Rinn is following the lead of his companions, having a slight smirk as he watches the oft-stammering orc druid take control of the situation. He seems seem to be more relaxed in this place; it's a nice change of pace compared to how nervous Toadstool seemed while they were in Havenford.
The elf is definitely taking note of his surroundings, thinking about what and/or if he's heard of these wandering people (History: 19 + 3 = 22). Rachael is staying hidden, keeping an eye too from her vantage point from within the wizard's backpack.
"I'm sure that a wandering folk like yourselves have much that you could tell," remarks Rinn, setting his bag down by his leg as he's sitting by the fire, "Indeed, I have many stories I could tell as well for those wanting to hear. I've seen much traveling as a member of my order, but of course, as a man of knowledge, I will pay if the information is useful enough to my needs."
He takes a few sips from his own waterskin and asks, "Perhaps there are things that you wish to know, Mr. Arturi?"
"My people are ... wanderers, after a fashion." Arturi admitted. "In those travels, I've not noticed hearing of the Traveling Blum's."
It struck Agnes as an odd choice of words. She got the distinct impression that 'had not noticed' was being used linguistically in the same sense as 'do not remember.' It was curious. The turn of phrase might have been something as simple as a word that got lost in translation ... or perhaps the choice of words spoke to something deeper. Possibly, to these people's vastly different experience with time & memory.
Arturi continued, removing his hat, revealing a tangled mess of unruly, raven-dark, curly hair. "The Vistani, you see, are a people without homeland."
He softened his visage somewhat, as if clearing unwelcome thoughts.
"We are an ancient people. Our tales are as old as the hills. Our sagas are passed down in the oral tradition from one generation to the next. We were smiths, shepherds, herbalists, entertainers, healers. There were few among us who could count themselves as warriors."
"We are named after an ancient pledge we made to a foreign warrior-king. Vistani ... the followers of Vistan."
"Ages ago, in a time before memory ... we were led away from our homes. Led astray, and then abandoned to our fates."
"A man came to us promising wealth — a great general named Vistan. He rallied us to his cause, lured us in with coin ... and we followed his men into war. We worked his forges. Shoed his horses, kept them groomed and well fed. We tended to his wounded knights." Here Arturi raised a finger, making a distinction. "But we never took up the sword."
"Vistan was not our king, nor was he our enemy, but his wealth was great and his army was well provisioned. Westward we followed him. Across distant lands we had not noticed before. Empire after empire fell before his armies. Like grains before the scythe."
"His cause was not ours, nor did he share with us any spoils of war, and yet his defeat — when it arrived — was shared among all who followed him."
"In some faraway land, Vistan was crushed by the warriors of a nameless god. All of the general's legions were taken up as slaves. You will notice that we had never taken up the sword, and thus we found ourselves spared. The yoke of bondage was never placed upon us."
"But neither were we allowed to settle or return to our home, for when the conquering army expelled us from their lands, they decreed that the way home would forever be forbidden to us."
"'Vistani' they named us, and laid a curse at our feet, vowing that our lives would be forfeit if our vardos — the painted wagons of our people — ever faced east."
"In some lands, we are called the Rhennee, in some of the more forgotten places we are called the Gur, and in yet others our people are named the Romany ... but it is by our greatest folly that we shall always be remembered."
"Thus," He said with a simple bow and a flourish. "We are — and shall always be — Vistani."
Bringing the tale to a close, Arturi's face took on a wistful appearance.
"Vistan was not our king, nor was he our enemy ... yet forever we bear his name ... and will forever be haunted by the allegiances we made."
OOC — Even among those of you with knowledge of various peoples and distant lands ... none of you have ever heard of the Vistani — or the Rhennee (Greyhawk), or the Gur (Forgotten Realms), or the Romany (Earth) — before this moment.
Toadstool listens carefully and with great interest. He is genuinely comfortable with them as his past is a bit similar to theirs. "Oh this is a great story, great story indeed. Sad, but great. I am just like you in a way, yes. I too did not take up sword when my tribe made me to. That is a great shame, no dishonor for an orc to avoid the warpath. Still did it. Cast out and banished for that yes. Has, has anyone tried to break your curse?"
Yaudara leans in, eager to hear the answer to Toadstool's question, and keeping in the back of his mind to ask where the endangered village of South Fork is later.
Rinn finds this story to be intriguing indeed, and as an elf, he greatly appreciates the way in which Arturi weaves the words, flowing with a kind a rhythm that reminds him of a song. He nods in agreement with Toadstool, saying, "A great story indeed. I can tell that you've told it many a time, Mister Arturi. Perhaps you have experience with the oratory arts?"
After a moment to linger on the words, Rinn continues his original thought, saying, "But yes...a great story, but indeed a very sad one...I am a wanderer by choice, not by curse. It is a hard life, and not one that's kind to thrust upon anyone. I would imagine though your people have grown very familiar with many details of the lands you visit though, no? I'm sure you could fill a whole library with details of the countless paths that you have walked."
He isn't telling the full story, of course. Rinn is a wanderer by choice, but he is likewise not welcomed by his original family; he lost those welcoming when he chose being a traveler instead of following the family traditions.
Agnes rests her head on her hands, listening with her eyes as well as her ears as she watches Arturi with rapt attention. She had grown up hearing stories around fires--true tellings of local legend, harrowing tales of fortune and adventure, and haunting stories of the night. Her personal favorite were always the love stories, even if the tale was tragic. No, especially when the tale was tragic.
Arturi's tale is sad in its own way. "Golly, I can't imagine being run 'way from home! Home is where yer heart is, as they say. So many memories. It must be awfully sad for yer people to not be able to return. Even a caravan ought to have a base. Is there anywhere ya can claim to have a home, nowadays?"
"Not as much." Arturi answered with a shrug. Although it was not clear if he was answering whether or not any within the Vistani had ever attempted to break their own curse, or the question regarding whether or not this caravan had a home base. The answer, perhaps, applied equally to each question.
"But something tells Arturi that you did not moonshift and track me as a wolf simply to ask where we lay our heads at night."
The heroes had been very careful in tracking the Vistani, and until that moment, had been certain that the druid's use of wildshape had gone unnoticed by their quarry.
The Vistani man grinned as the heroes realized that the caravan group had very likely known they were being followed.
"What is it you would ask of me, adventurers?" He asked, bringing the conversation to a point.
"If it is within my power — and you can pay the price, of course — then it is yours."
Toadstool is a bit thrown off from the directness of Arturi. Also from the fact that he is talking about himself in 3rd person.
Regardless, Toadstool nervously continues the conversation: "Hehe you seem to have eyes in the back of your head yes indeed. We mean no disrespect, no disrespect at all. We, we have things what we need, what we require yes, but your past, no your story is truly fascinating. If, if we make our requests without beating around the bushes, it would be nice, no lovely if you told more about Vistani."
Toadstool looks at his companions and continues: "We are here to talk, no to ask about the goblin king, the Grimgnaw and, and about his ally, no partner Rat king. They seem to be up to no good. Only devastation and scorched earth is left where they've been, where they've went. We would really appreciate knowledge. We, we probably can barter about this."
Rinn and Rachael is also taken by surprised by how the Vistani had noticed their plans, though that might explain how they seemed so ready to welcome them. Rachael thinks to Rinn, "Best be careful. This merchant is clearly very sly." Rinn acknowledges the warning, but he also can't help but be a tiny bit impressed.
He listens, taking in the shifting situation, and after his companions speak, he adds, "I'm sure that your people would know about these lands, Aturi, and those who you do business with; it's why we sought you out. Further, I'm sure that you can sympathize with the cause to keep this Goblin King from destroying even more homes and lives than he already has." Rinn is trying to persuade Arturi, linking the plight of the people of this land to that of the Vistani. (Persuasion: 6 + 0 = 6. Ouch.)
As he says these words, however, Rinn finds himself fumbling a bit with his words, stammering a bit, and thus making them all-the-less effective. While is impressed, clearly he is thrown off more than he initially thought from the shift in the conversation. "Very sly indeed," thinks Rinn to Rachael, frustrated in losing his calm.
As the heroes sat around the fire, the warmth of the flames did little to ease the tension that grew in the air. Arturi, the caravan master, leaned back against the wheel of a a brightly painted wagon, his eyes reflecting the firelight as he listened to the party's plea. When they finished, he took a deep breath, his expression contemplative.
"I understand your concerns," Arturi began, his voice calm and measured. "We Vistani are traders. We travel these lands, and we deal with many different people. Goblins, villagers, nobles, outlaws. To us, it is business."
"If we were to choose sides in every conflict we encountered, we would soon have no allies left and no safe roads to travel. The goblins of the Shadowfang caverns have been fair trading partners, and we need their goodwill just as much as we might need yours."
"But," He said, raising a finger. "Just as I will not act against Grimgnaw ... neither will I will interfere with you and yours."
"You seek the village. Indeed, I can point you toward it. There is a broad, slow moving river just south of here. Follow it west until you reach where it forks near a grand and ancient oak tree. From there, head south. The village of South Fork is nestled by that river, a day's journey at most."
To Toadstool, then. "From one moon brother to another. Ware the company the goblinkin keep."
"The moon has many blessings for those who revere her and hold her to be sacred. Roderick is not as blessed as we."
OOC — The party's persuasion attempt to sway the Vistani in support of the villagers was unsuccessful.
"I appreciate the balance you must keep," Yaudara says to Arturi. "You must look after an entire group's safety, after all. Thank you for the information. Given the angle of the sun, it may be best for us to rest here, if you'll allow it, and strike out early for the village."
He turns to the others. "What do you think? I understand time is of the essence, but we must also arrive at South Fork fresh enough to fight."
Rinn nods, a bit frustrated with himself for having fumbled as he did, but saying to Arturi, "Thank you good sir. While having you on our side would be most welcomed, I suppose the world does not always allow us easy choices. I do hope that my companions and I can pay you back in some way for your information, and if you would allow us to stay here for the evening? Perhaps we could keep each other safe by helping with guard duties?"
He nods towards Yaundara as he's saying all this, seconding the paladin's words.
Of course, Rinn is also thinking about what to give the Vistani for the information, because they were helpful and did point them to South Fork. He supposes a few gold pieces would be a nice gesture, especially as they've been rather welcoming despite the situation that has brought the two groups together. The elf have met many people on the road, but so often they can be rather uninviting.
Toadstool: "Well, thank you, yes, thank you for the directions. I really hope your help will make a difference, yes."
Toadstool bows a bit as a gesture of gratitude. Then continues: "We are not very rich, no not at all, but, but what we lack in funds, no in coin, we make up in, in uhm capabilities yes. We don't want you to harm your relationships with, with the goblinkin nooo, not at all. But maybe, maybe we can offer our service of sorts for uhm small piece of information, no a hint that, that might help us? What are they purchasing, no buying from you or, or why exactly Roderick is uhm well like you described? Or or maybe you have wares that could aide, no help us?"
Persuasion of 7 (oh lowrollarz.....)
And after that he just says in druidic without any stutter:
Indeed, the idea of perhaps doing the Vistani a favor is preferable to Rinn than handing over any of the party's gold. He nods as Toadstool says this, agreeing that that would seem like a reasonable idea.
(OOC: Plus, you know, who knows about potential adventure hooks. I'm a big fan of Ravenloft, so I have a soft spot for the Vistani anyways.)
Arturi politely declined Toadstool's offer of service.
After the orc spoke to the caravan master using his druidic dialect ... a blank look came over the Vistani. It was clear that he did not understand the words. Toadstool came to understand that when Arturi used the term 'moon brother' he did not mean it to exclusively mean a druid.
"Apologies," Arturi said. "I do not know that tongue."
"You are welcome to share our camp," Arturi said, switching topics and waving a hand to indicate the immediate area. "But we will not be conducting any business."
OOC — The second Charisma (persuasion) attempt has failed as well. This social encounter has come to an end, gang. Arturi and the Vistani will offer no aid and remain indifferent. I'd like to keep these types of rolls to a minimum please (reference OOC post #999).
Looks like the party's plan is to spend the evening in the Vistani camp and then proceed to the village of South Fork in the morning. I will get a post up to set the next scene in a few days. Feel free to use this time to discuss IC plans between PCs or continue the conversation with Arturi.
Toadstool apologizes very sincerely: "I, I assumed, that you know, no that you speak druidic from your comments. My apologies. It is just so rare to meet another one like me, a druid."
After that Toadstool finds an unoccupied space near the caravan and makes his bed. Snacks on another goodberry and waves others towards him offers goodberries to everyone else too. "I, I think we should rest now and, and leave, no go to the village tomorrow. Vistani seems friendly, but, but at least I will stay up for 2 hours, yes I will."
The evening passed uneventfully and the heroes awoke to an eerie stillness. A morning fog cloaked the clearing in a soft, ghostly veil. They quickly realized the Vistani caravan was gone, having departed silently in the night without so much as a rustle to disturb their slumber. A sense of unease settled over the party, the uncanny departure suggesting magic of some sort had been at play.
The warlock, Agnes, was gone as well. She had left a hastily scrawled note explaining her decision to seek her fortunes with the Vistani.
The party followed Arturi's directions, traversing along the riverbank. By the early afternoon, they came upon the ancient oak tree that marked where the river split. A towering, ancient oak tree with a trunk so wide it would take several people linking hands to encircle it. The tree's gnarled branches stretched skyward, and its deep roots burrowed into the earth. Nearby, there was a stone circle, each rock etched with cryptic symbols and runes, hinting at the village's connection to old, forgotten traditions.
The village of South Fork was just to the south of the tree and the fork in the river.
It was a small, rustic village, with buildings constructed from weathered wood and stone. Thatch-roofed cottages lined the narrow, winding streets, and the faint smell of smoke from morning hearth fires lingered in the air. Villagers went about their tasks with quiet efficiency, their faces bearing the hardiness of those accustomed to the challenges of rural life.
As the heroes made their way through the village, they noticed an unusual number of twin children among the villagers. The twins often moved in sync, speaking to one another in hushed tones, their shared glances filled with a profound, unspoken understanding.
The party was greeted by one of the village elders, a stooped, white-haired old man with a weathered face etched by years. His milky, sightless eyes were a stark contrast to the sharpness of his other senses, missing nothing despite his blindness. He leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden staff.
OOC — A long rest occurred. In the interest of introducing the new players quickly, I did not roll for any random encounters through the evening. I also hand-waved the wilderness exploration segment of the travel. I will also deduct three of the goodberries from Toadstool's supply to account for rations eaten during this new adventuring day.
@DeltaEdge27, @MonoPeace, feel free to introduce your characters to this scene any time you wish. Both Mal'thrae and Orann have been at the village of South Fork for at least a day or two and they know one another (if they met after arriving at the village or knew one another traveling before that is up to you guys). When you post, please let us know how your character came to be at South Fork. Mal'thrae and Orann would know that the blind villager's name is Eamon, and that he is something of a shaman or seer among his people.
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Rinn is following the lead of his companions, having a slight smirk as he watches the oft-stammering orc druid take control of the situation. He seems seem to be more relaxed in this place; it's a nice change of pace compared to how nervous Toadstool seemed while they were in Havenford.
The elf is definitely taking note of his surroundings, thinking about what and/or if he's heard of these wandering people (History: 19 + 3 = 22). Rachael is staying hidden, keeping an eye too from her vantage point from within the wizard's backpack.
"I'm sure that a wandering folk like yourselves have much that you could tell," remarks Rinn, setting his bag down by his leg as he's sitting by the fire, "Indeed, I have many stories I could tell as well for those wanting to hear. I've seen much traveling as a member of my order, but of course, as a man of knowledge, I will pay if the information is useful enough to my needs."
He takes a few sips from his own waterskin and asks, "Perhaps there are things that you wish to know, Mr. Arturi?"
"My people are ... wanderers, after a fashion." Arturi admitted. "In those travels, I've not noticed hearing of the Traveling Blum's."
It struck Agnes as an odd choice of words. She got the distinct impression that 'had not noticed' was being used linguistically in the same sense as 'do not remember.' It was curious. The turn of phrase might have been something as simple as a word that got lost in translation ... or perhaps the choice of words spoke to something deeper. Possibly, to these people's vastly different experience with time & memory.
Arturi continued, removing his hat, revealing a tangled mess of unruly, raven-dark, curly hair. "The Vistani, you see, are a people without homeland."
He softened his visage somewhat, as if clearing unwelcome thoughts.
"We are an ancient people. Our tales are as old as the hills. Our sagas are passed down in the oral tradition from one generation to the next. We were smiths, shepherds, herbalists, entertainers, healers. There were few among us who could count themselves as warriors."
"We are named after an ancient pledge we made to a foreign warrior-king. Vistani ... the followers of Vistan."
"Ages ago, in a time before memory ... we were led away from our homes. Led astray, and then abandoned to our fates."
"A man came to us promising wealth — a great general named Vistan. He rallied us to his cause, lured us in with coin ... and we followed his men into war. We worked his forges. Shoed his horses, kept them groomed and well fed. We tended to his wounded knights." Here Arturi raised a finger, making a distinction. "But we never took up the sword."
"Vistan was not our king, nor was he our enemy, but his wealth was great and his army was well provisioned. Westward we followed him. Across distant lands we had not noticed before. Empire after empire fell before his armies. Like grains before the scythe."
"His cause was not ours, nor did he share with us any spoils of war, and yet his defeat — when it arrived — was shared among all who followed him."
"In some faraway land, Vistan was crushed by the warriors of a nameless god. All of the general's legions were taken up as slaves. You will notice that we had never taken up the sword, and thus we found ourselves spared. The yoke of bondage was never placed upon us."
"But neither were we allowed to settle or return to our home, for when the conquering army expelled us from their lands, they decreed that the way home would forever be forbidden to us."
"'Vistani' they named us, and laid a curse at our feet, vowing that our lives would be forfeit if our vardos — the painted wagons of our people — ever faced east."
"In some lands, we are called the Rhennee, in some of the more forgotten places we are called the Gur, and in yet others our people are named the Romany ... but it is by our greatest folly that we shall always be remembered."
"Thus," He said with a simple bow and a flourish. "We are — and shall always be — Vistani."
Bringing the tale to a close, Arturi's face took on a wistful appearance.
"Vistan was not our king, nor was he our enemy ... yet forever we bear his name ... and will forever be haunted by the allegiances we made."
OOC — Even among those of you with knowledge of various peoples and distant lands ... none of you have ever heard of the Vistani — or the Rhennee (Greyhawk), or the Gur (Forgotten Realms), or the Romany (Earth) — before this moment.
Toadstool listens carefully and with great interest. He is genuinely comfortable with them as his past is a bit similar to theirs. "Oh this is a great story, great story indeed. Sad, but great. I am just like you in a way, yes. I too did not take up sword when my tribe made me to. That is a great shame, no dishonor for an orc to avoid the warpath. Still did it. Cast out and banished for that yes. Has, has anyone tried to break your curse?"
Yaudara leans in, eager to hear the answer to Toadstool's question, and keeping in the back of his mind to ask where the endangered village of South Fork is later.
Rinn finds this story to be intriguing indeed, and as an elf, he greatly appreciates the way in which Arturi weaves the words, flowing with a kind a rhythm that reminds him of a song. He nods in agreement with Toadstool, saying, "A great story indeed. I can tell that you've told it many a time, Mister Arturi. Perhaps you have experience with the oratory arts?"
After a moment to linger on the words, Rinn continues his original thought, saying, "But yes...a great story, but indeed a very sad one...I am a wanderer by choice, not by curse. It is a hard life, and not one that's kind to thrust upon anyone. I would imagine though your people have grown very familiar with many details of the lands you visit though, no? I'm sure you could fill a whole library with details of the countless paths that you have walked."
He isn't telling the full story, of course. Rinn is a wanderer by choice, but he is likewise not welcomed by his original family; he lost those welcoming when he chose being a traveler instead of following the family traditions.
Agnes rests her head on her hands, listening with her eyes as well as her ears as she watches Arturi with rapt attention. She had grown up hearing stories around fires--true tellings of local legend, harrowing tales of fortune and adventure, and haunting stories of the night. Her personal favorite were always the love stories, even if the tale was tragic. No, especially when the tale was tragic.
Arturi's tale is sad in its own way. "Golly, I can't imagine being run 'way from home! Home is where yer heart is, as they say. So many memories. It must be awfully sad for yer people to not be able to return. Even a caravan ought to have a base. Is there anywhere ya can claim to have a home, nowadays?"
"Not as much." Arturi answered with a shrug. Although it was not clear if he was answering whether or not any within the Vistani had ever attempted to break their own curse, or the question regarding whether or not this caravan had a home base. The answer, perhaps, applied equally to each question.
"But something tells Arturi that you did not moonshift and track me as a wolf simply to ask where we lay our heads at night."
The heroes had been very careful in tracking the Vistani, and until that moment, had been certain that the druid's use of wildshape had gone unnoticed by their quarry.
The Vistani man grinned as the heroes realized that the caravan group had very likely known they were being followed.
"What is it you would ask of me, adventurers?" He asked, bringing the conversation to a point.
"If it is within my power — and you can pay the price, of course — then it is yours."
Toadstool is a bit thrown off from the directness of Arturi. Also from the fact that he is talking about himself in 3rd person.
Regardless, Toadstool nervously continues the conversation: "Hehe you seem to have eyes in the back of your head yes indeed. We mean no disrespect, no disrespect at all. We, we have things what we need, what we require yes, but your past, no your story is truly fascinating. If, if we make our requests without beating around the bushes, it would be nice, no lovely if you told more about Vistani."
Toadstool looks at his companions and continues: "We are here to talk, no to ask about the goblin king, the Grimgnaw and, and about his ally, no partner Rat king. They seem to be up to no good. Only devastation and scorched earth is left where they've been, where they've went. We would really appreciate knowledge. We, we probably can barter about this."
"We heard that a village, South Fork, was in danger from them, and we'd like to know where that village is, so we can help protect it," Yaudara adds.
Rinn and Rachael is also taken by surprised by how the Vistani had noticed their plans, though that might explain how they seemed so ready to welcome them. Rachael thinks to Rinn, "Best be careful. This merchant is clearly very sly." Rinn acknowledges the warning, but he also can't help but be a tiny bit impressed.
He listens, taking in the shifting situation, and after his companions speak, he adds, "I'm sure that your people would know about these lands, Aturi, and those who you do business with; it's why we sought you out. Further, I'm sure that you can sympathize with the cause to keep this Goblin King from destroying even more homes and lives than he already has." Rinn is trying to persuade Arturi, linking the plight of the people of this land to that of the Vistani. (Persuasion: 6 + 0 = 6. Ouch.)
As he says these words, however, Rinn finds himself fumbling a bit with his words, stammering a bit, and thus making them all-the-less effective. While is impressed, clearly he is thrown off more than he initially thought from the shift in the conversation. "Very sly indeed," thinks Rinn to Rachael, frustrated in losing his calm.
As the heroes sat around the fire, the warmth of the flames did little to ease the tension that grew in the air. Arturi, the caravan master, leaned back against the wheel of a a brightly painted wagon, his eyes reflecting the firelight as he listened to the party's plea. When they finished, he took a deep breath, his expression contemplative.
"I understand your concerns," Arturi began, his voice calm and measured. "We Vistani are traders. We travel these lands, and we deal with many different people. Goblins, villagers, nobles, outlaws. To us, it is business."
"If we were to choose sides in every conflict we encountered, we would soon have no allies left and no safe roads to travel. The goblins of the Shadowfang caverns have been fair trading partners, and we need their goodwill just as much as we might need yours."
"But," He said, raising a finger. "Just as I will not act against Grimgnaw ... neither will I will interfere with you and yours."
"You seek the village. Indeed, I can point you toward it. There is a broad, slow moving river just south of here. Follow it west until you reach where it forks near a grand and ancient oak tree. From there, head south. The village of South Fork is nestled by that river, a day's journey at most."
To Toadstool, then. "From one moon brother to another. Ware the company the goblinkin keep."
"The moon has many blessings for those who revere her and hold her to be sacred. Roderick is not as blessed as we."
OOC — The party's persuasion attempt to sway the Vistani in support of the villagers was unsuccessful.
"I appreciate the balance you must keep," Yaudara says to Arturi. "You must look after an entire group's safety, after all. Thank you for the information. Given the angle of the sun, it may be best for us to rest here, if you'll allow it, and strike out early for the village."
He turns to the others. "What do you think? I understand time is of the essence, but we must also arrive at South Fork fresh enough to fight."
Rinn nods, a bit frustrated with himself for having fumbled as he did, but saying to Arturi, "Thank you good sir. While having you on our side would be most welcomed, I suppose the world does not always allow us easy choices. I do hope that my companions and I can pay you back in some way for your information, and if you would allow us to stay here for the evening? Perhaps we could keep each other safe by helping with guard duties?"
He nods towards Yaundara as he's saying all this, seconding the paladin's words.
Of course, Rinn is also thinking about what to give the Vistani for the information, because they were helpful and did point them to South Fork. He supposes a few gold pieces would be a nice gesture, especially as they've been rather welcoming despite the situation that has brought the two groups together. The elf have met many people on the road, but so often they can be rather uninviting.
Toadstool: "Well, thank you, yes, thank you for the directions. I really hope your help will make a difference, yes."
Toadstool bows a bit as a gesture of gratitude. Then continues: "We are not very rich, no not at all, but, but what we lack in funds, no in coin, we make up in, in uhm capabilities yes. We don't want you to harm your relationships with, with the goblinkin nooo, not at all. But maybe, maybe we can offer our service of sorts for uhm small piece of information, no a hint that, that might help us? What are they purchasing, no buying from you or, or why exactly Roderick is uhm well like you described? Or or maybe you have wares that could aide, no help us?"
Persuasion of 7 (oh lowrollarz.....)
And after that he just says in druidic without any stutter:
Rare to meet a brother of the moon! Well met!
Indeed, the idea of perhaps doing the Vistani a favor is preferable to Rinn than handing over any of the party's gold. He nods as Toadstool says this, agreeing that that would seem like a reasonable idea.
(OOC: Plus, you know, who knows about potential adventure hooks. I'm a big fan of Ravenloft, so I have a soft spot for the Vistani anyways.)
Arturi politely declined Toadstool's offer of service.
After the orc spoke to the caravan master using his druidic dialect ... a blank look came over the Vistani. It was clear that he did not understand the words. Toadstool came to understand that when Arturi used the term 'moon brother' he did not mean it to exclusively mean a druid.
"Apologies," Arturi said. "I do not know that tongue."
"You are welcome to share our camp," Arturi said, switching topics and waving a hand to indicate the immediate area. "But we will not be conducting any business."
OOC — The second Charisma (persuasion) attempt has failed as well. This social encounter has come to an end, gang. Arturi and the Vistani will offer no aid and remain indifferent. I'd like to keep these types of rolls to a minimum please (reference OOC post #999).
Looks like the party's plan is to spend the evening in the Vistani camp and then proceed to the village of South Fork in the morning. I will get a post up to set the next scene in a few days. Feel free to use this time to discuss IC plans between PCs or continue the conversation with Arturi.
Toadstool apologizes very sincerely: "I, I assumed, that you know, no that you speak druidic from your comments. My apologies. It is just so rare to meet another one like me, a druid."
After that Toadstool finds an unoccupied space near the caravan and makes his bed. Snacks on another goodberry and waves others towards him offers goodberries to everyone else too. "I, I think we should rest now and, and leave, no go to the village tomorrow. Vistani seems friendly, but, but at least I will stay up for 2 hours, yes I will."
Yaudara watches the interaction, then nods to Toadstool. "Agreed. We should be safe here, but let's alternate watches and remain alert."
17 perception for Toads watch
The evening passed uneventfully and the heroes awoke to an eerie stillness. A morning fog cloaked the clearing in a soft, ghostly veil. They quickly realized the Vistani caravan was gone, having departed silently in the night without so much as a rustle to disturb their slumber. A sense of unease settled over the party, the uncanny departure suggesting magic of some sort had been at play.
The warlock, Agnes, was gone as well. She had left a hastily scrawled note explaining her decision to seek her fortunes with the Vistani.
The party followed Arturi's directions, traversing along the riverbank. By the early afternoon, they came upon the ancient oak tree that marked where the river split. A towering, ancient oak tree with a trunk so wide it would take several people linking hands to encircle it. The tree's gnarled branches stretched skyward, and its deep roots burrowed into the earth. Nearby, there was a stone circle, each rock etched with cryptic symbols and runes, hinting at the village's connection to old, forgotten traditions.
The village of South Fork was just to the south of the tree and the fork in the river.
It was a small, rustic village, with buildings constructed from weathered wood and stone. Thatch-roofed cottages lined the narrow, winding streets, and the faint smell of smoke from morning hearth fires lingered in the air. Villagers went about their tasks with quiet efficiency, their faces bearing the hardiness of those accustomed to the challenges of rural life.
As the heroes made their way through the village, they noticed an unusual number of twin children among the villagers. The twins often moved in sync, speaking to one another in hushed tones, their shared glances filled with a profound, unspoken understanding.
The party was greeted by one of the village elders, a stooped, white-haired old man with a weathered face etched by years. His milky, sightless eyes were a stark contrast to the sharpness of his other senses, missing nothing despite his blindness. He leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden staff.
OOC — A long rest occurred. In the interest of introducing the new players quickly, I did not roll for any random encounters through the evening. I also hand-waved the wilderness exploration segment of the travel. I will also deduct three of the goodberries from Toadstool's supply to account for rations eaten during this new adventuring day.
@DeltaEdge27, @MonoPeace, feel free to introduce your characters to this scene any time you wish. Both Mal'thrae and Orann have been at the village of South Fork for at least a day or two and they know one another (if they met after arriving at the village or knew one another traveling before that is up to you guys). When you post, please let us know how your character came to be at South Fork. Mal'thrae and Orann would know that the blind villager's name is Eamon, and that he is something of a shaman or seer among his people.