stonegod's Expedition to Castle Ravenloft: Ch. II [IC]

[EvolutionKB]

Avron

Avron rings his hands in nervousness. "I know something of vampires..." he mumbles. "...Mateusz taught me well."

I'll try, if nobody else will. 1d20-1.

 

[stonegod]

[Diplomacy]

Avron's attempt at smoothing things over seemed to nudge Mateusz into noticing his shirking assistant. And though his tone was harsh, but Tessa and Avron new that this was Mateusz being nice.

Do you, Master Hekler? So, tell me then, what are the three key traits to visually spot a vampire?

Unnatural pallor with flush lips, a low red tinge to the eyes, and...

... the sign of their victims lying at their feet? He turns his attention to Ashlyn. Lady Dorandana, that I recognized our visitors is a feat of my eyes, not of training. But as your undead foes now threaten our entire cause, it is imperative we take certain precautions. First and foremost, a change in locale. We are not safe in this place. Like a schoolmaster, he turns a stern question to the smoldering Tessa in the back. And why is that, Mistress Varequin?

Caught off guard by the question, Tessa for a moment looses her anger. The Inn? Because... It is clear as the answer comes to her and the priestess and the scholar answer as one. Its a public place!

Exactly. They may enter as they please, and with well documented—and now witnessed—abilities to pass into the smallest places, the more secure the area the better. I suggest you trundle about and ask that new Burgomaster to put you up; your relation with her seems to be better than mine for whatever reason. He ignores or does not see Jarrith's eyes roll at this. As for the Caravan... I suspect I will need to commandeer some of the now empty houses or force some families to share. It will have to do.

He taps his fingers a moment, quickly thinking. As long as these waylay your actual duties in retrieving the Tome, it appears you will need my assistance. Very well then. To answer your question, Lady Dorandana, I know much about our nocturnal sanguinous drinkers. Sunlight, running water, or silver and magic. These are the only banes against their kind. And, as you have seen, even the latter will not do the trick utterly. You must hound them to their grave and their destroy the body or the head. They have ties to the land, all of their kind, and are all called to it. Beware those of weak mind, for they can be turned by the vampire; and be wary of vermin of wolves—they are every the undead's servants or other forms.

His lecture over, the archivist stands. I care not how you deal with them, but deal with this problem promptly and get me my Tome. Avoid entangling distractions unless they lead you to that goal. He prepares to leave.

[Boy, does that man talk! Not very friendly either. Ask anything else you expect Mateusz might answer; otherwise, let me know what our plans are for the rest of the eve. I'll assume that you'll folks want to take some time to rest/craft/shop/etc. before dealing with the now missing relics. Let me know if I'm wrong.]

 

[pathfinderq1]

"You may be able to offer assistance of a more tangible variety as well," Tessa said carefully. "The merchants said that you might have access to some diamonds, for future trading. While we would not intrude upon your plans, it might be beneficial if you could offer them up, if you have such materials. Especially with the Jorascan matron now numbered among the victims, both Avron and I might be able to put those stones to vital use..."

 

[Stormwind]

After considering Mateusz's words, Ashlyn continues, "As I mentioned earlier, there was more regarding the vampires and their weaknesses ... or in this case their lack. We have encountered two vampires that suffer not from daylight, either natural or magical. Earlier yesterday, after we had left the castle, we were attacked by one in broad daylight. This is why I asked of your knowledge of their weaknesses, for I do not know of how they might fully negate those weakness as they seem to have done ... at least in part."

"So my question, Mateusz, is this: Can you think of any way in which a vampire might protect itself from the light of day?"

Ashlyn pauses a moment before continuing, "You might also wish to take additional precautions during daylight hours with the caravan."

 

[EvolutionKB]

Avron

After things have settled down, Avron returns to bed, intent on getting a good night's rest to recover his expended magics. In the morning he sets himself up for the lengthy process of scribing the magic from the scrolls to his prayerbook.

Scribing spells as planned, unless circumstances change, i.e. we decide to go after the relics now.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Sir Khensu looks on saddeningly as the discussions continue and Jarrith finally pulls himself together. He says nothing, as his massive disappointment in himself keeps the big man subdued.

Jarrith finally gets his giggles under control, and stands back up, readjusting the blanket around himself so as to keep himself even just slightly "decent". As talk continues about vampires, he sits back in his chair and leans back to wait it out. He cares not about the whys and wherefores... he just cares about extinguishing them when he finds them. Thus, he also remains silent until the end.

Once the meeting adjourns, Khensu walks silently upstairs and into bed, saying nothing to anyone. Jarrith stands up and gives a big grin to Mateusz. "Good talk, boss." Then he turns and walks out, not caring one whiff of whatever the response might be. He then also returns to the room, only to find Khensu already in bed with the covers pulled up and around him. The Stalker thinks to say something for a second... but he quickly realizes that if the Inquistor had something he wanted to say or talk about, he would do so. The unspoken agreement to this has been this way for years. Jarrith sighs, then also climbs into bed.

The next morning (and for the next three days), Khensu sits in silent contemplation and prayer in the town square. His mind is weak. He knows this. He's already spent 24 hours at the castle's altar praying for help and forgivenss for this weakness, and now he begs the Flame to help him strengthen it once more. 24 hours was not enough... perhaps three days might accomplish it. He eats when he's hungry, he drinks when he's thirsty, he moves when he need to make water, and he returns to bed when he needs to sleep. But other than that, he sits lost in thought.

Jarrith however goes about his business over the next three days, going to the caravan artificers to see about furthering the enchantment on one of his two rapiers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have returned! This weapon of mind could use a bit more oomph in the vampire-slaying department. What do you have for me?"

 

[Stormwind]

After finishing her discussion with Mateusz regarding vampires and their weaknesses and methods by which they might be circumventing them, Ashlyn returns to the main room of the inn and proceeds to watch over her patients and guard against further intrusions.
Not for the first time she is thankful for the magic provided to her by the ring she wears, allowing her to survive on relatively little sleep.

Once daylight has dawned, she refreshes herself [Cast lesser restoration (x2 if necessary)], and then she will start with the shopping, selling all the extra equipment to the caravan (or to Bildrith if someone else is willing to do the bargaining).

Once she has obtained the necessary materials from the caravan for the binding ritual for the symbol of ravenkind, she will return to the inn and begin the ritual.

 

[s@squ@tch]

Marot the Weakened

The morning light sees a small measure of his strength returned, but still he is weak on his feet. He uses a portion of a broken chair in the Inn as a make-shift cane and hobbles outside into the fleeting sun, which partially buoys his spirits.

The last few days had seemed like forever, with more trouble behind every corner.

He comes to rest near the praying Khensu in the town square.

Looking off into the distance,"Don't be so hard on yourself brother -- this land has a way of occupying your mind....."

He thinks back to his own troubles with the Emerald Claw mere days earlier.

Shaking his head, he purses his lips as he looks up at the sun shining overhead, wondering what awaits him this day.

"Only together, will we overcome the adversity presented to us in this dark place."

In the back of his mind, he begins to wonder if they will see this thing through.

OOC: Looks like I've got some STR damage remaining, and 1 negative level from last night, correct? Also, just see one AP used since I have been gone, correct?

 

[renau1g]

Ravika the Missing

As the sun rises in the land, a bedraggled figure wanders cautiously into the tavern. The female shifter's hair is covered in bits of muck and other swamp debris. She seems quite out of place and even a bit scared of the trappings of civilization.

"Hello?" Ravika says in barely more than a whisper, as she looks around the room for those she's been trying to find after getting seperated during her scouting.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Speaking with the artificers of the caravan to have a magical undead bane property added to his main rapier takes him only about 10 minutes of negotiation, after which he continues with various other projects. Every so often he wanders over to Khensu just to make sure the big man is still in the same spot, still in prayer. He doesn't bother him, and indeed when Marot tries unsuccessfully to engage the shifter in conversation, the Stalker waves the warlock over.

"Not gonna get much out of Khensu right now, Brother... you know how he is." Jarrith looks at the warlock and can see the withering of his musculature, and his eyes narrow in focus. "It looks like you're still debilitated a bit. Let me take care of that." He closes his eyes in a quick silent prayer and then lets the power of the Flame infuse itself with Marot. (Jarrith will cast any and all necessary restoration or other spells to get Marot back to full health if possible during our three day break.)

He opens his eyes and nods in satisfaction with Marot's newly regained health. "You look better."

At some point during their three days, Jarrith finds himself sitting in the tavern having a glass of wine, his feet up on the table and him leaning back in his chair... when the door opens up and a bedraggled, muddy shifter walks in. "Hello?" she says, and immediately he drops the legs of the chair down onto all fours, before standing up and putting the glass on the table. "You! You're back! What in the name of Dolurrh happened to you?"