Curse of Strahd Solo Run (IC)

[RandomWombat]

The old woman cranes her neck back, at an angle that seems almost unnatural - just on the edge of what could be played off as a trick of the eye. A crack of a smirk twitches at the edge of her mouth. "Oh, but those are the cakes, my lovely. Mincemeat Pies just doesn't have the same ring as Dream Pastries. Hmhmhm. A little saleswoman's trick. But I assure you, they are everything you've heard described." There is a mischievous, dangerous twinkle in her eyes.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon fervently fights the urge to look behind him, sticking to the role that he is playing. He coughs awkwardly in embarrassment. "Oh, well then, I apologize for my ignorance. Y'see, I was raised in the isles and we didn't have any flour to make any pastries. Lots of fish and coconuts and such, sure, but honestly, most of the time dinner just ends up on a stick, anyway. 'Dessert' was not in our vocabulary.

So, do you grow your own wheat or do you buy it from one of the noble families in the area? Obviously not from here, so I don't know who is who and who owns what."

[RandomWombat]

"A good business woman can't reveal all her secret recipes," the old crone waggles a finger, continuing to pull the cart with ease using only one hand. "But if you're so curious about the quality of our ingredients? All naturally sourced, purchased or traded from local families." She lowers her hand and turns her eyes once more to the road ahead.

"My daughters and I live at an old mill. Grind everything up and bake the goodies ourselves, fresh and warm every morning." There is a dry tittering laugh from deep down in her throat.

[Prehysterical]

The tortle holds up his hands placating. "I meant no disrespect, marm. Just interested in the process, that's all. Just the idea of grinding plants up and have it turn into something completely different when placed in a fire... If saying this makes me more uppity than a tavern bard, so be it, but it almost has its own sort of magic to it. Not exactly the sort of thing you get to see happen on a ship."

"Well, if you have more than one daughter, why don't you have any accompany you when you're out and about? The townsfolk have been going on about undead and bandits and blights... Were my own mother still alive, I wouldn't want her out alone in such." Kellon looks backward as if in reflection of the thought, but he wants to check on Gweyir's status.

[RandomWombat]

"Don't you worry about granny Morgan, dear, she knows how to take care of herself," the old woman answers as they reach the other side of the bridge. The wheels gain purchase upon the dirt road again, and roll along more quietly. "Maybe even a touch of magic of her own, hmm. And besides, I wouldn't want any Vistani ruffians who lay eyes on my little beauties to get any ideas."

Behind them Gweyir is still walking along behind the cart. Spider slips out from underneath the bridge and creeps along low, into a ditch on the side of the road. Things are more sparsely forested here, a few bushes and thickets, with the forest about twenty feet offroad to their right where the same crags they slept under last night curve around and begin to shrink as the land rises up to meet them.

Up the road ahead, an old crumbling wall can be seen. The remains of a fortress of some kind, with a large gate overlooking a crossroads.

"Do the three of you get many visitors out there at the windmill?"

"Yes, once in a while. Customers who just can't wait for a taste, can't wait for old grandma Morgan to come back into town. So they make the hike up to knock on our door."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon makes a show of feeling for his waterskin before sighing. "Damn it, looks like I left my waterskin back at the tavern. Could use a drink..."

He goes backward and asks Gweyir in a low voice, "Let me see your waterskin. You never checked the wagon, did you?"

[RandomWombat]

Looking over at him, Gweyir shakes her head. "Not besides what we both saw. I thought you had something in mind," she takes the waterskin from her belt and turns it over to him.

"I heard they have a lovely vineyard 'cross the river in the west," the old woman prattles on. "It's been so long since I had any wine."

[Prehysterical]

Looking at her rather crossly, Kellon accepts the waterskin and takes a reasonable enough drink to justify his excuse. He struggles to keep his voice down as he hands it back. "Yes, I did. I talk to her, you jump into the wagon and check while she is distracted." Aloud, he says, "Thank you, lass. I suppose I will owe the next round."

Going back to the front alongside the woman, Kellon asks her, "Well, if you want wine that badly, why don't you go to the vineyard and make an arrangement? Maybe payment of a certain number of... Dream Pastries in exchange for a bottle or two?"

[RandomWombat]

Rubbing the back of her neck, Gweyir whispers to him as she leans over to take the waterskin back, "I couldn't really poke around with her peering back at us."

As he goes back up to the old woman, she makes a disappointed tutting sound. "I'm afraid the vintner isn't so fond of my pastries. Conflict of interests, I think, see. My pastries help folks forget their pains, his wine helps folks forget their pains."

Their little group soon approaches the gate. A raven lands atop the wall and caws, causing the old woman glance up and scowl at it. The old wall of stone bricks stretches between two large hills, where watchtowers are erected. One of them has fallen down the side of the hill, one of its legs rotted away too much to hold its weight. Along the top of the wall is a walkway for soldiers to man parapets, but several sections are no longer traversable - save to the birds.

The gate itself is made of wood. With the mechanism to open and close it easily inaccessible above, someone has forced it open and propped a stone in place beneath each half of the wooden gate, to keep it that way.

There are a few abandoned houses and cottages around the crossroads, as though there were once a tiny hamlet here. Down the road through the gate, Kellon can see the tall figure of the windmill standing against the backdrop of a wide forest. Between the gates and the windmill, and all across the open space, are stretches of farmland accompanied by farmhouses of varying maintenance and decline.

The other way, down the road to the east, is a wide open plateau. It rests at the top of the craggy cliffs Kellon saw from below. Another, foreboding set of gates stands down the road, and beyond them massive castle spires. The clouds above seem to dip down from the sky to swallow the very upper reaches of the spires, swirling around and between them like sea serpents through a great wreck upon the ocean floor.

[Prehysterical]

As they approach the gate, Kellon gives a reptilian hiss that is the equivalent of a whistle. "By the tides, what happened to this place?"

He has a sneaking suspicion of who might be living in the far-off castle, but they have more immediate concerns. They are almost to the windmill and Kellon does not relish the idea of the woman revealing her true identity in good (or rather, bad) company. Kellon asks Morgan, "I notice that you don't like yon bird up on the gate. Mayhaps a bit of sport would be to your liking?" He taps the butt of his crossbow. "A little friendly wager?"

[RandomWombat]

'Granny' Morgan looks back and smiles, pausing in her tracks. "A wager with little old me? What do you have in mind, dearie?"

[Prehysterical]

"Well," Kellon proposes, "your Dream Pastries cost one gold, right? Well, I have a bit of experience with a crossbow. How about for every shot that I miss on the bird, I pay you two silver? And when I finally kill the bird, you give me one of the pies and I pay you what I owe?" He pulls a coin purse from his belt and jangles it to show that it is not an empty promise. "If I'm as good as I think I am, I get a discount. If my aiming skills are sorely lacking, however, you make some extra money without any work at all!" Rubbing his beaky chin for a moment, Kellon concedes, "Actually, now that I think of it, that's rather cheap of me. How about we say five silver for every miss?"

Kellon stops and turns back to look at Gweyir. "What do you think, lass? Is that fair? Do you want in on this action?" His eyes flick between her and the wagon, struggling to make his distraction clear to Gweyir while not acting suspicious for Morgan.

[RandomWombat]

"What an interesting offer," Morgan rubs her chin thoughtfully, her mouth curled up into a wily grin. "The offer of a free sample is still good. But if you're a gambling... turtle, well, who am I to deny you your vices."

"Ugh. The bird hasn't done anything to you," the druid says in disgust, turning away. But while Kellon is between her and Morgan as she walks away, she shoots him a wink.

[Prehysterical]

It is a good thing that tortles cannot smile, for Kellon would have been hard-pressed to keep one off of his face. Instead, he gives her a scoff that almost comes out as a gargling cough. "Bah, you druids are no fun at all! More in love with feathers and mud than good old gold and silver! Your loss!"

Kellon pulls out the beat-up heavy crossbow from over his shoulder and loads a bolt into it. He takes (not-so) careful aim at the bird and fires.

Spoiler: OOC

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So, I have no idea how far the bird is, but is it fair to say more than 100 feet? If it is, then Kellon gets an automatic Disadvantage on the attack roll. Otherwise, Kellon would try to impose a deliberate Disadvantage on the attack roll. It would be nice if he could just choose to miss, but I am guessing that he needs to be at least close to make it look like he is trying. So, maybe the attack roll can instead be like a Deception check?

Attack rolls: (1d20+2)[20]
(1d20+2)[6]

[RandomWombat]

Spoiler: OOC

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I think treating the attack roll as a substitute for Deception should work fine.

With a mechanical clunk the crossbow fires, the bolt whistling past the raven atop the wall. The raven hops to the side and watches carefully, as if anticipating the next shot. "That's five silvers, then," the old woman croaks, amused at the display.

Meanwhile, Gweyir creeps around behind the wagon and reaches in. She feels through the cloth sack and begins to slowly ease it out of the cart, careful not to move the cart and cause the wheel to squeak.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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The raven is taking the Dodge action, which effectively gives Kellon Advantage on his roll.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon gives an exasperated sigh. "Should have just taken the sample... Well, I'm not handing over five silver for nothing. Let's make a small fool out of me instead of a large one."

He reloads the crossbow, going a little slow as he hears the old mechanisms creaking in the weapon, and takes aim at the bird. "This time, I'll get him. Just you watch."

Spoiler: OOC

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Attack rolls: (1d20+2)[5]
(1d20+2)[15]

[RandomWombat]

The bolt almost seems like it's going to hit home this time - much against Kellon's intent. But at the last second, the bird hops out of the way. It looks down its beak at them like a triumphant matador after staring down a bull.

Lifting the sack out of the cart, Gweyir carefully tiptoes over to the ditch, making nary a peep. She lays it into the grass and rolls it down to where Spider had been following them. Out of the corner of his eye, Kellon can see her making a few silent gestures, presumably to Spider, before tiptoeing back to where she was and readjusting the tarp so that it doesn't seem to have been moved.

"It appears that luck is not on your side today," the old woman taunts Kellon, fortunately too engrossed in the show to see Gweyir's machinations.

[Prehysterical]

You'd like to think, wouldn't you, you old crone, Kellon smirks to himself. Aloud, however, he looks between the crossbow and the bird and swears as viciously as any sailor that he's ever heard, going so far as to bang his fist against it in anger.

With a final groan of despair, Kellon slings his crossbow and begrudgingly pulls out his coin pouch. He mutters to himself in foul temper as he counts out the coins. "I've already wasted two bloody bolts on the damn thing. No sense paying you and the fletcher at the same time!" Kellon places the coins into Morgan's hand. "Here. The bird ain't dead, but you can keep your pie. Enjoy the free silver... Well, looks like that windmill of ours is right over there. Don't need us for that stretch. I'd say it's been a pleasure, but I'm ten silver in the hole for it. Maybe I'll stop by some time when I haven't lost my appetite..."

[RandomWombat]

The coin jingles into her outstretched hand, gnarled fingers with unkempt nails curling around it greedily. "Such a shame. I was looking forward to introducing you to the girls," with her other hand, she plops a Dream Pastry in Kellon's now empty claw, despite him turning it down. "In case you change your mind later. Save you the trip," she says with a grin as she picks up the yoke of the cart and begins rolling down the road through the western gates.

[Prehysterical]

"Oh... well, thank you." As Morgan leaves, Kellon makes a show of yelling at the raven. "Stupid flying rat! Go boil your head and your eggs!"

Kellon goes the other way, waiting until he is within whispering distance of Gweyir to say, "Let's move until we're out of sight, then we can examine the bag."

[RandomWombat]

Turning away, the two of them stroll back the way they came, down the road to Barovia. It isn't long until the old wall, and the abandoned cottages of the hamlet, are between them and the old crone. The 'flying rat' takes off into the air, soaring up to circle around above. It's been a long walk, and the eerie blue of Barovian sunset is beginning to overtake the sky.

Though they are further away, Gweyir still whispers, "I felt through the sack, there's definitely someone inside. They weren't moving. I tried signalling Spider to take it this way, hopefully he understood."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon's beak clacks together grimly. "So the story was true. I hope that there's something that we can do for them." They seek out Spider and the person in the sack.

[RandomWombat]

Off to the side of the road, behind some of the cottages, they find Spider lurking in the ditch. A net of webbing has been used to drag the sacked figure away from the wooden gates. "Are we done sneaking?" Spider asks in a hissing whisper.

"For now. Good job, Spider," crouching down next to the sack, Gweyir pulls away some of the webbing to clear the opening of the sack, and starts pulling it open. As she drags the sack away, the form of a young boy, no older than seven summers, lay unconscious on the ground. There are some bruises around his neck, suggesting he'd been choked out, but his chest rises and falls weakly. "Gods. This is terrible."

"Is the human okay?" Spider asks, crawling over to look. Gweyir brushes some hair away from the boy's face and checks his pulse.

"Barely. He's alive, but weak."

[Prehysterical]

It's every bit as revolting as the raven girl suggested. Kellon clenches his fists in anger before turning to Gweyir. "What should we do? I don't want to leave him in one of the cottages by himself, especially unconscious, but we also cannot take him with us to the windmill. Is there any way we can wake him?"

[RandomWombat]

"I could use some of my healing magic to get him up. But is it a good idea to go to the windmill right now?" Gweyir looks up at the fading light. "She's going to know we took the boy, and the daughters are there too. They'll be expecting us as soon as she gets there, if they don't go hunting for us."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon counters, "Gertruda has already been missing for three days. What if the witch and her daughters caught her and she's been held captive? And where are we going to go to rest?" He waves around at the forsaken hamlet. "The Vistani encampment is hours behind us and I'd rather wrestle a shark than go knocking on that castle's doors."

The tortle clacks his beak unhappily. "I'm making the assumption, of course, that the witches haven't already done Gertruda in. Do you think that we should hide in one of the cottages? The hag will think that we went back south from how we left."

[RandomWombat]

"We can't exactly help her if we're caught or killed. Maybe..." Gweyir looks around, taking stock of the hamlet. The frown on her face says she doesn't really have any better ideas on where they could find cover. Lifting a hand up, she scratches her hair underneath her hood. "I do have one idea. It involves Spider."

Spider perks up, leaning back on its body to look up at Gweyir and listen attentively.

"As far as we know, she doesn't even know about Spider. If the witches are out looking for us, they might leave their windmill empty. All we have to do is not get caught, and hope Spider has enough time to get any kids out of there."

"I can do that!" Spider volunteers confidently.

Flicking some hair out of her face, Gweyir looks over at Kellon. "What I'm not sure about is the same as you. Where we could hide, where we would meet up with Spider."

[Prehysterical]

"Well, I suppose we could hide in the woods. Then they would have to make an honest effort to find us. I sorely doubt that they will leave the windmill completely empty, though. Likely, just one of the daughters will stay behind while the rest go searching. I like the idea of Spider being our scout. So much, in fact, that it might be in our best interest to see if Spider can sneak up to the windmill after dark and do a little scouting. See what the place looks like, listen to whatever chatter he can from the witches."

Spoiler: OOC

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Don't know why I just thought of this, but did Gweyir get Anton's Cloak of Resistance? There's no way they would have buried that.

[RandomWombat]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Anton had given the Cloak to Gweyir after he identified it, so she is wearing it, yes. He hadn't kept it for himself since he never expected to end up on the frontlines.

"I'll be the best scout you ever have had, Kellon! Spider crouch and Spider sneak!"

"I bet you will, little buddy," Gweyir scratches the top of Spider's fuzzy head as she nods along with Kellon's plan. "I'm no stranger to the woods. I should be able to help cover our tracks, and conceal our hiding place."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon gives his own scratches to Spider in approval. "Do you think we can get to the woods west of the windmill before they figure it out? It's the last place they would look for us. Yes, I know, it's more dangerous for us, but it's less dangerous for Spider and it's easier for us to keep an eye on things. When we move tomorrow, we need to move fast."