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

[tomcat]

Carl, did you get my message about advancing your PC? Let me know if you did and if so, if you have made the changes. Also, I will be giving you some itmes of value shortly... need to think about it a bit and see what your PC is about based on your posts (i.e. what kind of treasures would Kerth have and keep).

[daxkran]

"I know not 'The Haas' in person, only his part in the Black Keep and his tales that have come to me through song," Kerth replied. This plainsman was much more than he had imagined, and his part would be more complicated to sing than he first thought. He could sense the arrow straight determination and unwavering courage from the man almost as a parallel to the unwavering determination he felt eminating from the dead since his arrival. There was a connection, an empathy, that he felt in their presence that Kerth couldn't explain, yet nagged at him like a fleeting thought he needed to remember but lay just outside his mind's eye.

"I do also know that your path is dangerous, Strongwind, yet still my tale must now intertwine with yours." Kerth gave a slight bow of the waist, and a returning thin smile. "Perhaps there is a place for me in the Song I must sing as well." Kerth liked this Daqueen, and tried to imagine the rythym that he would use in telling his tales - simple, tribal beats over a stacatto picking of the strings instead of strumming. It was that back rythym that would lay the groundwork from which he could weave a spell that might musically enthrall the masses. Maybe he would play it fromt the top of the keep itself!

But he was allowing himself to daydream and had to return to the moment at hand.

"I also know not of this darkness's source but I am sure with your determination we shall find out!" Kerth put a hand on Stronwind's shoulder. "Come, let us fill your stomach with good drink and food. Perhaps that is all the reward anyone really needs - I should know as it has been my sole reward for song many, many times!"

[tomcat]

Strongwind was not sure if the word 'good' could be used to describe the fare that was available within the barricaded town. Kerth had led Branon and the Daqeen into one of Barovia's small inns and though it appeared that business was as usual, it was not reflected in what the innkeep had to offer. Food stores were almost empty and there were few gardens being tended within the town; livestock, too, had been abated down to the minimum and so fresh meat was in very short supply; and lastly, there were only two kegs of ale left for the pouring.

The daqeen warrior realized that the folks sitting around the room were there out of habit, normalcy, and camaraderie. The men were able to leave the outside world for just a while even though there was little offered. Still, Kerth took the two companions to a table to sit and a woman approached, "Not much to offer... but you're welcome to ask."

Around them, the folks murmurred to themselves and gave Kerth and his companions only the odd look. There was one amongst them all that Kerth gestured to and informed Strongwind and Branon that he was the burgomaster's son, Ismark - the only leader these people had. At least until it could be verified whether Barovia's Burgomaster still lived.

[Callowmoryne]

Strongwind wondered why these people thought their was a chance their elected leader had survived. If he wasnt with the living he had fled or was with the dead. Either option made him unfit to lead in his opinion."Pleased to meet Ismark. Am called Strongwind." He turned to the woman. "Whatever can offer Lady. Any hot food or broth. Not picky. Water can drink unless soured by the walking dead. Have heard this thing before."

[tomcat]

"I will bring what I can," answered the woman who immediately made her way from the table towards a door that led to the kitchen.

The man named Ismark had heard Strongwind's greeting and nodded, but then he rose and walked over towards the trio. The rest of the room hushed as they watched their leader's son, wondering what was going on. Ismark spoke, "You are the new arrivals that I had heard spoken of. You braved the surrounds and the town itself to get within our barricades... why? Why have you come when there is nothing here but death? What does the surrounding land tell? Is this plague of undead spread wide, or is it centered here?" He looked at the priest, "In what ways have we offended the gods that they would wish our town's existence removed from the map? These are good people. Strong. Even now the bulk of them stay to defend what is theirs. Why have we been forsaken?"

Branon looked first at Kerth and Strongwind, and then to Ismark. He cleared his throat, "Mmm... well... I do not know. The plague of undead is definitely centered around Barovia. But what sins were committed to bring this down upon such good folk, only you could know. Aodhan offers the True Path and his Light is the way, but only to those who accept it... hence he will offer nothing to aid you..."

The priest's words were cut off as the folk around the room began to murmur and curse -

"Damn the gods!"
"Curse them! They brought this down on us!"
"Do not say such things! We have lost our way!"
"Pshhh!"
"Ismark, you know what to do!"
"It comes from the tower! It comes from Castle Barin-Fel!"
"Wrong, it comes from our own pastor who now only administers to his abomination of a son!"
"Yea! The curse came upon us when that boy was run over by the ox cart."

Ismark held up his hands and the chamber quieted once more, "Why have you come Strongwind? Priest?" He even looked to Kerth, "Why are you here, Elf?"

[Callowmoryne]

Strongwind cleared his throat. Dry as it was his voice still sounded like pebbles rattling in a washpan. "I would help. Have seen this kind of darkness before. Must find source. Destroy it. Burn the walking dead. Destroy their heads. Any who sickness has takin hold of. A quick death and fire is the answer." He looked around at the frightened townsfolk. "I beleive you are strong. For you did not flee. Brave to struggle for life in this place of Bequdon." His eyes found Branons briefly and he sent a silent prayer to his ancestors that another Litany of the light shining from Aodhans ass was not forthcoming. "I beleive the priest and Kerth will help me in this. But can speak now for selves."

[tomcat]

Branon nodded, "Yes, it is my intent and perhaps even my salvation to assist the Daqeen with his errand. We have come to help you folk and so, by doing, perhaps I will once more be graced by my Lord." He looked at Ismark, "I heard someone say that the pastor of your town is still present, and that he serves now by only ministering to his own son? To whom does your temple serve?"

"Our church is the house of Larama," answered one of the patrons.

"Oh..." replied Branon. Strongwind was not sure but he thought he saw humor alight the priest's face. Branon continued, "Why does he minister only to his son?"

Ismark answered, "Almost a year past, the boy strayed into the street and was run over by an ox cart. The boy is only that in mind, though his body has aged over 22 winters. The simpleton did not pay attention and the driver of the ox cart could not stop his animals in time - and we know how slow an ox will move! Anyway, the boy was tripped and the wheels rolled over him. It was said that his neck was broken, and that he should have died, but he has been seen lumbering around the churchyard."

"But only briefly!" called out another patron. "The pastor is always quick to bring him back in the church."

Another spoke, "It has been since that boy was hurt that our pastor has had a gathering for worship. I believe it is Larama that has brought down this curse upon us, for we no longer pay homage."

An old man with cataracts whiting out his eyes stood up blindly, "Larama cares no deal for this town! It is the hellish lord that resides in the old castle that looms over us like a gargoyle that does this to us! You want salvation? You'll only find it there."

Ismark raised his hands, "Quiet... please. How can you help us, Daqeen? I can see that you are a warrior. Certainly braver and more sure than most here, but what can you do?"

[Callowmoryne]

"I am no great force Ismark. Ive no great magics." Strongwinds eyes found Ismarks. His intense gaze did not waver. "Ive some skill with bow and blade. Have no grave powers, but lack emotion that keeps you behind barricades. Am Daqeen. Was not born with fear. I will go to this church. Or to this lords keep. Seek salvation." Strongwinds thirst was getting the better of him. He looked around the room for the serving woman. Clearing his throat again to make his point. 

[tomcat]

There was a positive murmur that ran through the room when Strongwind spoke of investigating the church. He was not surprised when a mug was set before him and his companions filled with some freshly tapped ale. "Finest in the house," winked the woman then she walked away.

Ismark nodded, "It would be a great priveledge to have these things done." He looked around somewhat loathingly to his neighbors, "I will join you in this. Now that I have men of stout heart, I will cross the barricade to see if my father and sister live." He yelled over his shoulder, "Woman! Bring more food for these good men... real food!"

The conversation in the room rose to a small roar, due to the elation of mood. Young children ran out of the inn to spread the word in Barovia that heroes had come to save them.

[tomcat]

Hey John, Carl has fallen from the game due to loss of his PC. Let me know if you still want to continue with Strongwind and Branon.

[tomcat]

The day passed and Strongwind and Branon were given a heroes welcome. Food that had been stored, or hidden, was brought forth and prepared for the two men, while discussion went on about how they might best make the run to the Burgomaster's home. Strongwind had walked the outside streets of Barovia and so knew what it would take to evade the undead - still he thought having Branon along with his little trinkets would make things easier.

The dinner was good - not too great, as most of the food was dried, jarred, or stale. - but edible. Strongwind appreciated the people that extended this commodity to him. It was truly gold in this dying town. Next, rooms were prepared and the two took the opportunity to get good rest before they would leave in the morning. Ismark would be joining them, but no others. Strongwind was sure that would be enough - too many people would bring the undead on them.

There was no sunshine with the coming of dawn. The town was still draped in the oppressive mist. Branon wrapped his cloak tighter about him but it was damp and did little to stave off the chill. He sighed, "If but a glimmer of Aodhan's Light could shine here, it would warm the soul."

Ismark led them to the south side of town and they mounted the large pile of debris that was the barricade. They had to move carefully, for the boards, tables, carts, and what not would shift under their weight with each step. A broken leg would put an end to the mission, and falling on one of the staves of wood could put an end to their lives.



I am going to perform a Balance test here for all of the PC's, just to make sure that no one kills themselves. I will determine ill effects based on the degree of failure, if failed.

Ismark Balance 48%

Rolled 1d100 : 61, total 61

Branon Balance 52%

Rolled 1d100 : 33, total 33

Strongwind Balance 30%

Rolled 1d100 : 91, total 91

[tomcat]

Branon carefully ascended the barricade, only to bring himself safely down on the other side. For Strongwind and Ismark, it was not so good. The Barovian went first, up the side of the pile of debris, with Strongwind following him and  matching his steps. It was on their descent that the beam on which Ismark stood pitched up, throwing him off balance. Strongwind who shared the step was also thrown forward and he fell into Ismark. The two clattered to the ground with a terrible noise. Branon, startled by it all, turned in fear afraid that one of his new companions would be skewered upon the barricade. Fortunately, both men were rolling on the ground alive, though bruised and scraped, but Strongwind had a terrible gash along his calf. The blood oozed out quickly soddening his leggings - though unperceived by the men, the scent of fresh blood filling the air.

In the early morning, a large wild boar had wandered into the confines of Barovia's abandoned streets and soon found itself unable to leave. A pack of ghouls had set upon the beast and were now rending it to pieces and feasting on the offal that was yanked from its carcass. The blood-soaked leader of the pack lifted its head into the gray mist - it had heard something. A loud noise had come from up the street where the smell of food was so very strong. On all fours, the once human being climbed over the corpse and its companions and craned its ear to listen. It then snorfed at the air, sucking in bits of ruined flesh into its nose, but still it recognized the scent. There was fresh blood nearby!

A guttural growl escaped its throat and three other companions lifted their heads from the waste that once was the boar. Like a pack of wolves, they moved into the mist.



I will get you more here, John, but you may interject some RP if you want. For now I am going to lunch.

[Callowmoryne]

  Ouch

[tomcat]

Branon moved over to where Strongwind stood and looked at the wound. "I can aid you, Daqeen, but you must be willing to allow the Light of Aodhan to heal you? Do you wish to be bathed in his glory and feel his healing touch?"

Ismark looked around at the mist, "Well whatever you plan on doing, I suggest we do it fast. The longer the scent of blood is in the air, the worse off we will be."

The ghoul pack moved towards the trio, using the mist and the ruins of the town to obscure their approach. The lead ghoul peered through the cold fog and his eyes were able to perceive the warmth of the three men standing before the barricade - their hearts beating in their chests. Drool ran from the dead maw, as the ghoul hunkered down into a low crawl and ready to spring once in range.

[Callowmoryne]

Strongwind sneered at the priest. Knocking an arrow and looking for a likely target. " Can heal me, just do it. Stop blathering on about Aodhans light. Use your magics priest and be done."

Bone bow 119% attack lead ghoul, red arrows

Rolled 1d100 : 10, total 10

Damage

Rolled 4d6+5 : 4, 1, 6, 3 + 5, total 19

Rolled 1d4 : 3, total 3