Party 2

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As they walked, Ezra began holding the small figurine he made when he first went to the temple of Helm all those years ago, well worn in his hands with grooves where his fingers would pass over, he tried to feel his connection to Helm, to see if it was as strong as it was the night before. He came out of his stupor when the woman came to attention "Drawn here as well? Either this happens very often, or something terrible is occurring." the half-elven man looked to the sky, dissatisfied though, not as beautiful as that of home "I am Ezra Oreth, as Draeric has already told you, servant of Helm. That rose, you must be a follower as well, not of Helm, but someone for sure? Forgive me, I recognize the symbol but forget the name" The paladin reached out a gauntleted hand towards the woman "This land is unfamiliar to us, and seems to be to you as well and I don't believe it to be safe traveling alone in a foreign land"
 
Stepping into the village you all notice just how quiet everything is. Even in a small village like Hazelhurst, or the forest paths for Lillian, there is still noise at night. You all expect to hear the sound of rodents moving around or people shuffling from bars, even the sounds from domesticated pets but there is nothing. Every so often there is the gentle flickering of one of the lamps and the faintest of whispers of wind but nothing else. In that silence your movements are amplified and every creak, rustle or footstep feels like it could betray you at any moment.

The mist doesn’t follow you into the village but the rain is ever present, a rolling damp that encompasses everything. It is the only companion you seem to have in this village with all the buildings cold and dead around you, windows either locked shut or boarded up. Spending a small amount of time looking around you finally spot some signs of life, the first you have all seen since the mists left you. Light shines through a grimy window and the sound of quiet conversation spills out over the street, nothing rowdy or joyous but definitely not the creaking of the wind or the echoing of your footsteps. There is a sign above the door that reads ‘BLOOD ON THE VINE TAVERN’.

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Henry didn't pay much mind to their new arrival, simply nodding at her as he was introduced. Walking through the empty town, Henry remembered books that his caretaker would read of heroes riding into town, the local woman coming out just to gaze at them as they majestically rode in. For some reason this scenario kept popping into his head, because this town could not be any more of the exact opposite. He had been to enough towns to know that this was just a simple over glamourization of some lonely single man, but at least towns in real life had some people milling about. This was just...creepy.

By the time they got within eyesight of the town, Henry grumbled under his breath, "Of course the bar is the only place with people in it, they've probably gotta drink to forget they're living in this shitty town." Turning to his original companions, Henry let a relieved grin cross his face as he joked, "Let's go save another bartender's kid for some free drinks, eh?" Henry then moves to enter the tavern first.
 
"Gee, Blood on the Vine...nothing creepy about that. A village that feels almost completely abandoned except for the Tavern?" Pushing the mop of wet hair away from his eyes, he was tired of the rain, the terrible corrupt fog, being completely honest, about the only things missing from the misery of the day was his 'Royal' inept tormenters from the Academy or the ultimate insult...'Tat'. It would be nice to sit near a fire and let his clothes dry out. Have a glass of wine, some hot food, that would be almost heavenly. 'Wow, away from home for a couple of months, and my standards for happiness have rapidly gone downhill.' He moved his hand to the hilt of the rapier to ensure that he had control of it, and prevent it from slapping against his leg or the door. He wasn't really worried about impressing the locals, or even his teammates. The sword had been missing from his waist and his hand.
"Let's head in Henry. Lead the way." He steps back slightly to allow Lillian and the others to enter first. 'Not like another 30 seconds or minute is going to make a difference in how wet I am.'
 
Ezra takes comfort from the soft pitter patter of rain against his shield and armor he was beginning to grow uncomfortable with his clothing below the armor being thoroughly soaked through. “This seems to be our stop then fellows? Let us see if they have answers to where we are, hopefully they could provide lodgings as well if we’re lucky enough
 
Alaer grimaces as he takes in the state if the village and a creeping feeling of dread starts grow in the back of his mind. "This place feels oddly empty especially for a town this size. Be on your guard." As the group continues to walk through the streets, the wood elf let's out a sigh of relief and grins when he notices the sounds coming from a nearby tavern. "Finally some signs of life. I was beginning to think we've wandered into a ghost town." His grin disappears as he notices the name on the tavern's sign. "Charming..." Alaer looks aside at Henry, "Judging by the mood of this damned place, I wouldn't be surprised if the kid slit our throats in our sleep. But I'm ready to head inside and get out of the rain."
 
Lillian grips her quarterstaff tightly as the group head into the town. She had just been dry and warm only moments before.

Glancing up at the name of the tavern she clicks her tongue and whispers softly under her breath "Where are we?" Just as she steps inside and stomps the mud out of her boots. "I'm sure it'll be fine guys, just stick to a buddy system and don't pop off anywhere alone".
 
"Probably very good advice Lillian. After the last two days, I'm not sure what to expect."
Drae walked into the bar behind Henry and the others, having held the door open. As the group entered, he was still curious because there were only 6 people in the bar. That seemed an incredibly small amount of people, for a village of this size. While not a worldly traveler yet, he had seen quite a few inns and taverns over the past four months. He wasn't really surprised by the stares and the odd looks at the one table. He couldn't imagine that it was often that three elves, a half-elf, and human walk into the bar. The individual sleeping at the bar was slightly new, at least it seemed a bit early in the evening for someone to be out cold. The woman knitting and smiling was a welcome sight, yet again felt as if it was an unusual activity for the bar.
'Hopefully, we can get some hot food and some drinks, dry out, figure out where by the bloody horde, that cursed fog had dropped them. Maybe If I'm really going to stretch my luck and wishes, we'll be able to get rooms as well. Seeing as how poor they look, not sure if they have ever seen a gold piece. A small price to pay to be dry and warm and get some answers.
Feeling the water puddle around his feet, he looks at the tables, 'Anything near a fire?'
 
Stepping inside the tavern you all notice that is quiet. There are a few scattered wooden tables, all having seen better days, and a large stone fireplace that houses a fire that is now mostly just embers. The conversation that you heard from outside is coming from a table in the corner that has three shabbily dressed men, possibly farmers from what you know of village life and you have seen in your travels. There is dirt on their boots and their simple clothes are threadbare and have been mended in a few different places. When you enter the men stop talking and drinking and just stare at you all, disapproval clear on their scruffy faces. This does not have the welcoming feel of Hazelhurst but it is dry and it is somewhat warm.

The other people in the tavern are a drunk with his head down asleep and drooling on the bar slightly, a stoic looking giant of a man behind the bar and a woman sat on her own at a table knitting. The barkeep is around six and a half feet tall and broad across the shoulders, he doesn't look in your direction when you enter instead focusing steadily on his mindless task of cleaning the glasses. The cloth in his hand does not look like the cleanest but he is persevering nonetheless, that slight squeak of the cloth on glass one of the only sounds left in the tavern after the conversation dies off. As soon as he finishes on glass he moves on to the next one, all without looking.

The woman at the table seems very out of place, in contrast to everyone else's drab greys and browns she is dressed in vermillion and violet and navy and gold. Each layer of her clothing seems to have a different pattern and a different colour, the first real spark of life you have seen so far in the village. She has dark red hair and kind auburn eyes, despite her wrinkles and slightly weathered skin she doesn't seem as old as you all first thought. She is knitting with two large bone needles and the pattern is seemingly a pale sunrise over a green field, although it is not finished so far. When you enter she smiles a warm, almost motherly smile at you all and puts the knitting down in a heap.

"Come in, come in. It's been a long time since we have had travelers here at the Vine. Gosh it looks dreary out there, get yourself into the warm." Her voice is gentle and sincere but it has an edge of tiredness to it. She looks to the barkeep and waves one hand. "Arik, go and fetch towels. These poor things are soaked." Turning her attention back to you as the barkeep Arik merely nods and steps into the backroom, she gestures to the seats around indicating for you all to sit down. "Oh gracious, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Sorvia and I am one of the owners of this tavern. Now what can I get for you, we have run out of food for the night I'm afraid but maybe some wine?"
 
"Indeed Madame Sorvia. Wine would be most appreciated although I believe friend Henry would prefer a good ale or something stronger."
Looking down at the puddles of water forming at his and the others feet, he quietly sighed. 'Never learned mother's knack for keeping the rain off. Then again that wasn't a topic much preferred by either parent to discuss. Looking at the dry farmers he imagined that part of the surly mood had to be a result of a day of lost farming, although he seemed to remember being told that there were always more chires to do than time to do them... 'Interesting.'
"As for food, while a warm meal would have gone far, if'n it would not cause offense to ye and the others, we do have some rations of our own that we can partake of."
Rubbing his forehead for a second or two, he can hear thebvoices of instructors, parents and nobles talking about manners and customs. Do this, dont do that, no talking about that topic. 'Blood and orc piss I just want a warm room, some food and the loving gods be generous, a few answers. Pompous arses. Can I never be free of ye taint.'
"After that fair and wonderful lady, if', ye be able, a chance to talk about the area?"
 
Alaer looks around the room with a curious eye, examining each individual before settling his gaze on the finely dressed woman. In such a dreary, run down tavern, Sorvia looked strangely out of place. Alaer gives a respectful nod to Sorvia, "Thank you for such a warm welcome Ms. Sorvia. After walking in that rain for gods know how long, this tavern really is a life saver. I'll take some ale if you have any. And forgive me for asking, but how did a woman such as yourself come to own such a tavern? From how well your dressed, you don't look to be the type to spend their time in places... as homely as this."
 
Seeing that everyone was just staring at the group as Henry was the first to walk through the doors, he instinctively glared back at them with an almost challenging expression. His gaze softened however when he hear Sorvia speak, and Henry allowed his stance to relax as the thought of warm, dry towels was brought up. When Drae suggested that Henry might like an ale, Henry let out a short bark of laughter. "Me? Want ale? Gods, Drae, I would rather drink orc piss than that shi -- er stuff." Realizing he was in a new place, Henry figured he should keep his language in check. He took a quick glance around the establishment, noting its less fine qualities, and decides that even the wine here might taste like orc piss. "Nothing to drink for me, thanks. I'll be fine with the rations." Henry then moves to find a table for them to sit at while the others ask Sorvia questions.
 
"I'll pass on the wine too" Lillian says as she glances over at Sorvia with a smile. Lillian follows along to the tables and throws her bag, shield and staff down to allow them to drip dry.

"Is that weather outside normal for this part of the country? She stammers a bit as she realises her real question. "Actually, what part of the country is this?"
 
“Wine is something I could be interested in, perhaps only a single glass though Ma’am” Ezra approaches the barkeep and sat on one fin the stools a bit away from the slumped over man. “My companions and I have some questions I believe. My first one is about the fog, is it always around here?”
 
Arik the barkeep returns with a pile of towels and whilst they might not be luxury they are clean and dry. Instead of handing them out he merely drops them on the table next to Sorvia's knitting and moves back behind the bar where he goes to start cleaning the glasses again until he hears that Draeric and Ezra want win he picks out a bottle of red from the bar behind him and pours out two glasses. He places them onto the bar and then picks up the nearest empty glass to him and moves back to his familiar glass cleaning routine. After a second he taps the bar counter once next to each glass before speaking in a low, rumbling voice with no pomp or ceremony. "One rat-tooth each."

Sorvia gestures to the tables and chairs around her as you all take towels, a slightly flustered look on her face but the smile staying put. "Sit, sit, sit. Goodness, so many questions. Where to start? Oh food! By all means if you have your own then go ahead, normally in the day we have a pretty good kitchen if I say so myself. Oh but no ale sorry, we only have wine here. We could maybe get some ale from Bildrath tomorrow if you ask Alenka in the morning but it would be more expensive than the wine sorry." The older looking woman counts on her fingers for a second before turning to Alaer with a small chuckle to herself. "Thank you very much but I own the tavern with my sisters, we were given it as payment for freeing a man from a curse from killing a raven when we were much younger and we settled down here ever since."

"The weather? It is wetter than usual but it is always dreary around here. You must be foreigners, travelers from other lands if you don't know about Barovian weather. Did you come from Mordent, or Nova Vaasa? Maybe from Darkon?" Sorvia thinks for a second and then clicks her fingers. "Maybe you are not from the Core at all. True outsiders brought by the mists. Fascinating." She leans closer in and seems to study you all in more detail for a moment. "Fascinating indeed. Well, welcome to the Village of Barovia." She turns to Ezra with a slight frown. "You mean the mists? The mists are wherever they want to be. Were you not brought here by a Vistani?" The older woman seems to realise how much she has been chatting and stops, waving her hands apologetically. "Look at me, jabbering away when it is so late. You must all be very tired indeed. Will you be needing rooms? How many?"
 
Drae picked up the towel and started drying his hair and face first when he heard the barkeep ask for payment in rat tooth. 'Rat tooth? Rat tooth? Is that another name for gold or somesuch? I really hope it's not a real rat tooth?' As he gets ready to ask the question to the barkeep, he heard Ms. Sorvia's conversation. 'Bildath? I've never heard of that in any of my geography classes in Everska. I knew we were far from Hazelhurst, but ORCPISS! HOW FAR DID WE TRAVEL?'

"Barovia..." His legs, start trembling, and he sits down at the table. "Mordent, Nova Vaasa, Darkon? I was forced to study the maps and regions of the Realms since I was a youngling in the court. I was grilled daily by my brother, parents, teachers..." Shaking his head, almost as if in disbelief. "I knew there was a taint to the weave, and that the mists weren't natural, but...by the blasted blood of the Nobles...what has happened..."

His mind races through multiple concepts, avenues, possibilities. Trying to process all of the implications of the mists, this village, and this Vistani...

"Henry give her the letter...We're going to have to figure out a barter system, Mistress Sorvia"
 
Henry looks back at Drae with a blank expression for a moment. 'Letter? What letter? Were we supposed to bring a lett -- ohhh.' Once he finally realized what letter Drae was talking about, the events of the past few hours causing him to totally forget about the letter. Digging into his bag, Henry pulled out the letter that was left by Arrigal, trying to discreetly smooth out the wrinkles in the fine paper that had formed due to his lack of care in his placement of the letter in the back. He passed it over to Sorvia, finally realizing that she had mentioned the name of the city none of them had heard of -- Barovia! They made it! They must really be in the middle of nowhere, and Henry didn't even care enough to try and figure out the whole 'mists' thing. As he passed her the letter he added "I believe we are going to need 4 beds -- er, sorry, 5 beds. However many rooms that would accommodate that madame."
 
Lillian gives a quizzical look towards Henry and Drae as she sits at a table and tries to dry her sleeves with her hands. "Letter? What letter?"
 
Alaer raises an eyebrow and puts a hand to his chin. Barovia? Well that is awfully convenient. I wonder if us being was by design or mere coincidence. Does the mysterious man we met back in Hazlehurst have a hand in this? There's defnitely a connection. Time will tell what that connection is. "A rat-tooth? What the hells is a rat-tooth?" At the mention of the Vistani, Alaer's ears perk up, "That would explain a lot. I had a suspicion that man had a part in our predicament, but this confirms it. Mr. Arrigal, the man we met back at Hazlehurst, did mention he was a part of this Vistani. He must be the reason we're in Barovia and the cause of all that strange mist. "
 
Wanting to rub his temples and deal with the start of a rapidly growing headache, Drae lifts his eyes to the cleric. "Mistress Lillian, I would recommend relaxing for a few seconds and try to suspend your notions of disbelief...because I am having a problem with it and I experienced it." Closing his eyes, as he continues to rub gently at the temples again. "Actually, that was a bit arrogant of me, WE all experienced it. Less than 24 hours ago..." Shaking his head slightly in disbelief... 'Really, less than 24 hours ago this all started? What the hell did they do to the weave and the world....'
"WE" ensuring that everyone was included "were 'interviewed' by a Mr. Arrigal, who claimed to be of this Vistani. This was something that none of us had ever heard of before and not to bash my fine friend Henry, I've had enough geography and history shoved down my throat for several of his lifetimes and had never heard of it. This was followed by a letter, stating that we had been offered a job in 'Barovia', again I've had decades and decades of research and classes and knew of no such place in the realms." Bringing his fingers up from his head and temples, he pushed it back through his hair, to get it out of the way. "We were hired to come here and cure a young lady of a curse...a 'Burgomeister'" He says the last word as if it were foreign and novel and getting the feel for how to say it "offered a goodly sum, to us at least, to read the letter. We discussed this last night and accepted among ourselves. We were in the town just this morning, when a mysterious fog, similar to the one that we found you in, just outside of this town in and on the ground. So in the space of fewer than 24 hours, we have gone from a bar fight to a brand new bar...in a country, place...whatever that I have no idea about or where to begin...."
He lifts his head up and looks Lillian in the eyes, and then continued..."I would not blame you if you wished to leave or thought that I was a liar or fancy bard spinning a tale for a crowded inn, however, it did happen, and we are here. Wherever here is, isn't that right Madame Sorvia?"
 
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Sorvia looks very confused at the massive amount of activity suddenly going on around her at night. She holds up her hands to try and calm everything down before taking the letter and pulling out a small, thin set of reading glasses that she places on her nose. She is distracted by Alaer's question though and gives the man a warm, understanding smile. "I'm sorry, I'm not used to people who aren't local. A rat's tooth is a copper coin, a raven's claw is a silver piece and a wolf's fang is a gold piece. I will try and remember in future though." She frowns at the mention of the name Arrigal though and shakes her head slightly, muttering to herself. "Arrigal Zarovan? Dear me, he's been traveling the mists now? Dear me." She looks up and gives a slightly wavering smile to Alaer. "I am sorry, this Arrigal is indeed a Vistani as am I. I will not speak ill of other Vistani but I would prefer it if you did not judge all of us by his example."

She sighs a little and pats Draeric's hand kindly. "You have a thousand questions and you ask them as though they will escape from you if you don't. Relax a little, it's late. There is plenty of time for answers. Let's see what we can answer now shall we? Yes you are in Barovia, one of the domains of Ravenloft. The other places I mentioned they are other domains of Ravenloft as well. The mists that surround the domains have a mind of their own and can steal people away, although it is rare to travel the mists not accompanied by a Vistani. We are fortune tellers and travelers but most of all we are the only ones able to navigate the mists between domains. Now let's take a look at this letter okay?"

The woman pushes her glasses up a little more and peeks at the letter, tutting in parts. When she finishes she puts the letter down and shakes her head slightly. "Well, there are a few things wrong with this letter. The Burgomeister mentioned has unfortunately passed on recently, his son Ismark has taken over the role and he lives in the mansion in the village. His sister Ireena is well enough, if a little sickly sometimes but I worry that this message aludes to... things that shouldn't be talked of at night." She nods as if that is that, clearly firm on her unwillingness to speak further on the matter. Instead she pulls out a book and a pen and looks over to Henry. "Rooms are fine we can definitely do those. So I would say probably three rooms? I'm sure you boys don't mind sharing. Now, if you don't mind can I take your names and we can get this noted down and you can have your keys. The rooms will be two silver pieces each."
 
Drae breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Mistress Sorvia explained about the coins and the different names. 'That eliminates some of the need for bartering or immediately finding work, but still not able to go crazy or get too comfortable here, not that I think this 'Ravenloft' would allow us to...'

As she continued on about the mists, he noticed that she kept referring to them as if they were almost alive. If that was indeed the case, that would explain some of the major fluctuations in the weave that he had felt for the last 24 hours. It also made his forehead scrunch down in thought as he wondered just how 'sentient' the mists were. Picking up the very 'loud' message from the innkeeper, some things were simply not discussed at night. While in the past he would have scoffed and thought they were simply ignorant villagers or simpletons, this did not feel the case at all. He had earned high marks from his instructors for being able to quickly assess a situation. These people clearly believed and knew that the mists were NOT natural and that there were major threats in the night.
On one hand, that implied that they would be able to have work and be able to make a significant difference to the realm or domain while they were here. The bad point, if she were to be fully believed was that getting home would require some major luck, time and assistance from these Vistani.

Pulling his pouch off of his hip, he put five gold on the table and slid them over to the colorful lady. "Five days for now. I have a feeling that we are not going anywhere quickly. The fourth and fifth shall be for drinks and food for those days as well. Your patience and explanations have helped in a few ways to lighten my mental load for a bit. If you or your sisters are around in the morning, I would definitely think that a more detailed and in-depth discussion will need to happen if we are to avoid any major pitfalls. As for not wanting to be judged by the actions of others of my race or lineage, I am quite familiar and will give all Vistani a fair chance." Looking at his teammates and the newest addition to the team Lillian, he felt confident in their abilities and strengths. Now to see, if they were up to the challenges that were to come.

And if nothing else, he was about as far away from Tat and the royals as he could possibly get. "<Dôl lín cofn tel’athims. Auta miqula orqu.>" (Empty headed arrogant pricks. Go kiss an orc!) He said quietly under his breath as he looked around the inn that would be their home for the next few days.

"My name for the register is Draeric Nire'way of Evereska, not that it would have much impact or meaning here...which is not a bad thing, I do be thinking."
 
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'So his full name is Arrigal Zarovan? Based on how Sorvia described him, Mr. Arrigal is someone we'll have to worry about in the near future. I wonder what tricks that mysterious man has up his sleeves. I hope we don't end up dancing under his strings.' Alaer gives a respectful nod to the innkeeper, "You can call me Alaer. When we arrived here, we were like a wolf cub lost in the midst of a dark forest. Your explanations have illuminated quite a bit for us."
 
Ezra sat with his head in his hands, staring at the table as he nursed the wine. He wasn’t much for conversation when it came to times like these. He soaked up the room around himself and thought of Helm, he thought of this place he was in, what this woman was speaking of “F-for the record” the half elf coughed, clearing his throat “My name is Ezra, Ezra Oreth. This land, do the Gods reach this place?”
 
Henry was a little annoyed that this woman wouldn't answer all of their questions, but he had to admit that he didn't even want to attempt to understand all of this that was happening anymore; the idea of a nice bed just made his muscles ache to be horizontal. He digs out two silver to pay for his room, but noticed Drae hand a small stack of gold, so he simply raised an eyebrow and put his silver back in his pouch. "Name's Henry Hutchward," Henry said shortly. Feeling the heat of the glares that the 3 people at the table were giving him, Henry turned towards them and just stared back as he waited for the key.
 
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