Mirror, Mirror: The Further Adventures

Game Master Terquem

Waiting for Olivia to magic both himself and the rest of the group to, er, the village, Ballar watches the cat/elephant struggling to be put down. Fas'eh'nate'n.
Intuition: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29 (Do vampires fear these creatures or is it the other way around?)

As Ballar bends down to examine the small blue magical creature, it notices his movement and reacts in a startled trumpet of its trunk and dashes to stand behind Bud, who keeps his eyes up, never acknowledging the event in any way.

The Mirror is tuned and the portal opened. The heroes of D’Orbna soon find themselves in a long, dimly lit room.

It has all the trappings of a lodge, or dormitory. The walls are made from brick and wood. There are four shuttered windows along the wall on the left, and on the right a single shut door. There are six beds, generous in size, along the wall on the right, below the widows, and on a table beside each bed is a lit oil lantern with a fluted glass to protect the wick from wind. In the center of the room is a long, narrow, table set with plates, bowls, cups, and cutlery, but there is no food. A single large, basketed ceramic jug, and six mugs sit at the far end of the table suggesting at least something to drink is available.

The light from the lanterns gives a warm yellow glow to the otherwise empty room. The smell of fresh air comes from the closed, but not sealed, windows. The room seems to have no source of heat, no stove or fireplace, and it is a little chilly.

Bud's eyes dart down quickly to the ceru and the looks around the room like he never saw the tiny beast. He walks over to the jug and examines the contents, giving it a good sniff. "Wonder if this is worth drinking?"

Wha'n blazes!! Ballar's lightning reflexes kick in allowing the dwarf to draw his war axe in a heartbeat. The silver blade shines in the lamp light as Ballar scans the room for stuff.
D'u say drink? Ballar lowers his axe to investigate the ceramic jug. Leaning in Bud's direction Ballar comments, Tha Olivia's a fast one. Ah didn't even see 'er wave a wand and BLAM! 'Ere we are. The dwarf peers around the room all suspicious like.
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Niversal appears on the other side wondering if he is wearing something Jon descript enough to fit in here and he looks around for anything of value... Or danger perc: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31

Of course, Bud doesn’t smell anything and when Ballar comes near, unable to still his curiosity, he also smells nothing, which is very unusual. Using the fine perception of his ears, Ballar tries to determine what the viscosity might be of the liquid, or any other clues. As bud puts the Jug back down, a clear drop bounces out of the jug and Ballar recoils in horror at the realization that it is merely water.

Niversal steps slowly into the long room taking in all around him. He can sense no danger, and can see nothing out of the ordinary, other than the closed shutters, the light of day shinning through the gaps in the frames suggesting the weather outside is not bleak, so why keep the room dark?

The three allies exchange looks of simple impatience, and stand there waiting.

Wat'r. The expression on Ballar's face upon making this discovery is one of disappointment. He wrinkles his nose to ward a foul smell invading the room and backs away from the table, Thas no way ta be gett'n a fav'rable re'view from me!
The dwarf stows his weapon and moves to open a few of the shutters while he waits for the rest of the group to make their assessments. He looks out of the window, trying to get some kind of barring. Perception: Do they have a pool? How's the view?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
Speaking over his shoulder to the others Ballar states, Some Room Service'll be nice. Where's tha new guy? Get'em ta ring tha mae-tra-di an bring up snacks an'a bottle. Ballar winks for Bud's benefit, Bett'r make it two, nay!

Bud shivers as the drop of water comes out and lands on the table, "That was close! Too close." He then opens the shutters and looks outside. While he is standing there the tiny elephant walks up to him and rubs on his leg. Bud tries his best to ignore the rub on his leg while checking out the outside.

When Bud and Ballar open the shuttered windows they are greeted by the bright sunshine coming from the southwestern sky and a cool breeze coming in from the lake that spreads out in front of them.

You are high up, on the third or forth floor of a large wooden building. Below the windows a lakeside town spreads out in every direction. Quaint and bustling with activity. The people are dressed for cool temperatures, wearing long pants and light wool coats or vests, and almost everyone wears a hat of one style or another. There are three to five blocks of buildings, it’s hard to tell exactly, between the place you are and the lakeside itself. Buildings are narrow and tall, with bright blue and red roofs of tile. The lake is not large, perhaps only a few square miles in size, roughly round, with a small island (with what looks to be some sort of castle or temple structure) off to the left. There are hills to the left of the lake, and more hills and eventually tall mountains to the right. Straight across from the view of the windows the hills on both sides come together in a long valley and a river, feeding the lake can be seen in that direction as well.

The air feels thin, as if you might already be at a high altitude. It is cool, clear, and there is almost no wind. The surface of the lake is like glass, even though you can see many small boats on the surface (nothing seems to be moving at any speed, if the boats are moving at all).

The town is busy, but not noisy. People below are moving about with purpose or standing in small groups talking quietly among themselves. Many people carry baskets, filled with produce, breads, or fresh caught fish.

Ahh! Ballar breaths deep enjoying the cool air. Good ta 'ave a view! The dwarf watches the people for a minute trying to determine if their actions are normal or somehow off. He can't decide.
Its been a while since he's interacted with 'normal'; a city full of undead doesn't exactly conform so the cleric lets his mind wonder.
Pointing casually towards the island and the castle off to the left Ballar asks, Do ya suppose tha's tha place? Castles bound ta 'ave vampires an such, right? Mind you, there's all tha wat'r. Ah forget, is it runn'n wat'r or stand'n wat'r tha vampires donna like? Ah'm guess'n we should start there.
Knowledge Religion: Do Vampires like standing or running water?: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

we need clothing that looks like theirs in order to fit in around here and do investigating. We will have to wait here til close to dark and I can take a few gems and exchange them for clothing and local coin so we don't stick out

Ballar looks quizzically at Niversal's assessment then, holding his arms out from his body, the dwarf inspects his own garb. Ballar's belted sand leather breeches, apricot shirt and amber vest look plain enough and he'd even go as far as to claim they compliment the dwarf's red flamed cloak. The sturdy boots he wears boast a high enough polish to shimmer with shades of red and burning orange in the sunlight which spills into the room. Ballar's clothes certainly flatter the flaming red beard covering most of his face and with a frown and he can see nothing out of the ordinary with his attire, We've got clothes lad, no need ta go shop'n. 'Sides 'tisn't a very large town. Ah 'xpect tha locals'll spot us well 'nough.

Keryth stepped through the portal before standing silently observing the others as they explored the room.

Waiting for a moment to interject, Keryth clears his throat before stating, I have come into a letter which may interest some of you. I am still digesting its contents but feel it prudent to share.

He then pulls the letter and offers it to the group.

Ballar looks at the letter offered by the new guy. All the carefully scripted writing and looping letters make it hard for the dwarf to focus, upon much less understand and he gives the new guy a quizzical look, Well, tha's all fine an' good. Ba wha does it mean? Ballar looks around at the rest feeling genuinely lost, but that is nothing new. An did ya get a'old o'room service? Du'know tha's noth'n ta drink 'ere lad?!

Bud reads the letter and then shrugs. "I don't like this bit about the boss being kidnapped but, it's best we do our job like she wants. The shadowfolk mean nothing to me but if these goblins are as powerful as the letter says, it might be best to not attract their attention. Are we ready to start our mission?"

Ah was hop'n fa room service, but Bud's right. Mission first, drink'n lat'r. Ballar secures his war axe and cinches his belt. With a nod to the others he moves to the door then pauses realizing he has no idea where to go, Umm, we're gonn'n ta tha island? Or is ta tha pub fa infa-mation? The dwarf gives a corruptible smile at this.

Looking down upon the people of this community you can begin to see that among what you can identify as the “locals” (farmers, merchants, and other town folk) there can be seen unusually dressed people whose garb is similar to, but not exactly like the others. You have a pretty good sense that these others appear to be dressed for colder weather, or are dressed in more expensive attire and travel in small groups hinting at the possibility that they are travelers here, in a more normal sort of way.

There are folks dressed in hunting attire, as well as men and women with small pack animals who appear dressed as prospectors, surveyors, or explorers of the land.

All in all the variety of attire is just different enough that you are certain you will blend in.

When the letter of Keryth’s has been examined, taking note of at least one potential conflict in the area, it is clear that the island, and the temple on it, play some, probably small but important role, in the situation regarding the count and his mountain fortress, but for now it is probably safe to follow Keryth’s lead and play it close to the chest, keep a low profile, and stay focused on getting to the mountain castle and rescuing Jaquelyn.

The windows of this room have a spectacular view of the small alpine lake to the west, and by leaning out a little and looking north, across the town where the dwellings get larger and there are fields of ordered crops being grown, you can see the mountains, a long line of them stretching from as far as the eye can see to the west, to the east and probably beyond, though the building you are in blocks your view that direction.

Of the mountain range you can identify one particularly tall peak, and what seems to be a road winding up through the valley below the mountains to eventually disappear from view in the shrouded misty mountain side below the peak, which is high above even the scattered clouds to the north.

If we keep to ourselves and make straight for the stronghold, I don't think we should expect any trouble from the locals.

Eyeing the mountain road disappearing into the clouds, he fingers the fabric of his newly acquired clothing. I hope this is warm enough, he mutters to himself.

Observing the new guy pondering the R value of his attire, Ballar frowns. The mountains are known to be cold, everyone knows that. And it would seem, based on the location of the castle, that the group will be eventually traveling up that winding road. Tha new guy may be smart'r than'ee looks. Without thinking the dwarf lays his hands upon his own clothing, imitating the masked guy so as to feel the texture of his own the finely woven fabrics. Ballar traces the intricate stitching and feels the weight of it each piece while smiling inwardly at how good he must look.
For a brief instant, Ballar begins to reconsider Niver's clothing proposal, then coming to a conclusion raises a finger as if pointing out the obvious, Tha jus leaves room service. Get one o'those lads ta come up 'ere, with a prop'r bottle o'wine mind you, Ah'm Ah right? Ballar looks to Bud for confirmation, an a few o'them cloaks ta boot. Give tha lad a few o'Nivers coins, pop'em on, done! Off we go ta Jaquelyne.

Niversal nods and says fine I will buy a few local cloaks from a stall on the way and we can put those on and continue down the road

Ballar does a double take at Niversal showing sincere confusion then a little suspicion with the elf's statement. Leaning over to Bud the dwarf quietly asks, When did Niver'sl star'work'n 'ere? Thas could work ta our benefit if 'ees got tha keys ta tha wine cell'r, neh? With a "in the know" wink Ballar turns back to Niversal, Leed on then lad, yah ob've'ously know tha place. 'Course a wee stop at tha cellar wouldn't hurt. Some o'us are low on spell components an such an we all know how Cayden likes a splash or two ta speed his will. Ballar straightens out his brilliantly red cloak and prepares to leave the room.
Hopefully someone with more wit than Ballar will secure the room key and lock the door. We may need this room in the future.

Bud looks at Ballar and says "He doesn't work here, he's just getting things done quickly so we can get on the road. We need to get busy working here."

Keryth nods in agreement with Bud's last statement.

Ballar shrugs and falls in step with the others. 1:54

Someone leaves the room and heads through the large inn looking for a person to help the group get “underway.”

A bottle of strong brandy, make that two, one for now and one for the road, is procured, along with lined cloaks, in dark green and grey are delivered to the inn upon request.

Before the sun is at its highest point in the sky, the four of them, Ballar, Niversal, Bud, and a stranger who seems to resemble Keryth in many ways, are leaving the village at the lake shore and marching quickly up the road to the north.

They have calculated that they will not reach the castle today, but have taken the time to learn that many small inns can be found at very small hamlets along the way. These little inns offer no more than one or two large rooms to rent by the night, and no questions are asked. The travel along the road is not lonely, but it is not as if it is a trade route. Occasionally a small family, keeping quietly to themselves, or a pair of rugged “outdoor” types are met along the way. Conversations are never more than, “Good luck, hope it doesn’t rain.”

They have money, a good amount of coins in various denomination, provided by the innkeeper back at the lakeshore. They pay a small man five coins, they look like a gold coin of pure content, for food and lodging for the night. It is cool, here a little ways from the lake and slightly higher in elevation, but not yet cold. The next morning, under another bright blue sky free of clouds, the group sets out again. Now the outline, or form of a few tall towers can be seen, further to the north, and higher up the mountain.

You walk for half a day, and make nine miles, which is something, and come, at last, to something that tells you the way you are going is correct. A sign at a fork in the road, one side says “Ilurtuvah- 18 miles” and points to the right, where the road levels a bit and heads almost a bit downward into a long valley, with sparse, but large healthy trees, the other sign, pointing to the left, toward a steep, narrow, path, not more than a goat trail, reads, “Castle Von Zarovich – 4 miles.”

The way to the left is clear, for as far as you can see, but as you try to follow the trail, switching back and forth as it climbs up the mountain side, you see that eventually it enters a low hanging dark and mysterious fog, or low hanging cloud. Higher, above this mysterious fog, you see the castle, a large structure of tall buildings with high peaked roofs, and many slender towers stretching up into the sky like dark fingers of black bone.

You are confident that if you keep going, you can reach the castle well before sunset.

The castle sits on a projection from the mountainside, alone, dark, and quiet.

Ballar yawns and pats the bottle of sweet brandy in his pocket re assuredly. Trudging up to the signpost he says, Les'see, 4 miles or 18. The dwarf gives the group a conspicuous look and thumbs to the left, Ah di'not sign up fa'no marathon. We go left, neh? Less one'o'us needs ta go shop'n again. Ballar eyes the elf.

Bud looks at this carefully ignoring the little creature rubbing up against his leg. He points toward the castle and says "Looks like we need to go up that way. Who's going to take the lead?"

Keryth doesn't hesitate and marches past the signpost in the direction of the castle.

Noticing the new guy take the initiative, Ballar nudges Bud, Hmph, new guy's inna rush. Ah'm beginn'n ta suspect he knows something Bud.
Ballar peers after the elf, his dwarven eyes focused on the dark blue cloak ahead, wondering if Olivia had mentioned anything about sending extra security personnel along to ensure the success of the mission.
Intuition - Is the new guy walking into the jaws of death?: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19
Unable to recall, the dwarf decides the cloak is precisely the color is says it is. With the new guy well in the lead, Ballar's feet do their "float like a butterfly" thing and springs Ballar forward in order to catch up.

(Actives Agile Feet for 1 round to test his connection with Cayden)

The blue clad stranger strides past Bud and Ballar, following the trail that leads toward the castle on the peak in the distance.

After a moment, the others decide to follow.

A shiver runs up Ballar’s spine. With a simple gesture he calls upon a bit of divine magic and feels his feet become energized, lively, and sure.

The path travels west, for a long while, then cuts back on itself and becomes steeper, going east and up at a good grade that puts a bit of stress on the legs. After a while the path curves to the north and enters a narrow gorge. Broken, natural rock walls rise up on each side of you and here the path is only fifteen feet wide, at its widest point. The path curves gradually, left and right, over and over again, as if maybe there was once a strong flowing course of water here that cut its way down the mountainside.

The sky is overcast, but you can see well ahead of you, up to where the trail curves, usually no more than fifty to sixty feet at a time, and you can see up to the tops of the rocks on either side of you eighty feet above.

It is quiet, and occasionally a few scattered pebbles rain down from above. When you look to try to see what may have caused this disturbance you can get a brief glimpse of a small rock chuck, which seems to be following you, but keeping out of sight.

You enter a clearing forty feet wide, bare earth, with lose shale here and there, and eighty feet long. It seems like a good place to pause, and take a good look around.

each of you that wants to do so, please make a perception skill check

Is the DM just messing with you?: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Keryth scans the area...
perception: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (17) + 17 = 34
...with his keen eyes.

Ballar isn't what you would call, in Olympian shape. The long walk up has him panting and a bit red in the face. The sight of a clearing is a welcome one. The dwarf immediately looks for a bench to sit on, or one of those wooden signs that has an arrow pointing off to some mountain peak with touristy information carved into it, "Blodsjö 25 miles, Elevation 9,000 feet. Warning, stay away from cliff edge."
Perception: Anyplace to sit?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

Ah... say... we... rest... 'ere... a....Wee bit.

Bud follows Ballar up the trail pausing to look for the ceru every so often and sure enough it is right behind him. When the come to the clearing Bud looks around and says "I think you are right Ballar. This is a good place to rest. What ya got to drink?"

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Perception Horton: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22

Ballar's eyebrow raises. The dwarf knows full well Bud's not just asking an innocent question; there is serious drinking behind it. With no way of telling when the groups supplies will be stocked up next, Ballar somehow musters up enough wisdom to know that now is not the time to be splurging. He therefore proceeds to pat down his vest and cloak pockets as to search for something appropriate. Err, well less see. The dwarf's hand passes over the prized bottle of brandy tucked neatly into one of his larger pockets. Silently swearing to keep this as his emergency stock, Ballar's hand moves on reasoning, Bud would not enjoy 'those' spirits anyways. The Arcanist is, after all, very much an ale man. Might 'ave a bottle o'vino 'ere. Ballar regards Bud's reaction, Ya know, from tha cellar with tha mirror. Ballar looks over his items once more then suddenly remembers, Aaa! He reaches into his satchel containing the bag of holding and produces a bottle of what looks to be a fine vintage along with a bag of nachos - zesty cheese flavored. The familiar sound of munching soon ensues...

Keryth wastes no time warning his comrades of the danger. Manticores! Two on the right sixty feet up, one on the left eighty feet up, he exclaims while gesturing at the two locations as he speaks.

Addressing the larger and older looking of the three beasts Keryth calls out another warning, You will find no easy prey here today! Take your offspring and begone, or see your progeny die!

Is it just the three of us players?

The instant the new guy reveals the presence of the Manticores, the fine vintage wine bottle and nachos disappears back into Ballar's satchel with a muffled corn chip crunch. The dwarf casts Bud the 'another time' look and stands readying his waraxe.

Looks that way.

Bud looks disappointed for a moment and then looks to where the manticores are. Manticores? Manticore.... I know I know something about them.

Kn: Arcana: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27

Oi Bud, why's tha new guy's talk'n ta them? Won't tha make'm come an attack?

As Keryth gives a warning, Bud and Ballar are brought back to the moment and snack time is abruptly cancelled. When Keryth addresses the beasts Bud begins to remember just about everything you would want to know about the strange monsters known as manticores.

They are not tremendosly bright, but they can be cunning, vicious, and cruel. They are known to be determined hunters and will devour any prey they think they can take down. These creatures can fly, in a rough fashion, not as agile as a dragon, and can launch a volley of missiles from their tails while in the air.

Certainly the party outmatches these beasts, but a waste of resources now is not to anyone’s liking.

”Argraum,” the larger manticore roars. It is a language all of you know, the language of the underdark, and the beasts accent is the only indication that this world is not the world you call home. Argraum means, understood, but in a way that means a challenge is accepted. The beast comes to the edge of the cliff where it is perched and speaks again. spoken in the common underdark language that you all know, translated to standard common

You address me in the tongue of the dark walkers. Do you think that impresses me? It does not. I see four travelers on the path to the cursed one’s castle. Not all armed for war, but garbed in the attire of those who practice arts of the magic users. Yes, I see you think you mean to bring me death, and I mean to teach my cubs how to hunt, this you are smart enough to gather so I will offer you a bet. My cubs will attack you with intent to kill, and if you are wounded you will pay me in gold or jewels equal to my displeasure at being denied a meal, but if you are not injured and wound them I will call them off, sparing me the trouble of killing you myself, and for your trouble I will offer information that I have that may be of use to you, and a reward in treasures. Let us say the amount is a thousand pieces of gold payed to the winner, and if you win, I will answer any questions you have that I know something about, and if you are the losers, in addition to the gold, you tell me why the vampire deserves to be angered by your visit?

Wha?! Ya think ya wee kiddies can take us? Ballar puffs up his chest and does his best poacher gangster pose.
Intimidate: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Do ya think he's buy'n it?

Niversal steps out of the shadows having been following along quietly and says just like you lot to find this sort of trouble, but we can use any information we can get

Bud looks perturbed, or as perturbed as one can when half you face isn't there. He looks up at the manticore and then back to Ballar. "I hate to go to all the trouble but should I just kill it to scare off the little ones so we can be on our way?"

Ah like ya think'n Bud, 'old tha thought a bet...
The dwarf lifts his voice so as to be heard by the Manticore beasties, Oi! Wee Beastie, how do we know ya've got anything o'value ta off'r, infor'mation wise? We already know a'fair bit oth'rwise why both com'n all tha way up 'ere? Perhaps ya shuld give us a nugget or two? Jus ta prove ya've got someth'n original.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

You are certainly an odd lot. Do you all normally talk at one another without replying? Bah, how would I know if what I can tell you is of use to you, or if my cubs are a match for you. I know this, it is uncommon for any weaklings to test the Vampire Lord's castle, so if that is where you are going, you must consider yourselves strong, or at least resourceful. I tire of this be on your way. Come, cubs, to the sky. We will hunt further down the mountain side.

The manticore rambles in his peculiar way, grumbling between each thing he says, before taking to the air. His cubs launch themselves skyward and follow him as he disappears to the east, away from you.

You can continue on toward the castle, or stop here for a brief rest

*shrugs* Big Chicken.
The sound of crunching nachos resumes and the dwarf turns to Bud, Can ya really kill'm, like tha? Ballar snaps his fingers to underscore the obvious.

Turning around to speak with the elven wizard, An ya're vary direct lad. Ah'll give ya an 'A' fa afficiency. Ballar shoots Keryth a commending wink and offers up some nachos. Thay teech ya tha in th'academy?

Ballar can eat and talk at the same time so if the group wants to carry on just pipe up. Otherwise I think a quick 5 minute break will be fine.

Bud shrugs "Probably not right now. Need a lightning bolt or fire ball for that, but he didn't know that. Let's get going. We gotta job to do."

well, that was anticlimactic and rather disappointing, but our normal way of it got us through again Niversal says with a shrug

Stuffing the bag of nachos back into his cloak, Ballar wipes his head and trudges off up the path. Right ya are Nivers.
Cours thar's a chance tha beasties jus aren't hungry fa elf-types, decid'd ta jus leave ya alone ta save they're bellies from ache'n. Ballar gives a quick wink before turning to Bud, Shame 'bout those spells Bud, Ah could rally go fa some chicken 'bout now. Do ya know, Ah know a grreat curry re-sap-ay?

The group continues forward to the castle either until they get there or until night falls.

Seems strange that with everyone self isolating there haven't been a lot more posts.

Bud shrugs "Let's go see this vampire about a lich's friend."