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

[James Heard]

Janis rolls her eyes at the naive priests breaking host-bread with the lord.

"Hero? I am but humble a rat-catcher. Heroes? Fah. Heroes, always slaying windmills and chasing princesses like idiots."

Janis wag her long fingers in a sweeping motion, as if disposing of the notion that she would do either.

"I am no more a hero than a house tom. Heroes slay monsters for gold and glory. Cats kill rats because they're rats."

Janis shakes her head.

"You'll forgive me, but I lose my taste for feasts when there are rats to about to eat. It is a weakness of mine. I smell them," Janis sniffs the air in example, "And suddenly my mind becomes quite convinced that the rats are all around me. In the walls, hiding in their dark holes, under my nose..."

Janis shrugs her arms apologetically.

"I'm sure your meal is quite nice, but perhaps some other time?"

Janis walks up behind Ireena.

"You did quite nice, kitten" Janis purrs as a whisper into Ireena's ear.

Janis keeps an eye about her surroundings, waiting for the trap to fall upon the cheese and unwitting mice.

"What say the rest of you? Are you heroes either? And what of our host, perhaps you shall deign to tell us your tale?"

Janis makes no further moves to enter the room beyond moving to whisper in the ear of the witless village girl.

 

[stonegod]

"What say the rest of you? Are you heroes either? And what of our host, perhaps you shall deign to tell us your tale?"

Janis makes no further moves to enter the room beyond moving to whisper in the ear of the witless village girl.

" 'A gracious host says little of himself for there is no sauce which goes with arrogance.' It would be poor of me to divulge of myself when the guests have not their say. And while the Castle is beset with all sorts of unsettled spirits, there are no rats unless they have been recently imported. So sit, for you do me no kindness in my house to show me such ill will when I have done nothing to earn it."

"This is... quite a place... you have here, Lord ir'Zarovich. May I?""

Ireena looks momentarily at Janis before claiming the spot at the lord's left across from Jarrith. As Jarrith makes his request, the Lord inclines his head in permission. The roll is still slightly warm, and smells of careful preparation. "It is an ancient edifice, older than the towers of Sharn. And while I claim it as my own, it is not a tame place, nor safe. The pale lady is not amiss in suggesting that darkness lies under the surface here, for the Castle is restless in its slumber. Dear Ireena claims it is a sign of an ancient Curse, and there may be truth to that tale. It will take some time to return it to its proper glory."

"But enough of the Castle, we may talk of it more later. You are the ones responsible for stopping the zombie plague, and have been dealing with other matters. I would like to hear them all from you, as my dear Ireena has not been personal witness to them all."

 

[James Heard]

Janis snorts.

"I reserve my ill will for rats, and I'll take no pardon for stating frankly that this place is full of it no matter what witness and testimonials otherwise."

Janis shrugs and then sighs, before straightening and announcing in quite another tone that she usually uses - flowing easily into the cadences of aristocratic speech, though a bit self-aware from lack of use.

"But be ungracious as you see in me then, and tell us your tale. Perhaps your story shall break my storm and heighten my appetite, for as companions we have listened ever to each other's tales until boredom. Save us with your memories then, regale us with your story," Janis pleads, for all the world sounding like a simpering Cyran noble begging a story before dinner from their host. At the end she curtsies, graciously as if their host had already accepted.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Jarrith reaches forward and snags one of the rolls, then leans back in his chair while Janis and Sergei try and out-speak one another in flowery, ridiculous language. Well by the gods... if the two of them are going to get into a staring contest to see who's going to blink first and tell their story... I'm going to eat. He brings the roll to his mouth and takes a big bite, then slowly chews and watches to see if either of them are going to stop wasting each other's time in a fruitless effort to seem "more important" than the other.

 

[pathfinderq1]

Tessa was very quiet as the party made their entry and introductions- nearly all her energy was focused on trying to stay calm and smiling in the unpleasant environment, and she was grasping her consecrated shield with the fervor of a drowning woman clinging to a life preserver. She managed only a bow and a weakly stammered greeting to their host, unwilling to get into the verbal sparring between him and Janis. She sat down gracelessly, dumping her pack and lantern beside her chair, but she made no move towards the feast.

 

[Stormwind]

Ashlyn looks warily around the room and then moves forward to take a seat at the table before inclining her head slightly and speaking, "Lord Sergei, I would apologize for being somewhat distracted and uneasy, but after what we experienced upon entering this place, this room is an unexpected surprise."

 

[s@squ@tch]

Marot the Deadly

"This just doesn't seem right." He thought to himself as he entered the room.

"It is most kind of you sir to have prepared a meal for us, but how did you know we were coming?"

He walks up to the end of the table opposite the lord.

"We have been in your lands for several days, and encountered many strange things, but have had no contact with you, not a word."

"But yet, when we set out to venture to this castle, we find you waiting for us, meal in hand?"

He shakes his head a bit.

"I just don't understand it. Perhaps you could explain it to me so that it would make some sense."


OOC: Use diplomacy +12 to try and improve any attitude

 

[stonegod]

As the group places themselves around the table and Jarrith breaks break, Sergei takes a sip of his wine. At all the questions, the Lord sighs and puts down the glass. He inclines his head at Janis. "Very well. I shall start tonight's entertainment. But I prefer to see my guests in front of me, even if they refuse the better of my hospitality." When it becomes clear the Lord will not continue until that concession is made, the Stormhand reluctantly enters.

"I will answer Master Marot's suspicions first. While I am busy attempting to cleanse this place, I do get news of the town and surrounds from my retainers. I regret not being able to attend to the village as much as I would desire, but my time is occupied here. I had been lax in not knowing about the zombie issue until it was too late; I resolved not err again and thus came forth when the lycans assaulted. But to answer you pointed question---I have the road to the Castle warded. None may approach without my knowledge. When I determined who my guests would be, it was a simple matter to have my man prepare this meal."

[Spellcraft: There are various wards to perform such protection, though the simpler ones are effective to a lesser distance.]

He continues to sample his food as he speaks, though he takes no more than others to preserve manners. "Now to the Stormhand's question, the matter of your host. The ir'Zarovich have homes in the Lakeside territory, in the Icetop Mountains. A minor, if old house, our glories long behind us. Our ancestry ties us to the time before Karnn himself, where our lands were greater, though not greater than his might. Suffice it to say, my life has been occupied by the traditional Karrn passtimes and customs, and though I did not graduate from Rekkenmark or participate personally in the Bone Legions, we had our own retainers present during the War.

"Things became interesting a few months ago, when a man of less than reputable worth came to me with artifacts claiming to be of the Zarovich line. Under questioning, he turned out to be a minor scribe on an excavation near Lakeside, seeming to wish to make a quick coin off our name. When it became clear to me that there was truth to the germ of his story, I made my way here to claim what is rightfully ours. And that is my tale, as little of it as there is.

Taking one final sip before putting down his glass, Sergei turns to the group. "Now, you have heard my tale. I wish to know of yours, of what you have been attending to here in our benighted land."

 

[James Heard]

"It seems as if you've heard the story whole enough," Janis says simply.

 

[stonegod]

Sergei chuckles lightly. "Ah, no. You have me at a disadvantage. Dear Ireena has told me only of your efforts in the zombie plague; I have heard nothing else of your travels. But I do have a question of the zombie issue. Was Father Danovich truly the cause? Did you find what allowed him to bring such evil?"