"Not life kill.  Nose smash, bones perhaps snap few."  She moves a little closer to the table.  As Zertin echoes her word for word, Arafarafarfa shoot daggers his way again and gives a snarl, showing teeth.

"Maybe snap yet!"

Not taking her eyes of him her head turns towards Caesius.

"Not home.  DUMB giants everywhere," her eyes narrow, still trained on Zertin, "come here look normal tall people." A quick nod of her head indicates the bartender.

Watching the bartender with polite patience, Saeko gives him an encouraging nod and then turns again to face the gathering by the fire. "Zertin is clearly neither mad nor stupid. I shall expect no further mention of it until he gives evidence for either," she states.  Matter settled, she turns back to Rogar.

Zertin frowns and squeezes his eyes closed as though he is getting a headache. After a moment he responds to Arafarafarfa.

"Ararafarafarfa, I am not sure what you are saying. What do you mean when you say giants and normal tall people? The bartender is a dwarf. I am a human. Where I come from giants are twice as tall as humans.  Are you calling me a giant or are you saying there are lots of real giants here?"

Squeezing his eyes closed, Caesius pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.  Then he opens his eyes an looks at Arafarafarfa, and at the dwarf, and a smile spreads across his face as an idea falls into place in his mind.

"Arafarafarfa... where you come from, are there any people taller than you and your kin?  Ones who aren't giants I mean."

The mangling of her name by Zertin makes her gnash her teeth, but she holds her temper enough to not attack.  For the moment.

"All here giant!  Food-maker and drink-giver normal.... Some.  All giant land here!  Think curse sent here for killing giants home.  Giants home talk not, kill and eat normal people."

She glares under her brow at everyone.

"Arafarafarfa tall home.  Kill giants with Oooh'Awww, life-friend."

"Giant here some dumb like giant home."  She squints at Zertin.  "Not ugly as home."  Now she grins at him.

Randal falls silent as Arafarafarfa threatens Zertin, the man from Surd managing just a small smile in response to Violet's reply as he watches the exchange between the two, alternatively wincing at the wizard's inadvertent indiscretions and flinching at the Halfling's belligerent rejoinders.

But Caesius's attempts at diplomacy see Randal loosing the breath he hadn't realised he was holding in, and though he all but jumps from his chair as Rugar appears at his elbow to fill his cup, he gulps gratefully at his ale, and even manages a small smile as Saeko pronounces the matter closed ... and then a belly laugh as Zertin and Qvar exchange jokes, finding the matter of neither wizardry nor returning from the dead as aught unusual.

The cook returns, the mouthwatering aromas from the bowls of stew preceding him somewhat as he offers a bowl to Arafarafarfa first, along with a platter atop which reclines a bloody cut of meat which it seems he dare not place before her cat himself ... and finally bowls for Caesius and Zertin both.

"More if ye want it," he manages as he turns away, heading back to his kitchen, pausing only to pause with obvious irritation as one of the other two patrons who have not yet offered their names, stands and pushes past him, heading towards the bar.

Back at his post, the silent Dwarf looks at Saeko's appraisingly, but finally nods, putting down his cloth on the counter and picking up the fine quill, dipping it in the ink before he begins to write, taking great  care as he pens the letters as if trying to remember how they are formed. 

The other man places his cup on the counter, nodding to Rugar as he turns to watch you, rubbing his short beard, perhaps curious as to whether the Halfling might yet make good her threat, smiling all the while, his travel-stained cloak falling open to reveal rather colourful garb beneath.

Zertin grins at Arafarafarfa.

"Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment. I don't know whether us all being brought here really is a curse or just some god's idea of a joke. I look forward to finding some answers and I welcome your company if you decide to remain with us."

He thanks the cook wholeheartedly when he delivers the bowls of stew and tucks into the meal like a man who hasn't eaten in a week, although he certainly doesn't look malnourished.

When he finishes he stands up, picks up his backpack and walks over to talk to the man who spoke up earlier.

"Greetings Randal, my name is Zertin. You spoke earlier of this being some sort of borderland. We would like to speak to whoever would be the most knowledgeable about this place and how we come to be here. Who would you suggest that we should talk to? Is there a senior cleric, wizard or bard in this area who might have some answers?"

Then he notices the bright clothing of the other man nearby.

"In a place like this, Sir, I don't suppose it would be too much of a coincidence for you to be just the man we are seeking?" he asks.

Saeko offers a nod of appreciation to Rogar as he starts writing, waiting patiently until he is done to read it.  "Thank you."  She is about to continue, but stops and turns sharply to the other man.  "Will do for what?" she asks.

"It seems my brother will be spared for now."  Qvar smiles across the table at Violet, acknowledging her preference for peace although he'd always known his brother would never let it come to come to blows.  "You look weary.  Can I help you?"

Violet considers Caesius' question.  Where....

"I'm not completely familiar with this particular area," she notes.  "I've only been here a short time.  But I've been wandering quite a bit.  This place...this...erm, world...seems to have many principalities."  It's not what they're called here, but she forgets that name.  Principalities suits her own history.  "This one is Barovia, if I don't miss my guess.  The one I came from - I'd show you the way, but those cursed mists make it hard to find - was named Nassau.  But we're pretty much just into Barovia, here."

She grimaces.  "I've just been poking around the area.  Getting a feel for it.  And..."  Her lips thin, and finally Violet nods.  "Waiting.  For others like me."

The young woman gestures toward the barbarous, tiny woman (the like of which she, herself, has never seen before).  "She's here for shelter.  Zertin's here because of Qvar.  Qvar...I guess he feels his god -" Heresy, Violet thinks, but it's automatic, not serious "- brought him here to do something.  I don't know what...Lady Saeko -" that seems safest; the woman looks Ryuan, but Violent can't tell a Shivatense from a Lanneten, and doesn't know the honorifics for either to boot "- feels on the matter.  And..."

Her gaze fixes on Caesius.  "You feel we're here for a reason as well.  So...maybe that's the way home - whatever reason."  Closing her eyes, she lets out a long, slow sigh.  "I might be trying to get home, but I'm betting I'm here for a reason as well.  And I think I know what it is, for me."  A small smile touches her lips for an instant.  "I just need to figure out the last detail."

She gives Qvar a short nod in return.  Maybe it's him I'm waiting for.  Maybe not.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:03, Tue 03 Apr 2018.

"Barovia... "  Caesius repeats the name, savouring the flavour of it.  "A strong name.  Doubtless this land is under the sway of a strong ruler, a just and honest man or woman.  One who can be trusted, and who metes out justice with an even hand.  Perhaps we are here to serve under that ruler."

Saeko glances over, but keeps her attention mostly on the brightly-dressed gentleman.  "Our host says this tavern, The Weary Horse, lies between Barovia and Nova Vaasa.  Neither name means anything to me, but it seems we are in either neutral or contested territory," she notes.  She doesn't correct Violet's choice of title, though, so that seems to have passed safely through.

Violet ducks her head, a touch embarrassed at Saeko's (implied) correction.  "He'd know better than I - I heard the name from the mumbles of a madman back in Nass...Nova Vaassa."  They're similar enough, she grants in her head.  Either the lunatic got it wrong, or she did.  Doesn't matter much either way.

Nova Vaassa.  Sounds Southern, to her; to the others, Violet has no idea.

She flicks her gaze toward Caessius.  "I don't serve particularly well," the young woman quietly admits, "so hopefully that's not it."

The man looks a little wary at Zertin's approach but snorts in amusement at the wizard's question.

"You were seeking me ?  Hah !  I was seeking you !" he says in a thick accent.

"Perhaps not you in particular," he allows, dipping his head in response to Saeko, "but for those of your kind."  He looks around the room appraising each of you in turn.

"The village of Barovia is in need of heroes." He shrugs, "You'll do as well as any."

"Here," he reaches into a pocket of his cloak, pulling out a roll of parchment. "This letter is from the Burgomaster ... for you."


OOC: See Main Game Map to view the contents of the letter ...

Ignoring the parchment for the moment, Saeko frowns.  "You were seeking?" she confirms.  "Then it was you who brought us here?  Where I come from, kidnapping is a poor way to ask for help.  I do not doubt your need, but there are those who rely upon us in our own homes as well.  What of them?"

Zertin accepts the roll of parchment and unrolls it to read it to himself first. Then he turns and carries it back to the table where the others wait. There he reads the letter to them.

"Barovia. The worms creep beneath our floors and our streets, they feast on the flesh of our dead. High in the castle, the once lord is no longer, the new lord is not yet, without form, void. All is void and vanity.

"Ireena, Ireena, Ireena! Long have I kept you at my side, long will I keep you close to my heart! Save my Ireena!

"I am the Burgomaster. The Master! Kolyan am I! Soon the worms will feast on me. Come! Do not tarry!"

He looks at the letter again silently then holds it out for whoever else wants to read it themselves.

"It seems we are invited to a feast," he finally decides. "Or a wake, I am not sure which. This Kolyan fellow must be someone important. Not the lord in the castle, obviously, but still someone important. The Burgomaster ... the head chef, perhaps? I wonder who this Ireena is? His wife? His daughter? Well all will be revealed when we get there, I am sure. I hope you are all ready to go straight away. We don't want the feast to go cold!"

Qvar chuckles "Have I been dead that long?  That 'Feast' does not sound appetising at all, Zed."  He reads the scroll for himself then places it on the table for others to pick up.  "In a place as dreary as this, when a brightly dressed person asks for aid then I feel that must be the right path."  He smiles brightly at his brother.  So I agree, we should see this burgomaster."

Zertin nods agreement to Qvar then heads back to the brightly dressed gentleman.

"My brother and I will certainly come with you. If it is not too far away I will change into more suitable clothing. I am afraid I am not familiar with the title of Burgomaster though. Is that a rank of nobility in this place, or a professional position? What would be the appropriate dress code for this occasion? What else should we know before we meet Master Kolyan? Who is this Ireena he is so concerned about? Who is, or was, the lord in the castle that his letter mentions?" he asks.

Qvar takes Zertin's abandoned bowl, with the remnant of his stew, and places it on the floor.  Gingerly he pushes it towards the big cat with his toe.  Belatedly he glances over at Arafarafarfa.  He smiles sheepishly "Mister Whiskers would pounce on me if I tried to leave the table without letting him lick the bowl."

The man shrugs.

"The Burgomaster seemed quite mad to me, yet he paid me well to seek out such as yourselves and give you his letter.  My journeys take me through those lands, but they are not my home and their troubles are not mine."

"Ireena I think is Kolyan's daughter.  As to the rest, I know not."

He snorts. "If I had the power to bring you here, I'd have no need of paltry coin !  I know not how you got here, but I am not respsonsible."

"He is Vistani," Randal speaks up, his tone scornful and accusing, though you get the feeling that he'd not dare voice this opinion if he did not feel you'd protect him should the messenger take offence at this.  "Thieves and vagabonds !"

"Ah," Zertin sighs. "I take it that you cannot advise me on what would be suitable attire for the occasion. Very well then, if he does not specify the required standard of dress then your Burgomaster will have to accept us as we are. Come then, my new friends, and you too Q, let's go see what service Master Kolyan would wish us to perform."

He slips his arms through the straps of his backpack and shrugs it into place on his back.

"Which of you gentlemen will show us the way?" he asks Randal and the Vistani messenger.

"Indeed.  If there is mischief afoot, then the honourable have no choice but to put an end to it, by whatever means prove necessary, and with all possible expediency.  Heironeous will lend His strength to the righteous, and the foes of weal will fall before His might."

Caesius bows his head, eyes blazing, and starts to murmur rapidly with his right fist clenched upon his breast...

Then he raises his head and smiles.  "How are we to find this Burgomaster and offer him our aid?"

Considering the words of the letter, Violet stares into the fire.  The flames seem appropriate, for she finally knows the truth.  The Devil is here.

It is Hell she has found.

For an instant, her hands scrabble uselessly at her belt-pouch.  But there's no point; such a thing isn't for her, cannot protect her from the Devil.  But these men...her gaze slants to them as they speak to one another.  Qvar...heretical follower of a pagan god.  And this man, Caesius; he speaks of Heironeous?  A saint, perhaps?  Or another pagan god?  What does it matter?  Either way, perhaps it is in them she must place trust, against the Devil.

And staying here, in these mists, how is it any better than Purgatory?

"I'll go," she whispers, then repeats herself more loudly.  Slowly, wearily the young woman pushes herself to her feet.  "To help."  Perhaps this is the way she'll redeem herself, Violet muses: helping another lost soul.

Clearly this Burgomaster - master of a burg?  A village?  A mayor, perhaps? - qualifies as such.

Zertin looks around at the others, obviously pleased that most have indicated they will come to meet this Burgomaster Kolyan.

He reaches under his cloak and brings out Louise the weasel again.

"How about you, Louise? Are you ready to meet Master Kolyan?" he asks her, then listens attentively as she chitters back at him. "Yes, I am sure he will have something nice for you to eat," he assures her.

With the weasel resting comfortably against his chest, supported by his left forearm, he looks around the room once more.

"What about you, Arafarafarfa? Will you and your feline friend be coming with us?" he asks.

Qvar smiles at Violet.  "To help others is the best any of us can do."

He takes his untouched cup of wine and crosses the room, stepping past the big cat at the fireplace and pausing to right the toppled stool in the corner, to stand at the table in front of Randal.  "We are all equal under the Sun." he says evenly, but glancing towards the Vistani.  He places the cup on the table and smiles at Randal.  "It may not bring you any relief, but I hope you enjoy it."

Ready to leave, Qvar moves to stand beside his brother.  He is delighted to see Louise come out again and gives her a good scratch behind her ears and under her chin "Youse a wheezy wizard's weasel, yes you are..."