To Vasilios, before they reach the encampment, "I don't know what you saw, but it's likely just the vampire messing with your head. He does that, trust me."
"Also, I hope I didn't leave too many bumps earlier. I REALLY wasn't myself." she continues apologetically.
Later on, she walks up to the people at the encampment and stops to admire the music and singing.
"Hello. That's quite lovely. May we join you for a bit?"
-Well, I would like to mess with his head, literally...
There about twelve or so Vistani milling around the campsite area. The ash and embers of the firepit are plain to see, meaning they've probably been here for a while. They have all seem to hit the bottle pretty hard already, seeming to be pleasantly drunk.
They seem friendly enough, waving your party over as they see you approach.
"Come round friends," a Vistani woman beckons, her voluminous ebony hair bouncing as she tilts her head forward, a friendly but mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"You're just in time for a story. It was Domi's turn, yes?" she asks the male Vistani sitting beside her. He is not wearing a shirt, preferring to show off his muscle-cut chest.
"How... delightful!"
"Might we get a drink as well, if you'd be so kind?"
She whispers over to Galador, "Careful, you might have some competition there."
She puts on a playful attitude to cover her distress over the most recent events. The drink will be most welcome.
Those who wish to make themselves comfortable by the used firepit do so, and a Vistani known as Domi begins his tale.
"A mighty wizard came to this land over a year ago. I remember him like it was yesterday He stood exactly where you're standing. A very charismatic man, he was. He thought he could rally the people of Barovia against the devil Strahd. He stirred them with thoughts of revolt and bore them to the castle en masse.
When the vampire appeared, the wizard's peasant army fled in terror. A few stood their ground and were never seen again.
The wizard and the vampire cast spells at each other. Their battle flew from the courtyards of Ravenloft to a precipice overlooking the falls. I saw the battle with my own eyes. Thunder shook the mountainside, and great rocks tumbled down upon the wizard, yet by his magic he survived. Lighting from the heavens struck the wizard and again he stood his ground. But when the devil Strahd fell upon him, the wizard's magic couldn't' save him. I saw him thrown a thousand feet to his death. I climbed down to the river to search for the wizard's body, to see if, you know, he had anything of value, but the River Ivlis had already spirited him away."
There's some silence after the Vistani finishes his tale, the other listeners enjoying the pleasant way he speaks
The female Vistani calls to you, "I'm not sure how hurried your pace, but you should visit with Madam Eva. She could use the company, and her skill with the harrow is legendary."
Sheva feels her blood boil at the mere mention of the vampire's name, but she listens intently to the story.
She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.
"Where do we find Madam Eva?"
When told about madame Eva, Vasilios turns to his comrades and asks silently "Shall we go?"
"Probably some kind of fortune-telling cards?" Sheva speculates.
"I'm intrigued now. Skeptical, but intrigued. I'm also tired and still want to kill things, so the distraction would be nice." she says with a hint of a smile.
You all are led to a small private tent and ushered inside. Magic flames cast a reddish glow over the interior of this tent, revealing a low table covered in a black velvet cloth. Glints of light seem to flash from a crystal ball on the table as a hunched figure peers into its depths. As the crone speaks, her voice crackles like dry weeds.
"At last you have arrived!."
Cackling laughter bursts like mad lighting from her withered lips.
She looks and speaks to each of you in turn.
"Little Sheva, locked away, will the demon go.....or will it stay?"
"Run, run, run Galador. People slain forevermore."
"Vasillios so young and fleeting. Your cousin lay still, cold, not breathing."
"Razz the rabble, trouble made full. How long until his trouble kills you all?"
She smiles and offers you all to take a seat for a harrow reading.
For a moment, Vasilios eyes shine and his face seems to contract in anger.
-My cousin...
It takes all of his autocontrol to relax, think about where he is and recover his good sense.
-I... how do you know this?
They're playing a dangerous game, and the poor people of Barovia don't deserve to pay for the ante. This woman better walk with caution...
|
Galador gives the lady a small and a tight smile. "Um, yep. When I kill people they stay dead.
Ah, you wouldn't have anything to drink, would you? We've had a hell of a day and we'll be more receptive to a strange woman playing with our hallow if we've had a chance to wet our whistle, yeah?"
Galador looks around for a place to sit, but, finding none, just stands awkwardly.
Sheva is taken aback by the crone's knowledge of everyone, but plays it off.
She takes a seat, returning the smile a bit uneasily.
"Very well, you know a thing or two about us. Simple magics. Let's see what the future holds for us then, shall we?"
The old woman smiles an snaps her fingers. She begins to rummage in her bag as a wooden cup of water floats over to Galador.
She smiles, and pulls out an old and withered deck of Harrow cards.
She does not answer any of your questions, but instead begins the harrow. The cards weave in her hands and seem to dance on the small clothe covered table. You can smell incense in the air, and the mugginess makes it hard breathe. The only light, the lamp hanging from a post to the side.
She reveals the first card.....The Trader.
"This card tells of history. Knowledge of th ancient will help you better understand the enemy. Look to the wizard of wines! In wood and sand, the treasure hides."
She reveals the second card.....The Conjurer.
"This card tells of a powerful force for good and protection, a holy symbol of great hope. I see a dead village, drowned by a river, ruled by one who has brought great evil into the world.."
She reveals the third card....The Philanthropist.
"This is a card of power and strength. It tells of a weapon of vengeance: a sword of sunlight. Look to a place where sickness and madness are bred. Where children once cried, the treasure lies still.."
She reveals the fourth card....The Artifact.
"This card sheds light on one who will help you greatly in the battle against darkness. Look for an entertaining man with a monkey. This man is more than he seems."
She finally reveals....the final card....The Ghost.
"Your enemy is a creature of darkness, whose powers are beyond mortality. This card will lead you to him! Look to the father's tomb."
She lets her lat words hang, then sweeps up her cards, shuffles them, and sets them back on the table in silence.
"Unless you defeat Strahd, here in Barovia you, and your soul will remain forevermore."
|
|
Galador perks up as the cup floats over to him, and takes a small, tentative sip, expecting vodka.
His face deflates at the taste of water and he perterbly holds the forgotten cup.
He nods along as the cards come out...but it's clear his martial mind was expecting something more concrete. At the hints and allegations common to far-telling, he...really has little reaction.
He holds his tongue. Expecting the roistering common to gypsies, he's mildly crestfallen at the darn-near sober tone of this camp.
His right hand starts to unconsciously clench and unclench, looking for a sword and something to swing it at.
Vasilios calms himself while the lady talks, and tries to pay attention. He knows quite well the people who tell the future, for they are relatively common in his homeland, and is aware that they always talk in riddles.
-Too frequently the fools forget about the advice given until it's too late.
Impressed by the seer's capacity and decided not to miss the chance, he carefully memorises the predictions until he has a chance to note them down.
Seeing no questions, she beckons you all to leave.
Back outside, Ireena and Ismark find you all.
"You guys alright?" Ismark asks, concern on his face. "You look like you've been given a death sentence."
Sheva makes careful mental note of the readings, particularly the final one.
When the group leaves, she replies to Ismark's comment,
"We have some leads on how to defeat the vampire. Given his power it may as well be a death sentence."
She turns back to the others,
"Once we complete our current quest, we're going to have to decide where to begin. It sounds like all hope isn't lost yet."
"I think for starters another drink would be good right now."
|
|
Galador nods, "Well if you can find aught of beverage, let me know. You'd think they had prohibition against booze AND happiness in this forsaken land.
Still, I concur that though we have more direction than none, 'tis still nothing good as yet.
Well, should we camp here for the now, or continue on? I care not either way."
"It looks like here is as good as any place T̵O̷ ̸҉҉RI̴P͢ ̸̴O͟U͢T̛ ͜A͢͡N̸͜͞D ̴C̛O҉͝N̨S̛̀̕U̧̕͞ME҉̸̸ ̵͢͝T̕H̷͢͠E͡ ̢͠H҉E̡͟͡A͝R̴T̢̕S̡ ̧͠OF̕ ̵͏TH̨̢͟E͏̸̡ ͜I̷N̡҉̡N̨͟͠ƠCE͟N҉T͢."
Sheva pauses for a moment, then looks around sheepishly.
"I was wondering where she'd gotten to. Kinda hoped the vampire had scared her off."
Ismark takes a look around.
"You know, we've just had a harrowing encounter with the master of this land, and this is the first piece of serenity and leisure I've seen in a while. Let's rest for the day so we can steel our soul for the task ahead."
Ismark and Ireena ready the camp, a bit aways from the much larger Vistani camp, and also leave you all to your own devices.
Sheva wanders for a bit into the nearby woods, still reflecting on recent events.
As she walks, she sees a woman standing in the shadows beneath a cluster of trees, holding her lantern, which she now notices is not tied to her pack.
"Oh. It's you." she addresses the woman, who is clouded in swirls of shadows.
"He̸llo͠ c̛h̀ild. Yo̕u͝'̷ve͟ ͝done w̵ell̀ ̸t̀h́us͘ f͢a̶r, ̴though y͜o̵u ̀s͞t̛umbled ̀aga͜i͢nst̵ th̛e̢ ͡vampi̧rè." the woman replies.
"Yeàrs a̷g̴o, w҉e ́m͢ad̀e͞ ̕a̶ pact,҉ y͟o̵u̸ ͞and ҉I.̸ ̨I͢ pròm̕ised ̶you ͟po͏wèr̶ ̷if͞ you͟ ̀g͢av́e ͏us fre͡ed̴o̴m.̸"
"I ha͞ve͘ som͡e ̶m͡or̕e̴ ̀po͝we͞r ̴fór͜ y̛ou.̴ No҉t҉ m̶ùc͏h ye͠t̢,͝ b͠ut͘ ̨in t͢i͟m̡e̵ y̶ou ͠wi̧l̷l gro̢w st̢rong e͞nơu͠g͘h ̧t͝o de̛str̕o̴y ҉t̕h̕e va͜mp̴ire. And ͡b̸e ̶clǫser to ̵me̵."
Sheva closes her eyes and feels an ecstatic surge of power course through her body. Her magic changes, and becomes stronger. She feels more confident and forceful.
When she opens her eyes, the woman is right in front of her, leans in, and gives Sheva a gentle kiss on the lips.
"Ţh̢i͞s̸ is ̶jus̛t ̸a tas͜t̡e,͞ my c͠hi̶ld́. In͠ ti͢m͘e you'll̀ ̶fu͠lĺy em͠b͏rac͘e͜ me, ąn̸d ͠kn̶ow the͜ ͝true͝ po̕w̴er̀ I̴ ̢h͘av͟e t͏o͟ o҉ff̨er̴."
She walks away, back into the woods.
"W͝e͠'ĺl ̢t̸a̸l̢k͡ ̶ag̴ai̛n s͡oǫn͡, ͘my͢ c͞hi̧ļd. Be ̀str͜ońg̷."
The woman disappears into the darkness. Sheva is now holding the lantern in her hand.
"In time I'll destroy him. And free myself of you." she mutters after the woman has vanished.
She walks back towards the camp and her companions.
You spend the remainder of the day trying to calm yourselves and prepare for the possible horrors to come. With such pleasant company and the calmness of the small lake, you find an odd tranquility to the situation.
The next morning you follow the river to the base of a canyon, at the far end of which a great waterfall spills into a pool, billowing forth clouds of cold mist. A great stone bridge spans the canyon nearly one thousand feet overhead.
Several hours pass and you arrive at a crossroads. Even here, in the mountains, the forest and the fog are inescapable. Ahead, the dirt road splits in two, widening toward the east. There you see patches of cobblestone, suggesting that the eastern branch was once an important thoroughfare.
You catch a whiff of pipe smoke in the cold air and hear laughter in the fogs. It isn't hard to see, but it seems your group is swiftly catching up with what appears to be a different group of Vistani, drinking rom wineskins and smoking pipes as the march through the wilderness. One spots your group, and gives you a friendly wave.
Sheva's curiosity is piqued.
"Hmmm... perhaps we could see what's going on. They at least have drinks and provisions."
They give you an uneasy feeling, but you don't see anything "evil" about them. Perhaps the most unsettling thing is there carefreeness in this land of horror.
-Ah, come on... what can go wrong?
With these words, Vasilios clearly dooms himself and his friends.
"That might as well be our battle cry, Vasilios." Sheva laughs.
As your group approaches the Vistani group, you can feel the jovialness in their steps and movements. It matches what you've seen from other Vistani, and you being to wonder how these people can be so relaxed in such an unforgiving land.
"Ho travelers!" one such Vistani calls out to you, a simple linen shirt with just the smallest flecks of spilled wine. His smile is broad as his frame is lanky, and he steps away from his group to approach yours.
"What brings you to travel these lonely roads today? Care for guide? We Vistani know the land well, and for a mere 100 gp, we would make sure you travels are scarce of danger."
In the fog, you can see that for your pace you are actually catching up to two figures in the distant. As with any vague shapes, you find yourselves tense slightly, and reach for your weapons.
However, that fear is dispersed as two men come into view, both laden with their own packs.
The slighter of the two men stands roughly 5'8" tall, with black hair and deep lavender eyes. He wears a holy symbol which appears to be an unrolled scroll, and as your group approaches, he puts his hand on his mace and says "If you are bandits, you should be aware that I am armed and have the ability to channel the power of Oghma. Attack me at....Oh, you are adventurers, aren't you?" After a moment, he will add "Assuming you aren't here to murder me, then I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Casdin Merle, and I am a priest in the service of Oghma, god of knowledge and magic. Do any of you know what nation I currently find myself in? I have been walking for several days and this fog has not let up once."
The second man, a human with what used to be a well kept beard steps through the mists standing an even 6' tall. The man holds a lantern before him and has two backpacks slung across his back. A chain shirt drapes just over his thigh with a shield strapped to his back.
"Finally! I've found someone else through this blasted mist. I was so close to Seaport I can't believe I walked past it and did not end up in the drink..."
Victor regards the sole man and the two groups near him. "Hmmm. I must be dreaming. A God I've never hear of with a bunch of characters dressed in fashions I've never seen".
He places his lantern on the ground and pinches himself on the arm eliciting a grimace of pain. "Owww, maybe I'm not dreaming...."
|
|
Galador stalked toward the band of Vistani with hope in his eyes and thirst in the throat, but as their first words to him are a soclicitation, his hope sours to a cousin of rage. He favors the vistani that spoke with an ill look. "Nay! We care NOT for a guide. We DO care for a friendly face and an honest sharing of stories around a fire as skins of drink pass hands. But if all you see of us are MARKS to be CONNED, then you may keep what lies and half-rumors you would pass of as truths after so princely sum as a hundred gold would be wheeled out of ignorant hands.
Gah! Do I look like a man who would beg for skirts to hide behind and a hundred-weight of gold to pass over for the privilege? Fie on thee I say! Fie!
Seek ye softer meat elsewhere and spare us evermore thy forked tongue."
Though the battle-heart burns red within him, as two other figures pierce the fog and greet his meager group with kinder words, the steam lifts from the BattleMaster somewhat and he manages a respectable tone.
He reaches out hand to shake the first, a priest, "Aye, salutations unto you, Casdin Merle, follower of Oghma. Nay, we have little knowledge or murder to offer a fellow traveler. I might hazard a guess where we -ought- to be, but I fear that name is as false as the pretenses that lured us here."
Galador then turns to the second of the pair. "And hale unto you, drinker of Seaport. I am Galador Imrael, Master of Battle. This is Vasillios, Crafter of the Art, and Sheva, Holder of That-Which-Is-Forbidden. We are seeking little, now, save perhaps an honest bottle and a crew to share it with.
Unless you count revenge as a goal. In which case, O, we have that in plenty."
"Revenge is a slippery slope. I've oft heard it said that when you seek revenge, you should dig two graves: one for the target of your vengeance and one for you; but tell me, who are you looking to fight to the bitter end?"
Turning to Sheva, Casdin will add "And what, if I might ask, are you holding that is forbidden?"
"Pleasure to meet you both." Sheva says.
She hoists her lantern with its ever-burning green flame, causing here eyes to glow slightly in its light.
"As for what I'm holding, you'll probably meet her soon enough."
"AN҉D̀̕ ̶҉T̢̀H̢̛E̴̕Ń̸ ̧͡I̴̢͞'L̷͡L ͠C̸ÓN͞͏͘Ś͠U̷͡M̡E ̛҉҉Y͢O͘Ų̷R̷͢͡ ͡S͘͘O͠ŲL͞S̨̡"
Sheva blushes and smiles sweetly.
"Oops."
-Oi! Some people who don't seem to be zombies, wolves or vampires! Good to see you both, name's Vasilios. You are now in Barovia, a nation we also don't know a dime about. How did you end here, if I may ask?
"I took a job in Cormyr, and I was headed back to my inn room after delivering proof to the local constable that farmer Brown was actually the person destroying his neighbor's crops, not the local druid, when a wave a fog washed over me. Given the speed, I knew it was likely not natural, and so I found a good defensive spot and waited. and waited. I eventually fell asleep and when I woke up the fog was still all around me. I started walking in the direction of the village I was staying in, and here we are."
"Sounds like the two of you were pulled into this place under even stranger circumstances than us. We were lured by a powerful vampire under the auspices of helping these fine folks." Sheva says, pointing to Ismark and Ireena.
She takes care to whisper about the vampire, wary about who might be listening.
"But in your cases, it sounds like perhaps the fog that surrounds these lands goes actively fishing for unsuspecting victims. All the more reason for us to remain resolute in our quest. Perhaps you might join us to help? None of us are safe so long as the threat of the vile creature we seek looms over us all."
"Oh, and speaking of vile creatures, don't mind 'her,' my other voice. She's mostly harmless to others and she's been with me a long time."
Victor blinks at the exchanges between the party and the other newcomer, "Aye. Passing through mist is how I came to be here as well! I thought it was fog from the shores of Seaport. I was joined with a mercenary band but the pay we received for the jobs we were doing just made little sense to me.
Well met all of you well met.
Gah, monsters eh? I agree strength in numbers and what not. Though instead of taking vengeance upon fearsome foes would it not be more profitable to just find a way out of here to greener and less mist filled pastures?"
Victor then turns to the group of Vistani and back to the party, "A strange dressed group, they with you all as well?"
"I have no problems working with adventurers anymore. I used to be an investigator in the guard in The City of Splendor, but politics being what they are I couldn't stay there." Casdin chuckles and adds "There was a time, however, when I really couldn't stand adventurers. Even when they were helping it oftentimes lead to more chaos then was really healthy for a town."
Turning to the Vistani, Casdin will say "Hello, didn't see you there."
The new comers are greeted with a warm smile and an open manner.
Hi, I'm Rascal but call me Raz. Its good to see some non Barovians around here. The locals are a dreary lot.
With introductions in good order, and the Vistani group deciding to stop ealry for the day, it seems your new hodge podge of a group walks alone once more. But its a rare treat to find such distinct souls in Barovia, and you all feel that your new companions will be good company to have.
Evetunally, you reach a crossroads. There is but a single signpost impaled into the earth. The way you came from the south is marked "Village of Barovia," the way east is marked "Castle Ravenloft," and the way west is marked "Vallaki."
There is nothing else of note here.
"I've never heard of any of these places. Does anyone know which way might be the right way? It appears that they have nobility here, so perhaps we should go and try to introduce ourselves? I know that the rulers of some areas frown on powerful or important people arriving unannounced."
"We've met the nobility around here, at least one of them. He's ... not pleasant." Sheva responds to Casdin.
She asks Ismark and Ireena, "East or West? Castle Ravenloft sounds ominous, so I'm curious to have a look, but what do you know about Vallaki?"
-Yeah, I don't think nobility here is too happy about us. And castles usually belong to nobility. I vote for Vallaki, whatever it is.
An entire Castle...
"So what was it that you did that got the Nobility up in arms my new friends?" Victor asks with a soft grin.
Sheva looks around quickly to make sure nobody else is around. She turns to Victor and addresses him with a slightly annoyed tone.
"The so-called 'nobility' is an extremely powerful vampire who has been terrorizing this land for centuries."
"He attacked us almost as soon as we arrived here just to show his might. All we were trying to do was help these good people here."
She gestures to Ireena and Ismark.
"I didn't mean to snap at you like that. Just that he ... he made it personal ... I ... don't want to discuss it any further right now."
"Vampires are a dangerous business. Ruling vampires doubly so."