Curse of Strahd [CLOSED]

[Abrahms]

Realizing her appearance, shifting, and even words did little to calm the others down, Syvis kept to herself the rest of the boat ride back to shore, watching the fog roll over the water.

Once they landed she listened to the man and his tone, his genuine confusion. As the man started rambling to himself, Syvis turned her amber eyes towards the others, "... I feel this to be madness aided by herbs. I'm unsure of why he would take the girl, and go through so many steps, preparation, even to be fearful of being found, but in the pack, some would eat plants and later snap at everyone. Convinced the rest of the pack would eat them, or attack them, even mothers would abandon their pups, convinced somehow weak wobbling wolf pups would be their death." She paused, "However to get to that point ... usually needed to be constant doses. Brief paranoia would pass once the herb did as well."

Rubbing the wolf tooth necklace she wore the druid continued, "I cannot speak much for humans, not even being one myself, but, little one, if you're comfortable speaking, how did this start? Mankind's decisions confuse me still, and his mumbling seems more convinced fate has marked him badly, it feels strange he would have acted to this point."

 

[ZombWie]

The big man jumps from the boat as soon as it beaches and turns to help the VIstani girl off the boat, but watches as she leaves the robe and bounces onto land. Hircus reaches into the boat grabbing the robe and tossing it to the girl, "You'll freeze without this." He then picks up the chain mail and begins to put it on while he listens to the mutterings of the fisherman. "You must have invited her in. We found a tunnel beneath your bed in the small yellow house back in Vallaki. It's yours, is it not?" The cleric continues with the small buckles and cinches the belt around his midsection only to remind himself that his stomach is still sloshing and gurgling.

Syvis proposes a possible theory for the fisherman's condition and Hircus listens intently. "I know a bit about poisons and such. Sword wounds and amputations aren't the worst I had to deal with in my day. What you say makes good sense." Securing the last of his armor, Hircus stands pulling on his pack and hefting his hammer. "Now, do we risk returning to Vallaki or do we drag this guddler directly to the Vistani?" He looks at the group then turns to the girl, "What do you say? Should we take him to your people?"

 

[Epiphany]

Moire finds herself in a uniquely murky area for doing what's Lawful Good.

Her first instinct is to turn Pullo over to the people of the village for justice. Except she knows first hand the Baron's man is an uncaring monster. And the prejudice of Vallaki's people against the Vistani might mean they turn a blind eye to the fisherman's madness because one of their own wasn't harmed.

Is turning him over to the Vistani any better? Their justice is likely to be that of the mob; brutal and angry and more of vengeance than of justice. But it was their girl taken and Ilmater knows what he might have done to her if they hadn't found the poor girl. Their motives might be less than saintly but would their actions be unjustified?

Normally, in a conflict that bridges two separate people, appealing to the lord of the land makes the most sense. Except this lord of the land wants to murder the party. Or worse.

In the end, she bows her head in brief prayer while the rest of the party groups up on the shores of the lake. "No, we can't return to Vallaki. If the Baron's man hasn't already blackened our name there, we hold one of their villagers by force of arms and it's only his word against the word of a Vistani girl. Outside of the personal danger to us, it seems unlikely his crimes will receive the sober objectivity they deserve. He won't necessarily fare better in the hands of the Vistani. Probably worse. But I suspect there's a cool head or two among them that can weigh the man's crimes against their clan's relationship with Vallaki."

"Unless you have a reason for us not to take him," Moire says to the little girl, in a kindly voice.

 

[Baba Luga]

Still quite blue in the face, Arabelle takes the heavy robe Hircus offers and drapes it over her shoulders like a regal cape. All but her small head is lost in the dark material. "Are you a knight?" she asks the cleric as he dons the second-hand chain mail that once belonged to the priest of a tempest god.

The girl seems wary of Syvis' question, and looks to the others for assurance before answering. "I didn't do anything," she protests. "He pretended to be friendly and give me, Hester and Manfri presents, but we could tell he's strange. Then he snuck up and caught me alone." Her tears are coming again now. "He just talks about luck all the time, and how Vistani are so lucky and he's so unlucky. Stupid." She turns away and wipes her tears.

Pressed further about Faria and the place beneath his bed, Pullo grows agitated. "No sir," he says, still looking down, not meeting Hircus' eyes. "I have no such tunnel. Where would it go?" He rubs his scalp with both hands and mumbles to himself, too quietl to understand.

Composing herself somewhat, Arabelle answers the questions posed by Hircus and Moire. "Yes," she proclaims, with eyes closed and nose in the air. "Take this criminal to Papa and Uncle. They will punish him."

"It will be my death," Pullo moans, drawing his hands down from head to thickly-stubbled jowls.

 

[ZombWie]

Hircus chuckles at Arabelle's suggestion that he is a knight. "No lass, I am not of such noble birth. I am a soldier priest of the righteous Torm." As he says Torm, Hircus holds his right hand palm out in front of his chest. "I have sworn to travel Torm's road and bring his light to the dark places. His road has lead us to you." The cleric takes a knee in front of the girl and cinches the robe a little more tightly around her. "It is clear that you are royalty, Your Highness.", he says with a bow of his head and another chuckle.

 

[Abrahms]

Understanding that Pullo had snatched the girl as a pseudo-rabbit's foot, Syvis snarled. "It was bad enough you assumed fate was challenging you, but to assume another could fix your problems ..." the elf growled under her breath. Stepping up she attempted to look over Pullo for what she assumed to be marks of a vampire, "The hole under your house led to another, where the vampire fed often -- where a pup-- child suffered as food for it. It seems you weren't part of its meals from what I can tell."

Crossing her arms she studied the human, disdain apparent on her face, "Did you ever consider, if you were truly marked by luck, that it was testing you, giving you a chance to rise above, to prove your strength and value? Animals do not curse fate -- they do not understand the concept, for them it is merely life, and they seek to live." Poking him in the chest with a finger she added, "I question if you do, or if you only want to escape, one way or another."

Tired of dealing with him she moved to the boat where Otrev's cage rested, picking it up once more in her arms. "We should get the girl somewhere warm soon, a robe will only do so much if her clothes are still damp."

 

[ZombWie]

"Yes, I agree, she will suffer if we allow her to stay out here much longer. There is no point in returning to Vallaki. We should head directly to the Vistani camp." Hircus stands gathers his things then looks in the boats for a length of rope he can use to bind Pullo's wrists and give the a way to tether him.

 

[Baba Luga]

As Hircus makes the final adjustments to his armor, the tolling of distant bells reaches the lake. They ring but twice and then fade. Ina opines that it's no doubt now past the time when the Baron would have his midday meal. Pacing around in her oversized cape, Arabelle takes up the tolling and continues it with the name of Hircus' deity: "Torm. Torm. Torm. Torm."

Pullo bristles at Syvis' chastisement, but seems to think better of objecting and instead looks away and grumbles to himself. He allows Hircus to bind his hands with a length of coarse, moldy rope cut from the supply in the nearby shed.

As you start back for the Vistani camp west of Vallaki, the quality of light, which had improved a bit after the rain stopped, is already fading. Moire and Syvis can guess that twilight isn't too many hour off. Night falls early in Barovia.

The tied prisoner and young girl added to your party force you to move at a slower pace than before. Arabelle walks confidently at Hircus' side. She clearly knows her way around these parts. Her long cloak drags behind her in the muddy road. Its edges will be filthy and torn from snagging on roots and stones by the time you get back to her people. Choosing a moment when Syvis is farther away or distracted, the girl whispers to Hircus, "Is she one of the Ruvisti?"

Pullo alternates between sullen silence and bouts of complaining to himself. "Rise above. Easy for somebody lucky to say. Take away shape-shifting and forest magic and see how you like it. She confirmed it: 'Pullo, I am sorry for you, but your luck has run out. No more fish until you find it again. If you can't fish, you will have to beg your friends. No respect for beggars. Sleep well and find your luck tomorrow.'"

Even at this slower pace it takes just over half an hour to circle around the northwest side of Vallaki and return to the Old Svalich Road west of town. The snacks that Hircus and Syvis provided earlier are fading from memory, leaving everyone a bit peckish. Even Syvis' stomach is grumbling now.

Following the path back into the forest, where Tegan left and Syvis joined your group, you're soon at the edge of the Vistani camp, a place Syvis has not seen yet. a few of the gray elves are near the houses at the foot of the hill a couple hundred feet away. As before, tethered horses stand out among the wagons crowded around the large tent at the crest of the hill.

​

 

[Abrahms]

Syvis glared at Pullo between when she scanned the surroundings for risks. Baring her teeth slightly they sharpened in her irritation before fading as she snorted, "You think I was born to it? No, little one -- no. I had to work, to put effort forth. It was not luck, it was dilligence. Something I've yet to see from many humans."

Adjusting her hold on the birdcage she continued, "It took a century of focus and study before I could manage to create a single nourishing berry or heal a small cut without bandages and salves. Another fifty before I could shape my form as I do, and still I know I am lacking compared to others I lived with ... those who could fly as giant eagles or run through forests as great beasts." The druid turned her amber eyes on the pouting man, "In that time I practiced skills that do not rely on either, knowing that as much as I struggled, it could easily disappear, the spirits abandoning me, and nature casting me out." Tapping lightly on the cage as she frowned from the rumble of hunger, "I say as I do because I understand it to be the rules of the world. Fate is a human fixation -- it cares not. Nature will respond more, for better or worse."

With a final huff of speaking so much she studied him, "Now. Who is 'she'?" The druid glanced at the camp, unsure what to expect from another group of people after the village earlier.

 

[ZombWie]

A broad smile brightens the cleric's face as he watches Arabelle pace regally back and forth chanting the name of his righteous deity. "Your highness! Your prayer in the name of Lord Torm brings great blessings to your people as does your wise leadership. What say you to a short walk in the woods then onward to the kingdom on the hill? There your triumphant return will be celebrated with great feasts a peal of trumpets and much rejoicing." Hircus leans in closer to the small, imaginary queen. "And maybe a warm fire and a bowl of soup." he adds with a wink.

On the walk back to the Vistani camp Hircus stays near the girl with one hand on his hammer and an eye on their prisoner. The visit to the camp earlier that day was a confusing one. The party was not accepted with open arms by the Vistani, so maybe returning with their lost young one will change their level of trust in the four adventurers. Passing the junction where they watched Tegan leave them, Hircus realizes that they are returning with a new fourth member. He wonders silently whether the elves and the VIstani will notice.

Hircus is roused from his thoughts by Arabelle's question. He knits his brow and rubs his chin while watching Syvis walk ahead of them. "Hmm, what do you think your highness? She is a friend, but I am not familiar with the word Ruvisti? Maybe you can teach me something."

 

[Epiphany]

While Hircus tends to the Vistani girl, and Syvis argues with Pullo, Moire simply walks with a steady pace with the fisherman on a tight leash. Constant vigilance makes for somewhat exhausting travel. Still, the man has some connection to a vampire, knowingly or not. They managed to get the upper hand on him. She has to make sure they keep it.

The grumbling of her stomach reminds her of how precarious their position is. The town they sheltered in last night is denied them. Food is scare; they have none left. While they have their limited arms and armor, they don't have much in the way of coin to buy much of anything. Moire's been this desperate before, but piracy was an option in those days. Now, she looks at her friends and feels the responsibility of keeping them alive weighing on her shoulders.

Hircus manages a light mood, at least, and it's a warmth of spirit she heats herself by. When the group finally reaches the Vistani camp, Moire's even managed to regain a bit of her former cheer.

It's tempting to talk to the elves first, given Ina's known to them and Syvis' company can only add to their approachableness. But the girl is the priority. And so Moire leads them into the encampment, plainly angling for the tent and the Vistani.

 

[Baba Luga]

Pullo looks straight ahead and pretends not to hear as Syvis holds forth. In his cage, Otrev is quickly overwhelmed by the rapid string of abstract ideas and condensed memories. "What? Who? When?" he asks desperately, dancing around in his cage before just giving up and heartily agreeing to everything Syvis says. "Okay! Sure! Yep! You said it!" In answer to Syvis' closing question, Pullo does not reply but shuts his eyes tight until a dip in the road shocks them open again.

Arabelle, by way of further explaining "Ruvisti" to Hircus, describes the Wolf People of Pani Baratok. "Some used to be Vistani, some are Gadji. We don't like them," she says, "but they mostly stay away. They know the Vistani aren't scared."

When you emerge from the woods at the edge of the clearing, the three male elves near their houses look with wide eyes, nod and wave as you cross to the base of the hill. They call out a few Vistani phrases to Arabelle and she waves and calls back. At the closest house, which is Kasimir's, Ina excuses herself to check in on her old friend, saying she'll either join you up at the tent later, or you can find her here. The elf standing watch out front greets her and shows her in.

Arabelle picks up speed as you climb the hill, almost tripping on her long, grubby cloak, in her excitement to be back home. There are fewer horses tethered here than there were earlier, but the dozen or so large, colorful wagons, all distinct, still form a tight ring around the animals and central tent. A handful of Vistani men and women, and twice as many children are here among the wagons, talking, playing and tending to the horses. Some call out greetings to Arabelle, others watch coolly, and a few make aggressive hand gestures at Pullo, who is looking down at his feet while reluctantly letting Moire tug him along.

Several empty casks are piled outside the big tent. Its flaps are pinned open and three low campfires burn inside the cavernous interior. A motley array of rugs, cushions and stray pieces of furniture fill the space. Hircus is reminded of a commander's field tent, as opulent and capacious as a small manor.

Only four people are here in the tent at the moment, two of whom Moire and Hircus recognize as Cappi and Lala, the young Vistani they first met out on the road with Luca. Everyone is excited to see Arabelle, who runs over to embrace Lala and be spun around by her. Both of them speak rapidly to each other.

Cappi, the serious, stocky man in his twenties, with cropped hair and tattoos on his face, gives Arabelle a brief smile and rub on the head and then comes over to your group. "Thank you. Well done," he says to Moire and Hircus, leaning in close and clapping them mightily on the shoulders. Then he turns to Syvis and says, quite seriously, "You have changed? Perhaps you are a doppelganger after all." A twinkle and twitch at the corner of his eye tells the druid that he's kidding, but the joke seems to refer to some past incident she's unaware of.

Lala removes the heavy, damp piece of material that Arabelle has been wearing as a cloak and holds it up with an exaggerated expression of disgust. She ushers the girl over to a curtained-off area of the tent. The two continue talking away back there.

"Many are out searching," says Cappi. "Luca, Luvash, Arrigal. Until late tonight or tomorrow even. But you stay until they return. You will have a great reward from Luvash. Meanwhile, some wine? Food?"

"And why is this Gorgio here?" he asks, acknowledging Pullo for the first time. "He is to blame? I have seen you before." He smacks the bigger man across the brow, making him grunt and flinch to the side. "We will put him somewhere safe until Luvash returns."

 

[Abrahms]

Syvis smiled faintly at Otrev's responses, chuckling to the bird, "Too many things for you it seems. The simple life of a feathered one."

Arriving in the camp, the druid studied all the people watching them or idling around the camp. At being addressed directly by the man, Syvis merely tilted her head in confusion. "Doppelganger?"

Following the rest she couldn't help her belly grumbling again at the offer of food. "If you need help harvesting things, I'm willing to, I don't mind for the pa... for those offering us a place to rest." She paused, trying to keep things from slipping around a whole new group of people. "He is the one that tried to use the girl as a luck charm," Syvis answered simply.

 

[ZombWie]

Continuing the aside with Arabelle, Hircus listens to her explanation and then rubs his chin in exaggerated pondering. "Hmm, no? No. I don't think Syvis is a Ruvisti. She shares the shape of many animals and she doesn't seem too scary. Well, unless you area a rotund man tied to a paladin, but no. Syvis is a worker of nature's magics. I would like to hear more about these Ruvisti, though. Maybe when we get back to a warm fire." The cleric finishes with a smile and a pat on the girls shoulder.

Once the woods open up and the camp is visible ahead, Hircus takes on a more stoic face, prepared to face whatever mood greets them. He does relax a bit when the Vistani offer their thanks and a place to rest until their leader returns.

When Arabelle is led away to get cleaned up Hircus bows deeply, "Your highness, it was an honor to serve." He leans in and tussles her hair, "Now go wash off that fishy smell." He finishes with a laugh then a twinge of his stomach discomfort hits him like a shock. Despite his ailment, Hircus brightens at the mention of wine and food, "Well, we don't want to impose, but it has been a long day with little to eat or drink. Thank you!" Hircus stands tall with his hands on his hips, but slumps a little when Pullo gets slapped. "Eh, yeah. This is the man who was found with the young one. We suspect that he may have ingested something makes him this way. Maybe you have a little more insight. His rambling is nonsensical to us, but we are strangers in this place and of what we have seen so far has confounded us."

 

[Epiphany]

Moire's content to march silently, keeping an eye and leash on Pullo while Syvis questions him and Hircus sees to the child. The Paladin does manage a friendly smile when they arrive at their destination, though. She's not surprised to see Ina peel off to join the elves they met before. There's some history there. If Ina can remember more of what happened before, that must be an asset. ...Hopefully it's an asset. Moire remembers the heady shock of these old memories and grimaces to herself as they climb the hill. Knowledge is valuable but it may have its own price to pay.

At least the joy of the child coming home is enough to bring a smile to Moire's face once more. The reactions of the Vistani are complicated, though. She doesn't know them well enough to know how much of their distrust and anger is for Pullo alone or for any outsider.

The Vistani inside the tent are familiar, though, and Moire finds herself pleased to see them again. As they are pleased to see Arabelle. Moire stands apart from the crowd, still seeing to Pullo's continued obedience. When Capi approaches, though, the Paladin is happy to receive the shoulder clap and staggers slightly at the blow. As Hircus accepts the food and drink on behalf of the party, Moire lets out a sigh of relief. The group had a bit of respite last night, on the hard floor of that trading post's warehouse, but this is by far the most comfortable they've been since coming to this land.

"He is to blame," Moire says to Capi, echoing the man's words. "We'd be happy to give a full account at your convenience, including our own concerns. I place him in your hands to receive your justice."

The Paladin remains a touch uncomfortable with turning over a villager to a nomadic people he doesn't belong to. But they are the wronged party and there's very little evidence the Vistani in general, or Arabelle in particular, will receive a fair hearing in Vallaki. Once the fisherman is taken off her hands, Moire aims herself for a place by the fire and settles down to rest a bit. Although the party's recovered from the hard fight against the vampire, rowing after Pullo, successfully capturing and transporting him have taken their toll.

"Perhaps you'll introduce us to your kin?" Moire suggests to Capi, giving a respectful nod to the other Vistani in the tent.

 

[Baba Luga]

The tattooed man, Cappi, doesn't pursue the "doppelganger" jest further, but strongly objects to Syvis' offer to help. "No, no, sit!" He practically pushes her over to a group of cushions near one of the fires.

As he eagerly guides Hircus over as well, Cappi nods his head and grunts at the cleric's speculations about Pullo. "Maybe. But probably he is just one of the empty Gadji. There is no explaining what they do. My mother will take one look at him and know for sure. She has the sight." Although Pullo is within earshot, he doesn't have anything to say about this exchange, nor does he really appear to register the conversation at all.

At this point Lala comes out from behind the partition, heading for the opening in the tent. Cappi gently grasps her arm and says something, after which she takes the rope from Moire and leads Pullo outside. On her way by Hircus, she stops and curtsies briefly. "Sir," she says to the cleric, with a smirk. Then she takes the rope again and Pullo follows her away. Just before they exit, the fisherman turns back and softly says, "It is the last you will see of me."

From another part of the enormous tent, Cappi brings a ewer of watered-down wine and plates of assorted delicacies. The fare is a peculiar selection of preserved and fresh dishes, each tasty in its own way, but all very different in ingredients and seasoning.

While you eat, Cappi introduces the other Vistani man and woman here, Timbo and Kezia, both middle-aged. Timbo seems quite taken with Otrev. "Chirrikli-nivasi, pretty bird," he coos as he pokes a finger between the bars, which Otrev does not care for one bit.

Lala returns after a while, carrying a bundled pink frock. She and Cappi speak and then Lala goes back to where Arabelle is. The girl emerges soon after, wearing the pink dress, and rushes outside, calling as she does. Children's voices respond.

Over the next half hour, other Vistani adults come and go, introducing themselves, speaking to Cappi, Lala, Timbo and Kezia, then leaving after a while. Syvis, for her part, can sense that at least some of the conversations concern your group.

Eventually, the sound of horses outside announces the return of one of the search parties. The man Moire and Hircus recognize as Alexi from this morning comes into the tent, accompanied by four other Vistani. The wounds on his face have started to scab. He looks extremely relieved and, grasping the cleric and paladin's hands, thanks both profusely. The new arrivals help themselves to wine and food. After a while, one of the women who came in with Alexi takes up a lute and picks out a slow, soft tune.

 

[ZombWie]

Lala's comment brings a blush to the big man's face for taking the playact so far with the small girl, but his heart warms that it might have helped keep Arabelle's mind off her ordeal. Hircus winks and responds with a curt military "M'Lady."

Pullo's prediction has the opposite effect on Hircus, but he reminds himself that it is his job to bring deviants before their judge. Their fate is not his concern, and in this case if they had found the girl in a worse state they Pullo might already be dead. "Your deeds led you here, not that moldy rope on your hands. You must face those that you have wronged." Hircus reminds himself that the people of Vallaki have a warped sense of the Vistani. So far they have been treated well, but he can't help but wonder about their connection to the lord of this land.

The camp moves around Hircus as he sits and picks at the food and laughs at the conversation. His demeanor is affable, but he takes note of the goings on around the camp. After standing to greet Alexi Hircus eventually sits again and enjoys the company. He offers to take a look at Capi's face explaining that his time as a soldier was spent stitching together many wounds. If Alexi refuses once more he does not push the matter.

"Capi, we met you on the road this morning not far from a winery. When in Vallaki it was suggested that we should stop in there to make sure that everything is ok. It seems that they have not delivered much wine lately. Do you know of this winery?" The cleric continues, "It is not called for in the texts, but I tend to include a little wine in some Tormish ceremonies, so I may have a professional interest as well." He ends with a belly laugh and a slap on the back of the person next to him.

 

[Baba Luga]

Hircus' faith teaches that wine is jointly the gift of twin goddesses Lliira and Leira, mistresses of joy and illusion respectively. The Vistani's watered wine goes down easily, though it catches up with one before long. Add the preternatural thirst Hircus has endured since this morning, and it's a potential recipe for drunkenness.

Cappi has been drinking liberally himself as he socializes and serves those those who come and go. He crouches close to Hircus and leans in, quite serious. "Is everything okay at the vineyard? No, everything is not okay. We went yesterday to see. Kasht-Gadjikane, the wild people, have seized it, and there is much revelry at Yester Hill where they hold festivities."

Cappi places a heavy hand on Hircus' shoulder and leans in closer still, so that the two men's foreheads nearly touch. His other hand presses on the front of the cleric's recently-acquired armor. "You have seen what happens to meddlers in Barovian. Do not be a meddler. Let King Strahd settle it. Kings need wine too."

That said, Cappi pushes himself back from Hircus, blinks, then gets up to greet some more new arrivals. A singer has joined the woman with the lute, and a few people are swaying in a slow dance to their ballad.

 

[ZombWie]

Hircus regards Capi soberly as he contemplates the new information. His brow furrows at the mention of Strahd, but he only nods in response, as if to acknowledge he is hearing Capi and understanding the warning. Was it a warning or was it a threat? The cleric holds his tongue as Capit releases him and walks to greet new arrivals. Once he is sure that no one is looking her turns to Moire and gives a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Then scowls and takes another long pull of the Vistani wine.

The more people they meet in Barovia, the more complicated their situation becomes. The motivations of these people are blended as if there is no distinction between right and wrong, day and night. Once again, Hircus wonders how truly safe they are sleeping in the Vistani camp tonight.

 

[Epiphany]

Unlike her clerical friend, Moire does not drink much. If for surprisingly similar reasons. As a pirate, she'd been involved in many such reveleries and she let wine go to her head on numerous occasions. Usually with unpleasant results for everyone else. The old Moire welcomed the loss of judgement, the lack of responsibility. But the Paladin had fought too long and too hard to sign away her sovereignty of reason.

So she sips politely from a glass, and makes sure it's a single glass. She doesn't begrudge her friends and any wish they have to partake. But someone has to keep their head, just in case, and it might as well be her.

At Cappi's warning, though, Moire perks up. "Luca mentioned the winery as well, and was equally careful about warning us off from getting involved. Although I had the impression that he wouldn't mind it if we happened to solve that situation. As memory serves, a group was sent from Vallaki to investigate some days ago but no one's heard from them." Very careful territory, given the arms and armor her friends now wore presumably belonged to that ill-fated group. "As it is, we'd thought to help our good friend Ina's kin, Kasimir, in a journey to a temple. But it occurs to me what's bad for the winery is bad for everyone, especially in a land like Barovia. I don't imagine anyone wants King Strahd to actually solve it, do they? Kings have a habit of decimating whatever offends them and the winery's loss is everyone's loss. If we were to look into it, is there anything useful you could tell us about it? Such as the name of the proprietier? And who these Kasht-gadjikane might be? We've heard them named as wild people but not why. What do they want? What might they value in exchange for giving up the winery?"

 

[Baba Luga]

Cappi seems skeptical when Moire professes ignorance of what befell the group of adventurers who set out from Vallaki. "The three wanderers from Vallaki? Yes, I thought you met them already," he says while touching the lightning-bolt decorated shield at Moire's side with his toe.

"The winery people, they are the Martikovs. You will do what you want, of course. Go and see what you see. I only give a warning. I cannot speak of the habits of your kings; I only know mine. He is fond of wine, he is also fond of Kasht-Gadjikane. Vistani, on the other hand, we are fond of wine. If something happens to the wild people, what does it matter to us?"

Some of the other nearby Vistani have taken an interest in Hircus, Cappi and Moire's conversation, significantly more so when Cappi asks a bit louder, "Now what is this temple where Kasimir will visit?"

 

[Epiphany]

With the touch to her shield, Moire simply shrugs and says "If they're the same, then no wonder Vallaki's received no news. For my part, I never met them to know for certain if the poor bodies we found belonged to the same expedition or not. But that's tragic business and I think we've had enough tragedy for one day." A reminder of the concern over the missing girl shouldn't go amiss, especially if it's also a reminder of those who brought the girl back.

When Cappi delivers his warning, Moire nods her head and smiles slightly to show appreciation. "I believe we all understand that if we choose to go to the winery, it was no idea of our most gracious hosts. If your king has any ire, it's for us and certainly nothing any of you excellent people could be blamed for." She's not sure if that's really their concern but there's a subtle social undercurrent she can't quite make out but it might be that. "All we have to say to anyone who asks is that we're grateful that you shared what you know, just as you shared what you have."

"As for the temple..." Moire shrugs and nods towards the exit of the tent, in the direction where the elven huts lie. "We're strangers to these lands. We wouldn't have known the winery if not for your kinsmen's directions. Perhaps it's significant to the elves." Again, not a lie but not the whole truth either. But then, Zhudan was said to be a power older than Barovia, stronger than Strahd, and these Vistani called that one their king. "We can ask Ina later when she joins us but I think she's catching up with her kinsmen."

Leaning forward, the Paladin attempts to parry the thrust of the conversation in another direction. "And speaking of kin, we've heard tale of one of yours. A Madame Eva? We thought we might pay our respects to her and perhaps seek her counsel in the coming days. If you have any tips on an appropriate offering to bring or subjects to avoid with her," Moire flashes a smile, "We're from the mists after all and wouldn't want to accidentally offend."

 

[Baba Luga]

Cappi nods in acceptance at Moire's change of subject from the temple back to the winery, but the looks he exchanges with his compatriots make it clear that they won't likely forget the matter soon.

"Madame Eva, yes," says a young woman with sharp features whose bright orange vest is fastened by ivory buttons. "Tser Pool is a very pretty spot this time of year. All Vistani like pretty things. I think bring her some nice jewelry."

The middle-aged man Timbo, the Vistana who was so taken with Otrev, offers his opinion that Madame Eva will want to hear stories of the faraway places you come from. "And do not worry about offending the great-great-grandmother; she has seen everything and you cannot shock her."

Far away outside the tent, probably all the way from Vallaki, bells ring faintly. Glimpses of sky through the flaps and the smoke hole up above reveal that twilight has come. Shadows cast by the three fires dance higher on the tent walls. The woman with the lute has been joined in a faster tune by another musician on the fiddle, with nearby Vistani clapping along in rhythm.

 

[Abrahms]

Listening to the others talk, Syvis kept more of her attention focused on Otrev and working to convince him to leave his cage. Even as he picked seeds and berries out of her hand, "accidentally" nipping her palm and tried to convince her it'd be better to feed him with his tin, the druid shrugged. Explaining to the little bird, "There is much pain in the world, and no true way to avoid it. This is pain I'm willing to tolerate for you, little Otrev."

Mentions of 'wild people' however caught her interest and she looked up from feeding the petite bird. "How do you mean ... wild people? Are they druids? Or are they like rangers, walking more on the line of people than nature ..."

 

[Epiphany]

Much as it's tempting to continue to question the Vistani all evening, it's a poor guest who imposes upon their host. And Moire hears the lute and the fiddle taken up and joins in with the others in clapping along in the same rhythm. And should anyone be inclined to dance, Moire is equally inclined.