So sweet the kiss of the rose, and painful its thorns do sting. Two lovers intertwined and destinies mixed, yet woe to them for Fate's cruel hand twists its knife. An unkindness done, the beautiful Beatrix runs and in her haste that knife, a dagger, she did drop. 

Confused, worried, and still in love, Beatrix's noble lover gives chase. When the mists unfold, will the mystery unveiled bring them to a happily ever after? Or will there never be a tale of more woe than this?

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

Dramatis Personae 

Holly Tavernier (Human Rogue) portrayed by petessius

reserved

/--Evening, X day of the X Month, The Last Omen--/

Holly has resolved herself to take a break. Henris stares up at her with his blue eyes. She recalls a time once when those big orbs were so curious and innocent. While hints of those elements remain, what she sees reflected now is concern replaced by relief. The evening is unnaturally slow in the tavern, no customers have dropped by for hours. That is until the door swings open and a trio of dark haired folk glide across the floor towards the tavern bar. Holly's mother gets to work on their orders as Henris quickly stands to wait on these strangers.

It's hard not to overhear the conversation, which is by all accounts, quite boisterous. "The roads are dangerous tonight. A rolling fog is enveloping the whole valley." One of them says. Holly sees that the trio is comprised of two men and a woman by their presentation. One of the men is quite tall, round, and bald. What he lacks for head hair he more than makes up for with his long and beautiful beard, which has braids nestled in here and there. Its hard not to liken the man as an oversized dwarf. He continues to speak in his loud, booming voice, "I think we might need to set up camp here. Without another hand, no doubt some highway men will make quick work of us..." He shakes his head in annoyance.

"Not very busy in here, is it? Let's make up for the lack of chatter, hmm?" The woman says as she walks takes a seat at the bar. "You, would you like your fortune read?" She pointedly looks at Holly with a grin.

Holly takes the frothing tankards from her mother as they are filled and places them on a serving tray for Henris. She politely smiles at the woman's offer. 

"I'm afraid you're too late. My fortune has already been decided for me by a bossy young brother and conniving mother. But I could tell you yours, if you like," she says, taking a slip of paper from Henris as he returns from taking orders. She holds it up to her forehead and dramatically shuts her eyes. "The spirits say you and your friends will need room and board. And that you are an especially generous tipper." 

Holly chuckles awkwardly at her own joke and blushes self-consciously. She was never as good at talking with the guests as her father had been. She clears her throat and hangs the order up with the others. 

"What brings you and your companions here on an evening like this? Going for a hunt in the morning? The Trickywindle or the Gossamer Grove are local favorites."

The woman of the trio smiles kindly, it seems she is amused by Holly's joke, but not enough to laugh. It feels awkward for a moment, but the other man who has yet to speak steps in, "That we are, my dear. My brother, sister, and I are the most generous sort you'll find, I think."

"Very true!" The woman adds. She leans back and into her brother. "We are here traveling through this land to get to the next. We don't hunt, but we do spend coin."

At that, her brother that interrupted pulls out a gold coin and shifts it between his hands so quickly Holly loses sight of it. Then he reaches out to her ear and pulls out the gold coin... which has become three coins instead. He places the coins on the table and says, "My lady, please bring us your cheapest wines, for I am parched, and keep the change."

"And why are you here this evening, young lady?" The big dwarf-like man asks. "You say your fortune has been decided by family? It sounds like you would rather be somewhere else."

Holly fills three tin goblets from the large cask beneath the bar and hands them to the trio.

"They mean well," she says, wiping her hands on a towel. "My brother is bound for the Arcane Academy next year. Aside from my mother, I'll have this place to myself, so they're insisting I go on holiday. They are not-so-secretly hoping I find a partner and entice them to come back with me." She laughs awkwardly. 

Holly casts a glance towards the darkening forest through the windows and shivers. 

"I have delayed as long as I can. Fewer and fewer hunters are traveling the road. I'll have to go by myself if I don't find companions, which is unwise. I'm sure you know bandits favor this time of year. Only folk willing to roam afar are those who can afford to pay for lodgings. Or the very foolish. Or the very desperate."

She palms the three gold and attempts a vanishing trick of her own. 

Sleight of Hand: 10  

"Oh hoh, see that, Leran? Her trick looks much better than yours! I could barely see how she did it and I have a trained eye." The tall dwarf-like man suddenly shouted and threw a hand on Leran's back. Leran rolled his eyes, but he had a bright smile on his face. "Well, young lady, you are welcome to join me and mine. We are heading to the neighboring country and we could use another hand. Hey, perhaps you'd like to try your hand at a bit of magic? But even just serving as the one holding the hat to collect tips is fine too."

"In truth, we are in quite a pickle," the woman adds solemnly. "We could use a little work on our storytelling. We are quite skilled with song, dance, and tricks... but we have a story with no ending. I think we need an outside perspective."

"Ahh, we shouldn't throw too much at this kind young lady, Avana." Leran injects before his sister can say too much more, but he does add... "Unless, you are curious. It is a great story so far, if I do say so myself..."

"Break a leg!" Holly says happily. "Please." 

Holly's mother loudly clears her throat from the kitchen.

Holly raises a finger and quickly quotes her father's rule: "Good performers drink free, bad performers pay double."

(Writing it here just simply, imagine its Leran speaking to you theatrically.)

Well, then, I better do a good job...

In an ancient land faraway, a dreaded tyrant conquered the peaceful people of the plains. Dralov the Unstoppable was his name, for he had never once lost in his one hundred battles. This unstoppable villain crept into every aspect of daily life demanding heavy taxes and draining the people dry. Those who could not pay the price paid with their lives... Our people took to the roads and we wander the world with no place to call home.

Yet Dralov did not stop there. His thirst for conquest could not be sated, and his eyes turned to a new land, a valley hugged by mists and blessed with grand fortune. We did our best to avoid the war, but one night a soldier happened upon our camp. His wounds ran and he lingered on death's door. We nursed this man as best we could and he survived by some miracle. This stranger grew close to us, but he would not tell us his name. Only that he wanted to go back home... to the very land Dralov threatened. 

We took the stranger through dangerous paths to deliver him into the arms of his beloved country. His enemies hunted him as one might hunt a rogue wolf. They demanded to know where he was, but we never relented. Even when they set upon us with their swords and spells, we resisted. When at long last we reached safety, we were blessed with his smile and a decree -- that we would be allowed to freely roam these roads and enjoy the riches of his land, for he was a prince, and we could call his land home. Safety would always be ours in his fair land.

When the Prince won his war, all was well in the land. Peace would reign, or so we all thought. Yet a dark cloud cast over the skies, and a terrible curse took him over... turning him into a merciless tyrant himself.

"And so you see, it has, sort of an ending of sorts, but we think it could use another act. What say you?"

Holly stays silent for a long time, thinking. The fanciful story was wonderfully tragic, but the expressions she saw crossing their faces during the telling were, well, telling. The mention of a miraculous recovery gives her goosebumps. Her fears slither around her heart.

"You have a classical tragedy on your hands," she says. "The unfortunate consumed by their misfortune, the hero corrupted. Sad, but it would be received well in the right audiences. Perhaps less is more and the tale ought to end there as a warning." 

She looks down at her hands, at the scar on her finger, at the floor. Finding Beatrix had been a half-hope. Something for diaries and tormented poetry. Something to fantasize about in the safety of a tavern, a library, a walled city. People don't actually go looking for bloodthirsty monsters, do they?

They do it all the time, she realizes. She remembers her father, dead by the Trickywindle on one last hunt. He knew how dangerous it would be for him. But he went. He went because it was in his blood to hunt. It was in her blood too, but of a different sort. 

And here were three others just as hellbent on running into the jaws of death. It was foolhardy. It was brave. It was the sort of timing that only touches us once. Holly blinks hard against terror and unwanted tears.

"However, if you prefer happy endings, I'll help in any way I can."

"There is something to be said for less is more... in truth this is based on a true story, and the curse came from the woman he loved dying..." Avana adds as Holly is deep in thought.

With Holly's last words, the trio look at each other conspiratorially. The big gentleman grins and nods, "Ah, there it is. Permission." He laughs deeply, but something feels unfriendly about it.

Suddenly, the windows and the doors in the tavern suddenly open as fog swirls into the room. It begins to wrap at Holly's feet, constricting and making her restrained. What should only be air feels like a vice grip on her lower half... but the fog is crawling up her body at a quick pace. She will soon be consumed by it. Holly can see her mother and brother trying to run up, but they suddenly collapse as soon as they touch the mist. Meanwhile these strangers seem to be wrapped up in mist too... unaffected at all.

(Holly gets one last action before the next bit starts. She can't move or stop this from happening -- but she has an opportunity to do something - anything. The three people who clearly brought this upon her are within grasp.)

It's happening again. Teeth where there should be tenderness. 

Holly screams. She jerks both daggers out of her belt and tries to bury them into Leran's heart. 

Beatrix's Dagger: 16 

Holly's Dagger: 24

Damage#1: 5 

Damage#2: 4

Desperate, Holly screams out louder, for help. It is late, but there's always a chance another hunter might be stopping in at 'The Last Omen'.

As her hand flies toward him, Holly sees elation turn to fear in Leran's eyes. What was just a moment ago good fun to him now spells his doom. Beatrix's dagger find purchase exactly where she aims -- the heart. The first stab pierces him through the chest and Leran coughs blood almost immediately. Shock crosses his expression now, followed by... pain. The mist, cold and moist, soaked through Holly's clothing as it wrapped her in a frigid embrace. 

Holly suddenly realized her feet no longer touch the ground. She feels like she is floating. Beatrix's dagger withdraws from Leran's chest, blood soaking his clothing.

As a last appeal to her anger and fear, Holly drives her own dagger toward the man. It cuts even deeper than the first stab. It is with this stab she sees the light leave Leran's eyes as he collapses to the floor in what Holly imagines to be a bloody heap. 

Leran's siblings are a mixture of anger and sorrow, the woman Avana lashes out at Holly and screams. "You little b-----! You won't know comfort. You won't know peace. And above all-" Avana's eyes seem to glint as the whole tavern seems to explode with mist. "You won't know love!"

The sound of rushing wind overwhelms Holly's ears and darkness floods her vision as the mists consume her. For a moment, it feels like this could spell Holly's end. After all, that woman surely cursed Holly. Holly is alone with her thoughts. If she were to dream, what would that dream be?

A dream of the forest. That place. 

Holly searches for Beatrix, but she keeps going in circles. The trees are covered in thorns the size of swords and soon she is running sluggishly as a monster draws closer, closer, calling out her name in Beatrix's voice. Holly stumbles.

The rest is often images of darkness, terror, and heartbreak. 

As Holly opens her eyes, she sees only darkness. She tries to sit up, apparently being on her back, but she cannot lean up more than about 10 inches before her head hits something in the darkness. Something hard. Feeling around... she feels enclosed. She pushes, panicked, against whatever is above her to get out. In doing so, a gentle light suddenly floods her field of vision as her vision focuses.

She is sitting inside of a coffin. Inside of a crypt. The only way out is a half open wrought iron gate from which moon light filters in...

(OOC) Does she still have her daggers?

Holly takes a couple steadying breaths and tries to collect her thoughts. The tavern, the strangers, the grasping mist, Leran's blood. Darkness. Dreams... but her body hurts too much now for this to be a dream.

'Dream or not, I can't stay here,' she think to herself and then slowly, stiffly, climbs out of the coffin and - as quietly as possible - makes her way to the iron gate and peaks out.

Stealth: 14 

(On mobile, no formatting, plus I just fell down the stairs so I won't be verbose. Also she has her daggers.)

Your footfalls barely register on the paved ground as you reach the gate. You see a path on the ground lead from your crypt to a dried up fountain. The path circles it then veers off in a direction in the distance.

Holly slowly follows the path, taking time to inspect the crypt, the fountain, the weather, etc as she passes them, but doesn't stop pressing forward. 

(The 'Observant' feat gives Holly super high passive perception and investigation (20 & 22). She will be attempting to gain as much information about her surroundings as possible and figure out where she is while being as stealthy as possible. Let me know if you need me to roll something.)

(Since your scores are that high, I think I'll say you don't need to roll at all unless you suspect something I said doesn't align with what your character/you are thinking. If I call for a roll, it might be suspicious, right? LOL. But I promise I won't try to trick you from a DM POV since that would be very silly.)

As you look to the sky, you see the moon is peeking from behind a veil of dark clouds, which threaten to rain upon you. Across the sky, you can't see any stars. The sky is completely overcast and dreary. On the horizon to your southwest, you see a mountain range in the distance behind a thick wood. 

After some sneaking, it doesn't appear any living thing is nearby you. You relax. You look at the crypt you emerged from. It reads:

Tavernier.

Looking around, there are no other graves or crypts. Nothing. All you see is a path leading north away from this place aside from the fountain.

The dried up fountain features a headless statue with a body whose form doesn't quite resemble man or woman. They stand at ease, with a shield in front of them between their resting hands and the ground. You can see, too, a longsword on their back. Something about this fountain reminds you of divinity in some ways. Perhaps this is supposed to represent a god, demigod, or some other similar being. (History check not available.)

Inside the bed of the dried fountain, you find a bloody pack...

(All the gear you would normally have is inside of it.)

The image of my name above the crypt is etched into my nightmares, though I have yet to dream it. The blood on the pack makes me uneasy. I scrub off as much of the blood as I can with sand or dirt before slinging it over my shoulders. And what's this? A bow and some arrows? It's something... I sheath Beatrix's Dagger and walk with an arrow knocked but undrawn. 

I carefully make my way up the path to the north.