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

[James Heard]

"There I was at home in Cyre watching my homeland crumble around me. I was succumbing to a surfeit of sunshine and easy living, so I decided to come to visit here," Janis says easily, still staying far away from the man.

"And you? Are you a Knight of the Ravven or some such then? I had thought the order extinguished after my last visit to Rekkenmark."

"Your familiar is most fetching," she says grudgingly.

 

[stonegod]

The man chuckles, a deep rumble. "Ah, aren't all homes nothing but that which we try to get away from, only to have it shattered in our hearts! Ah, but the question is, the test is, do we try to put it back together?" He laughs once more, though the last part is cut off as he grimaces again.

He looks about seemingly dazed a moment, then blinks a few times before continuing, stroking the sable raven at his shoulder. "Ah, Hurrn, you mean. No mean familiar is he, but a servant of those that overwatch us. Ravens consume the dead, you see, and those that exist behind death's pale rightly fear them for it. As for..."

The man is distracted by the mist a moment, staring at nothing intently for a moment. Just as the pause would become awkward, he starts up again. "Where was I? Ah, yes." He makes a mock little bow. "Indeed, my bony white lady, I am the last of the living Knights of the Raven, righters of wrong, and defenders of that which needs defending." The man laughs again, once more with the steel edge to it. "Sir Urik, the mad, or so I have heard the villagers call me."

The bearded man smiles, his gaze drifting off a moment again, before he shakes his head hard once more. He places one gloved hand---his left, the other still on his sword---on his temple again. "Ah, but you have not provided me the pleasure of your names and purpose. It would be a shame if I did not have that pleasure."

 

[James Heard]

"I am called by some by the name Stormhand," Janis says with a little bow. " They consume the dead, you say? As an arcane metaphor that's quite fascinating. As for what? You were going to say something? The Order of Ravens must be quite old, ancient even...I've only seen references to them in passing. Where are the rest of them then, if the rest are unliving?"

Even as the words seem to spill from her lips, Janis' face remains cool and immobile, as if she were merely discussing the daily races in Metrol.

I wish Selase were here, perhaps she'd know more about obscure cults in Karn than I.

"By what act or coincidence brings you here to these crossroads?"

 

[GwydapLlew]

"Sir Urik, you say?" Khensu's voice rumbles as he appears through the mist, giving their new acquaintance with a direct look as he approaches. Will he flinch as the rest will? Is he a warrior for good as we are? ((OOC - Detect evil, yaddayadda))

Assuming that Urik does not flicker with impurities, the shifter approaches and offers him a warrior's salute. "I am Sir Khensu Feral, of the Order of Illumination. Well met, sir! It seems we are not the only travellers in this accursed mist.

 

[stonegod]

" They consume the dead, you say? As an arcane metaphor that's quite fascinating. As for what? You were going to say something? The Order of Ravens must be quite old, ancient even...I've only seen references to them in passing. Where are the rest of them then, if the rest are unliving?"

Urik nods at Janis, as if she had asked yes-or-no question. "They rest the final rest. My master, my mentor, fallen to the battle most of a score of years ago. There was but one of him, and so on... for some time I'm told." He looks at the sky a moment, making a gesture across his chest using the 'v' sign seen last night in the Vine.

((OOC - Detect evil, yaddayadda))

The man seems too distracted or too unobservant to notice Khensu's action. The shifter's intense gaze turns up nothing. Either he does not suffer from evil, or shields it well.

"By what act or coincidence brings you here to these crossroads?"

"I am Sir Khensu Feral, of the Order of Illumination. Well met, sir! It seems we are not the only travelers in this accursed mist."

The almost simultaneous statements seem to rattle the man's concentration, and he clutches his head once again. Raising his left hand, he speaks with strain, though his sardonic humor still clings to it, "Forgive my manners, but I must confess it is becoming more difficult to refrain from crying out from the dizzying pain those foul cowards have inflicted on me. I"---he cringes again---"I would beg of you fine travelers a boon if possible, a restorative of the mind if you so possess it. I..." His mind seems to wander for a moment, and then with hard concentration continues, "I... have a scroll of such that I am quite unable to use."

His left hand digs out scroll from a case, which he holds out. "If you please."

 

[GwydapLlew]

((Sense Motive on the poor fellow to make sure he's on the up-and-up?))

Sir Khensu nods to Jarrith once. Both the cleric and Marot can recognize the look on his broad face as indicating that this one had passed the first test of the Inquisitor. The Flame teaches that its light may be found in the most unlikely of places. "My brother may be able to assist you, Sir Urik. Do you possess other injuries - injuries of the body - that we may tend to as well?

Trust is earned by small steps. If this man were truly a knight of a holy order, then this land is far more dangerous than it appears.

 

[Stormwind]

Ashlyn watches the ground where the incorporeal forms dissappeared for a few moments. When she hears Urik's request she immediately turns and steps toward him, taking the proffered scroll from his hand, "I will do what I may."

She then examines the man briefly before looking down at the scroll in her hand.

[Heal check to ascertain Urik's condition (is he otherwise wounded or hurt too?)]
[Examine the scroll ... can she decipher it?]
[If the scroll is lesser restoration (and has CL less than or equal to 3) then cast it immediately. If she can't decipher it then pass it to one of the others.]

 

[James Heard]

Janis frowns, wondering exactly what the absent-minded knight might be concentrating on. Turning her back on everyone from her vantage point near the building, she hurries through casting the basic cornerstone spell of Cyran magical training, the spell of magical detection.

OOC: Casts Detect Magic, then begins concentrating as anything interesting takes her.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Maraat will carefully dismount and walk over to the Urik.

"I am called Marot by most. I am a magician, and if your scroll is beyond Ashlyn's pale, then I might be able to bend its magic to my will to serve you," he says in a quiet voice.

OOC: Will use UMD to use the scroll if Ashlyn can't.

 

[stonegod]

[Sense Motive take 10: 19]
Sir Khensu's natural distrust is not rewarded this time, as Urik does not appear to be deceiving him.

[Heal Check take 10: 22]
Ashlyn takes the scroll from Urik's hand, then does a cursory examination, asking him a few questions and such. The man is very disoriented, having difficulty maintaining lucidity. Considering what she knows of the murks that just fled, it is likely he has suffered some mental damage from their blows. Otherwise, there are no physical marks on him.

Ashlyn examines the scroll, but her training is more martial, not arcane, and she cannot decipher it. [No Spellcraft] Marot takes the scroll, and with some luck, identifies it as a scroll of lesser restoration, as promised. [Spellcraft 19+3=22 vs DC 22: Success] Marot uses his fiendish insight in to magic to cast the spell upon knight, who appears less distracted, though still somewhat harmed. The raven Hurrn looks over the proceedings with a stern eye. [UMD Take 10=24 vs DC 23: Success, 4 Wisdom damage healed]

[Janis detects magic]
While the others are focused on the knight, Janis scans for any sign of magic which may have be the root of Urik's distraction. Scanning the area, besides the expected glow of magic from her companions, she determines Urik's armaments are all magical. However, nothing else possess the tell-tale glow.

After the spell is cast, Urik stands a bit straighter. He rubs his temple once more, then makes a half-bow to those gathered. "My thanks. It is a rare day indeed in this land when strangers help strangers. Not the land of milk and honey are we! Now, to answer you questions, I am here because this is where I was needed. I fight the curse upon this land, and that curse is ever present in this place, tainted by the deaths of those that meant ill." He pats the tombstone on which he leans.

He looks the group over with a keen eye again, more focused this time. "However addled a may still be, however, you have yet to answer my question. Barovia's ills are mine for it is my home. But you are strangers. What brings you to our mist soaked paradise?"