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

[stonegod]

When it was his turn to keep the watch overnight, he sat down at the fire and pulled out Danovich's journal to read further into what had happened to the mad priest.

Jarrith reopens the journal. He verifies he did not miss anything of import in the first part---records of births, deaths, and such. Many of the latter, enough of the former to keep life going. He decides to focus on the second half, the part that gave him his headache before.

The priest's handwriting is cramped and disorganized here, and at the beginning Jarrith can see the dried remains of tears. "My son! My son! The thrice cursed land took my son! Doru, why? Why do those that Overwatch do nothing!"

The poor text immediately sets Jarrith's head to be pained, but he pushes through it this time. The next few pages are filled with Danovich's raging debate with himself---sometimes weeping, sometimes raging. His distrust is clear. "Panni Wadowa asked for a cure for her wretched boy again today, claiming fever. I know it is a lie! She lives too near the forest to truly be safe. She must be bargaining with those foul Visanti or some other darker power. I will not fall into her trap! I will not die as my son!" Jarrith can almost sympathize. The people were very distrustful here, and there was something going on he was not being told of.

At some point, Danovich became obsessed with the Castle. "That Devil Strahd was said to know the power of life and that beyond. His obsession poisoned him, but it will save my son! It must be true!" Plans are laid, incomprehensible things. The priest was thorough, if mad. The entry after his return is stark. "The Castle welcomed me and opened its bosom to my need."

Apparently, Danovich found some magical text that he felt would help his son. "A forbidden thing, for we do not trust that which costs us so much." The text gets even harder to read, and stains of substances best not thought about fill the page. It is filled with signs showing the depths of the priest's madness and paranoia. "Wadowa's boy's corpse, apparently dead of some fever, is the right size according to the fragment. His left arm will do well to fix my boy." It becomes clear to Jarrith that arcane fragment found with Danovich was responsible for the creation of the monstrosity---and that it was the center of the plague.

After reading it all, Jarrith's head swims. To see the path of madness laid out before him so starkly. One thing was clear... anyone could fall. Easily. That the path to such madness was one that many were already on. He'd have to keep his eyes open. Even Marot has shown such weakness, and perhaps Khensu's shifter taint would claim him in the end. He'd have to be vigilant. Such was his duty.

[sblock=OOC for DEFCON]Jarrith has just received 1 point of Taint (depravity) [Will save failed]. This makes him slightly paranoid or crazed, causing him to have a 50/50 chance of either panicking or charging your foe if surprised. You can see the Taint rules in Heroes of Horror for more.

There are ways to heal such taint, but unfortunately, Jarrith skipped those classes (no Kn: Religion). Essentially, if someone does not figure out what is going on with Jarrith and heal him, it will be permanent. Let me know how you would like to proceed on that front.[/sblock]

 

[DEFCON 1]

Jarrith closes the journal and spends a number of minutes staring off into space. His thoughts are awash in all kinds of conspiracy theories, dark ideas, and pained fears. Reading the day-by-day account of someone descending into madness told him just how fragile a mind could be. He had seen brethren struck mindless by the Quori, read stories of insane ramblings of men caught in the blast that destroyed Cyre, and heard a tale of a young elf in Q'Barra that had began hearing voices just by looking at a statue of a daelkyr. This world was fragile... and it was for this reason that the Church took him in and employed him to find and root these stories out. It was too easy to fall... too easy to lose yourself if you weren't focused... too easy... too easy...

"What did you learn, my Brother?"

The voice immediately snaps Jarrith out of it, and his head spins quickly around to where it came from. Standing above him is his Lumin Brother Sir Khensu... and for a second the Stalker's eyes flash in fear. A wave of panic flows right through him but then disipates just as quickly when his logical mind catches up with his emotional one. It was just his brother and his friend. Nothing to worry about. But Jarrith does realize that he was just caught unawares. That could be deadly. For himself and for others. He'll need to remember that. His vigilance is paramount in this endeavor.

He shakes his head quickly to clear it, and then gives his sideways smirk to the shifter. "Nothing much more than what we already knew, my friend. Although Danovich did make a trip into the Castle himself... and it was there that he found the parchment that detailed how to go about creating the monstrous replica of his son. And apparently he ran into no trouble going through it to find it."

He looks back off into space again. "I hope we have the same luck when we go in to find Strahd's tome."

 

[Stormwind]

Ashlyn spends the most of her time dealing with the dead. Although she does not speak much during the ceremonies, she is always there, constantly working.
During the day she makes a point of speaking to each of the members of the group that she see's, Jarrith, Janis, Tessa, Perriwimple, and Daellin, asking everyone to gather at the inn during the evening to discuss plans for the upcoming days.

In the evening she speaks with the caravan's magewrights and artisans, discussing their mutual business, while waiting for everyone to gather at the inn. Once they have all arrived, she speaks "I though it would be good for us to determine our next move. Perhaps we could come to a concensus."

 

[drothgery]

They are not the size of wolves Daellin has seen before; they are at least as massive as a man. They are not so large as a horse, which the little Daellin knows of dire wolves is a requirement. As for being werewolves---short of magical means of detecting true form, the archer does not think he could know that for sure. Having focused on his undead tracking than his nature studies, best Daellin can figure they are large wolfish creatures.

Daellin waits until they're out of sight, then tracks them for a while.

 

[pathfinderq1]

The rest of the day for Tessa, Ashlyn, and Perriwimple pass in toil as the rest of the bodies are taken to the graveyard for tending. Stone slabs, mostly simple square markers in the earth, dot the manicured grass that grows at the foot of the great crag where the cemetery lies. The three work with other villagers to build a make-shift crematorium, and most of the day is spent turning the bodies to ash. Ashlyn and Tessa are both given the opportunity to speak at the services. Ireena, dresses in a somber brown covered in ash from her efforts, also provides a stirring speech to the townfolk, extolling their capability to come together and reminding them of their stubbornness and willingness to survive. Ismark, still in his finery, looks on impassively. He does not lend a hand in the burial works.

Tessa kept her words simple- she knew many funeral rites, but these were simple folk, far removed from many of the concerns of the outside world. She tried to sprinkle each ceremony with at least a few words about the victim, from what the survivors had said during the preparations. It may even have been that some drew comfort from her words, and her stoic adherence to the role of priestess in this final rite. But her own visage was drawn and coldly solemn- the cheerful smile which usually lit her face stilled by the weight of this ghastly resolution. It was only when the fires of cremation were finally lit that some emotion crept back into her features- a look of exultation, perhaps at the thought that these souls at least had passed beyond the trials and woes of the mortal realm. Or maybe it was simply the sight of the rising, consuming flames, and the knowledge that the foes that awaited them might soon meet such a fiery end as well- but no, that couldn't be; a scholarly and cheerful young priestess would never harbor such thoughts...

 

[Kafkonia]

Perriwimple throws himself fully into the job before him, losing himself in the physical labor, not thinking about what exactly he's doing or why he's doing it -- those thoughts are sad and enough people are sad already. Instead he takes quiet pride in how quickly he can assemble the needed goods or dig a hole. Even thoughts of his uncle's anger fade behind the sheen of sweat that coats his skin. When Ashlyn invites him back to the inn he nods eagerly, but almost forgets as the day wears on.

At the inn he listens to the pretty lady talk. "We need to stop the bad people," he says. "Show them not to be bad. It hurts people."

 

[stonegod]

Daellin waits until they're out of sight, then tracks them for a while.

The track is not too difficult to follow---the wolves were not hiding their trail. It meanders westward around the base of the crag through the forest, in the opposite direction of the supposed Claw agents. They seem to lead for a while, then attempt to circle back around south in a wide loop, and it quickly becomes apparent to Daellin that they were heading back towards Daellin's old position. It is possible they were trying to track him as well.

The elf takes a patient watch, hidden near a fallen log, to see if the large wolves return. But after a half hour, he hears and sees no sign of them. If they were trying to track him, they went off in other pursuits.

 

[stonegod]

Janis shrugs and tries again.

Janis continue her ritual, calling forth the wild. It has a strange tinge here. Not one she would associate with the wild---more dark and foreboding, as if Mabar or Dolurrh touched this land.

OOC: Janis won't be done until the next day, given it take a full 24 hours, so she will not be a the Inn discussion.

 

[stonegod]

Ashlyn spends the most of her time dealing with the dead. Although she does not speak much during the ceremonies, she is always there, constantly working.
During the day she makes a point of speaking to each of the members of the group that she see's, Jarrith, Janis, Tessa, Perriwimple, and Daellin, asking everyone to gather at the inn during the evening to discuss plans for the upcoming days.[/COLOR]

Jarrith, upon a suggestion of Sir Khensu, re-arrives in town at dusk to report the state of their vigil. He is caught by Ashlyn just in time. Janis remains on her secretive journey, and Daellin must have been delayed tracking---he has not returned of yet. [This leaves Daellin options on tracking; if he decides to return, he'll arrive "just in time"]

The archivist, having spent the day with research, smiles a thin smile at the group. As Ashlyn begins to discuss their plans, the man states, "Fah. The Tome is what is important. That mad priest of yours almost states for a fact that it is in that decaying ruin you are all concerned about. If you want to chase your mysterious fey to the north or try to catch those supposed witches before four nights time, that's your business, but remember---the Twelve is here for the Tome."

OOC: Just a bit of recapping.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Having returned to the Inn under the urging of his Lumin Brother, he hangs around the Blood On The Vine as various people enter and leave. His eyes dart back and forth a bit more frequently than would be normal, as he is constantly looking for anything out of the ordinary from any of them. He thinks to himself that he has not been as vigilant as he's needed to be in the past, and that has to change.

When Lady Ashlyn comes in and comments that they should plot their next move, Jarrith's snide side comes out once more. The interesting part of it of course being that it's directed at the Lightbringer rather his usual target of Janis.

"I though it would be good for us to determine our next move. Perhaps we could come to a concensus."

"Funny..." Jarrith says sarcastically... "I could have sworn I tried to ask the same thing yesterday and nobody had anything to say." He looks around and sees that none of the other four members of their little band are around, so again, group discussion appears useless. "Janis and you both mentioned you wanted to go after the Claw agents... but then never bothered to give out any ideas on how exactly you thought we might accomplish it. Tessa said she'd help with whatever we'd decide to do but had no opinion of her own. Perriwimple..." he rolls his eyes when he thinks about what the big but slow kid might have offered up had he said anything of note "...was Perriwimple. And of course Daellin said absolutely nothing. No opinions on the matter whatsoever. Didn't even answer me when I asked point blank what he and Janis discovered when they went chasing after that... thing... here in the Inn. So... apparently he doesn't care where we go, just so long as he gets to go out first in whatever direction that is." He snorts in derision.

The Stalker starts pacing around the Inn, getting himself more and more agitated with each step. While his Lumin Brother might see this rise in nerves a bit uncharacteristic... to Ashlyn and the archivist, it's just another one of Jarrith's mood swings. When the archivist begins talking, Jarrith turns suddenly on his heel to listen.

"Fah. The Tome is what is important. That mad priest of yours almost states for a fact that it is in that decaying ruin you are all concerned about. If you want to chase your mysterious fey to the north or try to catch those supposed witches before four nights time, that's your business, but remember---the Twelve is here for the Tome."

Jarrith nods in appreciation now that someone had made a declarative statement on what he wants. "I agree. I say we hang the whole 'chasing after the Emerald Claw' thing. The best way to stop them is just do what they're trying to do, but do it quicker. So unless Janis and Daellin show up with a brilliant watercolor hand-painted map with a giant arrow on it pointed to where the Emerald Claw are currently standing right at this moment and we can reach it in about fifteen minutes walk... then screw 'em. I don't want to waste my time."

He pulls out his rapier and begins lightly practicing his swordfighting styles a bit as he continues his ranting. "We have four days to check out the Hill, the forest, and the castle. My second sword and the wand I requested will be ready for me tomorrow. At that time, once that second piece of steel is in my hand... I have made the decision that I will head straight for Lysaga Hill to find Sir Urik's... or is it the Burgomaster's? I can't remember whose it actually is at this point... little Symbol of the Raven. That's where I'm going. All the rest of you who want to tag along, please feel free. If not, then I'll just go with Khensu and Marot and WE'LL do it ourselves."

His breathing heavy and his eyes wide in anger and annoyance, Jarrith slides his rapier back in its scabbard. "THERE. A decision has been made. Anyone doesn't like it... go do whatever the black hells you feel like doing, but I'm not changing my mind. Tomorrow after I get my sword back, I'm heading for the Hill."

He then turns and storms out of the Inn and heads back up the mountain pass.