D&D 5E Curse of Strahd - Death House

Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
The small priest, advancing carefully, reaches for his club and takes it in his hand. He can see shapes of buildings ahead of him, hard edges of darkness in a world that is otherwise grey and soft.

He hears a sound, an oof followed by an apology. He stops, his neck craning about trying to localize the noise. A quick prayer imbues the piece of wood in his hand with supernatural energies. Mr. Aldershot raises his shield, a small wooden circle banded by a rim of steel.

He taps the edge of his shield with the small cudgel he carries, in two sets of three.

tap...tap...tap...

tap...tap...tap...
 

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GlassEye

Adventurer
Kasimir


Kasimir ran on with all the grace of a bull, plowing through any underbrush or saplings that crowded the trail. And the man he met on the trail, this Wergil of too many names, stayed on his heel like a hunting wolf. Probably for the best if the halfling fell behind. He kept running, even after he heard the voices, not stopping until he could see who they were. If they were bandits he intended to be on them before they could react.

[sblock=Kasimir’s Stats]
CG Variant Human Barbarian 1
Init +1; Senses passive Perception 13
AC 13/14 (Unarmored Defense/Dual Wield); hp 14 (1d12+2)
Saves Strength +5, Constitution +4
Speed 30 ft

Str 16 (+3), Dex 13 (+1), Con 15 (+2), Int 8 (-1), Wis 12 (+1), Cha 10

Actions
Longsword +5 1d8+3 slashing
(bonus) Dual Wield - Handaxe +5 1d6 slashing
(bonus) Rage 2/2
Javelin +5 1d6+3 piercing; range (30/120)

Feats Dual Wielder
Skills Athletics +5, Intimidate +2, Perception +3, Stealth +3, Survival +3
Languages Common, Abyssal, Orc
Special Wanderer

Gear longsword, handaxe (x2), explorer’s pack, javelin (x4), staff, hunting trap (bear trap), trophy (wolf skin cloak), traveler’s clothes, belt pouch, wooden flute, 8 gp

Wild I rush in, where angels fear to tread. (Trait)
Rebel Your manners, your titles; they mean nothing when the dark comes for you. (Trait)
Abnegation Labourdine honor may be lost, but no else will fall to its curse while I still draw breath. (Ideal)
Outcast I let no one close. (Bond)
Secret I crave and fear the wild power of the Labourdine curse. (Flaw)
[/sblock]
 

industrygothica

Adventurer
Kasimir follows the sound of the voices to find three others, obviously just as lost and confused as he, if not more so. Mr. Aldershot watches the silhouetted buildings disappear into the mist as the fog darkens and turns even more ominous.
 

Wrex

First Post
"Calm yourself, Girri. Do not let panic seize you." Rufus said, steadying her as she bumped into him. But she was right.

He looked back at the village, looking for the eyes Girri had mentioned when he heard the crashing through the brush. Finally. Something he could hit. If this was the trap, let it be sprung.

"Only two of you? And you mean to ambush us?". He pulled his halberd toward the newcomers, stepping ahead of Girri and Farshid, pulling into a defensive stance. Neither of the men looked liked a mage. "Or do you have another friend controlling this confounding fog?".
paladin2.jpg
 

[section]Girri picked up on the rhythmic tap tap tapping of what sounded like a war drum, and froze. There was danger to their rear and danger to the fore. Given a choice between the leering eyes in the fog and the pygmy headhunters she imagined lurking in the woods, Girri momentarily felt indecision settle in her frame like a frost-stiffened blanket left too long on the clothesline. For what seemed several long seconds, she couldn't jar her feet to move, nor would her arms bend. Belatedly, she remembered the dagger tucked inside the fold of cloth at her waist, and flicked it into her grasp. Girri drew comfort from the tang of steel in her hand. She prayed she wouldn't have to use it, but the knife and its purpose sharpened her focus. She peered forward into the fog, trying to discern what approached. The dagger stayed at the ready.[/section]


[sblock=Stats]Variant Human Bard 1
HP: 8/8
AC: 13
Initiative: +2
Saves: Dexterity, Charisma
Languages: Common, Halfling (race), Vistari (background)
Passive Perception: +4

STR: 8 DEX: 15 CON: 10 INT: 12 WIS: 14 CHA: 15

Spell Save DC: 12
Spell attack modifier: +4
Cantrips (2): light, prestidigitation
1st level (2/2): cure wounds, dissonant whispers, faerie fire, sleep

Bardic Inspiration: (2/2), long rest. Bonus action, choose one creature other than yourself within 60' who can hear you. d6 to an ability check, attack roll, or save w/i 10 min.

Bladed Scarf +4, 1d4+2, finesse, 10 ft reach
Dagger +4, 1d4+2, thrown, finesse, light, 20'

Acrobatics 4
Arcana 3
Insight 4
Investigation 3
Perception 4
Performance 4
Persuasion 4
Sleight of Hand 4
Stealth 4[/sblock]
 

GlassEye

Adventurer
Kasimir


The mud-splattered warrior held two axes, one in each hand, and didn't look too worried about the halberd wielding man. He pointed an axe at him but otherwise ignored him as he looked the woman in the eye.

"A woman screamed. These two giving you trouble?"

[sblock=Kasimir’s Stats]
CG Variant Human Barbarian 1
Init +1; Senses passive Perception 13
AC 13/14 (Unarmored Defense/Dual Wield); hp 14 (1d12+2)
Saves Strength +5, Constitution +4
Speed 30 ft

Str 16 (+3), Dex 13 (+1), Con 15 (+2), Int 8 (-1), Wis 12 (+1), Cha 10

Actions
Longsword +5 1d8+3 slashing
(bonus) Dual Wield - Handaxe +5 1d6 slashing
(bonus) Rage 2/2
Javelin +5 1d6+3 piercing; range (30/120)

Feats Dual Wielder
Skills Athletics +5, Intimidate +2, Perception +3, Stealth +3, Survival +3
Languages Common, Abyssal, Orc
Special Wanderer

Gear longsword, handaxe (x2), explorer’s pack, javelin (x4), staff, hunting trap (bear trap), trophy (wolf skin cloak), traveler’s clothes, belt pouch, wooden flute, 8 gp

Wild I rush in, where angels fear to tread. (Trait)
Rebel Your manners, your titles; they mean nothing when the dark comes for you. (Trait)
Abnegation Labourdine honor may be lost, but no else will fall to its curse while I still draw breath. (Ideal)
Outcast I let no one close. (Bond)
Secret I crave and fear the wild power of the Labourdine curse. (Flaw)
[/sblock]
 

[section]Girri swallowed at the sudden appearance of the large man with an axe in each hand. Mud marred the side of his face. His question and his blood-splattered breehes refreshed recollection; Girri was lost for a beat as a wave of images crested and battered her senses. She saw the unclasped belt buckle, relived her fear. Momentary prisoner to memory, Girri's answer was reflexive. "Not this time, no." The geas tightened in her chest. "Who're you?" she blurted. [/section]


[sblock=Stats]Variant Human Bard 1
HP: 8/8
AC: 13
Initiative: +2
Saves: Dexterity, Charisma
Languages: Common, Halfling (race), Vistari (background)
Passive Perception: +4

STR: 8 DEX: 15 CON: 10 INT: 12 WIS: 14 CHA: 15

Spell Save DC: 12
Spell attack modifier: +4
Cantrips (2): light, prestidigitation
1st level (2/2): cure wounds, dissonant whispers, faerie fire, sleep

Bardic Inspiration: (2/2), long rest. Bonus action, choose one creature other than yourself within 60' who can hear you. d6 to an ability check, attack roll, or save w/i 10 min.

Bladed Scarf +4, 1d4+2, finesse, 10 ft reach
Dagger +4, 1d4+2, thrown, finesse, light, 20'

Acrobatics 4
Arcana 3
Insight 4
Investigation 3
Perception 4
Performance 4
Persuasion 4
Sleight of Hand 4
Stealth 4[/sblock]
 


Yavathol

Explorer
Drawing his rapier at the same time that everyone else was unsheathing their weapons, Wergil felt his heart pumping faster and his muscles start to tense.
"We'll ask the questions here!"

He pointed his rapier at the man in heavy armor, "You! I saw you last night with that damned diabolist,", his eyes sway to Farshid as he spits on the ground. "Why have you brought us here, and where are we? I warn ye, any sign of magic from any of you and I'll spit you without hesitation, just try me!"

[sblock=status]Wergil hp 15/15
Str +0(+2 Saves) Dex +3, Con +3(+5 Saves), Int -1, Wis +0, Cha +0
Athletics +2, History +1, Perception +2, Persuasion +2, Survival +2
AC 18
Inspiration yes
Rages 2/2
HD: 1/1[/sblock]
 

Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
"We are all on edge," says a voice from the mist, "and if we are not careful we shall hurt one another." It is a calm and measured tone, and the halfling steps forward, a much smaller figure than any of the others. He walks with a stick, and holds a shield.

"We have been brought here, we know not why. None of us is at home, we know not why. We do know that if we are to secure our return, rescue is not likely to come from hitting one other. Perhaps we can not turn on one another before we discover where we are, and wherefore."

He looks around. "I am Mr. Aldershot, a servant of Nature." He smiles benignly.
 

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