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  #1066  
Old Jul 31st, 2020, 05:21 PM
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Last edited by DaniLore; Jan 14th, 2021 at 01:10 AM.
  #1067  
Old Jul 31st, 2020, 08:49 PM
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Arquiztex, Rak'ta rogue/Day 2 of Rest
right-aligned image

MORNING!

Arquiztex beams as she bounds up from the kitchen carrying a breakfast tray for the group on day two.

Now that they were sleeping in different rooms, she pulled out individual plates to set at each on of their doors. Having learned from yesterday (and having made discreet studies of their bowel movements) she had already made adjustments.

"Knock! Knock! Rise and stop meditating!" she calls at Rolen's door as she leaves him a cup of cucumber juice, and a bowl of porridge with fresh mint leaves on top.

"Knock! Knock! The wicked don't rest and neither must we!" she calls out as she places before Sylvi's door a pitcher of light ale and the most delectable fig leaves rolled with oat grains and—see how she is learning—roasted and minced mice meat!

"Knockersneitz! .... .... .... .... ................... Ha! Anticipation is a human delight unable to be explained by philosophy!" she calls out as she places a cup of chicory with honey and a dash of cinnamon, warm flat bread, red grapes, spicy peppers and thick goat cheese outside the Baron's door.

"Tap! Tap! Thud! Good morning, Sune-shine!" she calls as she place in front of Mercy's door the last plate, this one with the butter-enhanced chicory, the orange and purple parts of the carrots (who knew? but it's good for digestion!), and cucumbers cut into a creamy goat-milk kiefer.

Now ... all she had to do was wait for someone (or all of them) to answer their door and ask her about the three baby goats she was holding in a basket.

 
 

 


 

[/fieldset]



Actions: not adjusting well to this non-nocturnal schedule
 

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  #1068  
Old Jul 31st, 2020, 11:42 PM
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A new day in the mists or Springtime for Strahd in Barovia
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Rolen spent most of the first day at the church, dragging out ruined furniture to burn, painting walls, and climbing out onto the crumbling roof to patch up holes where bats or other unwanted creatures might gain entry. The ranger gathered up 10 choice pieces of broken pews about the length of his forearm to fashion into wooden stakes for his companions later, back at the inn. The work was physical but it was nice being there with some of the others helping to make this sad village a little brighter and cleaner.

The wood elf kept his door open that night to listen for any large catamounts yowling out in the night for tasty sheepdogs. He heard none. In fact, the night was quite peaceful barring the sporadic howling of wolves which he was starting to get used to.

Elves may be considered secretive by some of the other races but they were never accused of being prude however, Rolen left a loincloth on out of respect for the others. He'd noticed humans react strangely to nakedness even though everyone started life that way. They lead such short lives, maybe they feel weak without clothes. They also love power, perhaps they wish to forget the times they were helpless infants. He was finishing up the point on the last wooden stake when Arquiztex came calling with breakfast. "Thank you! I see you've already been hunting without me, are they for the wedding feast? Kind of scrawny but if that's all we can find." he nodded to the three goat kids she was carrying in a basket.

After she explained the baby goat racing event he laughed and clapped "Wonderfull! We did something similar back home with weasels or opposums. The weasels were better but would always escape and the Opposums would get scared and play dead in the middle of the race. The winner would be named honrary king, or queen, of the forrest for the fall festival. They even got their own tiny diadem to wear!" He scratched each goat behind the ears and gave their haunches a squeeze. He chuckled when Tyr bit at his fingers. "My gold is on the little guy here, he's got a big spark in there." Rolen handed the Rak'ta two wooden stakes and five gold to bet on Tyr, the Even Hoofed.


OoCRolen sharpened two wooden church stakes for each party member and will wager 5 gold on the runt of the litter. I didn't want to get too fan-servicey, the loin cloth bit was just to establish him as diferent than a human with long ears and coppery skin. He's been polite so far but doesn't exactly understand privacy, as he gets more comfortable he will start getting more familiar.
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  #1069  
Old Aug 1st, 2020, 10:45 AM
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Mercy Petreva, Human Light Cleric
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Mercy would have said she was physiologically incapable of being charmed by a ruminant. However, the minute she looks into Arquiztex's basket and sees Beshabaa's sweet little face and impeccable fashion, she is smitten.

"Oh, you preshy little weshy!" she coos, cupping the little goat's face in one hand and the hot chicory in the other. She turns and looks down the corridor at Rolen, standing there innocently in his jaunty little loincloth, and her eyes seem to go a shade darker.

"What's that you say? A diadem? Diadem?" Her brain whirls. Of course she could make a diadem. And while she's at it, an embroidered cloak. And there would be a dance, a parade!

"Sorry, Rolen. Beshabaa is going to own that little ginger like a half-orc barbarian wasting his first sewer rat," she says. Her voice is sweet, her manner polite, but her teeth clack together with fierce determination.

"Who wants rose gold hoof tips?" she croons to Beshabaa, feeding her a little bit of purple carrot. "Who wants rose gold hoof tips???"
Mercy’s Actions
OOC:
Move:
Action:
Bonus Action:
Reaction: Use Warding Flare to impose disadvantage on attacks within 30 feet.


 

 

Last edited by lostcheerio; Aug 1st, 2020 at 10:47 AM.
  #1070  
Old Aug 1st, 2020, 11:07 AM
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  #1071  
Old Aug 1st, 2020, 11:55 AM
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Day 2 Interlude
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While the breakfast Arquiztex left for Herr Doktor Wens was appreciated, he found the goat-related "festivities" distracting and beneath his dignity. He'd been hesitant about taking up Ismark's offer of lodging, but the chaos about the inn overcame his objections. The noise disturbed him in his solitary room, even with the door closed. And so with polite excuses, he moved over to the Burgomaster's house for the time being, hoping it wouldn't be so long as to cross the line from "honored guest" to "leach."

Ismark was out and about when he arrived with his spare belongings, including a sack of mostly useless books, but Ireena set him up in a comfortable guest room. As soon as he was alone and able to focus properly on his studies, he knew he'd made the right choice.

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  #1072  
Old Aug 2nd, 2020, 12:10 AM
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Arquiztex, Rak'ta rogue/Day 3 of rest
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MORNING!

Arquiztex leaped through the window and landed near Wens' bed.

"The window was open so the lizard flew in ... flap! flap!" she says parodying an owl ... or maybe a raven ... or maybe a bat, she hadn't thought that through. "Yeah, maybe I get owl flap down tomorrow. And maybe breakfast, too. No breakfast today. You too far away in this house and it too slippery on roof. If Rolen not give me those stakes—good climbing grips!—then I almost slip climbing up." She looks to see if any of this is of interest to Wens. As usual, she can't read his expressions, but she assumes probably not. "Anyhiss, so no breakfast. And so you ask, 'What is lizard doing in my bedroom?' Well, that delicate question. 'Why, you want Ireena in bedroom, maybe?' Looks like Light, but she vulnerable and needy. Recent tragedy. Appeal to magic man noble. You didn't know the lizard knew the human heart's smoochies, did you?" Still not being able to read Wens' expression, she continues. "OK, so love find a way. But I here not for love. Not for breakfast. Not for bird flap. But for book!" And here, she produces a book, in fact the book that Aggie had talked about—her family history of the rebellions and uprisings and even the beginning of Strahd that she mentioned. "Bride-girl not say when we need to return. She be busy with love and flapping. So no book. But thought you might want? OK. I go now, many things to do today and I haven't served inn breakfast yet. Please remain in correspondence. Yours faithfully, Arquiztex." she says as she climbs out the window to leave Wens behind ... but with a book, so hopefully it was a good experience for all involved. She's counting it that way at least.

Returning to the inn, she lays out the breakfasts for the others, adding some small varieties: the cloudberries she found on the previous day, peppers instead of cucumbers and zucchini instead of mice in Sylvi's fig leaves (she hoped Sylvi would forgive her, but Arquiztex was simply so busy yesterday training the goats that she simply hadn't had time to hunt mice...and they were getting scarcer around the hotel).

The two previous days had passed quickly, and Arquiztex was looking forward to the goat race. The bride and groom hadn't told her if it would be before or after the wedding, but she was ready for either and the goats were back in their pen resting before the big event. She had Exfilia, please recon the rest of this graf if I've gone a bit too faralso secured financing for the event between the three sisters and even grumpy Bidroth—50 gp for the house, money to be returned with a portion of winnings. Thankfully she was able to issue a promissory note from The Treasury of Baron Dunkelbunk (the sisters seemed to accept it ... Bildroth said they would talk later and mentioned a task that was suitable for "His Noble Baron and His Illustrious Court" which he had already passed on to "that 'Baron' of yours."

So ... that meant today was rather free. Breakfasts delivered, Arquiztex would visit the river, bathe a bit then head off to the church to see if Light needed any help. Leafy and Fiery might be there as well by the time she arrived.

"It is kind of a gloomy place, but it isn't all that bad, is it Grumpkins?" she asked as she headed along her way.



 


 





Actions: fed, groomed and generally agreeable
 

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Last edited by bananabadger; Aug 2nd, 2020 at 11:47 AM.
  #1073  
Old Aug 2nd, 2020, 04:36 PM
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Day 3 Interlude
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The day began with bloody murder. Nearly. Herr Doktor Wens was startled awake when the vampire broke through his window. Gathering magic to strike the fiend, he dimly realized it was daylight and that "the fiend" was a rambunctious lizard woman with a flapping jaw. Murder was ... suspended for the moment.

Yelling was suspended, too, when Arquiztex handed him a book — a book that might prove highly relevant to his inquiries. For that alone he was willing to overlook her impertinence.

After she left, Herr Doktor Wens' heart was pounding. Yes, some from the frightful intrusion. But much was from Arquiztex's insinuation that he was love struck with Ireena. How had she known!? Herr Doktor Wens had taken great pains to treat Ismark's sister with careful courtesy. Was the lizard the only one? Were his feelings now a subject of village gossip?

For one thing, he didn't want to start a personal rift with Ismark or threaten the young Lord Burgomaster with a scandal at the start of his tenure. For another, Wens was in no position to marry. Despite his humble background, as a tenured professor he might have made a worthy match to the daughter of a mayor. But now he had neither position, income, nor household. Besides, his singular devotion was developing and publishing his theories of magical ontology. Further, he seemed entrapped by fate into some kind of dangerous path, for now at least. He had no time for a wife and no desire to make a widow.

Despite that, he could not help but note Ireena's beauty, and yes, her vulnerability appealed to his ... inner knight? Bah! And damn the brain-rotting genre of courtly romance!, he thought. She was beautiful, as beautiful as Mercy. But where Mercy was silly and vain, Ireena had a dignity and reserve that he respected.

No, the very idea of marriage is foolish, he thought and did his best to kill passion with a thought. And as for country matters, well, he was no longer a shepherd and she was never a dairy maid.

Herr Doktor Wens put romantic thoughts out of his mind, performed his ablutions, attiring, and constitutional, and began reading Aggie's family history over breakfast. It was one of the most informative texts he'd found so far on Barovian history...

Later that evening during dinner, he gently queried Ismark and Ireena about why their father had allowed Granny to sell pies in the village – pies that were clearly enchanted – and why the old Burgomaster had allowed parents to trade away their children to the crone. It was a delicate conversation, clearly painful to them both, but revealing.

During dinner Ireena also expressed her enthusiasm for the baby goat races, declaring "her" goat the most likely winner, and speculating what she might spend her winnings on. Her passion for the sport cooled his own passion somewhat.

Still, Ireena's perfume and the rustling of her dress tortured him from across the dinner table, even as he did his best to avoid looking directly at her face all through the evening.

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  #1074  
Old Aug 2nd, 2020, 10:38 PM
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Mercy Petreva, Human Light Cleric

OOCI'm just going to pretend the whole party is there. If your character wouldn't be there, I apologize!


The wedding rehearsal is not going as planned.

right-aligned image

"No!" Mercy cries. "No, no, no," she scolds more quietly. The fiancés stand at the back of the church near the entrance. Aggie has her "fishing pants" on and Tomislav's hair looks like he's been borrowing hair supplies from the baby goats. Mercy takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "My friends, my friends, my sweet beautiful friends. This is not a do-si-do. This is not a wrestling match. This is Fate's Procession."

She unwraps Aggie and Tomislav's arms from where they are jovially entwined like a couple of square-dancers at a hoedown.

"Tomislav, bend your elbow, wrist to your belt buckle, and offer your arm to the lady. No! Not like you are a scarecrow. Drop your shoulders. Make the back of your neck long. There. Now Aggie, you put your hand -- do not link elbows! No! -- put your hand here in the crook of his arm. Now, see? He offers you his strength and protection. You hold onto him for support."

Mercy has arranged Sylvi, Rolen, Wens, and Arquiztex around the sanctuary -- each has a colored chalk circle to stand in, and a candle to hold.

She hands Tomislav and Aggie each a candle. "Now every time you come together, take his arm like that, just like that. Here you part and make your circle. Separate! Separate circles!" She points to the chalk marks she has lightly traced on the ground. "You here, you here, then you come together, pick up your flame from Madam Tor'Velys. Pick up your flame from Mr. Liadon. Now, let your flame mix! Now, you give your flame -- no, over here! Give your flame to Arquiztex, now you, light Dr. Wens' candle. No, don't linger! Just light it!"

The kids are having a great time. They're in love and everything is funny.

"Tomislav, you must keep pace with Aggie. Look, she has already gone through half this figure, and you are--"

Somehow she manages to get through through an approximation of Fate's Procession. Close enough for a cursed demiplane enthralled by an undead narcissist.

"Now, Ireena sings the wedding song..."

I really want to roll insight on Wens when Ireena is singing! But I won't! Because Mercy is clueless! But!Ireena clears her throat from beside the altar and sings in her gentle contralto:

"Happy bridegroom, Sune brings
All desired and timely things
All who suffer, all who mourn
Sune loves to lead them home.

Home return to love behold
Child to mother, sheep to fold
Bird to nest from wandering wide
Happy bridegroom seek your bride."


Mercy, carried away by the music for a moment, turns and opens her eyes to make sure everyone is being sufficiently reverent, only to find Tomislav squeezing Aggie's left cheek, not listening at all.

"My friends, that is not sufficiently reverent behavior! We are in the presence of the goddess!"

Mercy beseeches her friends in the pews. "Arquiztex, Sylvi, will you come and show them? Look, the paladin's bearing -- see it is regal, not rigid. It's a difference, here in the spine. See Sylvi's spine, it's graceful without being... no, no, you look like a scarecrow on a pole. Yes and Aggie, see how Arquiztex can shimmy, sweep, sweep, sweep along, not stomp stomp stomp. Arquiztex, can you sweep?"

Mercy’s Actions
OOC: She's trying to make it nice, and is suffering terribly from performance anxiety, but is probably coming across as priestess-zilla. Without help from Wens on the Lathander stuff, she's going to go ahead with the Sune stuff she knows.
Move:
Action:
Bonus Action:
Reaction: Use Warding Flare to impose disadvantage on attacks within 30 feet.


 

 

Last edited by lostcheerio; Aug 2nd, 2020 at 10:38 PM.
  #1075  
Old Aug 2nd, 2020, 10:57 PM
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I love the smell of mist in the morning
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Rolen was quite excited about the upcoming festivities, in fact, those small goats were all he could think of up on the old church roof. The diversions of the wedding and the race had worked wonders on his dark mood, the last two night's trances didn't bring any disturbing visions. Although his waking hours were being invaded by the visions of tiny hooves clip clipping throughout his mind. He found some beets growing in a plot on the church grounds and pulled a few to take to the goats.

The wood elf hopped over the farmer's fence and sat in the dirt feeding the spunky little creatures raw beets and laughing when they tried headbutting him. Rolen cast his spell and told Tyr they would have a better chance knocking him over of they worked together. Moments later all three baby goats charged him and piled on top of a laughing elf. The farmer came running out because of the ruckus they made and found his goats, mouths stained red from the beetroot, jumping and bleating over an elf shaking and laughing like a fool. The poor man jumped higher and screamed louder than any human Rolen had ever seen!

Oh Gods! The rehearsal! Mercy will be furious if I'm late! Rolen apologized to the farmer for causing a scene with his adorable goats and raced back to the church of the Morninglord. Mercy was in her element, organizing and smoothing this, adjusting that. Humans were very ceremonious he was learning. Elves did things differently, for one they didn't do weddings. He'd heard about them from stories and travelers but the elves often had many partners. If they dedicated themselves to only one they may announce it but there wouldn't be a grand display. There were enough feasts and festivals that such things weren't needed. But, Rolen was fascinated by the ordeal. Everyone was coming together to share and celebrate young love. He stood in his circle with dust and mud falling around him, held his candle as instructed, and smiled watching the young Barovians fawn over each other while Mercy tried her hardest to make them graceful and elegant.

Back at the inn, the ranger decided to try out a bath. He didn't understand what was wrong with the flowing water of a river or waterfall but humans swore by these baths and they seemed fairly clean, most of them anyway. After submerging himself in the steamy water he understood why Mercy looked forward to the sensation. The aches in his muscles sloughed away like the goat-dirt on his skin. After a good soak, he came out feeling like his skin was shining brighter and his hair dark as midnight in Barovia. Rolen slipped on some pants, threw on a shirt, and went down to the common area to enjoy some drinks by the fire. He grabbed his pan flute to practice on the captive audience of the inn before the ceremony tomorrow.
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  #1076  
Old Aug 3rd, 2020, 12:09 PM
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The day before the wedding dawns.

At least, you think it does. This is Barovia, and the sky never clears. However, it does get lighter. The hunting party congregates outside the inn, and whichever party members are going are joined by Milosh, Blazh and Radu.

Just before you leave, Bildrath wanders up.

"I know you lot are skinnt," he says. "If you're after some cash, like I already told some of you, I got a line on these four packs somebody... took from me. If you're going out anyway, and you could bring them back to me, I'll give you 25 gold per pack. Supposed to be a ways off that way, he says, along a little trail an hour or so past the river, and I do not have time to be dragging out there checking out rumors. Anyway...." And he shrugs and wanders back to his shop.
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  #1077  
Old Aug 3rd, 2020, 05:06 PM
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  #1078  
Old Aug 3rd, 2020, 06:06 PM
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Mercy Petreva, Human Light ClericMercy mightily approves of the pillars, the canopy, and she is beyond delighted by the maypole.

"Sylvi, it's absolutely perfect," she says, tucking in a stray piece of bark. "I never thought I would see something so pretty in this grey old moldy town." She beamed as she bent a branch an inch or two farther into place. "Those lucky kids -- this is fancy enough for Daggerford!"

When the decorations are installed Mercy asks Sylvi, "Would you mind helping me with something else? Okay. This is going to sound weird but hide your helmet somewhere. Wait, let me get a good look at it, really concentrate. I'm not sure..." Mercy holds the helmet out at arm's length and studies it from all angles, and then hands it back. "Okay, hide it somewhere in the church but not a place I would look. Or know. Or ever think of! Hide it someplace hard!"

As Sylvi is walking away she'll call out, "And not the undercroft! And not in Donovich's room! That's the first place I would look!"

When Sylvi is gone she closes her eyes and prays, "Sune, Precious Goddess of Love, show me the way... to Sylvi's helmet." When she enters the church she sees Sylvi leaning up against the entrance to the sanctuary, examining the head of her glaive, very casual. "Show me the way..." Mercy breathes, and with her eyes closed she tries to reach out with Sune's love. The storage room. She felt pulled by an orange light. She pointed to the storage room and raised her eyebrow at Sylvi but the paladin had a poker face and gave no clue.

"I think it's in here." And it was, outlined in an orange glow, behind a barrel and under a tarp. Mercy smiled. She came out of the storage room wearing it, and returned it to Sylvi proudly. "I think I can also find any helmet of any type, if I ask for that. Pretty good, right? I found the prayer in that stupid Lathander book. I mean-- it's not stupid. But-- well, it's about time to get ready for the hunt. But Sylvi, are you sure you're ready to exert yourself like that? Let me examine your wound again and make sure you're ok."

If Sylvi will let her, she'll fuss over the damage, and drop a Healing Word just to be sure. "You gave us a terrible scare, you know. I'm not sure any of us will recover from that one very quickly, and you're the one that got bitten!"
  #1079  
Old Aug 3rd, 2020, 06:33 PM
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Day 4 Interlude
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"No, definitely not. I'm afraid I have too much work to do," said Herr Doktor Wens to Ireena as she pestered him for the umpteenth time to join the hunt. "But a few pidgeons for a pie would be delightful! And Ismark is too busy to go. Won't you, please?," she said with a little side eye and slightly pouty lips. He nearly faltered.

But then, he was so close to mastering certain psychovitalic applications. And Mercy had already shoehorned him into being part of the wedding ceremony. The practice the day before had wasted hours. He must stay strong. Old Chondathan: "Wherever there is mischief, there is sure to be a priest and a woman in it."Wo immer es Unheil gibt, gibt es sicher einen Priester und eine Frau, he thought.

"Excuse me, Lady Ireena, I have certain tasks before the wedding that cannot wait," he said and walked toward his guest room, feeling her eyes and annoyance on his back.

Later that evening as he was freshening up for the wedding, Herr Doktor Wens reflected that his decision to eschew the hunt had been the correct one. During the afternoon, he had completed developing a spell that would help him discover Strahd through the old fiend's disguises, among other uses. A very useful application, indeed.

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I have taken the Oath of Sangus.

Last edited by Oakie; Aug 3rd, 2020 at 06:39 PM.
  #1080  
Old Aug 3rd, 2020, 08:27 PM
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Old Shepherd
right-aligned image
Leaning on his crook, the stooped shepherd slowly makes his way through the crowd which has gathered for the race. "Excuse me, excuse me," he murmurs leaving a trail of feet inconsiderately tapped by his crook and a smell of goaten sweat. With some effort, the shepherd pushes his way through the front of the crowd where the most eager and most belligerent villagers jealously guard their vantage positions at the edge of a small field whose grass has been cut to reveal a wide, circular track with a tall observation tower in the middle. "Is this where the race will be, young 'uns," the shepherd asks of some teens at the front of the crowd. They ignore him.

But his sharp, bony elbows and a few judicious applications of his crook to groins eventually allows him to break through to the front and then past it. "You where?" challenge one of the teens. The shepherd ignores him.


And then, the shepherd suddenly turns to face the crowd and rips off his cloak. To reveal a stunning lizard dressed in Aggie's wedding dress, a few alterations allowing the Rak'ta's muscular 6 feet plus to fit into the dress, which is really more of a skirt on her.

left-aligned image


"Boys!" she shouts! "Barovians!" she calls out flirtatiously. "Villains and Vistani! Citizens and countryfolk! Brutes and Bourgeois! Pundits and pacers ... Are. You. Ready. For. Some. Goat. Race!" she hollers to stir up the crowd as she releases bolts of magic missile spelllightning from her claws that purposefully singe the faint traces of the beard on the lout of a teenager in the front row and then skim over the heads of the crowd to strike a blanket covering a plank placed horizontal to the crowd. The blanket burns at its edges until it has singed away at the edges holding it against the plank and falls to the ground revealing the sign painted in bright (but not garish—for nothing about a goat race can be too garish) colors:

LEGENDS OF THE GOAT RACE!

As the crowd watches, Arcane trickster mage hand with the static from Barovia making it bony visiblea bony hand appears by the sign and points to the word GOAT, pauses as the crowd picks up the cheer in response "GOAT!" and then points to the word RACE and waits for the crowd to respond with an equally loud cheer "RACE" ... and then it begins with the hand moving slowly back and forth between the two words and more rapidly and more rapidly in proportionate response to the volume of the crowds cheer, leading to a culmination of a roar as the words collide together in the crowd's lusty yells "GOAT-RACE! GOATRACE! GOTRACE! GOTACE! GOACE! GOACE! GACE! GACE! GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

And then ... the hand abruptly stops. And points behind the crowd, back to the direction of the track where Arquiztex has climbed up to the observation tower with three baby goats under her arms. "Fine folk of Barovia!" she yells, "I bring you ... our champions!"

Beshabaaa
left-aligned image

"First ... in the red cape, with the hoofs of gold rose ... ITTTTTTTTT'SSSSS BEEEEEE-SHAAAA-BAAAAAAAAAAA! The lady of Doom and ZOOOOOOOM!" and she holds the golden haired goat into the air.


Asbaaadeus
right-aligned image
"Next ... the heir apparent. The prince of prancing. The Uber-Ungulate ... Azzzzzzzz-Baaaaaaaa-DEEEEEE-Usssssssssssssss" she screams as she holds up the young speckled goat.


Tyr
left-aligned image

"And who's this little guy. Surely a runt? Surely a loser. Surely a non-contender. What? What did you say little guy?" and Arquiztex theatrically leans into the small, gangly goat and soon reveals a shocked expression on her face as she mimes hearing him speak "This little guy says he will trample his rivals, bury them in the mud, tiptoe over their snouts and LAP THEIR ARSE! Give. It. Up. For. TyyyyyyrRRRRRRRR. The. Eeeeeeeven. Hand. Ed!"


And with these introductions made, Arquiztex gathers the baby goats in her claws and leaps off the tower to shouts and gasps from the crowd before she and the goats begin to feather fall, but with goatsgently float to the crowd as Arquiztex rips off the bridal dress to reveal something that could only be described as a cross between a jockey's uniform and a wedding trousseau. The outfit is so striking that only a few catch her winsome double-eyed wink as she gradually kisses the ground and the goats, whose little legs were peddling in the air with enthusiasm, greet the land with tiny leaps and bleats.

"Ohhhhhh! And there's more. The money stand is open for five more minutes to get your bets in because ... you might want to change them now with this" *jazz claws* "new news. New entrants. New contenders ... Mama Goat!" Arquiztex says with a flourish and a point to a larger doe calmly eating grass in the background. If Arquiztex had expected the crowd to erupt in excitement, then she had miscalculated. But she didn't, and this lizard wasn't miscalculating—Mama was just her warm-up, her Nathan of Gaza to her big reveal. "And other entrant ..." she says with a dramatic pause. "You know him well." she says bringing her voice to the lowest stage whisper that still carries across the crowd. "Some love him. Some would die for him. Some despise him. But. He runs this race. And this town," a pause...an ominous pause, well at least as ominous a pause as a lizard in makeshift racing color lingerie can make. "Meet. Sucky Maximillian. Count von Ratovich!" and with this, Arquiztex pulls a large rat out from her ... well, it's difficult to say where she was hiding that in her scant clothing, but she somehow did, and the rat, dressed in a little black cape with a big "0" sewn on the back, squeals and squirms in her hand until a bolt of white lightning appears to descend from the sky and seize the rat in its claws and abscond with it to the skies as its squeaks of protest grow faint in the clouds. Mr. Gummen (the lizard's sometimes loyal, but always long-suffering, familiar) had been waiting for his cameo—and his dinner—all day."Oh ... No Sucky tonight!" shrugs Arquiztex. So, she asks turning back to the crowd and raising her voice to as loud as she can while raising all the frills on her body. "Are you ready for some Goat Race!"

"Now ..." says Arquiztex holding up her hands to calm the crowd. "Race begin in 5 minutes. Baron Wens, who cannot be here, has sent his she's an erudite iguana; she knows what she should be saying, but Wens and magic...well it all flusters her at timesregressions and has asked us to welcome the Lady Ireena who will start off the race in his honor." None of this, of course, is true. But how can love find a way without an amphibious matchmaker at the needed moments? "Time to make final bets. Information about our goats posted in handbills for those literary pundits. But for the real fans ... feast your eyes on these fine babies and your gut will tell you who to choose!" and with that, Arquizteix coquettishly sways to the starting line, blowing a kiss to the teenage boy who challenged her shepherd self and waving to the crowd. "Five minutes!" she shouts, as Lancelot herds the babies and Mama Goat to the starting line. That much was true ... in 5 minutes the goats would be off!

 
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Last edited by bananabadger; Aug 4th, 2020 at 12:25 AM.
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