SolidSnake
First Post
October 10th, 747- “Who makes frequent inquiries about the road does not go astray.”
As Monsette walked into the Inn’s rather shabby lounge, he noticed that some color had returned to Vanyel’s face. Perhaps the cloak of blankets encasing Vanyel’s frail body had somehow managed to warm him up. The fire had burnt out a while ago, but Monsette supposed that the warmth it had generated did help the healing process. He would have stayed with Vanyel, but the last few days had exhausted him; he could barely keep himself up as it was. Easing himself into a chair, Monsette began pulling tobacco out of his pouch and stuffing his pipe when he heard a large crash coming from the rooms down the hall. The investigator continued to fill his pipe with icy calm as the innkeeper ran down the hall and began yelling obscenities at the top of his lungs. Gathering some tinder, Monsette lit the pile with flint and steel he had borrowed from Sam just before their hellish trip into the Warehouse District a few days ago. He began to inhale deeply while he lit the tobacco with the burning tinder. The smoke was intoxicating. He almost didn’t hear the shouting going on right behind him. Shinlaiden had broken a bed and the innkeeper seemed rather agitated about that. Something about tossing while having a nightmare…it really didn’t matter. The gold coin that Monsette produced was quickly snatched away by the greedy Innkeeper’s. The investigator watched as the glint of gold disappeared in between the rolls of fat covering the man’s deft hands. Monsette didn’t bother to count the sum of money returned to him, while he ordered breakfast amidst the chaos. Everything was going to hell anyway, why not? Looks like Vanyel is up.
Vanyel struggled with blankets embalming his body, until Sam appeared and helped him out of the cocoon.
“She’s gone isn’t she,” Vanyel gasped as the Sam freed him from the last blanket.
“Yeah, I took care of her,” Sam intoned somberly.
“By the Council, what have we done? We have destroyed her only hope of salvation. She was so confused…I am a monster.”
The fork carrying food to Monsette’s mouth clattered to the floor, drawing everyone’s attention. The walls Monsette had erected these past few days to stave off the madness had slowly been crumbling, slowly deteriorating. Spider-web cracks erupted on an hourly basis…whatever Vanyel had said simply shattered them in a single blow.
“What did you say,” Monsette hissed as he slowly rose from his chair. Stalking over to Vanyel, his voice began to grow as he shouted. “We almost died out there because of that selfish ghost! That THING was killing its own child and haunting its husband! It didn’t care about anything but itself and you are defending it?!! Defending a monster that was causing harm to the innocent! Are you insane?!”
The last word rung out in the silence of the room. Monsette wiped the saliva from his mouth with the back of hand and returned to his breakfast with a growl. The investigator’s words had more effect than he had anticipated. Sam and Shinlaiden were staring at him with shock plainly etched in their faces and tears were welling up in Vanyel’s eyes. With a sigh, Monsette got up once again from his food and walked over to the distressed Vanyel. Calling upon the power of Viminau, Monsette attempted to repair some of the damage the specter had caused Vanyel. As the energy poured from Monsette’s hands, into Vanyel, it dissipated over his body! Shinlaiden and Sam’s eyes only got wider.
“I told you Monsette. We are alone out here. I don’t even feel Salvx anymore…it’s as if he has abandoned me,” Sam said with morbidly.
“Shut up Sam,” Monsette snapped.
Invoking Viminau’s power once again, Monsette attempted to repair his own vessel of flesh. Nothing happened. Even Sam’s divine power dissipated over Vanyel’s body.
“We are cursed,” Vanyel said prophetically.
“Thank you for that lifting speech Vanyel. You two watch him, while I go talk to Raul.”
Monsette stalked out of the Inn, leaving plumes of smoke in the air around him. The day passed quickly and still there was no word from him. The party waited impatiently for the return of Monsette: Vanyel drew Leyla, Shinlaiden slept, and Sam drank. Only well after the sun had set on the horizon did he finally return with Raul in tow.
“Here’s the deal. One of the guys on the list without his name crossed off lives in this place called Barovia. This country is a few days away by horse. Raul has agreed to guide us there and help us find this…Gunter Edel. Apparently he lives in the capitol. Everyone rest up tonight, because it is going this is going to be a long trip.”
_________________
October 11th, 747
Atop horses provided by a grateful Dimitri did the party proceed on their journey. Raul packed up the wagon and only took his son Nikki with him. When asked if he was afraid someone would steal his belongings, he only became grimmer and answered that they would suffer a fate worse than death…no one asked about that again. The baby was difficult to satiate, as the party possessed no milk, but divine power from both Monsette and Vanyel seemed to stave off death. The party didn’t quite understand why it was that their spells worked some of the time, but then again, no one spoke much anyway.
________________
October 12th, 747
The blue skies became more and more overcast as the group progressed towards the Barovian/Invidian border. The lush deciduous forests gave way to harsher evergreens as the temperature began to visibly drop. The party made light conversation with one another to keep morale up. The two times, the party was frightened was when Shinlaiden expressed worry about “seeing something funny” and when Vanyel woke everyone up because he had a nightmare. Needless to say that both incidents did not help the party’s confidence.
________________
October 13th, 747
As the river wound up towards the domain of Barovia, it forked allowing one branch to go north while the other went south. Nestled between the forks resided a fairly large town called Zidendorf. Raul explained that this town was on the edge of Barovia because Lord Strahd, ruler of Barovia, had recently annexed the land. Needless to say that the land and its people were in turmoil, thus a large battalion had been stationed in Zidendorf to ensure the “peace.” Gundaraks were known for their short temper…this kept many people in jail.
Simply by entering the town, the party already noticed the dramatic difference between Invidians and Barovians. The men in this town seemed bigger, heavier, and meaner altogether. They wore their black hair in braids and donned stout woolen vests. The women seemed to cover every inch of their bodies with drab clothing and no one seemed to be without a male counterpart. The approach of seven heavily armed guards did nothing to lighten the atmosphere. All of the men wore identical chain shirts, covered with an orange tunic that bore crest of a raven. The men’s looks were adamantine. As no one but Raul seemed to understand their thick accents, none of the party members bothered to speak. Although it was tense, the moment was quickly gone as the regiment dispersed with Raul’s last words.
“What did they want,” Monsette asked.
“They just wanted to know what we planned to do in the town,” Raul replied.
“I don’t need the language to tell me those guys thought we were trouble,” Sam said sternly.
Monsette’s mind worked at a thousand paces a minute, while he discussed the party’s next move. The conclusion was that Vanyel and Raul would go look for a midwife, while Monsette, Sam, and Shilaiden looked for information. Shinlaiden didn’t like the idea of leaving Vanyel, but he finally agreed after some coercion from the frail linguist. As Vanyel and Raul disappeared into the crowd, Monsette led his group towards the one place everyone could help but talk: the local tavern. It wasn’t hard to find. Put a bunch of angry men and alcohol together in a cold desolate region and you get noise. All Monsette had to do was follow the sound.
Normally alcohol breaks down social and economical barriers…in this case it did not. There was a visible schism in this tavern. On one side, the men tasked with preserving the peace sat and on the other lied a lesser-armed majority without the benefit of identification. Both groups eyeing one another and muttering in hushed tones as Monsette entered. When the investigator walked in with Shinlaiden and Sam flanking him, all conversation stopped as every eye turned towards him. Monsette couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage. In a halting form of the language, Monsette spoke to the waiting audience.
“I am looking for the capitol of this country. I believe it is called Vallaki.”
The silence was shattered as the tavern erupted in laughter. Both sides laughed and pointed at the now blushing investigator. As the laughter began to die down a man red from laughter spoke between gasps of air.
“Maybe you should go back to Invidian and ask your mother!”
This only produced more laughter from everyone but Shinlaiden, Sam, and Monsette.
“Thank you but no good sir,” Monsette replied calmly. “I am looking for a path to Vallaki. Would you please help me?”
“If I were you Invidian, I would follow the Old Svitch Road to Vallaki. I wouldn’t stray from the path…you wouldn’t want to get attacked by ghouls and goblins on your first night here.”
The man’s somber tones were crushed with another round of laughter from all parties. Shinlaiden’s jaw clenched and unclenched in anger. He didn’t understand the language, but he didn’t need to be a linguist to know that everyone was laughing at them! The burly man stepped forward, his massive frame interposing itself between Monsette and the group of laughing townsmen. Watching Shinlaiden from the other side of Monsette, Sam followed suit. The tension that had been dispelled by the laughter returned with renewed force. The man Shinlaiden was staring at stood up…eight men following suit. Both men simply starred at one another, neither backing down. The men in uniforms looked on with growing amusement.
“I think we have had enough here Shin; don’t you think,” Monsette asked in soothing tones.
Monsette backed his belligerent companions out of the Inn…slowly. Laughter shortly resumed once the group had left. After reprimanding Shinlaiden for almost getting everyone killed, the group linked up with Vanyel and Raul. Vanyel said that they had been unsuccessful in obtaining a midwife, because of the level of racism against Raul’s people. Something about how no one wanted to get involved with “the dark magic of the Vistani.” However, the good news Vanyel did bring was the fact that he had managed to secure a female goat at the cost of some paper and his harp; the most prized possession Vanyel ever had. Monsette added sacrifice to the mix, but donating the remainder of his money and selling his (or rather Sam’s) flint and steel to purchase furs for everyone. Once they were well equipped, everyone agreed that it was safer outside the town than within. Slinging his bedroll over his shoulder, Monsette led the party away from Zidendorf.
As Monsette walked into the Inn’s rather shabby lounge, he noticed that some color had returned to Vanyel’s face. Perhaps the cloak of blankets encasing Vanyel’s frail body had somehow managed to warm him up. The fire had burnt out a while ago, but Monsette supposed that the warmth it had generated did help the healing process. He would have stayed with Vanyel, but the last few days had exhausted him; he could barely keep himself up as it was. Easing himself into a chair, Monsette began pulling tobacco out of his pouch and stuffing his pipe when he heard a large crash coming from the rooms down the hall. The investigator continued to fill his pipe with icy calm as the innkeeper ran down the hall and began yelling obscenities at the top of his lungs. Gathering some tinder, Monsette lit the pile with flint and steel he had borrowed from Sam just before their hellish trip into the Warehouse District a few days ago. He began to inhale deeply while he lit the tobacco with the burning tinder. The smoke was intoxicating. He almost didn’t hear the shouting going on right behind him. Shinlaiden had broken a bed and the innkeeper seemed rather agitated about that. Something about tossing while having a nightmare…it really didn’t matter. The gold coin that Monsette produced was quickly snatched away by the greedy Innkeeper’s. The investigator watched as the glint of gold disappeared in between the rolls of fat covering the man’s deft hands. Monsette didn’t bother to count the sum of money returned to him, while he ordered breakfast amidst the chaos. Everything was going to hell anyway, why not? Looks like Vanyel is up.
Vanyel struggled with blankets embalming his body, until Sam appeared and helped him out of the cocoon.
“She’s gone isn’t she,” Vanyel gasped as the Sam freed him from the last blanket.
“Yeah, I took care of her,” Sam intoned somberly.
“By the Council, what have we done? We have destroyed her only hope of salvation. She was so confused…I am a monster.”
The fork carrying food to Monsette’s mouth clattered to the floor, drawing everyone’s attention. The walls Monsette had erected these past few days to stave off the madness had slowly been crumbling, slowly deteriorating. Spider-web cracks erupted on an hourly basis…whatever Vanyel had said simply shattered them in a single blow.
“What did you say,” Monsette hissed as he slowly rose from his chair. Stalking over to Vanyel, his voice began to grow as he shouted. “We almost died out there because of that selfish ghost! That THING was killing its own child and haunting its husband! It didn’t care about anything but itself and you are defending it?!! Defending a monster that was causing harm to the innocent! Are you insane?!”
The last word rung out in the silence of the room. Monsette wiped the saliva from his mouth with the back of hand and returned to his breakfast with a growl. The investigator’s words had more effect than he had anticipated. Sam and Shinlaiden were staring at him with shock plainly etched in their faces and tears were welling up in Vanyel’s eyes. With a sigh, Monsette got up once again from his food and walked over to the distressed Vanyel. Calling upon the power of Viminau, Monsette attempted to repair some of the damage the specter had caused Vanyel. As the energy poured from Monsette’s hands, into Vanyel, it dissipated over his body! Shinlaiden and Sam’s eyes only got wider.
“I told you Monsette. We are alone out here. I don’t even feel Salvx anymore…it’s as if he has abandoned me,” Sam said with morbidly.
“Shut up Sam,” Monsette snapped.
Invoking Viminau’s power once again, Monsette attempted to repair his own vessel of flesh. Nothing happened. Even Sam’s divine power dissipated over Vanyel’s body.
“We are cursed,” Vanyel said prophetically.
“Thank you for that lifting speech Vanyel. You two watch him, while I go talk to Raul.”
Monsette stalked out of the Inn, leaving plumes of smoke in the air around him. The day passed quickly and still there was no word from him. The party waited impatiently for the return of Monsette: Vanyel drew Leyla, Shinlaiden slept, and Sam drank. Only well after the sun had set on the horizon did he finally return with Raul in tow.
“Here’s the deal. One of the guys on the list without his name crossed off lives in this place called Barovia. This country is a few days away by horse. Raul has agreed to guide us there and help us find this…Gunter Edel. Apparently he lives in the capitol. Everyone rest up tonight, because it is going this is going to be a long trip.”
_________________
October 11th, 747
Atop horses provided by a grateful Dimitri did the party proceed on their journey. Raul packed up the wagon and only took his son Nikki with him. When asked if he was afraid someone would steal his belongings, he only became grimmer and answered that they would suffer a fate worse than death…no one asked about that again. The baby was difficult to satiate, as the party possessed no milk, but divine power from both Monsette and Vanyel seemed to stave off death. The party didn’t quite understand why it was that their spells worked some of the time, but then again, no one spoke much anyway.
________________
October 12th, 747
The blue skies became more and more overcast as the group progressed towards the Barovian/Invidian border. The lush deciduous forests gave way to harsher evergreens as the temperature began to visibly drop. The party made light conversation with one another to keep morale up. The two times, the party was frightened was when Shinlaiden expressed worry about “seeing something funny” and when Vanyel woke everyone up because he had a nightmare. Needless to say that both incidents did not help the party’s confidence.
________________
October 13th, 747
As the river wound up towards the domain of Barovia, it forked allowing one branch to go north while the other went south. Nestled between the forks resided a fairly large town called Zidendorf. Raul explained that this town was on the edge of Barovia because Lord Strahd, ruler of Barovia, had recently annexed the land. Needless to say that the land and its people were in turmoil, thus a large battalion had been stationed in Zidendorf to ensure the “peace.” Gundaraks were known for their short temper…this kept many people in jail.
Simply by entering the town, the party already noticed the dramatic difference between Invidians and Barovians. The men in this town seemed bigger, heavier, and meaner altogether. They wore their black hair in braids and donned stout woolen vests. The women seemed to cover every inch of their bodies with drab clothing and no one seemed to be without a male counterpart. The approach of seven heavily armed guards did nothing to lighten the atmosphere. All of the men wore identical chain shirts, covered with an orange tunic that bore crest of a raven. The men’s looks were adamantine. As no one but Raul seemed to understand their thick accents, none of the party members bothered to speak. Although it was tense, the moment was quickly gone as the regiment dispersed with Raul’s last words.
“What did they want,” Monsette asked.
“They just wanted to know what we planned to do in the town,” Raul replied.
“I don’t need the language to tell me those guys thought we were trouble,” Sam said sternly.
Monsette’s mind worked at a thousand paces a minute, while he discussed the party’s next move. The conclusion was that Vanyel and Raul would go look for a midwife, while Monsette, Sam, and Shilaiden looked for information. Shinlaiden didn’t like the idea of leaving Vanyel, but he finally agreed after some coercion from the frail linguist. As Vanyel and Raul disappeared into the crowd, Monsette led his group towards the one place everyone could help but talk: the local tavern. It wasn’t hard to find. Put a bunch of angry men and alcohol together in a cold desolate region and you get noise. All Monsette had to do was follow the sound.
Normally alcohol breaks down social and economical barriers…in this case it did not. There was a visible schism in this tavern. On one side, the men tasked with preserving the peace sat and on the other lied a lesser-armed majority without the benefit of identification. Both groups eyeing one another and muttering in hushed tones as Monsette entered. When the investigator walked in with Shinlaiden and Sam flanking him, all conversation stopped as every eye turned towards him. Monsette couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage. In a halting form of the language, Monsette spoke to the waiting audience.
“I am looking for the capitol of this country. I believe it is called Vallaki.”
The silence was shattered as the tavern erupted in laughter. Both sides laughed and pointed at the now blushing investigator. As the laughter began to die down a man red from laughter spoke between gasps of air.
“Maybe you should go back to Invidian and ask your mother!”
This only produced more laughter from everyone but Shinlaiden, Sam, and Monsette.
“Thank you but no good sir,” Monsette replied calmly. “I am looking for a path to Vallaki. Would you please help me?”
“If I were you Invidian, I would follow the Old Svitch Road to Vallaki. I wouldn’t stray from the path…you wouldn’t want to get attacked by ghouls and goblins on your first night here.”
The man’s somber tones were crushed with another round of laughter from all parties. Shinlaiden’s jaw clenched and unclenched in anger. He didn’t understand the language, but he didn’t need to be a linguist to know that everyone was laughing at them! The burly man stepped forward, his massive frame interposing itself between Monsette and the group of laughing townsmen. Watching Shinlaiden from the other side of Monsette, Sam followed suit. The tension that had been dispelled by the laughter returned with renewed force. The man Shinlaiden was staring at stood up…eight men following suit. Both men simply starred at one another, neither backing down. The men in uniforms looked on with growing amusement.
“I think we have had enough here Shin; don’t you think,” Monsette asked in soothing tones.
Monsette backed his belligerent companions out of the Inn…slowly. Laughter shortly resumed once the group had left. After reprimanding Shinlaiden for almost getting everyone killed, the group linked up with Vanyel and Raul. Vanyel said that they had been unsuccessful in obtaining a midwife, because of the level of racism against Raul’s people. Something about how no one wanted to get involved with “the dark magic of the Vistani.” However, the good news Vanyel did bring was the fact that he had managed to secure a female goat at the cost of some paper and his harp; the most prized possession Vanyel ever had. Monsette added sacrifice to the mix, but donating the remainder of his money and selling his (or rather Sam’s) flint and steel to purchase furs for everyone. Once they were well equipped, everyone agreed that it was safer outside the town than within. Slinging his bedroll over his shoulder, Monsette led the party away from Zidendorf.