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

[stonegod]

Bildrath gets even more annoyed at the mention of Perriwimple's death. He points a finger accusingly at the group. "I told him that dealing with outsiders be his death! Only fools seek to meddle, and it always ends the same. You keep on, and it will be the same!" He crosses his arms. "Feh. He be dead, like his folks. Boy was only good for stock keeping anyway." He looks sourly at the group once more "Best be seeing you only if you be buying."

The man slams the door on his way out, seeming to have little interest in talking to the prisoner. The inn echoes in silence.

[Let me know your plans]

 

[Stormwind]

Ashlyn has been quiet on the trip back to town, and once in the inn she takes a seat and listens tiredly to the discussions. Once Bildrath leaves, she slowly rises from her seat and tiredly walks outside to where the mercenaries are holding the prisoner. Nodding at the mercenaries she crouches down next to the prisoner and begins to speak in a casual tone, "The Green Crone ... is it she who wields darkness in one hand, and a silver symbol in the other?"

Ashlyn pauses a long moment, saying nothing, just waiting for a response before she continues, still speaking in a relaxed casual tone "I too would see something done about the fanes, but I know not how to abate their power. May I inquire as to how it can be done?"

Again she pauses, giving plenty of time for a response before continuing, "You mentioned the Dark Lady, who is she and what of her folly?"

[Ashlyn is attempting a diplomatic/sympathetic interrorgation, taking her time and trying to improve the prisoners attitude to her]
[Diplomacy: 1d20+10 (take 10/take 20 if able)]

 

[stonegod]

The man looks up at the Lady paladin. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes of it. He tries again, gasping. Before Ashlyn or the guards can assist him, he shudders. He eyes go unnaturally wide, then a voice---a voice obviously not his---comes forth. It is a gravelly voice, one that grates at the back of your ears.

"So the weed was found in the garden before it could blossom? No matter. He mind holds the fruit I need. Worry not, False One. When we call the Verdant Lord, you will worry about nothing again! The Lord and I will have our revenge on Luganda and her land, and not even He will be able to stop us!" The man cackles madly, and even while holding him down, the group cannot stop the loud *crack* signifying the self-snapping of his neck. He falls limp.

The Lady will kill me! Indeed.

 

[Stormwind]

As the prisoner is possessed and killed, Ashlyn's face goes cold and hard. She gently closes the dead man's eyes bushing her hand over them almost softly. Her expression however is glacial and barely contained cold fury burns in her eyes, washing away all traces of the spiritual tiredness that has burdened her since arriving in this place.

Effortlessly she picks up the dead body and lays it down besides those of Daellin and Perriwimple. Then she walks back into the inn. The difference is plain. When she walked out she was tired, burdened, now she reeks of detemination and fury and as she speaks, her voice cold and hard, "Our enemy has declared herself so with the deaths of our friends and that of her servant. She is an evil that needs uprooting from this land. The Green Crone. She may not be all that we face here, but face her we must."

Ashlyn then sits down at a table and begins to clean her armor and weapons.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Jarrith takes another long chug of his wine, finishing off the glass. He then puts it down and signals to the barkeep for another one. Although he hasn't made the conscious decision to get completely sloshed this evening... he's going to end up doing it. He spins around in his chair to look at the three women in the bar.

"So tomorrow morning we talk to Ochem about the Lamannia thing... then head into the woods to find the people that the guy we caught came from. And hope we can take them out before this Verdant Lord walks again. All right. Sounds like a plan."

He eagerly accepts the next goblet from the barkeep and drinks the wine in it deeply. He finally places it back down on the table, sighs, and then says almost to himself. "I wish Sir Khensu was here."

 

[James Heard]

Janis says nothing, only goes upstairs to sleep out the night.

Am I now shamed by shopkeepers?

 

[stonegod]

20 Far, Zaranthyr 998 YK
[HPs restored as w/ a nights rest; new spells can be chosen, etc.]

The dawn as overcast, as normal, and frost clung to every pane in the old building. The group's sleep was restless, echoes of the memories thrust into their head playing over again. But one thing was certain---if they did not find the Green Crone, they knew where she would be tomorrow night.

At the top of Lysaga Hill. Waiting.

No carpets of bats awaited the group this morning, only the deep frost. From her window, the Pale Lady could see the white-touched bear curling up against the well. It was given a wide berth by any of the caravan, and townspeople gave the 'v'-sign any time they had to go near to get water. Ashlyn found the morning as she normally did---in prayer, reading herself for one more day. Tessa was also praying, praying to the Host to let her understand what was going on---to stop the madness growing around them. And Jarrith---all the Stalker was concerned with was the fur on his tongue and the hammers of some hellish tiny warforged that danced wickedly in his brain.

Downstairs, they passed the room where Mateusz and his scribes were working. The slavishly clean archivist looked annoyed, most likely peeved at the Tome's continued absence. But a surprise waited. Sir Urik, seated at a table, enjoying a large breakfast that most likely put the timid innkeeper out of sorts. And on his shoulder---another raven, the spitting image of Hurrn. As some of the party comes down, he looks up, a smile on his face and a tankard of something in his hand.

"Ah, friends! It is good to be seeing you alive again today! For any day you are alive is another day to fight! Please, sit! Join Hurrn and I as we welcome another day to eat and taste and live!"

 

[James Heard]

"Will you feed my fellow Cyran your food, Sir? His lips are cold now, and he provides too quiet company," Janis replies, offended by the notion of celebration.

 

[stonegod]

"Will you feed my fellow Cyran your food, Sir? His lips are cold now, and he provides too quiet company," Janis replies, offended by the notion of celebration.

Urik places his glass down, a look of confusion on his face. "What is this? 'Cyran' is your people? Did the land takes its price in blood once again?" He looks around at the gathered. "The archer, I take it? Or the wolf-touched? The strange one? I would hear the tale, but know you have my sorrow." He makes the sign of the 'v'. "But the statement stills stands: A day you are alive, is a day you can fight. To feel and revenge the fallen. If I were to do nothing but weep for the dead, I would flood the valley." He takes a large drink.

 

[James Heard]

" My land is dead and every breath lost is gone forever. I do not weep, the future weeps for me."

Janis waves dismissively.

" Let the others tell you tales. Time fails me. I must tend the beast out by the well, and pay my respects before my countryman," Janis says, turning away.

" Innkeeper? If I might have what refuse fit to feed a hungry bear..."

Janis leaves once she's seen to the feeding, and goes outside to look on Daellin once again...and to check for the book that she recalled him possessing. That taken care of, she takes a time to brush the bear and hopefully show the townspeople that he's somewhat more tame than the rabid zombies and tainted priests that have walked freely in the square previously.