Lucian lets out a yelp when he feels the shock, realizing he probably should have thought through his actions before actually following through... He'd honestly wondered if Pom could even see him up to this point, considering how he'd ignored him until he went to test his 'ghostliness'.
Shaking his hand a little, Lucian frowns at Pom's response thinking up another of his own but deciding to let it go. After a moment, his frown changes to a look of mild embarrassment. He crosses his arms and looks at the floor, waiting to see if Bran would continue talking, or if he would instead begin playing again.
The following post could contain delicate topics that could be triggers for some people like fatal illness, old age and assisted dying.
Even if I do not try to focus on that, they are present topics in the post to evoque the horror leitmotiv of this campaign. Probably this disclaimer wouldn't be necessary but I just wanted to be on the safe side.
Read at your own discretion.
The night had fallen over the agitated city. After the events of the savage charade of the burgomeister, the exhausted villagers went directly to their homes. Few had the spirit to go to their usual taverns and inns.
Ramona was oblivious to the tribulations of her fellow citizens. She hadn’t attended the festival, she was too old, too tired and too grumpy to abide to the last stupid idea of the new burgomeister.
As Hilda liked to remind her, the man was in charge of the city for several years now, but to her, who had outlived three of them, was just the new one. And as old Ramona never lose the chance to remind Hilda, the dumbest of all of them.
Poor good Hilda. Goodness bless that young woman. She had started to work at Ramona’s bakery five years ago but since she had arrived the old Ramona started to do less and less at the bakery, to the point that nowadays she just sat behind the counter and let the younger woman to take care of everything.
Yes… she was an old woman. Ramona moved around her own kitchen trying to clean the plate of her dinner. Of course Hilda had left the stew done too. She had let the meat so tender that Ramona didn’t need to chew it. She had only a few teeth left.
The pain in her stomach rivalized the one of her bones when she tried to put the dishes in the shrink. She almost threw up the dinner. The weakness made her hold the counter to avoid falling. She hated it. It had started almost a year ago, but she knew from the beginning what was going to happen to her. She had seen her own mother suffer the same, long, painful illness and saw how she suffer until one night she finally passed away. Ramona didn’t want that for herself. Why the Gods were so cruel?.
After a few minutes she managed to reach her bed, fortunately her small house wasn’t too big. She tried to imagine the dumb burgomeister having to cross his great mansion in the same situation and chuckle a little bit, first time she can recall that being poor was better to be rich. Her quiet laugh ended in a cough and a new access of pain. She felt her strength leaving her body.
Crying quietly she prayed to her Goodness to help her, to finish that pain, save her the suffering.
She felt a presence in the small house, an imposing figure that loomed over the bed and the frail figure of the old woman.
“My Goodness heard me” she whispered not without effort “She sent me an angel”
“I am no angel” said the figure, in a low, raspy voice.
Ramona closed her eyes, letting the tears run free down her cheeks.
“I do not care” she said “I’ve been asking for this for months. Now you have come. Do it… do it quick.”
“Are you sure?” asked the man taking a step towards the bed
Ramona nodded
“I am too blind, too sick and too old. I can feel it, you now? I can feel it every waking moment, eating me from the inside, making me weaker and weaker... I want to leave while I have some dignity left on me. I will finally join my child in the afterlife. “
She felt the figure hesitating.
“Please… “ she said crying “I beg you… “
The bed squeaked under the heavy weight of the figure when it sat on it.
“Then close your eyes old one. And rest.”
Mumbling her thanks she couldn’t help but tremble when the stranger gently touched her white hair. She barely felt the cold lips against the tender skin of the neck and thanks to the mercy of some God she didn’t feel pain when the two fangs pierced her skin. Ramona felt as she fell into a well of cold water as the life was abandoning her body.
Lenn cleaned the wound, leaving no mark and tucked the body as if she were sleeping.
Bitter blood tears crossed his face as Lenn walked back to the inn to wait for the dawn with the others. This time not even the energy of her Goodness helped him fight the sadness in his heart.
- Pom it is, then. Who named you, by the way? Or did you choose the name yourself? - he asks curiously.
As Pom and Lucian further insist on him throwing the necklace away, he thinks for a moment.
- Throw this away, you say...? - he says while his hand moves towards his chest to reach for the pan pipes necklace. Suddenly, Bran blinks in confusion and he finally seems to decide to move his hand towards the top of his head, where he scratches softly, as if thinking - ... I'm sorry, I've just got distracted. What was I saying ...?
He remembers after a couple of seconds.
- Ah! This talking about anyone taking this necklace from me ... Let's just think for a moment, okay? Let's be smart about this - he looks at Pom, and says - Look Pom, I've been unfortunate regarding Elia and Cassandra, but I was lucky enough to be found by Lucian here and the rest. Not only did they save me from that coffin, but have also been kind and caring enough to include me in their little family. And as so happens, we are currently on an important mission that will benefit everyone in Barovia - he stops for a moment before continuing - Up to now, there was nothing more important for me than my own family in our tiny three-people sized world. And I can't stress enough how hard it is for me to admit that I'm priorizing this mission above them. I do this because I firmly believe that this is the best for everyone, including my girls, wether I get to see them again or not.
He stops and exhales deeply again. How hard it was to keep saying that aloud ...
- What I mean is: I cannot afford to be without my skills now. For that barovian mission, I could probably afford to not be able to play music, but I definitely cannot afford to loose my magic. And, I don't know if you know Pom, but I certainly don't know if I will loose everything I've learned from you all this years if this necklace is removed from me ... or if you are freed. So I would beg that we keep this in consideration. I cannot free you until that mission is complete, Pom. And I would ask that you do not teach me anything more from your wife's song util we find a proper moment. For example, tomorrow we need to travel to do some investigations regarding that mission. So I think it would be better that I do not advance just yet, but leave it for the time when we are in-between missions. Meanwhile, I can practice playing other music ... right?
He looks at both Lucian and Pom with a serious face:
- I intend to end this necklace curse once and for all. And I want to end it myself and not pass it to Cassandra nor any other descendant of mine ... I mean, if that should happen again... - he shrugs, who knew, it could happen and the bard would love every bit of it as he did with his first child - But I also want to help end the curse that has engulfed Barovia. And I know there is a chance that I won't make it out alive - that is something that can happen to any of us in this little family. If that is to be my fate - and I do have Cassandra back with me by that time - I beg of you both: keep her away from me and the necklace. Meanwhile, I will figure out what to do about you, Pom, so you are properly taken care of if this were to happen. But I sincerely hope you understand that, if I fail in any of these quests, I need that the next necklace bearer agrees to wearing it, instead of having it forced upon. As Lucian has correctly stated, you should have informed me and you didn't. You had your reasons and I understand them. But this way of non-consent parent-child transfer that has been happening for so many centuries needs to end now.
The bard hopes his now friendly djinn tutor agrees to this. He intends to practice a little more during the night, but leaving enough time to have a good night's rest to depart the next day for the winery and Kreszk with full strenght. He will, though, ask Pom another thing, just in case he might now something.
- Pom, do you have any knowledge regarding hags? As it happens, they are related to me being separated from my family - the bard relays everything he's been told and remembered to the djinn in case he has any insight regarding these creatures.
Also, Bran takes good note on Lucian being able to actually touch Pom and both being somewhat hurt because of this. While it had been a bold move by the young dusk elf, it had proved worthy to know that his tutor could be hurt if anyone attacked him. And also the attacker for that matter.
(OOC: Does Bran know anything else of this Sander? I'll leave a history roll in a separate post just in case it applies).
When Ichabod's scream wakes her, Chara opens her eyes groggily and props herself up. When she sees what happened to the Imp while she slept, she gasps, nearly as shocked as the imp himself at the transformation.
"I-I didn't do anything," she says honestly, doing her best not to laugh at the predicament the imp has found himself in. "My patron came to me last night in a dream... he said he wasn't pleased with my decision to make a deal with a devil... and that he was going to do something about it. I-I guess this was what he was talking about...?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
"Bran, you misunderstand our relationship. As long as you bare the necklace, you are my master. I may teach you, but I must do as you command. Unfortunately, I am unable to control who bears the pipes or why. But I promise to do what I can. As for my name, one of my masters, long ago, was a child. Dunwin was his name. A sweet boy, whose father died young. He could not pronounce my full name: Pom was as close as he could get, being five-years old." Pom'sface turns grim. "He was killed by an uncle within a year. The uncle took control and never bothered to learn my full name. I've kept it ever since."
"Hags? he says, "As I said before, they are generally witches who have transcended mortality, able to live for hundreds of years. Wherever they make their home, they form an attachment to the land; I cannot say if they seek out corrupted lands or if their presence corrupts it over time. They are fiercely independent, but almost always operate in covens of three. They are of the vilest evil and seek to spread corruption and chaos, but they can be reasoned with if you have something they want or need. They are also quite powerful. It would be foolish to approach them without great preparation. If you are worried that they have entangled you in their intrigues, I engage them very cautiously."
Bran recalls his father telling him about an ancestor, really the earliest one of which he ever spoke. This was from a time before his family lived in Barovia. The ancestor, named Sander, had been the first of his family to play music for a living. He had a particular lute that he loved to play. It has been handed down over the generations, but some time ago it was damaged. Branhas never really looked at it because he assumed the price of fixing it was too high.
- Me, the master ! Heh...! I'm going to need a little time to get used to that. I mean... that's the last thing I expected to hear today, even after learning about the goddamn hags. - Bran laughs softly as he rubs his neck, and then adds - Anyway, now that everything seems to be clear between us, I'd say we are on the right path. It's a tough path, but at least we are already on it.
All of a sudden he feels really tired. He had been as tense as the strings of his lute and after so many things had been spoken that tension had been replaced with absolute tiredness.
He looks at Pom and says:
- Well, as I said, this has been unexpected. And illuminating. And I think I'm going to call it a night. Hells, do I need to rest now...! I'll wake up early and practice some more before we leave Vallaki - he nods at his tutor while giving him a tired but reassuring smile.
Then he turns to Lucian:
- I can't thank you enough for being next to me tonight, my friend - he places a hand on the dusk elf's shoulder. To Bran, that means more than a mere thankful gesture. It's the consolidation of a now deeper bond that joins them both.
Lucian stays quiet for a while, contemplating. If Bran's daughter is still alive, and... something does happen to Bran, then Lucian will make sure that she doesn't end up with... Pom. If it comes to it, then Lucian would be resolved to take the necklace himself...though he isn't to keen on the idea of willingly accepting another curse... who knows what types of misfortunes could result from his own curse. No, he'd have to solve that curse before he could accept another. Still, if he took the necklace... as en elf he'd live much longer then an average human. Could that raise his chances of breaking Pom's curse before his death? If anything, it would keep the necklace out of the reach of others for a good long while.
Don't think of this right now, he tells himself. Bran isn't going to die, none of us are. We are going to beat Strahd. And everything will be alright. He has to believe these things if they are to have any chance of coming true.
When Bran thanks him, Lucian gives a wide smile and says, "Oh... uh, no problem!" He hesitates for a moment before saying, "W...would it be alright if I watched you practice next time?"
Once everything is settled, Lucian crawls onto his own bed and lays there for a moment. He's never actually felt what it was like to lay on a bed before...not that he could remember anyways. It was odd to have something so cushiony below him rather then the hard ground or some hay. He rather liked it. He lay there for a while, wriggling around to find the most comfortable position he could before trying to enter his trance.
- Yeah! Of course. And you know, I could even teach you the basics when we have spare time. - and he glances at Pom, wondering what he'll think about this. Now that Bran knows the djinn's story, the bard thinks he would probably approve - If you want, of course. And - he laughs - I'm amazed to find myself saying this, because ... to be honest ... I've always been a little too afraid of playing outside from my home and for people other than my family or Pom. But ... is that even right? Why be afraid of sharing that which I love, right?
Bran shakes his head, truly amazed. "What is happening to me? I sure am changing lately".
The bard finally goes to bed, where he lies feeling exhausted but also lighter at the same time. As he closes his eyes he remembers the ancient - and damaged - lute he received from his father. "It should be home in Krezk ... Have to retrieve it... Need to have it fixed...", is Bran's last thought before falling asleep.
"R...really?" Lucian's eyes light up, and he looks just like a child for a moment. "You'd do that? Teach me? I..." He ducks his head, mind wandering for a moment--thinking about the father he never knew, and his mentor who... well. Is no longer around. He shakes his head, pushing those thoughts away before nodding vigorously, "I... I would love to learn! Thank you!"
As the morning dawns, there is a gentle knock on each of the party's doors. All are roused from bed early, but the Martikovs present everyone with warm cereal, flavored with berries, and hot tea and bread. Urwin says to the party "This is important to us, as it is our livelihood, but your lives are more important. Please be careful out there."
As the group exits the inn, you see morning light dimly filtering through the overcast sky. Mists dissolve from your path as you exit the city gate and begin your journey west along the Old Svalich Road. You are traversing Barovia yet again.
(Feel free to role-play the morning or anything else from the night previous; I'll get you all to the next event tomorrow some time).
Chara waits for Ichabod to finish throwing his temper tantrum, then sits up and tries to straighten out her hair a little bit before going to the common area for some breakfast.
"You know... if it's really upsetting you THAT much, you could just turn into a raven," Chara points out. "Though personally, I think it might help the others to trust you a little bit more... maybe...?"
When Chara gets to the common area, she notices Eithne and immediately imagines the savage woman's reaction to Ichabod's new form. The she-devil manages to stifle a chuckle, and walks up to Eithne while sending Ichabod off to do something else...
"Hey Eithne, would you mind doing me a favor today?" Chara asks in a whisper. "Could you try not to torture Ichabod too much... you see... my Master did something to him last night, and he isn't exactly adjusting well..."
Chara's patron seems to have turned Ichabod into a really ugly cherub... Ichabod is not taking it well.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
..."Hey Eithne, would you mind doing me a favor today?" Chara asks in a whisper. "Could you try not to torture Ichabod too much... you see... my Master did something to him last night, and he isn't exactly adjusting well..."...
As the morning dawns and Eithne hears a gentle knock on her room's door she, who had been watching all night concentrating on her surroundings (so as not to concentrate on anything more unpleasant) and who had therefore heard the approaching footsteps, immediately opens, somewhat surprising Urwin, who however is quick to recover and leads her and Juhowly down to the dining room for breakfast of warm cereal, flavored with berries, and hot tea and bread.
As usual, the savage stranger wouldn't be hungry... but while she makes Juhowly eat some bread, she keeps her company by savoring the tea and berries.
After the night of unpleasant memories, the last of the dusk elf maidens is struck by Urwin's kind words and, staring her azure eyes into those of the man with surprise and gratitude, replies: "Yes, careful we will - but we will make sure to be successful too. Thank you Urwin, you are a good person".
Then Chara approaches her, who (almost hesitant? Or is it just her impression?) asks her for mercy for Ichabore, referring to a 'patron' of hers who would have done 'something' to him. Eithne is so perplexed that she can almost see a jumble of question marks floating above her head…
"I don't understand much of what you're telling me my friend..." the savage stranger admits "Would this 'patron' of yours come to visit you last night? I thought we were just waiting for Pom's visit... Anyway, your 'patron' is certainly a very good creature, like you," she looks at her softly "so I'm sure whatever he did to the imp was a good thing. Personally," she sighs "I'm surprised he didn't directly banished or killed him... maybe I should change my opinion - if even your 'patron' didn't see fit to eliminate him on sight, maybe I too should accept him among us... so all right, don't worry, I won't 'torture' our hellish little friend, whatever that means".
"Anyway, have you seen Bran yet?" the last of the dusk elf maidens changes the subject "I'm curious to hear if he was able to meet this 'Pom' and if the meeting was fruitful..."
When the others come down to the common room of the inn Lenn is already there, sitting in a corner table his back against the wall, and he is polishing and sharpening his greatsword. He barely nods to the party as they enter and start eating their breakfast. He only seems to finish and sheathe his weapon back when the little pups appear and he gives them some dreid meat.
He has never been the soul of the party, so to speak, but this morning he seems more sad than grim.
When they depart he assumes the last position of the party, as always, his hood over his head, concealing his features and guarding him from the dim light of the sun cast shadows over them when it passes across the higher branches of the trees along their way.
As promised, the bard has woken up early to practice a little more. Nikolai is still sleeping and Lucian seems to be in his elven trance yet when he does. This leaves him a short while to play a little more and he again chooses a quiet song to not disturb them.
At that precise moment Bran realizes that ... Nikolai actually sleeps? And he even sleeps more than himself, a human. He just points this it out to himself, and also takes note to perhaps try to be a little more perceptive! It seemed that facts could sometimes be dancing in front of him still be unable to see them.
Having been able to finally speak to Pom and the result of if being better than expected, he chooses a happier song, plays for a while under Pom's attentive gaze and follows his recommendations.
(I had selected another song in case the conversation with Pom went badly. I much prefer this one ;D )
"A Beautiful Morning" by Olivier Deriviere. From "A Plague Tale: Requiem"
He then takes a short but very welcome bath, from which he gets out with his hair still wet to discover the Martikovs waking everybody up.
Upon reaching the common room, Bran finds Chara and Eithne speaking, and Lenn as serious as always.. or more than usually ...? This thought is interrupted when he hears Eithne mentioning his and Pom's name. So he goes to the table and keeps in mind to approach Lenn later.
- Morning! - he seems really recovered, specially after the memories that rained down on him the night before - Where you two talking about Pom? I have to say the practice went ... different than I expected. There were darks and lights, but I'd say the balance is positive. But before I say more let me say something - and he turns to Chara - Ichabod was right. I do have that "cloud of misfortune" affecting me and my family, and Pom is the one causing it. But we'll be working on that, us both...
He tells them about what transpired the day before, almost entirely. He leaves out the part of the conversation where he said what his intentions are if he fails on the necklace quest, as he doesn't want to spoil that morning for anyone. And also, it's nothing to worry about in that moment. That bridge is to be crossed only if it appears in their way. He tells all of this to whoever party member is in the room, but keeping it as short as possible, and not including the Martikovs in it.
- How about you?- he asks when he sits next to Eithne and Chara - Could you rest? By the way, Chara, I didn't have the opportunity to tell you that you yesterday that what you did for that kid was impressive. I think that I saw his mother thanking you and I was glad for it.
Eithne listens very carefully to what Bran says, finally commenting with sincere admiration in his azure eyes: "You have made a very noble and very important decision, Bran. Knowing you, of course, I had no doubts. You are really a very special person - and certainly not just for being the first true bard in your family line in 500 years. I'll do everything in my power to help you".
"The mother of the kid 'thanking' Chara?" the savage stranger can't help but laugh "I was there a stone's throw away and I saw better... and I'll tell you that she seemed more inclined to venerate her as a celestial creature! After all, we all know, her soul is like that... it's normal for her to have this effect, when someone gets to know her".
"Are you asking me if I rested?" the last of the dusk elf maidens gets hesitant "Well, yes... In part... But you know? Believe it or not, after I don't know how long of memory lapse, after talking to you, finally, last night, I too remembered something about my past... But I don't think now is the right time to talk about it; we have a winery to reach... and probably save, after all, don't we?"
Finally, realizing Lenn's state of mind, Eithne, who in the meantime has finished eating breakfast, joins him and asks: "Hey, are you alright? You know, you have never been the soul of the party, so to speak, but this morning you seem more sad than grim. Is there something troubling you? Other than having the Devil Strahd as an enemy, I mean".
Lenn hears Bran's tale and can't help but agree with Eithne's words. He was trying to do the right thing, the noble thing. In silence he prayed to his Goodness to help him.
When Eithne comes closer to him and asks him he looks down.
"I'm.. fine... yes... it's just... "he hesitates and finally look up to Eithne, lowering his voice " You know what I am... the curse I bear. The Beast needs to be satiated. Rather than let it control me I try to use it for a greater good. Thieves, assassins... I prey on them bringing the justice their victims need. I know it's not... the most honorable thing to do but... I must keep It under control. Otherwise... let's say that you don't only have to worry about Lucian's losing control. " he smirks trying to make it sound lighter than it really is. "Last night... it was different I helped someone that wasn't evil. She... she was ill, terribly ill and she even asked me to give mercy to her. She is resting now. Her face at the end was a peaceful one, opposite to the... others. Still I feel bad. It felt somehow... wrong. " he makes a long pause. " I must confess to you Eithne. I do not know how much longer I would be able to bare this. Only the desire to see this land free keeps me going. That and the hope of... "
He suddenly stops. Eithne has the feeling that he was about to tell something that he doesn't want to share yet. That he has gone deeper than he initially thought.
"The hope of end this. "he finish his own sentence perhaps a little bit too fast. "Still it is good to be with you all, helping you, not only achieving our main goal, but also with all your... little good acts"he points to the pups who were playing nearby "It feels... good. And that's a strange thing in this accursed land."
Lenn hears Bran's tale and can't help but agree with Eithne's words. He was trying to do the right thing, the noble thing. In silence he prayed to his Goodness to help him.
When Eithne comes closer to him and asks him he looks down.
"I'm.. fine... yes... it's just... "he hesitates and finally look up to Eithne, lowering his voice " You know what I am... the curse I bear. The Beast needs to be satiated. Rather than let it control me I try to use it for a greater good. Thieves, assassins... I prey on them bringing the justice their victims need. I know it's not... the most honorable thing to do but... I must keep It under control. Otherwise... let's say that you don't only have to worry about Lucian's losing control. " he smirks trying to make it sound lighter than it really is. "Last night... it was different I helped someone that wasn't evil. She... she was ill, terribly ill and she even asked me to give mercy to her. She is resting now. Her face at the end was a peaceful one, opposite to the... others. Still I feel bad. It felt somehow... wrong. " he makes a long pause. " I must confess to you Eithne. I do not know how much longer I would be able to bare this. Only the desire to see this land free keeps me going. That and the hope of... "
He suddenly stops. Eithne has the feeling that he was about to tell something that he doesn't want to share yet. That he has gone deeper than he initially thought.
"The hope of end this. "he finish his own sentence perhaps a little bit too fast. "Still it is good to be with you all, helping you, not only achieving our main goal, but also with all your... little good acts"he points to the pups who were playing nearby "It feels... good. And that's a strange thing in this accursed land."
"The hope of and end... Perhaps also the hope of peace?" Eithne smiles bitterly at Lenn's words - the way she spoke 'peace' letting think to something... well, ethernal"I think I can understand you. And maybe, in the end, it will be just that, what we will find".
"Felt wrong..." repeats the savage stranger "And how could it be otherwise? This is Barovia. Maybe one day we will actually change it, but for now, everything, everywhere, seems wrong. In your case, however, I think the 'wrong' that you feel was the disease. The absence of a better hope than death. The injustice of it all. It was all of this that was wrong, not what, under the circumstances, you did. You did nothing but bring the only comfort you could. No one could have asked you for more. I think, in your situation, I would have done the same".
"Yes," the last of the dusk elf maidens smiles again, looking at Juhowly and Lidel "feels good. It gives hope. The hope that at least not quite everything is wrong. That things can improve. That one day to hope - or to smile - it's not so strange anymore".
Eithne is ready to go.
Throughout the journey, she remains at the head of the group, her senses alert, her hands gripping the handle of her trusty greataxe - and her heart gripping something less familiar, but equally comforting: hope.
- Well, let's see how everything goes. For the moment, I'm just glad for this breakthrough with Pom. He's been with me for .... gods ... fourteen years? I was twenty when we were bound. And all these years I've been scared of him. To think that I have needed that much time to reach this point ... - he shakes his head in amazement - Better late than never, I guess.
Talking about Chara and the kid's mother, the bard apologizes:
- Oh, sorry! I turned my attention to that Lady Wachter very quickly, so I didn't realize the full extent of that mother's reaction. But I'm really happy to hear that - she nods and smiles at Chara.
He's about to ask Eithne about what she remembered, but just shuts up and nods when she doesn't want to speak about that just yet.
He then starts having the best breakfast in ... who knows how much time. He eats eagerly and looks curiously at Eithne and Lenn. He doesn't know what they are talking about but, man, those are like a lot of words coming out of Lenn's mouth. "A-ma-zing. What a feat to make him speak that much, Eithne...!", he thinks.
Lucian lets out a yelp when he feels the shock, realizing he probably should have thought through his actions before actually following through... He'd honestly wondered if Pom could even see him up to this point, considering how he'd ignored him until he went to test his 'ghostliness'.
Shaking his hand a little, Lucian frowns at Pom's response thinking up another of his own but deciding to let it go. After a moment, his frown changes to a look of mild embarrassment. He crosses his arms and looks at the floor, waiting to see if Bran would continue talking, or if he would instead begin playing again.
Disclaimer:
The following post could contain delicate topics that could be triggers for some people like fatal illness, old age and assisted dying.
Even if I do not try to focus on that, they are present topics in the post to evoque the horror leitmotiv of this campaign. Probably this disclaimer wouldn't be necessary but I just wanted to be on the safe side.
Read at your own discretion.
The night had fallen over the agitated city. After the events of the savage charade of the burgomeister, the exhausted villagers went directly to their homes. Few had the spirit to go to their usual taverns and inns.
Ramona was oblivious to the tribulations of her fellow citizens. She hadn’t attended the festival, she was too old, too tired and too grumpy to abide to the last stupid idea of the new burgomeister.
As Hilda liked to remind her, the man was in charge of the city for several years now, but to her, who had outlived three of them, was just the new one. And as old Ramona never lose the chance to remind Hilda, the dumbest of all of them.
Poor good Hilda. Goodness bless that young woman. She had started to work at Ramona’s bakery five years ago but since she had arrived the old Ramona started to do less and less at the bakery, to the point that nowadays she just sat behind the counter and let the younger woman to take care of everything.
Yes… she was an old woman. Ramona moved around her own kitchen trying to clean the plate of her dinner. Of course Hilda had left the stew done too. She had let the meat so tender that Ramona didn’t need to chew it. She had only a few teeth left.
The pain in her stomach rivalized the one of her bones when she tried to put the dishes in the shrink. She almost threw up the dinner. The weakness made her hold the counter to avoid falling. She hated it. It had started almost a year ago, but she knew from the beginning what was going to happen to her. She had seen her own mother suffer the same, long, painful illness and saw how she suffer until one night she finally passed away. Ramona didn’t want that for herself. Why the Gods were so cruel?.
After a few minutes she managed to reach her bed, fortunately her small house wasn’t too big. She tried to imagine the dumb burgomeister having to cross his great mansion in the same situation and chuckle a little bit, first time she can recall that being poor was better to be rich. Her quiet laugh ended in a cough and a new access of pain. She felt her strength leaving her body.
Crying quietly she prayed to her Goodness to help her, to finish that pain, save her the suffering.
She felt a presence in the small house, an imposing figure that loomed over the bed and the frail figure of the old woman.
“My Goodness heard me” she whispered not without effort “She sent me an angel”
“I am no angel” said the figure, in a low, raspy voice.
Ramona closed her eyes, letting the tears run free down her cheeks.
“I do not care” she said “I’ve been asking for this for months. Now you have come. Do it… do it quick.”
“Are you sure?” asked the man taking a step towards the bed
Ramona nodded
“I am too blind, too sick and too old. I can feel it, you now? I can feel it every waking moment, eating me from the inside, making me weaker and weaker... I want to leave while I have some dignity left on me. I will finally join my child in the afterlife. “
She felt the figure hesitating.
“Please… “ she said crying “I beg you… “
The bed squeaked under the heavy weight of the figure when it sat on it.
“Then close your eyes old one. And rest.”
Mumbling her thanks she couldn’t help but tremble when the stranger gently touched her white hair. She barely felt the cold lips against the tender skin of the neck and thanks to the mercy of some God she didn’t feel pain when the two fangs pierced her skin. Ramona felt as she fell into a well of cold water as the life was abandoning her body.
Lenn cleaned the wound, leaving no mark and tucked the body as if she were sleeping.
Bitter blood tears crossed his face as Lenn walked back to the inn to wait for the dawn with the others. This time not even the energy of her Goodness helped him fight the sadness in his heart.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Lucian / DM:
- Pom it is, then. Who named you, by the way? Or did you choose the name yourself? - he asks curiously.
As Pom and Lucian further insist on him throwing the necklace away, he thinks for a moment.
- Throw this away, you say...? - he says while his hand moves towards his chest to reach for the pan pipes necklace. Suddenly, Bran blinks in confusion and he finally seems to decide to move his hand towards the top of his head, where he scratches softly, as if thinking - ... I'm sorry, I've just got distracted. What was I saying ...?
He remembers after a couple of seconds.
- Ah! This talking about anyone taking this necklace from me ... Let's just think for a moment, okay? Let's be smart about this - he looks at Pom, and says - Look Pom, I've been unfortunate regarding Elia and Cassandra, but I was lucky enough to be found by Lucian here and the rest. Not only did they save me from that coffin, but have also been kind and caring enough to include me in their little family. And as so happens, we are currently on an important mission that will benefit everyone in Barovia - he stops for a moment before continuing - Up to now, there was nothing more important for me than my own family in our tiny three-people sized world. And I can't stress enough how hard it is for me to admit that I'm priorizing this mission above them. I do this because I firmly believe that this is the best for everyone, including my girls, wether I get to see them again or not.
He stops and exhales deeply again. How hard it was to keep saying that aloud ...
- What I mean is: I cannot afford to be without my skills now. For that barovian mission, I could probably afford to not be able to play music, but I definitely cannot afford to loose my magic. And, I don't know if you know Pom, but I certainly don't know if I will loose everything I've learned from you all this years if this necklace is removed from me ... or if you are freed. So I would beg that we keep this in consideration. I cannot free you until that mission is complete, Pom. And I would ask that you do not teach me anything more from your wife's song util we find a proper moment. For example, tomorrow we need to travel to do some investigations regarding that mission. So I think it would be better that I do not advance just yet, but leave it for the time when we are in-between missions. Meanwhile, I can practice playing other music ... right?
He looks at both Lucian and Pom with a serious face:
- I intend to end this necklace curse once and for all. And I want to end it myself and not pass it to Cassandra nor any other descendant of mine ... I mean, if that should happen again... - he shrugs, who knew, it could happen and the bard would love every bit of it as he did with his first child - But I also want to help end the curse that has engulfed Barovia. And I know there is a chance that I won't make it out alive - that is something that can happen to any of us in this little family. If that is to be my fate - and I do have Cassandra back with me by that time - I beg of you both: keep her away from me and the necklace. Meanwhile, I will figure out what to do about you, Pom, so you are properly taken care of if this were to happen. But I sincerely hope you understand that, if I fail in any of these quests, I need that the next necklace bearer agrees to wearing it, instead of having it forced upon. As Lucian has correctly stated, you should have informed me and you didn't. You had your reasons and I understand them. But this way of non-consent parent-child transfer that has been happening for so many centuries needs to end now.
The bard hopes his now friendly djinn tutor agrees to this. He intends to practice a little more during the night, but leaving enough time to have a good night's rest to depart the next day for the winery and Kreszk with full strenght. He will, though, ask Pom another thing, just in case he might now something.
- Pom, do you have any knowledge regarding hags? As it happens, they are related to me being separated from my family - the bard relays everything he's been told and remembered to the djinn in case he has any insight regarding these creatures.
Also, Bran takes good note on Lucian being able to actually touch Pom and both being somewhat hurt because of this. While it had been a bold move by the young dusk elf, it had proved worthy to know that his tutor could be hurt if anyone attacked him. And also the attacker for that matter.
(OOC: Does Bran know anything else of this Sander? I'll leave a history roll in a separate post just in case it applies).
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Bran's history roll: 23
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
When Ichabod's scream wakes her, Chara opens her eyes groggily and props herself up. When she sees what happened to the Imp while she slept, she gasps, nearly as shocked as the imp himself at the transformation.
"I-I didn't do anything," she says honestly, doing her best not to laugh at the predicament the imp has found himself in. "My patron came to me last night in a dream... he said he wasn't pleased with my decision to make a deal with a devil... and that he was going to do something about it. I-I guess this was what he was talking about...?"
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Bran and Lucian:
"Bran, you misunderstand our relationship. As long as you bare the necklace, you are my master. I may teach you, but I must do as you command. Unfortunately, I am unable to control who bears the pipes or why. But I promise to do what I can. As for my name, one of my masters, long ago, was a child. Dunwin was his name. A sweet boy, whose father died young. He could not pronounce my full name: Pom was as close as he could get, being five-years old." Pom's face turns grim. "He was killed by an uncle within a year. The uncle took control and never bothered to learn my full name. I've kept it ever since."
"Hags? he says, "As I said before, they are generally witches who have transcended mortality, able to live for hundreds of years. Wherever they make their home, they form an attachment to the land; I cannot say if they seek out corrupted lands or if their presence corrupts it over time. They are fiercely independent, but almost always operate in covens of three. They are of the vilest evil and seek to spread corruption and chaos, but they can be reasoned with if you have something they want or need. They are also quite powerful. It would be foolish to approach them without great preparation. If you are worried that they have entangled you in their intrigues, I engage them very cautiously."
Bran recalls his father telling him about an ancestor, really the earliest one of which he ever spoke. This was from a time before his family lived in Barovia. The ancestor, named Sander, had been the first of his family to play music for a living. He had a particular lute that he loved to play. It has been handed down over the generations, but some time ago it was damaged. Bran has never really looked at it because he assumed the price of fixing it was too high.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Lucian / DM:
- Me, the master ! Heh...! I'm going to need a little time to get used to that. I mean... that's the last thing I expected to hear today, even after learning about the goddamn hags. - Bran laughs softly as he rubs his neck, and then adds - Anyway, now that everything seems to be clear between us, I'd say we are on the right path. It's a tough path, but at least we are already on it.
All of a sudden he feels really tired. He had been as tense as the strings of his lute and after so many things had been spoken that tension had been replaced with absolute tiredness.
He looks at Pom and says:
- Well, as I said, this has been unexpected. And illuminating. And I think I'm going to call it a night. Hells, do I need to rest now...! I'll wake up early and practice some more before we leave Vallaki - he nods at his tutor while giving him a tired but reassuring smile.
Then he turns to Lucian:
- I can't thank you enough for being next to me tonight, my friend - he places a hand on the dusk elf's shoulder. To Bran, that means more than a mere thankful gesture. It's the consolidation of a now deeper bond that joins them both.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Bran, DM:
Lucian stays quiet for a while, contemplating. If Bran's daughter is still alive, and... something does happen to Bran, then Lucian will make sure that she doesn't end up with... Pom. If it comes to it, then Lucian would be resolved to take the necklace himself...though he isn't to keen on the idea of willingly accepting another curse... who knows what types of misfortunes could result from his own curse. No, he'd have to solve that curse before he could accept another. Still, if he took the necklace... as en elf he'd live much longer then an average human. Could that raise his chances of breaking Pom's curse before his death? If anything, it would keep the necklace out of the reach of others for a good long while.
Don't think of this right now, he tells himself. Bran isn't going to die, none of us are. We are going to beat Strahd. And everything will be alright. He has to believe these things if they are to have any chance of coming true.
When Bran thanks him, Lucian gives a wide smile and says, "Oh... uh, no problem!" He hesitates for a moment before saying, "W...would it be alright if I watched you practice next time?"
Once everything is settled, Lucian crawls onto his own bed and lays there for a moment. He's never actually felt what it was like to lay on a bed before...not that he could remember anyways. It was odd to have something so cushiony below him rather then the hard ground or some hay. He rather liked it. He lay there for a while, wriggling around to find the most comfortable position he could before trying to enter his trance.
- Yeah! Of course. And you know, I could even teach you the basics when we have spare time. - and he glances at Pom, wondering what he'll think about this. Now that Bran knows the djinn's story, the bard thinks he would probably approve - If you want, of course. And - he laughs - I'm amazed to find myself saying this, because ... to be honest ... I've always been a little too afraid of playing outside from my home and for people other than my family or Pom. But ... is that even right? Why be afraid of sharing that which I love, right?
Bran shakes his head, truly amazed. "What is happening to me? I sure am changing lately".
The bard finally goes to bed, where he lies feeling exhausted but also lighter at the same time. As he closes his eyes he remembers the ancient - and damaged - lute he received from his father. "It should be home in Krezk ... Have to retrieve it... Need to have it fixed...", is Bran's last thought before falling asleep.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
"R...really?" Lucian's eyes light up, and he looks just like a child for a moment. "You'd do that? Teach me? I..." He ducks his head, mind wandering for a moment--thinking about the father he never knew, and his mentor who... well. Is no longer around. He shakes his head, pushing those thoughts away before nodding vigorously, "I... I would love to learn! Thank you!"
As the morning dawns, there is a gentle knock on each of the party's doors. All are roused from bed early, but the Martikovs present everyone with warm cereal, flavored with berries, and hot tea and bread. Urwin says to the party "This is important to us, as it is our livelihood, but your lives are more important. Please be careful out there."
As the group exits the inn, you see morning light dimly filtering through the overcast sky. Mists dissolve from your path as you exit the city gate and begin your journey west along the Old Svalich Road. You are traversing Barovia yet again.
(Feel free to role-play the morning or anything else from the night previous; I'll get you all to the next event tomorrow some time).
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Chara waits for Ichabod to finish throwing his temper tantrum, then sits up and tries to straighten out her hair a little bit before going to the common area for some breakfast.
"You know... if it's really upsetting you THAT much, you could just turn into a raven," Chara points out. "Though personally, I think it might help the others to trust you a little bit more... maybe...?"
When Chara gets to the common area, she notices Eithne and immediately imagines the savage woman's reaction to Ichabod's new form. The she-devil manages to stifle a chuckle, and walks up to Eithne while sending Ichabod off to do something else...
"Hey Eithne, would you mind doing me a favor today?" Chara asks in a whisper. "Could you try not to torture Ichabod too much... you see... my Master did something to him last night, and he isn't exactly adjusting well..."
Chara's patron seems to have turned Ichabod into a really ugly cherub... Ichabod is not taking it well.
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As the morning dawns and Eithne hears a gentle knock on her room's door she, who had been watching all night concentrating on her surroundings (so as not to concentrate on anything more unpleasant) and who had therefore heard the approaching footsteps, immediately opens, somewhat surprising Urwin, who however is quick to recover and leads her and Juhowly down to the dining room for breakfast of warm cereal, flavored with berries, and hot tea and bread.
As usual, the savage stranger wouldn't be hungry... but while she makes Juhowly eat some bread, she keeps her company by savoring the tea and berries.
After the night of unpleasant memories, the last of the dusk elf maidens is struck by Urwin's kind words and, staring her azure eyes into those of the man with surprise and gratitude, replies: "Yes, careful we will - but we will make sure to be successful too. Thank you Urwin, you are a good person".
Then Chara approaches her, who (almost hesitant? Or is it just her impression?) asks her for mercy for Ichabore, referring to a 'patron' of hers who would have done 'something' to him. Eithne is so perplexed that she can almost see a jumble of question marks floating above her head…
"I don't understand much of what you're telling me my friend..." the savage stranger admits "Would this 'patron' of yours come to visit you last night? I thought we were just waiting for Pom's visit... Anyway, your 'patron' is certainly a very good creature, like you," she looks at her softly "so I'm sure whatever he did to the imp was a good thing. Personally," she sighs "I'm surprised he didn't directly banished or killed him... maybe I should change my opinion - if even your 'patron' didn't see fit to eliminate him on sight, maybe I too should accept him among us... so all right, don't worry, I won't 'torture' our hellish little friend, whatever that means".
"Anyway, have you seen Bran yet?" the last of the dusk elf maidens changes the subject "I'm curious to hear if he was able to meet this 'Pom' and if the meeting was fruitful..."
When the others come down to the common room of the inn Lenn is already there, sitting in a corner table his back against the wall, and he is polishing and sharpening his greatsword. He barely nods to the party as they enter and start eating their breakfast. He only seems to finish and sheathe his weapon back when the little pups appear and he gives them some dreid meat.
He has never been the soul of the party, so to speak, but this morning he seems more sad than grim.
When they depart he assumes the last position of the party, as always, his hood over his head, concealing his features and guarding him from the dim light of the sun cast shadows over them when it passes across the higher branches of the trees along their way.
PbP Character: A few ;)
As they pass through the city gates, Nikolai heaves a sigh. "Boy, am I glad to leave that place. Vallaki is even more messed up than I remembered it."
As promised, the bard has woken up early to practice a little more. Nikolai is still sleeping and Lucian seems to be in his elven trance yet when he does. This leaves him a short while to play a little more and he again chooses a quiet song to not disturb them.
At that precise moment Bran realizes that ... Nikolai actually sleeps? And he even sleeps more than himself, a human. He just points this it out to himself, and also takes note to perhaps try to be a little more perceptive! It seemed that facts could sometimes be dancing in front of him still be unable to see them.
Having been able to finally speak to Pom and the result of if being better than expected, he chooses a happier song, plays for a while under Pom's attentive gaze and follows his recommendations.
(I had selected another song in case the conversation with Pom went badly. I much prefer this one ;D )
"A Beautiful Morning" by Olivier Deriviere. From "A Plague Tale: Requiem"
https://store.steampowered.com/app/1182900/A_Plague_Tale_Requiem/
https://www.asobostudio.com/games
He then takes a short but very welcome bath, from which he gets out with his hair still wet to discover the Martikovs waking everybody up.
Upon reaching the common room, Bran finds Chara and Eithne speaking, and Lenn as serious as always.. or more than usually ...? This thought is interrupted when he hears Eithne mentioning his and Pom's name. So he goes to the table and keeps in mind to approach Lenn later.
- Morning! - he seems really recovered, specially after the memories that rained down on him the night before - Where you two talking about Pom? I have to say the practice went ... different than I expected. There were darks and lights, but I'd say the balance is positive. But before I say more let me say something - and he turns to Chara - Ichabod was right. I do have that "cloud of misfortune" affecting me and my family, and Pom is the one causing it. But we'll be working on that, us both...
He tells them about what transpired the day before, almost entirely. He leaves out the part of the conversation where he said what his intentions are if he fails on the necklace quest, as he doesn't want to spoil that morning for anyone. And also, it's nothing to worry about in that moment. That bridge is to be crossed only if it appears in their way. He tells all of this to whoever party member is in the room, but keeping it as short as possible, and not including the Martikovs in it.
- How about you? - he asks when he sits next to Eithne and Chara - Could you rest? By the way, Chara, I didn't have the opportunity to tell you that you yesterday that what you did for that kid was impressive. I think that I saw his mother thanking you and I was glad for it.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Eithne listens very carefully to what Bran says, finally commenting with sincere admiration in his azure eyes: "You have made a very noble and very important decision, Bran. Knowing you, of course, I had no doubts. You are really a very special person - and certainly not just for being the first true bard in your family line in 500 years. I'll do everything in my power to help you".
"The mother of the kid 'thanking' Chara?" the savage stranger can't help but laugh "I was there a stone's throw away and I saw better... and I'll tell you that she seemed more inclined to venerate her as a celestial creature! After all, we all know, her soul is like that... it's normal for her to have this effect, when someone gets to know her".
"Are you asking me if I rested?" the last of the dusk elf maidens gets hesitant "Well, yes... In part... But you know? Believe it or not, after I don't know how long of memory lapse, after talking to you, finally, last night, I too remembered something about my past... But I don't think now is the right time to talk about it; we have a winery to reach... and probably save, after all, don't we?"
Finally, realizing Lenn's state of mind, Eithne, who in the meantime has finished eating breakfast, joins him and asks: "Hey, are you alright? You know, you have never been the soul of the party, so to speak, but this morning you seem more sad than grim. Is there something troubling you? Other than having the Devil Strahd as an enemy, I mean".
Lenn hears Bran's tale and can't help but agree with Eithne's words. He was trying to do the right thing, the noble thing. In silence he prayed to his Goodness to help him.
When Eithne comes closer to him and asks him he looks down.
"I'm.. fine... yes... it's just... " he hesitates and finally look up to Eithne, lowering his voice " You know what I am... the curse I bear. The Beast needs to be satiated. Rather than let it control me I try to use it for a greater good. Thieves, assassins... I prey on them bringing the justice their victims need. I know it's not... the most honorable thing to do but... I must keep It under control. Otherwise... let's say that you don't only have to worry about Lucian's losing control. " he smirks trying to make it sound lighter than it really is. "Last night... it was different I helped someone that wasn't evil. She... she was ill, terribly ill and she even asked me to give mercy to her. She is resting now. Her face at the end was a peaceful one, opposite to the... others. Still I feel bad. It felt somehow... wrong. " he makes a long pause. " I must confess to you Eithne. I do not know how much longer I would be able to bare this. Only the desire to see this land free keeps me going. That and the hope of... "
He suddenly stops. Eithne has the feeling that he was about to tell something that he doesn't want to share yet. That he has gone deeper than he initially thought.
"The hope of end this. " he finish his own sentence perhaps a little bit too fast. "Still it is good to be with you all, helping you, not only achieving our main goal, but also with all your... little good acts" he points to the pups who were playing nearby "It feels... good. And that's a strange thing in this accursed land."
PbP Character: A few ;)
"The hope of and end... Perhaps also the hope of peace?" Eithne smiles bitterly at Lenn's words - the way she spoke 'peace' letting think to something... well, ethernal "I think I can understand you. And maybe, in the end, it will be just that, what we will find".
"Felt wrong..." repeats the savage stranger "And how could it be otherwise? This is Barovia. Maybe one day we will actually change it, but for now, everything, everywhere, seems wrong. In your case, however, I think the 'wrong' that you feel was the disease. The absence of a better hope than death. The injustice of it all. It was all of this that was wrong, not what, under the circumstances, you did. You did nothing but bring the only comfort you could. No one could have asked you for more. I think, in your situation, I would have done the same".
"Yes," the last of the dusk elf maidens smiles again, looking at Juhowly and Lidel "feels good. It gives hope. The hope that at least not quite everything is wrong. That things can improve. That one day to hope - or to smile - it's not so strange anymore".
Eithne is ready to go.
Throughout the journey, she remains at the head of the group, her senses alert, her hands gripping the handle of her trusty greataxe - and her heart gripping something less familiar, but equally comforting: hope.
Bran smiles gratefully at Eithne's comments.
- Well, let's see how everything goes. For the moment, I'm just glad for this breakthrough with Pom. He's been with me for .... gods ... fourteen years? I was twenty when we were bound. And all these years I've been scared of him. To think that I have needed that much time to reach this point ... - he shakes his head in amazement - Better late than never, I guess.
Talking about Chara and the kid's mother, the bard apologizes:
- Oh, sorry! I turned my attention to that Lady Wachter very quickly, so I didn't realize the full extent of that mother's reaction. But I'm really happy to hear that - she nods and smiles at Chara.
He's about to ask Eithne about what she remembered, but just shuts up and nods when she doesn't want to speak about that just yet.
He then starts having the best breakfast in ... who knows how much time. He eats eagerly and looks curiously at Eithne and Lenn. He doesn't know what they are talking about but, man, those are like a lot of words coming out of Lenn's mouth. "A-ma-zing. What a feat to make him speak that much, Eithne...!", he thinks.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra