Party 5

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Chapter 1: Into the Mists

The lot of you are no strangers, having met through some strange turn of events and coming to rely on each other's talents time and time again. And you're not the only ones -- in the time you've spent in the small northern Sword Coast town of Daggerford, just a bit under a day's travel from the sprawling city of Waterdeep, you've made a bit of a name for yourselves protecting its people from the various perils of the wilderness. So it isn’t much of a surprise that when the Duchess Morwen is having guests over for dinner, you all are invited. You consider her quite the friend considering how much you have served her duchy over the course of your stay, and the benefits from such a friendship are quite nice indeed.

The night is brisk, the full moon ominously bright as you maneuver your way through the nearly vacant cobblestone streets. Even though the walled settlement isn’t the largest, it is normally much more lively - but the people's superstitions must be getting the better of them. Tugging on your collar you push the thoughts to the back of your mind, making haste. Best not make Ms. Morwen wait any longer than need be.

As you arrive and are lead into the dining hall, the scents of various dishes begin to overwhelm your senses. Eagerly you find an empty seat, watching others file in after you. The Duchess is seated at the head of the table, looking much more distressed than usual. But of course you all exchange pleasantries as she attempts to hide her unease.

You all eat and discuss recent happenings in the town, everything seeming to be alright until the Duchess clears her throat and begins to speak in a somber tone.

“I don’t mean to interrupt this fine night we've been having...” she begins hesitantly, “...but we do have some important business to discuss. The reason I invited you all here tonight was because I have some concerns about a group of wayward travelers that are camped outside of Daggerford’s walls. I first assumed they were harmless, but then I had heard rumors from the townsfolk -- of them practicing witchcraft and other savage rituals. Of threatening to curse any who crossed their path.”

Taking a moment to reach for a glass of wine before her, she would take a generous sip before setting the drink back down and continuing. “At this point I'm not sure who or what to believe, but I'm wary of exotic magicks -- and quite frankly, we can't afford to have any more unknown factors after the events of the previous few nights.” Her gaze flickers downward. "... You're probably aware of the rumors of werewolves."

She sighs, shaking her head. “But I digress. For now I simply ask for you to go down there tonight and investigate things for me, while I'm held up with other concerns. And in the case that they are as wicked as I've heard... tell them they have until dawn to move out of my territory, or I will see them out by force."

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Misty Forest Cove:

Iselka wakes for just a moment as Balion arrives, sniffing the air softly and blinking at the arriving elf. Groggily, she nods in acknowledgment at the offered bedroll and snuggles comfortably inside, and her resumed snores can be heard soon afterwards. Only faint flickering light and the sound of crackling wood keeps Balion company as the hours pass.

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Balion:

While you don't quite see anything in the darkness beyond the edge of the campfire light, you feel drawn into the atmosphere -- perhaps there's something in the air, or the creeping fog that seems to linger along the edges of the cove but never quite drifting inside. As you continue to keep watch you don't realize that you're slowly zoning out, getting lost in what seems to be the familiar haze of trance. But while you are still getting used to the experience of your adulthood dreams -- drawing on past years of your life, rather than years beyond that -- this feels... different. Like a hyperawareness of your current position, feeling every grain of dirt beneath you, every stray ember off the dwindling flame, every flicker of mist that dwindles into nothingness within the cool night air. So foreign, yet so faintly familiar... like a switch had been flicked, and a sense of attunement to nature that once lay dormant suddenly snapped to life. Were you connecting to nature, or was nature itself calling to you? It wasn't clear, but at the pinnacle, just for a moment, there is a sense of true connection.

As quickly as it had come, the intensity of the experience fades away -- though something lingers, leaving goosebumps on your skin, a soundless ringing in your ears. Seeing the glimmers of dawn, perhaps it was not as quick as it felt. Either way, you feel a bit changed, though you can't quite put your finger on it...

Gimble:

The cold damp atmosphere of the cavern is nothing to you, as you're out cold the moment your head hits the pillow (or rather, the measly square of cloth you had to call a pillow for the night). However fantastical your dreams are (perhaps you dream of home, or of your last escapade with the group, or even of the strange encounter you had this night and one of the many, many ways it could've gone terribly wrong) it somehow ends with you staring up at the night sky, completely clear and devoid of clouds. It almost seemed surreal in its detail, the way the stars far above glittered like diamonds. Without even thinking about it your hand reaches up, as if trying to snatch one of them straight out of the sky itself, and for a moment you swear that you're floating off the ground, peering closer than your gnome stature would allow. But before you can think to understand it, you notice a shifting presence out of the corner of your eye. At the edge of your vision, sifting wisps of darkness begin to creep up, and it's at this moment that time itself seems to slow down as your vision sharpens, your body whirls to react before you can even comprehend what's happening. The swirls of starry light give way to darkness... and then to light once more, as you come to consciousness right before you come to face the shadows in their entirety.

As you wake up you instinctively wiggle your joints, calibrating yourself to reality once more... did that translate to real life? Maybe it did, because unless the air always felt this cold and biting you feel just a bit sharper now, quicker on the reflexes...

Fauntleroy:

Even as you settle into "bed" for the night and attempt to sleep, there's never truly a moment where the cogs of your brain aren't grinding away at some thought, some calculation that needed conclusion. But there was something different this time, something in the air... no, it wasn't the lack of a full eight hours of consecutive rest, you never really got that anyway. It could've been a life-death experience, those drove people to vast mental shifts, but unless you were hallucinating that was not the case, at least tonight... so what was it? You wrack your brain with the intrusive thought, even as you winds down, until at the very brink of unconsciousness, it hits you. It was the stench of life, that precious glue that kept the sickly bodies of the world shambling about, even as death loomed just behind. And it feels like you could just reach out, just a little and... grab it--

In the morning hours you would start awake, mind abuzz with ideas and trains of thought that threatened to split into a million directions. You're still not quite sure how you managed to put two and two together, but that didn't matter -- you had to write it all down, simply needed to, before it fizzled away into nothingness. This was an epiphany, and it felt like euphoria.

Carwyn:

When sleep finally overtakes you it is gentle and warm, like slowly sinking into summer waters. There is a moment of still, a feeling of floating -- then there is light, and a basking warmth around him as the surrounding water sways him back and forth, slowly. But there is no discomfort, only awe as the light slowly converges into the shape of a woman, long hair floating like wisps as she looks down upon you, the soft features of her face slowly coming to life. Though no words are heard, there is a feeling of joy, of peace, of conection. Like contact had been made, at last -- or once again, as it felt ever so faintly familiar.

She drifts effortlessly towards you, the thought of moving even a finger not occurring to your sleeping mind. It seems like she wants to speak, to open her mouth, but words seem to fail her. Instead, you watch as she reaches up towards her chest, and a small wisp of light flows out of it, being cradled between her two hands. Pushing it forward, the wisp slowly moves towards you, disappearing into your own chest with a soft flash of warmth. She nods in acknowledgment as the pull of gravity gradually begins to make itself known once more, sinking you down slowly, while the light begins to fade. Before you drift out of consciousness, there is a faint sigh of relief and the echoing of words: "I may not be with you again, child, but know that I have not left you alone..."

When you come to, you can't exactly remember what you dreamed about. Only that now, there was a lingering warmth where there was none, and that you had an urge, towards the north....

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Dawn of the Second Day
Misty Forest Cove:

The morning eventually greets you all, the sun ever so slightly peeking out from behind the overcast clouds. Iselka is up and about early, taking some time to stretch and then loom near the edge of the cave to peer outside. "Not the best weather... but it's something," she mumbles, continuing to munch away at the jerky she didn't quite finish last night. She seems on edge, and is most certainly deep in thought, but otherwise attempting to steel her resolve for what laid ahead.

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[Kanaxe_Ru]

Chapter 2: Welcome to Barovia

It is about a day and a half on the tracks that the mists begin to creep once more around you, blending in with the dusk that evening typically brought with it. Without the protection of the cove it advances quickly on you, swallowing trees and bushes ahead of you and behind you and on all sides, and soon enough you have to compress as a group to keep visibility on each other.

About an hour into this fog Iselka stops and looks curiously at the ground. Where there were once a larger mess of scattered footprints, now there were only two sets, veering off to the right. The other tracks simply stop at a point. "I don't like the looks of this but... they're our only lead," she mutters, leading the group to follow in that direction. It is around this time that Carwyn's faint feeling towards the north spins around senseless for a moment before fading entirely, leaving him with a slight daze. Regardless, he has to push it off as the party attempts to travel on.

After a while (minutes? hours? the fog makes it difficult to grasp a sense of passing time) visibility clears up once more, giving way to the forest that you're only vaguely sure you've been traveling through this entire time. Is that shiver down your spine from the temperature drop you just noticed, or the relative quiet of the woods you just realized? You're not quite sure. The only sounds accompanying your trek is the squelching of mud beneath your feet (when did it last rain?) and the rustling of leaves above you, branches clawing at the darkening sky.

"Fuckin' hell!" A male voice rings out clearly in the void; the flapping of wings can be faintly heard in response. "We leave for ten minutes and suddenly they're all gone!"

Looking in that direction, two silhouettes of humanoid figures can be seen in the distance. While one leans against the tree, torch in hand and glancing down at what appears to be a pile of miscellaneous belongings, the other paces around angrily in a circle before stopping to yell upwards at the sky in frustration again. "Gahhhhhh. The fuck is our luck today?!"

The other one sighs, putting a hand to their head. While they seems to be cautious of their surroundings, unlike their traveling partner, the silence of the surrounding woods can only hide their annoyed voice so much. "Petre, you know this is a risk every time we go out. Be grateful that we're probably in the right country," he huffs, his head turning towards the northeast. "And near civilization, from the looks of it."

"Doesn't make up for the fact that we're separated... and stuck with the fuckin' kid," the other growls back, spitting at the ground near the pile. It's at this point that a portion of the pile begins to stir, as a seemingly kid-sized figure begins to wriggle and cry where they lay on the ground.

A long, drawn out sigh can be heard in response. "Dammit, you even woke him up. How else are you going to make this worse for us?"

 

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Blood of the Vine Tavern:

Sorvia eyes Fauntleroy curiously as she watches the wizard frantically write down notes, desperate to get the knowledge down. "Quite the enthusiastic one I see... I hope your search for the answers you seek is fruitful, or at the very least not rotten. Who knows where that will lead you... I sure don't." Stowing the last of her records into a weathered satchel by her side, she takes her teapot and mug and walks over to the bar and places them on the counter. "Regardless of how many more questions you might have I would recommend retiring for the night sooner rather than later. I'm sure someone will be around in the morning if you need it."

Looking over to Fauntleroy, she nods slightly as she picks up the oil lamp on her table with one hand and wraps her shawl around tighter with the other. "Otherwise, you and your group are welcome at any time as long as you continue to be paying customers. Academics are a rare breed in these parts and it is a breath of fresh air." She makes her way up the stairs, and her soft steps can be heard creaking all the way to the end of the hall before they fall silent.

The two downstairs eventually leave Arik to his slow plodding cleaning and each find a bed for themselves -- Balion opposite a sprawled out Gimble, Fauntleroy next to a sleeping Iselka curled up surrounding her meager pack of belongings, the salvaged spear leaning idly to the foot of the bed. Hearing nothing beyond the howls of the winds outside and the creaking of the thin wooden walls of the tavern in resistance, the relative silence of the night is enough to eventually bring about the lull of sleep.

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The morning comes without much fanfare, light dully seeping through the overcast sky. There's a slight chill to the air, and looking out the window a soft fog can be seen rollng along the hills and woods beyond the village buildings. Nevertheless the day has started, with birds in the air and the occasional early riser on ground level, walking briskly toward their destination. With the morning light the run-down appearance of many of the surrounding houses is more apparent, with many houses seeming to even be boarded up or abandoned.

Coming back down to the first floor of the tavern, the main room is slightly more lively than before. There's a handful of plain-looking villagers scattered about between the tables and the bar, several of whom have farming tools or other equipment laid next to them as if this was a quick stop before getting to work. At the corner table where Sorvia sat the night before is a slightly younger similarly dressed woman, occasionally glancing around the room as she works on a small knitting project. Arik meanwhile continues to man the bar, barely looking like he ever left the bar at all last night -- though the drunkard from before is nowhere to be seen. The main door to the tavern is slightly ajar, letting in a slight breeze, and every so often an annoyed female voice can be heard just outside the building.

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