(I see the universe with a nat 20 for 26 in game log)
Dormark moves past the waitress with a nod and approaches the weasley figure that is Bildrath. "The only lesser I see is a man who mocks others when they are not present. Salutations I'm Dormark one of the people who was recently traveling with Ismark," says Dormark. Looking down at Bildrath, Dormark makes it point to stand at his full 6'6" height.
Galqarin takes the proffered glass and a fistful of snacks. He looks around the room, sniffing and taking in the heady scents but little else (perception9). He feels a new-found confidence in what would previously have been an intimidating social environment. Noticing Dormark has gone over to talk to one of the other guests he follows curiously, oblivious to the remarks that have riled the warforged.
Sandu, not being acquainted with being in a place of such opulence, felt very much out of place. To that end he fell back on a tried and true tactic that had worked for him in the past: as long as you looked like you knew what you were doing, people would assume you know what you were doing. And if that failed: just keep your head down and blend into the crowd.
He grabbed a glass of wine offered. He did not drink from it but held it in the snootiest way he could think off. Hopefully he could play the rest of his appearance off as just coming back from a hunting trip, that was something rich folk tended to do, or just plain eccentricity. With wine glass in hand, Sandu moved across the floor to try and overhear any interesting conversations, though not personally engaging in one unless directly addressed.
(I rolled in the DnDBeyond app. Does that directly feed into the campaign log? EDIT: so it does. Neat)
Dallid - Surprisingly, though Ferelyon is certainly drawing attention from the guests, you encountered no resistance from any of the staff regarding his being there. Almost certainly, this would strike you as being odd, given that you would assume that even Barovian high society would not be as accepting of bringing your pets/animals to an evening party.
The inside of the Dubois residence is breathtaking. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, ancient suits of armour stand to attention, handwoven rugs decorate the floor, and plush sofas provide comfort to guests as they wait, certainly, this is a stark contrast to the rest of Krezk.
You note Larnak give you a long look as you pass. He does not even attempt to politely cover the fact that he is clearly surprised that you were on the guest list. Up close, Lady Wachter's eyes appear to be blotchy and you note from her clothing that she is likely in a period of mourning.
Glancing outside, you are sure you catch a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face. A gentleman in tattered noble clothing, wearing a torn waistcoat with a monocle hanging aimlessly from its pocket. His pallid complexion and patchy, balding hair leave you in no doubt that this was the vampire spawn that fled from St. Andrals.
Dormark - Bildrath pales as he takes in your hulking frame. "Ahh, one of Ismark's travelling companions," he says, trying to let the interruption not disturb him too much. He turns to the rest of the group he is with. You know their type, their airs and graces and their faux-kindness, looking down on those that do not fit their mould. "This being -- for I assume that is what it is -- was one of the group I was referring to." He grins broadly. "Tell me, are you still scrapping around for loose change and looking for odd jobs? I'm sure one of my esteemed friends here can help you out." He pauses, pretending to think. "Why my friend, Tegid here, was just commenting on how he could use a new pack mule. Perhaps you might be able to make yourself useful."
"Trust me, Ismark of all people, knew his limitations,"Bildrath scoffs. "The name Lesser is not mockery, merely an acceptance that he is, at best, a pale imitation of his father." The rest of the group begins to laugh and chuckle, and you note one of the ladies rolling her eyes.
She says, under her voice but loud enough to hear, "there was talk of Kolyan's wife being unfaithful. Perhaps that would account for Ismark. I mean, it's hardly like Ireena is his."
The inside of the Dubois residence is breathtaking. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, ancient suits of armour stand to attention, handwoven rugs decorate the floor, and plush sofas provide comfort to guests as they wait, certainly, this is a stark contrast to the rest of Krezk. It seems almost out of place, or unrealistic, as false and shallow as the courtesy of the guests you currently speak to.
Glancing outside, you are sure you catch a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face. A gentleman in tattered noble clothing, wearing a torn waistcoat with a monocle hanging aimlessly from its pocket. His pallid complexion and patchy, balding hair leave you in no doubt that this was the vampire spawn that fled from St. Andrals.
Though the vampire spawn is not your greatest concern. Beyond him, you see someone who sets off all of your sensory alerts, Strahd's manservant, Rahadin (picture below as a reminder). Catching your eye, the dusk elf quickly attempts to cover his face and fade into the background.
Holy Crit!
((Congratulations on the Natural 20!))
The butler that welcomed all the guests to the Dubois Residence has an unnatural pallor to his skin. You would surmise that this poor gentleman is, or has likely been, under the effect of a curse; you are unsure whether his mind has been altered, swayed, or worse, possessed.
Galqarin - Oddly enough, you seem to feel at ease in the residence. By and large, the guests there are talkative, welcoming, and do not seem at all putout or judgemental of the fact that you are a bugbear.
As you approach Dormark, one of the ladies of the group gives you a coy wink. She confidently walks up to you. "Harri,"she says by way of introduction, offering her hand. "Short for Harribelle. Isn't this place marvellous?"she asks rhetorically. "I simply cannot wait for the unveiling of the paintings. I've heard this Vauquelin fellow was quite eccentric." Noticing Bildrath beginning to get into quite a heated discussion with Galqarin, she guides you to a quieter spot near the window, playfully linking her arm to yours.
"I think we're going to be in for a truly magical evening,"she says knowingly.
The inside of the Dubois residence is breathtaking. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, ancient suits of armour stand to attention, handwoven rugs decorate the floor, and plush sofas provide comfort to guests as they wait... You could swear this place was a little slice of paradise compared to the rest of Barovia.
Looking at Harri, you notice nothing to be remotely suspicious of; she seems like she is genuinely interested in you as a person, smiling pleasantly at your mannerisms, and when she laughs you are sure the room gets a little brighter.
Glancing outside, you note nothing of interest; a few plants and a nice-looking fountain that guests are congregating around. At the moment, you are a lot more interested in what is standing in front of you than the property's garden.
Sandu - Strangely enough, it appears as though your ploy is working. You make your way north to a statue on a plinth of a lady, arms wide, in a welcoming pose. "Oh my, how gauche," a woman near the statue declares, one hand clutching at her wine glass, her other gently resting upon her chin. She slightly changes the angle by which she is viewing the object, her vacant hand now resting on her hip. "The height of pretentiousity,"she declares to no one in particular before you catch her eye.
"Finally, a man of taste,"she says as she sees you sneering at the statue. "Charmed,"she says, offering you a gloved hand. "I must admit that I find your laxitudity to the dress code of this place both refreshing and avant-garde." She takes a long swig of her wine. "Anastrasya, darling," she says with a curtsy, "and you are?"
As you look around the interior of the Dubois Residence, it strikes you how differently the upper echelons live. Everything screams luxury and comfort, from the plush sofas to the handwoven rugs, to the expensive food and wine. You feel a sense of unease and a lack of belonging just standing among the other guests within the expansive house.
Glancing down at the plinth you note the name, Queen Ravenovia van Roeyen, the woman who bore Strahd von Zarovich. You wonder whether the statue has any semblance to Ravenovia as it smiles down at you.
All - As you explore the house, are you doing so as a group or individually? Currently, Dallid is venturing up stairs, do others follow or go to the other rooms on the ground floor, or descend to the basement?
Dormark noticing the dangers around him starts to go to collect the rest of the party and warn them, but Bildarth's comment stops him in his tracks. There is one thing you don't do to someone who lived with dwarves. You don't insult their friends.
"Miss if you don't have anything interesting to say, you should stay silent, it ruins your beauty. And you Bildrath the yellow belly, mewling, lily-livered, coward are not even worthy to even lick Ismark's boots. If you want to challenge me on that statement throw your glove, if not let everyone know the carven rat that you are," says Dormark pointing directly at Bildrath.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I've more important matters to attend to than teaching a fool of a man his place," says Dormark walking away. Dormark will attempt to gather Galqarin, Dailld, and Sandu so they may speak together.
Dormark - You notice Bildrath's lip curl up in a sneer and his face turn bright red. The other members of the group try to contain their laughter. "Well, he does have a point, Bildrath,"one of the younger gentlemen says with a smirk. "Don't suppose you fancy challenging him to a duel."
"Shut it!"Bildrath fumes before storming off, muttering under his breath.
Galqarin is more than flattered by the attention. "I am Gal... Raven", he pauses, then continues boldly. "Galqarin to my friends. In what way is this Vauquelin eccentric?"
He stands provocatively close to Harribelle, strange and unaccustomed feelings bubbling within him. Noticing Dormark approaching, hewhispers urgently, "Not now, can't you see I'm busy?!", before turning his back towards the metal man.
Sandu - Strangely enough, it appears as though your ploy is working. You make your way north to a statue on a plinth of a lady, arms wide, in a welcoming pose.
As you look around the interior of the Dubois Residence, it strikes you how differently the upper echelons live. Everything screams luxury and comfort, from the plush sofas to the handwoven rugs, to the expensive food and wine. You feel a sense of unease and a lack of belonging just standing among the other guests within the expansive house.
Glancing down at the plinth you note the name, Queen Ravenovia van Roeyen, the woman who bore Strahd von Zarovich. You wonder whether the statue has any semblance to Ravenovia as it smiles down at you.
All - As you explore the house, are you doing so as a group or individually? Currently, Dallid is venturing up stairs, do others follow or go to the other rooms on the ground floor, or descend to the basement?
Years of needing to blend into the crowd had prepared Sandu well to navigate around the Dubois residence. He was thankful that no one talked to him, for he was still overwhelmed by the decadence of his surroundings. He tried some mental gymnastics to calculate just how much wealth was on display. He had to abandon the attempt because he did not think he knew numbers big enough to convey the amount.
Sandu slipped past most of the guests to venture towards the north side of the manor where there were fewer people. Having succesfully avoided talking to anyone so far, Sandu figured he might as well try and enjoy himself on this evening of art. One of the bigger pieces that caught his eye was a statue of a statuesque woman. With her arms open the stone woman seemed to be welcoming him home.
Queen Ravenovia. Sandu read the plaque on the plinth. Strahd's mother. Hard to believe that monster had a mother but I guess monsters have to come from somewhere. Wonder what she would think of her son if she could see him now.
He heard a voice break up his thoughts. A woman entered his viewpoint, wine glass in hand and attitude plain on the face, who gave her opinions on the statue to no one in particular. That was until she spotted Sandu.
"Oh my, how gauche," a woman near the statue declares, one hand clutching at her wine glass, her other gently resting upon her chin. She slightly changes the angle by which she is viewing the object, her vacant hand now resting on her hip. "The height of pretentiousity,"she declares to no one in particular before you catch her eye.
"Finally, a man of taste,"she says as she sees you sneering at the statue. "Charmed,"she says, offering you a gloved hand. "I must admit that I find your laxitudity to the dress code of this place both refreshing and avant-garde." She takes a long swig of her wine. "Anastrasya, darling," she says with a curtsy, "and you are?"
'This old thing?'Sandu gestured at his get-up. He might not fit in but he was good at bullshitting his way out of things. 'You should have seen some of my other options. Frankly, it was either this or nothing. And can't really go about upstaging this event by showcasing that kind of art.' He added on a cheeky smile. Fake it until you make it.
'Sandu.'He returned the curtsy with a bow. He then directed both their gaze to the statue. 'Do you think it wise to speak of the count's mother in those terms? I'm sure she must have been a lovely lady to have raised such a son.'
His tone was neutral, playful even. It was more a ploy to see how she would react.
Sandu will currently stay where he is, though if the group decides to move along he will follow.
Galqarin -"Galqarin it is then," Harri says with a smile. "Some say that Vaquelin had an obsession with death. Others that he drew his inspiration from a dark power. Certainly, the works that the Dubois have collected seem to be focused on the Count."
As Dormark approaches, Harribelle playfully places a hand on your chest, positioning you between herself and the warforged. "Gods,"she gasps. Whispering to you she adds, "it is safe, isn't it? The metal man. Perhaps we should sneak upstairs and check out more of the house."
Sandu - Giving you a lengthy look, Anastrasya grins. "Perhaps you should have gone with the other option, it would certainly liven the place up!"she says, laughing. "A pleasure to meet you, Sandu. It's funny, in a certain light, you look a little like someone else I know."
"Oh yes,"she whispers sardonically, "I often find the mothers of warlords to be the most gentle and lovable sort. Though, I have heard that the Dubois are vastly loyal to him. Listen, how about we go on a bit of a snoop? We might find something interesting."
"Darling, you must accompany me,"she declares as she links her arm with yours. "We have a while until the exhibition opening, perhaps we should explore in the meantime." If you let her, she guides you to the left set of stairs leading down to the basement.
Galqarin - Harribelle snickers and leads you by the hand. "Come on,"she whispers as she leads you upstairs.
((Check Spoiler for map))
Upper Floor:
((As before, Blue X's denote unlocked doors, and Red X's for locked doors.))
Upstairs, the light is dimmer, sconces cover the walls creating flickering shadows throughout the corridors. The walls of the house are covered with a variety of paintings; the majority of them depict people of all shapes and sizes, with or without clothing, and often posing provocatively. "I wonder if we'll find anything exciting," Harribelle urges as you walk to the west of the property to a lounge area. Before you enter the room you hear voices coming from inside, it appears that those within are in the middle of an argument.
"I know she's taken it!"a woman's voice hisses angrily. "Honestly, Fiona. She's a liar and a thief!"
"Come now, Nora. We can challenge Maribelle when she arrives. If she has really stolen the Tears of Lysaga, then she'll be exposed the moment she opens the exhibition hall,"Lady Fiona's voice is instantly recognisable.
"My patron hates to see his most loyal servants fight like this," a darker, more sinister, male voice cuts in.
"Of course, my lord. Please, once Maribelle has explained how she managed to get her hand on the painting, then I am sure that some kind of resolution can be agreed upon. Perhaps compensation or..."
"But it's my painting, Fiona! It is irreplaceable, it holds sentimental value."
"If any foul deed -- theft as you say -- has been committed then that would provoke my master's wroth. We should not act until...wait," the man's voice breaks off, "I must take my leave."
Moments later, you hear a door slam, followed by two ladies leaving the lounge area, one of which is Lady Fiona Wachter.
Harribelle rolls her eyes as the ladies pass. "Looks like something has made got them riled up! I wonder if anyone else is in the room,"she says as she enters the lounge. "Empty. I wonder who the other person was. I'm sure I heard a man's voice."
Sandu - Giving you a lengthy look, Anastrasya grins. "Perhaps you should have gone with the other option, it would certainly liven the place up!"she says, laughing. "A pleasure to meet you, Sandu. It's funny, in a certain light, you look a little like someone else I know."
"Oh yes,"she whispers sardonically, "I often find the mothers of warlords to be the most gentle and lovable sort. Though, I have heard that the Dubois are vastly loyal to him. Listen, how about we go on a bit of a snoop? We might find something interesting."
"Darling, you must accompany me,"she declares as she links her arm with yours. "We have a while until the exhibition opening, perhaps we should explore in the meantime." If you let her, she guides you to the left set of stairs leading down to the basement.
Sandu rubbed his chin and beard. 'Guess I just got one of those faces, I suppose.'He replied with a shrug. 'It's easy to make friends when everyone assumes you're already their friend.' His grin turned full on smug.
Anastrasya's offer to go snooping around sounded enticing but there was something that set off an alarm bell in Sandu's mind, though he could not place his finger on what specifically. Maybe it was just anxiety of missing the exhibition's opening were he to venture away too far. Maybe he had seen one too many lady use her feminine wiles to lure men into a dark alley and take their belongings. Going down into an unfamiliar basement sounded about the same. Or maybe he had spent enough time in Barovia by now to consider everything suspicious until proven absolutely otherwise.
'I appreciate the offer.'Sandu said. He moved his hand in such a way that prevented Anastrasya from locking his arm in hers and disguised it by kissing her hand in the same gesture. 'But I shouldn't keep my friends waiting. They have a knack of getting themselves into trouble and if I don't keep an eye on them, who knows what they'll pull.'
Sandu turned on his heels. 'Perchance we'll bump into each other again later tonight. I'd love to hear more of your opinions on this whole artistic endeavour.' With that said Sandu peered across the crowded room to see if he could spot any of his companions.
Galqarin's eyes linger just a little too long on a painting depicting a lady, sans clothing except for a braid in her hair, lounging on a plush couch with an apple in her hand.
> "I wonder if we'll find anything exciting," Harribelle urges as you walk to the west of the property to a lounge area.
Wondering exactly what Haribelle might find that she considers exciting, Galqarin is annoyed to hear the argumentative voices and in equal part relieved when the room's occupants vacate it. He looks around the now empty room, taking in the furnishings - including a plush couch like in the painting - and general decor. "It seems as if we have the room to ourselves, at least for now."
I'm assuming Galqarin did not recognise the man's voice? Is there any obvious indication of where the gentleman might have departed? It looks like there is a door in the South wall of the lounge. Also, do the doors have locks, and if so are the keys in them?
"Gal we need to...," as soon as Dormark turns back he finds Galqarin missing. "Moradin's bread," curses the warforge as looks around the hall trying to find someone.
Spotting Sandu Dormark briskly walks towards him and says quietly. "We are in trouble I spotted one of Stradh's vampires and his manservant Rahadin. We should hurry to find the others. They could be in danger."
Dallid - As you walk up the stairs you pass Lady Wachter and another, elegantly dressed woman. Neither pays you much attention, but you note that the woman that is not Lady Wachter, is red-faced and has a glint of anger in her eyes.
Upstairs is dimly lit. Light from flickering wall sconces causes nearby shadows to appear to jump and dance. Oil paintings can be found throughout the upper floor's corridors, they depict a variety of people, often wearing little to no clothing, in suggestive and provocative poses. It is clear that this is what passes as highbrow art, at least to the Dubois'.
Upper Floor:
Walking northward, you find yourself on a long corridor spanning the width of the property. In front of you are double doors. There do not appear to be many guests on this level, save for an elderly couple talking in hushed tones to each other; they seem to be in good spirits as they look at the rather obscene paintings, laughing and giggling to each other as they go between each one.
As you are about to further explore the upper floor, you hear a commotion coming from downstairs ((covered in the post below)).
Sandu - "Very well," Anastrasya says, a note of faux-sorrow in her voice, "your loss." She smiles as you kiss her hand. "Oh, I am certain we shall see each other again before the night is out, darling. Seek me out when you are done babysitting," her lips curl up in a smirk. "Artistic endeavour, you say? Well, that is certainly one word for it." She lets out a chuckle. "I'm not sure I'd be quite as charitable." She turns her back and proceeds to make her way downstairs.
No sooner than she has left, then you spot Dormark walking briskly up to you. He delivers his message urgently before a commotion starts in the great hall ((covered in the post below)).
Galqarin - ((I do not think you would know the man's voice. That said, if you have ever heard Rahadin talk then you may well recognise it -- I shall leave it up to you to decide whether that has ever occurred. The door to the south is locked and does not have a key present. This would be the only other door in the room.))
The room is as lavish as the rest of the house, the couches seem luxurious and comfortable cushions lie throughout. "Why don't you join me," Harri says suggestively as she takes a seat, on the long couch. "I must admit, there is something about you Galqarin. You know, I think it is because I feel safe around you." She lounges on her side. "There are so many dangers out in the cold and wet. It is nice to be somewhere warm and safe, isn't it?"
Before you can join Harribelle, you hear noise coming from the direction of the stairs. "Looks like our hosts have likely arrived," Harri declares. "I wouldn't pay it much mind."
Shouts and cheers emanate from the great hall as a couple dressed in finery, in their late forties, make their entrance. Maribelle Dubois, a socialite, wears a long sweeping red velvet dress with a golden raven brooch, her hair is dark brown and worn in shoulder-length waves, and she walks with natural confidence, occasionally stopping to meet and greet her guests. Her husband, Anthony Dubois, appears to be more than happy for his wife to take the limelight. He is tall and pasty, dressed in a red velvet jacket clearly designed to match his wife's dress, his once-black hair is greying and thinning in parts, and his nervousness is clearly apparent. If Maribelle Dubois is cursed with good looks, it is clear that Anthony suffers from no such affliction.
The whole affair is an exercise of pomp and circumstance, as empty words are exchanged between empty people. Hands are shaken, cheeks are kissed, and pleasantries are exchanged as the couple make their way to where Sandu and Dormark stand. Maribelle Dubois greets both with a smile and a nod before making her way beside the statue of Ravenovia. Anthony on the other hand stands beside them, brushing nervously at the back of his balding head. "Glad, you uhh were able to be here,"he stumbles unnaturally over the greeting. "'course, this exhibition was Mari's idea."
A Speech, Interrupted
His wife, Maribelle, scowls at him and gently coughs, signalling all around for quiet. "Please! Please! Honoured guests, friends, and acquaintances," her voice rings out commandingly. "Ladies and gentlemen, it gives Anthony," she glares at her husband, "and myself great pleasure to welcome you to our home. I know, though many of you are local, there are those that have travelled far and wide, to which I say thank you. Thank you for joining us at the opening of the Atrocity Exhibition."
Maribelle pauses a moment to acknowledge some of those gathered; around thirty guests currently stand in front of her. "As you may, or may not, have known, I had the opportunity to meet with Guy Vaquelin before his passing,"she says smugly.
"More than a couple of innocent meetings I heard," a hushed voice whispers from the crowd. Anthony, becoming red-faced, desperately looks for the culprit but comes up short.
"Friends, we are here to celebrate the works of Vauquelin, not engage in wild gossip,"Maribelle continues, unswayed by the interruption. "Tonight we are able to announce that we have been able to gather in one place the nine influential works that comprise Vauquelin's greatest piece the Triumph De La Mort." At this announcement, an excited murmur runs through the crowd: "weren't they believed lost?", "it is said the artwork contains great power", "they must have cost a fortune!"
"And how, pray tell, did you get your grubby, thieving hands on the Tears of Lysaga?!" a woman shouts at Maribelle.
"Nora!"Lady Wachter quickly tries to quieten her friend.
Maribelle, not to be outdone, storms forward, only to immediately be restrained by her husband. "We paid you good money for that painting, you wench!"she screams at Nora. "Only for you and to try and renege on the sale once you realised its worth!"
Nora, roughly pushing past Lady Fiona Wachter, gets up in Maribelle's face. "You underpaid and you know it! You're nothing but a swindler!"she screams, as the two rough-looking men from the front door approach from behind.
Calming herself, Maribelle takes a deep breath. "Please escort Ms Brahim and Ms Wachter from this place," she commands the thugs.
"Really Nora, I had hoped that civility would have been maintained. Perhaps you might have even enjoyed the painting when united with its fellows, as a whole piece. But now, for the safety of my guests, I shall have to ask you to leave," Maribelle says to the disgruntled woman, freeing herself from her husband's grasp, and gently patting down her dress.
"This isn't the last you've heard from me!"Nora screams as she is gently ushered by the thugs towards the front door. "He'll hear of this. Mark my words! Come, Fiona!" With that, Lady Nora Brahim and Lady Fiona Wachter, with doormen in tow, storm out of the building.
Turning back to her guests, Maribelle sighs heavily and rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "Sorry about that dear friends. It looks like the old green-eyed monster reared its head but has subsequently been defeated. Jealousy turns even the most civilised of folk into raving loons, does it not? Please, try and enjoy the party, we shall unveil the Triumph De La Mort around half past midnight. Please all join us in the exhibition hall at that time."
> ((I do not think you would know the man's voice. That said, if you have ever heard Rahadin talk then you may well recognise it -- I shall leave it up to you to decide whether that has ever occurred. The door to the south is locked and does not have a key present. This would be the only other door in the room.))
((No, I don't believe Galqarin would have knowingly encountered Rahadin.))
> The room is as lavish as the rest of the house, the couches seem luxurious and comfortable cushions lie throughout. "Why don't you join me," Harri says suggestively as she takes a seat, on the long couch. "I must admit, there is something about you Galqarin. You know, I think it is because I feel safe around you." She lounges on her side. "There are so many dangers out in the cold and wet. It is nice to be somewhere warm and safe, isn't it?"
"Safe around me? Most people think I'm a monster."
> Before you can join Harribelle, you hear noise coming from the direction of the stairs. "Looks like our hosts have likely arrived," Harri declares. "I wouldn't pay it much mind."
"If you say so, then I won't", grins Galqarin, relieved that the moment has not been spoilt, and closes the door to the corridor with an audible snick. The room is immediately quieter and more serene. "With so many people trying to impress the hosts, I don't think they will miss us."
He pads over to the South door and gently tests the handle, finding it locked. Turning back towards Haribelle, he takes a long, appraising look of her prone form on the couch before locking his eyes upon hers and taking a seat other end, not quite touching. "Wasn't there anything exciting in here after all?"
Dallid perks up at the mention of "him" and gets to work exploring the rest of the upstairs, quickly, so that if Strahd were to show, he'd be knowledgeable of the house at least
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Paladin - warforged - orange
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Dallid perception check 9
Dallid is taking a glass of wine and offering the food to Ferelyon, whom I assume draws attention?
Dallid will be perfectly happy to take up the offer to explore, and just go explore the house, starting with Up and working his way Down
Paladin - warforged - orange
(I see the universe with a nat 20 for 26 in game log)
Dormark moves past the waitress with a nod and approaches the weasley figure that is Bildrath. "The only lesser I see is a man who mocks others when they are not present. Salutations I'm Dormark one of the people who was recently traveling with Ismark," says Dormark. Looking down at Bildrath, Dormark makes it point to stand at his full 6'6" height.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Galqarin takes the proffered glass and a fistful of snacks. He looks around the room, sniffing and taking in the heady scents but little else (perception 9). He feels a new-found confidence in what would previously have been an intimidating social environment. Noticing Dormark has gone over to talk to one of the other guests he follows curiously, oblivious to the remarks that have riled the warforged.
Perception check: 12
Sandu, not being acquainted with being in a place of such opulence, felt very much out of place. To that end he fell back on a tried and true tactic that had worked for him in the past: as long as you looked like you knew what you were doing, people would assume you know what you were doing. And if that failed: just keep your head down and blend into the crowd.
He grabbed a glass of wine offered. He did not drink from it but held it in the snootiest way he could think off. Hopefully he could play the rest of his appearance off as just coming back from a hunting trip, that was something rich folk tended to do, or just plain eccentricity. With wine glass in hand, Sandu moved across the floor to try and overhear any interesting conversations, though not personally engaging in one unless directly addressed.
(I rolled in the DnDBeyond app. Does that directly feed into the campaign log?
EDIT: so it does. Neat)
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
Perception Checks:
Dallid - Surprisingly, though Ferelyon is certainly drawing attention from the guests, you encountered no resistance from any of the staff regarding his being there. Almost certainly, this would strike you as being odd, given that you would assume that even Barovian high society would not be as accepting of bringing your pets/animals to an evening party.
Dallid's Perception check:
The inside of the Dubois residence is breathtaking. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, ancient suits of armour stand to attention, handwoven rugs decorate the floor, and plush sofas provide comfort to guests as they wait, certainly, this is a stark contrast to the rest of Krezk.
You note Larnak give you a long look as you pass. He does not even attempt to politely cover the fact that he is clearly surprised that you were on the guest list. Up close, Lady Wachter's eyes appear to be blotchy and you note from her clothing that she is likely in a period of mourning.
Glancing outside, you are sure you catch a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face. A gentleman in tattered noble clothing, wearing a torn waistcoat with a monocle hanging aimlessly from its pocket. His pallid complexion and patchy, balding hair leave you in no doubt that this was the vampire spawn that fled from St. Andrals.
Dormark - Bildrath pales as he takes in your hulking frame. "Ahh, one of Ismark's travelling companions," he says, trying to let the interruption not disturb him too much. He turns to the rest of the group he is with. You know their type, their airs and graces and their faux-kindness, looking down on those that do not fit their mould. "This being -- for I assume that is what it is -- was one of the group I was referring to." He grins broadly. "Tell me, are you still scrapping around for loose change and looking for odd jobs? I'm sure one of my esteemed friends here can help you out." He pauses, pretending to think. "Why my friend, Tegid here, was just commenting on how he could use a new pack mule. Perhaps you might be able to make yourself useful."
"Trust me, Ismark of all people, knew his limitations," Bildrath scoffs. "The name Lesser is not mockery, merely an acceptance that he is, at best, a pale imitation of his father." The rest of the group begins to laugh and chuckle, and you note one of the ladies rolling her eyes.
She says, under her voice but loud enough to hear, "there was talk of Kolyan's wife being unfaithful. Perhaps that would account for Ismark. I mean, it's hardly like Ireena is his."
Dormark's Perception check:
The inside of the Dubois residence is breathtaking. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, ancient suits of armour stand to attention, handwoven rugs decorate the floor, and plush sofas provide comfort to guests as they wait, certainly, this is a stark contrast to the rest of Krezk. It seems almost out of place, or unrealistic, as false and shallow as the courtesy of the guests you currently speak to.
Glancing outside, you are sure you catch a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face. A gentleman in tattered noble clothing, wearing a torn waistcoat with a monocle hanging aimlessly from its pocket. His pallid complexion and patchy, balding hair leave you in no doubt that this was the vampire spawn that fled from St. Andrals.
Though the vampire spawn is not your greatest concern. Beyond him, you see someone who sets off all of your sensory alerts, Strahd's manservant, Rahadin (picture below as a reminder). Catching your eye, the dusk elf quickly attempts to cover his face and fade into the background.
Holy Crit!
((Congratulations on the Natural 20!))
The butler that welcomed all the guests to the Dubois Residence has an unnatural pallor to his skin. You would surmise that this poor gentleman is, or has likely been, under the effect of a curse; you are unsure whether his mind has been altered, swayed, or worse, possessed.
Galqarin - Oddly enough, you seem to feel at ease in the residence. By and large, the guests there are talkative, welcoming, and do not seem at all putout or judgemental of the fact that you are a bugbear.
As you approach Dormark, one of the ladies of the group gives you a coy wink. She confidently walks up to you. "Harri," she says by way of introduction, offering her hand. "Short for Harribelle. Isn't this place marvellous?" she asks rhetorically. "I simply cannot wait for the unveiling of the paintings. I've heard this Vauquelin fellow was quite eccentric." Noticing Bildrath beginning to get into quite a heated discussion with Galqarin, she guides you to a quieter spot near the window, playfully linking her arm to yours.
"I think we're going to be in for a truly magical evening," she says knowingly.
Galqarin's Perception check:
The inside of the Dubois residence is breathtaking. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, ancient suits of armour stand to attention, handwoven rugs decorate the floor, and plush sofas provide comfort to guests as they wait... You could swear this place was a little slice of paradise compared to the rest of Barovia.
Looking at Harri, you notice nothing to be remotely suspicious of; she seems like she is genuinely interested in you as a person, smiling pleasantly at your mannerisms, and when she laughs you are sure the room gets a little brighter.
Glancing outside, you note nothing of interest; a few plants and a nice-looking fountain that guests are congregating around. At the moment, you are a lot more interested in what is standing in front of you than the property's garden.
Sandu - Strangely enough, it appears as though your ploy is working. You make your way north to a statue on a plinth of a lady, arms wide, in a welcoming pose. "Oh my, how gauche," a woman near the statue declares, one hand clutching at her wine glass, her other gently resting upon her chin. She slightly changes the angle by which she is viewing the object, her vacant hand now resting on her hip. "The height of pretentiousity," she declares to no one in particular before you catch her eye.
"Finally, a man of taste," she says as she sees you sneering at the statue. "Charmed," she says, offering you a gloved hand. "I must admit that I find your laxitudity to the dress code of this place both refreshing and avant-garde." She takes a long swig of her wine. "Anastrasya, darling," she says with a curtsy, "and you are?"
Sandu's Perception check:
As you look around the interior of the Dubois Residence, it strikes you how differently the upper echelons live. Everything screams luxury and comfort, from the plush sofas to the handwoven rugs, to the expensive food and wine. You feel a sense of unease and a lack of belonging just standing among the other guests within the expansive house.
Glancing down at the plinth you note the name, Queen Ravenovia van Roeyen, the woman who bore Strahd von Zarovich. You wonder whether the statue has any semblance to Ravenovia as it smiles down at you.
All - As you explore the house, are you doing so as a group or individually? Currently, Dallid is venturing up stairs, do others follow or go to the other rooms on the ground floor, or descend to the basement?
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dormark noticing the dangers around him starts to go to collect the rest of the party and warn them, but Bildarth's comment stops him in his tracks. There is one thing you don't do to someone who lived with dwarves. You don't insult their friends.
"Miss if you don't have anything interesting to say, you should stay silent, it ruins your beauty. And you Bildrath the yellow belly, mewling, lily-livered, coward are not even worthy to even lick Ismark's boots. If you want to challenge me on that statement throw your glove, if not let everyone know the carven rat that you are," says Dormark pointing directly at Bildrath.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I've more important matters to attend to than teaching a fool of a man his place," says Dormark walking away. Dormark will attempt to gather Galqarin, Dailld, and Sandu so they may speak together.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dormark - You notice Bildrath's lip curl up in a sneer and his face turn bright red. The other members of the group try to contain their laughter. "Well, he does have a point, Bildrath," one of the younger gentlemen says with a smirk. "Don't suppose you fancy challenging him to a duel."
"Shut it!" Bildrath fumes before storming off, muttering under his breath.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Galqarin is more than flattered by the attention. "I am Gal... Raven", he pauses, then continues boldly. "Galqarin to my friends. In what way is this Vauquelin eccentric?"
He stands provocatively close to Harribelle, strange and unaccustomed feelings bubbling within him. Noticing Dormark approaching, he whispers urgently, "Not now, can't you see I'm busy?!", before turning his back towards the metal man.
Years of needing to blend into the crowd had prepared Sandu well to navigate around the Dubois residence. He was thankful that no one talked to him, for he was still overwhelmed by the decadence of his surroundings. He tried some mental gymnastics to calculate just how much wealth was on display. He had to abandon the attempt because he did not think he knew numbers big enough to convey the amount.
Sandu slipped past most of the guests to venture towards the north side of the manor where there were fewer people. Having succesfully avoided talking to anyone so far, Sandu figured he might as well try and enjoy himself on this evening of art. One of the bigger pieces that caught his eye was a statue of a statuesque woman. With her arms open the stone woman seemed to be welcoming him home.
Queen Ravenovia. Sandu read the plaque on the plinth. Strahd's mother. Hard to believe that monster had a mother but I guess monsters have to come from somewhere. Wonder what she would think of her son if she could see him now.
He heard a voice break up his thoughts. A woman entered his viewpoint, wine glass in hand and attitude plain on the face, who gave her opinions on the statue to no one in particular. That was until she spotted Sandu.
'This old thing?' Sandu gestured at his get-up. He might not fit in but he was good at bullshitting his way out of things. 'You should have seen some of my other options. Frankly, it was either this or nothing. And can't really go about upstaging this event by showcasing that kind of art.' He added on a cheeky smile. Fake it until you make it.
'Sandu.' He returned the curtsy with a bow. He then directed both their gaze to the statue. 'Do you think it wise to speak of the count's mother in those terms? I'm sure she must have been a lovely lady to have raised such a son.'
His tone was neutral, playful even. It was more a ploy to see how she would react.
Sandu will currently stay where he is, though if the group decides to move along he will follow.
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
Galqarin - "Galqarin it is then," Harri says with a smile. "Some say that Vaquelin had an obsession with death. Others that he drew his inspiration from a dark power. Certainly, the works that the Dubois have collected seem to be focused on the Count."
As Dormark approaches, Harribelle playfully places a hand on your chest, positioning you between herself and the warforged. "Gods," she gasps. Whispering to you she adds, "it is safe, isn't it? The metal man. Perhaps we should sneak upstairs and check out more of the house."
Sandu - Giving you a lengthy look, Anastrasya grins. "Perhaps you should have gone with the other option, it would certainly liven the place up!" she says, laughing. "A pleasure to meet you, Sandu. It's funny, in a certain light, you look a little like someone else I know."
"Oh yes," she whispers sardonically, "I often find the mothers of warlords to be the most gentle and lovable sort. Though, I have heard that the Dubois are vastly loyal to him. Listen, how about we go on a bit of a snoop? We might find something interesting."
"Darling, you must accompany me," she declares as she links her arm with yours. "We have a while until the exhibition opening, perhaps we should explore in the meantime." If you let her, she guides you to the left set of stairs leading down to the basement.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"He's means well, and he's mostly harmless", Galqarin smiles conspiratorially, "Sneaking is what we bugbears do best!"*
(*In homage to Tiggr)
Night (11:30 pm) - Day 8 - The Dubois Residence
((Cue 24 countdown music))
Galqarin - Harribelle snickers and leads you by the hand. "Come on," she whispers as she leads you upstairs.
((Check Spoiler for map))
Upper Floor:
Upstairs, the light is dimmer, sconces cover the walls creating flickering shadows throughout the corridors. The walls of the house are covered with a variety of paintings; the majority of them depict people of all shapes and sizes, with or without clothing, and often posing provocatively. "I wonder if we'll find anything exciting," Harribelle urges as you walk to the west of the property to a lounge area. Before you enter the room you hear voices coming from inside, it appears that those within are in the middle of an argument.
"I know she's taken it!" a woman's voice hisses angrily. "Honestly, Fiona. She's a liar and a thief!"
"Come now, Nora. We can challenge Maribelle when she arrives. If she has really stolen the Tears of Lysaga, then she'll be exposed the moment she opens the exhibition hall," Lady Fiona's voice is instantly recognisable.
"My patron hates to see his most loyal servants fight like this," a darker, more sinister, male voice cuts in.
"Of course, my lord. Please, once Maribelle has explained how she managed to get her hand on the painting, then I am sure that some kind of resolution can be agreed upon. Perhaps compensation or..."
"But it's my painting, Fiona! It is irreplaceable, it holds sentimental value."
"If any foul deed -- theft as you say -- has been committed then that would provoke my master's wroth. We should not act until... wait," the man's voice breaks off, "I must take my leave."
Moments later, you hear a door slam, followed by two ladies leaving the lounge area, one of which is Lady Fiona Wachter.
Harribelle rolls her eyes as the ladies pass. "Looks like something has made got them riled up! I wonder if anyone else is in the room," she says as she enters the lounge. "Empty. I wonder who the other person was. I'm sure I heard a man's voice."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dallid went up and up as far as he could go alone, it seems
Paladin - warforged - orange
Sandu rubbed his chin and beard. 'Guess I just got one of those faces, I suppose.' He replied with a shrug. 'It's easy to make friends when everyone assumes you're already their friend.' His grin turned full on smug.
Anastrasya's offer to go snooping around sounded enticing but there was something that set off an alarm bell in Sandu's mind, though he could not place his finger on what specifically. Maybe it was just anxiety of missing the exhibition's opening were he to venture away too far. Maybe he had seen one too many lady use her feminine wiles to lure men into a dark alley and take their belongings. Going down into an unfamiliar basement sounded about the same. Or maybe he had spent enough time in Barovia by now to consider everything suspicious until proven absolutely otherwise.
'I appreciate the offer.' Sandu said. He moved his hand in such a way that prevented Anastrasya from locking his arm in hers and disguised it by kissing her hand in the same gesture. 'But I shouldn't keep my friends waiting. They have a knack of getting themselves into trouble and if I don't keep an eye on them, who knows what they'll pull.'
Sandu turned on his heels. 'Perchance we'll bump into each other again later tonight. I'd love to hear more of your opinions on this whole artistic endeavour.' With that said Sandu peered across the crowded room to see if he could spot any of his companions.
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
Galqarin's eyes linger just a little too long on a painting depicting a lady, sans clothing except for a braid in her hair, lounging on a plush couch with an apple in her hand.
> "I wonder if we'll find anything exciting," Harribelle urges as you walk to the west of the property to a lounge area.
Wondering exactly what Haribelle might find that she considers exciting, Galqarin is annoyed to hear the argumentative voices and in equal part relieved when the room's occupants vacate it. He looks around the now empty room, taking in the furnishings - including a plush couch like in the painting - and general decor. "It seems as if we have the room to ourselves, at least for now."
I'm assuming Galqarin did not recognise the man's voice? Is there any obvious indication of where the gentleman might have departed? It looks like there is a door in the South wall of the lounge. Also, do the doors have locks, and if so are the keys in them?
"Gal we need to...," as soon as Dormark turns back he finds Galqarin missing. "Moradin's bread," curses the warforge as looks around the hall trying to find someone.
Spotting Sandu Dormark briskly walks towards him and says quietly. "We are in trouble I spotted one of Stradh's vampires and his manservant Rahadin. We should hurry to find the others. They could be in danger."
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dallid - As you walk up the stairs you pass Lady Wachter and another, elegantly dressed woman. Neither pays you much attention, but you note that the woman that is not Lady Wachter, is red-faced and has a glint of anger in her eyes.
Upstairs is dimly lit. Light from flickering wall sconces causes nearby shadows to appear to jump and dance. Oil paintings can be found throughout the upper floor's corridors, they depict a variety of people, often wearing little to no clothing, in suggestive and provocative poses. It is clear that this is what passes as highbrow art, at least to the Dubois'.
Upper Floor:
Walking northward, you find yourself on a long corridor spanning the width of the property. In front of you are double doors. There do not appear to be many guests on this level, save for an elderly couple talking in hushed tones to each other; they seem to be in good spirits as they look at the rather obscene paintings, laughing and giggling to each other as they go between each one.
As you are about to further explore the upper floor, you hear a commotion coming from downstairs ((covered in the post below)).
Sandu - "Very well," Anastrasya says, a note of faux-sorrow in her voice, "your loss." She smiles as you kiss her hand. "Oh, I am certain we shall see each other again before the night is out, darling. Seek me out when you are done babysitting," her lips curl up in a smirk. "Artistic endeavour, you say? Well, that is certainly one word for it." She lets out a chuckle. "I'm not sure I'd be quite as charitable." She turns her back and proceeds to make her way downstairs.
No sooner than she has left, then you spot Dormark walking briskly up to you. He delivers his message urgently before a commotion starts in the great hall ((covered in the post below)).
Galqarin - ((I do not think you would know the man's voice. That said, if you have ever heard Rahadin talk then you may well recognise it -- I shall leave it up to you to decide whether that has ever occurred. The door to the south is locked and does not have a key present. This would be the only other door in the room.))
The room is as lavish as the rest of the house, the couches seem luxurious and comfortable cushions lie throughout. "Why don't you join me," Harri says suggestively as she takes a seat, on the long couch. "I must admit, there is something about you Galqarin. You know, I think it is because I feel safe around you." She lounges on her side. "There are so many dangers out in the cold and wet. It is nice to be somewhere warm and safe, isn't it?"
Before you can join Harribelle, you hear noise coming from the direction of the stairs. "Looks like our hosts have likely arrived," Harri declares. "I wouldn't pay it much mind."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Night (11:38 pm) - Day 8 - The Dubois Residence
The Dubois' Arrival
Shouts and cheers emanate from the great hall as a couple dressed in finery, in their late forties, make their entrance. Maribelle Dubois, a socialite, wears a long sweeping red velvet dress with a golden raven brooch, her hair is dark brown and worn in shoulder-length waves, and she walks with natural confidence, occasionally stopping to meet and greet her guests. Her husband, Anthony Dubois, appears to be more than happy for his wife to take the limelight. He is tall and pasty, dressed in a red velvet jacket clearly designed to match his wife's dress, his once-black hair is greying and thinning in parts, and his nervousness is clearly apparent. If Maribelle Dubois is cursed with good looks, it is clear that Anthony suffers from no such affliction.
The whole affair is an exercise of pomp and circumstance, as empty words are exchanged between empty people. Hands are shaken, cheeks are kissed, and pleasantries are exchanged as the couple make their way to where Sandu and Dormark stand. Maribelle Dubois greets both with a smile and a nod before making her way beside the statue of Ravenovia. Anthony on the other hand stands beside them, brushing nervously at the back of his balding head. "Glad, you uhh were able to be here," he stumbles unnaturally over the greeting. "'course, this exhibition was Mari's idea."
A Speech, Interrupted
His wife, Maribelle, scowls at him and gently coughs, signalling all around for quiet. "Please! Please! Honoured guests, friends, and acquaintances," her voice rings out commandingly. "Ladies and gentlemen, it gives Anthony," she glares at her husband, "and myself great pleasure to welcome you to our home. I know, though many of you are local, there are those that have travelled far and wide, to which I say thank you. Thank you for joining us at the opening of the Atrocity Exhibition."
Maribelle pauses a moment to acknowledge some of those gathered; around thirty guests currently stand in front of her. "As you may, or may not, have known, I had the opportunity to meet with Guy Vaquelin before his passing," she says smugly.
"More than a couple of innocent meetings I heard," a hushed voice whispers from the crowd. Anthony, becoming red-faced, desperately looks for the culprit but comes up short.
"Friends, we are here to celebrate the works of Vauquelin, not engage in wild gossip," Maribelle continues, unswayed by the interruption. "Tonight we are able to announce that we have been able to gather in one place the nine influential works that comprise Vauquelin's greatest piece the Triumph De La Mort." At this announcement, an excited murmur runs through the crowd: "weren't they believed lost?", "it is said the artwork contains great power", "they must have cost a fortune!"
"And how, pray tell, did you get your grubby, thieving hands on the Tears of Lysaga?!" a woman shouts at Maribelle.
"Nora!" Lady Wachter quickly tries to quieten her friend.
Maribelle, not to be outdone, storms forward, only to immediately be restrained by her husband. "We paid you good money for that painting, you wench!" she screams at Nora. "Only for you and to try and renege on the sale once you realised its worth!"
Nora, roughly pushing past Lady Fiona Wachter, gets up in Maribelle's face. "You underpaid and you know it! You're nothing but a swindler!" she screams, as the two rough-looking men from the front door approach from behind.
Calming herself, Maribelle takes a deep breath. "Please escort Ms Brahim and Ms Wachter from this place," she commands the thugs.
"Really Nora, I had hoped that civility would have been maintained. Perhaps you might have even enjoyed the painting when united with its fellows, as a whole piece. But now, for the safety of my guests, I shall have to ask you to leave," Maribelle says to the disgruntled woman, freeing herself from her husband's grasp, and gently patting down her dress.
"This isn't the last you've heard from me!" Nora screams as she is gently ushered by the thugs towards the front door. "He'll hear of this. Mark my words! Come, Fiona!" With that, Lady Nora Brahim and Lady Fiona Wachter, with doormen in tow, storm out of the building.
Turning back to her guests, Maribelle sighs heavily and rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "Sorry about that dear friends. It looks like the old green-eyed monster reared its head but has subsequently been defeated. Jealousy turns even the most civilised of folk into raving loons, does it not? Please, try and enjoy the party, we shall unveil the Triumph De La Mort around half past midnight. Please all join us in the exhibition hall at that time."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
> ((I do not think you would know the man's voice. That said, if you have ever heard Rahadin talk then you may well recognise it -- I shall leave it up to you to decide whether that has ever occurred. The door to the south is locked and does not have a key present. This would be the only other door in the room.))
((No, I don't believe Galqarin would have knowingly encountered Rahadin.))
> The room is as lavish as the rest of the house, the couches seem luxurious and comfortable cushions lie throughout. "Why don't you join me," Harri says suggestively as she takes a seat, on the long couch. "I must admit, there is something about you Galqarin. You know, I think it is because I feel safe around you." She lounges on her side. "There are so many dangers out in the cold and wet. It is nice to be somewhere warm and safe, isn't it?"
"Safe around me? Most people think I'm a monster."
> Before you can join Harribelle, you hear noise coming from the direction of the stairs. "Looks like our hosts have likely arrived," Harri declares. "I wouldn't pay it much mind."
"If you say so, then I won't", grins Galqarin, relieved that the moment has not been spoilt, and closes the door to the corridor with an audible snick. The room is immediately quieter and more serene. "With so many people trying to impress the hosts, I don't think they will miss us."
He pads over to the South door and gently tests the handle, finding it locked. Turning back towards Haribelle, he takes a long, appraising look of her prone form on the couch before locking his eyes upon hers and taking a seat other end, not quite touching. "Wasn't there anything exciting in here after all?"
Dallid perks up at the mention of "him" and gets to work exploring the rest of the upstairs, quickly, so that if Strahd were to show, he'd be knowledgeable of the house at least
Paladin - warforged - orange