Curse of Strahd Solo Run (IC)

[RandomWombat]

There is no sign of any woman who recognizes them, though one of the men spies them coming down the lakeside and hollers to the others. Though there's a few glances their way, there are none of the death glares of the Barovians, and the nomad folk simply return to their business.

Several tents stand around the encampment. The largest of them stands near where the crew arrives in the camp, lamplight inside glowing through its sagging cloth walls, which flap in the cool wind off the water.

One of the men, leaning on what looks like a great butter churn next to one of their wagons, waves at the newcomers when they come into view. "What this then, huh? Visitors in quiet Barovia?" His eyes fall on Spider, curiosity in his eyes as he quirks a brow. "Odd choice of pets, but who am I to judge?"

Spider raises a mandible in greeting. "Hey there! I'm Spider. Who are you?"

"I'm a druid," Gweyir explains, as if it explains away everything about their arachnid companion. But the man seems to accept it with a casual shrug.

"If you say so! You can call me H'dirus. Might I interest you in some of our exotic wares? From across Barovia and beyond!"

[Prehysterical]

Kellon has never been fond of the old merchant's pitch. He waves off the offer of sale. "We're here on business. Where can we find Madame Eva? We received an invitation from her."

[RandomWombat]

"Guests of the Madame? Of course, welcome," H'dirus performs a short bow from his stance leaning against the churn. "You happen to be standing right outside of her tent. Please, be our guest and go on in."

[Prehysterical]

"Huh... Well, that was easy," Kellon mutters as he turns to enter the tent. He has gotten used to difficulty by this point.

[RandomWombat]

The tent flaps pull aside easily. Inside, Kellon sees that the light glowing inside is not from a lamp, but several candles throughout the room, lit with red flame that casts the room in a warm, but unfamiliar light. Revealed within is a low table covered in a black velvet cloth. Glints of light seem to flash from a crystal ball on the table as a hunched figure peers into its depths. As the crone speaks, her voice crackles like dry weeds. "At last you have arrived!" Cackling laughter bursts like mad lightning from her withered lips. Her garb is colorful, purples and reds wrapped around her in many layered shawls, decorated with handwoven patterns.

The crone is seated upon a cushion on the floor, with a wider one across from her at the table. Her tent is sparsely furnished otherwise. There is a cloth bed laid out upon the black and white rug that separates their feet from the cold earth, and a few potted plants liven up the interior.

"From the watery grave, and from the forsaken depths of Avernum. The Mother's stars guide to me stranger company each passing year," her eyes glitter in the glow of the red candles. "Surviving the House of Death, this was only the first of many trials that fate has laid before you. I have seen it in the cards," she withdraws an old deck of cards from beneath her table, worn and frayed by the years, and begins to shuffle it.

"You invited us here, something about being able to help?"

"It is not my place to help, only to show," the Madame's hands move autonomously, without the need to look or to take care in her shuffling. "You are lost. The Mother may offer a path... will that path help? That is for you to decide. So, will you allow me to read your fortune?"

[Prehysterical]

Reluctantly, Kellon takes a seat on the wide cushion. He himself does not place great stock in talk of fate and destiny, but some of the tales surrounding Poseidon include mentions of such things. "When you say 'fate' has laid these tests for us, is that another word for Strahd? From what we understand, he's the reason that we are here in the first place."

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir walks around the other side of the cushion, taking a seat beside Kellon. On his other side, Spider crawls in and curls up on the floor. "Is your mother here?"

"Not only my Mother, little one," the crone's voice croaks in response. "Mother Night, she of the stars and the moon." She finishes shuffling and slides the deck of cards in front of her onto the table. Kellon's question causes her to chuckle with dark amusement. "The vampire... is no more a master of your fate than he is a master of his own."

Her eyes flick between them, watching their faces, each just as alien to the others. "I have seen the light of the sun return to this place," her voice dips, whispers softly, yet nevertheless reverberating through the tent. "I have seen the imprisoned freed. By the vampire's death... perhaps. Perhaps. One path of many among the stars."

Madame Eva closes her eyes, and the flames of the candles flicker and dance as she lays a hand upon the deck of cards. "Now you must answer, each of you. Do you wish to see the path of fate...?"

[Prehysterical]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Religion check on Mother Night: (1d20+1)[18]

For a moment, Kellon is tempted. This woman clearly foresaw Anton's death, so there must be some truth to her divinations. Once he has made up his mind, though, Kellon shakes his head firmly. "I have weathered whatever storm life has thrown at me. I will not alter my course for the threat of consequence. Either I will survive and overcome, or the waves will take me under."

[RandomWombat]

Spoiler: Religion

Show

Kellon has never once heard of this title, even for Shar, who is never in any lore considered motherly.

The edges of her mouth turn down, but the crone nods slowly. "Then so be it."

"Are you sure?" Gweyir asks, her arms folded in front of her. Though she too is eyeing the deck of cards with apprehension. "Weren't we going to try and learn something about Gertruda here?"

"I cannot show you the fates of those not entwined with your own," Madame Eva speaks, taking her hand from the deck. The flames of the candles steady and grow strong again.

"What's a fate?" Spider asks curiously.

[Prehysterical]

"You do not need to be limited by my choice," Kellon tells them. "She has said that we each must answer. I have given mine, but I do not speak for you."

In response to Spider's question, Kellon explains, "The Madame here might correct me if I am wrong, but a 'fate' is the belief that certain things will happen in our life, no matter what. Maybe someone is fated to become a great king or fall to his death off a certain bridge or marrying a certain woman... Whatever that fate may be, not even knowledge of it and attempting to avoid it can change it."

[RandomWombat]

"Your friend is wrong on one account," Madame Eva opens her eyes, no longer gleaming in the light. "Fate is not a certainty. The branches are as numerous as the stars in the sky. Change one detail, and the fates may go awry."

"I don't really get it," Spider admits.

"Well, I guess there shouldn't be any harm in listening to the reading." Gweyir shifts in her seat to get a better view of the table.

"The path to dawn, with you is not entwined... it is the brother that you seek," Madame Eva recites, laying her hand once more upon the deck of cards. A few of the candles flicker, though less than before as the crone's eyes fall on the back of her hand. "The water of the womb binds. Kin calls to kin. This card will lead you to him..." she slides her hand down the length of the deck, drawing a card along with it, and lays it on the table.

'The Myrmidon'. An image of a gladiator, bare chested and clad in a helmet that hides his face. Blade and shield in hand. "In a den of wolves, the boy fights for his life. In death, loss. In victory, loss." Her tone is dispassionate. Gweyir looks down at the card, her eyes clearly plagued with worry.

"Fights for his life? What does that mean? Where is he?"

"This is all that the cards say," the Madame takes the card and shuffles it back into the deck.

[Prehysterical]

Seeing Eva shuffle the card back into the deck reminds Kellon of another matter. Reaching into his pack, he removes the two cards that were found in the Durst house. "Do these belong to you, Madame?"

[RandomWombat]

The soothsayer's eyes fall upon the cards, and she lowers her head in reverence. "Not I, not I. The Mother's herself, the cards of fate. Perchance a path through the night to the dawn..." Laying her own deck upon the table, Madame Eva reaches inside of her shawls and produces another card, much like the others, a glint of silver along the edge.

She slides it across the table, to a resting spot in front of Kellon, then withdraws her hand. Upon the face of the card is an image of a man's bald head, covered in spectral eyes. Waves of energy seem to radiate from the outline of his skull. The Esper. Madame Eva provides no further explanation, folding her hands in front of her.

"And shall Spider be seeking a reading today?"

A chittering humming noise emanates from Spider as it considers it. "Okay!"

There is no flickering as Madame Eva puts her hand upon the deck. "I see... the cards will show you what you seek." Her tone is a mixture of amusement and boredom as she flips over the card.

'The Paladin', displaying a valiant warrior of light. "To find lunch, you must only ask at the fire. The kindness of strangers shall provide," she recites Spider's fortune.

[Prehysterical]

When it becomes clear that Eva has nothing more to say about the Esper, Kellon takes the card and places it with the others back in his pack.

Kellon chuckles at Spider's fortune. "I'm sure that's of some comfort to you, eh? Though it seems like fate has been a mixed bag today..." It seems like Gweyir's fortune has created more worry for her than peace.

[RandomWombat]

"I was starting to get hungry!" Spider declares. It's only had a few rodents at most since leaving the house, and the pickings inside it were probably slim.

Aside, Kellon can see Gweyir looking at the cloth walls of the tent anxiously. "Right. There are other missing people right? Maybe some of them are connected," she seems to be reasoning out. "So we find Gertruda, and hopefully that helps."

"If you remain adamant, then you may go freely," the old mystic shuffles her deck again, and tucks it away under the table. "It is not my place to force knowledge where it is not desired. But should you ever find yourself lost in this land..." she holds up a hand to her tent flaps, a grin with several missing teeth stretching across her face, "You will be welcome to return."

[Prehysterical]

The card reading seems to have made Gweyir more anxious than she ever was in the Durst house. Kellon stands and bows his head respectfully to the Madame. "Thank you, Madame. I will keep that in mind," he tells her with genuine feeling. "May the rains fall softly on your roof and your winds be breezes instead of gusts."

"Now then, little Spider, let's see about getting you some food. I know the last few days have not been kind to you."

[RandomWombat]

Emerging from the tent, the group finds the encampment just as lively as before. The accordion player has taken a break, as a Vistana kitted out for hunting has returned with a freshly bagged elk. Spider eyes the catch hungrily and agrees, "Let's go get some!" With Spider scuttling forwards toward the fire, Gweyir lags behind, staring out at the lake away from the crowds. Her mind is elsewhere, and her appetite is probably lacking.

"Hello! I'm Spider, are you going to eat that whole thing?" going right up beside one of the Vistana around the fire, Spider's silent appearance causes the man a spook. But he seems to calm down quickly.

"Hehe, most of it. Rest we'll prob'ly smoke for later."

"May we please have some?" Spider asks, and the Vistani around the fire look over at Kellon and Gweyir approaching behind.

The older man, seated on a small cushion where the rest are using the ground or a small log as a seat, waves them over. "Certainly. Come and join us at the fire! We were just about to exchange stories. How about you tell us a few good ones, and we'll call that payment enough?"

[Prehysterical]

Poor Gweyir... They will need to have a chat later, no doubt.

Kellon hesitates before sitting down. That seems like more than a fair trade, but Kellon was used to delivering sermons, not tales. "What sorts of stories?" The words of the hunters come back to him and Kellon quickly adds, "Oh, er, how do you feel about stories of the sea? The townsfolk tell you that the sea is a myth, but that's a lie."

[RandomWombat]

"Ah, a sailor boy? Been a while since one of those came through, has it not?" one of the women asks, nudging the older man with a foot. He chuckles and bobs his head up and down.

"Oh yes. We would love some new stories of the sea!" the old storyteller says. The Vistana hunters begin skinning and butchering the kill, placing a few cuts of meat onto a spit to cook over the fire. One of them saws off a leg from the beast and tosses it to Spider, who gleefully bites into it and begins draining the vital juices before they can spill onto the ground.

Gweyir stays back from the fire, taking a seat on a rock and looking pensive.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon has an idea, but is not sure if it will work or not. He looks back to Gweyir and asks, "Gweyir, why don't you start with one of your own stories? I need a little bit to figure out which story to tell first."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

(1d20+3)[12]

[RandomWombat]

With a sigh, the elf comes around to an open spot around the fire next to the storyteller and takes a seat. "On the spot, huh? Alright," she places her hands palm down on her knees and looks into the fire in consideration. "I haven't been on the sea as long as you, Kellon, but I have a few stories from home."

She presses her tongue against her teeth in thought as she begins the story, half-heartedly, "Let's see. This one time, we had this crazy druid who wanted to Awaken a disease to see if we could learn to coexist with it. So, guy went and caught the common cold and then Awakened it." She shakes her head at the druid's foolishness, starting to tell the story with more energy. "The cold tried to spread itself at first and we quarantined everyone who caught it, but the colds it made weren't Awakened so it gave up and got depressed. It died in a few days when the Awakened cold germs died out and new ones replaced them. The druid ended up giving up after that."

The Vistani chuckle amongst themselves at the story. It's not a rousing eruption of laughter, but she gets a few responses.

"I'll say, as far as stories of ambitious fools go that one ended pretty well. How about I share one next," the old storyteller leans forwards.

"A mighty wizard came to this land over a year ago. I remember him like it was yesterday. He stood exactly where you're standing," he points at Spider's spot around the campfire. "A very charismatic man, he was. Dressed all in majestic robes and a fearsome black cloak, head bald as the sun. He thought he could rally the people of Barovia against the devil Strahd. He stirred them with thoughts of revolt and bore them to the castle en masse."

"When the vampire appeared, the wizard's peasant army fled in terror. A few stood their ground and were never seen again."

"The wizard and the vampire cast spells at each other. Their battle flew from the courtyards of Ravenloft to a precipice overlooking the falls. I saw the battle with my own eyes. Thunder shook the mountainside, and great rocks tumbled down upon the wizard, yet by his magic he survived. Lightning from the heavens struck the wizard, and again he stood his ground. But when the devil Strahd fell upon him, the wizard's magic couldn't save him. I saw him thrown a thousand feet to his death. I climbed down to the river to search for the wizard's body, to see if, you know, he had anything of value, but the River lvlis had already spirited him away."

[Prehysterical]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Since they said that they want the stories for payment, I have no idea if this needs a Performance check: but here it is: (1d20+1)[6]

Kellon looks at Gweyir with dumbfounded amazement. "Who but a druid would haver considered such a thing? Makes me ill just thinking about it!"

The old man's tale proves less enjoyable and far more sobering. So, Strahd was used to putting down rebellion and revolt in this realm. Such power... Kellon didn't need a fortuneteller to tell him that taking the vampire on now would be suicide.

A story finally emerges in Kellon's mind and he waggles his claws dramatically as he looks around the campfire. "I think I've got it. I'm going to guess that you all have never heard the story of Harald the Harpooner." Kellon shifts on his shell to get comfortable before sweeping his arms in time with the story, fully into orator mode.

"Many years ago, there was a whaling ship among the isles. The crew hunted not only whales, but sea creatures of all shapes and sizes and some too strange to be believed. One such man on the ship was a sailor named Harald Fingirsson. Harald was a tall and strong man, the envy of his fellow whalers and the prize of many a noblewoman or fishmonger's daughter. As it so happened, Harald did fall in love with a barber's daughter: Eoldad. Her father knew of Harald's womanizing ways and demanded a dowry from him: a haircomb carved from the jaw of a toothed whale for his daughter to brush her hair with every day. Harald had no fear in his heart and agreed immediately, for how difficult could such a thing be for one who looked monsters in the eye?

Well, on that voyage, the ship faced a terrible storm. Rain poured down, cold and blown so fast by the wind that it felt like needles. The wind nearly tore the clothes from their bodies, leaving their skin clammy as every speck of hair stuck fast. Then, there it was: a great bull whale, a monstrous beast nearly as large as the ship. 'We're rich, boys,' came the cry as they laid eyes on such a prize. The oil, the meat, the bones... even the stories would make them a fortune!

And so they began their bloody work. Arrows, bolts, and harpoons thudded and sank into the beast's flanks like feathers on a bird. The beast did not cower meekly as they assailed it. Its massive prow of a snout slammed into the ship again and again, nearly knocking the sailors off of their feet and into the drink. Topmen were thrown from the mast into the waters below, their cries for help turning into screams as the sharks, drawn in by the smell of so much blood, began their grim feast.

Despite the peril, despite the madness of it all, the crew stayed their course. The great whale weakened and Harald aimed his harpoon, a bloodthirsty grin gleaming white in the reflection of the lightning. What Harald did not know, was that the most dangerous monster of all was right behind him...

You see, Harald was not the only one who had taken an interest in the barber's daughter. His own captain, Blacktooth Jack, had long fancied Eoldad, but no woman could stand the sight and smell of rotgut-blackened teeth. Jack knew that he would have no chance with Eoldad when compared to Harald. On that stormy night, in the midst of thunder and rain and ragged screams, the hunter finally became prey. As Harald aimed his harpoon at the whale, he never saw Jack's own harpoon pierce the back of his skull and go through his eye.

The crooked villain grabbed hold of Harald's falling body and cast it over the side. In the midst of all the running and fighting, no one in the crew saw the treachery that had transpired. Harald fell into the waters, the light already fading from his remaining eye as he sunk below the waves. Water poured into his open mouth and the sharks circled this newest piece of meat. The greatest hunter the waves had ever seen now reduced to sharkbait...

And just like that, the sharks scattered like naughty children. Out of the gloomy depths below, where no sunlight ever reaches, something grasped at Harald and pulled him down. It was the hair of the great sea goddess, Umberlee. Some of you might know her as the 'Mother of Sea Monsters', a being of destruction and depthless cruelty to match her black eyes. Umberlee whispered to the dying man, her words carried on bubbles in the water.

"You have slain many of my children, finless hunter. I should tear you to pieces and scatter your flesh to feed my pets. And yet, there is no denying your skill. I offer you life, and revenge, if you become one of mine."

Betrayed and dying, Harald took her offer with the bubble of breath escaping from his lungs. Umberlee grinned, rows of teeth gleaming in the dark. She twisted Harald's body, turning him into a monstrous whale. The harpoon in his skull and eye changed with him, becoming a single gnarled tooth that lanced from his snout. On that stormy night, one beast died and another was born.

Now, Harald prowls the deep waters between the isles, hunting for ships. Any hunters who do not pay Umberlee's tithe are hunted by Harald and his bony spear." Kellon stands up his own spear for dramatic emphasis. "Take care when you sail in open waters with those who curse the goddess or her children... You might just hear the tip of his horn knocking on the bottom of your boat." He whacks the wooden shaft against his shell, trying to replicate the sound of something colliding with a ship's timbers.

[RandomWombat]

Though his telling does not hold the camp enraptured, they lean forward in interest to hear the tale. The old storyteller wears a smile as Kellon reaches the conclusion."That's two stories I've never heard before then! I do enjoy tales on the origin of monsters."

"Reminds me of a little story of our own," a woman says, quietly tapping her fingers on the polished and carefully maintained wood of a fiddle in her lap. "No sea monster, but a lake monster is close, hm?" She walks over from the other fire and elbows a man next to her, who stands up a little straighter. "You know this one, do you not?"

As the woman and one of the larger men with an accordion begin to play, the man begins to speak in rhythmic song form.

"Now listen weary travelers,
I have a tale to tell,
It may just save your lives, but only if you listen well.
'Cause up beyond Vallaki
And just around the way,
There's a sign that says,
'Beware, the Beast of Zaro Lake!'

They say Lord Strahd got curious and bit a river trout,
Now she drank so many sailors, she's bigger'n a house,
Her teeth are sharp as scissors,
Her claws they are like knives,
And if you think she's ugly wait till you see her insides!"

The Vistani around the campfire join in as a chorus, apparently all quite familiar with the song.

So, don't you sail and don't you row and certainly don't you swim,
'Cause if you aren't careful you'll see'yer fate turn grim!
She'll drain you dry, and spit you out. You'd better stay away!
Heed the sign that says, 'Beware the Beast of Zaro Lake!'"

At this point another man steps forward, taking up the tale in a deeper, rumbling voice.

"Some say she's a demon, crawled up from the Abyss!
Felt so at home in Barovia, thought nothin' was amiss.
And if you wade into the water to seek her foul pact,
You'll cast your soul upon your line,
Then watch it drift home black!

Don't you sail and don't you row and certainly don't you swim,
'Cause if you aren't careful you'll see'yer fate turn grim!
She'll drain you dry, and spit you out. You'd better stay away!
Heed the sign that says, 'Beware the Beast of Zaro Lake!'"

The story goes on, each teller spinning a new, outlandish yarn of the origin of the Beast - some eerie, some sad, and some humorous - until eventually their song comes to a close as H'dirus brings over a cask that smells of alcohol and sets it down beside them. The meat cooking on the spits has come to a fine color, and he pours a single mug which is passed around among the gathered Vistani - and offered to Kellon and his companions.

"Help yourselves, my friends. Madame Eva's own personal moonshine recipe!" H'dirus declares. The proffered mug smells strong enough to put hair on even a tortle's chest. It's no wonder each of the circle has taken only a tiny sip or a careful swig.

Gweyir takes the tiniest of taste tests and makes a face at the taste. "Hoo boy. Yeah, making an executive decision, none of this for Spider. Don't even know if 'e can drink it."

"Aww!" the disappointment in Spider's voice fades as it takes a whiff of the drink being passed down the line to Kellon and recoils. Retracting the complaint, Spider settles back down to nurse the flank of deer.

"So is this Zaro Lake?" Gweyir asks, nodding behind her at the lakefront. "And is there really a monster there?" The stories and songs seem to have moved her mind onwards, and away from her brother.

"No, Tser Pool this is," the storyteller answers. "Lake Zarovich is up north, past the town of Vallaki. Shortened to Zaro Lake by locals, and the superstitious who believe the devil's name brings bad luck. Some call it by Sorrow Lake," his tone dips down and becomes more serious. "Whether indeed there is a monster, I do not know. But superstitious fishermen are known to abduct lone travelers, to cast out human sacrifices into the lake. Believe it slakes the Beast's dark thirst."

[Prehysterical]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I was tempted to do The Beast of Pirate's Bay for my own story and didn't know enough landmarks. Now, I regret not doing it first.

Kellon enjoys the ballad, trying hard to remember the words to take back with him. He probably won't remember the whole thing, but he can at least try.

When offered the moonshine, Kellon takes a sniff and gives a light snort. It certainly smells stronger than any drink he has ever sampled! Mindful of sharing the mug, Kellon takes his swig and gasps at its icy heat. "By the Trident, that's got a kick! I've known some seadogs that would murder for stuff this strong."

Passing on the mug, Kellon takes the opportunity to ask, "So, speaking of this Pool, we were looking for a young girl upstream earlier. Lass of about thirteen summers. You seen anyone near here or the river like that?"

[RandomWombat]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Good thing you didn't, else I'd be out of material!

The mug, near empty after traveling the full circle, makes its way back to H'dirus. The peddler raises the mug in toast and downs the last of its contents, screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head. "Hoohoo! You ain't wrong, visitor."

As the topic shifts towards the missing girl, the Vistani look amongst one another, discussing things. "You seen anyone in the water while you were fishing?" "No, nothing." "Sorry."

Until at last the accordion player raises a hand and snaps his fingers. "I remember. Girl come through couple days ago. Tried to warn her to be careful, but she'd have nothin' from us. Was going north."

"Ooh, that's not good," H'dirus chimes in. "There's the witch coven up there, and the fishermen looking for sacrifices to the lake monster. Lone girl going that way would be in for trouble."

[Prehysterical]

Looking obviously concerned, Kellon leans forward and asks, "Could you take us to where you last saw her? Her parents are worried sick about her."

[RandomWombat]

"Yeah. Sure," the man sets down his accordion against the side of the tent behind him. "It ain't far."

With Gweyir getting up from her seat to follow, and Spider leaving behind its withered husk of venison thoroughly drained, the group sets out back up the road towards the bridge. The pathway is not very well cared for, more of a hunter's game trail than a proper road. It slops up as they move south.

Even a single swig of the moonshine is enough to leave Kellon with a buzz, the world feeling a little fuzzier, like it's covered in static. The tramping of their feet on the road is broken as Gweyir asks, "Thought she was going north?"

"Yeah. Passed by the crossroad just up here, but our way ain't the main road. Barovians tend to avoid our campsites."

The four arrive at the top of the hill, where a grim structure stands overlooking the road. An old wooden gallows creaks in a chill wind that blows down from the high ground to the west. A frayed length of rope dances from its beam. The well-worn road splits here, and a signpost opposite the gallows points off in three directions: BAROVIA VILLAGE to the east, TSER POOL to the northwest, and RAVENLOFT/VALLAKI to the southwest.

Up the road to Ravenloft and Vallaki, the road is better maintained, heading up onto less muddy ground than down at the riverside. The northwest fork slants down and disappears into the trees behind them, while the eastern fork leads to the bridge, distantly visible from here only about a town's block away.

Across from the gallows, a low wall, crumbling in places, partially encloses a small plot of graves. The stones are covered in dust, and a layer of grime from the Mists. It's too far to make out if any names are engraved on these graves, most likely belonging to those hung upon the gallows.

"She went up the road that way," the Vistana man points up the main road to the higher ground.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon is starting to regret sampling that moonshine before taking a walk. He feels like a fresh sailor getting his sea legs. He nods to the man in thanks. "Thanks for the help. Your hospitality is appreciated." Looking to Gweyir, Kellon asks, "Shall we move up just a bit? I feel like I need a place to sit down."

[RandomWombat]

"Sure, I guess we can sit on... the gallows," she answers, stepping forward. The structure is foreboding, but it's that or gravestones. Or the ground. Gweyir pulls herself up into a seat on the edge of the wooden platform.

"I'm gonna head back down and grab some venison 'fore it's all gone. Stay safe!" with a wave over his shoulder, the Vistana man starts walking carefully back down the trail to the encampment. It looks like he's a bit buzzed from the drink as well.

[Prehysterical]

For his own part, Kellon has no compunctions about sitting on the ground. He just didn't want to do it in the middle of the road. Kellon sits opposite of Gweyir. "Sorry, lass, but that moonshine was stronger than what I am used to. Don't want to stumble into trouble in a buzz, do we?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Would a short rest allow Kellon to beat the buzz?

Assuming that nothing disturbs them, spending a hit die to heal: (1d8+1)[8]

Constitution roll, if necessary: (1d20+1)[21]