As the evening grows dark, you see a dozen men and women gathered around a crackling bonfire. The folk are in good spirits. A few of them sing and dance around the fire while others find happiness in their flasks and wineskins. Three barrel-topped wagons are parked at odd angles. Tied to a nearby tree, grazing, are half a dozen draft horses wearing bright coats with bangles and tassels.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Keteria nods to the fire, "Maybe we start with that group there... they seem in a good mood. I find that often helps negotiations."
She walks over smiling and says, "Greetings. I am Keteria, a servant of Ilmater and Torm. My companions and I would like to speak with your leaders and offer your group assistance."
Persuasion: (with advantage if anyone assists? otherwise, please just take first roll) 11
5 out of the group turn their heads, and start walking towards you. An old male human is at the front. Behind him are a female human, and a male human. On each of their sides, stand two people. Malkador and Markus. Tell everyone who they would see standing at the ends of the line.
The group sees a young man, probably in his late teens. His hair long past the shoulders, unkept and wild. A black crown of thorns lay upon his head. He has a fierce look about him as his red eyes glare at you all. He wears a vest made of fur, his pants jagged and torn. His feet bare, his skin dirty, and his nails long.
The group sees a large and well equipped dragonborn, mostly likely a guard by the way he keeps his eyes trained on those approaching. His scales are amethyst in color with a few of them discolored in the light of the campfire due to a few scattered scars.
'Let me know if a fight is unavoidable. I will find a place to support with my bow.' Malkador says into the minds of those that were in the caravan, using his Psionic Mind.
Keteria quickly adds, "Having helped the healers on the front-lines of many conflicts, I have seen many displaced from war and strife. Your group seems happy enough tonight, I am glad to see. What brings you to Daggerford and from where do you hail? If we know a little more about you, perhaps we can determine how we can best serve you?"
The old man laughs: "I am Stanimir, and these are my children, Damia, and Ratka. I have a story to tell all of you. First you listen, then we go." Stanimir then walks to the logs by the campfire, sitting down. The four others follow him. The old man gestures for you to follow.
Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, and a prayer of thanksgiving to Helm, Van Saer follows the others to the campfire...Along the way he makes the motions of a Bless for Malkdor, Markus, and ST4-B13, needing only the proper spoken word to cast it...
(Bless - You bless up to three creatures of your choice within range. Whenever a target makes an attack roll or a saving throw before the spell ends, the target can roll a d4 and add the number rolled to the attack roll or saving throw.)
(Note - not cast yet, however Van has used the spell slot, and he has to maintain concentration from this point on until the spell ends or is broken)
Stanimir fills his mouth with wine, then spits into the fire. The flames turn from orange to green. As they dance and sway, a dark shape appears in the bonfire’s core.
“We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten—a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads.”
The dark shape in the fire takes the form of a man being knocked from his horse, a spear piercing his side.
Stanimir continues. “One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn’t say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn’t give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves.”
Deep in the bonfire, you see the dark figure standing with sword drawn, fighting off a host of shadowy shapes.
“This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said, ‘I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.’”
The figure in the dancing fire vanquishes its final foe, then disperses in a cloud of smoke and embers.
Stanimir’s face becomes a somber mask. “A curse has befallen our noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain. We’ve traveled far and wide to find heroes such as yourselves to end our dread lord’s curse and put his troubled soul to rest. Our leader, Madam Eva, knows all. Will you return to Barovia with us and speak with her?”
Malkador leans against one of the wagons, only visible at the very edges of the fire but with a good view of Stanamir's people and the newcomers. While he does not have any of his weapons at the ready he is clearly tensed to spring into action at the first sign of provocation.
A tragic tale, to be sure, and not one for Wednesday night at the local, mind you....an epic journey to return a lost prince to his homeland, capped off by that awful sinking queazy feeling in the belly that you may have picked picked the wrong side? I have an inkling of how you feel, Sir Stanimir...her Grace sent us out here to drive you off at sword point, up to and including burning your caravans. Her idea of mercy being to let us have until daybreak before we light the torches...I'll go with you to speak with Madam Eva, as long as we away ere the break of day...
As the evening grows dark, you see a dozen men and women gathered around a crackling bonfire. The folk are in good spirits. A few of them sing and dance around the fire while others find happiness in their flasks and wineskins. Three barrel-topped wagons are parked at odd angles. Tied to a nearby tree, grazing, are half a dozen draft horses wearing bright coats with bangles and tassels.
-Archie
Keteria nods to the fire, "Maybe we start with that group there... they seem in a good mood. I find that often helps negotiations."
She walks over smiling and says, "Greetings. I am Keteria, a servant of Ilmater and Torm. My companions and I would like to speak with your leaders and offer your group assistance."
Persuasion: (with advantage if anyone assists? otherwise, please just take first roll) 11
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
5 out of the group turn their heads, and start walking towards you. An old male human is at the front. Behind him are a female human, and a male human. On each of their sides, stand two people. Malkador and Markus. Tell everyone who they would see standing at the ends of the line.
-Archie
The group sees a young man, probably in his late teens. His hair long past the shoulders, unkept and wild. A black crown of thorns lay upon his head. He has a fierce look about him as his red eyes glare at you all. He wears a vest made of fur, his pants jagged and torn. His feet bare, his skin dirty, and his nails long.
“How can you help us?”
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAThe group sees a large and well equipped dragonborn, mostly likely a guard by the way he keeps his eyes trained on those approaching. His scales are amethyst in color with a few of them discolored in the light of the campfire due to a few scattered scars.
'Let me know if a fight is unavoidable. I will find a place to support with my bow.' Malkador says into the minds of those that were in the caravan, using his Psionic Mind.
https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D29680431/
If Markus is allowed to reply back telepathically “Very we’ll, but these folk seem different from the last ones.”
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAThe half elf looks around the campfire at the people, their belongs, and carts, trying to get a feel of whether they are refugees, nomads, bandits...
Hello to all of you, I am Van Saer, priest of Helm. We come in peace and offer our services as mediators and facilitators...
Insight 18
Keteria quickly adds, "Having helped the healers on the front-lines of many conflicts, I have seen many displaced from war and strife. Your group seems happy enough tonight, I am glad to see. What brings you to Daggerford and from where do you hail? If we know a little more about you, perhaps we can determine how we can best serve you?"
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Smedrick:
They just seem like travelers.
-Archie
The old man laughs: "I am Stanimir, and these are my children, Damia, and Ratka. I have a story to tell all of you. First you listen, then we go." Stanimir then walks to the logs by the campfire, sitting down. The four others follow him. The old man gestures for you to follow.
-Archie
Keeping his eyes on Keteria and Van Markus scoffs and turns following Stanimr to the campfire.
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiABreathing a quiet sigh of relief, and a prayer of thanksgiving to Helm, Van Saer follows the others to the campfire...Along the way he makes the motions of a Bless for Malkdor, Markus, and ST4-B13, needing only the proper spoken word to cast it...
(Bless - You bless up to three creatures of your choice within range. Whenever a target makes an attack roll or a saving throw before the spell ends, the target can roll a d4 and add the number rolled to the attack roll or saving throw.)
(Note - not cast yet, however Van has used the spell slot, and he has to maintain concentration from this point on until the spell ends or is broken)
ST4-B13 follows behind Keteria and Van; looming behind them when they take a seat and watches the crowd before them.
Be excellent to each other, and roll for initiative dudes!
Stanimir fills his mouth with wine, then spits into the fire. The flames turn from orange to green. As they dance and sway, a dark shape appears in the bonfire’s core.
“We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten—a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads.”
The dark shape in the fire takes the form of a man being knocked from his horse, a spear piercing his side.
Stanimir continues. “One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn’t say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn’t give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves.”
Deep in the bonfire, you see the dark figure standing with sword drawn, fighting off a host of shadowy shapes.
“This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said, ‘I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.’”
The figure in the dancing fire vanquishes its final foe, then disperses in a cloud of smoke and embers.
Stanimir’s face becomes a somber mask. “A curse has befallen our noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain. We’ve traveled far and wide to find heroes such as yourselves to end our dread lord’s curse and put his troubled soul to rest. Our leader, Madam Eva, knows all. Will you return to Barovia with us and speak with her?”
-Archie
Malkador leans against one of the wagons, only visible at the very edges of the fire but with a good view of Stanamir's people and the newcomers. While he does not have any of his weapons at the ready he is clearly tensed to spring into action at the first sign of provocation.
A tragic tale, to be sure, and not one for Wednesday night at the local, mind you....an epic journey to return a lost prince to his homeland, capped off by that awful sinking queazy feeling in the belly that you may have picked picked the wrong side? I have an inkling of how you feel, Sir Stanimir...her Grace sent us out here to drive you off at sword point, up to and including burning your caravans. Her idea of mercy being to let us have until daybreak before we light the torches...I'll go with you to speak with Madam Eva, as long as we away ere the break of day...
At the mention of “return to Barovia” Markus faces saddens and he looks down in defeat.
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiA"I've got time, I s'pose. But... I don't know nothin' about curses." Rethor scratches his chin.
Paladin - warforged - orange
"Aha, and there lies the problem, for you see, this journey will take more than a couple days, and we must leave now if we are to get there on time."
-Archie
O I see Sir Stanimer.
Yes, well, might we have a moment or two to ourselves to discuss?
Van Staer huddles together with his friends...What do you guys think? Is going with them a good idea? or am I misunderstanding the situation?