Curse of Strahd Solo Run (IC)

[RandomWombat]

"Oh yeah, the card lady. If she's a real fortune teller she might be able to give us a lead on the girl," Gweyir nods along. The two of them make their way outside and she whistles, calling Spider down from the roof.

The creaking sound of its legs announces its arrival, crawling over the lip of the door above Kellon. Then it jumps down to land in front of them, and turns around to face them. "I didn't see any bad dangerous things," Spider reports.

[Prehysterical]

"Good lad," Kellon praises. Looking again to Gweyir, he asks her, "Do you think that we should leave Sokol here with his wife? Or do you think that we will need the help too much?"

[RandomWombat]

Spider seems happy at the praise, following along at Kellon's heel like a ship's mouser drunk on attention. "I think we should be able to handle it, as long as we return before dark," Gweyir answers, stepping down from the wooden platform outside of the tavern.

[Prehysterical]

"All right. We should tell him where we're going before we leave. Don't want the poor soul to think we've abandoned him. Might as well tell him that we're waiting on answers, too."

[RandomWombat]

With a trip to Mary's townhouse, the crew finds Sokol has moved her downstairs and sat her on her own bed. He has her eating on her own now, at least. "Have you found any news?" he asks, coming over to meet them at the door in case it is bad news.

Gweyir shakes her head, "We haven't learned anything yet, but we got some help from a guy named Ismark. Said he's your burgomaster's son?"

"Aha. I remember him as a youth, very good man," Sokol nods, a slightly hopeful smile to his eyes behind his cloth wrappings. "We can trust him, I think. Thank you."

[Prehysterical]

Any improvement in Mary's condition at this point is to be celebrated. "He said he would ask around, see if anyone saw or heard anything about Gertruda. It will take some time, though. In the meantime, we will be heading out of town to see this Madame that haunts our steps. We were expecting that you would want to stay here, batten down the hatches as you like."

[RandomWombat]

"Aye, that sounds for the best," Sokol nods, glancing back at Mary, who is looking at the floor and eating a few bits of trail mix from her hand at a time. "Be careful among the Vistani. Not all are bad, but many are spies for the devil Strahd."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon blinks at Sokol's warning. "...That would be a lot easier if we knew who the Vistani are, Sokol. Don't forget, we're not from here."

[RandomWombat]

"Ah, my apologies!" the man puts a hand to his head, but can't bring himself to give his characteristic laugh in the situation. "The travelers in colorful clothes, you see. They live in their camps outside of the towns and villages. It is said that their pacts with Strahd allow them to walk the Mists safely."

[Prehysterical]

"Hmmm... I think we saw one of them when we were trapped in the Durst house a few days ago. That explains some things.

Right, well, if we're going to be back before dark, these old sealegs need to be patting down dirt. We should be off, then. Stay safe."

[RandomWombat]

"You as well, my friends," Sokol reaches out and pats Kellon and Gweyir on the shoulders, then waves to Spider as they make their way out.

On their way they go, traversing the worn streets of Barovia. The morning fog - a more natural element than the cursed Mists - has finally begun to part as the sun arcs upwards in the sky. Its warmth struggles to meet the land below, and the wind is chill.

The old road awaits. Its dirt path winds down between hills and farms, to the river crossing below. Gweyir walks beside Kellon, with Spider at their heels just behind. At a few points the arachnid briefly vanishes, then returns silently with some small bird or rodent carried in its fangs. Again Kellon is reminded of the mousers upon many ships, depositing their prey at the masters' feet.

As they approach their side of the bridge, Gweyir holds up a hand and points, drawing her sword. "Someone in hiding, pointing a crossbow at us. Show yourselves!" she calls out. She is answered by the sound of a dog barking. A slightly rotund Barovian man steps out of the woods across the bridge. Kellon can see a few others in hiding off to the side. Two with crossbows, and a few armed with only pitchforks.

The man holds up an empty hand, the other holding onto the dog's leash as it snarls, eyes locked on Spider. At his waist is a shortsword in its sheath, and he carries a worn old crossbow on his back. "Easy, easy. Down, girl." At his urging the dog shuts up and sits down next to him.

"Why are you hiding with bows trained on us?" Gweyir demands.

"We saw you coming... were just going to hide until you passed," the man says apologetically, motioning for the hunters to lower their bows. "The roads are dangerous. We were only being careful."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon finds himself thankful for the elf's sharp eyes. He looks at the man curiously. "Seems very trusting on your part," Kellon snarks. "I was under the impression that we were... what were those words? 'Duskies and mongrelfolk'?

People keep telling us that the roads are dangerous, but what makes them so dangerous? The undead? Bandits? Blights? Or something else?"

[RandomWombat]

"No point hiding now we're already spotted," the round man says, though when he lowers his empty hand he does rest it near his sword's pommel. "S'why we were hiding, you are... unusual." He chooses his words carefully, clearly trying actively not to offend and draw their ire.

"Undead, bandits, blights, and worse," one of the hunters off to the side of the bridge speaks up. "Some folks've disappeared recently. Little girl and a couple others. We are out searching for them."

"Don't suppose you have seen any of them?" the round man asks.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon scratches his throat wattle in thought. "Haven't seen anyone out on the road or in the woods during our time here. As it so happens, we are looking for someone, as well. A girl named Gertruda, about thirteen or fourteen summers old. She went missing about three days ago. Seen anyone like that come from the village behind us?"

[RandomWombat]

"That's the one," the hunter holds up a finger. "Gertruda. Mother sick to death with worry."

"Sorry to say we have had no luck either," the round man answers sadly. He pats the dog on the head and scratches her behind the ear. "Tsymbaly here caught her scent for a while. But we lost the trail at the river." He shakes his head. "May have tried swimming, got washed away. We have been following the river to look for her on the banks."

[Prehysterical]

"Hmmm... Maybe we can help. Tortles are no strangers to water and Gweyir here is a druid. If you look on one side and we look on the other, we might be able to find something," Kellon proposes.

Spoiler: OOC

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Survival check: (1d20+5)[21]

[RandomWombat]

The hunters look to the round man for guidance. He rubs his soft chin and nods, "Alright. We are going downstream here, already searched upstream." He points north along the river. The Barovian scouts begin making their way down along the banks.

Gweyir and Spider follow Kellon on the opposite side, both search parties within view of one another. The river. The noble's dog sniffs at the edge of the water as they go, but doesn't pick up on anything.

Spoiler: Survival

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Kellon searches along the banks, but finds no evidence of anyone crawling out or washing up and being dragged away so far.

As they go along, there is a loud caw. Kellon looks up, and there is a lone raven sitting in one of the trees across the water, seemingly watching them. The villagers pay it little mind as they continue their search.

[Prehysterical]

Spying the raven, Kellon catches Gweyir's attention and subtly points out the bird to her. "What do you think," he asks in a low voice. "A little too interested for simple curiosity?"

[RandomWombat]

"It does seem a little strange," she looks up at the bird out of the corner of her eye. "Do you want me to scare it off?"

[Prehysterical]

"Well, can you talk to it," Kellon asks uncertainly. "I was always told that druids can talk to animals. Might also help to tell if it's wild or belongs to someone."

[RandomWombat]

"I could, but I haven't prepared that kind of magic. The best I can do is charm it to be friendly," Gweyir steps back, closer to the raven, and its intelligent eyes follow her.

[Prehysterical]

In an effort to make the whole thing look less conspicuous (or more paranoid, depending on perspective), Kellon continues following the river. His attention is not truly focused on the ground, though, as he tries to hide his attempts to watch Gweyir and the raven... which only makes him look more twitchy and suspicious.

Spoiler: OOC

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Don't know if this needs a Deception check, but anyway: (1d20+1)[6]

[RandomWombat]

As the search party begins to move further up the river, the raven takes off - and then lands further ahead, keeping pace with them. Gweyir watches it and walks back up to Kellon. "Well, if there were any doubt it was following us."

[Prehysterical]

He merely gives a weary sigh. It feels like there's nothing they can really do about it. Even if they could, was it truly worth the effort just based off of an assumption that the bird is in service to Strahd? If it wasn't on the other side of the river, Kellon would be tempted to tell Spider to grab a feathered snack. As it is, Kellon relents. "I guess we'll find out sooner or later what master it serves. I would pray that the bird serves some benevolent master, but hot air and hollow prayers only feed a gathering storm."

[RandomWombat]

Without much to do about the bird, the two search parties carry on their search down the river. But alas, there is no luck in their search. They reach the point where the river flows into a wider lake, with no sign of the girl or any of the other missing persons.

There is an audible sigh from the other side of the river as the noble steps into view again. "Still no sign of the girl on this side. What about you?" Gweyir shakes her head, and the man scratches his dog behind the ear. "Well... I'm afraid it would be too dangerous for us to go poking further from the village, just end up with more missing. We're going to head back to the bridge, and keep looking for the other folks."

[Prehysterical]

"Be careful when you go back," Kellon tells the man. "It felt like we were being watched on our way down. Make sure you don't run into some sort of ambush on the way back."

Sighing, Kellon turns to Gweyir. "Well, that was a waste of time. Since we're out here, we should making our way to the madame's place before dark." That reminds him to ask the leader of the search party, "We're looking for a woman named Madame Eva. Do you know where she lives? All we know is that she lives on this side of the bridge."

[RandomWombat]

"Watched by what?" the round man asks, looking around nervously.

"Some raven, I think."

Oddly, Gweyir's answer seems to assuage some of his worry and he wipes his forehead. "Ah. No fear, then. Ravens are a sign of fortune, outsiders. The very first angel of the Morninglord to grace this land took the form of a raven." He turns and begins to trudge back the way they came, with the rest of their search party.

"Madame Eva... down that way," he nods his head behind him. "Follow the lake edge, you'll find the camp. Mind yourself round them though. Snake oil salesmen and agents of the devil Strahd."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon throws a skeptical look Gweyir's way. Since when did blackbirds serve as agents of a sun god?

Spoiler: OOC

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Religion to fact-check this: (1d20+1)[8]

"Sounds like Madame Eva is one of the Vistani. No friend of vampires, she is. Let's go make a social call. Perhaps she can explain about these cards from the house."

[RandomWombat]

The two of them have little issue crossing the river here, where the flow calms as it transitions into the lake. Spider simply sticks a web to another tree on the other side and swings across. The beach of the lake is soggy, muddy, and not so warm and pleasant as the ocean beaches Kellon knows.

Spoiler: Religion

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Kellon has never heard of such a thing. The only god that ravens have ever been considered a symbol of is the so-named Raven Queen, a goddess of shadows and death. Not an evil god, exactly. But no Morninglord.

The woods along the riverside start to thin, and ahead Kellon can see a gathering of wooden wagons, horses, colorful tents, and colorful inhabitants. The mournful strains of an accordion clash with the singing of several of the brightly clad figures around a pair of bonfires. A footpath continues beyond this encampment, meandering north between the river and the forest's edge.

[Prehysterical]

To Kellon's eyes, this place seems far more welcoming than the run-down settlement they left behind. They approach the settlement, eyes peeled for the woman who would likely recognize them at first glance.