a painted man? Could it be that he was tattooed rather than painted? Was everything awash in vibrant colors in such a way that could never exist here? Some unintelligible whispering?" Her brow furrows. "If so, that's nearly identical to my own dream and shared dreams never bode well. Perhaps we should speak to the Illuminated Man before we stray too far from camp..."
"Yes, that's exactly how it was," Faila says, nodding. "He could have been tattooed. It's hard to tell in a dream." She looks at Nick. "What did you dream?"
((After waking up, Nikita too would confirm having brief, similar visions during her trance. Other than the studded leather at the Dwarven Anvil which Nick Nack kindly ordered, she'd probably want healing potions, if available, at the Weekly Market. And perhaps 2 shortswords, a crowbar, flasks of oil and maybe some caltrops. She's still in the alternate timeline in the middle of the night, though, chasing ghosts apparently... Apologies if I'm holding things up there but I think the ball is in the @DM's court there?))
“Me? Dream?… I dreamt… that we don’t die this week…
how about, if you all can help make that come true, I’ll tell you one dream a week for each week we survive?” Nick chuckles at his bad we might die joke…
“Honestly I’m concentrated on my deep suspicion that someone on the council needs to be…” he makes the throat cutting motion, “…andbetter then before us is all I’m saying.”
Nick continues toward town, paying close attention to any people he recognizes on the way.
Ermasnietsz quietly counts the number of gold pieces, then divides the coins into three equal portions... six hundred and sixty six gold pieces in each section can be found.
When she overhears the conversation regarding a dream and the possible sighting of the Illuminated Man, she will saunter near the cluster and propose:"Did anyone talk with Claude-Maud and Toska? They will be joining us today and probably fight alongside us. Shouldn't you ask them if they're in need of something?"
"Last time, when I checked on Claude, he didn't seem stable. I fear that he might be suicidal!"
Suddenly, she removes her outerwear to reveal the intricately drawn artwork and points her fingers towards it: "Does anyone recognize the painting? Faila?"
((Similarly, Nikita is ready to go in the morning unless something has happened in the middle of the night to prevent it. Nighttime: post 365 - spoiler-tagged, still waiting to be resolved along with Ermasnietsz and her post 368.))
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Toska
Meresaa - Toska grunts as you go on about potions. She shakes her head as you explain that they are simply tools to be used. When you lean in to point to her chest she snatches your hand."Don't you condescend t' me," she barks. "This was betrayal. She put 'em in m' food without m' knowledge." She pushes your hand away.
Toska stands. "I'll help you wit' this Prospect. Bu' wha' I do, I do for the Carnival. I do for Billy. Not for you... or her." She flexes her muscles a little, out of habit. "No potions. You're welcome to 'em. I'll manage on m' own." She watches as you leave for the night, clearly still bitter at Isolde.
Night-time Escapades
Thumbtack continues to follow the ghost of Harold Priestly. It moves, seemingly unaware of its surroundings, to the south. As Harold drifts past Hoolwatch Tower, Thumbtack notices several other ethereal spirits coming from the northeast; a spirit halfling woman comes into view, followed by a spirit human gentleman in ghostly noble clothing, one after the other they drift.
Nikita and Ermasnietsz move swiftly yet stealthily reach the tower in time to see the last of the ghostly figures floating in the direction of the barracks. Thumbtack, flapping furiously to catch up, watches as the spirits move past the barracks and towards the City Gate. The familiar stops and remains within range of Nikita.
Attack: 14 Damage: 7
Unfortunately, the owl-familiar does not notice the arrow whizzing through the air until it is too late. With a dull thud, it pierces the familiar's chest and there is a puff of feathers. Though it happens in moments, a brief telepathic cry of pain rings through Nikita's mind. It would appear that the arrow came from the barracks.
End of Day #1 - Carnival Tents
As the evening sets in the party are shown to a rather large, plain-looking tent. Inside it is plushly decorated with all manner of throws and cushions, a smoking pipe can be found in the corner, as well as bowls of exotic-looking fruits. The tent is spacious enough for each party member to comfortably sleep without intruding on the confines of anyone else. In addition, the bedroom areas have been partially segmented off with sheets, affording some level of privacy.
Evening
Reggie Clover
Those that check on Reggie Clover find that he is fast asleep within the medical tent. "Seemed to be absolutely exhausted," Nathaniel explains, "poor fellow". His condition does not appear to have deteriorated since earlier.
Toska + Claude
Claude is forthcoming in his eagerness to help the party - "Beats hidin' in 'ere. Y'were righ' t'ask fer me 'elp. Maud an' I'll keep yer safe, no worries."
However, as Meresaa approaches Toska's wagon she notices that one of the windows has been smashed. Toska sits on the steps of the wagon, fists bloody, with her head slumped. "Bloody lies!" she shouts to herself, too angry for tears. "Don't need no bloody potions," she curses to herself before slamming her fist down on the step beside her leaving a bloody mark.
Night
Sleep is quick coming to those that settle down for the night, likely drained by the revelations of the day. Vivid dreams filled with colour enter the minds of our party; large winding rivers of blues and purples, strange trees unlike any you have ever seen twisted and all shades of green, fields of orange and red. A figure stands and beckons, a smirk on his face, he has the legs and horns of a goat, yet his body is a man's. A hushed voice enters your mind then. "SAHMYR AMI", it whispers. You hear laughter then, it is loud and joyous, the man turns to you. His facade shifts and changes, leaving a man covered head-to-toe in tattoos. Those that met him know instantly who he is - The Illuminated Man.
Nikita/Thumbtack's Perception check:
The owl circles around the Carnival; the main tent seems lively but otherwise, the place is quiet.
Time passes. Meanwhile, you slumber your mind caught up in a vivid dream. Thumbtack notices something moving from the medical tent. A white shape, pale, almost unseen, a wisp. GHOST?!
You rouse from your dream. Once more the familiar relays the message to its master - GHOST?! You can sense its excitement building. Swooping low, an image enters your mind. You see a ghostly figure floating through the air travelling southwards; its visage bears a likeness to Harold Priestly. "Follow?!" Thumbtack asks uncertainly.
((If anyone wants to go back and retrospectively 'fill in gaps' that's fine - for example, Meresaa may well want to converse with Toska or decide against it.))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Nick Nack is decadent in his enjoyment of the cushy coverings, rolling the top of the covers up to his ears and around his neck. The desire to get snuggly is so aggressive in its attempt that His toes stick out of the bottom of the covers. They wiggle whenever he has dreamy images come across his internal gaze.
He wakes early, an hour or so before dawn, and walks out of the tent to a bench where he watches the stars fall as the sun rises. He claps loudly when the show ends, those rainbow flows of transitional color now faded into the brightness of day. “Bravo, bravo.” He stands up and goes about his morning routine.
Faila is visibly relieved to see Reggie doing well, and thanks Nathaniel for his vigilant care of his patients. She checks on Nancy, too, and if no one needs anything from her, she accompanies their hosts to the tent. The thick canvas shuts out a great deal of the wind and cold, but such a large space stays cold regardless. Faila looks at the bowls of fruit with a touch of greed, but her belly is still very full from dinner, and the cold temperature does not inspire an appetite for fruit.
She wraps up tightly in her Skurra cloak, and finds a corner to curl up and bury herself under a collection of furs and pillows. She sleeps hard and dreams a lot. In her dream, she chases the goat-legged man over the purple hills, but he is faster than her, getting farther and farther away. It agitates her dream-self enough that she takes hold of that little thought, or thread, that is always resting against her mind and bothering her. That thought, when she thinks it, is like a key that unlocks a whole vista in her mind of a terrifying world, a world of blood and cramped time. All scales, claws, and bright feathers, her limbs elongate and she soars over the colorful landscape, quickly catching the goat-legged man. Her jaws snarl and her claws reach out, no longer able to distinguish interest from prey, but then the goat-man changes shape, covered with dancing tattoos, and the hunt instinct is abruptly snuffed out as her animal-self responds with a colorful display of its own, and a trilling musical cry. Sahmyr Ami!
Then she wakes up. It's early morning, just before dawn. Faila fights her way out of the furs, panting a bit, and, looking at her hands, is relieved to see them dark, smooth, human, normal. Pink fingernails, not bloodstained claws. Two thoughts are in her mind. Fire. Wrapping up in the cloak, she steals quietly through the tent, trying not to be noticed. And the second thought reminds her of itself as she sees the bowls of fruit again. Food. Surreptitiously she takes some, removing it to her pack before heading out into the cold.
Stealth: 7
Sleight of Hand: 11
((Back in the middle of the night. I think Erma would be aware of this but not the others))
Nikita breaks her trance with its strange visions and stands up suddenly, jarred back to consciousness by Thumbtack's message. Knowing that her owl familiar can't go more than 100' away without losing telepathic contact, Nikita grabs her rapier, longbow and arrows. If she sees Ermasnietsz obviously awake and paying attention, she will say "My familiar saw something. What appears to be the ghost of Harold, a patient killed by the parasites, exiting the medical tent. I am planning to briefly follow to find where it is going and communicate if possible." Her expression leaves it open that Ermasnietsz can come with her or not, it's up to her.
She tries to stealthily walk through the camp in Thumbtack's direction, tracking the ghost and which way it is moving. Yes, follow but stay within range of me. How fast is it going and can she catch up to it to perhaps communicate with it? Is it moving west towards where Nikita would think Prospect might be? She will not follow the ghost far if she cannot catch it, just determine its direction, returning to sleep afterwards.
((Let me know if Stealth, Perception or any other rolls are needed.))
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Meresaa approaches quietly and kneels in the grass a few feet in front of Toska, resting on both knees with hands in her lap, so that her eyes are on a level with the half-orc's.
Fixing her with a long unblinking gaze, studying the woman for several protracted moments, the strange blue woman finally speaks slowly and quietly.
"What of potions, then? I'm quite fond of most I've tried. They're really quite incredible, aren't they? So many different kinds to heal and harm; to strengthen and weaken; to grow and shrink; to enhance and detract. But are we any less for using what tools we have at our disposal? Is Mizzix of the Izmagnus to be faulted for using her incredible mechanical walker? Am I to think that Ral Zarek himself would be any less accomplished without his accumulator??" She gives a soft, knowing chuckle, clearly thinking these names should mean something to the distraught Toska.
"No, potions are like weapons. Anyone can use them but it takes a mind at work," she touches her temple with a long, slender finger, "and a heart of steel to put them to any effective use." She reaches out and points that same finger to Toska's chest.
She calmly stands back to her feet. "Whether potions or weapons or tools or wonderous magical gizmos, only those with the necessary faculties can use them well. It was clear from our first meeting that you're such a woman. One who will do what needs to be done no matter the tools at hand. We have need of such a woman tomorrow when we go to Prospect. We don't know what we'll find there but, at the very least, we hope to rescue anyone else they're holding." Meresaa lets the idea simmer for a moment. "I hope we can we count on your strength, whatever the source, to be there to help us." Turning to leave she adds, "Sleep well, Toska of Carnival," and glances back with a smile before leaving to settle in for the night.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Boyd says his good nights to his companions. He looks uncertain, yet he hasn't given any indication of anything beside resolve to see this through. "Tomorrow Prospect then, eh? And we'll see what all this mess has been about."
Ermasnietsz listens to the details of the haunting experience from Nikita. She doesn't seem to believe most of the description, so she curls her lips into a sneers and changes her resting position... remaining motionless on the ground face-down.
But, when Nikita leaves the bonfire area, she collects a pair of daggers and her wand, then starts following her immediately as stealthily as possible. She's having difficulty in discerning the state of the surrounding without darkvision, so she's entirely dependent on other senses.
Dexterity: Stealth 9
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
Nick readies for the morning, then as the others awaken approaches quietly… “I’m gonna head into town; if anyone wants to join… I won’t tell the council about this yet, since I don’t want to set off any agents with nefarious plans against us, but might stop by a shop or two… do we want to meet up somewhere in a few hours? It’s sunrise now, perhaps we meet 1 or 2 hours before high noon at the end of town that leads towards prospect”.
Nick is open to suggestions, and also preparing to head into town himself; not sure they will be getting back to the carnival tonight for rest, he brings the bedroll provided.
Ooc for purchases:
Nick nack seeks also a pair of manacles or two for interrogations maybe a mirror, possibly at the smithy or other place as needed, and some other equipment to deal with possible extra planar monsters (gloves!?) lol… a concept he is wrestling with as an enemy, and how to manage them
Once the night's events have been resolved, Meresaa will accompany Nick Nack into town. She hasn't been there yet and is curious. If the opportunity presents itself, she'll keep an eye out for leather gloves that fit her long hands (like Nathaniel's) and a heavy leather apron in case they need to handle any other sagacitas. Any magical shops or booths along the way would also attract her attention in looking for whatever sort of potions she can find (after the conversation with Toska reminded her) and generally any other enchanted knickknacks (I'll see myself out).
Metabrain wants a breastplate or magical armor but I don't think Meresaa would be thinking about that.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Faila is devouring her spoils of fruit outside the tent by the nearest Skurra fire she can find. If she's in a position to see Nick Nack and Meresaa head to town, she picks herself up and scampers along after them. She has no idea what to buy, but would get leather gloves as well if Meresaa does (the sagacitas still heavy on her mind), and any potions the others recommend. She might also pick up some extra layers to stay warm if anything looks like clothing she recognizes or if any merchant is especially persuasive.
“ Maresaa ! Faila ! “ Nick is glad not to be alone, feeling good to be alive today, his mind more settled after a good night sleep…
“So I’ve been thinking, and… well w things you all were playing with, they look gross. So I’m hoping we can find gloves… maybe even single use ones!” He chuckles, imagining a culture so wasteful as to invent such a thing… “and after that I have some armor on order at the smithy! Hope it fits my figure” Nick jokingly raises one of his hips enticingly before returning to his normal pace. "Finally I had a weird dream about meeting more strange beings that might need to answer some questions, and I hope we can find some manacles!… anything else I’m forgetting about?” He looks forward to surprising Nikita with her studded.
"I had a strange dream too," Faila says. "About a satyr that I couldn't catch that turned into a painted man when I caught him." She looks at her smooth and clawless hands, wrapped again with strips of wool scrap for warmth. "Gloves would be good. Those things are spiny. I would use gloves more than once. Maybe I can find some more warm clothes to wear." The weight of the coin purse on her belt reminds her, with some discomfort, how much gold she is carrying. It would be good to turn it into something more useful.
"Hm," Meresaa intones thoughtfully. "I've never put much stock in dreams but you say you dreamt of a satyr who turned into a painted man? Could it be that he was tattooed rather than painted? Was everything awash in vibrant colors in such a way that could never exist here? Some unintelligible whispering?" Her brow furrows. "If so, that's nearly identical to my own dream and shared dreams never bode well. Perhaps we should speak to the Illuminated Man before we stray too far from camp..."
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
"Yes, that's exactly how it was," Faila says, nodding. "He could have been tattooed. It's hard to tell in a dream." She looks at Nick. "What did you dream?"
((After waking up, Nikita too would confirm having brief, similar visions during her trance. Other than the studded leather at the Dwarven Anvil which Nick Nack kindly ordered, she'd probably want healing potions, if available, at the Weekly Market. And perhaps 2 shortswords, a crowbar, flasks of oil and maybe some caltrops. She's still in the alternate timeline in the middle of the night, though, chasing ghosts apparently... Apologies if I'm holding things up there but I think the ball is in the @DM's court there?))
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
“Me? Dream?… I dreamt… that we don’t die this week…
how about, if you all can help make that come true, I’ll tell you one dream a week for each week we survive?” Nick chuckles at his bad we might die joke…
“Honestly I’m concentrated on my deep suspicion that someone on the council needs to be…” he makes the throat cutting motion, “…and better then before us is all I’m saying.”
Nick continues toward town, paying close attention to any people he recognizes on the way.
Night
Post 368
Morning
Ermasnietsz quietly counts the number of gold pieces, then divides the coins into three equal portions... six hundred and sixty six gold pieces in each section can be found.
When she overhears the conversation regarding a dream and the possible sighting of the Illuminated Man, she will saunter near the cluster and propose:"Did anyone talk with Claude-Maud and Toska? They will be joining us today and probably fight alongside us. Shouldn't you ask them if they're in need of something?"
"Last time, when I checked on Claude, he didn't seem stable. I fear that he might be suicidal!"
Suddenly, she removes her outerwear to reveal the intricately drawn artwork and points her fingers towards it: "Does anyone recognize the painting? Faila?"
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
Meresaa glares at Ermasnietz but says nothing.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
((Similarly, Nikita is ready to go in the morning unless something has happened in the middle of the night to prevent it. Nighttime: post 365 - spoiler-tagged, still waiting to be resolved along with Ermasnietsz and her post 368.))
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Toska
Meresaa - Toska grunts as you go on about potions. She shakes her head as you explain that they are simply tools to be used. When you lean in to point to her chest she snatches your hand. "Don't you condescend t' me," she barks. "This was betrayal. She put 'em in m' food without m' knowledge." She pushes your hand away.
Toska stands. "I'll help you wit' this Prospect. Bu' wha' I do, I do for the Carnival. I do for Billy. Not for you... or her." She flexes her muscles a little, out of habit. "No potions. You're welcome to 'em. I'll manage on m' own." She watches as you leave for the night, clearly still bitter at Isolde.
Night-time Escapades
Thumbtack continues to follow the ghost of Harold Priestly. It moves, seemingly unaware of its surroundings, to the south. As Harold drifts past Hoolwatch Tower, Thumbtack notices several other ethereal spirits coming from the northeast; a spirit halfling woman comes into view, followed by a spirit human gentleman in ghostly noble clothing, one after the other they drift.
Nikita and Ermasnietsz move swiftly yet stealthily reach the tower in time to see the last of the ghostly figures floating in the direction of the barracks. Thumbtack, flapping furiously to catch up, watches as the spirits move past the barracks and towards the City Gate. The familiar stops and remains within range of Nikita.
Unfortunately, the owl-familiar does not notice the arrow whizzing through the air until it is too late. With a dull thud, it pierces the familiar's chest and there is a puff of feathers. Though it happens in moments, a brief telepathic cry of pain rings through Nikita's mind. It would appear that the arrow came from the barracks.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)