MistBusters - A Curse of Strahd PbP

"George vol-vul-vu--George no know word." 

Quote from Finny>>

"Is there a fighting ring?"

Urwin shakes his head, “No, I’m afraid the closest thing to fun you’ll get in the village is either the festivals or my tavern, and one is a lot more fun than the other. Aside from that you could throw rocks at those accused of ‘malicious unhappiness’... if that’s your sort of thing. Naturally, I wouldn’t tell you to go near them if you had any intentions of freeing them. Obviously they committed a crime, and I couldn’t possibly tell you that the locks on the stocks they’re held in are growing old with time. No, no, that would be a crime against the Baron.” Urwin says as he enjoys a piece of bread. “So, anyway, the festival of the Blazing Sun is coming up. Attendance is mandatory by the way, just thought I’d let you know since your new here.” Urwin glances back to a woman behind the counter who’s looking a tad irritated and motions a finger for him to come back, “Ah, looks like my lovely wife,” He puts emphasis on that part so she can just hear it, “needs me back behind the counter. Please, take care, my friends.” As Urwin gets up to leave, he stops for a moment and turns around, “Actually, now that I think about it, a traveling carnival just arrived a few days ago. The ringleader is actually staying here... what was his name. Ricardo... Rictavian... Rictavio! That’s it. Yes, he’s staying here. Perhaps you might talk to him about fun?” Before he quickly arrives back behind the counter with a smile to his wife.

((If George had a brain, I'd have pounced on "malicious unhappiness".  I just love oppressive utopias.)) 

((Then this’ll be great for you haha!))

Viorela, who had been lost in thought for a moment at the whisper of Strahd's name, suddenly jumped to her senses when Urwin mentioned Rictavio.

"Oh!" Viorela approached the counter. "Rictavio! He is my employer... I am one of his uh, animal tamers." She smiles as she lifts her whip for the couple to see. "Would it be alright to tell me the room where he stays? Or could you let him know that Viorela Belododia is here to meet with him...?"

It’s as you say that that you hear a voice from over the bannister, “Why my dear Viorela! Of course I already know that you’re here! For I am Rictavio! The greatest ringmaster to ever grace the lands of Barovia!” You all lift your eyes to the second floor to see an incredibly flamboyant half-elf gentleman. He has a long curly Q mustache and a winning smile. He wears highly colorful clothing and a large feathered hat while holding a long wooden cane that he spins with each step down the stairs. As he arrives at your table, he bows deeply, “How lovely to see you again my dear, it seems that you have made some friends.”

George introduce George.  Again.  "Me George." 

A flush creeps over Viorela's face as the master comes into view. She cannot help but stand and bow in return. "Master Rict-Rictavio!" Viorela seems to stumble on her words as she speaks. "I am delighted to see you again."

Rictavio mentions those with her and she nods. "These brave people... they rescued me." She looked aside and down to the ground, disappointment plain on her face. "I had... gotten captured by those damn hags..."

Rictavio nods to George, “A pleasure, my dear boy. Good to see Viorela is keeping such... mighty company.” Turning back to Viorela, Rictavio’s face grows dour, “I see. Such a terrible thing to happen. You have my deepest apologies, Viorela. I should’ve never let you travel on your own. I should’ve at least sent Ms. Tipsy along with you. In any case, it shan’t happen again.” He extends a hand, “However, may I see you in private for a moment?”

Viorela very visibly is flustered as she takes his hand. "O-Oh, of course!"

(Viorela has... DEEP RESPECT... for this guy. *AUDIBLE WINK*)

“Come, my dear girl.” Rictavio leads you up to the bannister, in view of the others, but far away enough that they can’t hear you easily. As he leads you to the corner, his bravado drops to a more serious tone, completely different from the carni facade, “Viorela, I apologize for my bluntness, but I must ask you want you learned from the hags. How did you escape? Were any left alive? Did they have any connection to... the devil?” At that last question, he nonchalantly looks around.

Grim turns to the rest of the team, "Why was Ru's face so red?" He asks. "Nevermind, I'll go find out" he says soon after and slinks off to listen.

As Grim sneaks over to the edge of the bannister, a floorboard creeks and Rictavio goes silent. Viorela notices that he thumbs to his room. Grim does hear just a hint of his serious voice. There may be more to him than it seems...

Viorela snaps out of her blush somewhat to issue a short report. "I escaped with their aid. I am not quite sure why they were at the mill, but... they seem to be to be vehemently against evil, despite how some of them appear." Viorela wrung her hands nervously as she spoke, it was her nerves as she begun to recollect the things she saw at the mill with the hags. "One of them escaped... I confirmed they were... making treats of children," her voice hitched in her throat, but she swallowed and tried to appear stoic. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the ground between them, hoping to keep her composure. "I recall their names Bella, Offalia, and Morgatha, but for the life of me - in the moment - in my rush to leave... I do not recall who escaped." She sighed. "They are connected to him, master. I believe they have something called a Hag's Eye? Someone close to him has it." She looked Rictavio in the eye. "Do you know what that could be?"

Rictavio locks the door, “I am aware of Hag’s Eyes. They are magical items that are created by Hag covens from natural eyes. The coven can see and hear through the eye at any time. However, if you managed to kill any of them, that would break the coven. Such an act would’ve destroyed the eye.” The man removes his flamboyant hat and takes a seat. As the hat is removed, the half-elf visage drops, revealing the aging human beneath it. He runs a hand through graying hair and adjusts his spectacles. “You did well, dear. These adventurers, do you believe you can trust them?”

Viorela looked to her master. Though he was an aging man, she found him quite handsome. She thought for a moment with her arms crossed. 

"I... I think I can. They went after those hags faster than wolves on a weakened doe." Viorela thought aloud. "What would you have me do next? I have a feeling you'd like me to enlist the aid of these individuals... The... Mistbusters, they called themselves." She chuckled.

Rictavio kind of chews his lip and clicks his tongue as he thinks before looking toward Viorela and smiling, “You’re a big girl, Viorela. I trust your discernment and instinct. If you believe that they are worth your time, then I believe you should go with them. The plans that I have are going to require I disappear for a little while. The devil has begun to take notice.” With that, Rictavio stands and places on his hat once again. Grim hears the clacking footsteps toward the door and sprints out of there before he arrives.

Viorela does everything in her power to hold in her appreciation of Rictavio and simply nods at his instructions. As he walks by her, she takes a deep breath and says, "Whatever you think is best... I hope we can stay in contact, master."

Rictavio pats Viorela on her shoulder, “We shall dear, we shall.” Before he walks to the MistBuster’s table, returning to his grandiose personality, “My dear friends, I thank you for your kindness in rescuing my young protege. Without you, I fear she may have fallen prey to those vile creatures of the night! Please, allow me to repay you. I shall pay for your stay here. And, I shall be forever in your debt. I will hear of no protest! This is the least I can do.” He says with a humble and formal bow. Grim, you know that this grandiose personality isn’t his true face. You do not know he concealing a human form, but you know he is certainly not just a carni. However, he is clearly not in line with Strahd.

"I'm-" Samudra tries to introduce herself,  but accidentally thinks of the child meat pies she ate, and gags. The green on her frill seems to take on a more sickly color. She sits down at a table in a dark corner and shakes like she's autistic.