Bertolt frowns slightly at the fact the vistani served Strahd, having found that he rather liked some of them. He had traded songs and knowledge with them but makes note to be more wary around the wanders the next time they come across them.
Talion - the body is much too big to fit in the bag. Ismark and Irek both say as soon as possible. It's already been 3 days and bodies after they are dead, well..... They also think that some in town may want to pay their respects as well. Their father was a well-respected man, after all...
Irek says, "We made the coffin ourselves, no one else was brave enough. As long as I know he will lie in hallowed ground, there is no reason for me to go with you. I think I'll be safer here anyways. No offense."
It's well past midday at this point, the days events and your travels in the town taking perhaps longer than you expected.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Do you have a cart or some means to get his body to the graveyard at the church? It is a long way to carry the box. Perhaps we should take him and you should wait here, Irek." Erven readies his things, asks if there is a shed with any equipment that could help. "When we return, I wonder if there is anything from your father that could help us in our task, any clues or notes that he may have written about Strahd."
Erven walks back over and examines the body again, looking carefully at the neck, examining and looking for a mechanism of death. ? Truly natural causes? He looks for swelling of the legs or signs of heart failure. He looks at his body shape, how old was he, anything else he can determine about his cause of death.
Erven takes a look at the body and from your best guess, it looks like he did die from a heart attack. There are no outward signs that indicate anything else. He looks to be about 50 years old or so. His body shape is typical of a 50-year old man, a bit of a belly, big furry ears, nose hairs connecting to his white moustache...
Ismark cocks his head a bit. "Well, I will help but there are 5 of you. Surely together it won't be that difficult?" Ismark shakes his head, "I think you are misunderstanding the beast. She is not a thing that is always there that one can point to. She does not come around for tea or an afternoon ale. She is the lord of this land, and like many lords, not a present one. We see signs of her everywhere - the beasts, the creatures, the very pall that hangs over this land is because of her - yet, I have only seen her once when I was younger, during a ghoul attack on the town." It's quite strange actually, "Despite all the evidence to the contrary, people who have seen her, know her, serve her - there are still some doltish part of humanity that doesn't even think she exists or is real! Imagine - the bodies of the dead lie around, smart people telling you "this thing is real and dangerous', and still there are some who have the gall to say 'No, this I cannot believe. It's not real. Perhaps they have died of fright? I believe only myself'."
"My father knew the threat was real and repelled attacks from her minions before. The people respected him for it. It's important to get him into the ground. It would not do to have him rise in undeath..."
Erven finished examining the expired burgomaster, regards Ismark's words. "Yes, idiots. As if there was a pandemic or a plaque affecting the land, and half of the people choosing to believe that it simply doesn't exist, or resistant to any help to stop it. You will not find us to be such idiots. I know what damage she can do. I will fight her to my last breath." He nods and looks at the hand made casket. "Ok fine, we carry it then I guess. Let's put some rope around it after we close it and that can give us some hand holds. It's best that we go ahead and get this done before nighttime."
Talion examines the coffin and its contents more closely, lifting it at one end carefully, to assess its weight. When he is don, he turns to Ismark.
"We are new around here, but where I come from this seems like job for common haulers and such. Why do you need the likes of us? And if you need us, why do you weigh us down with the coffin, when we should be free to protect the people carrying it? What is it that you are expecting?"
Edit: @DM: Could Talion lift it, however awkwardly?
Talion examines the coffin and its contents more closely, lifting it at one end carefully, to assess its weight. When he is don, he turns to Ismark.
"We are new around here, but where I come from this seems like job for common haulers and such. Why do you need the likes of us? And if you need us, why do you weigh us down with the coffin, when we should be free to protect the people carrying it? What is it that you are expecting?"
Edit: @DM: Could Talion lift it, however awkwardly?
this task would be suited for them, but as they have mentioned, no one seems to want to help them. You all (characters) have beeen around this type of thing before, I.e. funerals it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. Talion on his own, cannot lift this. In modern day it would take a minimum of four people, six people in generally are pallbearers. Ismark tells you that he would appreciate the help and notices your reluctance. He would have you help carry the casket to the cemetery at the church. Maybe this is unclear from the description.
Bertolt moves to help grab onto the coffin without much protest, motioning for Ismark to join him. "Please excuse my companions. I for one will gladly help you with this task. I know the loss of ones father can be hard to get through and having a proper funeral helps with accepting it."
Erven nods and fits the lid on the coffin, closing it or hammering it shut. We loop rope around the coffin in a manner to provide hand holds and with help from Bertolt and Ismark, we lift the coffin off the table and place it on the ground, getting it prepared to carry it to the grave site. Erven looks to Onyx and Sho and says "We need some additional help with pallbearers. Will you help us to carry this? Let's put the burgomaster to rest."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ismark - 12.
Onyx - 21.
..The four of you (Bertolt, Erven, Ismark, and Onyx) heft the coffin on your shoulders. Thanks to some quick adjustments, Erven is able to fashion some handholds that make the job easier. Talion and Sho don't look super-impressed and it shows.
Making your way out the front door, Irek is careful to close and lock the door behind you, tears in his eyes. You make your way down the street, the way you originally came. Along the way, some of the windows you notice have faces in them, looking out. A few people open their doors and follow the procession. Even Mary comes out of her house, sad and withdrawn but paying respects nonetheless. You pass the mercantile shop and the tavern. The three Vistani you met earlier are in the doorway, smirking at you. They blow kisses at the adventurers and the several townsfolk that follow shake their heads in disgust. Further along, you can see the church in the distance. Perhaps 50 feet from the church, an older man comes up to you and asks if you would stop and lay the coffin down. He is old and hunched, and he leans heavily on a cane that looks like it came from the leg bone of some giant animal. He is missing all of his teeth it seems. "I be 'appy te pay me respects here, 'afore ye get te that cursed place, son," the man gums at Ismark. Some others come up as well, nodding, and holding flowers or small icons or tokens. "Kolyan be mebbe bein' a bit daft at times but 'e 'ad tha right 'o it. An' we trusted him, an' we be lookin' te you next, sonny boy," the old man grins, showing his gums off.
Ismark calls out, "Okay, set it down, set it down." You all comply. Next, perhaps 10 villagers or so come up and lay wreaths, bead work, bits of coin, and even some religious iconography. One middle aged woman draws some inscriptions on the casket itself. You recognize it as a symbol of protection.
After all is said and done, the townsfolk present nod at the coffin and at Ismark, and give the rest of you a curious glance, especially Erven. They look darkly at the church in the distance and then return to their homes - or wherever they came from.
Ismark shrugs and then nods at the 3 of you, "Okay, let's continue. We'll take it to the front and see where Donavich needs it." You lift up the casket again and make your way forth again. It's not long before you're standing at the front entrance to the church.
"Okay, right here," Ismark says. You all sigh with some relief as the weight is let down gently. Atop a slight rise stands a gray, sagging edifice of stone and wood. This church has obviously weathered the assaults of evil for centuries on end and is worn and weary. A bell tower rises toward the back, and flickering light shines through holes in the shingled roof. The rafters strain feebly against their load. The heavy wooden doors of the church are covered with claw marks and scarred by fire, covering over what was once a beautifully painted icon that you recognize as Lathander.
Ismark walks up and pounds on the massive wooden doors several times. No answer. He tries again to no avail. Finally, Ismark pulls open one of the doors revealing a ten-foot-wide, twenty-foot-long hall leading to a brightly lit chapel. The hall is unlit and reeks of mildew. Four doors, two on each side of the hall, lead to adjacent chambers. One last time, you heft the coffin and bring in the coffin to the hall. You can see that the chapel in the distance is strewn with debris, and you hear a soft voice from within reciting a prayer. Suddenly, the prayer is blotted out by an inhuman scream that rises up from beneath the wooden floor.
A short man of middling age and height, wisps of white hair and an unkempt scruffy beard of several weeks half stumbles half runs up to you. You can tell he has not slept - perhaps for days. His eyes are sunken and red and glassy, and he smells as if he hasn't bathed or cleaned himself in a long time. He wears heavy brown robes and his face looks gaunt. Onyx, your eyes drift to the heavy chain around his neck - a big icon of the Morninglord himself.
"Yes, yes, yes? What is it? The wind howls through this place you know, awful sounds it brings, yes? Yes,"he looks past you to the coffin and then back to Ismark. "Hmm, I'm terribly sorry, my boy. Kolyan was a good man. Of course I heard about him passing and was wondering when you would show up. The grave is ready for him, but it would be a bad omen to do the rites now. Dawn is best, yes, dawn is the best. Is Irek not here with you?" He looks askance at all of you. "Umm, who are they Ismark?" He coughs and moves a bit towards the southernmost door on the right side of the chapel, kind of standing in front of it. "I apologize. I am Father Donavich, Priest of Lathander, the Morninglord. This is his house of worship. Excuse the mess, if you will." Donavich looks around in obvious embarrassment, tries to flatten his hair a bit, ruffles his robes, and straightens his collar.
You all stand in this hallway, perhaps 40 feet long, before it opens up into a large chapel area with broken pews. This hallway has 4 doors - 2 on the east side, and 2 on the west side. Lanterns adorn the hallway and further away in the chapel area, it seems that there are many many candles that are lit and they glow in the dimness. The chapel area enjoys a lot of natural light, in any case.
"Father, that was not the wind. Who else is here in the church? That sound came from below us." He pauses to consider him, watch his mannerisms and reply. "I disagree with your thoughts about his burial. There is still light and I feel it is best that we get him in the ground before nightfall. You can proceed with the ceremonies for him, I'm sure that you have given many funeral rites and there is nothing that you need to prepare. My friend Onyx here is also a man of Lathander, he can help us as well. Why is the church in such... shape?" He regards his clothing, his appearance, trying to discern why he may be in this shape. "Do we need to make sure that the church is sealed up, from outside forces.. or attackers?" he asks.
Insight (into his appearance, replies about who is in the church, is he lying, and his explanations) : 18
Talion nods, "I would definitely prefer a night in a warm bed to this. Besides, don't the dead rise at night? Get him in the ground sooner, is my vote. Or take him back to the Ismark's house."
"Father, that was not the wind. Who else is here in the church? That sound came from below us." He pauses to consider him, watch his mannerisms and reply. "I disagree with your thoughts about his burial. There is still light and I feel it is best that we get him in the ground before nightfall. You can proceed with the ceremonies for him, I'm sure that you have given many funeral rites and there is nothing that you need to prepare. My friend Onyx here is also a man of Lathander, he can help us as well. Why is the church in such... shape?" He regards his clothing, his appearance, trying to discern why he may be in this shape. "Do we need to make sure that the church is sealed up, from outside forces.. or attackers?" he asks.
Insight (into his appearance, replies about who is in the church, is he lying, and his explanations) : 18
Donavich was clearly lying about it being the wind. The priest looks appraisingly and a bit hopeful at Onyx, upon hearing he too is a man of the Morninglord. "It is true I have put more bodies that I care to count in the cemetery, but all were placed there during the dawn rituals, as will the Burgomaster. I do not know what gives you authority over my faith, elf, but the burial will take place at dawn. Sunlight is essential, you see?! And you can leave the Burgomaster here overnight. I will prepare the body. I would appreciate the help as well, if you can manage?" He says this last part more to Onyx. Donavich then raises an eyebrow at you, "Unless you too are a priest of Lathander?" The rest of your queries seem to weigh heavily on him. As if on cue, a terrible moaning and wailing can be heard once more, coming from under the floor.
Sighing, tears coming suddenly to his eyes, Donavich speaks. "Years ago, a mage from a faraway land, dressed in black robes came to the village, looking for warriors to stand against the witch. A dozen or more agreed, the mage's words flowed like honey into their ears." He looks down, sadly, "My beautiful son was one of them." He coughs and squints his eyes, as if remembering something. "Well, brave or stupid, they marched upon Castle Ravenloft. It went about as well as you would think. We could see the flashes of spells from the mage's fight with the cursed creature lighting up the sky, and the sounds like thunder rumbled in the air. They failed. My son, my Doru, came back to me a couple nights later, weak and feverish. It seems,"he chokes back tears, "that the witch left him a gift of her own. I took him down there,"Donavich looks at his feet as if seeing through the floor, "and he has been there ever since. I pray every night that the Morninglord himself will give me a way to cure him, to turn him back to my Doru...He is my son! My flesh, my blood! I had no choice!" There is a hint of madness or desperation in his eyes.
As the silence grows, Talion voices his concerns. Donavich coughs. "Of course. I am sure you can find rest at the Burgomaster's mansion,"he looks at Ismark, who is just intently listening to the priest's story, but nods in the affirmative. "Though in Barovia, the dead don't need an invitation from the sun to walk. It's a bit more...intricate than the time of day. I must prepare the body." The priest waits to see if you have any questions before going down the hall to the chapel. He comes back quickly with a wheeled contraption of some sort. He nods to Ismark and they lift the body of Kolyan onto it and Donavich begins to roll it into the chapel.
Erven sidles up to Ismark and says "Do you think we need to go find out what is in the basement? I don't think we can leave the chapel and leave your father to this . . troubled priest, but I don't know that I want to spend the night here with something like that locked in the basement." He starts to include the others in the conversation as Donavich moves further away and he won't be overheard. "Ampirevay in the asementbay, if you know what I mean."
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Bertolt frowns slightly at the fact the vistani served Strahd, having found that he rather liked some of them. He had traded songs and knowledge with them but makes note to be more wary around the wanders the next time they come across them.
Talion - the body is much too big to fit in the bag.
Ismark and Irek both say as soon as possible. It's already been 3 days and bodies after they are dead, well.....
They also think that some in town may want to pay their respects as well. Their father was a well-respected man, after all...
Irek says, "We made the coffin ourselves, no one else was brave enough. As long as I know he will lie in hallowed ground, there is no reason for me to go with you. I think I'll be safer here anyways. No offense."
It's well past midday at this point, the days events and your travels in the town taking perhaps longer than you expected.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
"Do you have a cart or some means to get his body to the graveyard at the church? It is a long way to carry the box. Perhaps we should take him and you should wait here, Irek." Erven readies his things, asks if there is a shed with any equipment that could help. "When we return, I wonder if there is anything from your father that could help us in our task, any clues or notes that he may have written about Strahd."
Erven walks back over and examines the body again, looking carefully at the neck, examining and looking for a mechanism of death. ? Truly natural causes? He looks for swelling of the legs or signs of heart failure. He looks at his body shape, how old was he, anything else he can determine about his cause of death.
Medicine : 22
Erven takes a look at the body and from your best guess, it looks like he did die from a heart attack. There are no outward signs that indicate anything else. He looks to be about 50 years old or so. His body shape is typical of a 50-year old man, a bit of a belly, big furry ears, nose hairs connecting to his white moustache...
Ismark cocks his head a bit. "Well, I will help but there are 5 of you. Surely together it won't be that difficult?" Ismark shakes his head, "I think you are misunderstanding the beast. She is not a thing that is always there that one can point to. She does not come around for tea or an afternoon ale. She is the lord of this land, and like many lords, not a present one. We see signs of her everywhere - the beasts, the creatures, the very pall that hangs over this land is because of her - yet, I have only seen her once when I was younger, during a ghoul attack on the town." It's quite strange actually, "Despite all the evidence to the contrary, people who have seen her, know her, serve her - there are still some doltish part of humanity that doesn't even think she exists or is real! Imagine - the bodies of the dead lie around, smart people telling you "this thing is real and dangerous', and still there are some who have the gall to say 'No, this I cannot believe. It's not real. Perhaps they have died of fright? I believe only myself'."
"My father knew the threat was real and repelled attacks from her minions before. The people respected him for it. It's important to get him into the ground. It would not do to have him rise in undeath..."
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Erven finished examining the expired burgomaster, regards Ismark's words. "Yes, idiots. As if there was a pandemic or a plaque affecting the land, and half of the people choosing to believe that it simply doesn't exist, or resistant to any help to stop it. You will not find us to be such idiots. I know what damage she can do. I will fight her to my last breath." He nods and looks at the hand made casket. "Ok fine, we carry it then I guess. Let's put some rope around it after we close it and that can give us some hand holds. It's best that we go ahead and get this done before nighttime."
Talion examines the coffin and its contents more closely, lifting it at one end carefully, to assess its weight. When he is don, he turns to Ismark.
"We are new around here, but where I come from this seems like job for common haulers and such. Why do you need the likes of us? And if you need us, why do you weigh us down with the coffin, when we should be free to protect the people carrying it? What is it that you are expecting?"
Edit: @DM: Could Talion lift it, however awkwardly?
this task would be suited for them, but as they have mentioned, no one seems to want to help them. You all (characters) have beeen around this type of thing before, I.e. funerals it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.
Talion on his own, cannot lift this. In modern day it would take a minimum of four people, six people in generally are pallbearers. Ismark tells you that he would appreciate the help and notices your reluctance. He would have you help carry the casket to the cemetery at the church. Maybe this is unclear from the description.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Bertolt moves to help grab onto the coffin without much protest, motioning for Ismark to join him. "Please excuse my companions. I for one will gladly help you with this task. I know the loss of ones father can be hard to get through and having a proper funeral helps with accepting it."
Erven nods and fits the lid on the coffin, closing it or hammering it shut. We loop rope around the coffin in a manner to provide hand holds and with help from Bertolt and Ismark, we lift the coffin off the table and place it on the ground, getting it prepared to carry it to the grave site. Erven looks to Onyx and Sho and says "We need some additional help with pallbearers. Will you help us to carry this? Let's put the burgomaster to rest."
Onyx nods and assists.
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Well the 4 of you can do it, if you want to proceed?
If you would like to set out right away, each pallbearer give me a strength check.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Strength: 17
Erven strength check (Athletics) : 15
Ismark - 12.
Onyx - 21.
..The four of you (Bertolt, Erven, Ismark, and Onyx) heft the coffin on your shoulders. Thanks to some quick adjustments, Erven is able to fashion some handholds that make the job easier. Talion and Sho don't look super-impressed and it shows.
Making your way out the front door, Irek is careful to close and lock the door behind you, tears in his eyes.
You make your way down the street, the way you originally came. Along the way, some of the windows you notice have faces in them, looking out. A few people open their doors and follow the procession. Even Mary comes out of her house, sad and withdrawn but paying respects nonetheless. You pass the mercantile shop and the tavern. The three Vistani you met earlier are in the doorway, smirking at you. They blow kisses at the adventurers and the several townsfolk that follow shake their heads in disgust.
Further along, you can see the church in the distance. Perhaps 50 feet from the church, an older man comes up to you and asks if you would stop and lay the coffin down. He is old and hunched, and he leans heavily on a cane that looks like it came from the leg bone of some giant animal. He is missing all of his teeth it seems. "I be 'appy te pay me respects here, 'afore ye get te that cursed place, son," the man gums at Ismark. Some others come up as well, nodding, and holding flowers or small icons or tokens. "Kolyan be mebbe bein' a bit daft at times but 'e 'ad tha right 'o it. An' we trusted him, an' we be lookin' te you next, sonny boy," the old man grins, showing his gums off.
Ismark calls out, "Okay, set it down, set it down." You all comply. Next, perhaps 10 villagers or so come up and lay wreaths, bead work, bits of coin, and even some religious iconography. One middle aged woman draws some inscriptions on the casket itself. You recognize it as a symbol of protection.
After all is said and done, the townsfolk present nod at the coffin and at Ismark, and give the rest of you a curious glance, especially Erven. They look darkly at the church in the distance and then return to their homes - or wherever they came from.
Ismark shrugs and then nods at the 3 of you, "Okay, let's continue. We'll take it to the front and see where Donavich needs it." You lift up the casket again and make your way forth again. It's not long before you're standing at the front entrance to the church.
"Okay, right here," Ismark says. You all sigh with some relief as the weight is let down gently. Atop a slight rise stands a gray, sagging edifice of stone and wood. This church has obviously weathered the assaults of evil for centuries on end and is worn and weary. A bell tower rises toward the back, and flickering light shines through holes in the shingled roof. The rafters strain feebly against their load. The heavy wooden doors of the church are covered with claw marks and scarred by fire, covering over what was once a beautifully painted icon that you recognize as Lathander.
Ismark walks up and pounds on the massive wooden doors several times. No answer. He tries again to no avail. Finally, Ismark pulls open one of the doors revealing a ten-foot-wide, twenty-foot-long hall leading to a brightly lit chapel. The hall is unlit and reeks of mildew. Four doors, two on each side of the hall, lead to adjacent chambers. One last time, you heft the coffin and bring in the coffin to the hall.
You can see that the chapel in the distance is strewn with debris, and you hear a soft voice from within reciting a prayer. Suddenly, the prayer is blotted out by an inhuman scream that rises up from beneath the wooden floor.
A short man of middling age and height, wisps of white hair and an unkempt scruffy beard of several weeks half stumbles half runs up to you. You can tell he has not slept - perhaps for days. His eyes are sunken and red and glassy, and he smells as if he hasn't bathed or cleaned himself in a long time. He wears heavy brown robes and his face looks gaunt. Onyx, your eyes drift to the heavy chain around his neck - a big icon of the Morninglord himself.
"Yes, yes, yes? What is it? The wind howls through this place you know, awful sounds it brings, yes? Yes," he looks past you to the coffin and then back to Ismark. "Hmm, I'm terribly sorry, my boy. Kolyan was a good man. Of course I heard about him passing and was wondering when you would show up. The grave is ready for him, but it would be a bad omen to do the rites now. Dawn is best, yes, dawn is the best. Is Irek not here with you?" He looks askance at all of you. "Umm, who are they Ismark?" He coughs and moves a bit towards the southernmost door on the right side of the chapel, kind of standing in front of it. "I apologize. I am Father Donavich, Priest of Lathander, the Morninglord. This is his house of worship. Excuse the mess, if you will." Donavich looks around in obvious embarrassment, tries to flatten his hair a bit, ruffles his robes, and straightens his collar.
You all stand in this hallway, perhaps 40 feet long, before it opens up into a large chapel area with broken pews. This hallway has 4 doors - 2 on the east side, and 2 on the west side. Lanterns adorn the hallway and further away in the chapel area, it seems that there are many many candles that are lit and they glow in the dimness. The chapel area enjoys a lot of natural light, in any case.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
"Father, that was not the wind. Who else is here in the church? That sound came from below us." He pauses to consider him, watch his mannerisms and reply. "I disagree with your thoughts about his burial. There is still light and I feel it is best that we get him in the ground before nightfall. You can proceed with the ceremonies for him, I'm sure that you have given many funeral rites and there is nothing that you need to prepare. My friend Onyx here is also a man of Lathander, he can help us as well. Why is the church in such... shape?" He regards his clothing, his appearance, trying to discern why he may be in this shape. "Do we need to make sure that the church is sealed up, from outside forces.. or attackers?" he asks.
Insight (into his appearance, replies about who is in the church, is he lying, and his explanations) : 18
14.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Talion nods, "I would definitely prefer a night in a warm bed to this. Besides, don't the dead rise at night? Get him in the ground sooner, is my vote. Or take him back to the Ismark's house."
Bertolt stretches as they put the coffin down for the finally time, slowly stepping back from the priest due to the odor from the man.
Donavich was clearly lying about it being the wind. The priest looks appraisingly and a bit hopeful at Onyx, upon hearing he too is a man of the Morninglord.
"It is true I have put more bodies that I care to count in the cemetery, but all were placed there during the dawn rituals, as will the Burgomaster. I do not know what gives you authority over my faith, elf, but the burial will take place at dawn. Sunlight is essential, you see?! And you can leave the Burgomaster here overnight. I will prepare the body. I would appreciate the help as well, if you can manage?" He says this last part more to Onyx. Donavich then raises an eyebrow at you, "Unless you too are a priest of Lathander?"
The rest of your queries seem to weigh heavily on him. As if on cue, a terrible moaning and wailing can be heard once more, coming from under the floor.
Sighing, tears coming suddenly to his eyes, Donavich speaks. "Years ago, a mage from a faraway land, dressed in black robes came to the village, looking for warriors to stand against the witch. A dozen or more agreed, the mage's words flowed like honey into their ears." He looks down, sadly, "My beautiful son was one of them." He coughs and squints his eyes, as if remembering something. "Well, brave or stupid, they marched upon Castle Ravenloft. It went about as well as you would think. We could see the flashes of spells from the mage's fight with the cursed creature lighting up the sky, and the sounds like thunder rumbled in the air. They failed. My son, my Doru, came back to me a couple nights later, weak and feverish. It seems," he chokes back tears, "that the witch left him a gift of her own. I took him down there," Donavich looks at his feet as if seeing through the floor, "and he has been there ever since. I pray every night that the Morninglord himself will give me a way to cure him, to turn him back to my Doru...He is my son! My flesh, my blood! I had no choice!" There is a hint of madness or desperation in his eyes.
As the silence grows, Talion voices his concerns. Donavich coughs. "Of course. I am sure you can find rest at the Burgomaster's mansion," he looks at Ismark, who is just intently listening to the priest's story, but nods in the affirmative. "Though in Barovia, the dead don't need an invitation from the sun to walk. It's a bit more...intricate than the time of day. I must prepare the body." The priest waits to see if you have any questions before going down the hall to the chapel. He comes back quickly with a wheeled contraption of some sort. He nods to Ismark and they lift the body of Kolyan onto it and Donavich begins to roll it into the chapel.
Donavich
Church interior
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Erven sidles up to Ismark and says "Do you think we need to go find out what is in the basement? I don't think we can leave the chapel and leave your father to this . . troubled priest, but I don't know that I want to spend the night here with something like that locked in the basement." He starts to include the others in the conversation as Donavich moves further away and he won't be overheard. "Ampirevay in the asementbay, if you know what I mean."