Spectre's Curse of Strahd: IC

[Spectre]

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Under raging storm clouds, a lone figure stands silhouetted against the ancient walls of Castle Ravenloft. The vampire Count Strahd von Zarovich stares down a sheer cliff at the village below. A cold, bitter wind spins dead leaves about him, billowing his cape in the darkness.

Lightning splits the clouds overhead, casting stark white light across him. Strahd turns to the sky, revealing the angular muscles of his face and hands. He has a look of power—and of madness. His once handsome face is contorted by a tragedy darker than the night itself.

Rumbling thunder pounds the castle spires. The wind’s howling increases as Strahd turns his gaze back to the village. Far below, yet not beyond his ken, a party of adventurers has just entered his domain. Strahd’s face forms a twisted smile as his dark plan unfolds. He knew they were coming, and he knows why they have come—all according to his plan. He, the master of Ravenloft, will attend to them.

Another lightning flash rips through the darkness, its thunder echoing through the castle’s towers. But Strahd is gone. Only the howling of the wind—or perhaps a lone wolf—fills the midnight air. The master of Ravenloft is having guests for dinner.

And you are invited.



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To a party of seasoned adventurers such as yourselves, what you see is but another dull tavern in another dull town in some nameless province you’ll never find in a history book. It is but another span of time between the challenges of true adventuring. Outside the tavern, a fog lies over the town this evening. The damp, cobbled pavement glistens as the lights of street lanterns dance across the slick stones. The fog chills the bones and shivers the soul of anyone outside, yet inside these tavern walls the food is hearty, and the ale is warm and frothy. A fire blazes in the hearth, and the tavern is alive with the tumbling voices of country folk.

As you settle in, a woman wearing a stained apron approaches your table and pulls up a chair. Her round, freckled face seems at odds with muscular arms that bear scars. She introduces herself while rubbing her apron. Her voice is surprisingly low in tone and raspy. "Name's Fasha. Don't mean to be a bother, but times is slow, and I can't help but find meself glancin' yer way!" The barmaid flashes a lopsided grin. "You lot sure aren't from 'round the village, are ye? Can’t say ah recognize ye, and I never forget a pretty face." She leans forward in her chair before continuing. "So... Why don’t you tell me a little about yourselves, hm?”

Rain continues to beat down hard upon the roof, nearly drowning out the sound of the crackling fire.

"Oh right! And, uhh - what can I getcha?”

--

The barmaid's gaze lingers on Valeria for half a second or so too long. Interest? Or something more?



Handouts:

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[Xihirli]

Fisk seemed content to sit in quiet by the fire, but ordered specifically some water along with the more standard meal.
She didn't have to keep her hood up in this town... in fact she was happy not to. Her deck of cards was on the table beneath her wringing hands, ready to be shuffled around if literally anyone took her up on a game.
She wasn't too much of a fan of the barmaid drawing attention toward her, either. She wasn't wanted here, but she didn't like people remembering her face in general.
She looked pointedly at stupid sexy Valeria as if this was her fault for drawing the boisterous woman over.

SIGHT
[roll0]

[Lentrax]

The tiefling sits at the table, leaning her chair against the wall.

A guitar rests across her lap, currently unplayed, the inlays glittering in the firelight. She idly runs a finger along the edge of the soundhole until Fasha comes around, then she looks up, her silver eyes seeming to flow as they settle like water in a bucket. She smiles warmly at the barmaid.

My lady. My name is Valeria Tiemoest. I am, as you may have guessed from my instrument, a bard. For the low cost of some wine, some food, and a bed for the night, I would be more than happy to provide some entertainment for your guests. And, she says, her smile growing warmer, For you.

[Rilem]

Dell clapped his hands in encouragement. They’d been traveling together — how long had it been now? Doesn’t matter, I suppose — and he’d learned quickly that they all generally had better evenings when Valeria performed.

“It’s a good trade,” he ventured, and fished out a few coins. “I’ve no songs myself, only silver; a bit of brandy, please, to take the night’s chill off. It’s raw out.”

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl pushed open the door to the inn, pausing for a moment to wipe the wet from his face and just enjoy the warmth for a moment. The heat didn't completely remove the seemingly permanent scowl on his face, but it did soften it a tad. He glanced around, his gaze sweeping across the patrons and the room layout, his body posture that of someone always read for a fight. He finally noticed his companions at a table, talking to what appeared to be a server. Pushing aside his concerns, Jahl forced himself to visibly relax as he slowly walked over. However, he couldn't help constantly shifting his gaze to take in every table and booth he passed along the way.

Upon reaching the others, he nodded to them and pulled up a chair. "Horses are stabled," he muttered as he set his pack to the side and leaned his stick against the wall. Looking up to the server, he cleared his throat. "Are you taking orders? If so, I'll take water, ale ... and some of that stew I smelled. Thanks." He seemed oblivious to the conversation the table had been having, so he may come off as a little brash or abrupt.
OOC - just entering the scene ... [roll0] (don't have my sheet, so not sure what to add. Probably won't matter :smallbiggrin:)
https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/iyr18jJVDtRu5kbBKcWEVTv-AEy9yxphzr9u-
dSmBzxmI0zs7sO_5GR1Fd8HGD0Eb8XKmaiJjBJI8ks5ka9x2pT 0meBDHnkJXXHo-Gv5BEdqnHHChcsHztHG=w1200-h630-p-k-no-nu

[Spectre]

Dull Tavern

Fasha's round, freckled face pinches slightly around her nose as she flashes a second crooked grin towards Valeria. "Ah, so it's accommodations you're after, is it?" The barmaid crosses her arms over her chest and leans forward slightly. An unambiguously sly look is worn on her face. "Well, she whispers coyly, batting her eyes, "it just so 'appens that I've a bed in mind for ye, if you're still up and about by midnight, hm?" At that, she pulls away and rises to her feet once more. In a louder voice, Fasha explains further with a wink. "That's when me shift's over!"

Jahl's entrance prompts the barmaid into retrieving a small pocketbook from her apron. "Right, sorry dears, bit distracted!" she exclaims, sheepishly. "So, a brandy for the priest, an' an ale for the broad-shouldered fellow, an' the finest of wines for the bard!" The barmaid departs, then stops. She glances back over her shoulder to gesture towards an empty stage with a nod of her head. The curtains are threadbare and the acoustics aren't great, but it's hardly the worst.

Fasha disappears into the kitchen, carousing with other patrons as she makes her way there.

Outside, the storm worsens.

--

You hear in the distance the sonorous crack of a whip biting into wet flesh, followed by a tortured shriek, likely equine in nature. The noise is drowned out by the pounding of hooves on cobblestones as well as by heavy rainfall. The black stagecoach approaches.



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[Lentrax]

As Fasha departs from their table, Val flips the strap to her guitar over her head, missing her horns. Her fingers slide along the neck of the guitar, and then, as Valeria stands up from her chair, she is strumming the guitar. Her fingers dance along the strings, plucking them and sending chords of music into the air.

All of Val's party members know this is usually how she starts her performances. Quick jaunty notes to drown out the crowd and let everyone know that she was there. A minute of basically noise that sounded good, but wasn't a regular drinking song. But it got her from her table to what passes for a stage in wherever they happened to be.

And it usually worked.

Once on the stage, Val takes a moment to really take in the crowd. With a jilted smile, and a glint in her silver eyes, she bows to everyone. And then with no time to introduce herself, she starts playing a series of power chords.

Welcome to the Dungeon, they got traps ta spring.
We got all the treasure, honey, we took every ring.
We are the party that can kill your goblin horde.
If you got the silver, honey, we can clear your fort.

In the dungeon, welcome to the dungeon,
Watch us clear it from the t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-trees, trees!
Uh, wanna heal us when we bleed!

[Rilem]

“I’m n …” Dell begins, but she’s gone already. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the rain-spattered window and acknowledges the barmaid had a point; he was dressed rather soberly — black over black over black. He remembers dressing more colorfully in the past, but it didn’t seem to suit him lately.

He shrugs to shake off the mood as the music starts. As long as she gets the order right it hardly matters.

Rolled in ooc thread, he decidedly does not hear the carriage

[Xihirli]

Fisk smiled idly while watching Val perform, shuffling her deck absently while she tapped her foot along to the melody.
She gave a sympathetic shrug to Dell. "Probably just wishful thinking, you know. So she can marry Val on the spot."

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl watched the flirty waitress depart, frowning slightly. He rubbed his bleary eyes, muttering, "Better remember the stew ..." He leaned back in his chair, with a sigh, staring vacantly off as Valeria moved from the table and off into the crowd. He only vaguely registered the distinctive plucking of strings that led into several power chords. The road getting to this no-name village had been long, especially when one couldn't sleep. The dreams had come back, stronger than ever ... leaving him lethargic and tired for most of the day. The weather didn't help things, either, chilling him to the bone. Perhaps some time near the fire, after a hearty meal, would warm him up enough to get a good night's sleep.

Lost in his reverie, he only vaguely registered a line Valeria was screaming. "You know where you are? You're in the dungeon, baby! You're gonna die!" Die ... die ... diiieee .... diiiiiiieeeeee ...

The deformed hand reached out, a single clawed finger exposed as it traced down his exposed chest. As it traveled, the pressure increase until it broke the skin and left a trail of red on its path to his stomach. He stifled a groan, but not before the creature leaned in, its face still hidden in shadows, snuffling intensely. "Yesssss ... thaaat ... issss ... sssweeeet ..." Suddenly, it pushed into his abdomen, eliciting a muffled scream and chuckles from the dark surrounding him. "This is going to be fun ... are you ready? Ready for the pain? It is going to get messy ..."

With a start, Jahl stood up, his chair slamming back to the ground as he stood breathing heavily, his eyes red and intense. To those around him he had startled and disturbed, he stammered an apology, then turned back to the front. "Pardon me. I need to ... step outside." With that, Jahl stepped back through the doors.
OOC - Stepping outside for a few moments to clear his head, then returning after he gathers his composure.
Stats and skills will go here ...
AC HP 10 Init Move 40' Pass Per 11
Str + Dex + Con + Wis + Int + Cha +
Effects: None

[Spectre]

Dull Tavern

Valeria's performance fails to win over the hearts of country-folk huddled within these tavern walls, but the bard's natural charisma is enough to save her from a potential embarrassment. From the stage, the tiefling is afforded a rather good view of the tavern, as well as its windows. She spots a noble's black stagecoach stopped just outside. Lanterns hang from iron chains at its front, casting shadows that dance strangely upon the muddy cobblestone. Dark lace curtains bearing foreign designs shield any passengers from sight. The coach's driver is nowhere to be seen.

Desperate for a breath of fresh air, Jahl stumbles towards the tavern door. Before he can reach it, the door swings open from the outside! Framed by the lamp-lit fog, a tall figure strides through the doorway. An uneasy hush falls over the room. However, the stranger's heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins shatter the silence. His brightly colored clothes are draped in loose folds beneath a fine black overcoat slick with rain. A top hat hangs askew atop his head, hiding his face in shadows. Without hesitation, he retrieves a scroll from a satchel and presses it to the wall.

In a single violent motion, he draws a small knife from his belt and promptly skewers the scroll to the wall, pinning it there. The man clears his throat before calling out in a strangely accented voice, "I haff been sent to you by Burgomaster Kolyan Indirovich, a most remarkable man, to deliver a message of great import! Zhe village of Barovia is in need of adventurers! If you be creatures of honor, you vhill come to my master’s aid at first light!" His dark eyes pan the room before settling upon Marijohn. "You vhill take zhe Vhest Road from here some five hours march down through the Svalich Woods."

"Zhere you vhill find my master in Barovia, and you shall be generously revharded." Amid the silent stares of the patronage, the man strides up to the bar and says to the wary barkeep, "Fill zheir glasses, one and all. Zheir throats are obviously parched." He drops a purse heavy with gold on the bar. Without explaining further or waiting to be addressed, the man starts to depart. The babble of tavern voices resumes, although somewhat subdued. A few curious patrons shuffle towards the skewered scroll, but none seem eager to take the man up on his offer. The scroll bears an unusual crest.

--

Barovia is the regional name for an idyllic valley nestled in the Balinok Mountains, far from any civilized lands.



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[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl stepped back apprehensively as the figure burst in, his hand dropping to the hilt at his side. He stood, transfixed, as the figure walked in and 'requested' aid for his (?) master. The bizarre accent, odd dress, and the way the shadows clung to the man's face was more than a little disconcerting. Jahl waited only a moment before stepping outside to follow the man, eyes scanning the dimly light evening. Inwardly, he wondered, Is this my past, come to find me?
Or my dreams come over to reality? Or just a waking fever dream ...? After a few moments, he felt the chill hit his marrow again; he shivered once, then returned to the inn and moved over to read the note left behind.
OOC - I don't have access to my sheet yet, but I don't think I have anything in History, so [roll0]
EDIT: Oh, this is going to be a long haul if I can't get better than a 3 ...
Stats and skills will go here ...
AC HP 10 Init Move 40' Pass Per 11
Str + Dex + Con + Wis + Int + Cha +
Effects: None

[Rilem]

Dell had reflexively turned up his collar as the man in the top hat entered, thinking him an official of some sort. But no, just a well-dressed messenger, and a generous one.

He moves closer to the pinned scroll and reads the note, clicking his tongue in sympathy. "Poor woman, but it says little about her malady." He nods to the nearest patron who hasn't fully immersed themselves in their drinks. "Have you heard of this Indirovich? Or the Madam Kolyana?

[roll0] for Charisma check, possibly add proficiency for investigate or persuasion?

[Lentrax]

Valeria was in the middle of a performance of the often hilarious folk song, “There’s a Hole In My Boot,” when the man enters the tavern.

She takes a break from the stage to have a drink. The one paid for by the mysterious messenger. She pauses for a moment or two at a couple of tables, using Prestidigitation to pull trinkets out of people's hair, or making small flowers appear in her hands to give to a maid or two.

She reads the note.

Well, Val says with a smile. I don't know about the lot of you, but to aid in the call of true love? That would make a story worthy of song.

[roll0]

[Xihirli]

Fisk's expression was thoughtful.
"I don't trust this guy," she said out loud. "But if Val's going I'd better make sure she doesn't talk herself into more trouble than she can sing herself out of."

[Spectre]

Dull Tavern

Jahl steps outside and is met by heavy rainfall. It's a cold rain, colder than he's used to. Colder than is normal for this region. Through the rain and the mist, he's able to catch a glimpse of the strange messenger. The man skillfully clambers up onto the front of the black stagecoach with grace and poise. So, the messenger and the carriage driver are one and the same? Was the stagecoach itself empty, then? No. It simply couldn't be. After all, Jahl could swear he felt hidden eyes upon him, watching from within. After settling into his seat at the top, the carriage driver reaches for the blood-spattered whip at his belt.

Something stops the driver in his place as he unfurls his whip. He glances down, chuckling to himself. "My friend," shouts the driver through the rain, "zhere is a saying amongst my people!" The driver crooks his head to one side, acknowledging Jahl's presence without facing him. "Mište avapas ke lo omaro baro themeske, katari!" Whatever language he was speaking sounded nothing like anything Jahl had ever heard. "Zhere's no such zhing as a night vithout end." he explains, flashing a smug grin. His yellow teeth glimmer in the lanternlight. What did he know that Jahl didn't?

"Remember zhat, my friend, and enjoy zhis night." At that, the driver reaches for a bottle at his side and takes a deep swig. Wine dribbles down his face, but he hardly seems to care. Without warning, the driver cracks his whip in the air. A sickening squelch follows, as do the hoarse shrieks of his half-starved horses. As the stagecoach hurtles onward into the night, the driver shouts back over his shoulder.

"Who knows? It may be your last!"

His wet, throaty cackle echoes sinisterly through the empty streets.

Then, he's gone. Swallowed by the dark.

--

Inside, Dell's questions go nowhere.

Not a single patron has heard of the Kolyanas, nor the Indiroviches.

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl shivered again, uncertain if stepping outside had been a good thing or a bad thing. Shaking his head, he slipped back into the tavern, the messenger's cackle echoing in his ears. Inside, he joined his companions, a grim look on his face - darker than the normal scowl. He nodded to the note and growled, "Not sure how this is all gonna play out, but it will likely end badly ... mark my words."

After that, he walked over to get his ale, downing it in one long pull before ordering a second.
OOC - Just some RP
Stats and skills will go here ...
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: Quarterstaff (+3 / 1d6+1B); Dagger (+3 / 1d4+1P), Longsword (+5 / 1d8+3S)
Spells: Cantrips 2/2 ; 1st 2/2 Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Rilem]

Dell puts his face close to the window, hoping to catch another glimpse of the coach, but it's long gone, of course. He glances over his shoulder at Jahl, who's already into his second ale.

"It might at that," he replies. "But I know I don't have much coin left and no one else is offering us work. It's either follow him to this Barovia place or rely on Valeria support the four of us."

[Xihirli]

And then the party agreed not to go to Barovia
"'Tis a silly place."

"You all know I'm with you for the long haul," Fisk said. "I think going with this guy... we don't have enough information to know if it's a good idea. But if we do, you'll all need someone with a level head on her shoulders to get you through it." She lifted her cup of water. She was in if they were.

[Lentrax]

Val pouts at Dell’s comment. Would relying on me truly be that bad? You make it sound like I can’t sing my way into a bed every night.

To Fisk, Val says, We’ll, we aren’t going with him. I think if that were the case he would have waited until someone volunteered, not leave into the dark dead of night.

Val finishes her glass of wine, then cracks her neck as she stands back up.

Ill be back for another wine soon, but in the meantime, I have some singing to do.

[Xihirli]

Fisk caught her hand as she was heading away. "Decision first," she insisted. "Full vote now. In or out?"
She glanced at the contract and decided to save her 'reluctantly dragged into adventures' speech for later.
"I vote in."

[Lentrax]

Val gently takes her hand back, and then gently cups the side of Fisk’s face.

It really is a shame we work together. Now stop frowning or you’ll get wrinkly. Of course I’m in.

[Xihirli]

Fisk looked concerned. "Do you hate working with me, Val?"

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl glanced at the others, shaking his head at their banter. To Fisk’s question, he frowned. "Vote now ... why? Are you going tonight, on the word of a strange man serving a master nobody has heard of from a town nobody can place on a map? I’ll see justice done, but this seems fool-hardy."
OOC - Just voicing some concerns. But don’t worry ... unless things get really silly, I’ll obviously take the bait plot hook :smallsmile:
Stats and skills will go here ...
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: Quarterstaff (+3 / 1d6+1B); Dagger (+3 / 1d4+1P), Longsword (+5 / 1d8+3S)
Spells: Cantrips 2/2 ; 1st 2/2 Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Lentrax]

Fisk looked concerned. "Do you hate working with me, Val?"

A gesture questioned wrapped by sorrow's bitter masking, the questioner's questioned now by the gesture's passing.

Valeria boops Fisk on the nose. Seriously. Stop frowning. You're too cute to make yourself wrinkly this young. Think about what I said. See if you can puzzle it out, alright?


Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl glanced at the others, shaking his head at their banter. To Fisk’s question, he frowned. "Vote now ... why? Are you going tonight, on the word of a strange man serving a master nobody has heard of from a town nobody can place on a map? I’ll see justice done, but this seems fool-hardy."
OOC - Just voicing some concerns. But don’t worry ... unless things get really silly, I’ll obviously take the bait plot hook :smallsmile:
Stats and skills will go here ...
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: Quarterstaff (+3 / 1d6+1B); Dagger (+3 / 1d4+1P), Longsword (+5 / 1d8+3S)
Spells: Cantrips 2/2 ; 1st 2/2 Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

Valeria's soft laugh tinkles in the air. Oh, I wouldn't worry about doing anything tonight.

Her eye twinkles mischeviously as she looks over toward Fasha. Or perhaps... Perhaps I should?

She looks back to her group. Tomorrow is fine enough for me. I don't particularly think dark and stormy nights are good for anything but finding someone for a kiss and cuddle. Perhaps you should find one for yourself?

[Spectre]

Dull Tavern

Fasha returns from the kitchens, her arms burdened with several platters of warm food and foamy drinks. "Ah, there's me favorite out-of-towners!" She winks at Jahl before leaning over to carefully set a steaming bowl of rabbit stew before him. Immediately, the smell of fine ingredients and savory spices wafts through the tavern. "'Ere you go, for the big man." Fasha sets a large tankard of ale down as well, though her enthusiastic gestures result in some spillage. A large glass of brandy is set down before Dell, as well as a water for Fisk.

She sets the last platter down before Val, upon which a small feast is laden. A colorful bowl of hot stew serves as its glorious centerpiece. Displayed by it's side are warm breadsticks, a roasted eggplant dish, and plum pudding. "An' fer the pretty lady, wit' her siren songs." chortles the barmaid, batting an eye at Valeria. "You're lucky the cook owes me for not rattin' 'im out." she explains with a sly smile. "Out of the good wine though, I'm afraid!" She jokingly sobs. "The other stuff is right foul, an' I just wouldn't 'ave that!" Fasha flashes a grin.

"Buuut, I might just 'ave a bottle o' my own upstairs!" In response to Valeria's words, Fasha places a hand upon her chest as if offended. "My word, bard, what sort of girl do you take me for?" she jests. Just then, she seems to catch on to the conversation at hand. "Wait, you lot are plannin' on leavin' tonight? Oh, we just can't 'ave that!"

Her brow narrows. "Besides, didn't the man say to head out at first light?"

"That's the morning! So... you've plenty of time."

[Xihirli]

"I never said anything about leaving tonight," Fisk protested, her head sort of swimming still.
Did Val imply that our working relationship is what's keeping me out of Fasha's place in her arms?
Fisk shook her head. "Certainly we'll be going to bed." She stood up. "I'll just go check on our horse outside."

She headed outside, trying not to give her party time to remind her that they did not, in fact, have a horse.

[Lentrax]

Dull Tavern

Fasha returns from the kitchens, her arms burdened with several platters of warm food and foamy drinks. "Ah, there's me favorite out-of-towners!" She winks at Jahl before leaning over to carefully set a steaming bowl of rabbit stew before him. Immediately, the smell of fine ingredients and savory spices wafts through the tavern. "'Ere you go, for the big man." Fasha sets a large tankard of ale down as well, though her enthusiastic gestures result in some spillage. A large glass of brandy is set down before Dell, as well as a water for Fisk.

She sets the last platter down before Val, upon which a small feast is laden. A colorful bowl of hot stew serves as its glorious centerpiece. Displayed by it's side are warm breadsticks, a roasted eggplant dish, and plum pudding. "An' fer the pretty lady, wit' her siren songs." chortles the barmaid, batting an eye at Valeria. "You're lucky the cook owes me for not rattin' 'im out." she explains with a sly smile. "Out of the good wine though, I'm afraid!" She jokingly sobs. "The other stuff is right foul, an' I just wouldn't 'ave that!" Fasha flashes a grin.

"Buuut, I might just 'ave a bottle o' my own upstairs!" In response to Valeria's words, Fasha places a hand upon her chest as if offended. "My word, bard, what sort of girl do you take me for?" she jests. Just then, she seems to catch on to the conversation at hand. "Wait, you lot are plannin' on leavin' tonight? Oh, we just can't 'ave that!"

Her brow narrows. "Besides, didn't the man say to head out at first light?"

"That's the morning! So... you've plenty of time."

And yet it still isn't enough time... Valeria says, taking up a breadstick.

[Rilem]

“He did say leave at first light,” Dell nods, swallowing hard after savoring the brandy in his mouth for a long moment. “Which means they’re not expecting visitors until midday at least, if it’s that far a walk.”

He nods toward Jahl, “Which means, if you’re suspicious of the fellow, we could leave a little before first light and get there early. Weather permitting, of course,” he adds, gesturing with his brandy hand toward the window. “That’d still give us some time to find someone who’s heard of this place, or knows the road.”

If only I’d gone guild merchant instead of artisan we could’ve had a mule/cart.

[Lentrax]

Valeria points with her breadstick.

You do realize he wasn't being literal, right? At first light, before, after, for us to get from here to there will take enough time that they will be able to see anyone coming well before we get there, regardless of when we actually leave.

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl watched Fisk step outside, then turned towards his stew and ale and gave the server a nod. "My thanks, ma'am." He wasn't going to say much more while Fasha hung around, but something occurred to him.

"Just to be clear, you don't know that man? Or who he represents? How about the locations he mentioned? The road, the woods, or that Barovia? Anything ring a bell?"
OOC - Just asking some questions.
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: Quarterstaff (+3 / 1d6+1B); Dagger (+3 / 1d4+1P), Longsword (+5 / 1d8+3S)
Spells: Cantrips 2/2 ; 1st 2/2 Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Rilem]

Dell shrugs in acknowledgment to Valeria's comment. "I suppose that's so," he says, then arches a thick eyebrow and adds, in mock seriousness, "Even though maybe you're just looking for an excuse to sleep late."

[Lentrax]

Oh, I don’t need the excuse…

She takes a bite of the breadstick.

But it does help.

[Spectre]

Dull Tavern

The barmaid flashes a wry grin at Valeria. "Aye love, but we'll make do, won't we?" With a wink and a contentful sigh, Fasha starts to tidy up the table. "Aw, I'd love to stay an' chat, my dears. Alas, I've a fair bit o' closing up to do!" Her warm eyes narrow in distaste as she watches a group of drunken farmers spill yet another tankard of ale all over themselves. A second sigh escapes the barmaid's lips, this one born of genuine disgust. "Right, well. I'll need to get tha'."

The barmaid simply shrugs at Jahl's series of questions. Halfway through, she interrupts him. "I fetch drinks, my friend! Nothin' more or less. Sorry!" She offers an apologetic smile before reaching into her pocket and retrieving a small copper key engraved with the number "3". She slides it along the table before leaving it in front of Valeria. "For you, love. Goes to me room upstairs, if you'd rather wait somewhere a little less... drunk."

At that, Fasha will scurry away to begin the arduous process of herding drunken patrons out.

--

Meanwhile, Fisk steps outside.

It's bitterly cold, and the heavy rainstorm has only gotten worse.

[Lentrax]

Val picks up the key, spinning it around her finger.

She picks up her guitar.

Well, friends. Unless you need anything else from me, I am off.

Valeria will do a little helping, using Prestidigitation to clear off some of the messes on her way up the stairs.

[Xihirli]

It wasn't great out there, but Fisk wasn't there for pleasure. She put up her hood and searched for the man's cart.
Let's learn a bit more about our prospective employer, yeah? She thought to herself.

Gonna sneak! You know, like a rogue. [roll0] stealth.

[Xihirli]

Not seeing any clues, Fisk went back inside to sit by a fire before going to bed.

[Rilem]

"I'll just watch the fire for a bit," Dell remarks as patrons filter either out into the rain to to their rooms.

Had anyone peered into the room hours later, they might have seen his form still sitting there, elbows on his knees and head turned to the hearth. There's more life in the dying embers than in his face.


I forgot that Reborns don't actually sleep, they do the four-hour-staring thing like Elves but stay conscious. He'll go to a room if customers can't stay in the common area overnight, of course.

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Between the flirting and the idle chatter, it seemed the evening was done. Jahl finished his stew and ale in silence, nodding at those who departed to find nightly entertainment or stare at the fire. When Faik returned, he grunted, "Carriage left before I came back in ... you see anything? "

Once he was done, if it seemed apparent the evening was done, he’d go to his room and hope for a dreamless sleep.
OOC - sorry, but Jahl doesn’t really have anything to add :smallsmile:
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: Quarterstaff (+3 / 1d6+1B); Dagger (+3 / 1d4+1P), Longsword (+5 / 1d8+3S)
Spells: Cantrips 2/2 ; 1st 2/2 Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Xihirli]

Fisk shook her head.
"No, nothing to go on. I don't trust this, but..." she smiled. "I kinda like it anyway."

[Spectre]

Dull Tavern

Patrons slowly depart with the blurring of minutes into hours. As the evening progresses and the sputtering fire cools down into embers, the taproom is swallowed by the dark. Glowing coals cast dim light upon the pale white face of a woman sheltering from the dark before the hearth. Tall shadows that stretch far up the ceiling flicker in darkened corners as silent observers, their gazes transfixed upon her. Upstairs, wooden shutters swing in the wind, slamming hard and leaving sleepers restless.

Around midnight, the oil lantern mounted upon the street corner just outside grows dark, finally submitting to the night. Somewhere in between all the tossing and turning, the beating of heavy rainwater upon the tavern roof becomes a beggar's lullaby.

Your eyelids each grow unusually heavy, overtaken by exhaustion you've never felt before.

Forgotten Campsite

https://images2.imgbox.com/09/15/2Z4KPRF5_o.gif

Somehow pulled into a fitful slumber, you dream of a place you’ve never known: a secluded grove surrounded by misshapen trees, at the center of which sputters a crackling fire. A low, cloying mist gathers around the edges of the clearing, swallowing the light and growing closer every moment. The mist hangs thick in the air, turning the trees around you into gray ghosts, their needle-covered arms interlocking. A single dirt path leads out of the woods.

You're there, huddled before the dying fire. Somehow you know that its warmth is all that protects you from the mist.

All around you are your companions.

It has started to rain.

--

OOC: Your equipment is missing. You may keep a single item of your choice, which you discover on your person in poor condition. Please describe the item and the state of it in your next post. In addition, I need you each to roll 1d100.

In the distance, the screech of a great horned owl echoes strangely. A twig snaps.
https://www.youtube.com/watchv=7aFCzXffatY&list=PLEtEd39NtYvYBHdyyLyyTHbjCbhWkc1Yx&index=6 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7aFCzXffatY&list=PLEtEd39NtYvYBHdyyLyyTHbjCbhWkc1Yx&index=6)

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

... shadows lengthened ... red eyes glowing in the night ... soft, sibilant laughter echoing in the darkness ... a clawed hand reaching out ...

Startlingly awake, Jahl reached to his hip and his chest, eyes wild and wide. His left hand closed on the old symbol he kept under his shirt, while his right hand slapped at his hip, the blade he sought no longer there. Frowning, Jahl rose to his feet, looking around for his pack and gear. He pulled forth the medallion, the dark iron rusted and tarnished.

He dropped the symbol to his chest as he gazed around. It appeared he and his companions were all there, arrayed around a sputtering campfire. They were surrounded by darkness and mist that see mean to push at the light, threatening to swallow everyone whole once the light was gone.

Confused, Jahl reached out to wake any of the others not already awake. Perhaps one of them knew what the hell was going on ...
OOC - I think there were two clear options, but to me the holy symbol makes slightly more thematic sense.
[roll0]
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Rilem]

Dell closes his eyes for a time, listening to the crackle of the fire — then snaps them open when the sound changes and the warmth of the tavern is replaced by the cool, damp air of the woods.

He clambers hastily to his feet, leaning on the gnarled tree bough he used as a walking stick, then exclaiming in surprise as the an inch or so of wood crumbles as his weight falls upon it. Upon examination, the branch he had cut just weeks ago seems mealy and rotten.

The others were there, rousing themselves.

“I … don’t dream
much,” he says. “So what is this?”

[roll0]
[roll1] perception

Item is cudgel (a branch from the tree he was hanged on) used as arcane focus

[Lentrax]

Valeria opens her eyes with a wistful smile on her face, a smile that fades quickly when she sees what is around her. She reaches her hand out and it finds the familiar feel of the tortoise shell that forms her guitar.

Or, perhaps… not so familiar? When did she let her instrument fall into such disrepair? Most of the inlays are gone, the strings look about ready to snap, one of the tuning knobs has been replaced with what looks like a misshapen twig.

She snatched the instrument up and holds it up to the firelight. She peers inside, hoping that…. But it’s no good. The portrait inside has faded as well, it seems. Zilthrae… I’m sorry…

[roll0]

[Xihirli]

Fisk gasped as she saw her cards were soggy, a few torn in places. And the rest of her stuff...

"Someone robbed us blind." And stopped to break a guitar?
Fisk shook off that thought.

[roll0]

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl growled in frustration as it became clear no one knew what was going on. He listened to the others own discoveries, then began to cast about for signs of drag marks or tracks. ”We weren’t robbed, ‘less those in the bar drugged us and brought us out here. If so, why? And why give us crappy copies of our prized possessions? This is something else. Someplace else. Feels off ...”
OOC - [roll0]. Anyone have detect magic?
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Lentrax]

Nothing for it. Mostly doesn't matter who or how we got here, because we are here now.

Val listens to the owl in the woods.

But something is out there, and it isn't our friend in the trees.

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl gave Val a sidelong look of confusion. ”I think it's important how we got here ... as does who brought us. Might tell us how we get back. Or why we're here. ” Snorting to himself, he continued to can the trees, looking for whatever it was Val seemed to notice. After a moment, he spoke quietly. "Did, uh, anyone find a weapon?"
OOC - Just responding ...
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Lentrax]

That would not change that we are here. And someone who brought us here by whatever means they used means they are very unlikely to send us back. If they were that friendly of a sort, they would not have brought us to such a charming vacation spot without telling us to begin with.

[Rilem]

"Did, uh, anyone find a weapon?"

Dell raises his walking stick and shrugs. It looks half-digested. "I don't think this counts anymore."

He circles the campsite, snatching up sticks and anything else that looks dry enough to burn. "Maybe we can build the fire up a bit."


[roll0] investigation if needed

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl shook his head. ”I know we're here, but that doesn't mean I don't care how or why ... may be important.” He watched as Dell gathered wood for the fire. "Sure, might as well. Maybe we make it through the night and we can check on that road. You all think this has anything to do with that coachman from last night?"[/I]
OOC - chit chat
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Spectre]

Forgotten Campsite

Flashing sheets of cold droplets wash over the grove to softly kiss at your cold flesh. The light, misty rain precedes the arrival of harder drops that plunge like icy stones from the heavens, minutes later. A quick glance up at the night sky fills you with anxiety. These are not the stars you knew. These are cold, distant watchers spread far from one another - lonely, blinking lights that resemble the eyes of a vast, eldritch foe peering in from the inky blackness overhead.

The heavy mist that hangs low to the ground creeps forward...

--

Dell

While the others collect themselves, Dell circles the campsite in his search for kindling. The swampy mire ground is difficult to navigate, but after a few moments, Dell discovers a small mound of stunted shrubs, dead leaves, and fallen pine needles. Hidden within the pile appears to be a spinning top carved with four faces.

The red paint has started to flake away, and the carvings have become choked with foliage, hiding the faces.

Valeria

The bard, fearing the worst, checks her damaged instrument. Though intact, it had seen far better days. To make matters worse, the portrait inside was terribly decayed. However, as Valeria checks the portrait, she notices something else, something strange.

There's something inside her guitar: a tiny alchemical jar, crammed inside. It seems stuck.

Jahl

The warlock's medallion almost crumbles apart in his hands as he inspects the rusted thing. The iron appears heavily corroded as if the medallion had been submerged underwater for some time. Adding to this theory is the slight, briny stench that wafts forth from it.

As Jahl inspects it, he notices something by the fire: a little old doll made from dark, dense wood.

It's missing both hands as well as one foot.

Fisk

Fisk's cards are soggy and stained, almost unusable. Holding them up to the fire to dry seems to help, but with the pressing mist, who knows how much time the group will have before the campfire is swallowed up entirely?

As she sits by the fire, Fisk's hands trace along the outline of a flexible rod buried in the mud.

It's about a foot long, and thin.

[Rilem]

Dell plucks the toy from the pile and brushes off the muck and debris from the sides. It looked strangely out of place here. Had there been children at this campsite?

A wary eye on the mists, he pockets the top and carries some of the wood and leaves to the fire.

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

Jahl was standing near the fire, looking at his medallion as he sighed. It was barely being held together, and it smelled like the sea ... what had happened to it? Was this further proof that the gods ... rather his god had forsaken him? Shaking his head, he placed the medallion carefully in his pouch, uncertain how long it would last hanging from a rusting chain. As he glanced down, something caught his eye. Frowning, he squatted down and reach out for the object, pulling up a small doll. Made of a weird, dark wood, he wondered who had dropped it or why it was missing parts.

Standing back up, he absently put the doll in his pouch, eyes focusing on the approaching fog. Looking to the others, he nodded his head at the mist and quietly asked, ”So now what? Try and stoke the fire, or follow the path? Personally, I'm all for doing something ..."
OOC - taking the doll for now ...
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Xihirli]

Fisk clenched her fist around the rid, curious, and tried to pull it from the muck, not with any particular caution – it was probably a stick.

[Lentrax]

Val carefully unstrings her guitar. Once she is able to, she reaches her fingers into the body of the instrument, trying to get ahold of the vial to pull it out.

And is that a tear rolling down the red-skinned face?

[Spectre]

Forgotten Campsite

With the surge of harder, heavier rains comes a sudden and intense drop in temperature. A chilling wind cuts through the trees, slicing into bared flesh and numbing your fingers and toes. After several moments, it feels as if all the warmth in the world has been lost; sapped away by an immortal foe that can never be fought, whose grievances will go unanswered, forever. It would not be long before the cold began its insidious corruption of the flesh.

Through the encroaching mist seethes the shadows and shapes of unknown horrors.

Tricks of the mind, you're certain of it.

Aren't you?

--

Dell

As the warlock reaches down into the mound of rotting foliage, his fingers glide up against the segmented trunks of many tiny centipedes hidden within. The long, thin arthropods curl up at the touch or crawl away to writhe in the mud, all save one or two. These centipedes bite at Dell instead, defending themselves before scattering.

After brushing the muck from the red top, Dell can make out four faces as well as correlated letterings: happy, sad, wrathful, and dead.

OOC: Please attempt a DC 11 Constitution Save.

Valeria

For Valeria, the alchemical vial lodged in her guitar proves to be somewhat difficult to remove. After struggling for a moment, however, the bard manages to pull the jar out from inside to reveal its gruesome contents. Inside the old brown jar are about a dozen pickled tongues in various stages of advanced decay.

A worn label can be seen upon the jar, but it's too faded to be legible.

Fisk

The slender object isn't quite identifiable even after being ripped from the mud. It's immediately clear, however, that this was no stick, but seemed to have once been a finely crafted tool of some kind. After a moment spent cleaning the tool, Fisk finally manages to recognize the item.

It's a switch, used for corporal punishment. You know this switch, there's no mistaking it.

It was used to discipline you as a child.

[Rilem]

Reborn have advantage vs. poison, disease, so including that assuming the bite is one of those. (Also has resistance to poison)

[roll0] Con save 1
[roll1] Con save 2


Dell yanks his hand away, dropping the leaves in frustration as he does so. The top he keeps; it at least hadn't tried to bite him.

He shakes his head as the weather grows worse, trying not to look too hard at the nearing mists. "This rain tears it," he tells the others. "We've got no protection here, no shelter. But someone lit that fire. Maybe we can catch up with them along the road."

"That's the problem with nature, something's always stinging you or oozing mucous all over you."

[Xihirli]

Fisk stared at the little switch for awhile and eventually laid it on the ground, frowning.
"Okay, something is deeply wrong here. Yeah, anything that puts distance between us and right here."
She kicked some mud to haphazardly cover the rod.

[Lentrax]

She wants to throw them away in disgust, but something is telling her they are important somehow.

What in the name of the gods is this?

For once, words seem to fail the bard.

Yes. Let's... let's go.

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

With the group agreed, Jahl searched around for an accessible torch to pull from the fire. He didn't relish wandering off into the dark with naught but a burning stick, but staying in this creepy place seemed counter-intuitive. Besides, he'd rather face whatever was out there on his feet and moving, than sitting and cowering. ”If someone has a better light source, feel free. But I suggest we all grab a stick and move on."

After waiting for a moment, he looked around. "Ready?"
OOC - Guess Jahl didn't have an additional moment of weird yet ... so grabbing a 'torch' and moving towards the path, I guess. At least that's what it sounded like we all agreed to :D
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Rilem]

Dell nods and plucks another stick from the fire. Like as not it wouldn't last long, but it was better than nothing. With the makeshift torch in one hand and his walking stick in the other — he carried it now, worried about it crumbling further if he leaned on it — he starts off toward the road. He tries not to look behind at the mist; he doesn't want to know if it's following.

[Xihirli]

Fisk scowled and picked up the switch. It was.... almost a weapon. "Ready."

[Spectre]

Forgotten Campsite >> Old Svalich Road

https://images2.imgbox.com/ea/85/EQrrtBTh_o.gif

For a brief moment, you feel a modicum of safety while huddled together in the warmth of sputtering torchlight. Ahead, the path at your feet gradually fades into the darkness of the woods. Forced to wander in search of the path, for a sobering moment you're almost certain that you've become lost. Then, a distant crack of thunder and lightning provides some much-needed illumination. In the flash, you spot it: a distant, deserted roadway. A sign of civilization, one might hope.

Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the fading roadway. Despite its broadness, the woods have risen up to swallow the path in vast sections. Giant trees loom on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mist.

Would it lead to safety?

--

OOC:

Your eyes are drawn to a gnarled evergreen. Though its sickly branches are weighed down by glistening webs watched over by many black spiders, the tallest branch reaches out over the roadway. Atop the branch hangs a sinister-looking straw and wicker doll.

The details were difficult to make out, but simply glancing in its direction fills you with a sense of unease.

[Lentrax]

Which way, do we suppose?

[roll0]

[Starbin]

Jahl Kandolkan (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2573852)

As the group started upon the road with no small amount of trepidation, Jahl took the lead as best he could, holding up whatever passed for a makeshift torch. He kept reaching down to his hip, only to be reminded he didn't have his blade with him. He tried to push away the fear, but every step felt like it was straight out of his nightmares. The dark and muddy path meandering through the forest, with the trees seeming to strain to reach down and pluck an unsuspecting traveler from the road. He shook his head, mumbling to himself as they moved forward. ”Stop being stupid ... it's nothing but a road at night. Nothing sinister out there but ... but ... a creepy wicker doll hanging from a tree ... what!?"

Jahl suddenly stopped, raising a hand. He put a finger to his lips, then pointed at his eyes, then pointed to a large, gnarled evergreen up ahead, it's wet, sickly branches reaching over the roadway. There were several spiderwebs all over it, and a small straw and wicker doll hanging from one of the upper branches. He leaned close, never taking his eyes off the tree and the doll, whispering, "I don't know what in the Nine Hells that is, but it is giving me the creeps. If we're pressing on, keep your eyes open ... I've got a not-so-good feeling about that thing."
OOC - Hopefully he got a torch. Pausing and warning the others.
AC 13 / HP 10 / Init +2 / Move 40' / Passive Perception 11
Str +1 Dex +2 Con +2 Wis +1 Int +0 Cha +5
Skills: Arcana +2, Religion +2, Insight +1, Intimidation +5
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Orc
Weapons: N/A
Spells (DC 13, Spell attack +5)
- (unl) Eldritch bolt, toll the dead
- (1) Hex, witchbolt
Hex 1/1
Effects: Dash through difficult terrain; no AOOs from attackers when moving

[Xihirli]

Fisk, from the back, studied the evergreen that was pointed out, holding out the switch even though she didn’t think if would be much help.


[roll0], if it still matters.

[Rilem]

Dell’s eyes pass nervously over the trees — but he averts his gaze quickly, feeling a phantom tightness around his neck.At Jahl’s comment he looks again, halfheartedly.

“Another abandoned piece of junk, like from before?” He asks, twirling the top around between a thumb and forefinger. “I’d say go around, but I don’t want to wander through the woods again. I wasn’t certain we’d find the road again.


[roll0]