Time: Midday
Date: 5th of Kythorn

After getting your rewards for taking down the goblin raiders, you all decided to meet again on this day for lunch at the Glamorous Spade pub. The drinks are strong and cold, and the food is delicious and hot. Recognizing your group, the owner insists on comping your meal and thanks you all for your help.

As you are finishing your meals a familiar face enters. Watch Chief Quinala, a stern-looking female elf makes a bee line for your table after spotting you.

She stops beside your table and bows her head deeply. "Greetings all. I hope this day finds you well. I ask that I may have a word with you. In private, preferably."

Raising an eyebrow and smirking, Valentino replies, "I always accommodate a lady requesting a private... discussion."

He downs the last of his wine and stands. "Oh, you want the others as well? Not really the way I do things but who am I to judge?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 05:12, Tue 15 Jan 2019.

Vargo stood as Quinala, bowing slightly to her. At Valentino's comment Vargo arches an eyebrow disapprovingly, as a touch of a grin creeps onto his face "Barbarian."

Kothar had reached over to Valentino's plate as the half-elf spoke. The lizardman grabbed the remaining chicken bones and popped them all into his mouth, a sickening combination of crunching and slurping ensued.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Tue 15 Jan 2019.

"I jest of course, I... Oi Kothar! Just ask man."

Findabair smiles at the elf woman. "Watch Chief Quinala, please have a seat. And apologies for any rudeness on the part of my companions."

The human priestess wipes some crumbs off of a spot of bench and offers it to the chief.

Chief Quinala seems to take the jokes and odd mannerisms in gracious stride.

"I would love to sit and share a meal with you all, however, not only does it look like you've all already eaten, I am here on some rather pressing matters.

"I was hoping we could discuss things in my office?"

With a nod and already on his feet, Valentino says, "Lead on then."

Without a word, Barry rises to leave, his pack already slung onto his shoulders. He smiles slightly toward Kothar, and moves his plate of bones an inch closer to the lizardman with a small nod, then turns to follow the Chief.

Barring any objections, Chief Quinala leads you to her office which is, thankfully, only a few blocks away. Any questions asked about the meeting are deferred with an polite, "I'll give you the details in private."

You all arrive at the watch headquarters; a blocky three story building facing the market district. She ushers you inside and leads you to her office; a spacious twenty foot by fifteen foot room set at the back of the building. Adorning her walls are many portraits of elves; presumably her family. Behind her desk is a wall mount with three swords. In the corner of the room is a set of decorative plate armor.

"Please, have a seat," she says motioning to the office couch and chairs. She sits on the corner of her desk.

"This situation is rather dire, so I won't waste time beating around the bush. Daggorford desperately needs your help once more. This morning I received reports of werewolves in the Misty Forest. A merchant caravan was traveling by last night when they were attacked. A lone survivor managed to escape and arrive here this morning to tell me the tale.

"None of my officers are willing to investigate, so I turn to you for help. I know this is asking a lot of you, so I met with the Duchess to see what she could do to help. She has promised if you dispatch the werewolves, she is willing to grant each of you land and title in compensation. Also, I am willing to give you these," she says as she stands and goes behind her desk.

From the wall mount she takes down one of the swords, and then picks up something off the floor, not in view.

"I give you this quiver of silvered arrows, and my own silvered sword."

Valentino sags into the couch lazily, cocking a leg over one of the arms.

At the mention of werewolves his eyebrows shoot up but he says nothing.

When she brings down the sword and mentions the silver he whistles to indicate that he is impressed by the story and offer of rewards. This is serious business.

"Werewolves are a dangerous prospect and the Countess seems to be proportionately generous in her offer of reward."

He sits up straight and glances at his companions trying to gauge their reactions.

"Has the survivor been questioned?"

He is clearly entertaining the notion of accepting this request.

"Yes. I spoke with him for a couple of hours this morning after being called in," Quinala replies. "His name is Ivan Dragovich. Claims he is from some place called Barovia. I've never heard of the land. Aside from claiming to be from this unknown region, he seems rather rather composed and level-headed."

Valentino tries to recall if he has ever heard of Barovia and asks, "Did he mention how many werewolves beset his caravan?"

"Even a single werewolf is formidable against an unprepared party. He claims there were three that attacked."

Valentino whistles again and looks to the others.

His tailing swishing back and forth, Kothar saw Valentino sit on one of the plush couches. He seemed to consider the cushions for a moment before plopping himself down on the floor. The shaman knelt there with his legs tucked under him, the tail still swishing lazily on the floor.

The mention of werewolves made him hiss softly.

“Shapeshifters defy natural law. They spit on the creator and follow the whims of the moon. I am not one for the titles of soft skins but more lands for my clutch intrigues me. I will help.”

Barry shows a hint of a grin as the rest of the group seems to be preparing to face the monsters. He expected nothing less.

"Is this Ivan still here? Did he say anything more about this Barovia?"

"Yes, he's currently waiting in the officer's lounge. He's been very...cryptic, about this so-called Barovia."

Barry glances toward the proferred weapons. "Then I would question him before we go. I assume we're going?" he asks the group at large.

What type of sword is it?

Vargo had lingered near the door, listening to the Watch Chief as she went over everything. He agreed with Barry that this Ivan may provide some more insight and should be questioned further. Looking around at the others, "If the group wishes to accept this mission I will accompany them. Though I may need some time to try and find additional equipment."

Findabair listens intently to the conversation, thinking the job sounds risky. "I'm of course willing to help. I've never faced a werewolf, and they sound dangerous, but if people are threatened, I will stand with my companions to aid them."

It is a longsword of elvish craftsmanship.

"If you wish to question the man, I have no issues with that. As I said, he has been cryptic, but not unhelpful."

Barry nods, apparently satisfied. He glances expectantly at his companions.

Anything else to ask here, or are we good to go on and question the man?

In reply to Barry Coppersmith (msg # 23):

Good to go here.

Barring any other questions, the chief leads you all to the officers' lounge. It's a spacious room, almost as big as the chief's. There are few tables with chairs with couches lined against two of the walls. Cots rest against the other two walls.

Sitting at one of the tables are two human men. One is clearly part of the city watch. The other, obviously Ivan, is dressed in festive garb dyed in vibrant red, yellow and orange tones. He is a handsome man, possibly late twenties, with short onyx-black hair. His ice blue eyes pass over each of you as you enter and a smile spreads on his face.

"Ah! These must be the heroes you spoke of," he says in a thick accent (think Hungarian-type accent).

The officer turns around and smiles as well. "Why yes, they are!"

"Lieutenant Baker and I have been speaking with Ivan this morning since he arrived. Baker, you're free to return to your duties."

"Yes, sir," Baker says with a nod. "Take care, Ivan."

Chief Quinala closes the door after Baker's departure, motions to Ivan at the table, then sits on the couch closest to the door.

Findabair takes a seat at the table with Ivan. She smiles. "So, we hear you have a werewolf problem. Please tell us all you know. We may be able to help."

Val nods along as Findabair speaks, his body language supportive.

"Oh yes! Was horrible! Brother Igor and I were out in woods hunting wolf for dinner and pelts.  We track wolves far off road. We stop in clearing when we hear wolf howl, but not wolf howl. Much worse. Can hear evil in it, yes? Igor and I grow up hearing story of werewolf. So we decide to run back to wagon, but we get lost is mists.

"As we run, we hear this large creature run with us. We hear it getting closer. Can hear it growling and barking at us. We are getting scared. It impossible to see through mists and we are scared for our lives! So I did only thing I could think of.

"I push brother Igor over."

"YOU WHAT," Chief Quinala exclaims as she stands. "You said NOTHING of that earlier?"

"No," Ivan asks as his eyes shift around. "You sure? That seem like very important detail for me to leave out."

"YES! I'm sure," Chief Quinala says, obviously dumbstruck by this sudden revelation.

Val waves placatingly at the Chief, "Don't interrupt him. What happened next Ivan?"

Vargo stood leaning against the wall in a nearby corner listening to the conversation. He couldn't place the mans accent or his clothing. Where ever this Barovia was it was somewhat different than anywhere he had visited.

As Ivan related his story of events Vargo's only reaction to Ivan's apparent sacrifice of his so called brother Igor was a slight raising of one eyebrow.

Findabair listens with interest, but something in the story seems off to her, like a joke she overheard in a pub once. She tries to determine if Ivan is telling the truth or not by studying his facial expressions and gestures.


15:16, Today: Findabair rolled 20 using 1d20+5.  Insight check.

[Private to Findabair: As odd as he and his story are, Ivan does not appear deceptive.]

"As I am saying, I pushed my brother to distract whatever chasing us. No need to worry. I am parents' favorite anyway. There's nine of us, they won't miss one. As I'm running deeper in to mists, is harder to see.

"Mists finally thin and I think I'm free. Then I realize I'm no longer in Svalich woods. I stumble around trying to find way. I see fire ahead and think is campsite. I find merchants willing to help. As I'm telling them story, I hear howl again. Then, from woods, werewolf attack!

"I grab old lady and shove her to the creature and take off running! And now here I am," he says with a rather pleased with himself smile.

"So how many werewolves did you see?"

"One, for sure. I mean, is not like I stayed to count."

Val nods, "What did it look like?"

"It...it look like werewolf," Ivan says, obviously confused.

"Big. Hairy. Fangs. Claws."

"So a bear?"

"What? No! Ivan know what bear look like," he exclaims, seemingly insulted. "Werewolf big as bear, yes, but not have bear head. Werewolf have wolf head!"

"So like an owlbear but with a wolf head?"

"Owlbear!? Now you just making things up!"

"Making things up? I think that's you my friend." he replies with a grin.

"Then have balls to call me a liar to my face," Ivan says with indignation.

He then turns his attention to the chief. "Are we done here? Can I go now?"

"If they're done, they can go," Quinala responds. "You, however, now have some crimes to answer for."

Ivan looks shocked and starts stuttering.

When Ivan calls Val out he will reply with a shrug, "Liar."

"Not quite yet," Barry replies to the chief. He turns to the Outlander. "You said you come from Barovia? Tell us more. Where is it? Who is your leader?"

Ivan begins speaking in a language completely alien to you all, then spits on the floor at Valentino's feet before sitting and crossing his arms.

Findabair stands and puts a hand on Valentino's shoulder. "His tale is strange, I grant you. But I do not think he is lying consciously. The truth may be different from what he reports, but he is sincere."


To Ivan, she smiles. "I apologize for my companion. Your tale is strange, and the land of... Barovina?...is unknown to us. And apparently a common beast like the owlbear is unknown to you. I think we will do better if we listen carefully to each other rather than trying to accuse one another of telling tall tales."



23:14, Today: Findabair rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  Persuasion check.

Val relaxes his shoulders and nods, "Wise as ever Findabair."

He looks to Ivan and gives a weak smile, "I apologize."

"Some apology," Ivan says as he rolls his eyes. He mulls things over for a moment then relaxes as he resigns himself to a course of action.

"Barovia is name of land that is valley between the mountains Baratok and Ghakis. Barovia is also name of village found in Barovia. Can be quite confusing at times. Our leader is Count Strahd. He was once a great man who now is lost to his own dispair."

Edit to add: The names of these locations are completely unknown to everyone.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:27, Wed 20 Feb 2019.

"I have never heard of any of these places," Val turns to the others, "have any of you?"

"No," Barry replies. He asks a few more questions attempting to gain an understanding at least of the general direction.

Once everyone seems to have their questions satisfied, Barry addresses the group. "Well, we should leave this man to... rest." He glances at the agitated chief.

Once the group is on its way, Barry examines the given longsword with curiosity.

Any chance the sword has the finesse property? Otherwise, I won't be able to make very good use of it. Anyone else want it?"

In reply to Barry Coppersmith (msg # 50):

Sorry, no. Just a standard longsword that's been silvered.

"Yes, we should go. A title and land is as good a reason as any. I fancy that we can take down a werewolf or two, the silver sword and arrows will certainly help."

---

Finesse would work better for me too with my 10 Strength, probably a pass on the silver sword for Val unless no-one else has a use for it.

"I'm intrigued by this talk of a mystery land, but for now, you all are correct. Let's deal with the werewolf threat first, and investigate the tall tale, if it is a tall tale, more later."

OOC: Definitely no longswords for me. I have a shillelagh for melee.

Vargo had let the others question the man and decide a course of action. Being a foreigner to this land the name Barovia had meant nothing to him.

"A hunt for werewolves then. Sounds both interesting and terrifying."

Findabbair gets up and grabs her pack from the corner where she dropped it. "Let's head out to where the attack happened. Maybe the werewolves lair somewhere nearby."

Val grabs his things and nods to the chief before looking to Findabair, "I'll follow your lead then."

Leaving Quinala to deal with Ivan, you all grab the silvered weapons and your own gear before heading out to the site of the attack.

The sun shines bright in the clear sky. Birds circle high above, ever looking for prey. There is a rustling in some nearby bushes before a rabbit jumps out and scampers away. After a couple of hours the site of the attack comes in to view.

The merchant wagon leans to one side as those wheels lay scattered in pieces. Still tied to the cart is a dead horse with long, deep gashes in its chest and neck. Broken merchandise is littered around several dead bodies, all bearing wounds similar to the horse.

"Oooh, nasty," Val comments as the party comes across the scene.

He moves to one of the nearer bodies and inspects the wounds, trying to decide if they are consistent with Ivan's story.

---

16:00, Today: Valentino Lo'Stronzo rolled 17 using 1d20+1.  Investigation: Wounds.

Oh, I forgot to add: If no one can make proper use of the longsword, then make it a shortsword.

Vargo moves through the area counting the dead. By the look of things it is doubtful but Vargo looks for any signs of survivors or anything which may provide some clue as to where Barovia is. He secretly wonders if it was just a fabrication made up by Ivan.

[Private to GM: Vargo is also using the opportunity to search the wagon and area for valuables.]

Vargo sifts through the remains of the cargo and finds the odd in tact piece of merchandise, though nothing really worth much alone.

[Secret to Valentino Lo'Stronzo: The wounds are consistent with claw marks. The depth and length of the wounds, as well as the distance between tears, do indicate the creature must be rather large.]

"Definitely a large best clawed these folk up, not a manmade weapon. I think Ivan told the truth, be on your guard."

Val stands and readies his shield, casting his eyes about the surrounding trees, some of his braggadocio slipping away.

Findabair looks at the bodies, but she can't tell any more than what the rest of the party can see with their own eyes. She looks to Valentino. "Do you think the werewolves, or whatever they were, are still right nearby? It's been some time since the attack now. Their lair is hopefully in the area, but I wouldn't expect them to be waiting to attack us."

OOC: forgot to put in the label, this is an Investigate check
19:51, Today: Findabair rolled 6 using 1d20.

"It depends on how often they hunt. If they are around I would like to be ready."

The bard looks about for tracks but seems unable to identify anything useful, perhaps not seeing the forest for the trees.

---

That's a 3 survival on a nat 1. No copy paste from my phone sadly.

[For the new players, the TLDR so far is it's been a couple of days since you took down the goblin raiders. You were enjoying some lunch together when you were visited by the city watch captain who asked to speak with you all in private. She tells you that there was a report of a werewolf attack in the Misty Forest. You interviewed the one survivor who told you he comes from a land called Barovia, a place you've never heard of, yet the man didn't seem to being lying. Regardless of whether the man is lying or not, you've all agreed to investigate the werewolf attack and are now here at the site of the attack.

The chief gave your group a silvered longsword and a quiver of silvered arrows (20) as help and down payment. If no one can make proper use of the longsword, I said it would be okay to change it to a shortsword. I'll let you all sort that out.]


Initial investigations and searches turn up nothing that would be out of the ordinary for this extraordinary attack. There is an obvious trail of blood and trampled land leading further in to the forest.

Anna said to the group, "I can turn one weapon to silver for an hour at a time, in addition to the weapons we were given.  It's better for someone more skilled in fighting than I am."

Nessa stood by wagons, casting a lazy eye around the scene, but she was no tracker. "If we had a few hours to rest and meditate, I could bond with the longsword and swing it well. But we are pressed for time, so I must rely on my trident," she spoke in a low voice to Anna. She pointed to the wicked looking trident at her back, points barbed. "When we find the beast, your magic would be most useful."

"It Takes a bit to make the effect work. It's probably best to do it before we run into the creature," She said as she prepared the treatment for the trident.  She gingerly applied it to the spear head, being careful around the vicious looking barbs.  Slowly the head of the weapon took on a brighter sheen as it changed to silver.

ooc: unless you indicate for her not to.

Val moves to the obvious trail of blood and peers into the dark forest nervously.

[Private to group Sylvan: "This is fine, we'll be fine..."] he mutters to himself.

Findabair nods at Valentino. [Language unknown: "A vorat pa p le olwhnast, mise, p sewa e menek. Plave yintedtra."]

To the group, "I think there's nothing more for us to learn here. Let's try to track these beasts."

Nessa watched Anna apply her magic to the trident and then nodded. "Thank you. I'll make sure the spell is not wasted."

She sheathed her trident and then took out her steel shield in her left arm. She nodded into the forest, her face grim. "Aye, let's jeep moving," Nessa agreed with the Cleric.

Vargo lingers near the wagon. He had heard tales of werewolves but this would be the first time he had ever been this close to such creature. He was more than a little nervous to say the least.

Joining the other at the spot where the trail lead deeper into the woods. "Time to see what our futures hold. Anyone have any skill at tracking?"

Anna's heart raced.  She'd never seen werewolves before.  She was torn between fear and anticipation.  Reason stepped in and reminded her that she was squishy, and probably on the werewolves menu.  She cast mage armor on herself, and followed her companions.

"I have no particular skill with tracking but I've always been good at... everything."

Despite his evident misgivings he manages to waggles his eyebrows suggestively at the ladies in an attempt at levity.

---

07:33, Today: Valentino Lo'Stronzo rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Survival: Tracking if needed.
07:44, Today: Valentino Lo'Stronzo rolled 3 using 1d20+2.  Survival: Advantage Roll from Nessa if needed.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:44, Mon 08 Apr 2019.

Nessa rolled her eyes at the Bard. "Yes, perhaps you can seduce the werewolf once we find it," she said with a slight smile. She knelt down next to the tracks, pointing out a few places that could be potential tracks. She herself was no tracker, but she had a keen eye.

Help Action- Helping Valentino track the tracks

"That is an image I don't need in my head, Nessa." The cleric tries to send a prudish look at the warlock, but instead breaks into a giggle. "The fur!"

After a few seconds more of laughter, Findabair gets a hold of herself and readies her club and her large kite shield. She's set to follow Valentino as he tracks the beasts.

"Hey I'll have you know the ladies love the fur... Wait, you were talking about the werewolf weren't you?"
He sticks out his tongue then returns to concentrating on the tracks.

Anna mused softly, "I wonder if werewolves have a mating season like wolves, or mate year round like humans.  If they have a mating season, I don't think seduction would prove to be a practical strategy."

As you all follow the trail further in to the forest, the mists grow thicker. At first, no one pays attention since the place is called Misty Forests for a reason. After a while, though, the mists grow so dense that the sun becomes nothing more than a hazy splotch in the sky. Between the haze and the foliage, so little light comes through that it almost seems like night is enveloping the sky. The air begins to grow colder and somehow sinister. Eventually, the mist is so thick, you can't see further than five feet ahead.

"This is ridiculous, I can't see a thing," Val whispers to the person next to him who he sincerely hopes is not a werewolf.

---

Have the tracks been lost?

In reply to Valentino Lo'Stronzo (msg # 81):

At this point, yeah.

Vargo was not at all pleased with this turn of events, watching the surrounding mist for any sign of movement "Should we stop? Maybe start a fire and be ready to defend. At least until this damn mist thins." Though he had whispered, to Vargo his the words sounded horribly loud.

Nessa glanced around the thick mists, eyebrow raised. Reminded her of the mists off the coasts of Algarond, but even they were not so impenetrable.

"Perhaps a fire will help. We should tighten up formation. Stand shoulder to shoulder with the people next to you. Don't wander, no matter what you think you hear. Fog can play tricks on the ear,"she warned in her usual low voice, and flexed her empty hand, her other arm raising her shield.

"We would lose each other gathering wood for a fire in this. We should stick together true, but this trail must lead somewhere, maybe to some sort of shelter."

The words come through a mildly chattering jaw giving the illusion of a stutter.

Anna drew in close to her companions for the protection of numbers.  She clutched a dagger in one hand, and her flat crystal focus in the other.  Next to these seasoned adventurers, she surely looked ridiculous.  Fortunately the fog hid her.  The fog itself troubled her.  It seemed sinister in some way, which isn't common for condensation, but she couldn't put her finger on what specifically was troubling.

Caught up in the excitement, she nearly forgot Lithuion was flying nearby.  She reached out with her mind to her familliar,

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
"You're good in the dark.  Can you get any information through this fog?  Are there enemies near?"

---

09:17, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 9 using 1d20+5.  nature.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Sat 13 Apr 2019.

Just when it seems the oppressive fog would consume the lot of you, it begins to fade and recede. You now find yourselves among towering trees whose tops are lost in the gray mist. The forest has the silence of a forgotten grave while simultaneously exuding the feeling of an unvoiced scream.

About thirty feet ahead, you all can see a dirt road. The mists prevail to the right of you, but the way looks clear to the left.

The scent of death soon catches your attention, and the source isn't hard to miss. Halfway between where you stand and the road is the crumpled body of a dead human.

"Oh dear, another victim no doubt."

Val moves to inspect the body, kneeling down beside it.

The body appears to be that of a young human male. By his clothing, he appears to have been a commoner. His muddy clothes are raked and torn with claw marks, much like the bodies outside the Misty Forest. Crows have been at the body, which is surrounded by paw prints. The man has obviously been dead for several days. [Secret to Valentino Lo'Stronzo: In one hand, he holds a crumpled envelope.]

"The claw marks match but it looks like he's been here a while though, the crows have been at him."

He wrinkles his nose and takes the envelope from the corpses hand, handing up to whoever was nearby while he looks through his pockets.

There is nothing in the deceased man's pockets other than some loose coin [Secret to Valentino Lo'Stronzo: [4cp, 2sp]]. Looking at the coins, you see symbols unlike any you've seen before. On one side is the relief of a man with sharp, angular features and a stern visage. The other side is a raven sitting on a shield.

"Huh, never saw any coins like these before."

He places two copper pieces over the corpses eyes then hands the remaining coins out to the others to inspect as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:09, Tue 16 Apr 2019.

"Whatever killed him didn't want to eat him, they left him to the crows. That, to me, suggests a monster of some sort. Werewolves are just as good a guess as any for this sort of attack...I've never seen a coin like this. I wonder what nation it's from."

Do some of the coins appear recently minted, or are they all old?

Anna sheathed her dagger when it was obvious that this body had been here a while, and the killers were likely gone.  She nodded in agreement with Findabair as she examined one of the coins.  She wasn't sure where they were from, but she didn't know of a raven crest like that from anywhere nearby, and the face was unknown as well.  "I don't think these are local.  He could be a traveler from far away."

15:53, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 12 using 1d20+5.  history.

"The beast, probably. Probably not animals. Left the corpse. It wasn't brigands. Left the coin," Nessa chimed in, looking impassively down at the slashed corpse. She also didn't recognize the coin nor the face on it. But the world was a big place.

While the others examined the corpse and coin, she cast her eyes and ears around her, taking in her surroundings. The mists may have cleared, but she needed to know where they had wandered to, and whether any monster had followed along.

19:27, Today: Nessa Rhone rolled 15 using 1d20+3. Perception

Fin, the coins most certainly appear old. While all the images on the coins can still be seen, the edges have been worn soft.

Anna, you have no historical knowledge of who the man could be, nor what the raven on a shield represents.

Nessa, this place looks nothing like the Misty Forests that you know of, nor do you perceive any creatures nearby.

Placing a hand against the bole of one of the large trees Vargo looked around critically at the groups new surroundings. "I wonder where we have ended up. This forest feels far older than the Misty Forest." Looking over to the group all of which were more magically inclined than himself "Anyone got any idea on how we got here?"

"We did not travel far, yet this place is different," Nessa agreed with Vargo, eyes narrowing. If this sudden shift in location bothered her, she didn't show it. She let out a huff and shrugged her shoulders. Fell magic ran through her, but she did not know a thing about it.

"We entered the mist in the Misty Forest, and came out of the mists here... Wherever here is. The werewolf clearly did the same. Anna, do you know of magic that can do such a thing?" she asked the young wizard, black eyes turned to her.

She took the envelope Valentino had found on the corpse and tore it open not too gracefully, reaching in to see if any clues could be provided on their current... Situation.

Anna thought on it for a moment before responding, "there are surely spells, but to send a whole party would take a great deal of power.  There is another possibility.  There are parallel material planes, like the Shadowfell, and the Feywild, that are distorted reflections of our own.  The barriers between such worlds, and ours can be thin in places, perhaps thin enough to allow us to  cross over.  It's just a thought though at this point, without further investigation."

In the envelope is a letter, which reads:

Hail thee of might and valor,

I, the Burgomaster of Barovia, send you honor - with despair.

My adopted daughter, the fair Ireena Kolyana, has been these past night bitten by a vampyr. for over four hundred years, this creature has drained the life blood of my people. Now, my dear Ireena languishes and dies from an unholy wound caused by this vile beast. He has become to powerful to conquer.

So I say to you, give us up for dead and encircle this land with the symbols of good. Let holy men call upon their power that the devil may be contained within the walls of weeping Barovia. Leave our sorrows to our graves, and save the world from this evil fate of ours.

There is much wealth entrapped in this community. Return for your reward after we are all departed for a better life.

Kolyan Indirovich
Burgomaster.

Anna, gain Inspiration for that brilliant deduction.

Nessa read the letter out loud, eyebrow quirked as she tried to make sense of it. When she was finished, she looked around the group, black eyes narrowed. "First werewolves and now vampires. A long way from a few scrawny goblins," she said dryly, rereading the letter again.

"This passage about containing the evil within the walls of Barovia... Does not sit well," she mused, glancing back at the mist. "Anna, you said that there are barriers between the planes, but that we can pass through certain points. Do these passages go both ways?"

"Barovia? Isn't that where Ivan said he was from?"

He looks down at the mangled body.

"Do you think this could be his brother?"

In reply to Nessa Rhone (msg # 101):

Anna hesitated before speaking, "It's possible," she said almost in the tone of a question, "I mean to say, that there's so much we don't know about our situation that I can't be certain.  Just in case though" she gathered some stones from the side of the road and set them in a pattern as a marker.  Then she took out a paper and pen and scratched out some notes.  "It's hard to say how far down the road we walked after our crossing, but we have a general direction.  This is assuming the barrier didn't reassert itself."  She shrugged, "that's all I have at the moment."

Vargo had heard of such places as Anna mention. The thought of having crossed into another parallel plane was something he didn't want to dwell on. "We should get moving, unless you think there is more you can learn from the corpse. The road must lead somewhere."

"It could be his brother. Remember his face. We can describe the dead upon our return... If we return," she added with a grim wink to Valentino.

Nessa nodded and raised her shield. "Agreed, let's keep moving. Best not to linger in these unnatural mists" she whispered, eyes fixed forward. Without waiting, she marched ahead, determined to slay their prey.

No one has given me anything specific, so I'm going to assume you guys are following the trail away from the mist. If I'm wrong, please correct me.

Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the muddy trail. The giant trees loom on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mist. The fog spills out of the forest to swallow up the road behind you. After about an hour's walk, you see some kind of gate blocking the road. High stone buttresses extend in to the wood, preventing anyone from simply riding around the blockade. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework. Dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two headless statues of armed guardians flank the gate, their heads now lying among the weeds at their feet. They greet you with only silence.

You all experience an overbearing sensation of being watched.

A little warmed from the walk, Val peers around when he feels like he is being watched, somewhat unsettled.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

---

16:29, Today: Valentino Lo'Stronzo rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  Perception.

Val's question is greeted by utter silence.

Nessa stopped when the gates appeared, feeling some unseen presence around them. But there was no other direction that forward. "Perhaps we should knock?" Nessa said dryly and took a step forward, also keeping an eye out for any unseen watchers. With every step forward, she would wait for any attack, and if none came, she would take another step forward, until she was at the gate itself, pushing it open.

Nessa Rhone rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

Lithuion scouted in a wide circle overhead alerting Anna of any apparent danger.  Anna herself readied a chill touch spell if they were attacked, and waited while Nessa approached the gate.  She would have kept up the minor alchemy on Nessa's trident.

Once Nessa is about ten feet from the gates, they slowly swing open with a long, low tone of metal grating on metal.

Nessa hesitates when the gates swing open on their own. Like a trap, almost. She holds up a hand to her companions, shield raised. With her free hand, she weaves her fingers through the air, mouthing an incantation under her breath. A moment later, an illusionary, silent replica of herself appears. It starts to move forward, and with another incantation, the soft thudding sound of footsteps on the ground follow the illusion.

She sends the illusion through the gates, and if nothing happens, marches through herself.

Use Misty Vision to cast Silent Image of herself (Concentration)
Cast Minor Illusion for sound (1 minute)

Vargo eyed the gates as they swung open. Every instinct he had had been screaming trap since the moment they exited the mist and this only made things worse. "Well that's a very ominous sign."

Findabair repressed a shiver as best she could. "I don't like it either. This place is odd. Let's see what happens here," she says, pointing to Nessa's double walking through the gates.

Suppressing a feeling of dread, Valentino watches the illusory double, subconsciously holding his breath.

Anna was more curious than frightened by the gate swinging open.  Was it a mechanical device? It could be an unseen servant spell, but that would mean there was someone nearby.  "Check for trip wires.  I think it's probably a mechanical device,"  she said to the group while checking the ground near herself.

14:42, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 17 using 1d20+5.  investigate.

[Private to GM: Telepathically to her familliar Lithuion, she said, "are there people nearby?  if so in what direction?"

I rolled the checks if that's ok
14:51, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 5 using 1d20+3.  familiar perception. advantage

14:51, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  familiar perception.
]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:05, Mon 29 Apr 2019.

As the illusory double walks through the gates...

...

...nothing happens.

[Private to Anna Mithwen: Lithuion doesn't see anything it recognizes as people, but it does spot something it knows as homes some distance off to the west.]

Nessa nods and walks through the gate, shield raised and eyes open for danger.

21:08, Today: Nessa Rhone rolled 4 using 1d20+3

Findabair follows close behind Nessa, her club in her right hand, shield in her left.

She looks around for any threats.


18:53, Today: Findabair rolled 9 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

Val shrugs and follows after the two others, shield ready but not raised, now confident it was all in his imagination.

"This is a strange place," he says to no one in particular.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Sun 05 May 2019.

Anna followed close behind Findabair wanting to stay close to the better armored people.

Vargo crept along close behind the others warily eying their surroundings. "Strange is not quite the word I would use. Feels more like a haunted or cursed place."

Ever vigilant, you all walk through the gates. Nothing happens until you all are through, and then all that happens is the gates close back. You travel down the muddy trail for some time until you finally emerge from the dense, dark woods. The countryside sprawls before you. To your right, the woods haphazardly curve out then back in. Some ways ahead along the trail you spot what appears to be a village. To your left, the woods circle even farther out, and you can hear the faint echoes of a river.

Anna said, "we'll probably get better information from the villagers than from just snooping about."

"That is a good idea, hopefully they have somewhere we can grab a hot meal."

Glad to be out of the woods and with the welcoming sight of the village ahead Vargo's spirits raised somewhat. "Yes a hot meal and a stiff drink would be great indeed."

Nessa nodded. "Maybe the villagers can tell us where we've wandered to," she added.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go." Findabair starts down the path towards the village below.

Anna went along she kept an eye out for any houses with lights on.  If she saw house that looked like they would welcome strangers, she would approach the house and knock.

Putting away his weaponry, Val follows Findabair's lead towards the village.

As they get closer he pulls out his lute and begins to play a light tune that somehow begins to sound somewhat discordant in the oppressive air of this place.
[Private to GM: 14:57, Today: Valentino Lo'Stronzo rolled 9 using 1d20+5. Performance: Lute.]

Nessa walked at the front of the group, keeping a wary eye on the village. She didn't trust this place, not after the mists and the sinister gate. Something felt off.

As you travel to the village, you all can't help but take note of the omnipresent silence that seems to impose itself upon you. The silence is broken only by the occasional baleful howl of a wolf, or the occasional cawing of ravens.

Eventually the muddy road gives way to slick cobblestones as you near the village. Even here, the silence continue. No sounds of smiths hammering at anvils. No sounds of news criers. No sounds of buskers playing for coin. No melded din of hundreds of conversations. In fact, there isn't a single person walking around that you've seen as of yet.

Map of the village added. You all can be up to the first crossroads from the east side.

Anna shrugged at the emptiness of the village.  Had the village had been abandon for very long?  She looked around for visual signs of recent habitation.  "Perhaps the townsfolk are at some village wide function?" she eventually wondered aloud, "Maybe we should look for a temple, or town hall."

12:28, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 19 using 1d20+5.  investigation.

"That could be," his stomach rumbles, "after that, an inn would be great."

Vargo stood in the crossroad taking time to watch down each lane, "Sounds like a good a plan as any. Though I've seen crypts that were more inviting than this place."

20:59, Today: Vargo Kell rolled 12 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

"And I've seen corpse pits that were livelier," Nessa said to Vargo. She let her shield drop just a little, ready to raise it at the first sign of danger. The buildings looked different than the last village they had been in. She was no expert in local architecture, but surely they should not be so different.

Where the Hells were they?

13:03, Today: Nessa Rhone rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

Findabair looks at the rooftops of the buildings to see if there are any with smoke coming from their chimneys. "Maybe everyone's afraid of us."

Unfortunately, she's overcome by a series of sneezes that prevent her from detecting any smoke or other signs of life.

21:13, Today: Findabair rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

As you all look about the town, you do spot some signs of life; namely citizens slamming covers over windows once they make brief eye contact with you. You see a woman with two kids turn away and head back down the road from which she came.

Anna is able to make out a church steeple in the northwest part of town.

You hear a faint voice coming from down the road to the north. You see an old lady pushing some kind of cart. Perhaps a merchant of some sorts. Another moment later you hear her calling out something called a dream pie.

"Ooooh pie! Should we get some? Maybe the vendor can tell us where we are."

Findabair shoots a glance at Valentino to behave himself. But she agrees with his suggestion. She approaches the old woman, and says, "Madam, we are travelers who seem to have gotten lost. Could you tell us where we have found ourselves? Does this village have a name?"

Anna was surprised when the people hid themselves.  "I thought we were an affable enough party," she mused,  "I wonder what has the locals so nervous."

23:32, Today: Anna Mithwen rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  insight on the villagers. Natural 20!

"Bard. Seduce the old lady so that she will tell us everything she knows" Nessa said to Valentino with a half-smile. "Or I can scare some answers out of her. Your choice."

Valentino looks shocked at the hexblade's suggestion.

"Me? Seduce that... woman? I'll have you know my heart belongs to someone else, thank you very much."

He looks over to the vendor appraisingly, "It wouldn't do to alienate the populace further by terrifying an elderly lady in the street though. They might think we are the werewolves after all."

He rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"We could ask her nicely of course. Though Vargo might want to try his hand at seduction. You seem skilled enough Vargo, what say you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:58, Fri 31 May 2019.

As Findabair (and I'm assuming only Findabair since no one said otherwise) approaches the woman, she stops the cart and unwinds from her hunched over position. He pulls back her shawl, spilling wine-red hair that frames a beautiful face despite her apparent age. She smiles welcomingly.

"Greetings, travelers," she says. Her voice is soft in volume, yet matriarchal in tone. "Let me be the first to welcome you to Barovia, the name of not only this village, but these lands as well. I feel mine will be the only welcome you ever receive. Barovians aren't known for their...hospitality. Barovia doesn't get many visitors, and those that do come, never stay long."

"well, I'm not familiar with a Barovia region anywhere near the Sword Coast, which does nothing to dispute the parallel plane hypothesis," Anna jotted some notes as she spoke.  She then addressed vendor, "you said that visitors don't stay long.  Does that mean there is an accessible portal from this land nearby?"

"Portal," she asks quizzically. "No. I know of no portals in these lands."

Nessa puts a hand on Anna's shoulder and gave her a small smile. "Too cerebral, my dear," she whispered. "Let's start simpler."

She walked to the village woman and nodded once, curtly. "Well met. We are a bit lost. You mentioned that visitors do not stay long. Do you know the way out? We would like to return to our own lands."

The werewolf no longer concerned her. This place felt... Off, and the sooner they were back in their own land, the better.

Findabair's eyebrows bunch as she thinks. "So this is Barovia. Do you know a man named Ivan Dragovich?"

"If you wish to leave, simply take Svalich Road out. It is the main road of these lands, it stretches from one side of Barovia to the other. Surely you all must have traveled it to get here.

"Ivan Dragovich, you say? That name IS familiar, sadly, it is not a unique name around here. Perhaps if you describe his appearance?"

Findabair describes the Ivan Dragovich that the party met. "He was young, but a few years older than I am. He had a handsome face with bright blue eyes, dark hair cut short, and wore brightly colored clothes. He was hunting wolves with his brother Igor, he claimed, when he somehow found his way to our lands. He claimed Barovia was his home."

Val makes a face as he hears Findabair's description of Ivan, but says nothing.

Nessa raised an eyebrow at the villager but said nothing else. Just walk out? Past the self-opening gate and through the teleportation-mist? Could it be that easy?

Vargo stayed quiet and let Findabair speak to the old woman. He still could not describe what it was about the town that set him on edge, but he was not liking it.

Anna pulled out her notes from the meeting with Ivan, and frantically flipped through the pages.  Her cheeks grew red with embarrassment at forgetting that Ivan had said he was from Barovia.