Elya turns to Anborn, "We won't be able to see the Baron until tomorrow, surely we can take some time to help this man out? It should only take a few hours, and I'm sure we can leave a message for our allies should we not be here when they arrive."

"I'm not going to stop you from doing it, but for just one day, I'd like to not have to run errands for every Tom, Dick, and Harry in Barovia."

"You make it sound like you've been doing that your whole life, but I haven't seen you run any errands."

"We had to go clear a house of ghosts and we had to haul a kid around because of a shitty parent. As far as I'm concerned, those are errands and I'd rather not do anything that I don't need to do."

Religion: 3.

Elya frowns at Anborn with disappointment, "Of course. What do you even care about, anyway? I've never seen you show more than an ounce of concern towards anyone in need."

"This is a church of the Morninglord. Surely you've heard of the Morninglord? 
the Morninglord?
the Morninglord?
the Morninglord...

 

Orilo gets a real far off look as memories flood to the surface. Some buried for decades. Others for only months. The more, whether he admits to it or not, playback in every dream, and every nightmare of every passing day....

"Look at'em! All bundled up nice and warm little a little lowlander. You hear that, Wittle Ori! Want us to wead you down da scary, big mountain?" A goliath barely three seasons old, and hardly as tall as the other two nearby mocked. Hands to small to even pick up a proper dagger made for goliath's clench. With a feral growl, their owner rips free of the constraints of a coat made of dire goat fur and charges the younger boy.
The sun had been at his side that day. They blamed him for bringing his 'grandpa' into the fight. Ori never lived it down...

Ten years later...

There was so much blood when it was all over, making it impossible to tell where it began and the tears ended. In a much larger hand, a stone covered in blood and bone. Beneath him, the last of his brothers struggled to breathe. But Orilo couldn't hear them past his owned choked sobs and the screams of adulation of the crowd, and the call of a name. His new moniker.
"Stonethroat… Stonethroat...Stonethroat!" They cheered. While all the goliath could do hoarsely as he cupped a hand about the face of the fallen, now still and far too cold to the touch. "I did what you wanted... I begged you, Father... I begged..." He said, voice hoarse.

Another Three decades later...

"There was nothing more you could've done, Ori." The faint feeling of small hands at his back, trying in what they both knew to be in a vain attempt at comfort. "The poison..." Even without looking away from the body, no, from the pained smile on a young woman's face scarred by blackened veins, he knew the one that touched him cried for him -- for both of them. "They did everything they could... said she died a hero protecting the light upon this world... Now she's with the Morninglord now." He could feel her eyes upon him now, but dared not turn to look at the priestess. "Do-..." He cuts off the half-elf with a "Two...." Hollow and faded blue eyes turn to bright and shocked ones, holds them for a moment, and then their owner walks away. "That's Two..." Orilo says, managing to sound more hollow then the first time. 

Other events played before the giant. The taking of a dead man's cloak, and slipping into the ranks of holy men of the sun. An innocent promise from a girl too young to know the truth of the world. Of books burning. And so many others...

Back to the present...

The corner of Orilo's eyes twitches for a few moments. "I'm familiar with this... Morninglord." He intones dispassionately. "And if you do not mind, I will have a talk with Milivoj now. But. Do not jump to further conclusion." He looks to Song. "Talk to the other one. Make sure this isn't some "bad" attempt at young ones making fools of themselves over a little spat." 

As Anborn drank, he began to think about the rest of his party. Song, who as his name implied always had a song ready, being paired up with gloomy Orilo and childish Corrin being paired up with Winter, who was every bit the tsundere ice queen that her name suggested. Not one odd couple, but two. You couldn't write a better comedy than this if you tried. And somehow, he kept finding himself thinking about Winter. Maybe I didn't notice it before when she was being a total ice queen, but she's pretty damn hot. Not like she'd be interested, though. And he began to be thankful that he was sitting down at a table.

And as if on cue, said ice queen had walked into the inn with Corrin (hopefully) in tow, gripping an ugly looking doll in her hands with a very rare smile on her face. Winter automatically spots Elya and Anborn and heads in their direction, placing down the doll first before grabbing herself a seat to sit across the cleric.

”I hope you both had more luck gathering up some information,” She starts, her smile falling. “We didn’t find too much, but I do owe Corrin a drink.” She gives the halfling a knowing look. “Want anything particular?”

"I can't say that we did. The carnival was empty, save for a tiger in armor, but good luck getting anything out of that. I came back here and asked about that restaurant we saw an ad for in the Death House, just for shits and giggles and got nothing out of that. It appears that the gods did not create me to be an investigator. We did get a job offer though. The owner needs someone to go to the winery a few hours from here and figure out why he's not getting his shipment. I turned it down, because we're only going to be here for a night and I think we can all cover room and board." He stops when he sees the doll Winter's carrying and how it made her smile. "Even if you couldn't get a lead, it looks like you found a friend. What's its' name?

Corrin beams as he nods. “An ale would be great, though, the pleasure was all mine. Felt like old times. What fun we’ve had today!” The halfling then pulls the toy he’d bought out and looks for a random child to give it to. 

Perception: 15

(Oreo talking to Milivoj here)

Winter takes a moment to order Corrin an ale, sliding the pint over to the halfling. "Old times, hm?" The rogue says, mostly thinking aloud more than asking Corrin to elaborate, the truth would come out eventually, she thinks. While Anborn speaks, Winter shiftlessly starts to switch out the dolls head, settling on the head with it's eyes and mouth stitched shut. "What makes you think we're only going to be here for a night?" She turns the doll to him to show the dolls face. "I see a lot to do here, unless you're so very eager to meet with you-know-who." She shrugs, and spins the doll back to face to her, her slender fingers running across the dolls mouth. "I haven't thought of a name for them yet, would you like to help me?" Her eyes narrow, looking around the tavern for a second before opening her mouth again.

"... On the way to the church? Orilio and Song aren't here yet perhaps they need our assistance."

"I only figured that we were here to go to the festival and speak to the burgomaster. The nobleman isn't here, so it seems like we should go look for him somewhere else." Anborn rests his head in his hands and thinks for a second when Winter asks him for help naming the doll. "I don't know, Molly seems like a decent enough name for a doll. But it's not like I had too many of them growing up." He drains his glass. "Sure, we can go help them at the church. Elya seems to be convinced that I don't help others enough."

"I would think that having a doll might teach you a bit of responsibility, since you seem to have no sense of it. I suppose we could go help Orilo and Song at the church, but your idea of 'help' won't be much use there."

She'll begin heading towards the church.

As Elya walks away, the pleasant look on Anborn's face vanishes in place of a frown. "I can't tell if she's still pissed at me for the business with Father Donavich's son or for some other thing. She acts like there was some other solution that I ignored because I wanted blood. There wasn't. But go ahead and ignore someone who's been studying the power of the divine since he was 10 because you always want to hold on to hope. And between the three of us, I didn't even expect Ireena to do it. I half expected the siblings to call me a bastard for even thinking of such a thing. Well, that's enough *****ing on my end, let's go follow her."

Winter was about to open her mouth to reply to Anborn, but Elya had beaten her to the punch, the rogue closing her mouth to let the water genasi say her part before leaving off to the church. She watches her go then looks back to the cleric with an arched eyebrow, waiting for some sort of explanation at that miniature outburst. "... I'm going to assume the little mermaid has her reasons to be so sour. She'll tell it to us one way or another, but, here, to teach you some responsibility," She quips as she slides the doll over to Anborn. "Take care of Molly for me."

The shifter stands and makes her way out of the tavern to catch up to Elya.

"As you wish, my Queen." He quips back as he slides Molly into one of the pockets in the inner layer of his coat and then buttons it back up. "I haven't the foggiest idea why she'd want a child's doll, but it's not really my problem, isn't it? Come on Corrin, let's go after them." And without waiting, Anborn leaves the tavern and tries to catch up with the women.

Corrin quickly downs his ale, chasing after the war cleric, his head buzzing from the adrenaline high of the recent theft and the quickly drank ale. “Of corse, let us go.”

OREO AND SONG
A SUDDEN VISITOR

It all happens so fast. You turn to leave. Any light source in the church is snuffed out. A horrible cold chill is felt everywhere. The sudden sound of screams in the church startle you - something is happening. The doors and windows slam shut. Father stands and cries "Oh no!! He is HERE!! He is COMING!!"

A massive swarm of bats enter the Church. All you can hear is the flutter of what appears to be hundreds of them. It's dark and cold. A tall handsome form appears from the bats, a pale looking man with jet back hair wearing a noble suit.

Strahd.

His very presence is like standing next to a great evil. With a mighty lightning quick swipe of his clawed hand, he murders Father Petrovich with a vicious slash to his neck. He takes a moment and slowly turn his head and glare at Oreo, and you feel like you are staring back into the heart of evil. In a moment, his form explodes into a massive bat swarm and he is gone. With a mighty wind, the doors blow open again, but everything is still very cold and dark.