"Well, least he's still breathin',"Cerio remarks, tossing a scrap to Ferelyon. "More'n can be said fer half this town, if things is as bad as they seem at a glance. 'N if he turned int' a critter, he can turn back int' a human. Might need some strong magic, though..." Alright, fellers, I'm keen to haul tail outta this town. Next stop, Rictavio's place, or Krezk?"
'The circus has my vote.' Sandu weighted in for no other reason that a visit to a circus sounded much more pleasant than traversing Barovia's dreary roads.
"Seems apt I guess." Dadeveth says with a shrug of her human shoulders. "The big ally we are to find here is also part of a circus." She glances to the strange companions she has found. "I guess we head to this circus and see what we can learn there." She stomps her feet, hoists her pack, and is ready to move out when the others are.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Morning - Day 7 - Old Svalich Road
Valerie and Father Lucian say their farewells as the party leaves their newly acquired property. Eager to make the most of the relative light of the morning, they set off towards Vallaki's west gate (Sunset Gate) and towards Krezk. Only one guard stands at the gate, his head heavily bandaged, he uses his halberd to prop himself upright. Those that attended the Reformation Centre would know the guard to be Murph.
A look of recognition crosses the guard's face and he manages a brief smile. "S-Sandu! D-Dormark!"he says, managing a brief smile. "G-g-glad y-you m-managed to s-s-solve those m-m-m-murders," he stammers. He winces and a look of pain crosses his face. "Y-you'd d-do w-well t-to leave V-V-Vallaki a' the m-moment, p-place 'as g-g-gone to h-hell. N-n-no s-sign of Iz-ek o-or th-the lot h-he l-left with," a note of finality enters his speech, clearly not expecting anyone to return from Izek's foray.
Leaving Murph behind you continue your trek westwards. The cobbled road is slick with morning dew and there is the smell of crispness. Mists cling to the path and trees, obscuring vision, yet the day starts brightly enough. After around half an hour's travel, you cross a bridge over a slow-moving river, which is clearly depicted on Rictavio's map. The road comes to an X intersection, with branches to the northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast. The lower half of a snapped wooden signpost thrusts upward at an angle near the eastern elbow of the intersection. The top half of the sign, featuring arms pointing in four directions, lies in the weeds nearby.
Rictavio's map instructs you to continue your journey north-westerly.
DM Rolls:
10, 4
After another hour of uneventful travel, you spot your destination. A cold mountain lake enclosed by misty woods and rocky bluffs. Thick fog creeps across the dark, still waters. The trail ends at a grass-covered causeway that stretches a hundred yards across the lake to a flat, marshy island with a stone tower on it. The tower is old and decrepit, with collapsing scaffolds clinging to one side where a large gash has split the wall. Timeworn griffon statues, their wings and flanks covered with moss, perch atop buttresses that support the walls.
Parked near the base of the tower, within sight of the entrance, is a barrel-topped wagon spattered with mud. It is clear from Rictavio's map that this is the location he wanted to meet you. Candlelight flickers from the tower's windows. The entire scene appears void of life accompanied by an unsettling silence.
"Well looks homey enough." Dadeveth says sarcasticly. She prances in place as everyone pauses to take in the view. "Do you think those lights mean we are to go into that tower or do we check at the wagon first?" She shivers slightly at the idea of going into that spooky-looking tower. "Reminds me of home a bit too much for my sanity..." She comments to herself, but loud enough others can overhear if they wish.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dallid gestures to Ferelyon to go on a walk around the tower, sniffing for anything worrisome, undead and monstrous things which may smell distinctly different from people and animals.
Putting his nose close to the ground, Ferelyon proceeds to sniff around the tower.
Nothing. No scent of undead. No scent of monstrous creatures... just the smell of CHICKEN! Ferelyon salivates at the smell and bounds up to the wagon.
Only, there was another smell of lavender and... woman?! Ferelyon lets out a low growl, standing upright and rigid, his left paw pointing to the wagon's roof. Hiding?! On roof.
A face pops over the rim of the wagon. It belongs to a woman, she has tan skin, long dark curly hair and sports a rather dashing long leather jacket. She sits up when she sees Ferelyon and begins to slow clap. "Bravo, bravo," her speech marks her as a Vistani, "he is a most alert animal, that wolf."
"Ezmerelda," she says by way of introduction, "Ezmerelda d’Avenir. Uh! I would not touch that door." Ireena, who was in the process of admiring the tower's door, looks around at the woman. "Not unless you want your little handies to be zapped," Ezmerelda says with a smirk. Ireena snaps her hands away from the door.
The door Ireena stands in front of is made of iron, with no visible handles or hinges. In the middle of the door is a large, embossed symbol — a connected series of lines with eight stick figures set around it. Carved into the lintel above the door is a word: Khazan.
((Mysterious Tower Door))
"And what, may I ask. Do you want with Mr Van Richten?" she asks, "he is not here. I 'ave long-awaited his return." Ezmerelda hops down from her hiding place with immense dexterity; all the more shocking given she sports an ornately carved wooden leg ((see below)). She strides towards the party, hand outstretched in greeting.
((Ezmerelda d'Avenir))
((Dormark & Sandu - This is your friendly DM reminder that though this is the first time you have met Ezmerelda, it is not the first time you have seen her. Post #1061. Changed her text colour as it was going to clash with Ireena's... Also briefly toyed with giving her more of an accent but that just makes things awkward!))
Valerie and Father Lucian say their farewells as the party leaves their newly acquired property. Eager to make the most of the relative light of the morning, they set off towards Vallaki's west gate (Sunset Gate) and towards Krezk. Only one guard stands at the gate, his head heavily bandaged, he uses his halberd to prop himself upright. Those that attended the Reformation Centre would know the guard to be Murph.
A look of recognition crosses the guard's face and he manages a brief smile. "S-Sandu! D-Dormark!"he says, managing a brief smile. "G-g-glad y-you m-managed to s-s-solve those m-m-m-murders," he stammers. He winces and a look of pain crosses his face. "Y-you'd d-do w-well t-to leave V-V-Vallaki a' the m-moment, p-place 'as g-g-gone to h-hell. N-n-no s-sign of Iz-ek o-or th-the lot h-he l-left with," a note of finality enters his speech, clearly not expecting anyone to return from Izek's foray.
Leaving Murph behind you continue your trek westwards. The cobbled road is slick with morning dew and there is the smell of crispness. Mists cling to the path and trees, obscuring vision, yet the day starts brightly enough. After around half an hour's travel, you cross a bridge over a slow-moving river, which is clearly depicted on Rictavio's map. The road comes to an X intersection, with branches to the northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast. The lower half of a snapped wooden signpost thrusts upward at an angle near the eastern elbow of the intersection. The top half of the sign, featuring arms pointing in four directions, lies in the weeds nearby.
Rictavio's map instructs you to continue your journey north-westerly.
DM Rolls:
4, 11
After another hour of uneventful travel, you spot your destination. A cold mountain lake enclosed by misty woods and rocky bluffs. Thick fog creeps across the dark, still waters. The trail ends at a grass-covered causeway that stretches a hundred yards across the lake to a flat, marshy island with a stone tower on it. The tower is old and decrepit, with collapsing scaffolds clinging to one side where a large gash has split the wall. Timeworn griffon statues, their wings and flanks covered with moss, perch atop buttresses that support the walls.
Parked near the base of the tower, within sight of the entrance, is a barrel-topped wagon spattered with mud. It is clear from Rictavio's map that this is the location he wanted to meet you. Candlelight flickers from the tower's windows. The entire scene appears void of life accompanied by an unsettling silence.
Sandu gave the guardsman a curt nod. 'Take care, Murphy.' He said to the stammering fellow. The man had been nothing but friendly towards him and Sandu hoped that nothing maligned would befall the poor man.
Travelling the road was as dreary as Sandu imagined, though with a map and a clear destination it went more smoothly than he anticipated. He was fully prepared for horrors and nightmares to jump out at them from every shadow but nothing happened. It was a monotonous journey but he figured that was the best kind of journey one could hope for in Barovia. After an hour or 2 of walking he had half a mind to take out whatever constitudes as lunch out of his backpack when a large tower loomed up out of the darkness. They had arrived.
"Well looks homey enough." Dadeveth says sarcasticly. She prances in place as everyone pauses to take in the view. "Do you think those lights mean we are to go into that tower or do we check at the wagon first?" She shivers slightly at the idea of going into that spooky-looking tower. "Reminds me of home a bit too much for my sanity..." She comments to herself, but loud enough others can overhear if they wish.
'Home?' Sandu arched an eyebrow at the sentiment. 'No offence but I wouldn't imagine towers and stairs are well suited for-' He stuck his tongue between his teeth as he tripped over what to say next. 'Hooves?' He decided on with a shrug, hoping he did not offend. Horses would have been his original go to but he had to get used to a centaur prancing along with the group and that he probably should not lump those in with regular horses.
His attention was however quickly drawn to the wolf and what he was pointing at. A woman had appeared, peering down at them from atop the wagon. She soon jumped to the ground before them before advancing with hand stretched out, introducing herself as Ezmerelda. It was odd: Sandu had the feeling he had seen her before but could not quite place it. Like a half-forgotten memory fading from his mind she seemed to come across. It prodded at the edge of his thoughts until seeing her up close made it click.
'You're the woman of my dreams.'Sandu blurted out.
Cerio walks along the path, keeping near the center of the group and often looking over his shoulder at the road behind them, as well as peering into the mist-shrouded woods. "Does this mist ever clear up?"
At the sight of the tower, his eyes grow bright as he surveys the property for items of value. The odd features of the tower itself, the door, and even the wagon suggest that there might be treasures of some significance. Old habits...
"'Lo,"he calls to Ezmerelda, whistling at the sight of her leg. "Van Richten, huh? How long you been waitin', exactly? Know anything 'bout the tower?"
Sandu- Ezmerelda smirks. "Well, I am used to gentlemen being a little forward,"she makes a mock-contemplative face, "but, I must admit, you catch me by surprise. Mr...?"
Cerio - Giving you a quick look-over, Ezmerelda frowns. "Is it not polite to answer my question first?" she asks, sighing. "I have been searching for Van Richten for a long time now, I have been in this cursed place,"she beckons around her, "for a number of weeks. Seeking, searching, and otherwise coming up empty-handed."
When you ask about the tower she looks at you quizically. "You mean you do not know? This is the tower of Rudolph Van Richten."she declares. "Wait, you have heard of Rudolph Van Richten, right?"
"A different meaning than what you think Ezmeralda, since coming to these lands both me and Sandu have been having visions of a sort. You happened to appear in one of them. We are not from Borvia and we were told by Rictavio to meet him here. However, that was before Vallki was attack by Stradh's minions," says Dormark.
Dormark - "Vallaki was attacked?!"you sense anger in Ezmerelda's voice. "The audacity of Strahd knows no bounds!" She shakes her head in disbelief. "I stayed there not long ago. An inn called," she pauses, "the Blue Water Inn. The locals helped with my search. Rictavio?"she looks at you blank-faced, "who is Rictavio?"
Dallid - You notice Ezmerelda's eyes briefly glisten, momentarily dropping her guard. "Van Richten is the greatest vampire hunter that has ever lived," she explains eagerly. "I had the pleasure of studying under him for a number of years." She bites at her lip, briefly lost in thought. "I got word that he had sought out Strahd in this land. I mean to find him and help him in any way I can."
Galqarin eyes the peg-legged Vistani with a curiosity concealed only by his raven mask. Vampire Hunter? Surely, the invention of children's tales. Yet he had thought the same of the deathless knight...
"Rictavio friend from Vallaki. He also friend of Martikov family."
Galqarin - Ezmerelda nods, "the Martikov's. That's the couple, said they'd keep a look out for Van Richten. Cannot say I have had the pleasure of meeting this Rictavio. He mentioned he would meet you here?" She pauses, "most curious. How old was he? Did he have long, white hair?"
You can tell from Ezmerelda's mannerisms that Van Richten clearly means more to her than she is letting on. She seems deeply concerned about the man. However, you get the sense that her feelings are platonic; perhaps viewing him as more of a brotherly or fatherly figure.
Otherwise, she appears to be telling the truth. She is currently searching for Van Richten and has had no luck so far. She is also adamant that he is the 'greatest vampire hunter that has ever lived' - there is a deep adoration and respect there, akin to the feelings an apprentice would have towards their master.
Cerio blinks. Van Richten, Van Richten. "Nope. Th' name ain't ringin' no bells. Can't say I'm much of a reader, mind. Anyways, I'm Cerio. 'N a few of us come late to th' show, though not too late to get in some licks', mind. So you'll excuse me if I"m a bit outta sorts."
Cerio allows the others to describe Rictavio, since he's had no direct experiences with the man.
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"Well, least he's still breathin'," Cerio remarks, tossing a scrap to Ferelyon. "More'n can be said fer half this town, if things is as bad as they seem at a glance. 'N if he turned int' a critter, he can turn back int' a human. Might need some strong magic, though..." Alright, fellers, I'm keen to haul tail outta this town. Next stop, Rictavio's place, or Krezk?"
"Let us see if Rictavio lives. And Izek", Galqarin opines darkly.
'The circus has my vote.' Sandu weighted in for no other reason that a visit to a circus sounded much more pleasant than traversing Barovia's dreary roads.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
"Did you say: the circus?" Dallid looks at Cerio and Dadeveth in recognition
Paladin - warforged - orange
"Seems apt I guess." Dadeveth says with a shrug of her human shoulders. "The big ally we are to find here is also part of a circus." She glances to the strange companions she has found. "I guess we head to this circus and see what we can learn there." She stomps her feet, hoists her pack, and is ready to move out when the others are.
"Sorry, I meant tower, but if it is on our way, I do agree we should look into it," says Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Morning - Day 7 - Old Svalich Road
Valerie and Father Lucian say their farewells as the party leaves their newly acquired property. Eager to make the most of the relative light of the morning, they set off towards Vallaki's west gate (Sunset Gate) and towards Krezk. Only one guard stands at the gate, his head heavily bandaged, he uses his halberd to prop himself upright. Those that attended the Reformation Centre would know the guard to be Murph.
A look of recognition crosses the guard's face and he manages a brief smile. "S-Sandu! D-Dormark!" he says, managing a brief smile. "G-g-glad y-you m-managed to s-s-solve those m-m-m-murders," he stammers. He winces and a look of pain crosses his face. "Y-you'd d-do w-well t-to leave V-V-Vallaki a' the m-moment, p-place 'as g-g-gone to h-hell. N-n-no s-sign of Iz-ek o-or th-the lot h-he l-left with," a note of finality enters his speech, clearly not expecting anyone to return from Izek's foray.
Leaving Murph behind you continue your trek westwards. The cobbled road is slick with morning dew and there is the smell of crispness. Mists cling to the path and trees, obscuring vision, yet the day starts brightly enough. After around half an hour's travel, you cross a bridge over a slow-moving river, which is clearly depicted on Rictavio's map. The road comes to an X intersection, with branches to the northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast. The lower half of a snapped wooden signpost thrusts upward at an angle near the eastern elbow of the intersection. The top half of the sign, featuring arms pointing in four directions, lies in the weeds nearby.
Rictavio's map instructs you to continue your journey north-westerly.
DM Rolls:
10, 4
After another hour of uneventful travel, you spot your destination. A cold mountain lake enclosed by misty woods and rocky bluffs. Thick fog creeps across the dark, still waters. The trail ends at a grass-covered causeway that stretches a hundred yards across the lake to a flat, marshy island with a stone tower on it. The tower is old and decrepit, with collapsing scaffolds clinging to one side where a large gash has split the wall. Timeworn griffon statues, their wings and flanks covered with moss, perch atop buttresses that support the walls.
Parked near the base of the tower, within sight of the entrance, is a barrel-topped wagon spattered with mud. It is clear from Rictavio's map that this is the location he wanted to meet you. Candlelight flickers from the tower's windows. The entire scene appears void of life accompanied by an unsettling silence.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"Well looks homey enough." Dadeveth says sarcasticly. She prances in place as everyone pauses to take in the view. "Do you think those lights mean we are to go into that tower or do we check at the wagon first?" She shivers slightly at the idea of going into that spooky-looking tower. "Reminds me of home a bit too much for my sanity..." She comments to herself, but loud enough others can overhear if they wish.
Dallid gestures to Ferelyon to go on a walk around the tower, sniffing for anything worrisome, undead and monstrous things which may smell distinctly different from people and animals.
Perception 7
Paladin - warforged - orange
Ferelyon's Perception check:
Putting his nose close to the ground, Ferelyon proceeds to sniff around the tower.
Nothing. No scent of undead. No scent of monstrous creatures... just the smell of CHICKEN! Ferelyon salivates at the smell and bounds up to the wagon.
Only, there was another smell of lavender and... woman?! Ferelyon lets out a low growl, standing upright and rigid, his left paw pointing to the wagon's roof. Hiding?! On roof.
A face pops over the rim of the wagon. It belongs to a woman, she has tan skin, long dark curly hair and sports a rather dashing long leather jacket. She sits up when she sees Ferelyon and begins to slow clap. "Bravo, bravo," her speech marks her as a Vistani, "he is a most alert animal, that wolf."
"Ezmerelda," she says by way of introduction, "Ezmerelda d’Avenir. Uh! I would not touch that door." Ireena, who was in the process of admiring the tower's door, looks around at the woman. "Not unless you want your little handies to be zapped," Ezmerelda says with a smirk. Ireena snaps her hands away from the door.
The door Ireena stands in front of is made of iron, with no visible handles or hinges. In the middle of the door is a large, embossed symbol — a connected series of lines with eight stick figures set around it. Carved into the lintel above the door is a word: Khazan.
"And what, may I ask. Do you want with Mr Van Richten?" she asks, "he is not here. I 'ave long-awaited his return." Ezmerelda hops down from her hiding place with immense dexterity; all the more shocking given she sports an ornately carved wooden leg ((see below)). She strides towards the party, hand outstretched in greeting.
((Dormark & Sandu - This is your friendly DM reminder that though this is the first time you have met Ezmerelda, it is not the first time you have seen her. Post #1061. Changed her text colour as it was going to clash with Ireena's... Also briefly toyed with giving her more of an accent but that just makes things awkward!))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Sandu gave the guardsman a curt nod. 'Take care, Murphy.' He said to the stammering fellow. The man had been nothing but friendly towards him and Sandu hoped that nothing maligned would befall the poor man.
Travelling the road was as dreary as Sandu imagined, though with a map and a clear destination it went more smoothly than he anticipated. He was fully prepared for horrors and nightmares to jump out at them from every shadow but nothing happened. It was a monotonous journey but he figured that was the best kind of journey one could hope for in Barovia. After an hour or 2 of walking he had half a mind to take out whatever constitudes as lunch out of his backpack when a large tower loomed up out of the darkness. They had arrived.
'Home?' Sandu arched an eyebrow at the sentiment. 'No offence but I wouldn't imagine towers and stairs are well suited for-' He stuck his tongue between his teeth as he tripped over what to say next. 'Hooves?' He decided on with a shrug, hoping he did not offend. Horses would have been his original go to but he had to get used to a centaur prancing along with the group and that he probably should not lump those in with regular horses.
His attention was however quickly drawn to the wolf and what he was pointing at. A woman had appeared, peering down at them from atop the wagon. She soon jumped to the ground before them before advancing with hand stretched out, introducing herself as Ezmerelda. It was odd: Sandu had the feeling he had seen her before but could not quite place it. Like a half-forgotten memory fading from his mind she seemed to come across. It prodded at the edge of his thoughts until seeing her up close made it click.
'You're the woman of my dreams.' Sandu blurted out.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Cerio walks along the path, keeping near the center of the group and often looking over his shoulder at the road behind them, as well as peering into the mist-shrouded woods. "Does this mist ever clear up?"
At the sight of the tower, his eyes grow bright as he surveys the property for items of value. The odd features of the tower itself, the door, and even the wagon suggest that there might be treasures of some significance. Old habits...
"'Lo," he calls to Ezmerelda, whistling at the sight of her leg. "Van Richten, huh? How long you been waitin', exactly? Know anything 'bout the tower?"
Sandu - Ezmerelda smirks. "Well, I am used to gentlemen being a little forward," she makes a mock-contemplative face, "but, I must admit, you catch me by surprise. Mr...?"
Cerio - Giving you a quick look-over, Ezmerelda frowns. "Is it not polite to answer my question first?" she asks, sighing. "I have been searching for Van Richten for a long time now, I have been in this cursed place," she beckons around her, "for a number of weeks. Seeking, searching, and otherwise coming up empty-handed."
When you ask about the tower she looks at you quizically. "You mean you do not know? This is the tower of Rudolph Van Richten." she declares. "Wait, you have heard of Rudolph Van Richten, right?"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"A different meaning than what you think Ezmeralda, since coming to these lands both me and Sandu have been having visions of a sort. You happened to appear in one of them. We are not from Borvia and we were told by Rictavio to meet him here. However, that was before Vallki was attack by Stradh's minions," says Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dallid looks back and forth between those talking before asking Ezmerelda: "What is it you want with Van Richten?"
Paladin - warforged - orange
Dormark - "Vallaki was attacked?!" you sense anger in Ezmerelda's voice. "The audacity of Strahd knows no bounds!" She shakes her head in disbelief. "I stayed there not long ago. An inn called," she pauses, "the Blue Water Inn. The locals helped with my search. Rictavio?" she looks at you blank-faced, "who is Rictavio?"
Dallid - You notice Ezmerelda's eyes briefly glisten, momentarily dropping her guard. "Van Richten is the greatest vampire hunter that has ever lived," she explains eagerly. "I had the pleasure of studying under him for a number of years." She bites at her lip, briefly lost in thought. "I got word that he had sought out Strahd in this land. I mean to find him and help him in any way I can."
Dallid - Insight check, please.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Galqarin eyes the peg-legged Vistani with a curiosity concealed only by his raven mask. Vampire Hunter? Surely, the invention of children's tales. Yet he had thought the same of the deathless knight...
"Rictavio friend from Vallaki. He also friend of Martikov family."
Dallid's insight check 13
Paladin - warforged - orange
Galqarin - Ezmerelda nods, "the Martikov's. That's the couple, said they'd keep a look out for Van Richten. Cannot say I have had the pleasure of meeting this Rictavio. He mentioned he would meet you here?" She pauses, "most curious. How old was he? Did he have long, white hair?"
Dallid's Insight check:
You can tell from Ezmerelda's mannerisms that Van Richten clearly means more to her than she is letting on. She seems deeply concerned about the man. However, you get the sense that her feelings are platonic; perhaps viewing him as more of a brotherly or fatherly figure.
Otherwise, she appears to be telling the truth. She is currently searching for Van Richten and has had no luck so far. She is also adamant that he is the 'greatest vampire hunter that has ever lived' - there is a deep adoration and respect there, akin to the feelings an apprentice would have towards their master.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Cerio blinks. Van Richten, Van Richten. "Nope. Th' name ain't ringin' no bells. Can't say I'm much of a reader, mind. Anyways, I'm Cerio. 'N a few of us come late to th' show, though not too late to get in some licks', mind. So you'll excuse me if I"m a bit outta sorts."
Cerio allows the others to describe Rictavio, since he's had no direct experiences with the man.