Party 5

[roSpEnTo]

Carwyn looks over the town as he walks through, noting the lack of any verve or spirit from the people. He frowns to himself and stops for a moment as if to call out to one of the villagers but shakes his head and carries on walking. There was so much wrong with this place so much that was missing. Around this time in any of the villages in Daggerford there would be children playing on the street and some bustle from the coming and goings of different workers. 'Maybe there has been some sort of tragedy or recent event that has taken all the joy of these people's lives.' The thought goes through his head but he is unsure. He will have to ask Mirabel it seems like she, at least, is not shy of offering information. He wasn't bothered by her distance from the church, plenty of people worship the gods in their own private ways or did not worship them at all. That was not for him to pry into, Eldath entreated people to find their own way to her peace rather than be lead there by others.

Whilst musing on why everyone seemed to be moving in a single direction, no matter their starting point, his eyes catch a figure coming out of the church before sneaking off to one side. That strikes him as odd as people didn't really sneak out of places of worship unless they were stealing things or had something to hide, that was true of anything really but doubly so places that drew the divine eye to them. He feels a sense of unease towards the wellbeing of the priest or priestess that may be inside and quickens his pace slightly, trying not to run as not to draw any sort of attention to himself.

He reaches the church doors and thinks about following the figure off to one side for a second but decides against it, better to check on the people inside. He stops when he notices the marks and gently runs his fingers through the claw grooves. That flash of anger from yesterday blossoms in his chest and he has to take a second to fight it and push it back down again. Seems like this village might have problems with werewolves which would explain them bringing Edmon back towards here. Iselka had mentioned that her pack had been taken over by a foreign pack, could they have been from here? He gets a little lost in thought as he steps inside and looks around. He does catch the glimpse of candles and lights seemingly everywhere although he could not work out any religious iconography, whomever this chapel was dedicated to they clearly believed in the presence of the light. Carwyn found that almost comforting as despite it not featuring heavily in any text from Eldath he had yet to come across a god of light that did not promote themselves as a force for positive change in the world.

He wanders inside the main room and freezes a bit when he sees the inhabitants, definitely not expecting to see a werewolf and an elf talking to a priest. It almost seemed like the start of a joke. He is temporarily calmed by the presence of Balion though as the elf was rarely flustered by anything and if there had been any trouble or any issues he would be willing to help resolve them he was sure. He smiles at the ranger and nods once. He looks the older priest up and down, noticing once again the repeated theme of light in his costume. He is relieved that there doesn't seem to be any sign of injury or issue. He returns the bow, although not used to the etiquette and so unsure as to whether he had done it correctly. "Greetings father. I am not here to pray although it is nice to hear the question, thank you." He gestures to his robe and shield before giving the man a warm smile. "I am new here, a companion of the other two you have in front of you, but I am also a priest. May I ask which deity this chapel is dedicated to? I am a freewalker of Eldath so I do not have a chapel to run but I thought I would stop by as I have some questions about the presence of the gods here. However I understand if you would prefer to discuss such religious matters privately but I can assure you I trust both of these people to be able to have a still tongue." He looks to the other two but he is keen to ask his questions and get some information into that strange feeling of distance between him and his goddess.

Carywn smiles at his compatriots and gestures out of the church towards the inn. "Everyone seems to be settled. I left the boy with Fauntleroy, he's a bright lad it seems so I'm sure she will be having him doing sums or diagrams before the day is ended." He laughs but is caught a little off guard when he sees Iselka's posture and mood, the wolf girl seeming on edge about something. 'Why does she keep looking at the door, is it something to do with that other figure?' Carwyn stiffens as he gets a sudden rush of cold air run over his skin and he almost shivers, telling himself the werewolves had gone he had nothing to panic about, the claw marks weren't recent and the werewolves from the forest were dead. He takes a few seconds to compose himself if he didn't let the anger win earlier he was not going to allow the panic to get a foothold here either.

He puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and hopes that will help to calm things down. He speaks in a quiet voice to her, eyes scanning the room for any sort of issue, although it is not low enough as to seem rude towards the priest. "Iselka is everything okay? You seem tense. Is there something I should be concerned about?" His hand moves towards the hilt of his mace but he doesn't un-clip it from his belt or draw it straight away, instead more looking for the calming presence of the weapon just in case things went badly. He looks over to Balion and talks quickly in halfing, pausing to smile at the priest halfway through. "<Who was the person who left before? What has happened here? Is everything okay?>" His mind is racing but he is forcing it under control, he will stay calm.

 

[LAmPailk]

“Hm.” Fauntleroy purses her lips before she lets out a small sigh. “I’ll tell Master Carwyn not to interrupt me next time.” It hardly seems fair to take her annoyance out on the boy. He seems bright enough, and she can hardly blame him for Carwyn’s rude interruption.

She studies Edmon’s face, before nodding. “That is settled then,” she decides. “It might be a while longer until you get to return home, I’m afraid. I don’t know where you are from, but unless it’s from this ‘Barovia’, you are a long way from home, just like the rest of us.” Vaguely she realizes that the child is the first one she is telling the news to. She hasn’t had the chance to tell any of the others about the mists yet.

 

[SlyCooperKing]

"I appreciate the compliment. I hope to be a guild member of the merchants guild along the sword coast at some point!" hearing the this man basically admit to being a rouge element in this region gimble gives him a jab of his elbow "Don't worry Gerbruht, I an't gonna tell a soul." Gimble gives his shoulders a stretch as he gives ore thought about this man's origins.

Listening to his questions about Faerun, and the Sword Coast. Gimble looks around for the first time his surroundings really sinking into him I'm not in Faerun anymore? His thoughts race "There's no way a self proclaimed seeker of knowledge wouldn't know about the biggest and baddest continent in Abeir-Toril?! No I may not even be in my world anymore..." Gimble almost tunes Gerbruht out as his face drains of color. Then it all connects when he mentions the mists. "Yes... it does seem like that is the case." Looking back up at his newly acquired contact he nods "Gerbruht, thank you for being a good sport an' a kind soul. I hope we meet again sometime soon, but I need ta break this news to my companions." Sliding off the stool he calls back "I owe you a small favor for this friend." and hurries to Fauntleroy, sure that she would know what to do more than he with this knowledge.

Approaching the Professor and the boy Gimble's brow is furrowed and he is constantly stretching his fingers. "Sorry to interrupt Prof, but I have some strange news." Gimble gets onto a stool before proceeding. "We may not be in Abeir-Toril anymore much less Faerun... That gentleman over there was spouting off landmarks an' towns I ain't never heard of. I believe that those mists may have something to do with it..." Looking down at Edmond he gives a consoling shrug "It seems like it may be awhile till we get ya back home lad." Looking back towards Fauntleroy he says "We probably need more information on this Strahd fellow, an' the surrounding geography. We know Vallki is to the north an' the Gundarakites settlement is to the south, an that the castle is close by. Beyond that we are kind of in the blank. The man I talked to mentioned. Kartakass, Skald, and Harmonia, not so sure they are as close." Gimble gives a sigh "This rescue job just got a whole lot more complicated. When Sorvia was mentioning this early I... I didn't want to believe it." Gimble turns towards the bar "I just want some hot food now."

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Church of the Morninglord:

The priest nods at Carwyn, gripping the sides of the wooden bench for support. "It is good to see another devoted, though I am unfamiliar with your faith. Not that many visitors frequent this doorstep regardless." He gestures over to a pair faded tapestries behind a row of candles, easy to miss amidst all the flickering lights. One is printed with an unfamiliar circular emblem, while the other depicts the faded potrait of an elven man with golden-yellow complexion and fiery eyes, his perfect visage contrasted by a smear of red at the edge of his mouth. "Like the others you are always welcome in the house of the Morninglord, child. I am its humble keeper; you may call me Father Donovan or simply Donovan."

At the mention of the presence of the gods he tilts his head curiously, his expression tinged with a bit of concern. "Their presence 'here'? As in Barovia? I am afraid I can only attest to my own experiences, but I will surely answer to the best of my abilities."

Iselka raises an eyebrow at Carwyn's touch, then after a moment shakes her head. "Sorry, um... I think it's the smell. It's a bit much for me." She sniffles her nose again, looking between Carwyn and Balion and Donovan. "I'm not really good at this religious talk... I just thought it'd be a peaceful place to wander around. You two might be better at conversation or getting directions anyway -- there was some mention of a pool or something with people that could help." Once more she looks to the door, as if absentmindedly contemplating something. "Maybe I should go... clear my head."

​

 

[Harmon]

Balion turns as Carwyn comes into the church and gives a small smile and nod his way. He turns back to Father Donovan as Carwyn began to ask about the presence of gods here and listened in but the information was par the course for what they've had before. 'Can't say we know about anything involving these strange places or things you speak of.' Balion has come to expect not being able to get answers, or a straight one at least, until they perhaps seek out the people and location they told him of.

Watching the exchange between Carwin and Iselka he gives her another small smile. "If you need a moment to yourself to think about all we spoke of I understand, but your company will be missed. We can always talk later, the turning of my wheel can easily be made to accommodate yours." Then he looks to Carwin, slightly quirking his eyebrow and tilting his head. He responds in Halfing. "<The person who left before is a local hunter, she and the Father gave us some information on where we might get a few answers about how we got here and where here is compared to where we were.>" He pauses and looks around a little before continuing. "<The father said they have been subject to wolf attacks and that many of the people here aren't very devout, though they seem to respect the Father for his assistance in providing storage space for them. Other than the obvious signs of conflict in the past though things have been...amicable since we came to their door.>"

 

[roSpEnTo]

Carwyn is caught off guard when the man mentions the Morninglord. Edmon's god Lathander was also known as the Morninglord, why did he travel here and have a church erected in his honour but no-one has heard of Eldath at all or freewalkers. This wasn't right at all but to get true answers to his questions he knows he will have to trust Donovan with a measure of information. He takes a quick breath, saying a silent prayer to Eldath, and speaks to the priest. "Donovan, wonderful to meet you. My name is Carwyn. We are here as we followed some werewolves into the mists chasing after a boy they had taken. We rescued the boy but found ourselves just outside the village. Now I do not need to be in the land of my home to be able to help people, think of a freewalker as a traveling priest. But I do want to get the boy home to his family as soon as possible. There is a strangeness in my connection to my goddess though, it feels as though I am getting her power through a filter somehow."

He looks to his hands and feels the familiar guidance prayer start, and then fade, crackling magic across his hand. "It is still present but it is different and I will admit that it concerns me." He looks back to the tapestries and sighs a little. "Back in my home we also have a deity called the Morninglord. His name is Lathander and he is the god of creativity, rebirth and dawn, I wonder if this Morninglord is the same or a different deity with the same name? Are there any other gods worshiped in your land?"

Carwyn takes his hand off Iselka's arm and nods with a concerned look. He whispers to her, knowing that her excellent hearing will be able to pick up what he says. "I can understand why you are on edge. Please do not go too far, I would worry given the strangeness of these lands. We all care about you." He lets her leave if that is what she wants to do, trusting in her ability to find them again if she leaves the village but worried about what is bothering her wolf-nose. It sets him a little on edge. Balion's information however tips him over and his hand flies to the mace on his belt as if by instinct. It takes a second for the cleric to remember where he is and who he is with and, letting out a large sigh, he lets go of the weapon and holds his hands up in apology.

"I am sorry Balion, Donovan. But still news of wolf attacks set my teeth on edge." Now a little calmer he looks to Balion and switches back to halfling "<That is all very helpful thank you. Do you think these wolves are in the same pack as the ones who took the boy? Is there anything this hunter knew about them? Can we reach her to speak to her again? Ahh... too many questions for you to answer at once. I apologise friend.>" He moves to stand over by the elf hoping that the ranger's calmness will wash over him and prevent anymore potentially violent outbursts. However all that comes to his mind is the image of Edmon, huddled in a heap on the floor and crying as the wolves stood above him and taunting him.

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Blood of the Vine Tavern:

Gerbruht raises an eyebrow as Gimble abruptly leaves the conversation, mulling it over as he finishes the last of his drink. "An outsider huh...? Well, got to figure it out one way or another," he mutters to himself, before leaning back and glancing over his shoulder as he calls out. "Did ya catch all that, lad? Or maybe you're needing this ol' man to help you out with those crates?"

Not too far behind near the edge of the room is the young delivery man from before, having stopped by an empty table to set down his crate and take a breather when he had seemingly picked up on the conversation at hand. When he's called out for eavesdropping his face goes red, and he quickly picks up the crate again and starts to move, but not before stopping himself and managing a small awkward bow, crate in hand. "S-sorry 'bout that...'" Not looking back up he doubles down towards the kitchen door and kicks it shut behind him. A muffled complaint can be heard behind it soon after, though it is lost in the noise of conversation.

Gerbruht merely smirks and turns back to his table, pulling a small notebook out of his pack and starting to scribble things down. "How interesting indeed... bartender, just some water if you will," he says, waving down Arik with his free hand as the larger man walks over to take his emptied wine pitcher.

----------------

Edmon opens his mouth as if to say something in response to Fauntleroy's statement, but is interrupted mid-thought by Gimble's sudden arrival and spiel about not being in Faerûn anymore. While the boy frowns and seems a bit tense at the subject being brought up again, he does not appear to be nearly as shocked as the gnome who almost seems like he was hearing it for the first time. "Well yeah... they told us... last night." He turns back to Fauntleroy, shaking his head slowly. "... No, I'm not from around here. But I guess I... can just stay with you guys for now... if that's alright."

He absentmindedly pokes at the edge of Fauntleroy's spellbook, staring blankly in that direction as if trying to gather meaning in the archaic arcane sigils -- or thinking distantly about something else altogether. "... I don't want to be too much a bother... you already came all the way out here..." He pauses as if he realizes what he's doing and pulls back his hand, not wanting to damage the professor's property.

----------------

Moving back to the bar after passing the older gentleman a glass of water Arik nods slowly at Gimble, methodically making another pass across all of the tables for empty plates and glasses before placing them in the sink and moving towards the kitchen door and opening it. He returns to the bar promptly to start washing all of the newly dirtied dishes, and soon after Mirabel returns with a wide brimming smile, carrying in hand a platter of freshly roasted chicken with a side of potatoes and other green vegetables.

"I heard someone was hungry~~?" A ever-wide smile on her face, she makes her way back to the table where the group was sat and sliding it over to Gimble. "I'm still busy trying to prep for the lunch rush but for your group I can manage a little advance service~~" she says with a wink. "The restock was lower than usual this time so I'll have to charge ya another one of your shiny dragon gold pieces per plate, only fair enough. Arik will keep tabs on your... well, tab. Anyway, ta-ta for now~~!" She gives a quick wave, then pops back into the kitchen without waiting for a reply.

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Church of the Morninglord:

Iselka nods at Balion and Carwyn, clutching her cloak a bit closer as she pushes herself off of the wooden bench. She flashes a small smile back. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll find my way back." She turns back to the priest and tries to give a small bow, brushing some of her frazzled hair out of her face. "Thank you for accomodating me, Father. You have given me much to think about."

Donovan glances curiously at Iselka, but ultimately nods. "I do not know what ails you child, but you are always welcome back if you need guidance." She nods back and starts to weave through the pews towards the door, but not before passing by Balion and leaning in for a slight whisper. "... Keep on your guard. There was something off about that woman and I don't like what it means." Without looking back she pats the elf on the shoulder and continues out the doors, closing them firmly shut behind her with a slight thud.

Turning back to the two that were still present, Donovan thinks carefully about Carwyn's story. "... Yes, your friends had told me just as much about being outsiders to this land. I have no knowledge to offer on this end, but as mentioned before perhaps you will find assistance from the Vistani. Normally they are nomadic but in Barovia they seem to keep a permanent camp by the Tser Pool, from what I hear. I do not travel much these days," he adds, fiddling with his garments.

He continues on. "I have not heard of the name Lathander, by the writings of our founder Martyn Pelkar he has only ever been known as the Morninglord within these lands. Neither have I heard of him representing creativity or rebirth." He gestures up to the second tapestry of the golden man; looking closer, the smear on his face is tinged with the red of blood. "For us, the Morninglord is the herald of salvation through the morning light; he is the affirmation that even the darkest night must give way to dawn. To his worshippers he promises salvation to all the hopeless and justice to all the evildoers -- not by man's law, which he has transcended, but by our hand and by the tortuous paths of faith."

Standing up, he starts circling around the room again, picking up a candlestick off the floor and using it to light another which had gone out. "The Barovian people are not terribly religious to begin with, though there are a few faiths with some following. Ezra, Hala, the Lawgiver among them, mostly from travelers and the occasional visiting missionary or anchorite. Even the Morninglord's faith has waned in recent decades... though I have heard that the centre of his faith now lies within Gundarakite territory, as his word resonates more strongly with their people." He nods solemnly at that statement, gripping his prayer beads out of habit. He then turns back to Carwyn, noting his own attempt at prayer. "As for your connection to your deity... I cannot say, I have never truly felt the Morninglord's presence within me. All I know is that he works through me, and in times of need I can manifest his healing light if need be."

 

[roSpEnTo]

Carwyn watches Iselka go before he turns to the priest with a smile on his face. "The salvation of the morning light is a truly noble thing to follow, I know myself that I have been comforted by the break of dawn on bad nights. Our boy will be happy that there is a god of the dawn here at least, some familiarity for the lad." Watching the priest light the candles Carwyn looks around the room again, despite the obvious depilatory problems it was an impressive structure. "My goddess is one of peace and of calm waters, our worship was conducted in an open grove in the forest with only some small huts for us who lived there. I have always been amazed by the buildings of other faiths, so sturdy and absolute. Thank you Donovan." He moves to the priest and pats him on the shoulder in a friendly way, clergyman to clergyman. "Your words have provided some reassurance at least that there is some divine presence here, not just unease and darkness. It gives me hope that Eldath can still reach me here if needed. However I disagree with you, if you can use healing magic then you are definitely feeling the presence of your god. You seem a dedicated man Donovan, please allow me to say a prayer for you." He lays his hand on the priests up arm and says a short prayer to Eldath in Celestial, casting her guidance onto the older man. He looks over to Balion with a nod and speaks in common this time. "I am ready to leave when you are, friend." With that Carwyn makes his way out towards the exit of the church, to look over the village and the grounds from the doorway and wait for his companion.

 

[LAmPailk]

Fauntleroy tries and fails not to grit her teeth and yet another interruption. She doesn’t even try a smile, but does wonder why she even tries, sometimes. “I was in the middle of telling young Edmon as much,” she says. “It’s an unfortunate situation for him, but I think it is a good chance to see some fascinating magic at work.”

She considers it for a moment, remembering the strange elves that had been mentioned before, the new names. If she can have it all written down and bring substantial proof, she’d be able to gain some academic standing. It would go a long way towards grants.

Belatedly she realizes the child seems to be worried. She purses her lips for a few moments before sighing. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’m sure Master Carywn would rather resort to measures of violence than leave you behind somewhere.” She nods approvingly at the way Edmon draws his hand back. “You can look, but I’d rather you’d not touch for now.”

 

[Harmon]

Balion begins to internally play back his encounter before Carwyn arrived. Their talk of the gods and religion seeming to give him excuse to not fully pay attention as he tries to pull to mind the details asked of him. Hearing Carwyn direct a comment to him he seems to resurface from his thinking and gives a nod. He turns to Donovan "If our friend, Iselka, comes back looking for us could you be so kind as to tell her we returned to our lodging? Thank you." Balion then turns to Carwyn. "Mm yes, I believe we should return to the others." He would then begin to head towards the exit unless Donovan or Carwyn stopped him.

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Church of the Morninglord:

"Your boy...? Donovan seems to think for a long moment before finally nodding, a solemn expression across his face. "I will pray that the Morninglord lights the path home for him, as I am sure He does for all His faithful." As he says that he lights yet another candle, seeming to contemplate something in its newly borne flame before finally blowing out the dwindling match in his hand. "Perhaps you are right, there is a presence there. Though I hope I have many years more to seek that truth myself."

Brushing the ash off his fingers, he walks to the front door to see them out. "I will be sure to inform your friend if she returns here. Dawn's blessing to you all," he says, pushing open the doors and turning to the others. He pauses for a moment, as if deciding whether to say something more. He eventually relents. "... If you come across a young man named Dorian Budescu in your travels, be sure to send him home to Barovia would you? My wayward son left a year ago to seek his own path in life, and I have not seen him back since." He exhales at the request, as if it let a load off his chest to say it out loud.


Blood of the Vine Tavern:

Edmon looks up at Fauntleroy with a slightly confused expression, frowning at the idea of an "unfortunate situation" and at Carwyn resorting to violence. "Um... good to know?" he says hesitantly, fiddling with his baggy clothes as if he's unsure how to continue the conversation. "I'd rather... it not get to that point though." After a bit of awkward silence he turns away, and his gaze wanders around the room until he seems to fixate on something in the distance, as if starting to zone out into a daydream.

----------------

The delivery man from before creeps back inside, carrying another crate towards the kitchen and avoiding looking in Gerbruht's direction best he can. Following in after him is a lanky slightly older man, wearing an old oversized coat and pants as well as a tired expression. He waves to catch Arik's attention. "Morning, barkeep. Is Mirabel around right now?"

The bartender nods slowly in response, setting down his cleaning rags again to go and knock on the kitchen door. "Yes? What is it this time?" Mirabel's head pops out, and she raises an eyebrow at Arik before her eyes light up at seeing the other man. "Oho, Ismark! How's my best customer doing this fine morning?"

He flashes an uneasy smile, adjusting his coat. "I'm fine, Mirabel, thanks. Busy as usual. Speaking of which..." He frowns, reaching into one of his pockets for a bulky coin pouch. "...I heard my uncle was here late last night? I'm here to pay his tab."

"I'm sure the new burgomeister is up to his eyeballs in busywork," Mirabel says with a laugh, cutting above the typical quieted conversation in the tavern. "Sorvia did leave a note last night about some gentleman that was here until the morning... now where did I put it..." She pats herself down eventually pulling a crumpled up paper out of her breast pocket, then flattens it against the bar counter to read it. "Right, that'll be... four wolf-fangs, one raven-claw and two rat-tooths," she says, squinting a bit before looking back up at Ismark. "Oh, and three ravens for your usual. Shipment's in today."

Ismark balks at the price, but sighs in resignation and counts out five gold pieces in total, taking a seat by the bar and sliding them over in a neat pile. "...I'll take two then, and keep the change for dealing with him." On cue Arik reaches into one of the newly delivered crates and takes out a wine bottle, popping it open and pouring two glasses for him. He nods in thanks before rubbing his temples, fishing some papers out of his bag and starting to pore through them while taking a sip.

 

[Harmon]

Balion pauses as he makes his way through the doors Donovan had opened for them. He quirks his head slightly and the corners of his mouth turn downward ever so slightly in a worried frown. "Description?" He asks simply. "That way we can more easily notice them and maybe, just maybe, set the turning of his wheel back home for you." He then shifts his weight slightly so the entirety of his gaze can fall on Donovan.

 

[SlyCooperKing]

Gimble looks up from the ground as warm food wafts his nose. "Ah, this 'as gotten mah spirits up." Smiling a bit as he starts eating his meal. Then turns to Fauntleroy at her "Speaking of magic at work, why don't we start on those lessons? The first gnome in gets the gems, heh. You know I can do one spell but that 'ad been passed down to me from me mom." Strectching his fingers a bit he continues "In your expert opinion Proff, where do you think we should start?"

Hearing Edmond's concerns he says "best be prepared for anything lad, taking lessons from Bry- ehh... the Prof here is the best thing you can do for yourself, An, if you ain't cut out for that. I can always show you how a rat goes through life." chuckling at his subtle self-deprecation he concludes. "You should always be ready for some confrontation, best choose how you'll deal with it young." Gimble picks his fork and knife back up to cut into the meat trying to enjoy his meal while he can.

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Church of the Morninglord:

Donovan seems to mull it over when Balion asks, gripping the edge of the door when he speaks. "... Brown hair, he usually wore it down to his shoulders. Stands half a head taller than your friend there and looks about as old," he says, gesturing to Carwyn. "Lanky, but always had some muscle on him -- I used to have him dig the graves when my back couldn't handle it. But I know he always wanted to do more than just dig graves in this tired old village ... so I let him go."

His gaze drifts upwards to the overcast sky where the sun was naught but a vague silhouette. "And of course, his hazel eyes that flickered gold in the right light, and his smile that could brighten any day..." He sighs wistfully. "... Both of which he got from his mother, along with his wanderlust." He looks back to Balion. "Perhaps he is still busy finding himself, but it would put me at ease to at least know he is still alright."

 

[LAmPailk]

“I suppose we might as well, since Master Carwyn and Master Balion still haven’t returned yet.” Fauntleroy casts a glance at the door as if to check before she thumbs through her notebook. “Yes, I saw you were capable of Minor Illusion before. I think a good place to start is Prestidigitation. Simple, harmless and deceptively effective.”

She shakes her head at Gimble’s words. “Magic is not solely a tool to fight with. While magic can do harm, it can also help in daily life. Take Prestidigitation, for example.” She leans close to Gimble’s dish and blows, as if extinguishing a candle. “<Cool,>” she commands in Sylvan. At once the dish goes cold. Then she snaps her fingers. “<Heat.>”

“Prestidigitation is a spell that allows me to cool, heat or flavor a dish. It allows me to clean my clothes, snuff my candles, but also allows flashy things, such as—“ She snaps the fingers on her other hand, and a shower of sparks appear from her fingers, “—this, or—“ Opening her other hand, she displays a small, perfectly shiny coin in it for a brief few moments before she closes her hand again, “—this. It’s often the first spell a wizard learns, and with good reason. It is perhaps the most versatile spell I know of.”

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Blood of the Vine Tavern:

"Mhm..." Edmon nods along idly to Gimble's words of wisdom, though it appears to go in one ear and out the other. When Fauntleroy starts her impromptu lesson on spellwork he turns his posture slightly to watch, though it is clear that he is still a bit distant from the conversation prior. "Those are all... the same spell? How? Seems complicated..." He asks that out loud with a slight frown, not quite seeming to comprehend what he was seeing. After the demonstration is over his gaze drifts back to the far wall of the main room, where a currently unlit fireplace stands precariously close to a few dusty storage cabinets. He starts to zone out again.

Mirabel meanwhile takes a round around the occupied tables, making sure no one needs anything while she happened to be out on the floor. When she sees Edmon staring absentmindedly into the distance she chuckles absentmindedly and shakes her head. "Oh goodness, it looks like you're boring the poor lad to death. I think he needs a nap after all that food and chit-chat." When she says that she perks up, as if she just remembered something. "Oh right... I never got you that blanket did I? It would have been rude of me to forget~~"

She laughs to herself, before heading over to the far wall and starting to dig through the cabinets. "Now where did I put it... aha!" With a bit of a heave she pulls a hefty woven blanket out of a tight spot, a small poof of dust escaping along with it. She flaps it open to shake off the rest of the dust, revealing a simple yet charming orange-red design with simple leaf patterns. Satisfied she folds it up neatly and plops it near Edmon, who blinks awake and looks at the blanket with a curious expression.

Ismark looks up from his papers over to the commotion. He peers closer, trying to pick out details on the blanket. "... Huh. Is that a new design you made up, Mirabel? It seems fitting for the season."

"Ah, this one? Well I had to adapt it but I think I was originally inspired by --" she starts, before seeming to catch herself. "By... my younger days, is all. Autumn was always my favorite time of year." She flashes a sweet smile, patting Edmon gently on the shoulder as she pushes the blanket closer. "But it won't do any good just collecting dust, so perhaps it's high time it keep someone warm for once." Edmon nods softly in response, putting a hand to the blanket and feeling how soft it was. It seemed to comfort him a bit in the chilly air of the tavern.

 

[SlyCooperKing]

"I'm afraid I haven't done any spell but minor illusion... So I am a bit confused as well. What is tha language ya speaking?" Gimble twists and constors his mouth a bit as if physically moving his head would get the gears in his head to spin faster.

 

[roSpEnTo]

Carwyn nods in response to Donovan's description of his son. "If we see him, we will direct him home. If he is a taller version of myself with longer hair and the same eyes then I am sure we will notice each other if we pass in the street." He smiles reassuringly before getting a little lost in thought. He wonders whether knowing about the presence of the Morninglord will help calm Edmon down or whether it will be an unfortunate reminder of a home that it may take a long time to get to. He waves his goodbyes to the priest and both him and Balion make their way back to the tavern, Carwyn keeping his eyes open for anything that seems out of place on the way back.

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Church of the Morninglord:

"May the Morninglord light your way forward," Donovan says in reply, visibly relieved at the promise to keep an eye out for his son. "You are always welcome to return here." With a final bow he closes the door shut firmly, leaving you to your own devices. The soft thud sends a couple birds flying off the shingled roof into the cloudy skies above, scattering themselves across the quiet village.

This late into the morning, there is a bit more activity about the village though most people seem to mind their own business. In the distance, a figure pushing a small cart starts to roll into town from the western road though they are still quite a ways away. Closer to the center crossroads of town, a broad-shouldered man can be seen on the roof of what seems to be the general store, preparing to start repairing a hole in the rickety roof. Across from that building is the tavern you had been staying at, next to which the delivery boy from before is seated atop one of his crates seemingly taking a breather from carrying them inside. He constantly checks over his shoulder as if keeping an eye out for someone; he seems to take notice of you but doesn't say anything as you walk past.

 

[LAmPailk]

Fauntleroy grits her teeth at Edmon’s spacing out and Mirabel’s careless comment. She doesn’t bore people— people just aren’t sufficiently interested in the stuff she’s trying to teach. Perhaps this material is too difficult for him at this age. What did I do back then? It’s hard to remember— Fauntleroy can hardly remember the days she couldn’t do magic.

Instead she snaps her fingers in an attempt to regain the child’s attention, clucking her tongue in disapproval. “Young master Edmon, do pay attention. There’s many an eager wizard-to-be that would pay to be part of this,” she says, trying to mask her annoyance. She looks at Gimble. “Master Waywocket here has the right idea. If you do not understand the material, asking questions is the best way to become familiar with it.”

“The language I use is Sylvan. Commonly known as the language of the Fey, it makes use of the same script as Elven.” She taps on the notebook, pointing out the graceful script. “Personally I find it useful to use a language that I don’t regularly speak for my spells, but any language will do. It depends on the caster’s preference.”

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Blood of the Vine Tavern:

Edmon snaps back to reality as his name is called out, still clutching the blanket as he turns back to Fauntleroy. He pouts slightly when she mentions asking questions, burying his face slightly in his arms. "I... did ask. How are they all... the same spell? Do I just... think about what to do? Or what to say?" He tilts his head, glancing back in the direction of the professor's spellbook and notes. "Do you have to say something for it to work?" Mirabel meanwhile smiles at how he was enjoying the blanket before making her way back to the kitchen to keep cooking, either oblivious to Fauntleroy's contempt or not caring for it.

 

[LAmPailk]

Fauntleroy nods, glad to get some questions from Edmon. “They are all part of the same spell. It’s called Prestidigitation.” She points at the name of the spell at the top of the page, before dragging her finger down, pointing at some chicken scrawls.

“The ‘V’ and the ‘S’ here, do you see them? They indicate they need verbal and somatic components. Verbal means that they need words— somatic means that they need gestures. So you are correct in presuming that you need to say something for it to work. There’s a third type of components— material, designated in my spellbook with ‘M’. For some this means certain ingredients, though most wizards I know replace it with a focus, such as my wand.”

She sits back a little, contemplating another of his questions. “Oftentimes, my instructors would give my class a basic formula and setup for a spell to study, and we would learn to understand it by ourselves. Each wizard has an unique twist to their style of magic— hence the fact that copying from another’s spellbook isn’t as easy as the uneducated might think. It takes a lot of practice to get a spell right for the first time, and a first-time caster might have to swallow their disappointment more than once in the process of learning their first spell. Conversationally, that is also why novice wizards often learn Prestidigitation— because it has so many uses, it’s a good spell for novices to practice in idle moments.”

 

[Harmon]

Balion watches the worker he saw before, seeing if he was distressed from the encounter. He nods to himself, happy that the boy seems to be more or less fine he continues forward to the door and opens it, giving a slight bow of his head to Carwyn, and motioning for him to lead the way in. "These last few days have earned us the right to relax some, friend. There is a tension in you." His eyes linger on Carwyn's for a moment before the corners of his mouth flick up into a small friendly smile.

 

[roSpEnTo]

Carwyn stops before the door and grimaces at Balion's words, appreciating the smile but feeling the twist of the tension inside him. He nods at the final part but there is a tightness to his smile when he gives it back and he steps back down a step to be closer to the elf. "I would love to relax but I can't help but feel there is something wrong here. Something off. And I am worried about the boy." He rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs to himself. "I know you and I are fine with being out of Faerun, both of us were wandering the roads when we met so we don't really need to be there. But to pull someone from his family and at such a young age. I know that feeling and the idea of being stuck here doesn't sit well with me because of that." He thinks for a second, mulling over his words and what Balion had said. "I will try. I cannot offer more than that." He shrugs and moves back up to the door pushing it open and moving his way inside.

Looking over the bar he sees Edmon with the blanket, seemingly drifting off next to Gimble in an impromptu lesson from Fauntleroy but he smiles at the boy and moves over close to the trio of them. He gently ruffles the boy's hair and takes the blanket, covering Edmon in it so that he can relax some more and have a small nap if needed. "That blanket is yours by the way Edmon. I got it for you to have, something of your own." He looks over to Fauntleroy and gives a small smile of apology for interrupting again. He moves beside her and talks quietly, trying not to be overheard. "I know you are busy but could we please have a word outside, it's important. Away from both prying eyes and delicate ears." He puts his hand reassuringly on Edmon's shoulder as he looks to Fauntleroy.