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Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair had quietly followed along to the Vistani camp, feeling both concerned over the ominous message they had recieved, and excited over taking her first steps into the unknown of an adventure with the company of strangers. Her curious eyes studies the others, discreetly trying to gauge their competence should there be more fighting ahead. Only the somewhat boisterous drow had really spoken much yet and it remained to be seen if it was mostly wind.
As they group reaches the Vistani camp she feels a bit awkward with the dancing and carousing going on there. There had admittedly not been much place for such frivolities in her life, not that she felt that she had missed that, but she knew she didn't know the first thing about dancing, blushing faintly and looking away as the Vistani looked at her, probably to them quite exotic appearance. She looks about not sure what to do with herself but decides to join Victor by the fire as he returns. "I like the music, it is lovely." She says to him with a friendly smile, her blonde hair shimmering in the light of the fire, watching as the Vistani dance around it, placing her weapons on the ground beside her and carefully removing her armour for better comfort, hoping they would not be needed more this night.
Perception to notice anything interesting: 9 Insight to notice anything interesting: 27
As the evening grows dark, you see a dozen men and women gathered around a crackling bonfire. The folk are in good spirits. A few of them sing and dance around the fire while others find happiness in their flasks and wineskins. Three barrel-topped wagons are parked at odd angles. Tied to a nearby tree, grazing, are half a dozen draft horses wearing bright coats with bangles and tassels.
An elderly man appears in red robes and takes a place next to the smaller fire. He holds out his hands in a gesture of friendship that shows he doesn't hold dagger or sword. My name is Stanimir be welcome at my fire, hunters. Would you like something to eat? We have a fine venison stew and fresh bread, and there is wine for everyone. He hands you a wine skin and small pewter goblet.
Crisaryn readily follows the others to the camp. She's not very interested in the dancing, but finds a spot near the fire to listen to the music and observe.
When the man dressed in red comes out, she steps over to greet him. "I am Crisaryn. Thank you for your hospitality. I'm sure you have already been informed, but our group wishes to travel with you to Barovia. I hope that will be alright."
Lady Crisaryn, hunters of evil are always welcome amongst the People.
Viktor tells me you had a letter from the Burgomeister, he is seeking help. We can certainly take you as far as his village as we have trade goods for there. Perhaps you would come with us to the Elder Mother Eva's home afterwards. She sees the future.
As the red-robed elderly man invites them to sit by with him, the young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair too accepts and takes a seat next to Crisaryn, giving her a small friendly smile. "Thank you for your kind assistance. I am Lorelei. Seeing the future is a gift we would gladly accept Stanimir." She says to the elderly man with a warm smile. "Can you tell us anything about the place we're going to, and if it has any connection to the Von Zarovich family?" She asks as she accepts some wine with a nod and a grateful smile.
Illmirth enters the Vistani camp as eager as a little child on their Day of Life Gift. Wide eyes and a wider smile greeted anyone he comes into contact with. It takes only moments for the practiced musician to find the rhythm of their song. He moved through the camp with an easy grace, almost gliding, and stepping in time with the beat. He accepts the goblet, and does his best to focus on the old man's words, but his very soul feels pulled to join the merriment.
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“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Stanimir fills his mouth with wine, then spits into the fire. The flames turn from orange to green. As they dance and sway, a dark shape appears in the bonfire's core.
"We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten—a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads."
The dark shape in the fire takes the form of a man being knocked from his horse, a spear piercing his side.
Stanimir continues. "One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn't say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn't give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves."
Deep in the bonfire, you see the dark figure standing with sword drawn, fighting off a host of shadowy shapes.
"This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said, 'I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.'"
The figure in the dancing fire vanquishes its final foe, then disperses in a cloud of smoke and embers.
Stanimir's face becomes a somber mask. "A curse has befallen our noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain. We've traveled far and wide to find heroes such as yourselves to end our dread lord's curse and put his troubled soul to rest. Our leader, Madam Eva, knows all. Will you return to Barovia with us and speak with her?"
"So the lost Prince von Zarovich has been struck by a curse that has turned him into a tyrant in Barovia. I can only assume the request for our aid has some connection to this cursed tyrant." The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair ponders aloud. "We would need to find a way to lift this evil curse, and it sounds to me that meeting with your Madame Eve would be a good place to start this endeavour." She turns and says to the elderly man with a warm reassuring smile.
The music fades into an afterthought as the old man begins to weave his tale. Illmirth is enchanted by the plight of the prince and simply must know more. "Like Crisaryn and Lorelei, I am intrigued and very curious to hear more of your prince and the terrible curse that befell him. I for one would be most pleased to meet Madam Eva."
It appeared as if the band of coincidental heroes would be joining the Vistani caravan in the morning. Not being one to waste today worrying about tomorrow, Illmirth's attention turned to the festivities. His first order of business was to locate and purchase a fine outfit in the Vistani style, he did love their flair.
When that business was completed he stepped back and took it all in. When he knew the gist of the music he grabbed his lute and joined right in! When the tempo picked up he observed the dancing and attempted to match their style and pattern of movements. Basically, where there was merriment and music, Illmirth could be found. He would celebrate with the colorful band until the embers burned low and all tales worth telling had been told.
***OoC: Performance to seamlessly work in with the Vistani 24. ***
The Paladin sits away from the flame, listening, watching. His polished mail glitters in the flame as he works the blood from his blade. Beleaguered women, suffering princes, accursed beasts - his oath demands he aids those in need, but it feels as if the longer he is away from the trail, the further away his quarry lies. Still, he has no choice. He must help those in need.
Music flares and fades, the fire dances. The old man smiles, musing of himself. Oh what it would be to be young again and enjoy these little things. Fantastical stories, nights spent drinking, battles to be won and celebrations to be had. It all brought him memories of his time in training, his fellow initiates, and their pursuit of service. How long had it been, and how many of those smiling faces were left?
He lets out a long sigh, and leans back against the nearest wagon. Unless spoken to, Murdock will spend the rest of this peaceful moment in silence.
Vaelar is not a man for dancing and festivities, but the Vistani's tale has him enraptured. He listens intently to Stanimir as he recounts the history of his people and their cursed Prince. He has already committed himself to the aid of the Burgomeister, but Stanimir's story has him eager to end this ages-long curse in the land.
"Once the Burgomeister's plight is addressed, we will seek out Madame Eva," he agrees.
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair slowly drinks some wine while she watches the dancing and singing. The drow had joined them and seemed to have the time of his life. The old paladin had found a place in solitude and didn't seem to invite company, and neither did the pale ranger seem to be the talkative type. She wondered if she would get to know them in time, like she knew her mentor. They had talked through the days, admittedly mostly about the Morninglord and the path into the dawn but also about other things in life. "You have a pretty name Crisaryn, where are you from, and what brought you here?"She finally gathers enough courage to ask the young woman beside her in a good-natured but sincerely curious way.
Crisaryn had listened to the tale of the von Zarovich prince. "Stanimir, we would certainly be willing to talk to this Madam Eve once we have spoken with the Burgomeister. But I must ask, it seems this Kolyan Indirovich is a von Zarovich. Is he related to the prince?"
As the evening went on, she was content to avoid the dancing. She stayed near the smaller fire where she had been speaking. Keeping her silence and just watching the festivities, she was a little surprised when the blonde woman started speaking to her. "A pretty name? It's always just been a name to me." She turned towards the woman, her bright yellow eyes studying her a moment before she said more. "I am not really from anywhere. I travel. I had been on my way to Waterford, hoping to find jobs to keep coin in my pocket." She takes a small sip of her wine. "And you... Lorelei? Where are you from?"
No lady Crisaryn, the Burgomeister is just in charge of the village, he uses the seal to show it is an official letter. Ireena is his beloved adopted daughter, if she is cursed in some way he must try to lift it by any means. Just as any father would.
"Well I think it is pretty..."The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair says with a friendly smile. "...as for me, I grew up in a cloister dedicated to Lathander the Dawnfather but the last few years I too have been travelling, looking to help people in need, like the people here in Daggerford and in Barovia." She explains to Crisaryn, going silent for a moment with a concerned look before continuing. "I used to have other company on the road, a man that was both like a father and a mentor to me, but we got separated and now I am searching for him. Perhaps he too have had an invitation to Barovia." She says with a weak smile, the going silent for a while again, glancing over at Crisaryn. "I hope you don't think it is too personal to bring up, but I noticed the golden scales on the back of your neck, and you are clearly well connected to the weave, are you in fact a sorceress with golden dragon blood." She asks a bit shyly, but you can see the excitement in her eyes.
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DM
As you reach the camp you hear the sound of music and carousing.
Victor leads his warhorse over to his wagon and takes its tack off to let it graze. Then heads towards the fire.
Annaletta disappears into a red wagon taking the basket with her.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair had quietly followed along to the Vistani camp, feeling both concerned over the ominous message they had recieved, and excited over taking her first steps into the unknown of an adventure with the company of strangers. Her curious eyes studies the others, discreetly trying to gauge their competence should there be more fighting ahead. Only the somewhat boisterous drow had really spoken much yet and it remained to be seen if it was mostly wind.
As they group reaches the Vistani camp she feels a bit awkward with the dancing and carousing going on there. There had admittedly not been much place for such frivolities in her life, not that she felt that she had missed that, but she knew she didn't know the first thing about dancing, blushing faintly and looking away as the Vistani looked at her, probably to them quite exotic appearance. She looks about not sure what to do with herself but decides to join Victor by the fire as he returns. "I like the music, it is lovely." She says to him with a friendly smile, her blonde hair shimmering in the light of the fire, watching as the Vistani dance around it, placing her weapons on the ground beside her and carefully removing her armour for better comfort, hoping they would not be needed more this night.
Perception to notice anything interesting: 9
Insight to notice anything interesting: 27
DM
As the evening grows dark, you see a dozen men and women gathered around a crackling bonfire. The folk are in good spirits. A few of them sing and dance around the fire while others find happiness in their flasks and wineskins. Three barrel-topped wagons are parked at odd angles. Tied to a nearby tree, grazing, are half a dozen draft horses wearing bright coats with bangles and tassels.
An elderly man appears in red robes and takes a place next to the smaller fire. He holds out his hands in a gesture of friendship that shows he doesn't hold dagger or sword. My name is Stanimir be welcome at my fire, hunters. Would you like something to eat? We have a fine venison stew and fresh bread, and there is wine for everyone. He hands you a wine skin and small pewter goblet.
Crisaryn Melkial
Crisaryn readily follows the others to the camp. She's not very interested in the dancing, but finds a spot near the fire to listen to the music and observe.
When the man dressed in red comes out, she steps over to greet him. "I am Crisaryn. Thank you for your hospitality. I'm sure you have already been informed, but our group wishes to travel with you to Barovia. I hope that will be alright."
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
Stanimir.
Lady Crisaryn, hunters of evil are always welcome amongst the People.
Viktor tells me you had a letter from the Burgomeister, he is seeking help. We can certainly take you as far as his village as we have trade goods for there. Perhaps you would come with us to the Elder Mother Eva's home afterwards. She sees the future.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
As the red-robed elderly man invites them to sit by with him, the young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair too accepts and takes a seat next to Crisaryn, giving her a small friendly smile. "Thank you for your kind assistance. I am Lorelei. Seeing the future is a gift we would gladly accept Stanimir." She says to the elderly man with a warm smile. "Can you tell us anything about the place we're going to, and if it has any connection to the Von Zarovich family?" She asks as she accepts some wine with a nod and a grateful smile.
DM
Stanimir
Perhaps you would enjoy the tale of our Prince, he is a von Zarovich.
Illmirth
Illmirth enters the Vistani camp as eager as a little child on their Day of Life Gift. Wide eyes and a wider smile greeted anyone he comes into contact with. It takes only moments for the practiced musician to find the rhythm of their song. He moved through the camp with an easy grace, almost gliding, and stepping in time with the beat. He accepts the goblet, and does his best to focus on the old man's words, but his very soul feels pulled to join the merriment.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
Stanimir fills his mouth with wine, then spits into the fire. The flames turn from orange to green. As they dance and sway, a dark shape appears in the bonfire's core.
"We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten—a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads."
The dark shape in the fire takes the form of a man being knocked from his horse, a spear piercing his side.
Stanimir continues. "One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn't say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn't give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves."
Deep in the bonfire, you see the dark figure standing with sword drawn, fighting off a host of shadowy shapes.
"This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said, 'I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.'"
The figure in the dancing fire vanquishes its final foe, then disperses in a cloud of smoke and embers.
Stanimir's face becomes a somber mask. "A curse has befallen our noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain. We've traveled far and wide to find heroes such as yourselves to end our dread lord's curse and put his troubled soul to rest. Our leader, Madam Eva, knows all. Will you return to Barovia with us and speak with her?"
Crisaryn Melkial
"I would not mind hearing the tale of your Prince," Crisaryn replies to Stanimir. She too would accept some wine but drinks it sparingly.
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
Lorelei Dawnwarden
"So the lost Prince von Zarovich has been struck by a curse that has turned him into a tyrant in Barovia. I can only assume the request for our aid has some connection to this cursed tyrant." The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair ponders aloud. "We would need to find a way to lift this evil curse, and it sounds to me that meeting with your Madame Eve would be a good place to start this endeavour." She turns and says to the elderly man with a warm reassuring smile.
Illmirth
The music fades into an afterthought as the old man begins to weave his tale. Illmirth is enchanted by the plight of the prince and simply must know more. "Like Crisaryn and Lorelei, I am intrigued and very curious to hear more of your prince and the terrible curse that befell him. I for one would be most pleased to meet Madam Eva."
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
DM
Stanimir
Do what is necessary for the Burgomeister, then come and see Madam Eva. As Viktor has said we have trading to do in the village.
Illmirth
It appeared as if the band of coincidental heroes would be joining the Vistani caravan in the morning. Not being one to waste today worrying about tomorrow, Illmirth's attention turned to the festivities. His first order of business was to locate and purchase a fine outfit in the Vistani style, he did love their flair.
When that business was completed he stepped back and took it all in. When he knew the gist of the music he grabbed his lute and joined right in! When the tempo picked up he observed the dancing and attempted to match their style and pattern of movements. Basically, where there was merriment and music, Illmirth could be found. He would celebrate with the colorful band until the embers burned low and all tales worth telling had been told.
***OoC: Performance to seamlessly work in with the Vistani 24. ***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Murdock
The Paladin sits away from the flame, listening, watching. His polished mail glitters in the flame as he works the blood from his blade. Beleaguered women, suffering princes, accursed beasts - his oath demands he aids those in need, but it feels as if the longer he is away from the trail, the further away his quarry lies. Still, he has no choice. He must help those in need.
Music flares and fades, the fire dances. The old man smiles, musing of himself. Oh what it would be to be young again and enjoy these little things. Fantastical stories, nights spent drinking, battles to be won and celebrations to be had. It all brought him memories of his time in training, his fellow initiates, and their pursuit of service. How long had it been, and how many of those smiling faces were left?
He lets out a long sigh, and leans back against the nearest wagon. Unless spoken to, Murdock will spend the rest of this peaceful moment in silence.
Vaelar
Vaelar is not a man for dancing and festivities, but the Vistani's tale has him enraptured. He listens intently to Stanimir as he recounts the history of his people and their cursed Prince. He has already committed himself to the aid of the Burgomeister, but Stanimir's story has him eager to end this ages-long curse in the land.
"Once the Burgomeister's plight is addressed, we will seek out Madame Eva," he agrees.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair slowly drinks some wine while she watches the dancing and singing. The drow had joined them and seemed to have the time of his life. The old paladin had found a place in solitude and didn't seem to invite company, and neither did the pale ranger seem to be the talkative type. She wondered if she would get to know them in time, like she knew her mentor. They had talked through the days, admittedly mostly about the Morninglord and the path into the dawn but also about other things in life. "You have a pretty name Crisaryn, where are you from, and what brought you here?" She finally gathers enough courage to ask the young woman beside her in a good-natured but sincerely curious way.
Crisaryn Melkial
Crisaryn had listened to the tale of the von Zarovich prince. "Stanimir, we would certainly be willing to talk to this Madam Eve once we have spoken with the Burgomeister. But I must ask, it seems this Kolyan Indirovich is a von Zarovich. Is he related to the prince?"
As the evening went on, she was content to avoid the dancing. She stayed near the smaller fire where she had been speaking. Keeping her silence and just watching the festivities, she was a little surprised when the blonde woman started speaking to her. "A pretty name? It's always just been a name to me." She turned towards the woman, her bright yellow eyes studying her a moment before she said more. "I am not really from anywhere. I travel. I had been on my way to Waterford, hoping to find jobs to keep coin in my pocket." She takes a small sip of her wine. "And you... Lorelei? Where are you from?"
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
Stanimir
No lady Crisaryn, the Burgomeister is just in charge of the village, he uses the seal to show it is an official letter. Ireena is his beloved adopted daughter, if she is cursed in some way he must try to lift it by any means. Just as any father would.
Lorelei Dawnwarden
"Well I think it is pretty..." The young lathanderite with the blonde braided hair says with a friendly smile. "...as for me, I grew up in a cloister dedicated to Lathander the Dawnfather but the last few years I too have been travelling, looking to help people in need, like the people here in Daggerford and in Barovia." She explains to Crisaryn, going silent for a moment with a concerned look before continuing. "I used to have other company on the road, a man that was both like a father and a mentor to me, but we got separated and now I am searching for him. Perhaps he too have had an invitation to Barovia." She says with a weak smile, the going silent for a while again, glancing over at Crisaryn. "I hope you don't think it is too personal to bring up, but I noticed the golden scales on the back of your neck, and you are clearly well connected to the weave, are you in fact a sorceress with golden dragon blood." She asks a bit shyly, but you can see the excitement in her eyes.