The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair is relieved to see the door to the inn open, feeling a smile tug at her lips as she watches the elderly woman with the frying pan, joining the women to take care of the children to herd them to safety and comfort after their harrowing experiences. Only when she felt they were properly cared for in every sense she would return to the others to share in a toast over the night's victory over evil, silently praying to her god and thanking him for saving the children from their cruel fate. Her mentor would be satisfied with her this night, that much she knew, but her concern over where he was now was ever present with her.
As he says this, the horrid darkness tracing his veins fades and his features lose their deathly, gaunt appearance. He looks once more like the stern, pale man that had walked into the inn earlier that night.
"Where did it come from?" he asks, looking down with disdain at the headless body of the loup garou.
Most of them are travellers set upon by dark powers in the Shadowfell not far from here. I'd feel sorry for them if I wasn't aware of their handiwork. Whole villages turned, children changed or killed. That is why we came here, the evil was spreading. Now it's done. Come away from there, we'll burn the bodies in the morning. Let's get a drink.
Aye lad, the outskirts of the Shadowfell surround us, be careful not to wander into the mist or it will take you with it when the sun rises. Now lets go and find out how good Simons best ale is.
The inn was heaving, all of the villagers seem to be there, all with cast off clothing, the cursed now normal again and ashamed at being naked. The children were all wearing cut down linen shirts, and were currently being fed by the woman with her frying pan I'll put them all to bed once they've eaten and stay with them so they'll have no fear of the dark.
Viktor arrived with a large clothes basket and the women passed it around skirts in bright colours, and embroidery shirts, not to mention the petticoats, and vests. These are the womens spare clothes they want you to have them, then he thrusts the basket into their hands, to have it snatched away with a roar of delight.
Aisha put flagons of ale into everyones hands, this was a celebration of Life.
The party found the same table vacant and headed to it.
The Harpers took up station on the barstools toasting the curse being lifted so easily.
When the people were clothed and wounds had been treated Illmirth, surveyed the scene with pride. A group of strangers, by fate or good fortune, had found themselves in position to lend their collective talents to the defense of Daggerford. A tale worthy of telling to be sure.
When the grim work of war was done, it was time to celebrate. If Illmirth was good in a fight, he was great at a party. He exchanged hearty handshakes and hugs with the rejoicing townsfolk. He toasted and cheered for the defenders of the town and the fortitude of the townsfolk in the face of such accursed evil. When the initial excitement of the moment settled to a dull roar, Illmirth recounted the tale of battle. He liberally sprinkles in minor illusion spells to set the mood or add dramatic effects.
He recounts the initial assault, a howl echoing throughout the room. "The heroics of the Harper's good works are told in song and verse up and down the sword coast! Vicktor's dazzling footwork and lightening fast strikes are also well-known to the fine folk of Daggerford!" He pauses for a moment, affording them their due recognition. His own contribution a long, enthusiastic whistle fueled by subtle magic. "Now hear of a new group of heroes, a group of strangers, by fate or fortune, convening on your fair town under the glow of a full moon. With whirling blades, Vaelar met the initial attack. Crisaryn added her magic to the fray, scorching foul fur with arcane fire! Tonight, when you hold your newly returned loved ones offer your gratitude to Lorelei, whose divine power freed them from the cruel grip of lycanthropy." he paused briefly for the thunderous applause and outpouring of adoration, as she was surely due. "My own might," he said jokingly while holding up his twig thin arm and making the equivalent of a bicep (if he had one) flex, "lay more in wit than weapon, so I laid low the foul beast with a joke! Then, bathed in the glowing light of Lathander, Murdock smote the vile abomination with his righteous blade. The cursed beast could not stand against the combined might of Viktor's dancing blade, the Harper's crushing blows, and our own relentless attacks!" Before returning to his fine wine, Illmirth has a final song for the evening. As he prefers too, he works the room directly, dancing, leaping, and whirling dramatically as space permits.
I can't believe the news today, Oh I can't close my eyes and make it go away. How long? How long must I sing this song? How long? How long?
Cause tonight, we will fight as one! Tonight.
Broken barriers and the children turned, bodies strewn across the moonlit street. Now we must heed the battles call. The werewolves had our back up, had our back up against the wall.
And the battle had begun, there's many lost, but tell me who has won? The curse was poison in their hearts, and mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart!
Sunday bloody Sunday....
When the final note fades, Illmirth bows deeply and rises, sweeping his arm out towards the defenders of Daggerford.
Crisaryn had slipped back inside the Inn with the others. Again, the group laid claim to the same table by the fire, and she hung her cloak nearby. "The town has certainly turned quickly to celebration," she comments as she drinks some of the ale that was provided. "Those Harpers proved quite adept, though you all did admirably as well." With another sip of her ale she adds, "I presume we will be back on the road come daylight?"
Suddenly, the tavern door swings open, and a hush falls over the room. Framed by the lamp-lit fog, a form strides through the doorway. His heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins shatter the silence. His brightly colored clothes are draped in loose folds about him, and his hat hangs askew, hiding his eyes in shadows. Without hesitation, he walks up to your table and stands proudly in a wide stance with folded arms.
Viktor and Annaletta nod their greeting to a fellow Vistani.
In an accented voice he says, "I have been sent to you to deliver this message. If you be creatures of honor, you will come to my Master's aid at first light. It is not advisable to travel the Svalich Woods at night!" He pulls from his tunic a sealed letter, addressed to all of you in beautiful flowing script. He drops the letter on the table. "Take the west road from here some five hours travel down through the Svalich Woods, with Vistani as company. There you will find my master in Barovia."
Amid the silent stares of the patronage, the man strides to the bar and says to the wary barkeep, "Fill the glasses, one and all. Their throats are obviously parched from the hunt" He drops a purse heavy with gold on the bar. With that, he leaves.
The babble of tavern voices resumes, although somewhat subdued. The letter is lying before you on the table. The seal is in the shape of a crest you don't recognize.
Does anyone recognise this seal?
Viktor looks stunned but says, come to the camp and find out more about our home. Let us drink and feast together. Stanimir will welcome you to our fire tonight.
The dark-haired woman watched as this Vistani messenger departed as hastily as he had arrived. She thus turns to Viktor when he offers for them to join them to learn more. "Your home? Did you know this messenger? Or who this Kolyan Indirovich is?"
She then looks at the others. "It is an intriguing offer though. Do we take this Burgomeister up on his offer?" She then looks to Viktor again. "And are your people the Vistani that we should accompany?"
The old warrior knows nothing of the local histories, nor does he recognize the seal. He reads the desperate plea, and among the small errors, discerns a need of aid. "Tis no matter. I shalt go. Aid is requested, and as a servant devoted to His Light, I shall provide it as I may."
He turns to Viktor with a soft cadence. "I shall accompany thee. My regards." With that, he downs the rest of his water, provided beforehand, and waits idle by the entryway.
Vawake waits patiently for the others to peruse the letter until he then reads it himself. His dark eyes scan the page and a frown forms in his brow. He abhors the darkness and its vile curses. He pushes the letter away. He needs to read no more to make up his mind.
Lorelei glances carefully at the seal. It reminds me of the crest the Von Zarovich family, but that can't be right. The heir to the title disappeared during a war, they say that the mists took him. Folklore, but here we have his crest and the gold powder on the seal shows that he has money to throw around.
Viktor stands uneasy, as though some bad taste was in his mouth.
'Our home, the land of Barovia is protected by the mist. Only the Vistani can travel back and forth through it. You'd be safe enough in one of the caravans. If Stanimir agrees we could take you as far as the village of the Burgomeister.
My people know the Burgomeister very well, we trade with the village, some of Simons ale barrels are stacked high in the freight wagon, they are for the inn. The wine barrels are for the Castle.
Yes we know Arrigal. He travels between the camps wherever his skills are needed, he'll be at the camp here tonight, as he says ,the woods are dangerous at night.
We also know Ireena, a brave warrior. If something ill has weakened her we must help. Will you at least come and talk to Stanimir?
After sharing what she knows about the seal, the young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair ponders over the message from beyond the fog. Her mentor would have wanted her to go there and help, and perhaps if she did she would also be on the path to reunite with him. "I will come too." She says with all the resoluteness she can muster as she stands up by the table, checking on her gear but otherwise ready to leave for the Vistani camp.
Ill.irth was fascinated by the Vistani and eager to meet more.of them. Whatever the party decided to do, he would like to hear their stories and possibly trade with them.
"Lead on good sir! For the moment, at the very least, you have our ears."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Annaletta picks up the basket the clothes were brought in, and tosses back the ale with a lick of the lips.
Simon stood in front of her, arms crossed, thank you for your generosity tonight many of the women had nothing and you were all very kind. Be welcomed here whenever you trade this way again. Here take this bottle of ice spirits it's almost as potent as dwarf spirits, we make it each winter. Enjoy!
Thank you she murmured and tucked it away in the basket. Meet us at the camp, there will be dancing tonight she says to the party. Then turns for the door.
Viktor, seeing her ready to leave drinks up, and says See you at the camp? Join us, it is only a short walk.
Illmirth says, "Dancing, you say? Well, why didn't you just start with that!" He was eager to learn more of the nomadic Vistani and their homeland, but the letter had his curiosity peaked as well. He takes a brief moment to clean up and looks to the rest of the group. "Let us celebrate tonights victory and learn more of tomorrows opportunities," he says with a smile before following Viktor to the camp.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair is relieved to see the door to the inn open, feeling a smile tug at her lips as she watches the elderly woman with the frying pan, joining the women to take care of the children to herd them to safety and comfort after their harrowing experiences. Only when she felt they were properly cared for in every sense she would return to the others to share in a toast over the night's victory over evil, silently praying to her god and thanking him for saving the children from their cruel fate. Her mentor would be satisfied with her this night, that much she knew, but her concern over where he was now was ever present with her.
Vaelar
Vaelar shook his head to Ranald.
"I am unscathed."
As he says this, the horrid darkness tracing his veins fades and his features lose their deathly, gaunt appearance. He looks once more like the stern, pale man that had walked into the inn earlier that night.
"Where did it come from?" he asks, looking down with disdain at the headless body of the loup garou.
DM
Ranald to Vaelar
Most of them are travellers set upon by dark powers in the Shadowfell not far from here. I'd feel sorry for them if I wasn't aware of their handiwork. Whole villages turned, children changed or killed. That is why we came here, the evil was spreading. Now it's done. Come away from there, we'll burn the bodies in the morning. Let's get a drink.
Vaelar
"The Shadowfell? Nearby?" Vaelar asks with obvious surprise.
He turns away from the dead lycanthrope and heads back toward the inn. His gait is careful and measured, seemingly at home in the dark, misty night.
DM
Ranald
Aye lad, the outskirts of the Shadowfell surround us, be careful not to wander into the mist or it will take you with it when the sun rises. Now lets go and find out how good Simons best ale is.
DM
The inn was heaving, all of the villagers seem to be there, all with cast off clothing, the cursed now normal again and ashamed at being naked. The children were all wearing cut down linen shirts, and were currently being fed by the woman with her frying pan I'll put them all to bed once they've eaten and stay with them so they'll have no fear of the dark.
Viktor arrived with a large clothes basket and the women passed it around skirts in bright colours, and embroidery shirts, not to mention the petticoats, and vests. These are the womens spare clothes they want you to have them, then he thrusts the basket into their hands, to have it snatched away with a roar of delight.
Aisha put flagons of ale into everyones hands, this was a celebration of Life.
The party found the same table vacant and headed to it.
The Harpers took up station on the barstools toasting the curse being lifted so easily.
When the people were clothed and wounds had been treated Illmirth, surveyed the scene with pride. A group of strangers, by fate or good fortune, had found themselves in position to lend their collective talents to the defense of Daggerford. A tale worthy of telling to be sure.
When the grim work of war was done, it was time to celebrate. If Illmirth was good in a fight, he was great at a party. He exchanged hearty handshakes and hugs with the rejoicing townsfolk. He toasted and cheered for the defenders of the town and the fortitude of the townsfolk in the face of such accursed evil. When the initial excitement of the moment settled to a dull roar, Illmirth recounted the tale of battle. He liberally sprinkles in minor illusion spells to set the mood or add dramatic effects.
He recounts the initial assault, a howl echoing throughout the room. "The heroics of the Harper's good works are told in song and verse up and down the sword coast! Vicktor's dazzling footwork and lightening fast strikes are also well-known to the fine folk of Daggerford!" He pauses for a moment, affording them their due recognition. His own contribution a long, enthusiastic whistle fueled by subtle magic. "Now hear of a new group of heroes, a group of strangers, by fate or fortune, convening on your fair town under the glow of a full moon. With whirling blades, Vaelar met the initial attack. Crisaryn added her magic to the fray, scorching foul fur with arcane fire! Tonight, when you hold your newly returned loved ones offer your gratitude to Lorelei, whose divine power freed them from the cruel grip of lycanthropy." he paused briefly for the thunderous applause and outpouring of adoration, as she was surely due. "My own might," he said jokingly while holding up his twig thin arm and making the equivalent of a bicep (if he had one) flex, "lay more in wit than weapon, so I laid low the foul beast with a joke! Then, bathed in the glowing light of Lathander, Murdock smote the vile abomination with his righteous blade. The cursed beast could not stand against the combined might of Viktor's dancing blade, the Harper's crushing blows, and our own relentless attacks!" Before returning to his fine wine, Illmirth has a final song for the evening. As he prefers too, he works the room directly, dancing, leaping, and whirling dramatically as space permits.
I can't believe the news today, Oh I can't close my eyes and make it go away. How long? How long must I sing this song? How long? How long?
Cause tonight, we will fight as one! Tonight.
Broken barriers and the children turned, bodies strewn across the moonlit street. Now we must heed the battles call. The werewolves had our back up, had our back up against the wall.
Sunday bloody Sunday, Sunday bloody Sunday, Sunday bloody Sunday, Sunday bloody Sunday.
Alright, let's go!
And the battle had begun, there's many lost, but tell me who has won? The curse was poison in their hearts, and mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart!
Sunday bloody Sunday....
When the final note fades, Illmirth bows deeply and rises, sweeping his arm out towards the defenders of Daggerford.
***OoC: perfoemance: 24***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Crisaryn Melkial
Crisaryn had slipped back inside the Inn with the others. Again, the group laid claim to the same table by the fire, and she hung her cloak nearby. "The town has certainly turned quickly to celebration," she comments as she drinks some of the ale that was provided. "Those Harpers proved quite adept, though you all did admirably as well." With another sip of her ale she adds, "I presume we will be back on the road come daylight?"
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
Suddenly, the tavern door swings open, and a hush falls over the room. Framed by the lamp-lit fog, a form strides through the doorway. His heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins shatter the silence. His brightly colored clothes are draped in loose folds about him, and his hat hangs askew, hiding his eyes in shadows. Without hesitation, he walks up to your table and stands proudly in a wide stance with folded arms.
Viktor and Annaletta nod their greeting to a fellow Vistani.
In an accented voice he says, "I have been sent to you to deliver this message. If you be creatures of honor, you will come to my Master's aid at first light. It is not advisable to travel the Svalich Woods at night!" He pulls from his tunic a sealed letter, addressed to all of you in beautiful flowing script. He drops the letter on the table. "Take the west road from here some five hours travel down through the Svalich Woods, with Vistani as company. There you will find my master in Barovia."
Amid the silent stares of the patronage, the man strides to the bar and says to the wary barkeep, "Fill the glasses, one and all. Their throats are obviously parched from the hunt" He drops a purse heavy with gold on the bar. With that, he leaves.
The babble of tavern voices resumes, although somewhat subdued. The letter is lying before you on the table. The seal is in the shape of a crest you don't recognize.
Does anyone recognise this seal?
Viktor looks stunned but says, come to the camp and find out more about our home. Let us drink and feast together. Stanimir will welcome you to our fire tonight.
Illmirth
***OoC: history check 10***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lorelei Dawnwarden
(History: 20 + Guidance: 2)
Crisaryn Melkial
The dark-haired woman watched as this Vistani messenger departed as hastily as he had arrived. She thus turns to Viktor when he offers for them to join them to learn more. "Your home? Did you know this messenger? Or who this Kolyan Indirovich is?"
She then looks at the others. "It is an intriguing offer though. Do we take this Burgomeister up on his offer?" She then looks to Viktor again. "And are your people the Vistani that we should accompany?"
(History Check: 15)
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
Murdock
The old warrior knows nothing of the local histories, nor does he recognize the seal. He reads the desperate plea, and among the small errors, discerns a need of aid. "Tis no matter. I shalt go. Aid is requested, and as a servant devoted to His Light, I shall provide it as I may."
He turns to Viktor with a soft cadence. "I shall accompany thee. My regards." With that, he downs the rest of his water, provided beforehand, and waits idle by the entryway.
Vaelar
Vawake waits patiently for the others to peruse the letter until he then reads it himself. His dark eyes scan the page and a frown forms in his brow. He abhors the darkness and its vile curses. He pushes the letter away. He needs to read no more to make up his mind.
"I will go," he says decisively.
History: 11
DM
History check results
Lorelei glances carefully at the seal. It reminds me of the crest the Von Zarovich family, but that can't be right. The heir to the title disappeared during a war, they say that the mists took him. Folklore, but here we have his crest and the gold powder on the seal shows that he has money to throw around.
Illmirth and Crisaryn can add no more.
DM
Viktor stands uneasy, as though some bad taste was in his mouth.
'Our home, the land of Barovia is protected by the mist. Only the Vistani can travel back and forth through it. You'd be safe enough in one of the caravans. If Stanimir agrees we could take you as far as the village of the Burgomeister.
My people know the Burgomeister very well, we trade with the village, some of Simons ale barrels are stacked high in the freight wagon, they are for the inn. The wine barrels are for the Castle.
Yes we know Arrigal. He travels between the camps wherever his skills are needed, he'll be at the camp here tonight, as he says ,the woods are dangerous at night.
We also know Ireena, a brave warrior. If something ill has weakened her we must help. Will you at least come and talk to Stanimir?
Lorelei Dawnwarden
After sharing what she knows about the seal, the young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair ponders over the message from beyond the fog. Her mentor would have wanted her to go there and help, and perhaps if she did she would also be on the path to reunite with him. "I will come too." She says with all the resoluteness she can muster as she stands up by the table, checking on her gear but otherwise ready to leave for the Vistani camp.
Illmirth
Ill.irth was fascinated by the Vistani and eager to meet more.of them. Whatever the party decided to do, he would like to hear their stories and possibly trade with them.
"Lead on good sir! For the moment, at the very least, you have our ears."
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
Annaletta picks up the basket the clothes were brought in, and tosses back the ale with a lick of the lips.
Simon stood in front of her, arms crossed, thank you for your generosity tonight many of the women had nothing and you were all very kind. Be welcomed here whenever you trade this way again. Here take this bottle of ice spirits it's almost as potent as dwarf spirits, we make it each winter. Enjoy!
Thank you she murmured and tucked it away in the basket. Meet us at the camp, there will be dancing tonight she says to the party. Then turns for the door.
Viktor, seeing her ready to leave drinks up, and says See you at the camp? Join us, it is only a short walk.
Illmirth
Illmirth says, "Dancing, you say? Well, why didn't you just start with that!" He was eager to learn more of the nomadic Vistani and their homeland, but the letter had his curiosity peaked as well. He takes a brief moment to clean up and looks to the rest of the group. "Let us celebrate tonights victory and learn more of tomorrows opportunities," he says with a smile before following Viktor to the camp.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond