[Ravenloft] Grand Conjunction I: Night of the Walking Dead

The light of the sky shining over the dead
Shall gutter and fail, turning all to red.
:: The Hexad of Hyskosa, Canto IV

The strange, oddly solid-looking mist dissipates. You look around, and as your eyes grow accustomed to the darkness of the shadows cast by the full moon, you find yourself in fenlands unchanged from where you were just moments before. You see the shining expanse of a sluggishly-flowing river before you, just before wisps of cloud drift over the moon, blotting out the feeble light that shone through. You are now in total darkness.

Sounds of swamp creatures meet your ears. You hear the croakings of bullfrogs, the low grunts of alligators, the short barks of marshland dogs, the cries of less familiar creatures. And above all, you are alone. You pull your cloak around yourself tighter and trudge through the fens towards what you hope is civilization.

Splash. Are you alone?

Splash. The undeniable sound of footsteps.

Splash. Closer and closer.

A number of other vaguely-seen figures emerge from behind trees. They all gather. Fellow travellers.

So you are not alone.

Soulsong

The elf looks around from under his 'robin hood' hat and take a swig from his flask. It's a dark night tonight. Where can I find an Inn? I seem to have lost my way. He offers the people around him a swig from the flask.

The Elf is very lightly armed for wandering alone.

With the departure of the moon's watchful gaze, I slip my gear and grant light to one of my torches after a few sharp, practiced strikes with my flint and steel. Replacing my gear, I hold aloft the torch and peer in the direction of the noises I heard. "Step forward, if you hear my words with living ears. The Morninglord grants us the fortune of sharing this evening together. Come share this light with me and learn of his kindness," I say in fluent Mordentish, keeping my voice even despite the inner confusion of my location and the sinking feeling that something has changed. I repeat the same words in Vaasi and even Souragnien, not knowing of any other places that have bogs or fens that I have been to or read about.

"Well, we had best find some dry ground," I say to my horse as I take a few tentative steps forward and gently lead him along by the reins. As I wait for any sign of the ones making noise, I blow sharply on the silent whistle and look off to my left and right wondering if my dog, Brocius, is nearby.

I wait for a few moments for anyone to come out of the darkness, grateful for the torchlight, but wondering how long I'll be able to hold it up before my arm starts to get tired.

Anyone that approaches sees a young woman, very late in her teens or maybe early twenties taller than an elf and with just a little more 'meat' on her bones though still slender. A chain shirt is seen reflecting in the torchlight beneath her cloak which is pulled around her somewhat awkwardly by the other hand holding the horse's reins. A dagger or utility knife is spotted at her waist and in a sheath on the horse's saddle is a shortspear. An amulet of a golden disc with a rosy hue about it hangs from her neck, resting low over her bosom. Her black hair is nearly invisible in the darkness, but pools around her neck and down her back with an almost liquid softness. Her eyes sparkle in the torchlight, though their color is lost to the darkness though they are wide and searching the dark of the night. They are well guarded in that they do not give away any of her inner thoughts or fears, or her growing dislike of being out at night and alone except for her four-legged companions. Her movements are neither slow nor exceptionally fast, but are deliberate and steady as if each motion had been thought out and decided before its execution.

A twin hiss resounds as two shortswords leave their scabbards. Cautiously the small man approaches the circle of light, and with an artfull twirl stashes one of his shortswords away.
He approaches the elf maiden as he snatches the flask from the elf's hand and takes a swig. He stoppers it again and casually throws it back, wiping his mouth with a leather-gloved hand.
"I hate this place. I hate it. Wherever we are. alf the time the people don't know what I'm saying. Anybody know where I am this time? Bloody mist. Bloody country." The man says in Oerthian. At the looks on the faces he repeats himself in elven.

(OOC: Damn, I only have the old 2e books and there language wasn't an issue. What's the common tongue here?)

*Daman's eyes dart about, and he raises his head to catch sight of all other strange people speaking in their strange tongues. No one has reached for a weapon yet, and Daman decides to be cautious. Taking his pennywhistle from his belt, he blows only a handful of notes, enough to know he is not playing randomly.*

"I greet you, strangers. You may call me Darius if you arrive without violence," he says evenly in the Common trade-tongue of the highlands. Stepping out into the lights, he is a tall, well-built young man with an air of melancholy about him. His long black hair falls into his face slightly, and his tartan is of ebon and gray. His face is chisled, his chin cleft, and his eyes dark under heavy brows. He bears a short sword at his waist, but it has little signs of use upon it.

Gorgamesh - Caliban

Hrggg.. can I join the circle of light, I'm totaly alone here, my name is Gorgamesh.
Gorgamesh speaks in Vassi to the one who holds the torch, you see a very tall and muscleour man. With heavy winter robes covers his body, a small wooden buckler in his left hand, Gorgamesh lowers the heavy flail that in his right hand and puts it away.
you see six fingers in his right hand although there is only five in his left.
His face is distorted, his eyes are not in a straight line, and his ears are lobe less.
He is bald with a numerous scars on his head.
Agh..don't be scare He says with a shy but sturdy voice. (vassi and Balok)
I'm not a monster..Agh he lowers his eyes and waits for you to accept him, then he focus his eyes on the flask. Can i have some?

Soulsong holds the flask out to those who will accept it. I am called Soulsong. I am pleased to make all of your aquaintences. Is Derry on Ellishar to many more miles away?

He kicks off some of the muck gathering on his boots and says, I truly don't remember a bog in the area but I visit my parents only every 25 years or so. He smiles and almost radiates warmth.

Gorgamesh

Dah… I think you are in Nova Vassa , I entered the swamp in Nova vassa, although this place in not familiar to me, I think I’m lost but I suspect we are still in Nova Vassa. Maybe if we can team up together we can find a way out of this place
Gorgamesh eyes everyone of you …
It’s look like you need someone like me, Hehehe … this swamp is dangerous
a big smile spreads on his face, and you see that some teeth are missing.

"And who are you to so rudely accept what was graciously offered?" I say to the swordsman in a smattering of the different languages I've learned hoping its enough to be understood. I catch the tossed flask and hand it back to the elf politely. Speaking to both the elf and the swordsman, I introduce myself. "I am Benara Moonglow, priestess of the Morninglord. It seems we are all lost here. Strangers are often found in the Mists, but I've never known of them being gathered by them. This is strange indeed."

As the whistling is heard, I turn in its direction, finding myself liking the tune. I smile at the person's approach and cautious introduction. "I'm glad to make your acquaintence, Darius. I'm Benara Moonglow. Be at ease. There is no violence here," I say with full assurance, that being the last thing I want out in a bog in an unknown location. "It seems we are all lost, or rather now we have all been found together. I have not seen any of you before and I think that is something we can all agree on. Perhaps if we continue with the introductions and perhaps where we're each from, we may be able to determine a common cause to our appearance here." This last part is said with an equal mix of hope and doubt. Things were rarely so simple or straightforward, especially where the Mists and strangers were involved.

"Please come forward and join us, Gorgamesh," I offer, at the caliban's approach, speaking in fluent Vaasi to help put him at ease. As he comes into the light and I get a clearer look at him, my face remains expressionless, having seen other caliban before, but my eyes hold within their orbs the sympathy and understanding these beings are too often denied. "Consider yourself an equal among lost souls and let me be the first to welcome you as a friend. I am Benara." I bow politely and sincerely to him and then hold out my right hand in friendship. Having noted the six fingers on that hand, I show no hesitation or lack of sincerity, and hope that he can overcome any self-consciousness he may have about his hand and take my offer.

As Soulsong introduces himself, I smile and nod, inwardly feeling embarrassed at not knowing how to formally greet an elf. All those years at the university in Il Aluk, all those elven classmates, and not once did I talk to any of them about their culture or ways! So much for an education! I shake my head to his question, not knowing the place he named and feeling even worse now in front of him. At his light-hearted remark about visiting his parents, I find myself feeling better and smile back at him. He's friendlier than most of the elves I knew in Il Aluk, at least! And I'm sure we'll have more to talk about than the next assignment or what some instructor is like!

As Gorgamesh continues, I nod my head, agreeing with him and finding the idea of someone of his size and likely strength to protect me quite comforting. However, I cannot completely agree with him. "I was never in Nova Vaasa to begin with Gorgamesh. Before meeting all of you, I had been in Mordent, searching about some ruins on a bog for lost texts. I've lived in neighboring Barovia for some years, but have never crossed over to Nova Vaasa. I'm not sure that is where we are, but perhaps you are right."

Well met all! Soulsong says as he takes his now drained flask from the last of the newcomers. I have not hear of these villages you speak. I must have stepped into a Fae Ring by accident. Moon Father knows where I am now.

He gathers his cloak and robes a bit to keep them from the muck and looks around for higher ground where he may be able to see beyond the fog.

He chuckles to himself. I like the idea of us all traveling together. Indeed we "Foundlings" will make an interesting name for ourselves. He says more to nimself than any one in the group. It is always true that at the darkest of times people are brought together for a greater purpose. Mayhaps this is one of those times Priestess.