Prologue: An inn and a drink... [original story]

[Callowmoryne]

"My tale, too long to tell. Roaming this land, and many others, eight seasons now. Fight wars, many battles. Have friend says am "stuck in loop". Came here same reason as Branon, hear trouble, come to help" Strongwind let those words sink in as he situated Pedowin, gave her the last of the carrots Dobbin had given him, and then settled back down by the fire. "Am thinkin, church throw Branon out. Branon not so bad. Seen courage and pride, seen simple and not simple ways to live, seen evil like men of Ashera, like Darach Fain, black hearts, kill children"

[tomcat]

"Well then, Sir Daqeen! We shall go and aid this town of Barovia, together, eh?!" Branon smiled wide and then tore the meat in his hands into two strips, pushing one into his mouth. He gripped it in his teeth momentarily, breathing in and out to cool it. "The food is good. Thank you. Oh, if only we had a cold ale to wash it down. Here is my promise to you, Strongwind, help me help the people of Barovia so that perhaps they will rain their gratitude down upon us, and I will buy you the best wine from the vineyards of Arnon!"

[Callowmoryne]

"It is plan then, let us see." Strongwind gathered his bow and situated his pack on Pedowins back. He took a quick look around the campsite to see if the aforementioned halfling theif left any tracks, and perhaps which direction the thieves traveled in.


Track66%
Roll(1d100)+0:
45,+0
Total:45

[tomcat]

If there had been a halfling walking about, Strongwind could not find any sign of his path, but his comrades were a different story. This was no surprise to the Daqeen, as halflings were known to be able to pass without leaving a trace. But whomever he had surrounded himself with, and Strongwind made a guess at four others based on the tracks, it was easy to see the direction that they had run off.

Now there were two choices - go north to find the Vistani rogues, or go east towards Barovia. Branon saw the question in Strongwind's eyes, "I can say one thing, Daqeen, if we find these thieves then I am certain to regain the few items that I had which should aid in our work in the town. Otherwise, I enter with nothing but my faith as a weapon... and it may not be well-honed! I hear the Vistani reside in these hills near Barovia, so it will not be as if we will go far. But, it is your choice of course."

[Callowmoryne]

"North then, maybe get posessions back. See tracks four or five here, think more in hills?"

[tomcat]

"The gypsy camps are many around here, so yes, we will probably see more than five. They have matriarchal figures, three old crones that supposedly can tell a man's future. Anyway, I have been told that they reside near Tser pool which lies on the northside of the village."



A correction, John - I made a mistake based on my map. The tracks that you can see go west, and Barovia lies north from the point I marked called Branon's camp. So west would be the route to follow the rogues.

I attached a zoomed out map below. It will also be on the drop down above for future reference.

[Callowmoryne]

"Follow tracks, maybe get lucky find hideout. If lead to village, look for halfling."

[tomcat]

The two men gathered their remaining items and then Branon lifted his robe to urinate on the fire. He turned towards Strongwind and smiled, "Forgive my rudeness, Daqeen, but I have no desire for my little campfire to escape its bounds and catch any of these dry pine needles. It is like kindling and the whole forest could go up! It would certainly please the Lord Karaturr, but I pay no homage to him and so will extinguish this small flame."

The priest finished his work, dropped his robe and turned to follow Strongwind who led his horse by the reins. The two men moved down the graded valley wall until they came at last to the level plain of its riverbed. The Ivlis River had once been wide and cut deep into the earth to form this valley, but now it was thin though its waters were still clean, cold, and good. As they marched, Branon began a dissertation on the land around them, "These woods, Daqeen, are called the Svalich. It is a dense forest of pine and other deciduous trees..." Seeing confusion on Strongwind's face, he continued, "Trees that drop their leaves. I studied these things in the University of Ashera, along with my studies to be a priest. The air is cool here and mists seem to cling to the mountainside and most times will fill this valley. It actually can make the place damp and dreary and I know not why the people stay, but they do. Anyway, soon we will come down to the Old Svalich road where we may either turn north for an easy walk to Barovia, or pass over and continue our hunt for the rogues."

Branon was quite right. They soon were standing on the road. A cool wind blew from off the mountains, yet the wispy fog hung close to the many defiles in the land. Strongwind let go of Pedowin's reins and moved to locate the tracks that might lead them to the Vistani gypsies. He walked some yards up the road when he espied the two high stone pillars, gray in the fog. Gates of iron were closed between the stonework, dew clinging to their rusted bars. Also before the two pillars were two statues of armed guardians at attention with long polearms in their hands. Their carved heads lie among the weeds at their feet, neatly broken from their stone shoulders.

A wolf howled far in the distance. Its sad cry hanging long in the valley.

The mists clung close now to Strongwind and he felt a chill up his spine.

The Daqeen saw at his feet the trail he was looking for. He turned back to Branon. The priest and Strongwind's horse seemed farther away then what he had thought he had walked. He called out, but his voice seemed subdued by the fog.

"What?" replied Branon, his voice also small.

Strongwind was about to reply when a grating sound startled him. He quickly turned to see the gates of Barovia opening of their own accord... inviting him in.

[Callowmoryne]

Strongwind strung his bow and peered through the gates. Without turning away he called to Brannon. "Am at gates, going in, come to voice, or follow Pedowin." He gave a low clicking sound from his throat to lead his mount throiugh the fog, he pulled a red feathered arrow from his quiver and knocked it to his bow. He stood ready at the gates of Barovia, waiting for his companions.


Idk if this seems tedious or is unnecessary but id like to make a see role and a scent roll doug, lol i feel like im abusing my skills or some such, but he would definetly utilize his senses atm


See 59%
Roll(1d100)+0:
7,+0
Total:7

scent 92%
Roll(1d100)+0:
73,+0
Total:73

[tomcat]

Nothing is tedious or unnecessary, man. Play it like you would if we were sitting at a table. If your PC is wanting to make a concentrated effort at something, then roll the dice. If he is just giving a standard cursory glance, then no dice rolls are necessary. There is no abuse here. Also, feel free to tell me if there is something in particular you are trying to achieve when you make a roll. This is not always necessary, and there are times that you do not know what can turn up, but the more info you want to put never hurts. 

[tomcat]

Strongwind could smell nothing more in the air save the forest and the faint fetid odor, like a breeze that softly blows over spoiled meat. He peered around him looking deep into the mists that clung close to the ground but there was nothing there.The muted clop of his horse's hooves came up behind him along with Branon.

"Maybe the wind?" asked the cleric regarding the open gates.

All was quiet around them and no wind stirred.

[Callowmoryne]

"Very well, not keep wind waiting. I go in, horse follow, stay next to horse." Strongwind thought to offer brannon a dagger, or one of his many hatchets. "Can help you if stay close. Can protect self?"

[tomcat]

"Aye, Sir Daqeen, I am very good with my weapon of choice... unfortunately, I see no blades here amongst your stash. Alas that it was taken from me whils't I still slept. I will stay close to your horse, but mayhaps the prayers to my Lord will aid us."

And so the two men passed through the gates of Barovia - one going forward alone, armed with bow and arrow, the other following a few paces behind. When Pedowin and Branon caught up to where Strongwind had advanced, a grating metal sound came again as the large gates began to swing closed. They clanged upon reaching each other and the two were now within the bounds of the town.

"Strange set of gates," said Branon. "They are inefficient for any defense, nor do they keep anyone contained! All you needs do is walk around them on either side." He chuckled.

Again a wolf's lonely cry  echoed through the valley causing Pedowin's ears to fold back against her head.

"Well Strongwind, what path does your nose take us now? T'would seem that we have been invited in to the town, yet the trail to the Vistani goes west."

Up the road lay Barovia and now to their west was more of the Svalich Woods and then the Ivlis river. They had to choose.



I know you guys were following the Vistani, but does the gates create more of an appealing path? Let me know.

[Callowmoryne]

"Stay on tracks from theives, while still fresh."

Yeah he will keep tracking the theives for now doug

[tomcat]

Strongwind led Branon off the road and into the Svalich woods, leaving the old rusted gates of Barovia behind. The land pitched down into an apparent long-dried river basin. The trees grew tall and full, digging deep into the rich soil. Branches hung low and the two companions were occassionaly snagged, or tugged, as they weaved about. Strongwind stayed tightly on the trail. It was apparent that the Vistani rogues did not bother too much with stealth.

Soon, the air became thick with mist and the smell of decay hung heavy. The ground changed from firm footing to thick mud that sucked at their boots. Flies and gnats swarmed in clouds and irritated both eyes and nose of men and horse alike. Branon swatted at something that buzzed deep in his ear, "Aodhan be blessed, but this is a nasty bog we have found. I have heard that the Ivlis marshed in this basin, but I did not know that we'd march right into it!"

Strongwind heard the exasperation in the priest's voice, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. The land did what the land would, and you learned to live in accord with those things that lived within this world - nuisance though they be. Still, the Daqeen warrior did begin to worry about Pedowin. This terrain was the perfect place for him to have his mount break a leg. That was when Strongwind saw the form - a man - standing some yards in front of them, obscured by the mist. Its back was to them and it was apparent that he was hindered by the marsh, the man's legs sunk deep up to his calves.

In the distance, a lonely howl echoed again.

The mist seemed chill and Branon pulled his light robe away from his skin. "I am getting soaked," he muttered, his voice muted.

Strongwind could plainly see the tracks of a group of people, at least five strong, continuing north.