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Curse of Strahd [CLOSED]

Finding the first house empty, Fianna gives a slight sigh and moves into the village proper. Surely someone will be there, and surely someone will take pity on her... right?
 
"Tegan! It is good to see you again lad. I knew you would be fine, I did. I didn't doubt you for a minute." Hircus laughs and slaps the man on the back. "Well, maybe for a minute. I am curious to hear about this new friend of yours, Oblio and what you might have said to lead him to the gallows. I am also interested in the local politics, but let's cut to chase here friend." The cleric's face hardens, "What did you learn at the castle? What can you tell us of Strahd? Maybe less that we can tell you."
 
Syvis, Hircus, Moire, Ina
Tegan's Squat



Tegan return's Hircus' warm salutation, but hesitates at the questions about Oblio. " "Hrmmmmm ... I don't know, old man. I'd normally tell you everything, but I'm just a little worried the four of you might march right along in his footsteps if I did. No, you're better off not knowing. Just find a nice empty house here to hole up in for tonight and then carry on with whatever else it was you were going to do."

"Oh, that,"
Tegan says with a downward glance when Hircus asks about the castle. "It seemed like it would be easy enough to get in, but that drawbridge is not up to Waterdeep standards. Put my foot through a board and almost went all the way down. Tried shouting across for the doorman, but no luck. So we circled around but couldn't find a way. Then I saw something—it's hard, isn't it, not knowing what's going to give you a dose of the Barovia Vapors? Bless Tymora for Van here; I think he steered me away from wandering off the precipice."

"So here we are in beautiful Barovia Village with another day gone by."
Tegan flops down on the couch, his gray robes bunching up beneath his chin. "I think I've got an angle now with that Hanzi. He and his sisters have some sway here, and some contacts at the castle. But what did you learn? Out with it, you cagey old goat!"
 
Tegan continues briefly explaining his whereabouts since he left the party a day ago, but Hircus only hears Tegan's dodging. The big man nods along until his friend flops down on the couch. Hircus moves toward the couch, stomps a foot on the Tegan's robes to pin him to the couch and leans in. "What I've learned? I have learned to spare little confidence for those you meet in Barovia. I have learned that we... Moire, Ina, you and me were returned here for good reason, and I don't think that a simple parley with the Vistani King is the answer. If you have more information to share with the group, spill it lad. My patience for evasiveness has worn thin." Hircus leans in even closer locking eyes with Tegan.
 
Tegan stares up at Hircus, his brow furrowed in puzzlement, with a hint of growing annoyance. Then a faint quivering smile breaks at the corner of his mouth and he bursts out laughing. "Okay, okay, if you insist," he says. "Have a seat, at least." He grips Hircus' hand and tries to pull him down onto the tatterdemalion sofa, but doesn't have enough leverage from his position to force the larger man off his feet. He lets go, reclines again, and tells the tale.

"So, the local Priest Donavich's his son took off about a year ago to join someone called the Mad Mage who was raising a little army against Strahd. Sound familiar? The Wizard ended hurled over a waterfall by our illustrious vampire lord and everyone else was killed, or worse. Donavich's son was apparently in the worse cateogry; he came back home to his father as some sort of monstrosity that hungers for flesh and blood. Donavich keeps him locked up in the undercroft, where he barks and cries at all hours. Church attendance has fallen off a bit since then, as you might imagine."

"Oblio had it in his head to do something bloody about this abominable boy, and, in the interest of good conversation, I might have said some things he took to indicate we'd join him in that endeavor. I didn't think he was serious. Van and I were fast asleep here when the priest raised the alarm and all of these villagers, his flock I suppose, rushed up there and cornered poor Oblio. Soon after they took him down the road for a hanging. That's the short and long of it."
 
When Tegan finishes his story Hircus steps back and straightens up. The cleric folds his arms across his chest and slowly glances around the room, first at his current companions and then he pauses to lock eyes with the toad. "Do you have anything to add Vanwandir? I know you do enjoy telling stories."
 
bat2.jpgThe bat clambers to the back of the sofa, from which it flits over to a nearby empty bookcase and addresses Hircus' question. "Ah, I discern the accusatory insinuation in your look, Lonely Teeth. And I am certain you four would have acted differently than we did. You would, no doubt, have joined Lemon Pony in the murder of that poor misshapen lad, all in the name of clearing this land of abominations. With your added muscle and bloodlust, the endeavor would likely have been a success too. But that is not our way. We hold to other principles. To whit:

"We greeted Lemon Pony and listened to his tale—Empathy. We related the sad story of what became of those other fools he used to travel with—Honesty. We commiserated with his loss and, for a moment, humored his scheme of bold action against the priest's degenerate son—Compassion. However, we did not go through with that fell deed against the boy who had become something strange and different—Tolerance. Finally, we said good night to Lemon Pony, trusting he too would do the right thing—Trust. Consider these ideals, Lonely Teeth, and one day you too may better yourself."


Satisfied with his homily, the tiny bat nods his head and vanishes. At the other end of the couch, Ina is crouching next to Tegan, and the two of them are exchanging whispers. Hircus, Moire and Syvis must have been so captivated by Vanwandir's speech that they didn't notice the side conversation until now. Tegan looks over, flips his hands up, rolls his eyes and says, "Van," in reference to the familiar's antics.
 
Moire is only too happy to see Tegan rejoin the group, even if the way he speaks suggests it won't last the night. She's neither innocent nor naive enough to miss the distance in his eyes or the calculation in his choice of words. He's plainly chosen to walk another path and, if he seems disinterested in their company, chances are high that it's a path she wouldn't approve of. Yet she can't stop seeing him as a man as confused as she'd been a few days ago. As a man she once fought and died beside so long ago.

While the others speak, the Paladin steps to a window and gazes out into the night, letting their words fill her mind but at least briefly solitary as she weighs each piece of information. The gruff cleric's determination and Tegan's reluctant acquiescence feels like the final part of confirmation for her that they're better off apart. In distance at least. Hopefully not in purpose.

The black-haired woman at last turns back to the group and smiles softly during a lull in the conversation. It doesn't escape her notice that Ina and Tegan have perhaps more in common with each other than either with a Paladin and a Cleric, or the Druid willing to hitch her destiny to theirs.

"Come now, my friends," she says at last to the group. "We've no need for accusations. Indeed, Tegan and Van, you've both given us more than you've received. For my part, I believe the King of this land means to destroy us in his own way, just as he did in ages past. Perhaps we have different ideas of how to beat him at his game but I think we can all agree we're stronger united in purpose." She raises a hand and squeezes her fingers into a fist. "He holds every advantage. He has centuries of experience, he knows this land intimately, and he wields more personal power than perhaps all of us together. Yet there are forces set against him as well, tools we might wield to stop him."

Moire speaks then of all that's occurred since Tegan parted ways, freely offering detail on the vampire Faira, the fisherman, the Vistani girl they rescued and the Vistani reward they received. King Strahd's visit and his invitation/threat that could fall on the group at any hour of this very night. At last, Madame Eva and a (brief) description of the means they might secure a victory after all.

"I've said all of this candidly," the Paladin finishes, giving a significant look to Tegan, Ina and Van more so than to Hircus or Syvis. "Because I believe our very lives might depend on all of us knowing as much as possible. Strahd's reign is fated to be ended by a book, a symbol and a blade, along with the help of an ally. The book almost certainly lies in the hands of Izek in Vallaki; retrieving it will require stealth and much cunning I fear. The symbol is buried with a dead woman, so perhaps learning of this land's cemeteries will help. The sword likely lies in the castle, a trophy placed in an ossuary of bone. Last, there's a warlock who serves the King."

"So here is what I propose:
1. The book is the only location we're pretty certain of. And it's thieves work. Tegan, if you don't have other plans, perhaps you could find it for us. To make better odds, perhaps Ina could work with you. I fear a Paladin and a Cleric will only make a task of subterfuge less successful for our presence.
2. The symbol, we all keep an eye out by checking out any cemetery we come across.
3. As for the sword, it seems to lie in the Castle. And while you're working on an angle for entrance, Tegan, the rest of us may find ourselves there sooner than later by virtue of the King's invitation. When that happens, we'll do what we can to have one of us search the castle for this ossuary while the others keep him entertained.
4. Which leads us to the ally. If this warlock stands with Strahd for the moment, an invitation to the castle may be an excellent way to meet them. I have a feeling that the King is in no hurry to end his little game with us, as long as we're genteel and respectful in how we treat with him. I have some skill at coaxing virtue from the vice-ridden; I'll see if I can get them alone and win them over.
In the event that the King's invitation takes some time to find us, Hircus, Syvis and myself will focus on looking for the symbol...and seeing if perhaps we can find and join forces with this Rudolph van Richten. Should we all live, perhaps we could meet back here in...say, three days time? And if we haven't been snared by the King, the six of us can pool our resources to breech the castle itself."

At last taking a rest from her long speech, the Paladin leans against the back wall of the house, glancing briefly out the window to ensure no one's been eavesdropping. "What say you?" she asks the assembled party.
 
A tiny incorporeal sigh from somewhere in the room answers Moire's proposed plan, no doubt Vanwandir bemoaning Hairy Golems. Tegan, who has listened with interest, says, "It sounds like a brilliant scheme, but I'm afraid I'm thinking along other lines now and won't be able to help so directly."

"I'll do it,"
says Ina. "I'll go back to Vallaki and find that book. Can you at least help me work up a disguise, Tegan? I think I can have that Burgomaster eating out of my hand if I just get to him directly without going through Strazni."

Tegan and Ina are working out the details when Moire checks the window again and sees someone walking by outside: a young woman—clearly not a local—with slightly elven features, who seems entirely lost. The woman looks from house to house as if seeking something. With a start Moire realizes that she knows this woman. It's Fianna, the "Woods Witch", another stray who joined Aurica Markovia's band after they reached Barovia.
 
Vanwandir's sigh is unsurprising. Sadly enough, so is Tegan's polite demurral. She'd felt a real bond and connection to him in their short days together but this independent streak feels...in-character for him. How well had she known him before they'd all perished? Was he uncooperative in those days as well? ...Was he a risk?

Sighing herself, Moire's gaze out the window for eavesdroppers sharpens instantly. Now she's surprised. The scrutiny had been more reflex than out of a belief that there might actually be someone out there. And yet...

Fianna...

While Tegan and Ina talk, Moire straightens, turns and walks right out the door without a word. The Paladin loops the house until she's reached her window's vantage point and then stands there in the gloom of night, the silhouette of a warrior. Looking in Fianna's direction naturally leads the eye up towards the distant Castle Ravenloft, the fortress' presence revealed only by tiny pinpricks of light from its windows so far away. It has the feeling of an omen, a portent of some kind. And yet...

Esbilon Esbilon
"Fianna," the Paladin calls out into the night. Sudden excitement fills her for no reason she can put a finger on. "Fianna, it's Moire. Moire Cassiel. Come, this land is no place for a woman to walk alone. Friends you may remember are inside," she adds with a tilt of her head towards the ramshackle building.
 
Fianna walks through the village with her arms clasped around herself for warmth. Though the rain has stopped, the wind still pierces her clothes and she shivers in the cold night as she thinks regretfully back to the warm cloak she left behind in Jorten's closet. Despite the chill, leaving it behind is probably for the best, she wouldn't want to be a thief, even to such a host as the would-be vampire. As she walks, her eyes roam the village houses for a glimpse of warmth and light, but neither seems to be in attendance.

There is something special about hearing one's name spoken out loud. It cuts through ambient noice like a knife and demands attention in a way no other word would. When she hears Moire calling her name, it is all Fianna can do to keep from tripping in shock. She turns slowly towards the paladin, still hugging herself as memories of her strange past life come back to her. Her eyes meet Moire's and all the reservations and fears she would otherwise have drain out of her. Even in her past life with Markovia's company, she was not close with everyone and was perhaps considered somewhat stand-offish and distant, but not so with Moire. Fianna doesn't have the time or energy to fully sort out the why of it, all she knows now is that she feels as safe with the former pirate as she has felt since before her life was turned on its head. Before her mother died.

She doesn't quite run, but she doesn't quite walk either as she approaches the one house in this cursed place where she may find friends. She doesn't get there, however, instead she spreads her arms and embraces the lone woman who came out in the dark to bring her back into the light. As her arms close around Moire, she feels her burdens lighten and tears form in her eyes as she lowers her guard for the first time in what seems like forever.
 
The approach and sudden embrace are as welcome as they are unexpected.

Moire's clad in armor (as usual for a Paladin) but her answering embrace is gentle and heartfelt. The somewhat taller woman bends her head, black hair falling forward like a curtain, and she holds the half-elven woman, recognizing grief even if she doesn't know the source. Could it be her mother? Moire frowns at the thought, having had a few days of practice now at recognizing when memory and experience didn't line up. The Paladin's own memories prior to the grove were of Baldur's Gate. It felt like yesterday. The woman in her arms had recently lost her mother and if Moire didn't remember how she knew that, it might stand to reason that it also felt like yesterday for poor Fianna.

"You're safe now," she whispers to the stricken woman in her embrace. "As long as I live, you always will be." A minute more and she gently urges, "Let's get inside, out of the night. This land is dangerous but all of us who've awakened so far are inside. We have quite the story to tell." Moire smiles at Fianna and lightly caresses the back of the half-elf's head, an expression of affection. "I imagine you might too."
 
"I'm not sure anyone is ever safe in the shadow of that castle," Fianna says, her voice thick with emotion, "but I appreciate the sentiment," she adds with a trace of amusement as well. Fianna lets go of Moire and takes a step back, had the other not been wearing armor she might have held on a little longer, but once the initial burst of emotion has faded, it really isn't very comfortable. "And yes, let's," she answers and gestures for Moire to lead the way. "Who else is there?" She asks once the paladin moves towards the entrance, and with a quick application of magic she clears away the physical signs of her grief. Seeing her as distressed as she really is is not something she will allow everyone to do.
 
Moire glances up at Castle Ravenloft when Fianna mentions it and her smile fades slightly. But then she looks back to the half-elf's eyes and the smile's back too. The Paladin pauses before the door, giving the witch her chance to 'freshen up', and only raises an eyebrow to suggest she won't open it until Fianna's ready. "Faces you'll probably find familiar, even if you won't remember when you got to know them. Hircus. Tegan. Ina. Also Syvis but I believe she came from the mists the..." Moire frowns slightly as she thinks about it and finally says, "the normal way, if there is such a thing. I'll introduce you...and give you a chance to dry out with the rest of us while we plan."

The Paladin's thoughtful expression deepens. "You've come at a good time but to grave news, I fear. We'll share everything we know, because it affects you as much as it does any of us who once joined with Aurica Markovia."

And on that note, she opens the door to her companions, going first while saying, "I come with a friend. Syvis?" Moire looks for the druid and sweeps a hand back in an introductory gesture. "This is Fianna. She's in the same situation the rest of us are." And then her eyes flick back to the three others she woke with only a few days ago, while reaching up to briefly pat Fianna on the shoulder while ushering her inside. The gesture of solidarity is unmistakable.
 
During the conversation Syvis had placed herself in a corner, not entirely trusting the Tegan person and the speaking creature ... there was something ... off about them. Predatory in a sense. Even as the pack she had found herself in was supposed to be allied with him, it felt far more like at the moment it was an alliance of necessity and not of actual desire.

Still, she wasn't keen on splitting the pack -- she knew from years of experience there was safety in numbers, and in this place, safety was hard enough to find as it was. The druid tapped on Otrev's bird cage lightly as she thought, glancing over at Moire as she for some reason left the structure ... then returned with another.

For a brief second she thought perhaps this would be someone like her, snatched away by whatever this place is, but her hopes fell as Moire announced that no, this was another from the ancient pack. A relationship, a bond that far outweighed whatever they had now. As she was gestured to she dipped her head briefly. "This is Otrev," she added simply, shifting her hold on the birdcage.
 
Each tap on the cage makes Otrev shake his head and half-blink at the precipice of sleep. His wings shudder out fragments of choreographed speech about tasty morsels and transient territorial squabbles. He must have really dozed off, but he seems to wake fully when Fianna enters the hovel and Syvis extends his cage. He starts preening himself, describing the process to Syvis as he does, as if handing out pointers for her own grooming.

tegan.jpgWith the exception of the wood elf with the bird cage, the faces Fianna sees inside are as strangely familiar as Moire promised. Tegan, who she was making soup with in that fleeting vision brought on by Jorten's questions, is here and jumps to his feet in amazement. "Fianna!" he exclaims and rushes over to embrace her. Fianna remembers him a bit more now: sometimes standoffish or falsely ingratiating with others, he seemed to take a genuine interest in her, acting as though they were co-conspirators in some never-fully-acknowledged scheme.

ina.jpgInawenys stays where she is, crouching on the floor, but waves and smiles. Fianna remembers that Ina came from an important family somewhere far away; little bits of vestigial formalities would crop up in her day to day behavior. Oh, and some incident where Ina thought she had offended Fianna and kept apologizing for what seemed like an eternity. Every time Fianna thought the matter was closed, Ina would take her aside and solemnly proclaim her remorse.

And last is Hircus, chosen of Torm, a deity venerated in army camps and the cities, but who was seldom mentioned where Fianna came from—Moire's beloved Ilmater embodied more relatable principles. Seeing these four, Fianna is reminded of the range within Markovia's "army", a source of constant, low-lying tensions: The true-believers like Moire and Hircus who willfully traveled to this land with their young leader, and the strays, hangers-on and desperate castaways who had become trapped here by other means and only later joined the cause. Tegan and Inawenys were of the latter sort, as was Fianna herself.[/div]
 
The big cleric's brow pinches as Van ticks of his virtues. A huff of amused indignation escapes Hircus, "You are correct in one matter. We would have acted differently than you two." A shake of his head clears the cynical attitude from his head, but just as Hircus is about to add a apologetic note Moire begins speaking and eventually laying out her plan. The cleric can't help but to agree with the paladin's proposal. He finds it easy to defer to her calm leadership in situations like this.

Vanwandir's sigh prompts Hircus to scan the room for some sign of where the invisible creature has gone. This must be why he doesn't notice when Moire moves out of the door. When he does discover her absence he spies the open door and moves to support the paladin. just as he reaches the door Moire walks through with Fianna. Hircus gawks as Moire reintroduces the group. After all the rest welcome the witch into the house Hircus steps forward arms outstretched. It is good to see another of Aurica's Army alive and well and not turned as... Faria. A moment of distrust passes across the cleric's face, but a moment later the suspicion is gone and the cleric wraps ropy a hug around woman welcome or not. The warmth of the living soothes any remaining doubts that he may have had that Fianna might be another undead creature.

"Come in, come in." Hircus releases the embrace and reaches behind FIanna to close the door. "We are not in friendly territory."
 
Fianna really isn't as much of a hugger as her erstwhile companions, but she smiles and returns their embraces regardless. Her returning smile to Ina is slightly more genuine, however, as she appreciates the other expressing herself without them having to invade each other's personal space. That said, she is glad to see them all, including the new additions of Syvis and Otrev, but her mind has already transitioned from being all alone in the night to being among friends, surrounded by enemies though they are.

"Good evening, all," she says in greeting once she is free to speak, "it's is good to see you again, or for the first time," she adds with a nod to the druid and her animal companion. "Moire mentioned some grave news, and while that is unlikely to be the most pleasant of conversations, perhaps it is necessary to cover at once?"
 
The reunion goes as well as she'd hoped. Moire smiles again, warmed by the warmth shown and appreciative that her companions were as good natured as she might have wished.

Fianna's reserve (or Syvis' for that matter) do not go unnoticed and the Paladin is swift to shut the door, ensuring the group's privacy as introductions are finished. It's a strange thing, she thinks, as she moves into the house to reposition herself in the midst of the assembled heroes. Turning to face the half-elf, she's torn between the challenge of presenting the ludicrous task that's before them to a stranger and the realization that she feels she knows how to speak to the woman already. She somehow knows Fianna's a straightforward woman who would rather have the facts delivered straight.

"I'd ask you to share your story when I'm done with ours," Moire says, after clearing her throat and collecting her thoughts. "For our part, all you see here with the exception of Syvis woke several days ago in a grove, somewhere not here nor anywhere earthly any of us had ever been. We had no memory of how we got there or how exactly we knew each other, despite somehow knowing each other anyway. We spoke to something that wore the shape of an old woman, seemingly for our comfort. That something spoke of a bargain we'd struck with the power it worked for, payment it'd already received and this...resurrection was what was purchased apparently. We were sent down a cloudy tunnel to land in a grove of trees with little more than the clothes on our backs, the only clue a dead woman possibly a druid who seemingly perished from a strike of lightning we can't explain."

"We left that grove, fought animate vegetation that nearly killed us, and made our way to a road where we encountered the Vistani, a people like the Gur from the Realms. They were friendly, gave us directions to a band of adventurers who had perished as well as directions to the nearest town. We paid our respects to those slain adventurers, gained their armaments while acquiring an alliance with their companion, our own very good Vandwandir over there."

"We traveled to a town called Vallaki, chased by wolves, only to find the village in the grip of a festival. After learning something of the place, we ended up investigating a missing girl of the Vistani, which led us to the home of a fisherman who'd concealed a vampire beneath his home, someone we'd all known as the elven girl Faira. By this time, we'd already discovered that the sight of certain places, hearing certain names, triggered memories that suggested we'd been here before, centuries ago in a failed crusade to slay the master of this accursed land, Count Strahd who is evidently a vampire lord. After besting her, we were exiled from Vallaki, we tracked down the fisherman, rescued the kidnapped girl and turned her over to Vistani justice. We were their guests for the night, as was Strahd who is evidently their 'King' while they dwell in this land. He knew us...and said he'd send for us tonight, an event that still hasn't quite taken place."

"In the meantime, Tegan had gone his own way and evidently expects to do so again. Meanwhile, we traveled for a day to this place, where we met a Vistani seer just a short distance from this very town. She gave us powerful advice and perhaps the knowledge needed to slay the vampire lord, free this land of its curse...and possibly save our own lives as well."

"Strahd's reign is fated to be ended by a book, a symbol and a blade, along with the help of an ally. The book almost certainly lies in the hands of a man we met in Vallaki, and Ina's agreed to retrieve it for us as she has certain skills useful in that endeavor...and the rest of us very much do not. The symbol is buried with a dead woman, so the rest of us thought to learn what we could of this land's cemeteries. There's also a vampire hunter who has come to his land that we hope to join forces with, if we can find him."

"Meanwhile, the sword likely lies within the castle, a trophy placed in an ossuary of bone by all accounts. And the ally fated to help us is a warlock who serves Strahd for now. My thought was to concentrate on the symbol and the book, and then seek entrance into Castle Ravenloft to acquire the last two...unless the King of the Vistani finds us first in which case careful maneuvering on our part may yet preserve us."


Moire takes a deep breath and says, "Strahd appears to be well mannered and seems to respond to the same. Our return is a mystery to him and I have the impression that he's had little mystery in the past several centuries. He may be slow to bring the game to a close...and that alone may give us the span of time needed to bring him down before he kills us again, as he once did before."

"...Any questions?' she asks at the end. Then, with a gentle grin, Moire adds "That we can answer?"
 
"It was much the same for me, though I ws greeted by a faerie queen rather than an old woman, and she offered little in the way of advice. Instead, I found myself in what turned out to be the closet of a guest room in that Castle," Fianna says with a nod in the direction of the vampire lord's looming home. "There I met a man named Jorten who is apparently several hundred years old as well as a very strange coven of witches before I was grabbed by a gargoyle and flown to this village," she continues and shivers in memory of the harrowing flight and the biting cold.

She takes a breath before adding, "I have had two visions of the kind you describe, one making soup with Tegan," she says and nods to the man, "and one of my... my death. At the hands of the lord of the castle," she finishes and shivers again.

"As for questions..." she pauses, unsure of herself even among these people she feels are friends, "is there some way we can just leave?" She tries, "trying to defeat an ancient vampire with fewer people than the first time when he has time to prepare and knows we are coming seems too much like throwing our lives away rather than accomplishing anything."
 
Silent during Moire's speech and summary, Syvis looked out of the window at Fianna's question of leaving. "While normally I would agree, survival being the most important, this land seems to follow its king's every whim, even down to the animals. There's no point attempting to flee if it only means being toyed with more and wasting our energy."

Her amber eyes searched the dim outside before focusing on the, to her at least, newcomer, "One way or the other, I cannot leave until I learn what happened to my pack. I owe them that much, and if we do manage to find any, they can be great allies in whatever is to come."
 
Moire appraises Fianna, suppressing a momentary elation behind the calm exterior a Paladin was expected to project. The half-elven woman had actually seen the castle's interior? She looked forward to learning what she could about what they were up against.

"You ask a fair question, my friend," Moire said with a sigh, forcing herself to consider the matter objectively. "For a Paladin to abandon a land so clearly in need of saving, it's just about unthinkable. But Ilmater doesn't expect His champions to allow their friends to face certain death without trying to save them too. You're right; we're fewer in number. From what my memories tell me, none of us are as strong as we were last time either. And we face a foe who has not only had centuries to grow stronger but who remembers us as perfectly as we remember him imperfectly. No one could be expected to face those odds without reason."

"And yet there's the other side of truth here. None of us remember how we came here in the first place. Only Syvis does, and she remembers being...snared by mists, was it? The other side of truth is that we don't know how to escape, and doing so is surely playing a game this land's master is very used to playing with his prey. Barovia is nowhere in the Realms that I know of, Fianna, unless you're a better student of geography than I am. Even if we survived to a border, there's no way of knowing what we'd find across it."

"An ancient philosopher once said 'When faced with untenable alternatives, you should consider your imperative'." Moire pats the sword at her side. "My imperative is to defend the innocent by fighting the wicked. Fighting Strahd may be certain death but running from him likely is too...and if I am to die, let it be with a sword in my hand, giving my friends and the innocents of this land any chance I can give them."

She steps back and glances at Hircus, Ina and Tegan to see if they have anything to add.
 
It seems Syvis is the only one to notice the brief signs of heightened interest from Tegan—a sharp breath through the nostrils and a transitory change in the tension of his facial muscles—at Fianna's description of "Jorten" and her time in Castle Ravenloft. But then Syvis catches Ina's eyes flitting from face to face, eventually alighting dispassionately on her own. Ina has noticed Tegan's interest as well. There's the briefest wrinkle of a smile at the corner of Ina's mouth before she brings her attention back to Fianna's tale.
 
Hircus is silent as the group reconnects with Fianna. Mostly, he stands in the corner of the room arms crossed, smiles and nods along with the recalling of their last few days. When Moire steps back and glances at the rest of them Hircus dips his head for a moment then stands more erect a puffing out his chest just a bit.

"Moire, your duty and my oath require us to walk this road, but that is not the only reason I stand against Strahd. The mists fence us in like pigs on the eve of a great feast, but that is not the only reason I stand against the Barovian lord. I stand here because I do remember how we arrived in this land. We walked shoulder to shoulder with Markovia through the mists, through the gates. We swore to liberate the people here. We died. Still, this is not the only reason I will fight this vile king. One reason above all of these compels me to do what I can to end this curse. We have been given a second chance." Hircus looks around at the faces in the room and rests for a long moment on Tegan. "I follow the road drawn by Torm. He would not have led me back here if there was not a chance we could right this wrong. The signs are too clear to ignore. So let us rest, talk and make a plan to break Strahd's hold on Barovia and on us."

The cleric gives a nod and turns back to Tegan, "Are we safe to rest here tonight?"

Turning again he faces Moire, "Do you still want to explore the temple or should we save some adventure for tomorrow?"
 
Moire's smile can't conceal her pleasure in Hircus' rousing words, even as she watches her more pragmatic companions for their reactions. She and the cleric are kin, after a fashion, in that righteousness drives them both. Although it seems each of the reborn also joined the prior holy crusade, they likely did so for more varied reasons. Moire's all too conscious of Tegan's well-mannered skepticism, of Ina's cautious nature, of Syvis seeming to favor the morals of pack rather than of priest, and now the just-returned Fianna whom the Paladin intuitively knows isn't a believer either. Companions such as these will need more than principles to drive them.

"No," she answers Hircus. "I'd thought to visit the church but the tales I've heard tonight tell me visitors have meddled too much in this town's affairs for blind investigation. We've had a spirited day's travel, a hard fight against an insane druid and much to discover among the six of us. I'd suggest we rest here for the night. It's not much of a house but it's better than the night sky. Perhaps the Vistani King's gaze will will pass over us this night. And if not..." she shrugs and adds "Better we face him a bit rested."

"It'll be up to you two, Tegan and Fianna, if you wish to risk his coach or not. Neither of you were there when he issued an invitation to us and so you might be spared his notice. My suggestion is if the coach arrives, the four of us he saw go with them and the two of you stay here to carry on the investigation as best you can. And if it doesn't arrive, then no sense in parting company before the needs of the road take us in different directions."
 

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