Illmirth listens carefully, and makes a mental note to discuss this further with Murdock. "Thank you, I will inquire further with them." He knew from overhearing the priestesses in his youth that radiant energy was a good choice for most undead, but wanted to learn more.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
The fog spills out of the forest to swallow up the road behind you. Ahead, jutting from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road, are high stone buttresses looming gray in the fog. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework. Dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two headless statues of armed guardians flank the gate, their heads now lying among the weeds at their feet. They greet you only with silence.
As the caravan draws nearer the large gates open wide, there are no people there, it is just magic. The Vistani quite happily drive through it and then the gates close.
A little further along the road is a campsite, a circle of packed soil with fire stones at the centre. The Vistani parked their caravans to form a circle, and took the tack off the horses to let them graze. Then the men headed off into the forest to find boughs for the funeral pyre.
"I do not know your customs, but I should like to help you honor your fallen."
If permitted, Illmirth joins the men to gather fuel for the pyre. If they prefer to handle that alone he will keep busy with small tasks near the camp; helping with tents, gathering kindling for the smaller fires, whatever needs doing he will lend a hand with, softly humming or whistling a happy tune.
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Certainly a sorrow shared lightens the soul, we are looking for cedar trees, they are quite common here and burn with a fresh spicy scent. We'll cut the boughs from them and drag them back to camp. You are welcome along.
When the caravan stops, Crisaryn hops down from the bench where she was riding. For a moment she looks to see if Murdock might share the contents of the letter that was found. But in the meantime she asks one of the women, perhaps Annaletta, whether there is anything she can help with. As she talks to her she also asks a few questions. "Is it unusual for your people to be attacked by these vampyre spawn? Did you know Dimitri? Would he have just been out here alone?"
Death in Chauissin came with little fan fare. Ceremonies were reserved for the priestesses of Lady Chaos, or the unfortunare soul tied up on the altar. Loss was viewed through a lense of callous practicality; what they brought to the family talent or skill wise was missed, who they were was not.
Illmirth was not fascinated by death, he had seen plenty in his young life. It was the ritual itself, the ceremony, the grief which signified a deep personal connection that drew him. All so different than what he grew up with.
He silently gathered branches, hacking away with his old dagger. Efficient? No, but ultimately effective. He kept his head on a swivel, ever aware of his surroundings and never straying far from the caravan.
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
The old man is conflicted. The contents of the letter are troubling, to be sure. But it does not necessarily dissuade him from wanting to offer aid. His oath compels him to offer assistance, and his eagerness to again smite a wretched walker of undeath boils up within him. His mind is so embroiled with his own conflicting interests that he finds himself unable to think of much else.
When their new campsite is reached, the first thing Murdock does, aside from passing the message of the Burgomeisters' dejection to his fellow Lathanderite, is approach Viktor. "I wouldst assume thou'art read of the letter off'red." His eyes are determinably grave yet sharp all the same. "I wouldst request we proceed regardless. Mine mission demandeth a swift response. There art innocents languished. I am sworn to assist."
Dhampir are welcome here? In the land of a vampyr and its spawn? Vaelar does his best to hide his intense curiosity. He has lived in the darkness long enough to know that few who know of dhampir truly welcome them. He will stay hidden, at least until he can meet these other dhampir for himself.
He tries to avoid Viktor's attentions in case the Vistani saw him for what he was. Vaelar gathers branches by Illmirth's side, quietly helping the bard prepare for the funeral pyre.
"You are a talented musician," he offers with his same stern expression, though it is a genuine compliment.
"Thank you," the bard says with sincerity. "Much of my music favors the style of my people, but much I have learned among the surface folk. I enjoy the blend of them all; the marriage of cultures through art, or so I fancy it."
When he and Vaelar had amassed a nice pile of fresh cedar branches he nods back towards the camp, "Shall we?" he asks, and begins to drag his pile back to camp. He softly hummed as he walked, a new tune with a distinct nod to the Vistani's particular style.
It is rare for even a spawn to attack one of us, the master Vampyr? No not ever. Dimitri was a messenger. What he was doing so near the gates, I do not know. His horse will eventually find itself back home.
He had no caravan of his own, so we cremate him here instead of in a flaming vardo.
We could try the spirit board but his soul is unlikely to give us answers until he is cremated. Presently his soul walks, confused by his violent death.
Women set up the cooking fire and set to roasting a deer. Whilst the men dug out wine skins and musical instruments. It was a night to celebrate Life, in particular that of young Dimitri, a wake so his soul could pass over to reincarnation. They would eat his sins tonight.
The musicians played sets each taking a go at entertaining the crowd, Illmirth was asked to take part, his music being much appreciated. A large Raven watched from the trees, dead! it says
Plates of steaming hot venison are passed around, and another plate full of soulcakes (scones). Wineskins were handed round, it was traditional to drink well at a wake.
Those who knew Dimitri stood up and shared a memory to lighten grief. His childhood, and eventually being honoured by the rank of messenger all were spoken of. Viktor shared the time that Dimitri and he had quarrelled over the same woman, only to end with another Vistani taking her hand.
"It would be my great honor," Illmirth said with deep reverence. He didn't often accept the role of second fiddle with out a fight, but today he was very content to add to the music from the sideline.
Illmirth watched and listened for opportunities to enhance the music as it was played; a bit of soft lute to accompany a slow, melancholy vocal performance, subtle illusion magic to put a steady drum beat in place, the gentle sway or graceful step in time with the music (there was always some element of dance in his performances) or even lending his voice to a familiar chorus. This night, Dimitri was the focus, and his people's grief and customs would be honored by the so often boisterous drow.
Performance if needed: 14
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Thanking Annaletta for tolerating her questions, Crisaryn tells her. "No need to disturb any spirits. Thanks." She stays with her, trying to help out where she might. She watched the pyre with interest, but as the festivities began, she mostly kept to herself. She ate sparingly and drank out of consideration for the traditions, but not to excess. The raven caught her attention, recalling how it had heralded finding Dimitri's body in the same way. She studies the bird a bit, curious whether this sort of behavior from such a creature was common here in Barovia.
At times she watched the dancers and musicians. There was perhaps the faintest of smiles at the behavior of these people and the way the celebrated life to honor the man who had died. She was glad they had this ritual, even if she herself were not drawn to the revelry.
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair accepts the letter as it is offered by the old paladin. She reads it for herself and would show it to Crisaryn and any others who would be interested in it's contents. She would share that the message would not deter her from continuing their journey, there must still be hope for the burgomeisters adopted daughter.
She would be present at the funeral pyre, silently praying for the soul of Dimitri. Later she would sit and solemnly watch the celebrations but not taking part in them herself. Before turning in for the night she would approach the old paladin again. "I imagine you have seen much in your service of Lathander Murdock. Have you even faced a vampyr before?" She asks with some reverence.
Having finally been given a chance to read the letter, Crisaryn asks Lorelei, "This was the very letter Dimitri had been carrying? Was it meant for us as follow-on to the first requesting our aid?" She reads it again with interesting. "It seems very strongly to be warning us away. Yet, I find something interesting. Annaletta said it was rare for the vampyr spawn to attack one of the Vistani. Yet, this particular messenger was attacked. The one warning us away? Does that not suggest that the vampyr, or those allied with it, actually want us to come here?"
She shakes her head. "What different decisions might have been made had this letter been revealed sooner? Was there reason you followers of the light cult kept this hidden? Have Illmirth or Vaelar seen this?"
She hands off the letter to one of two mentioned men if they are somewhere at hand. Otherwise she gives it back to Lorelei with the suggestion that she make sure they each get a chance to see it as well.
The Burgomeister's letter does not deter Vaelar. He barely reacts upon reading it. He shrugs to Lorelei and offers it back to her. "This does not dissuade me." He has many reasons to stay in the accursed land now.
For the rest of the night he sits away from the fire, though he nods his respects towards it to honour the man who died to Barovia's monsters. He listens to the Vistani's celebrations of Dimitri's life and joins them in his own, reserved way. He speaks with any Vistani who step away from the revelry from a moment's rest, and asks them about their lives in this mist-veiled land.
"I just had the letter myself..." Lorelei says a bit defensively. "...but I doubt we could have made other choices if any of us had read it sooner. According to the Vistani we won't be able to return through the fog, well, unless we get adopted by the Vistain I suppose. I don't know what to think about this though. If the vampyr that killed Dmitri didn't want this message to reach us then why didn't they just take the message too. As far as I can see it might as well be that they want us to stay away by allowing us to find this discouraging letter. Either way, I don't see we have much of a choice now than proceed to Barovia." She says, seeming saddened over the other's distrust, but considering her reaction she quickly tries to find both Illmirth and Vaelar, showing them the letter so that they all could make their own informed decisions on how to proceed.
Illmirth takes the letter and reads it carefully. He rolls it up and hands it back to Lorelei.
"Two letters, one asking for aid, one a grim warning. The author of the two the same. I once heard it said that warnings apply only to the wise." Illmirth's thin white brows furrow in though. He breathes deeply, standing tall and says, "I for one would like to meet the author of these letters. Clearly there are people in need of aid, should that not be sufficient to guide our direction?
lllmirt paused mid thought when a raven perched in a nearby tree seemed to speak a single word. Dead. He found this odd on a number of levels, but unusual and interesting as well. He turned to the raven and met its gaze. "Speak ye facts, or a warning?" He asked the bird. He expected no answer but felt compelled to ask nonetheless.
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair is quite relieved with the calm and collected reactions of both the silent ranger and the less silent drow. She was still concerned about Crisaryn though and she wondered how she would win the other's trust and confidence. She feels a smile tug at her lips at Illmirth's comment about warnings. "We can't rule out we are being manipulated by the very creatures we have set out to defeat, we should be wary in our steps I believe, but that being said I agree fully, whatever the truth is here I'm sure there are indeed people in need of our help." She says with a warm smile to the drow. "I don't know how to put this without being offensive in any way but you are not at all what I would expect from a drow Illmirth, I'm glad to have made your acquaintance and I'm looking forward to having your company in the dark time ahead." She says, briefly taking the other's hand in a gesture of sincere gratitude.
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Illmirth
Illmirth listens carefully, and makes a mental note to discuss this further with Murdock. "Thank you, I will inquire further with them." He knew from overhearing the priestesses in his youth that radiant energy was a good choice for most undead, but wanted to learn more.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
The caravan train moves off again, this time the singing is subdued. They will be stopping early tonight to set a pyre for Dimitri.
They wouldn't reach the village of Barovia until mid day tomorrow.
DM
A couple of hours later.
The fog spills out of the forest to swallow up the road behind you. Ahead, jutting from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road, are high stone buttresses looming gray in the fog. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework. Dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two headless statues of armed guardians flank the gate, their heads now lying among the weeds at their feet. They greet you only with silence.
As the caravan draws nearer the large gates open wide, there are no people there, it is just magic. The Vistani quite happily drive through it and then the gates close.
A little further along the road is a campsite, a circle of packed soil with fire stones at the centre. The Vistani parked their caravans to form a circle, and took the tack off the horses to let them graze. Then the men headed off into the forest to find boughs for the funeral pyre.
Illmirth
"I do not know your customs, but I should like to help you honor your fallen."
If permitted, Illmirth joins the men to gather fuel for the pyre. If they prefer to handle that alone he will keep busy with small tasks near the camp; helping with tents, gathering kindling for the smaller fires, whatever needs doing he will lend a hand with, softly humming or whistling a happy tune.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
Viktor to Illmirth
Certainly a sorrow shared lightens the soul, we are looking for cedar trees, they are quite common here and burn with a fresh spicy scent. We'll cut the boughs from them and drag them back to camp. You are welcome along.
Crisaryn Melkial
When the caravan stops, Crisaryn hops down from the bench where she was riding. For a moment she looks to see if Murdock might share the contents of the letter that was found. But in the meantime she asks one of the women, perhaps Annaletta, whether there is anything she can help with. As she talks to her she also asks a few questions. "Is it unusual for your people to be attacked by these vampyre spawn? Did you know Dimitri? Would he have just been out here alone?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Illmirth
Death in Chauissin came with little fan fare. Ceremonies were reserved for the priestesses of Lady Chaos, or the unfortunare soul tied up on the altar. Loss was viewed through a lense of callous practicality; what they brought to the family talent or skill wise was missed, who they were was not.
Illmirth was not fascinated by death, he had seen plenty in his young life. It was the ritual itself, the ceremony, the grief which signified a deep personal connection that drew him. All so different than what he grew up with.
He silently gathered branches, hacking away with his old dagger. Efficient? No, but ultimately effective. He kept his head on a swivel, ever aware of his surroundings and never straying far from the caravan.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Murdock
The old man is conflicted. The contents of the letter are troubling, to be sure. But it does not necessarily dissuade him from wanting to offer aid. His oath compels him to offer assistance, and his eagerness to again smite a wretched walker of undeath boils up within him. His mind is so embroiled with his own conflicting interests that he finds himself unable to think of much else.
When their new campsite is reached, the first thing Murdock does, aside from passing the message of the Burgomeisters' dejection to his fellow Lathanderite, is approach Viktor. "I wouldst assume thou'art read of the letter off'red." His eyes are determinably grave yet sharp all the same. "I wouldst request we proceed regardless. Mine mission demandeth a swift response. There art innocents languished. I am sworn to assist."
Vaelar
Dhampir are welcome here? In the land of a vampyr and its spawn? Vaelar does his best to hide his intense curiosity. He has lived in the darkness long enough to know that few who know of dhampir truly welcome them. He will stay hidden, at least until he can meet these other dhampir for himself.
He tries to avoid Viktor's attentions in case the Vistani saw him for what he was. Vaelar gathers branches by Illmirth's side, quietly helping the bard prepare for the funeral pyre.
"You are a talented musician," he offers with his same stern expression, though it is a genuine compliment.
"I have not heard music like it in many years."
Illmirth
"Thank you," the bard says with sincerity. "Much of my music favors the style of my people, but much I have learned among the surface folk. I enjoy the blend of them all; the marriage of cultures through art, or so I fancy it."
When he and Vaelar had amassed a nice pile of fresh cedar branches he nods back towards the camp, "Shall we?" he asks, and begins to drag his pile back to camp. He softly hummed as he walked, a new tune with a distinct nod to the Vistani's particular style.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
Annaletta to Crisaryn
It is rare for even a spawn to attack one of us, the master Vampyr? No not ever. Dimitri was a messenger. What he was doing so near the gates, I do not know. His horse will eventually find itself back home.
He had no caravan of his own, so we cremate him here instead of in a flaming vardo.
We could try the spirit board but his soul is unlikely to give us answers until he is cremated. Presently his soul walks, confused by his violent death.
******************************************************************************************************
Viktor
The last of the tree boughs were dragged from the wood and placed in the form of a pyre. Viktor gave a wan smile to Illmirth and Vaelar.
The body was wrapped in a linen sheet and then doused by lantern oil. Viktor set his torch into the cedar and it spat as it caught.
*************************************************************************************************************
The Vistani Camp.
Women set up the cooking fire and set to roasting a deer. Whilst the men dug out wine skins and musical instruments. It was a night to celebrate Life, in particular that of young Dimitri, a wake so his soul could pass over to reincarnation. They would eat his sins tonight.
DM
The Vistani Camp
The musicians played sets each taking a go at entertaining the crowd, Illmirth was asked to take part, his music being much appreciated. A large Raven watched from the trees, dead! it says
Plates of steaming hot venison are passed around, and another plate full of soulcakes (scones). Wineskins were handed round, it was traditional to drink well at a wake.
Those who knew Dimitri stood up and shared a memory to lighten grief. His childhood, and eventually being honoured by the rank of messenger all were spoken of. Viktor shared the time that Dimitri and he had quarrelled over the same woman, only to end with another Vistani taking her hand.
Illmirth
"It would be my great honor," Illmirth said with deep reverence. He didn't often accept the role of second fiddle with out a fight, but today he was very content to add to the music from the sideline.
Illmirth watched and listened for opportunities to enhance the music as it was played; a bit of soft lute to accompany a slow, melancholy vocal performance, subtle illusion magic to put a steady drum beat in place, the gentle sway or graceful step in time with the music (there was always some element of dance in his performances) or even lending his voice to a familiar chorus. This night, Dimitri was the focus, and his people's grief and customs would be honored by the so often boisterous drow.
Performance if needed: 14
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Crisaryn Melkial
Thanking Annaletta for tolerating her questions, Crisaryn tells her. "No need to disturb any spirits. Thanks." She stays with her, trying to help out where she might. She watched the pyre with interest, but as the festivities began, she mostly kept to herself. She ate sparingly and drank out of consideration for the traditions, but not to excess. The raven caught her attention, recalling how it had heralded finding Dimitri's body in the same way. She studies the bird a bit, curious whether this sort of behavior from such a creature was common here in Barovia.
At times she watched the dancers and musicians. There was perhaps the faintest of smiles at the behavior of these people and the way the celebrated life to honor the man who had died. She was glad they had this ritual, even if she herself were not drawn to the revelry.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair accepts the letter as it is offered by the old paladin. She reads it for herself and would show it to Crisaryn and any others who would be interested in it's contents. She would share that the message would not deter her from continuing their journey, there must still be hope for the burgomeisters adopted daughter.
She would be present at the funeral pyre, silently praying for the soul of Dimitri. Later she would sit and solemnly watch the celebrations but not taking part in them herself.
Before turning in for the night she would approach the old paladin again. "I imagine you have seen much in your service of Lathander Murdock. Have you even faced a vampyr before?" She asks with some reverence.
Crisaryn Melkial
Having finally been given a chance to read the letter, Crisaryn asks Lorelei, "This was the very letter Dimitri had been carrying? Was it meant for us as follow-on to the first requesting our aid?" She reads it again with interesting. "It seems very strongly to be warning us away. Yet, I find something interesting. Annaletta said it was rare for the vampyr spawn to attack one of the Vistani. Yet, this particular messenger was attacked. The one warning us away? Does that not suggest that the vampyr, or those allied with it, actually want us to come here?"
She shakes her head. "What different decisions might have been made had this letter been revealed sooner? Was there reason you followers of the light cult kept this hidden? Have Illmirth or Vaelar seen this?"
She hands off the letter to one of two mentioned men if they are somewhere at hand. Otherwise she gives it back to Lorelei with the suggestion that she make sure they each get a chance to see it as well.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Vaelar
The Burgomeister's letter does not deter Vaelar. He barely reacts upon reading it. He shrugs to Lorelei and offers it back to her. "This does not dissuade me." He has many reasons to stay in the accursed land now.
For the rest of the night he sits away from the fire, though he nods his respects towards it to honour the man who died to Barovia's monsters. He listens to the Vistani's celebrations of Dimitri's life and joins them in his own, reserved way. He speaks with any Vistani who step away from the revelry from a moment's rest, and asks them about their lives in this mist-veiled land.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
"I just had the letter myself..." Lorelei says a bit defensively. "...but I doubt we could have made other choices if any of us had read it sooner. According to the Vistani we won't be able to return through the fog, well, unless we get adopted by the Vistain I suppose. I don't know what to think about this though. If the vampyr that killed Dmitri didn't want this message to reach us then why didn't they just take the message too. As far as I can see it might as well be that they want us to stay away by allowing us to find this discouraging letter. Either way, I don't see we have much of a choice now than proceed to Barovia." She says, seeming saddened over the other's distrust, but considering her reaction she quickly tries to find both Illmirth and Vaelar, showing them the letter so that they all could make their own informed decisions on how to proceed.
Illmirth
Illmirth takes the letter and reads it carefully. He rolls it up and hands it back to Lorelei.
"Two letters, one asking for aid, one a grim warning. The author of the two the same. I once heard it said that warnings apply only to the wise." Illmirth's thin white brows furrow in though. He breathes deeply, standing tall and says, "I for one would like to meet the author of these letters. Clearly there are people in need of aid, should that not be sufficient to guide our direction?
lllmirt paused mid thought when a raven perched in a nearby tree seemed to speak a single word. Dead. He found this odd on a number of levels, but unusual and interesting as well. He turned to the raven and met its gaze. "Speak ye facts, or a warning?" He asked the bird. He expected no answer but felt compelled to ask nonetheless.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair is quite relieved with the calm and collected reactions of both the silent ranger and the less silent drow. She was still concerned about Crisaryn though and she wondered how she would win the other's trust and confidence. She feels a smile tug at her lips at Illmirth's comment about warnings. "We can't rule out we are being manipulated by the very creatures we have set out to defeat, we should be wary in our steps I believe, but that being said I agree fully, whatever the truth is here I'm sure there are indeed people in need of our help." She says with a warm smile to the drow. "I don't know how to put this without being offensive in any way but you are not at all what I would expect from a drow Illmirth, I'm glad to have made your acquaintance and I'm looking forward to having your company in the dark time ahead." She says, briefly taking the other's hand in a gesture of sincere gratitude.