Victor steps in front of Sheva to block further arrows from striking her and returns fire with two more arrows, both aimed at the first of her attackers.
Ranged Attack #1 Longbow
Longbow Damage
Ranged Attack #2 Longbow
Longbow Damage
Being struck by lightning and hearing what the druid said, Vasilios decides to make their life complicated. "Okay, attack me and let the fighters free, sucker."
Druid Warrior #1: 15
Druid Warrior #2: 12
Druid Caster #2: 18
The two druidic warriors are dealt blows from Sheva and Victor. Casdin thinks of the well being of his comrades and works to make sure Vasilios can live to keep fighting. And the mage in question is quick on the uptake and begins defensive measures. Galador connects with his first attack, but his second just barely misses, tearing through the cloth weave the druidic caster is wearing.
The druidic caster mutters more, but switches targets to the very strong swordsman bearing down on her. She releases another crackling of electricity.
The two elven warriors, can feel danger when they try to leave the spot their standing. Yet, with Sheva right there, why would they run? They both attack, trying to land blows.
As Sheva is struck by both warriors she falls to the ground, unconscious and clinging to life.
She hears a faint voice amidst the darkness.
N͡ot ͜ye̸t chi̛ld.͞ ͢We ̸ha̧ve̢ ͘mu̴c̴h ͝t̕o ͘d́o.
Once his defenses set up, Vasilios takes on the offensive and hits the assailants with what he has more: fire.
Casdin will move to Sheva and heal her.
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Galador shouts as Sheva falls under a muderous barrage of sword blows from multiple foes.
Rage without peer flows like lava through his veins and the thunderwave breaks against him like the tide against the uncaring rock. "You but delay me from handing out the death you so richly have earned! I see the fear you have inside, you can run but never hide! I will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb!" he yells as his own STEEL cuts and thrusts at the spellcaster!
"Nothing shall remain, not your memory, your name! It will be as though you never, ever lived!" he calls as he SURGES forth in ACTION!
The druidic warriors are caught off guard as Sheva who they cut asunder suddenly comes back to consciousness. One of them screams as a powerful bolt of fire tears through him like paper. The caster is no match for the weight of Galador's furious steel.
The last druid, nervously looking back and forth from each of you, turns to runs. The energy surrounding him suddenly converges, squeezing him with a sudden condensed thunderous energy. He falls over dead.
The fields are quiet, but the house creaks and groans as the massive plant growth surrounding and clawing it begin to dry up and wither quickly, falling off and crumbling. You see a few crows fly from the forest and sit upon the roof.
You hear a voice from behind you.
"Is it over?"
"Who is there? Show yourself, or.." Casdin jerks his thumbs towards the corpses of the druids "that."
Sheva darts awake with a heavy gasp as the dust settles and sits straight up.
The sudden jerk of sitting up aggravates some of her injuries.
"Ow. I don't feel like we won. Please tell me we won though." she quietly mutters.
"And Galador better have been ridiculously heroic in avenging my near-demise." she adds with a smirk.
Victor steps over to inspect the bodies of the Druids, after all, they don't need their belongings any longer.
The voice speaking to you is of Davian Martikov, the man who greeted you earlier and who's home you just freed from the blighted druid's clutches.
"You have my thanks, but perhaps, more importantly, you have my trust." he says, his gruff breaking into what could be the pangs of hope and kindness He ushers you inside his home, over th dead brambles and slain druids.
You all watch as the couple crows fly through the window broken up with the writhing vines of the blighted druids. You each as a flock of them descend and, almost imperceptibly, you watch as they pass a support beam but rather than emerge on the other sides as birds, you see humans walk past, Davian's family.
"I'll put some tea on. I'm sure you'd like something other than bramble herbs?" Davian's eldest daughter Stefania asks, a small smile on her face. She looks uncomfortable as if it been a long time since she's worn the expression.
Davian clears a table on the first floor and invites you to sit. He eases himself down as well, and takes a deep breath.
"First I should apologize,though you have done so much for us I hope to request your service further."
To the offer of something else than tea, Vasilios responds "Well, I've heard you make some top quality wine. I wouldn't mind to have a try."
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Galador rushes up to the druidic swordsman that seems to have died from a fatal magic hug. He reveres the grip on his sword on drives it DOWN, making sure that the body stays a corpse.
After wiping off his gore-soaked blade on the ragged rags of the slain foe, Galador SPRINTS over to where Sheva has risen, made stronger from Casin's healing but still recovering from her almost-death experience.
He drops his weapons and rushes to her, taking up her hand. "Sheva, my sweet! Are you alright? I'll have you know that each one of those bastards! is now slain, paid the ultimate price for what they did to you! O!, I sang the songs of the ancient kings in their slaying, but still I feel I've not done my duty, having left thy side to slay the enemy mana-tosser, I left thee vulnerable to nasty blades and sharp things that are pointy and hurt-some.
Dost thee forgive me? I swear to never again leave your side and let sharp steel pierce thee in so many places. I shiver that thy warm, soft lips might be turned cold and pale from my negligence."
Victor approaches Galador and Sheva, "My apologies for interrupting your ahh... tender moment but I think you should know Sheva that the staff of the Druid who died upon the roof had a staff of perhaps some value. Shall I retrieve it for your inspection?"
"Why Galador my dear, I didn't know you cared so much!" Sheva feigns jokingly before resting her head on his shoulder.
"But in all seriousness, thank you."
"I'd hug you but I'm still too sore, and you have so many metallic pointy-things on you." she adds with a wink and a smile.
She then turns her attention to Victor.
"Thanks Victor. I think we all need to take a look at it. Between me, Vasilos and Casdin, surely we can figure out what it is. I'm hoping for a wine-conjuring staff!"
"And Casdin, thank you for the healing. I owe you some drinks once we're out of this mess."
"Ok, I'm going to sit now. Ow."
"Yes, Oghma, we thank you for allowing me to wield your power to save lives. As always, I am in your debt."
Casdin will inspect the staff to see what he can learn of it.
The staff is made of gnarled dead wood that seems almost cold to the touch.
Upon studying the staff, you learn of its properties. Once a day, you may transform one dead tree or shrub into blight. The higher your druidic level, the more powerful the transformed creature. However, at higher levels the chance for the creature to become violent to its summoner increases. Blights die at sunrise and sundown, but mostly follow their summoner's instructions.
Must attune to use.
"What help do you require?"
Davian Martikov happily serves you wine from the store. However, the taste is....less than desired, though not necessarily bad. There is definitely an alcoholic kick though.
"It might not be much, but we of this land need to numb ourselves from time to time. So..."
He sets down his own glass.
"What do you know of the master of this land, and the subjects he rules over?"
"I only know what my companions have told me, but he is apparently not a good person."
Sheva enjoys the wine but her demeanour quickly darkens at the question from Davian.
"Yes ... the vampire. Some of us have ... met ... him. We didn't exactly hit it off." she says with a soured expression.
"We saw the tome upstairs. How did you come to possess it? Do you have more information about him?"
Victor heads in and hands the staff to Sheva.
Having not read the book or met the Master of these lands Victor remains uncharacteristically silent and just listens.
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Galador guzzles the proferred wine like it was the finest necter. He's had naught but the weak stuff that the ever-full goblet gives out and he's beyond grateful just to have something else to swill. That it has a kick to it is all the better.
"Aye, we've tumbled with that bastard," Galador growls as the lord of the land is mentioned. "I'm pleased to say that I stood toe to toe with him! Alas, 'twere not a fair fight and did not...go well.
But of his subjects we've met few. The handful that we did meet, when first we came to this thrice-cursed place, were timid, fearful folk, well cowed with the spirit of mice."
Davian chuckles.
"Not a nice person, eh? Haven't heard that one before."
He continues, after another long drag from his glass.
"Strahd. That is his name. The master of this accursed lands and all who become trapped inside. You say you stood toe to toe with him? I suspect he was playing with you, though perhaps you are the saviors this land has been waiting for."
"As for the tome, we have kept it secret. It is the book of Strahd himself and he holds it very dear. If he should catch word that you hold it in your possession, he will come for you and he will show no mercy."
"As enemies of the master, I will offer any assistance I can. Is there anything you wish to know? Any service I can provide?"
Sheva takes a deep drink and recalls her lore of the undead from her younger days.
"Strahd's a vampire, which makes him amongst the most powerful of the undead, save perhaps for a lich. He's difficult to kill, but not impossible. He must have some kind of weakness."
She takes another drink.
"Several days, maybe a week ago, an old woman did a card reading for us. She foretold of our meeting and said, and I quote, to 'look to the wizard of wines, in wood and sand the treasure hides.'"
"So either the treasure she spoke of is the book, or perhaps there's something else useful around here?"
"She also spoke of a weapon, a sword of sunlight. Have you heard of such a thing?"
"Also something about a village drowned by a river and an entertaining man with a monkey who could help us."
Sheva pauses to recall the words, which seem to have been uttered a lifetime ago.
"Also ... also something about a father's tomb, in reference to Strahd. That this would help us find him."
"I was ready to dismiss all of it as the ramblings of a crazy old woman, but here we are. And clearly we have a very mutual interest."
"So any answers you have would be quite valuable. Also perhaps a bale of hay where I could sleep for about a week?" she adds with a laugh.
"Prophesy is odd. There are some among the faithful of Oghma that have the ability, and it really only tends to be useful in hindsight. I prefer facts to flights of fancy." says Casdin dismissively of the subject.
"I do concur, however, any information that you can provide us, like where the road to Waterdeep is, would be exceedingly useful. I'm not sure where I am specifically, but I've been told that even people in Kara Tur user Waterdeep as a landmark."
"Are we safe from him right now?" says Vasilios, paranoic, looking everywhere nervously. "I mean, he's so powerful and that, can't he see us or something?"
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Galador can't help himself and he chuckles heartily. "You wish to roll in the hay about a week? Well if this passable wine holds out I guess I'd be up for it!" he says with a grin and a wink.
"But aye, Davian, if you have wished to persons seeking to come to a clash of arms with this "Strahd"--though that name sounds more suited to a milquetoast tea-boy--then we are such. If you have aught that we can use toward his downfall, any little bits of hoard or secret that have been saved for a day of Rising, then now is the time.
But if you have naught, then gives us what answers you have and we must be off--the innkeeper will want to know that his wine will flow again and he has promised us a look at his armory."
I see you have a bright one with you," he says, grinning at Sheva. "And quite lovely too."
He is quickly smacked by his daughter, Stefani.
"Dad, don't harass our saviors."
Davian chuckles.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He turns to Vasilios, addressing his fears.
"Strahd is powerful, but not omnipotent. He may hear word of you traveling his lands, but all he has the rumors and unearthly speed to search. But as I've said, take care to keep your wits about you."
At Casidn's question, he frowns in confusion.
"Waterdeep? I'm afraid travel outside of Barovia is impossible. As long as Strahd lives, you and your souls, like ours, are trapped in this land, to be forever recycled and tormented unless consumed by some otherworldly beast."
At Galador's remark, Davian looks down sheepishly. It seems he takes great pride in his wine, even if it isn't the most palatable.
"The innkeeper sent you? So my boy Urwin still cares what happens to his old man...hmm...."
he seems lost in thought as he starts to reminisce, as old men tend to do.
"That makes no logical sense. You can't imprison someone in a land. There must be a way out, although it sounds like it's well hidden."
"Wait, did you just say forever recycled?"
"Now there must be some way out of this place... This is not the first land I have been a prisoner to and I got out of that at least we can fight our way out of this one. Right?"
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"Ah, yes, I think he did call himself Urwin. If it will bring you comfort, Davian, I'll tell him that you are well.
Of note, he had to men there, named Szoldar and Yvgeni. Said they were soldiers for hire. WE did not take them this time, but we...have some hard deeds that may need more swords. Know you aught of these two?"
Davian looks at you all in disbelief.
"You really know nothing?" he asks, referencing the land with large gestures.
"This is the land of Barovia, a separate plain of existence. Only the unfortunate and those unfortunate enough to reside here before it segmented into isolation. The woods that surround the livable land is dangerous and unending. There is no way out."
He addresses Vasilios.
"Yes, of all the Barovians you should come across, a good number are soulless, as more bodies are born than more souls are trapped in this realm. In fact, some of the creatures of this land find children with souls a delicacy."
To Victor:
"I suppose, if you lifted the darkness on this land by slaying the lord over it, perhaps Barovia may be saved. I know not."
"I know not the names you speak, but sellswords are common for escorting along the roads. Most won't go out at night, no sane person would go out at night, but perhaps we're all a little unhinged...."
He looks at you all sternly.
"Prophecies are powerful things, if one led you here, then you have most likely found what you were tasked to find. Here you will find a welcome home, wine to fill your goblets, and warm hand to console you."
"How was this planar travel managed? I only....It's the mists, isn't it? That is what brought me into this realm."
Victor nods at Casdin's statement, "T'was the same for me".
"We had to cross the mists as well to get here." Sheva responds to Casdin and Victor.
"But we were in a tavern when somebody at the behest of Strahd hired us to come to Barovia. So that means that either some can cross the mists to leave, or Strahd has agents on the outside and a way of communicating with them."
"Thank you for your generosity, Davian. I think I could use some more wine now." she adds with a grave look on her face as she realizes the scale of the current predicament.
The only folks that can traverse the mists normally are the Vistani, the roguish travelers. Sounds like some of you were led here specifically. I have heard tale of Strahd luring adventurers into his domain, perhaps to stave the boredom or something."
Stefani is by Sheva's side in afew seconds, pouring a generous amount of wine into her glass.
"As much as you need Miss."
Davian continues.
"As for the mist itself, that is a mystery. Barovia was not always a seperate plane of existence, and perhaps its ties to the material plane allow for 'slips' to occur for the unfortunate."
Adrian, the eldest son, rapt his knuckles against door to the kitchen. In his hands, is a steaming pile of steaks.
"They've been aged well. I hope you like wolf."
Dinner is served, with the full intent that you all will stay to eat, rest, and perhaps ask more questions should that interest you.
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"Oy!" Galador quips as Sheva's mug is filled to the brim. "Do let thy gaze misstep over other heroes who played a part only slightly less critical than the lovely warlock," he says with a smile while holding out his own empty cup, glad to have anything down his throat that is not water or the ever-present but bland wine form the magical beaker.
"Wolf! I admit I've never had the pleasure, but as I am hungry as one I hope the flavor to be amplified by the resonance!" the warmaster chirps as he tucks into the full-flavored stuck with sharp knife and willing fork.
"Mmmmfph," he says around full mouth, "I've had places filled with worse company and worse wine, with naught to eat but my own tongue. This place may be a hell dimension with a sadistic, all-powerful ruler...but I canst not say 'tis the worse day I've ever spent, nor the worst night I've ever slept.
I'm sure salvation will come. It always does," and he returns to eating with earnestness.
"I've nearly been a wolf's dinner more times than I care to recount, so I suppose this is only fair." Sheva says as she helps herself to a steak.
"So Strahd might have a plan for us, perhaps to serve as his entertainment. I'm more than happy to make him regret that in time."
She takes a bit of the wolf steak and pauses after chewing and swallowing.
"Well, that's certainly ... unique. I can't quite place it." she says, keeping a straight face and glad she's hungry enough not to be finicky.
"We thank you again for your generosity."
"I suppose we should discuss where we head next, since it appears we'll be staying in Barovia for a while."
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"Next? Mmmf, the innkeeper, this man's son, said there would be payment to keep his wine flowing and fresh. We've done our part, so we should see payment. He mentioned looking at his armory--I'm skeptical that we'll find much of note, but if we scrape up enough to turn around and sell the spare iron to a merchant to fill our purses with coin, then that is good too.
I think the innkeep mention more tasks to keep us busy, but, 'tis been so long, I fail to recall exact."
Casdin does not comment as he eats, but he does pull out a small book and begin making quick notes between bites. He politely declines the wine.
Victor eats the meal as well hungry from the exertion and listens to the talk bandied back and forth, "We need to retrieve whatever weapon will harm this foe. That should be our main task. We should retrieve it before he knows that we seek it else it may be the last thing we do." His countenance is grim and his lips do not hold the loose smile that generally adorns them.
"Most mundane weapons will be worthless against him. I suggest finding some magic to aid you. My father is old, but he is the leader of the family, I doubt he would offer something that would not impress you."