Not all Barovians have souls, they've been in short supply for a long time.
All Vistani are gifted with one, but many among the peasantry have not. They are used as food for the Vampyr's spawn. They are like beasts in the field unable to laugh or cry. You will know them when you met them, they are but living constructs. For a spawn to attack a Vistani starts an undead hunt if we can only find which of them did it. We will petition the Prince for more information, and rely on the words of Madam Eva.
They wanted you to turn around and not enter the Enchanted gates of Barovia.
The morning started late, men and women hung over from the wake. Breakfast was cold meat and more of the soulcakes. The Vistani had donned red coloured clothing, heavily embroidered. They are going to the Village to Trade and now look the part of wealthy merchants.
Towering trees, whose tops are lost in heavy gray mist, block out all but a death-gray light. The tree trunks are unnaturally close to one another, and the woods have the silence of a forgotten grave, yet exude the feeling of an unvoiced scream.
"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."
Illmirth receives Lorelei's hand, meets her gaze with his own deep blue eyes, and replies, "I too am pleased to have met you, Lorelei, pleased to have met you all. My people are often a product and victim of the maddness of Lloth, the Spider Queen. When I escaped the Underdark I discovered freedom, not just from my own wicked family, but freedom from the dark indoctrination of mistrust and hate. Freedom to choose. My choice is to live each day like it could be my last, to spread and receive joy through music, and to help the goodly folk where I can. It is the latter, I believe, which will bind us together, giving us strength to face what this dark place may throw at it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
The caravans move on at a sedate pace finally reaching the outskirts of the Village of Barovia.
Tall shapes loom out of the dense fog that surrounds everything. The muddy ground underfoot gives way to slick, wet cobblestones. The tall shapes become recognizable as village dwellings. The windows of each house stare out from pools of blackness. No sound cuts the silence except for mournful sobbing that echoes through the streets from a distance.
Viktor reaches out to Murdock, here take this it is a map of the village to help you orient yourselves. We are heading to the tavern and the mercantile. That should give you enough time to investigate the Burgomeisters home and to see what has happened to Ireena. If you can do nothing then come with us back to our main camp and meet Madam Eva.
Be wary we are near Castle Ravenloft, it is best not to travel at night here. Here take this oil, it is made from essence of garlic for weapons. Share it around.
It had initially troubled the Paladin that he'd not heard a peep of Viktor after his question, though the continued repose of his unlikely companions in the face of this change in pace have since allayed these forgone concerns. Twould seem they intend to continue. Good. He would be remiss if he'd been forced to march on alone.
He feels guilt about not having been able to avail the young Lathander priestess of his experiences, but with age comes... fog. Old, faded thoughts, swirling in mists and hidden in darkness. He could not remember. Nor then could he remember the seal on the letter. Mayhaps he knew, mayhaps he did not.
The funeral procession is a strange one, though the old man finds it key not to involve himself too closely. If the goal is to drink and be merry for the soul lost, he would be poor company, awash in temperance and pensive befuddlement. The disrespect was not lost upon him, and so throughout, he was sure to pray for the peaceful trek of the man's forelorn soul, though he knew not where it might ultimately go.
The next day is... intriguing. Horrifying to a servant devoted to light and joy, but intriguing to the man beneath. Never mind the map, which appears aaccentuated by a mishmash of winding streets and aged hovels. The air feels off, tense but empty. It strikes a nervous chord in the old slayer of undead. No. Not nervous. Excited. He's excited by the prospect of hunting once more, after all these years. One last time.
He's so lost in this eager fugue, he wordlessly takes the garlic vial with a slight nod, passing it back to his nearest companion with hardly a word. The settlement is sizeable, far more complex in structure than he'd initially been inclined to believe.
**failed History roll means no in-depth discussion on Murdocks' past - yet**
I know that you and I are Hunters, someone to help or guard the innocent. Our Prince is cursed as Stanimir told you. It is why adventurers come here to try to make their fortunes and fight against the Vampyr spawn which live here. You have a greater purpose as you spread the light of the Morning Lord. There are clerics here of your religion but they have had a crisis of faith over the years the fog has dominated the land. Even Mother Nights followers are scared, as the Raven Queen she still keeps an eye over the land and raises her hand against the undead.
You and the young priestess will shine light in the Dark places here. The Vistani will help you as much as we can, you must come to see Madam Eva when you can.
Illmirth watched the raven intently, he tried to discern any sense of motive or any deceit in its words. This unexpected turn of events intrigued and unnerved him at the same time.
As the wagons rolled on Illmorth kept an eye out for the raven.
***insight: 10***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Vaelar takes a moment to assess the village as they enter. It is larger than he expected. Many souls have been cursed to live in this dark land it would seem. Forced to live out their days under constant threat from the vampyrs. Now he is one of them.
He traces a long, thin, pale finger across the map, searching for the Burgomeister's home. Finding it, he points it out to the others.
"Here. The man who sought our aid and then tried to dissuade us. Let us see what he has to say now."
"I agree, let us hear the words from the man himself. When we have the facts of the matter we can decide how to proceed." He gives a quick nod towards the ravens when he sees them settle onto the roof, making sure everyone notices them as well.
Using his waterskin, Illmirth cleans himself up as best he can. He washes off the dirt of the road, and fishes a clean shirt and vest out of his pack. The seasoned performer made the wardrobe change in record time, a veritable blur of dark, ashy gray skin and fabric as he doffed and donned like he was up in the next scene and the curtain was rising. Maybe not ready to meet the king, but presentable at least.
Turning to Viktor, "Your company and hospitslity will not be soon forgotten. We will seek out Madam Eva when we have concluded our business with our mysterious author. Thank you."
Turning back to the assembled party he bows , and with a flourish sweeps his arm out in a decidedly lead on manner.
In speaking with Annaletta the previous night, she was intrigued to hear her assessment. 'They are afraid of us?' she wondered. "Who do you mean?" she asked. "The vampyr spawn are afraid of us?"
With the night behind, she is excited to be entering into the village of Barovia. She too assures Viktor they will see Madam Eva as soon as they might. "I agree though, first we should see Kolyan Indirovich. I see no reason to delay."
Adventurers make their way here from time to time, but they are usually seeking dungeons or Palaces to plunder. You are the first that I know of that has contained undead hunters from the Morninglord. It means that they have not been forsaken by the gods. Even Mother Night is active. You are perhaps the only party that has the chance to lift the curse so life may return to normal here. Thus you are to be afraid of.
You walk down the street in search of the Burgomeisters House following Vaelar.
You notice people in the streets turn to stare at you, muttering with each other. Some of them look at you with dead eyes, their movements somewhat mechanical. It is these people that you'd been warned of. Those who had no soul.
Strange words to be spoken. Thoughts cascade to the forefront of Murdock's mind. Of days long gone. His days before Light and Dawn. Days when he still swung his axe, a headsman for his Queen. It was an entirely separate lifetime ago, an age he could scarcely stand to reminisce, let alone hearken. And yet, the moment draws a bittersweet note to the aged paladins very soul.
And with it, fear.
How does this man know of a past unspoken, of an oath unfulfilled, of a duty abandoned for a more... optimistic Divinity? His throat goes dry amidst stark uncertainty swirling about, prompting the man to draw a sip from his skin as the party separates from their Vistani entourage. The man takes but a moment to utter a hoarse "Thanketh thee," before turning to accompany the rest. He straightens once more when at last he walks on his own feet again. He keeps his shield on his back, instead wrapping his freer hand about the amulet in his pocket. Meanwhile his other palm rests upon the pommel of his blade, ready to draw if trouble is found before they reach their destination.
The young priestess with the blonde braided hair had smiled warmly back at the gallant drow. They had all been fortunate to have him along, keeping spirits up would most likely be crucial in these god-forsaken lands.
Lorelei would move along with the others, calling upon the light of her god to shine their way when the gloom became too oppressive. As they reached the village she joined up with the others as Viktor handed them the map, taking a look herself and commitng parts to memory, particularly the location of the church and the inn. She bids the Vistani farewell and nods in agreement with the others over visiting Madame Eva later. She then follows along to the Burgomeister's home, hoping to find more answers. The sight of the soulless villagers makes her heart heavy, and she tries to recall if her mentor had ever mentioned anything about them and what could be done to save them.
When you reach the imposing building you can see how shabby it has become, the shutters on the downstairs have claw marks in them and some of the stonework is crumbling. Lamps are lit in all the rooms regardless of it being a black and overcast day. The gate opens easily and you walk up to the door. There is a knocker in the shape of a deers antler.
The young priestess with the blonde braided hair briefly looks around at the others but then decides to step up to the door and use the deers antler knocker, taking a step back again to expectantly stand with her companions.
Loreleis mentor had never mentioned them the souless living, to her. It feels wrong that they are yet another form of undead, albeit without evil action. Perhaps breaking the Curse they'd be able to die properly.
A low whistle hangs in the air briefly and then is seemingly consumed by the gloom of this place. Illmirth had begun to softly whistle a happy tune as they walked, but joy felt out of place here. The villagers with lifeless eyes watched them walk by with the stare of one at his own wake. Perhaps a song will be in order when the job is done, but even the irrepressible bard could feel the heaviness in the air; it felt of a hopeless wait, like a condemned man's final hours. A small shudder ran down Illmirth's spine. He shook it off quickly and gave the group his best on stage smile; fake it 'till you make it, he reminded himself.
He stepped forward when Lorelei moved to open the door, close enough to lend aid if they were greeted with hostility, but also close enough to investigate the scratches on the windows. He summons four globes of softly glowing lights, illuminating the scratches in different places.
***investigation to determine the creature that made them and when: 14***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
The Raven
Illmirth stared at the raven expecting no answer to his words. It peered down at him, red eyes glowing and this time says Undead came
******************************************************************
Annaletta to Crisaryn
Not all Barovians have souls, they've been in short supply for a long time.
All Vistani are gifted with one, but many among the peasantry have not. They are used as food for the Vampyr's spawn. They are like beasts in the field unable to laugh or cry. You will know them when you met them, they are but living constructs. For a spawn to attack a Vistani starts an undead hunt if we can only find which of them did it. We will petition the Prince for more information, and rely on the words of Madam Eva.
They wanted you to turn around and not enter the Enchanted gates of Barovia.
They are afraid of you.
*******************************************************************************************
The Vistani camp
The morning started late, men and women hung over from the wake. Breakfast was cold meat and more of the soulcakes. The Vistani had donned red coloured clothing, heavily embroidered. They are going to the Village to Trade and now look the part of wealthy merchants.
Towering trees, whose tops are lost in heavy gray mist, block out all but a death-gray light. The tree trunks are unnaturally close to one another, and the woods have the silence of a forgotten grave, yet exude the feeling of an unvoiced scream.
Illmirth
"How many?" he asks the raven. "Could you show us where they went?"
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Illmirth
Illmirth receives Lorelei's hand, meets her gaze with his own deep blue eyes, and replies, "I too am pleased to have met you, Lorelei, pleased to have met you all. My people are often a product and victim of the maddness of Lloth, the Spider Queen. When I escaped the Underdark I discovered freedom, not just from my own wicked family, but freedom from the dark indoctrination of mistrust and hate. Freedom to choose. My choice is to live each day like it could be my last, to spread and receive joy through music, and to help the goodly folk where I can. It is the latter, I believe, which will bind us together, giving us strength to face what this dark place may throw at it."
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
The Raven tapped its beak against the rough bark then spoke again, Undead fly with bats, gone, gone to Castle.
Another Raven screeches and flies in to sit next to the talking Raven.
DM
The caravans move on at a sedate pace finally reaching the outskirts of the Village of Barovia.
Tall shapes loom out of the dense fog that surrounds everything. The muddy ground underfoot gives way to slick, wet cobblestones. The tall shapes become recognizable as village dwellings. The windows of each house stare out from pools of blackness. No sound cuts the silence except for mournful sobbing that echoes through the streets from a distance.
Viktor reaches out to Murdock, here take this it is a map of the village to help you orient yourselves. We are heading to the tavern and the mercantile. That should give you enough time to investigate the Burgomeisters home and to see what has happened to Ireena. If you can do nothing then come with us back to our main camp and meet Madam Eva.
Be wary we are near Castle Ravenloft, it is best not to travel at night here. Here take this oil, it is made from essence of garlic for weapons. Share it around.
Murdock
It had initially troubled the Paladin that he'd not heard a peep of Viktor after his question, though the continued repose of his unlikely companions in the face of this change in pace have since allayed these forgone concerns. Twould seem they intend to continue. Good. He would be remiss if he'd been forced to march on alone.
He feels guilt about not having been able to avail the young Lathander priestess of his experiences, but with age comes... fog. Old, faded thoughts, swirling in mists and hidden in darkness. He could not remember. Nor then could he remember the seal on the letter. Mayhaps he knew, mayhaps he did not.
The funeral procession is a strange one, though the old man finds it key not to involve himself too closely. If the goal is to drink and be merry for the soul lost, he would be poor company, awash in temperance and pensive befuddlement. The disrespect was not lost upon him, and so throughout, he was sure to pray for the peaceful trek of the man's forelorn soul, though he knew not where it might ultimately go.
The next day is... intriguing. Horrifying to a servant devoted to light and joy, but intriguing to the man beneath. Never mind the map, which appears aaccentuated by a mishmash of winding streets and aged hovels. The air feels off, tense but empty. It strikes a nervous chord in the old slayer of undead. No. Not nervous. Excited. He's excited by the prospect of hunting once more, after all these years. One last time.
He's so lost in this eager fugue, he wordlessly takes the garlic vial with a slight nod, passing it back to his nearest companion with hardly a word. The settlement is sizeable, far more complex in structure than he'd initially been inclined to believe.
**failed History roll means no in-depth discussion on Murdocks' past - yet**
DM
Viktor to Murdock
I know that you and I are Hunters, someone to help or guard the innocent. Our Prince is cursed as Stanimir told you. It is why adventurers come here to try to make their fortunes and fight against the Vampyr spawn which live here. You have a greater purpose as you spread the light of the Morning Lord. There are clerics here of your religion but they have had a crisis of faith over the years the fog has dominated the land. Even Mother Nights followers are scared, as the Raven Queen she still keeps an eye over the land and raises her hand against the undead.
You and the young priestess will shine light in the Dark places here. The Vistani will help you as much as we can, you must come to see Madam Eva when you can.
Illmirth
Illmirth watched the raven intently, he tried to discern any sense of motive or any deceit in its words. This unexpected turn of events intrigued and unnerved him at the same time.
As the wagons rolled on Illmorth kept an eye out for the raven.
***insight: 10***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
The pair of ravens follow the Caravan perching on the roofs of the village of Barovia.
Vaelar
Vaelar takes a moment to assess the village as they enter. It is larger than he expected. Many souls have been cursed to live in this dark land it would seem. Forced to live out their days under constant threat from the vampyrs. Now he is one of them.
He traces a long, thin, pale finger across the map, searching for the Burgomeister's home. Finding it, he points it out to the others.
"Here. The man who sought our aid and then tried to dissuade us. Let us see what he has to say now."
Illmirth
"I agree, let us hear the words from the man himself. When we have the facts of the matter we can decide how to proceed." He gives a quick nod towards the ravens when he sees them settle onto the roof, making sure everyone notices them as well.
Using his waterskin, Illmirth cleans himself up as best he can. He washes off the dirt of the road, and fishes a clean shirt and vest out of his pack. The seasoned performer made the wardrobe change in record time, a veritable blur of dark, ashy gray skin and fabric as he doffed and donned like he was up in the next scene and the curtain was rising. Maybe not ready to meet the king, but presentable at least.
Turning to Viktor, "Your company and hospitslity will not be soon forgotten. We will seek out Madam Eva when we have concluded our business with our mysterious author. Thank you."
Turning back to the assembled party he bows , and with a flourish sweeps his arm out in a decidedly lead on manner.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Crisaryn Melkial
In speaking with Annaletta the previous night, she was intrigued to hear her assessment. 'They are afraid of us?' she wondered. "Who do you mean?" she asked. "The vampyr spawn are afraid of us?"
With the night behind, she is excited to be entering into the village of Barovia. She too assures Viktor they will see Madam Eva as soon as they might. "I agree though, first we should see Kolyan Indirovich. I see no reason to delay."
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 || Satina Cindermark, Fighter || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
DM
Annaletta to Crisaryn
Adventurers make their way here from time to time, but they are usually seeking dungeons or Palaces to plunder. You are the first that I know of that has contained undead hunters from the Morninglord. It means that they have not been forsaken by the gods. Even Mother Night is active. You are perhaps the only party that has the chance to lift the curse so life may return to normal here. Thus you are to be afraid of.
Go now and seek the Burgomeister whilst we trade.
**************************************************************************
Viktor to Crisaryn
The Burgomeister fights the curse and will try to lift it from his daughter. Be prepared for trouble if you are still here tonight.
****************************************************************************
You walk down the street in search of the Burgomeisters House following Vaelar.
You notice people in the streets turn to stare at you, muttering with each other. Some of them look at you with dead eyes, their movements somewhat mechanical. It is these people that you'd been warned of. Those who had no soul.
Murdock
Strange words to be spoken. Thoughts cascade to the forefront of Murdock's mind. Of days long gone. His days before Light and Dawn. Days when he still swung his axe, a headsman for his Queen. It was an entirely separate lifetime ago, an age he could scarcely stand to reminisce, let alone hearken. And yet, the moment draws a bittersweet note to the aged paladins very soul.
And with it, fear.
How does this man know of a past unspoken, of an oath unfulfilled, of a duty abandoned for a more... optimistic Divinity? His throat goes dry amidst stark uncertainty swirling about, prompting the man to draw a sip from his skin as the party separates from their Vistani entourage. The man takes but a moment to utter a hoarse "Thanketh thee," before turning to accompany the rest. He straightens once more when at last he walks on his own feet again. He keeps his shield on his back, instead wrapping his freer hand about the amulet in his pocket. Meanwhile his other palm rests upon the pommel of his blade, ready to draw if trouble is found before they reach their destination.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young priestess with the blonde braided hair had smiled warmly back at the gallant drow. They had all been fortunate to have him along, keeping spirits up would most likely be crucial in these god-forsaken lands.
Lorelei would move along with the others, calling upon the light of her god to shine their way when the gloom became too oppressive. As they reached the village she joined up with the others as Viktor handed them the map, taking a look herself and commitng parts to memory, particularly the location of the church and the inn. She bids the Vistani farewell and nods in agreement with the others over visiting Madame Eva later. She then follows along to the Burgomeister's home, hoping to find more answers. The sight of the soulless villagers makes her heart heavy, and she tries to recall if her mentor had ever mentioned anything about them and what could be done to save them.
Religion/History: 11 + Guidance: 4
When you reach the imposing building you can see how shabby it has become, the shutters on the downstairs have claw marks in them and some of the stonework is crumbling. Lamps are lit in all the rooms regardless of it being a black and overcast day. The gate opens easily and you walk up to the door. There is a knocker in the shape of a deers antler.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young priestess with the blonde braided hair briefly looks around at the others but then decides to step up to the door and use the deers antler knocker, taking a step back again to expectantly stand with her companions.
DM to Lorelei
Loreleis mentor had never mentioned them the souless living, to her. It feels wrong that they are yet another form of undead, albeit without evil action. Perhaps breaking the Curse they'd be able to die properly.
Illmirth
A low whistle hangs in the air briefly and then is seemingly consumed by the gloom of this place. Illmirth had begun to softly whistle a happy tune as they walked, but joy felt out of place here. The villagers with lifeless eyes watched them walk by with the stare of one at his own wake. Perhaps a song will be in order when the job is done, but even the irrepressible bard could feel the heaviness in the air; it felt of a hopeless wait, like a condemned man's final hours. A small shudder ran down Illmirth's spine. He shook it off quickly and gave the group his best on stage smile; fake it 'till you make it, he reminded himself.
He stepped forward when Lorelei moved to open the door, close enough to lend aid if they were greeted with hostility, but also close enough to investigate the scratches on the windows. He summons four globes of softly glowing lights, illuminating the scratches in different places.
***investigation to determine the creature that made them and when: 14***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
Ireena
Go away, I don't know you, Leave now!
You hear the snarling of a hound beside his mistress.
You look around the outside of the house and see footprints of wolves and men...or should that be Vampyr?