Curse of Strahd Solo Run (IC)

[RandomWombat]

The broad stance of the turtle only seems to intimidate the hunters more, as the nearer of the two - the one facing him with bow ready - takes another step back. "Ocean?" the man asks, in confusion. "The ocean is only a myth."

Before more can be said, the answer of Andri's location becomes clear. From the gloom of the nearby buildings, across the road and up a slight incline, walks a man flanked by several other townsfolk. They are dressed in bland cloth tunics and trousers draped around gaunt, hunched forms, and wearing perpetual scowls. The blue light of the dusk sets their faces an eerie hue, streaked with long shadows.

One of the men carries a torch, its flame giving a more familiar, comforting red hue to the light around him. Comforting were it not for his fear and hate filled eyes locked onto the tortle.Two more flank him, carrying a pitchfork and a hoe. To the side of the men is a woman in a bloody apron, carrying a butcher's cleaver. Her hair is held back in a net.

Lastly, leading their pack, is Andri - the third of the three hunters. "We are here," he tells the other two, reassuringly, though his voice wavers with doubt.

"The creature speaks of the legendary ocean," the first hunter speaks again, informing Andri.

"Ocean?" the woman crows in a shrill voice. "Wait. That is no mongrelfolk, you fool menfolk," she points her cleaver at Kellon. "Look at their garb, their weapons. These are outlanders."

"Outlanders?" the man with the torch keeps his eyes locked on Kellon. The two with farming equipment remain silent, and if their stares could kill Kellon would be dead twice over.

"Said they were 'shipwrecked'. They got a female duskie-" the second hunter points at the elf again.

"I'm an elf," she corrects him this time, starting to get her breath back after a few moments standing. And for every moment standing, Kellon can sense the Mist growing nearer as it encircles the village. "Where are we?"

"Why, you're in Barovia, lass," the human woman answers, waving her butcher's cleaver around emphatically at their surroundings. "My condolences."