Yes, little gnome. Come closer. You realize he is a bit older than you expected. You can see a picture of Father Donavich in Roll20, if you're interested.
He wraps his hands around your head, one in front and one in back, and mumbles a few words. His hands are sweaty, and you realize, now that you are close, that this is a person who engages in no personal hygiene. Perhaps ever. You wonder if you have caught a troubled soul in a lucid moment.
Come along, then, he says, as he leads you back to the hallway.
He leads you to the room that was, in the church's entrance hall, on your far right when you entered the main door. My office. You may look at my books and papers. An old desk and chair stand against the south wall, a wooden holy symbol mounted above them—a sunburst. A ten-foot-long iron rod attached to the north wall stands bare, suggesting a tapestry once hung there. Against the far wall stands a wooden cabinet with four tall doors.
An empty wooden poor box rests on the seat of the chair. The desk drawers contain a few sheets of blank parchment, along with a couple of quill pens and dried-up jars of ink.
For its size, the wooden cabinet contains very little in the way of books. Inside are a tinderbox, a few wooden boxes full of candles, and two well-used books: Hymns to the Dawn, a volume of chants to the Morninglord, and The Blade of Truth: The Uses of Logic in the War Against Diabolist Heresies, as Fought by the Ulmist Inquisition, a strange book that mixes logic exercises with lurid descriptions of fiend-worshiping cults. There is also a box inside the cabinet with old papers stuffed in it, some of which are legible, and some are not. It's mostly notes.
Give me an investigation check, Barnaby. A very important investigation check. I will tell you what your DC is: It is 8. Your DC is only 8. Don't mess it up.
As you dig through the box of papers, you notice about half of them are notes about local affairs in the same handwriting. Likely the priest's himself. Your sense is that all of this has been untouched for some time, and that Father Donavich has likely not set pen to paper in a long time.
As you dig down into older papers, you see some of them are pamphlets or correspondence in the handwriting of others. You unfold one darkened, stained packet, and realize that part of it is actually in arcane lettering. A scroll of Protection From Evil! (And Good!)
You guys can settle in for a long rest here, if you want. You can also speak with the NPCs who are present. If you want to try to get a long rest, despite the shrieking and thumping from below, just say so. And also (1) let me know what your watch rotation is, if you have one, and (2) roll a CON save with advantage.
Let's pause here at first watch, to give Barnaby an opportunity to figure out what he's going to do with the scroll, and to see if Puddin wants to contribute. Also, I'd appreciate it if people taking watch always rolled Perception checks. It just makes it easier for me.
I do not want Barovia to be under a curse forever. Indeed, Strahd himself is cursed, and I would wish him to be free from the curse as well.
As for your friends, they were upset, and eager to leave. I did not wish them to stay, so I told them that you would be protected. I knew you would be awake soon; it was simply the will of an old lady that you would be able to rest here for a day or two.
She is impenetrable. Your attempt to gain insight is fruitless.
She cackles and cackles. Oh my goodness, this is hilarious to her. She thinks this is the funniest thing she's heard in a hundred years.
After about three solid minutes of pure cackle, she looks at you with stone-cold serious eyes.
Do not underestimate me, little one. Your brother, the hero. Am I such a fool that you would tell me these lies? But it does not matter. I do not summon the travelers who come here, nor do I name them. Off you go, now, go catch up to your friends. If you hurry you will be there by nightfall, and you do not want to be out and about after that.
She cackles and cackles. Oh my goodness, this is hilarious to her. She thinks this is the funniest thing she's heard in a hundred years.
After about three solid minutes of pure cackle, she looks at you with stone-cold serious eyes.
Do not underestimate me, little one. Your brother, the hero. Am I such a fool that you would tell me these lies? But it does not matter. I do not summon the travelers who come here, nor do I name them. Off you go, now, go catch up to your friends. If you hurry you will be there by nightfall, and you do not want to be out and about after that.
Fope takes his leave and prepares for the journey. Alone, he moves quickly down the path and onto the road.
He arrives at the crossroad, and sees a figure hanging from the gallows. Upon closer inspection, he sees his own face upon the hanged man, but a moment later, the noose is empty.
Fope jogs on. In the afternoon, he arrives in Barovia. He asks around, encountering mostly hostile stares, but eventually tracks the party north, out of town, toward the church. As dusk settles in, he pounds on the door and announces himself. Just as the party inside is settling in for a long rest, Ismark - satisfied that Fope is not a creature of the dark - allows Fope entry. The party is reunited!
Barnaby figures that the old priest would be happy to see this scroll used in the fight against the evils of this land and tucks it onto his bag.
Second watch perception13
Con: 16
Barnaby, late at night - you would estimate at roughly midnight - you see a curious green glow coming through the narrow windows in the back of the chapel. Upon closer examination, an eerie green light suffuses the graveyard. From this light emerges a ghostly procession. Wavering images of doughty women toting greatswords, woodwise men with slender bows, dwarves with glittering axes, and archaically dressed mages with beards and strange, pointed hats—all these and more march forth from the graveyard, their numbers growing by the second.
There is a dull blade that would have been used for opening sealed packets and that sort of thing. Like the other office materials, it doesn’t appear to have been used in a long time.
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Yes, little gnome. Come closer. You realize he is a bit older than you expected. You can see a picture of Father Donavich in Roll20, if you're interested.
He wraps his hands around your head, one in front and one in back, and mumbles a few words. His hands are sweaty, and you realize, now that you are close, that this is a person who engages in no personal hygiene. Perhaps ever. You wonder if you have caught a troubled soul in a lucid moment.
He heals you for 4 hp.
Come along, then, he says, as he leads you back to the hallway.
He leads you to the room that was, in the church's entrance hall, on your far right when you entered the main door. My office. You may look at my books and papers. An old desk and chair stand against the south wall, a wooden holy symbol mounted above them—a sunburst. A ten-foot-long iron rod attached to the north wall stands bare, suggesting a tapestry once hung there. Against the far wall stands a wooden cabinet with four tall doors.
An empty wooden poor box rests on the seat of the chair. The desk drawers contain a few sheets of blank parchment, along with a couple of quill pens and dried-up jars of ink.
For its size, the wooden cabinet contains very little in the way of books. Inside are a tinderbox, a few wooden boxes full of candles, and two well-used books: Hymns to the Dawn, a volume of chants to the Morninglord, and The Blade of Truth: The Uses of Logic in the War Against Diabolist Heresies, as Fought by the Ulmist Inquisition, a strange book that mixes logic exercises with lurid descriptions of fiend-worshiping cults. There is also a box inside the cabinet with old papers stuffed in it, some of which are legible, and some are not. It's mostly notes.
Give me an investigation check, Barnaby. A very important investigation check. I will tell you what your DC is: It is 8. Your DC is only 8. Don't mess it up.
Blue: Jerk.
Investigation: 11
Edit: Thank god.
As you dig through the box of papers, you notice about half of them are notes about local affairs in the same handwriting. Likely the priest's himself. Your sense is that all of this has been untouched for some time, and that Father Donavich has likely not set pen to paper in a long time.
As you dig down into older papers, you see some of them are pamphlets or correspondence in the handwriting of others. You unfold one darkened, stained packet, and realize that part of it is actually in arcane lettering. A scroll of Protection From Evil! (And Good!)
The screaming continues, off and on.
Father, I'm starving! I know we have company, let me meet them! Please don't be ashamed of me!!
There is also occasional thumping against a trap door in one of the rooms off of the entrance hall.
Donavich, for his part, is now ignoring all and on his knees in quiet prayer.
You guys can settle in for a long rest here, if you want. You can also speak with the NPCs who are present. If you want to try to get a long rest, despite the shrieking and thumping from below, just say so. And also (1) let me know what your watch rotation is, if you have one, and (2) roll a CON save with advantage.
I’ll take 1st watch
24
22. Con rolls
Sounds good.
Let's pause here at first watch, to give Barnaby an opportunity to figure out what he's going to do with the scroll, and to see if Puddin wants to contribute. Also, I'd appreciate it if people taking watch always rolled Perception checks. It just makes it easier for me.
23 perception
good place to pause
Why do you answer our questions? Why do you read the cards for us? Why did you watch over me?
Insight: 18
Persuasion toward saying what she wants: 10
I do not want Barovia to be under a curse forever. Indeed, Strahd himself is cursed, and I would wish him to be free from the curse as well.
As for your friends, they were upset, and eager to leave. I did not wish them to stay, so I told them that you would be protected. I knew you would be awake soon; it was simply the will of an old lady that you would be able to rest here for a day or two.
She is impenetrable. Your attempt to gain insight is fruitless.
My brother is the warrior of our village. He is strong and cunning. Bring him here, and he may very well work toward lifting the curse.
Persuasion toward bringing Gågor to Barovia: 3
Føpé attempts to hide his hatred for his brother, deception: 11
She cackles and cackles. Oh my goodness, this is hilarious to her. She thinks this is the funniest thing she's heard in a hundred years.
After about three solid minutes of pure cackle, she looks at you with stone-cold serious eyes.
Do not underestimate me, little one. Your brother, the hero. Am I such a fool that you would tell me these lies? But it does not matter. I do not summon the travelers who come here, nor do I name them. Off you go, now, go catch up to your friends. If you hurry you will be there by nightfall, and you do not want to be out and about after that.
Barnaby figures that the old priest would be happy to see this scroll used in the fight against the evils of this land and tucks it onto his bag.
Second watch perception13
Con: 16
If I ever got my short rest in:
Hit dice 11
Portent: 14 11
And recover one spell slot.
Fope takes his leave and prepares for the journey. Alone, he moves quickly down the path and onto the road.
He arrives at the crossroad, and sees a figure hanging from the gallows. Upon closer inspection, he sees his own face upon the hanged man, but a moment later, the noose is empty.
Fope jogs on. In the afternoon, he arrives in Barovia. He asks around, encountering mostly hostile stares, but eventually tracks the party north, out of town, toward the church. As dusk settles in, he pounds on the door and announces himself. Just as the party inside is settling in for a long rest, Ismark - satisfied that Fope is not a creature of the dark - allows Fope entry. The party is reunited!
Barnaby, late at night - you would estimate at roughly midnight - you see a curious green glow coming through the narrow windows in the back of the chapel. Upon closer examination, an eerie green light suffuses the graveyard. From this light emerges a ghostly procession. Wavering images of doughty women toting greatswords, woodwise men with slender bows, dwarves with glittering axes, and archaically dressed mages with beards and strange, pointed hats—all these and more march forth from the graveyard, their numbers growing by the second.
Puddin's CON save with advantage: 16
Now I need a CON save with advantage from Fope.
This save is to make sure you can get in a long rest despite the frequent thumping and howling from downstairs. So far, everyone has passed.
During his watch, Kif would like to look in the office to see if there is a pair of scissors
That would be during the first watch.
There is a dull blade that would have been used for opening sealed packets and that sort of thing. Like the other office materials, it doesn’t appear to have been used in a long time.