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  #31  
Old Jan 27th, 2020, 08:46 AM
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Dramoth “Nova”
Male Tiefling Bard

 



Nova waved at their comrades of circumstance and cleared his throat to speak, "Hey! So, I think Pottinger just met Jerrof’s mother, and I base that presumption purely on the polite greeting she offered to me which was similar in tone to Jerrof’s, and I think I notice the family resemblance based on the cantankerous cadence they both speak with. Again, I am presuming, I have nothing hard to base it on. It’s just a gut feeling. Also, that likely means you’ll have to start calling the Professor “Father” or “Daddy”, or some such."

Quickly ushering the group in the direction of the inn, the Blue Bastard continues, "Further, the Vistani responsible for the really hospitable invite for Ani and I seem to be just down that main road. A Madam Eva is who we are looking for, and she should be able to give us a clue of where in the Forgotten Realms we are. Further, confirmation the ruler of these dead lands goes by the Dread Lord, and his minions go through the streets at night making short work of any stragglers. My suggestion? Get a room, as the inn keep how long until the dread lord’s minions come out, and see if we can make it to Madame Eva to ask what the hell is going on here. Sound like a plan?"

Nova continues to herd the group towards the inn. He wanted a room and a decent sleep with little chance of something dreadful trying for their lives.





OOC Here we go….

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  #32  
Old Feb 4th, 2020, 12:03 PM
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Sir Jerrof Talmaryan
Human Purple Worm Knight

 
Calling him father like that, a family pet name, yet enough to make him wince now. Jerrof shivered himself, though not for the same reason as Desdemona. "Something haunts this place indeed, dear granddaughter. And I intend to rip it out at the core." And yet, why? What interest does he have in this place? Why does it matter?

With the distraction of their companions, in tact and alive, he doesn't have to answer that right now.

He didn't realize he had missed Nova, yet instantly feels the need to slap him. Jerrof loved his mother. She was a stern woman, but everything he says is accurate. "Given that my mother has been dead longer than you're alive, for your sake and her's I pray she didn't just politely greet you. You're not long for this world if that's the case. She wields a hammer and a pinwheel with amazingly similar accuracy and results." Ushered onward, they go to the Inn, of a sort. Nova fills them in, mentioning the Vistani. That words rings a bell, reminding Jerrof of the stories everyone told upon their arrival athte hosue

"The Dread Lord? I've only heard 'The Devil Strahd.' I suppose the two are not mutually exclusive, though. One can be a Dread Lord and a Devil all at once, though hopefully in a more metaphorical sense. I daresay I do not know what a Dread Lord is except that I oppose it. We met a weeping woman, her child taken by the Devil Strahd. To his castle, there," he points to the oppressive castle above, "and the Burgomaster is involved. That part I question; we should investigate the Burgomaster here in the Inn, and see his nature. And to think, I came here to hunt wolves." Her shakes his head.

"Let us go to the inn and carouse as we can. We are but weary travelers, after all, and they may have answers for us."
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  #33  
Old Feb 4th, 2020, 02:18 PM
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Anikara Dark Angel
Female Halfling Paladin/Shadow Sorcerer

 


Anikara followed quietly along behind Jerrof. She was a bit irked at the woman for calling her "cute". The last person to call that received a kick in the groin. Granted, she had to climb on a chair first, which was somewhat demeaning, but it was worth it. In this case, she was sure the woman meant nothing by it. But halflings as a whole despised the term as a lack of respect.

"I'm not sure how much I trust the woman's story. It could be a day or a month or a year since the girl vanished..." Ani griped to Jerrof. "The girl could be long dead for all we know."

The arrival of Nova and Pottinger cheered her up a bit. "I'm glad you haven't managed to get yourselves killed while we were gone," she managed to get in after Nova's overly dramatic banter concluded. "Did you say the Vistani? I don't think I want to meet them again after our last visit. That boy tried to cast a spell on me!"

Ani turned to Desdemona and whispered, "... He was kind of cute, though. Teehee." Then she blushed furiously, realizing her faux pas.

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Old Feb 9th, 2020, 07:40 AM
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Strahd. This time, the name shot through Pottinger's mind like a crossbow bolt, just as Jerrof uttered it, sailing toward some unknown target in his subconscious. Dread Lord, again conjured psychic pangs of annoyance. Something wasn't right, and the old wizard knew it, but he seemed unable to get a bead on the problem. He brushed it aside, and listened to the plight of the stolen child. "He's likely better off...", he muttered to himself, looking around at the depressing town. His eyes wandered in the direction of the castle.

Oddly, he was distracted by a titter from Ani, of all people, but it was enough to return his thoughts back to the group. The small warrior hadn't made any real happy sounds since Rimsky was last seen. The old wizard realized it might be a good idea to bring him back to this plane, and soon. With talk of boogeymen and night-snatchings, another set of eyes was probably something worth considering.

"Answers, perhaps," Pottinger said to Jerrof, "but I am finding what these folk are not telling us to speak volumes. Wolves, of a sort, roam these streets, but not the kind you came to hunt." Pottinger frowned, returning to his thoughts, and walked with the others.





 
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Old Feb 13th, 2020, 12:47 AM
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Sir Jerrof Talmaryan
Human Purple Worm Knight

 
"No indeed, dear Ani, that is why we seek answers from the Burgomaster or someone knowledgable on the town we find ourselves. Which, do we know where we are? What the name of this village is?" He ponders, finding it odd to be somewhere and not know its name. What was the village the professor had been sent to find? Barovia? Was this it?

"These Vistani: what are they? A race? A tribe? Or merely an organization?" Many questions. The Professor offers his own thoughts on the matter, and what they seek: and the dangers that hide in these streets. "No, indeed, good Professor: I think there is much in these mists that is concealed." They head onward, and outward. "I do wonder, how much of it is related to this Dread Lord, and how much is simply the nature of this land?"
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Old Mar 3rd, 2020, 07:36 PM
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Taproom; Blood of the Vine Tavern; The Village of Barovia; Early Afternoon; Day 2
A single shaft of light thrusts illumination into the main square, its brightness looking like a solid pillar in the heavy fog. Above the gaping doorway, a sign hangs precariously askew, proclaiming this to be the Blood on the Vine tavern.

"It is a sign from Lathandar," Desdemona states as she looks at the sunlight that has fought its way through the haze. She stops at the door and holds her hand out to Nova's chest to prevent him from entering with the others. Once the two are alone, she addresses the bard, "Nova... Your feud with my father... It needs to end. He is my family and when you insult him and his line, you insult me as well. I know he is gruff and set in his ways, but this infighting... I know he will protect you with his life, for that his duty. We are in a dangerous place and I need to know that we can rely on each other. Please..." Then, with a pat on Nova's shoulder, she turns to follow the others inside.

The interior of the tavern is not overly large; only about sixty feet square. It looks like it was once a rather finely appointed tavern, but it has grown shabby over the years. A blazing fire in the hearth gives off only a scant amount of heat. Behind the bar, a pudgy barkeep takes a glass from a group on his left, wipes it clean with a cloth, sets it among a group to his right, and moves on to the next one. Near the front door, a group of three colourfully clad women are chatting. As one, they stop and turn to look at the door when it opens, and then go back to their conversation. The only other customer in the tavern is a lone man sitting closer to the fire. Like the women, he looks up from his wine when the door opens. However, his attention lingers on the group as he watches them move further into the tavern.

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Old Mar 11th, 2020, 01:10 PM
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Sir Jerrof Talmaryan
Human Purple Worm Knight

 
The Blood on the Vine. What a.... suitable name, he supposed.

Jerrof heads in, leading the pack, and takes in the place. Not the worst tavern he has ever been in, but certainly shoddy by most Cormyrian standards. None the less, he takes stock. Looking back, he realizes Desdemona and Nova are talking, finding her hand placement odd. He'll have to cut that out at the root immediately, but not now, not in front of strangers. "Nova, I think you best suited for the ladies. Or perhaps you, Desdemona? I will speak to the lone man. Professor, Ani, where will you go?" He somehow doubts Ani will do well with women outside of the confines of her martial or religious orders, and the Professor does not seem like the proselytzing type. As for himself... he could do it. He simply chooses not to.

He does not care if anyone else wants to take lead on the man. He steps forward, towards the man in the corner, but further down the bar from him. "Barkeep. What wines do you carry? I fear I will be unaccustomed to them." He looks around, his bad eye towards the young man, before setting the good one on him. "Well-met. Tell me, good sir, my companions and I got lost in the forests near here, and are uncertain where we are. What can you tell me of this place? Who is its lord? Its master?" A lie of omission is not hard, no matter how unconvincing it might be.

Jerrof offers no name, merely his curiosity.
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Old Mar 15th, 2020, 07:45 AM
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The tavern offered little warmth, both in heat from the fire, and social greetings from the few patrons that hunkered down within. Still, it was better than being outside, where it was not cold by any common definition, more that a persistent chill managed to touch the bones, and cause the joints to creek. Pottinger knew his age likely had something to do with it, but this place...this place had a curse of shadow, and little light left to reveal it. The complacency of its people was telling.

And yet, the ladies drew his eye, though not for any biological reasons. They were easily the most colorful thing he had seen since entering Barovia. In any other town, that would be a normal sight, so standard as to be boring and passed over by the eye. But here, they were a bolt of light in a bale of fog, just as the one Desdomona had claimed to be a sign for Lathandar, though Pottinger doubted any gods had an eye for this place. Even the wretched ones.

Their garb was pleasant, but not something the tragic eyes of an old man should linger on long. There was still social decorum to be observed, even here, in the waiting room of all Nine Hells. And eyes, it seemed, were in short supply for their group with Rimsky on some other plane and Jerrof's steely-but-useless orb.

Pottinger looked around the tavern for a suitable brazier, considering the fire hearth, itself.




 
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Old May 5th, 2020, 01:38 PM
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Anikara Dark Angel
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Anikara did not care for taverns. It was places like this where people got into trouble. It was a den of iniquity, debauchery and immorality; the very definition of disorder. She’d rather sleep in the street than this pit. But the rest of the group wanted to be here, so she suffered in silence.

Ani stood and waited with uncertainty as Jerrof and Pottinger went over to talk to the man. She wanted to go with them, to give the fellow a piece of her mind. Ani didn’t like folks staring at her. But she reconsidered, not wanting to cause a scene in a public place.

Ani looked over at the women in the colorful garb. She presumed they were working girls, though there weren’t many customers in the place. Perhaps she could get some information on the missing girl or the Burgomaster’s son. As neither Nova or Desi were in a hurry to speak with them, Ani took it upon herself to do so.

Ani tried to put aside her martial demeanor and act in a more girlish manner as she approached the girls. “Good evening ladies. You don't know a place where a girl can go for a good time? I’m new in town and looking for a fella who can help me out of my armor. This place doesn’t seem to have much of a selection,” she said, trying to sound worldly. “Isn’t there anyone good looking in this town? Or at least rich?”
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Old Jun 11th, 2020, 03:15 AM
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Taproom; Blood of the Vine Tavern; The Village of Barovia; Early Afternoon; Day 2
Desdemona's words give Nova pause, and something to think a bit about as the bard follows the cleric into the tavern. Normally he would make a grandiose entrance, but this time, he simply looks at Jerrof and nods his head. As Ani asks the question to the three women, Nova steps up behind her; there if she needs him, but letting the halfling take the lead for now.

The women look over at the paladin and then up to the tiefling again, giving them a quick once-over and then a dismissive, derisive snort. Other than a brief moment of surprise at seeing a halfling and a tiefling, they do not seem to be overly concerned by either Nova's or Anikara's appearance. A first for the town.

"You could try the playground," one of them states, looking back toward her companions for a bit of a laugh. "There should be something there your size to play with."

One of the others looks to Anikara with a bit more seriousness. "If you seek riches, you are in the wrong town, little one. You could try Ismark, but," and she sniggers slightly, "he is called the Lesser, so I can't guarantee anything." That sets the others laughing again and they cast a quick look back toward the lone man Jerrof is approaching before they go back to their conversation.

"Charming people," Nova mutters under his breath as he reaches out to put his hand on Anikara's shoulder in an attempt to keep her from trying to spill the blood of the women across the tavern floor.

Behind the bar, the barkeep looks up from the next glass he is cleaning toward Jerrof. The knight may have a dead eye, but there is more soul behind it than behind the two working ones of the barkeep. He stares dully at Jerrof for a moment and then turns, stoops, and brings out a bottle of wine. The purplish liquid is poured into one of the glasses in the 'to clean' pile before he sets it down at the extent of his reach. Once the glass is down, he goes back to wiping the glasses without a word.

"Don't be minding Arik. The glasses are clean," the man Jerrof is addressing states as Desdemona, who picked up the glass of wine, deposits it in front of her grandfather and then continues toward where Pottinger stands looking about, Pip close behind. "Travellers, hmm? I daresay, you must be very lost to not know where you come out after entering a wood. This land, and this town, is called Barovia. As for its master..." The man snorts a bit and takes a drink of his wine. "The master of the land... we do not speak his name if we can help it. The master of the town... I guess that would fall on me, now, since my father's death."

"Professor?" Desdemona asks as she moves up behind the wizard. "Are you alright?"

As she asks and draws Pottinger's attention, he can see over her shoulder a platter that looks to be made of brass and could serve his purposes, if he can get his hands on it.


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  #41  
Old Jun 20th, 2020, 08:18 AM
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"I...ahh...fine. I am fine, dear Desdemona." His reply was distracted, stumbling for a mere moment, but enough for the cleric to notice. We do not speak his name if we can help it...the master of the land. The words pulled on threads in Pottinger's mind, briefly breaking his attention for reasons he could not grasp. Even the urge to dwell on the odd mental hiccup was fleeting, like fine sand slipping through one's fingers. His intellectual side desperately wanted to examine this, but rest of him wanted to run from any admission such an examination would force.

He nodded, and said again "yes, I am fine." With renewed purpose, his eyes explored the tavern again. Still addressing Desdemona, he spied something that might suit his needs behind her. "I wish to call Rimsky back from the void. More eyes and ears for our stay in this uneasy place," he said in hushed tones, "I dare not close mine without a watching familiar. I'll need a suitable brazier, though, or something that can act as one in this decidedly limited establishment...there, that brass thing behind you. I wonder...well, do pardon my embarrassment at my forwardness, but..." He glanced back an Ani, who was failing to be 'one of the girls,' as it were, and turned back to Desdemona. "I wonder if you could ply your womanly charms on the barkeep to allow me to borrow that shiny platter for an hour or so?"




 
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Old Jun 23rd, 2020, 11:06 PM
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Sir Jerrof Talmaryan
Human Purple Worm Knight

 
His granddaughter delivers him wine, but Jerrof's gaze never left the barkeep. The stoicism, the silence, it was unnerving. What was going on here? Was this simpleton in charge of drinks? In charge of conversation? Jerrof did not like this. If these sisters were in charge, why had they sat this man as their barkeep? It was unbecoming of an establishment. He did not trust it. This man. By extension, the sisters.

He is dropped out of his irritation by the heavily accented voice. Barovia, then? The village and the land have the same name? Strange indeed, and so dreary. Mist-covered, it must be what some of the Dalelands were like, or places like Vaasa. And more reluctance to speak the master of the land's name: Strahd. The name is Strahd, is it not? The Devil Strahd?

"I am sorry to hear your loss... I suppose you have inherited some title, then? What am I to call you? I am Ser Jerrof Talmaryan, Purple Worm Knight at Her Majesty Raedra of Cormyr's service. I fear we are farther from home than I fear, but I do not understand. Where is Barovia? I have never read it in my readings. Perhaps the Professor can...." Looking at Pottinger, he sees the professor and Desdemona talking about something, indicating something their way. He stops himself.

"How did your father die?"
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Old Jun 23rd, 2020, 11:57 PM
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Anikara Dark Angel
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"The playground!?" Anikara growled as her hand balled into a fist. Nova's hand on her shoulder reminded her that killing the strumpet would serve no purpose. She bit her tongue and said with feinted humor, "Ha,ha, you're so funny."

Ani was about to leave when the other woman mentioned Ismark. "Ismark the Lesser? Sounds like my kind of guy."

Ani sighed heavily and followed their gaze to the man Jerrof was speaking with. Issmark didn't look the the child molester type, but one could never judge by appearances. "Is that him then? Does he like little girls..." she asked coyly. "...Little girls with green eyes and black hair?"
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Old Jul 2nd, 2020, 01:37 AM
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"This place has cast a strange spell, professor. My ears must still ring from being spirited here. And your eyes, milky with cataracts, must see a harlot where a Dawnbringer stands." Desdemona's warm smile muffled the sound of teeth grinding as she stares at the professor.

Resting a hand on the professor's, she adds, "As a courtesy for one with atrophied legs to whom standing is such a burden, I will inquire our good host for the use of such a resplendent artifact." Not wanting to cause any more of a scene then she trusted she had, Desdemona marches over to the barkeep whispering, "'ply your womanly'...if Lathander...I...argh...breath, Desdemona. Anger begets you not but misery. Pity those who live without the Light. Show them the Light as would make Him proud."

Desdemona took a deep breath, closed her eyes and murmured a prayer to Lathander. After a moment she approached the barkeep.
"Bless your town, Barovia, and bless you for your hospitality. Might I trouble you for another glass of wine and," craning her neck toward the platter, "if it isn't too much to ask, a look at that platter there. My...friend...there seems quite taken by how it sparkles. His mind isn't what it once was and the simplest things give him the greatest pleasures."

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Old Jul 7th, 2020, 10:24 PM
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Taproom; Blood of the Vine Tavern; The Village of Barovia; Early Afternoon; Day 2
One of the women look back toward Anikara and then flicks her attention to Jerrof and his 'companion'. "Why? Are you looking for a source?" she asks with a smirk. "You should ask him yourself if you're interested in spending the night, little girl."

Nova's fingers tighten on Anikara's shoulder as he tries to keep her from killing all three of the women, or die trying. "Come on, Ani. Let's try finding some more favourable company."

"I am called Ismark Kolyanovich," the man replies to Jerrof. "My father is Kolyan Indirovich, Burgomaster of Barovia. Since his death, yes, you could say I am now Burgomaster." Ismark sighs deeply as he takes another sip of his drink.

"As for your other questions... This land... this valley is called Barovia and this town is its capital and it shares its name. We do not receive many visitors." He casts a pointed look toward Anikara and Nova. "You should keep special watch over them, lest they feel the wrath of the superstitious.

"As for my father... He... died of natural causes. His heart failed him. My sister watches his over body at his manor."


As Desdemona approaches the bartender, he looks at her with dead eyes and a blank expression. He picks up one of the cups he just wiped, fills it with wine, and places it on the platter. He doesn't speak a word as he takes it holds it out toward Desdemona and then he goes back to cleaning the glasses.

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