Curse of Strahd [CLOSED]

[Abrahms]

Syvis nodded to Moire, but went and grabbed Otrev's cage, holding it out for someone to take, "Please ... " she asked, "I know it gets in the way, but I promised to care for him." Waiting until someone took the offered cage she stepped back, a small part of her giddy to return to such a comfortable form.

"I cannot speak, but I'll try to do my best to answer if I need to." With a nod, she focused her mind to that of a wolf, fur growing and pushing out of her skin, face elongating into a snout, her clothing and gear melting away as her posture shifted, leaving her on four paws in the mud, a dark-furred wolf standing there, ears and nose twitching at all the sounds and smells around it, the only thing unchanged being the amber eyes that watched the party.

Concerned Otrev might panic, the wolf sat, giving a strange low rumble as it spoke to the bird, "Please don't panic -- I'm still the elf who has been carrying you and feeding you. Someday I may be able to be like you." Nodding once more at Moire's instructions, the wolf moved to help with gathering the request, dragging things with her teeth and sniffing around the area. Smelling the same scent as the hut she growled, then at the place she had suggested a child was she whined faintly, hoping the others would understand her meaning.

Hoping into the boat as it started to get pushed off shore, she sat at the front, nose working almost constantly in an attempt to track the smell through the fog, turning her head this way and that, trying to give guidance in direction, though not minding the occasional head scratch as they went, tail slightly twitching in enjoyment. Though if she was an elf it might have been demeaning, there were just some things that came with the form.

 

[Baba Luga]

When the shed is unlatched and opened to retrieve the oars, small crabs scuttle into the shadows. An old, worn horseshoe hangs on the back of the door. There are two pairs of oars, both of which you carry back to the dinghy.

While others load the packs and equipment into the bottom of the boat, Hircus removes his heavy armor, then places that among the other items.

Otrev is quite taken aback by Syvis' transformation. He says nothing, but jumps around aggressively, then stops to stare at her in disbelief. He backs up to the far side of his cage and stares some more.

With everything on board, everyone crowds into the small craft. The packs and other things push around your legs. Hopefully there won't be any need to change positions while out on the lake. Moire pulls at the oars and takes you away from the shore. The weather, while by no means idyllic, has certainly improved since the rain stopped nearly an hour ago. The fog is in retreat, giving a bit more visibility over the water. You should be able to get about a half mile out before losing sight of land.

 

[Epiphany]

As she rows with careful, deliberate motion, Moire glides the boat across the fog-drenched water with an effortless skill borne of long years of drills and practice...mostly with the view to surprise and ravish merchant ships. The Paladin lacks any other points of reference so she fixes the sun's position as best she can. Even in the thickest fog, one can usually keep track of the brightest point of diffuse light above. It's not much for navigation but it's all she has to keep a straight course.

Assuming the fisherman went on a straight course. But if his scent led to the boats and out onto the water, rather than hugging the shore, either he had his own means for navigating the lake, he left markers of some kind along the way or he knew the same trick she did and set course for the far side of the lake with the sun to keep him straight. If it was the first, they were lost anyway. If it was the second, perhaps her friends might spot any suspicious debris left as guides. Otherwise, all she has is the third. Action is preferable to inaction when a child's life is at stake.

"Keep watch," she whispers to her party. "Look for anything in the water. And remember, your voice carries out here."

And Moire continues to row.

 

[Baba Luga]

Five or ten minutes from shore, everything appears very gray—the fog, the clouds, the water. But Syvis' lupine nose tells her a different story. The human odors from back on the beach are not far away. While her eyes are nowhere near as sharp as her nose in this form, with the scent to focus on, she's able to pick out another boat sitting low in the water about three hundred feet ahead and to the left. Its occupant is a broad man holding a fishing rod over the water. The only spot of color is a small bit of blue on top of his head.

 

[Abrahms]

Losing the scent almost immediately, Syvis let out a soft whine, her posture shifting to show disappointment. While the boat continued, she tried her best to pick up anything -- sight, smell, sound ... the fog seemed to mute everything. Except ... wait. She sniffed the air again, trying to make sure before turning her head off to the side -- a familiar scent, one she had just been surrounded by.

Twisting her head to look around at the others she hoped they understood when she fixed her head in that direction, a faint wag to her tail, both ears forward and alert.

 

[ZombWie]

Hircus sits very still in the damp boat seat. The big man holds his elbows in and his knees together and it doesn't take long for insides of his thighs to burn a little more than uncomfortable. The cleric is in rough shape, the bit of fish he ate didn't do anything to calm his stomach and now the pinching pang of earlier is returning to cause his stomach to spasm. Between his legs rests his gear and the chain mail he removed so that he didn't become an impromptu anchor. Now their wolf friend's tail is wagging and she looks like she has a scent. In a very low voice Hircus leans into the the wolf's ear and asks, "What is it? Trouble?" and Hircus squints in the direction Syvis is oriented. He then waves to Ina and Moire to make sure that they see that Syvis has something on the wind.

 

[Baba Luga]

Attention drawn by Syvis' gestures, everyone notices the silhouette of the large man in the boat three hundred feet away as he quickly stands in his little craft. He and the boat rock wildly side to side before steadying. His arm, and the rod it holds, whip back and forward. The line isn't visible at this distance, but he's clearly standing up in his dinghy, facing three-quarters away from your approach, fly fishing. At this distance, the man is only as tall as a fingernail, but there's a confident grace to his movements.

 

[Abrahms]

At Hircus' question, the wolf dipped her head and raised it again, attempting a nod. Bringing a paw up towards her nose she rubbed it then focused back on the fisherman. Tilting her head she thought for a moment, then adjusting her position in the boat she leaned against the cleric, bringing up both paws together and doing a circular motion, like someone rolling something.

Flipping her head back her ears lowered as she looked at the others, a faint whine of a question, unsure her motions were going understood.

 

[Epiphany]

Moire stares at the wolf. Stares a minute more. She taps her own nose, then looks where the wolf is looking. And then she slooowly nods.

Silently, the Paladin gestures to the rest to get down and stay down. She rows a few more times in the direction Syvis pointed out. The instant she sees even the slightest sign of the fisherman, she brings her oars up out of the water. And then she coasts them towards the fisherman's boat. The man's attention is likely on his fishing and he's mostly facing away from them. Moire wagers they can let the boat glide in, even if it takes a few minutes longer.

If Pullo doesn't notice them until they draw near, Moire brakes by dipping her oars carefully into the water, angled to minimize drag (at first) because fast drag creates ripples and noise. Then she slowly rotates the oar blades to increase drag bit by bit. Given their velocity isn't high, it won't take much.

If Pullo still hasn't noticed them by this point, the Paladin simply clears her throat and says "Good day for fishing?" in her most polite tone possible.

 

[Baba Luga]

Moire's expertise and attention to the finer points of the operation can't account for the cramp in Hircus' leg. All the gear packed in the little boat gives him precious little room to shift to a more comfortable position. At last, he absolutely has to stretch that leg out. Doing so allows the folded chain mail to shift noisily to one sidewhich startles Otrev and sends him slapping around in his cage. Miraculously, the man presumed to be Pullo continues to face the other way, flicking his rod out over the water, completely absorbed in his fishing.

When Moire judges the boats are finally close enough for her purpose, she hails the man, who whirls around, his stubble-girdled mouth open in shock. This quick pivot of his bulk—his great gut hangs well over his trousers—sends the little craft he stands on rocking wildly. He takes a step to steady himself, but this only makes things worse. He drops the rod in the lake and his arms begin to pinwheel, and that settles the matter. Pullo's boat capsizes, dumping him overboard on the port side. He lets out a miserable groan as he splashes into the frigid water.

Someone else is thrown from the boat as it flips over: a young girl whose hands and feet are bound. She must have been lying down. She thrashes in the water for a moment before sinking out of sight.

 

[Epiphany]

The commotion with Hircus and Otrev causes Moire to audibly grind her teeth but thankfully the Gods are with them. Ordinarily, she'd just cheerfully shrug off unhappy accidents but the tension of their approach is clearly wearing on her patience. Or maybe it's just the feel of the oars in her hands, the buoyant bobbing of the boat beneath her, the memories of a life she doesn't want to remember.

On the other hand, the comical sight of Pullo trying (and failing) to avoid plunging into the water is, frankly, hilarious. Moire doesn't laugh but she has to repress a smile with one hand.

Which promptly vanishes once she sees the tied-and-bound girl dropped into the lake. Horror seizes her heart and the Paladin acts at once, abandoning all pretense at stealth for powerful, accelerating strokes of the oars. Moire rows for all she's worth, rowing the boat towards the capsized, helpless girl.

 

[Abrahms]

Attempting to keep quiet on the boat it didn't seem to work well -- and when the other rowboat capsized, Syvis stood at the front of the boat she was in, attempting to peer into the water and keep an eye on the young girl. Once she figured she was close enough she dove in, paws and whole body working to push herself down in the water.

Faintly catching sight of the girl's panic she wished she could tell her to calm down -- thrashing would only use up her air faster -- but instead attempted to snap at the rope around her hands, hoping to break it so the girl could start to swim. Trying not to hit her, Syvis missed, the girl seeming more panicked at suddenly finding a wolf coming towards her.

Unsure what else to do, the wolf tried to swim under the girl to slow her descent, hoping someone with hands could do more.

Feeling the water above her move as the girl got pulled out of the lake, Syvis turned her gaze on the fleeing figure of Pullo, pushing with her paws to cover the distance, fur heavy and slowing. Opening her jaws she attempted to grab at the man, only to get a foot to the snout as he swam away -- though Syvis noticed a strange expression on his face, as though he didn't entirely know what he was doing. Movement caught her attention below as strange fish suddenly appeared, nipping at the man but fading almost as quickly as they appeared.

 

[Epiphany]

While Syvis the wolf wasn't particularly effective in rescuing the girl, she did buy them time for Moire to draw close in the rowboat. The Paladin readies herself to dive in after the girl, when the Cleric of Torm simply leans over the side of the boat and pulls the struggling girl right out of the water. Perfect.

The girl's safe. Time for the next target. Moire looks about for Pullo and spots Syvis attempting to...what, bite him? Create drag on him? He pulls away but isn't making the best of time. Instead, the Paladin rows the boat in strong, confident strokes that devour the distance between them.

As the boat draws near to Pullo, Moire's unsmiling face greets the man as she leans forward to offer him a hand up. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, sir. And when I say easy or hard, I mean for you. We've caught you with a tied up child in your boat and there's no way you can outswim us. Your choices are to die here, or to come aboard, answer our questions and then face whatever justice this blighted land has to offer."

Moire balances easily in the boat, long accustomed to the sway and shake of water. One hand remains outstretched to the man. The other hand drifts down towards her handaxe.

 

[Baba Luga]

Still bound and gagged, the Vistani girl who Hircus fished out of the lake struggles to catch her breath through the soaked cloth tied across her mouth. Her gasps shift to sobs as Moire pulls the crowded rowboat to where Pullo and Syvis are struggling in the water.

Confronted by Moire's hard words, the great man grabs hold not of her hand, but of the gunwale—the paladin has to shift her weight back to prevent the boat from tipping over. The kidnapper closes eyes moist with an unknown mixture of lake water and tears, and bows his head in defeat. Looking at the backpacks, weapons and armor distributed in the bed of the craft she captains, Moire is well aware that this vessel will in no way accommodate herself, three companions, the Vistani girl and a captive Pullo.

 

[Epiphany]

"Help the poor girl," Moire says to Hircus.

Swiveling the boat around, with Pullo smart enough to hold on, she ties off the other rowboat to this rowboat before giving Pullo another hard look. "I think we both know how hard it's going to be to get that boat flipped over. Can you hang on until we get back to shore or do we need to make a try?" With a softening expression, the Paladin adds, "You face a serious situation, sir, but we are not heartless or the type to inflict suffering. If you can't make the shore by holding on, we'll see about getting you back into your boat."

 

[Baba Luga]

Maneuvering the loaded rowboat around with Pullo hanging from the side is a difficult operation, and the prospect of rowing back to shore this way while also towing the second boat doesn't seem good. In answer to Moire's question, the man in the water looks up with a face pale from the chill of the water. "The boat," he mumbles. "I will right her."

Releasing his grip on the gunwale he moves over to the over boat. With his teeth clacking together, he lowers himself in the water and pushes upward from beneath the overturned craft. It lifts up, rolls and settles back down with a gentle splash, taking on a considerable amount of water as it does, so it now rests rightside-up, but partly submerged. Pullo grabs hold of the boat and begins rocking it vigorously to and fro. With each swing, a bit of water splashes out over the sides. The operation will clearly take a while to complete. Meanwhile, his oars, which slipped free of their locks when the boat capsized, have drifted about ten feet away, and the drenched girl bound in your boat is starting to shiver. Ina takes out one of her daggers and starts cutting the girl's bonds, speaking soothing words as she does.

 

[ZombWie]

As the boat draws near enough to the girl Hircus reaches down into the water and pulls her into the boat. He sees Ina had the same idea and she helps lay the child on the deck of the tiny watercraft.

"That man is an animal!" The big cleric turns toward the man who seems to be kicking water at Syvis in wolf form. Hircus reaches an arm toward the escaping fisherman and points a finger at him.

"Torm! Bring forth your light!
Stop this miscreant's cowardly flight!"

Hircus looks to the sky where he expects to see Torm's light shine down from the heavens, but instead at the edge of his vision he glimpses another light. This other light shines from beneath the water and boils with fish. The cleric's forehead draws a pinched line of confusion at this corruption of Torm's blessing.

When Moire orders Hircus to help the child the cleric snaps from his reverie and turns toward the Vistani girl to remove her soaked gag.

 

[Baba Luga]

As Ina and Hircus lean over to remove the ties and gag, the girl's eyes widen in terror, but she does nothing to resist being cut free. She shifts away a bit and slowly works her hands and jaw, which clearly ache from being confined for who knows how long. Her rapid breathing comes under control, but not her sobs, which only grows into a full bout of tears. She holds a forearm across her red eyes and then, with a sudden lurch forward, buries her face in the crook of Hircus' shoulder. Heat radiates across the cleric's breast as warm tears soak through his shirt.

 

[Abrahms]

Seeing things appeared to be calming down, the wolf went and swam towards the slowly floating away oars, grabbing one in her mouth and tossing it into the boat Pullo was working on before grabbing the other, placing her paws over the edge of the boat the tossed it in. The amber eyes of the wolf glanced towards the sobbing girl, ears lowered as she whined softly, then the fur, paws, snout and ears fell away like a cloth almost, revealing a female wood elf resting in the water, trying to pull herself into the wooden structure -- the only thing not changing being the color of her eyes.

Expecting fear from the two new-comers, Syvis raised her hands, "I am not cursed, I am a druid who borrowed the form of a wolf." Attempting to settle herself, she kept her gaze on the heavier man, "I don't entirely think he's himself, Moire. I caught a glimpse in his eyes -- something more is there, but I'm not sure ... what it might be. Magical, herbal, or madness in itself."

 

[ZombWie]

The large man is surprised by the girl's sudden approach and he almost leans back from her sobbing form. His arms hang in the air for a moment around her, but a second later the softer side of the warrior priest takes over and Hircus gently holds the Vistani child hoping to give her some comfort. With wide eyes he looks to Moire and Ina giving the slightest shrug. He reaches with one arm to where his chainmail rests and tugs the folded robes from beneath the armor. "Here girl, you must be chilled to the marrow." The cleric then wraps the thick robe around the girl's shoulders. "We are here to take you home to your family. You can relax now. We have you." Hircus tries to keep his voice even and calm mimicking the tone his mother would take in such a situation.

 

[Epiphany]

Moire pats Hircus' shoulder, smiling affectionately at the older man's tender care. The Paladin nods once Syvis returns to elven form and speaks, making a point to show she's comfortable with the transformation (and thus trusts the elf isn't a werewolf). Even if their friendship is a day old and works like this are still new to her.

Seeing Pullo at work righting his boat, Moire circles the boat back for the remaining oar and moves up to carefully approach Pullo from the opposite side of the boat he's righting. She takes no chances that he might try to capsize them. Instead, she helps steady the boat if he manages to flip it. Then she'll join him in the boat and help him into it if need be, unconcerned. If he tries to flip her in, she wagers on her strength...and she can swim regardless, leaving the man outnumbered by her companions.

Although words come easily to the talkative Paladin, she saves them for when he's in the boat, having hopefully not complicated their lives doing so.

 

[Baba Luga]

By the time Syvis has wrangled the first wayward oar and returned, Pullo's has shaken shaken most of the water out of his boat. In her wolf shape it's quite impossible to maneuver the oar up and over the gunwale, so the best she can do is drop it in the water within Pullo's reach. Once she's moved away to fetch the second oar, Pullo picks up the first and heaves it into the boat. Then he kicks mightily in the water to lift his body up and over the gunwale, grabbing as far as possible on one of the thwarts to avoid tipping the vessel over again. Kicking even more furiously, he pulls himself into the boat and, after catching his breath, starts pushing out the remaining water with the oar.

When Syvis returns with the other oar and shifts back to her elf form, Pullo's eyes widen in dismay. He makes no gesture to help her aboard, but with his weight as a counterbalance, she's able, with more than a little effort, to emulate his maneuver and pull herself up into the boat. He observes this operation with a mask of horror. Sylvis' assurance that she is merely a druid and shape-changer seems only to cause the man further grief. He drops the oar, buries his head in his hands and moans, "No, I am the cursed one."

Moire has brought the two boats closer together and Pullo's words are loud and clear. Arabelle raises her head from the crook of Hircus' shoulder, wipes away tears and mucus on a bright yellow sleeve, and stares at the man in the other boat. And then, her chilled, purple lips dispense a torrent of words in the Vistani language. Otrev, who had been napping during the whole business of maneuvering and inverting boats, wakes with a start. Ina raises her eyebrows, whistles and barely suppresses a grin at Arabelle's words.

"It doesn't matter," Pullo says with resignation as he glances up from his hands at the Vistani girl, "Go ahead and put your evil eye on me. There is no place lower for me to sink."

 

[ZombWie]

Hircus allows the girl to sit up and look at Pullo in the other boat. The cleric's eyes go wide when this child releases such a deluge on the fisherman. For a just a moment Hircus looks at Ina questioningly, but then turns his attention to Pullo, "What curse do you speak of? We ended your vampire leech. The undead, once Faria is resting without her head, dead, in the woods only a few minutes walk toward Vallaki." Hircus pinches his brow looks the man over for any sign of what he might be talking about. He then turns back to Ina, "What did the girl say?"

 

[Epiphany]

Having climbed into the boat with Pullo, Moire flinches slightly at the aforementioned torrent of Vistani words and leans out of the way, so to speak. Seeing little that will be productively accomplished by letting the child spend any more time with her captor, the Paladin instead takes up the oars from Pullo, who appears to be in no useful position to contribute any work. She sets out for the shore with strong, slow strokes, doing her best not to outpace Ina.

While they return towards the shore, Moire peers upwards to once more mark the 'lighter spot in the sky' and its location so she can orient the boat properly. With a glance back at the fisherman, Moire says in a conversational tone, "So, why did you do it?"

 

[Baba Luga]

To Syvis' eyes, Pullo seems genuinely baffled by Hircus' talk of vampires and "Faria". "No, sir," he mutters, more to himself than Hircus, "I invite no dark creature in."

Ina is more informative. Acknowledging that her Vistani is still a little rusty, she says the last bit was something like, "The next time you defecate, scorpions will crawl up your behind and sting you on the inside forever and ever." This gem was preceding by other suggestions of bodily malfunction and unease. Hearing this translation of her invective, Arabelle snaps around, stops talking and regards Ina warily with arms crossed. The elf speaks some words in Vistani to the girl, who blushes and remains silent for the rest of the ride back.

In response to Moire's casual inquiry, Pullo stares down at the hands and complains, "I am the unluckiest man in Vallaki." After a moment's pause, he says more, and, bit by bit, becomes absorbed in an overly-detailed description of tides, weather patterns, some sort of dice game, signs and omens, the habits of the local fish and the comparative fortunes of other anglers. Hircus, Moire and Syvis all understand pieces of this speech, but the grand design, and Arabelle's role in it, if any, seems to reside at the center of a labyrinth deep in Pullo's mind. In any case, he's clearly given it a lot of thought.

Once the boats are back on the beach, Arabelle quickly disembarks, hopping in place and shivering. Pullo sits in his boat, caressing the gunwhale and uttering stray addenda to his lecture on fortune.