About Mimi Von Sollier
From inside the dungeons Garvin thought back upon his life; a mournful occasion he hardly bemoaned it's passing. Although never one to whine about his lot, he was used to it. The dirge of Ravenloft had never torn his spirits asunder; however it provided him a fatalistic attitude.
His chest burnt from the Nobles' brand, eye swollen shut, welts and bruises across his body. From humble beginnings he had risen and fallen like a comet.
Since his birth he had been a slave of some sort. Never talking about a mysterious mother, Garvin's father had brought him up in a small woodsman hut. As he reached puberty he was called to serve at the Laird Rowencrofts Manor house, the Laird was a prideful man. Despite the land he owned being a minor Lot, he decided to have a skald to tell of his greatness and entertain at parties.
A confirmed bachelor Rowencroft, held many an elaborate party. To Garvin he was a good boss, teaching him about how to perform. A more generous Noble than most, sensible with the whip but only rarely using the snout.
Of course, Rowencrofts' audacious parties would attract the attention of the more reprehensible nobles. A group of nobles descended one night upon the house and had a horrific party. Garvin was forced to entertain throughout; watching the depredations inflicted upon his Laird the Bard nearly lost his mind - only awaking to find himself in a cell.
Breaking out of his cell, using his familiar
Willow smiles the first blessed relief in months since coming to this damned place, she riffles through her Harrowing deck - a last trace of her home. The soft sound reminds her of home....
'Inside the dark caravan decorated
Leathery flap of wings breaks the revelry. Mother Kindry had sent her here, to find... well the old lady was enigmatic.
"You'll find old friends and new ones, leaving some behind and you may find yourself." her voice rasped.