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Party 9

A call from one of the vistani, "you ask many questions and presume much outsider. If you truly wish to know the tale of the great general then sit and listen. It will only cost you a bottle of good wine." Their earlier opposition to your presence has seemed to have eroded with their liking of their current company and the absence of Ismark.

Davavor's pointy elf ears perk up at the mention of a new story, "My friends! A bottle of wine is a good price for a great story of a General and a Lord!" he asks for a bottle of red, trusting the barkeep to know what this group — the apparent owners for whom he works — prefer and consider 'best' before joining them, eager to hear a new tale, and excited to bring a new tale back to Daggerford on the morrow.
 
From somehwere under the table a lute was produces to provide rhythmic tones and inflection for the story,
"When wine flows free we remember a tale.
One of love and one of war, but they are one and the same.
Great Strahd the XI was a fearsome general,
He defeated the Turgs, foul invaders of our land.
He fought off covetous relatives, ones who desired his throne.
Then the unthinkable should happen, his own brother betrayed him.
Sergi bewitched his bride into loving him,
knowing full well Strahd would fight to the death for his love.
When Strahd was occupied leading the defence of our homeland,
he attempted a secret wedding before his return.
Only he was too slow, news had reached our beloved leader and,
abandoning the front, he rushed home.
Lord Strahd challenged him to an honourable duel,
and fight they did.
Sergi was no match for his brother, but his death did not stop the spell.
Overcome with grief Tatyana threw herself from the walls of Castle Ravenloft.
Strahd made a deal with any powers that would listen to save her soul.
Some even say he gave up his. There is only one thing we know for sure. He still searches for her, day and night he searches for her."

The sombre tones of their story finally coming to an end with the music. Long gulps of wine were drank and a air took on a heavy tone. They said not a word, waiting for someone to break the silence first.
 
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Davavor hummed the tune quietly under his breath as the silence settled, not wanting to forget it. After a moment had passed he compliments the story teller, "Truly a great tale of a great and honorable General. Lord Strahd still rules these lands then? How many years has it been since grief stricken Tatyana threw herself over the walls?"
 
Aelar leaned in closely to listen to the tune. He enjoyed the tale although he didn't quite believe it. Tales are tales and stories are just stories. What are the chances any of this is true he thought to himself.

"Hey.....where did you hear that story from?" Aelar drank more of his soup and politely refused any drink. He was tired. The long travel through the rain took its toll on him.
 
"time moves strangely in this land my friend, it is hard to say." The vistani' mood seems to have shifted to one of deep contemplation. They drink more from their glasses and return to being right lipped. "Apologies my friends but the hour grows late and we must be going if we wish to reach our camp. Farewell for now may the roads keep you safe."
They didn't wait for a reply, simply rose from where they were and headed out into the now inky black night. The common room was now empty with the exception of the Innkeeper, the only sound was the creak of timbers against the wind.
 
Aelar finishes his soup and starts to make his way upstairs to bed. It was a long day and he had to think about everything that had happened. It had only been one night since he was travelling with the Vistani, but so much had happened. Unfortunately he was no closer to finding out about the expansion of this civilization.


As Aelar enters the room he strips off his mossy leather armor. The moss was still damp from the rain outside which kept the leather and his clothing completely dry. He hung it up on the bedpost and began digging through his pack. He decided to rearrange his pack to make carrying it a bit more efficient, even though there wasn't that much in it to begin with. He took the hempen rope from his bag and made a makeshift clothesline in the corner of the room. He hung his wet boots up and any other wet items he had on him. While rearranging the pack he thought about the story. Fighting his brother? Betrayal? Suicide? It all seemed to far fetched to be real, but something about it was intriguing.

Aelar got himself ready for meditation. He sat cross-legged on the hard wooden floor. It felt like home. He went into the trance for four hours during the night.
 
After the long travel, wine and a sombre story, Willan suddenly felt very tired. He murmured good nights to the Vistani and his companions and shuffled off to his room. Worries of this strange land swirled at the edges of his mind as he climbed the stairs. Reaching his room, he shouldered the door open and saw the big waiting bed. All his worries melted away in a big smiling sigh. He barely managed to kick off his boots before slumping into bed and giving himself over to a deep sleep.
 

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