Saeko gives an easy nod to the knight, but remains quiet, and returns to her duty keeping watch elsewhere to let others focus their attention on the new arrival.

"Well met, indeed.  I am Caesius, son of Horianon, son of Agresaide, son of Gamlach, of the House of Moliondes."  The paladin gives a shallow bow.  "Fortunate it is that we are here to aid you, for we are far from our homelands, and merely passing by."

"I serve Heironeous, though I know not what he is named in this place."

The knight seems pleased that Ashlyn at least has heard of him.

"Truth be told, 'twas I that hunted them.  Murks those shades are named by those wise in such matters.  And say rather that I sensed their evil, and they the strength of my vow."

"Servants of Lathander," he elects to include Qvar in that, "and Hieroneous of whom I know not.  But no gods of good are native to these fell lands, so glad I am that they led you here."

"I am unhurt, as is Hurrn here," the bird allows Qvar's hand to draw close, then hops further up the knight's shoulder, out of reach.

"Yourselves ?  Did any suffer harm in the battle ?"

"Hmm, fascinating," Zertin murmurs to himself, although perhaps not as quietly as he might have imagined.

"Who would have guessed that an overly evil demographic would generate such an abundance of paladins to fight it? Could it just be random chance? Or divine intervention, perhaps? Or are they simply attracted to it like flies to a turd? Hmm, I shall have to give this more thought."

After a moment or two of quiet reflection he realises that a question was asked and has not yet been answered.

"I believe we are all well, Sir Urik. Those murks were driven off before any physical contact could occur."

Saeko gives Zertin a curious glance as he mutters, and asks, "You believe in chance?"  Her tone is genuine piqued curiosity.

So much talk of different, heathen gods and cults ensures Violet hangs back; rather than move to where the others discuss, she keeps to her perch, peering out through the mists.  Relief courses through her; it seems that Qvar isn't the only one of the group capable of sending the shades of the un-dying into abject flight.  Perhaps there's something to this knight, Caesius, after all.

Something, in fact, to consider.

Slowly her stomach settles; with the shades driven off, the young woman finds her forehead covered in the chill sweat of reaction, unused chemicals coursing through her system.  It's all she can do to keep from shivering in the damp.  Rather than succumb, she forces herself to turn her back on the conversation below, choosing to focus her senses on their surroundings.

If the shades return...

...if they bring friends..

...she will be prepared.

Zertin favours Saeko with a smile.

"Most certainly. I have watched dice roll often enough to credit the existence of random chance. I must admit it does seem unlikely in this particular case, though."

"Chance doesn't exist, but sometimes the Gods don't tell mortals the whys and wherefores of their decisions." Caesius states, with a smile.  "Chance is simply an illusion of randomness produced by insufficient knowledge."

He turns towards the night, "Sir Urik, we are bound for Tser Pool.  Are we likely to run into more of those... what did you name them... murks?  Are they common in this region?"

Zertin looks around casually. Graveyard. Gallows.

"Just give them a minute. I'm sure they'll be right back," he comments dryly.

"Personally, I would prefer to be well on our way before they do. No doubt we will find plenty of other excitement today without waiting around for it to find us."

The knight is pleased to hear that none of you had suffered harm,  "The creatures' chill touch can weaken body and soul", he explains in the manner of one wary of such things but equal to the challenge.

"The gypsy encampment ... you should be safe from Murk's there - they linger near graveyards and crypts and places of death.  Though more like you will lose your coin, aye and even the shirts upon your backs if you would beard those thieves and vagabonds in their lair !  Be vigilant !"

Thanking you again, Sir Urik departs, taking the western fork in the path ...

Heeding Zertin's suggestion, you press on down the Northern path, leaving gallows and graveyard behind you ...

The canopy of mists and branches overhead suddenly gives way to open sky - though the sky is black with roiling storm clouds.  A circle of colourful wagons and a scattering of tents are ranged around a dancing bonfire, and a handful of men and women in colourful garb sit quietly near the wagons, eyeing your approach with suspicion and open appraisal, though they voice no greeting.

Beyond the camp a small lake reflects the angry sky above.

As Sir Urik departs, Qvar grins at Caesius and places his hand on the paladin's shoulder.  "It was you."  He notes that Violet is watching, includes her with his smile.

On the way to the pool he falls in with Zertin and is drawn into his debate with Caesius and Saeko.  "Of course there is chance, for most things.  If the gods decided every die roll then a die would dance on its edge as powers vie to decide its fate."  He chuckles at the mental image, then sobering as he continues.  "But have no doubt, our arrival here was not chance.  We choose what we try to do here, but the gods vie to steady us or topple us."

Having no coin to lose, Qvar approaches the gathering at the bonfire.  He raises a hand in greeting.  "We seek Madame Eva."

Those they meet are not the only ones with suspicions lurking in their eyes.  Violet struggles to keep her face flat, betraying nothing of her emotions.  Zinner, she considers with disgust.  Certainly their clothing seems similar, as does their hair, their wagons...for a moment, she wonders if it's possible she somehow stumbled from the streets of Chaville to the forests of Moth, and has been wandering in them all of this time and finding the truths of the children's stories of horror.

But no; this is not Gaia, this is hell.

Speaking, she leaves to Qvar; her own voice might betray her disgust.  She keeps to the fringes of the group, making no signs of a threat, but her eyes are wide and her ears open for movement.  One never knows with Zinner.  They're no most trustworthy than she, herself, used to be, and no, the irony is not lost on the young woman.

OOC - Listen 16, Spot 28.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:18, Sun 26 Apr 2020.

Zertin walks forward with Qvar, stopping just a step behind and to the left of his brother. He nods agreement with his brother's words and nods a greeting to those who turn their gaze his way.

Zertin rolled 3 using 1d20+1.  Listen check.
Zertin rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  Spot check.

The armoured woman slows her pace to stay close to Ireena, little caring for subtlety as she takes up a protective position between the young woman and the Vistani.

"Your brother warned me of these folk and their underhand ways," Ashlyn mutters to Ireena.  "Stay close."

Caesius, like Ashlyn, slows as the group approach the camp.  His eyes rove over the area, taking in details.  These folk apparently have a reputation for theft and trickery and, whether or not it is deserved, it makes the paladin cautious in his approach to them.

At least until he finds out for sure, one way or the other.

OOC: Spot=7, Listen=8.  Ooh look... a butterfly!  :\

None of you are minded to trust these Vistani, though in truth there are but few of them here, maybe half a dozen seated near the wagons.  None of offer a greeting in return as Qvar addresses them.  Indeed all of them continue to stare ...

... until one at last rises, with almost deliberate slowness and with a desultory gesture bids you follow him.

You notice a few colourful round tents pitched outside the circle of ornately decorated wagons, and it is to one of these that the man strides.  In contrast with his earlier indolence, he walks quickly, seemingly with little concern whether you keep up or not, though he does not take you far, for the largest of the tents is set not much distant to the others.

Ducking his head inside, your erstwhile guide speaks, his words muffled. You hear no response, though it is but a second before he turns back, lifting the flap and waving you inside with a derisive smile.

Within the tent, sitting on a low divan that is festooned with cushions and draped with brightly coloured material, is Madame Eva, though she is perhaps not what you expected.

The old woman before you is enormous, for a moment seeming more like an ogre or a small giant than the ancient, wrinkled human she is.  She hunches over a table that is dwarfed by her bulk, and her black eyes gleam as she shuffles a deck of weathered playing cards.  A small lantern hangs above her, bathing her with flickering light.  Her hands are bony and spotted with age.  When she speaks, her voice crackles like dry weeds.

"At last you have arrived !"

Zertin smiles when he hears Madam Eva's words.

"Greetings, Madame Eva. It is a pleasure to meet you at last. I am Zertin and with me here are Qvar, Ashlyn, Ireena, Saeko, Violet, Caesius and Randal," he introduces his companions. "We come to you seeking information and guidance, but no doubt that comes as no surprise to you."

So... Madame Eva has been expecting them.  Caesius smiles - there are three possibilities that he can see: first is a genuine gift that allowed her to foresee their coming, second is that her wors are just a bluff to make her seem powerful, and third is that she has a good spy network in the area.

Whichever it is, it makes no difference.  They have been told that she can help them, so whatever she uses, be it magic or some form of trickery, there is little they can do but talk to her.

"How may we defeat the terror that haunts the good folk of this land?"

Violet eyes the tents with definite suspicion, her mind tallying numbers against what she sees.  Her math might be basic, but it's good enough, and her grimace speaks volumes.  The young woman sidles up to the bright Lady Saeko, and speaks to the Ryuan woman in a low whisper.  "There are many more than apparent," she whispers, avoiding sibilants.

Her hands stay on the grips of her hand weapons, eschewing the bow; if an attack comes, like as not it will be close, with knives.  Though the Zinner Violet knows would never dare attacking armed and armored knights, who can say what these ones might do?  And whether they possess dark sorcery of their own?

Certainly they seem confident in their disdain.

She's the last into the tent, moving to the side of the opening and taking a few more steps, keeping at least two paces from the tent wall.  Her brown eyes remain guarded and watchful as the ancient crone speaks, and her ears strain toward the sounds without rather than the conversation within.

OOC - Violet will continue to try to hear any sounds coming from outside, focusing especially on things like, oh, large groups of people moving around. 

The necessary introductions are complete, if not completely unnecessary, so Qvar blurts out what's on his mind.  "And I seek the sunstone.  It's a platinum amulet shaped like the sun with a large golden crystal embedded in its center, and around the crystal are inscribed symbols of light and truth. It was stolen from my church in, well, a distant land."

The young woman gasps in surprise as Qvar speaks of the sunstone.

"You have described the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind that was my father's but was stolen from us !" she states, in some confusion.  "I seek that also - it is that which will protect me from the master of the castle !"

"And I would know where the legendary Sunsword might be found," Ashlyn adds her request to the list of those laid before the old crone.  "I was told that you know where it is or at least had the skill to find it with your gifts of foresight."

Violet whispers in Saeko's ear as the rest of the group address their questions to Madame Eva. 

The old woman smiles at Zertin, shrugging her shoulders.

"The cards foretold your coming," she tells the mage, smiling at him as she looks at each of you in turn, though Caesius gains her widest smile and Qvar a frown as she seemingly takes a dislike to the Priest of Pelor.

"The 'terrors that haunt this land' is it, my pet ?" she nods at the paladin's question regarding him warmly.  "And the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind and this Sunsword as well."  Perhaps it is the disfavour in which she holds Qvar that she uses the name Ireena uttered in preference to Sunstone.

"Aught else ?" she asks as she continues to shuffle the cards, her fingers almost caressing them "or shall I consult the cards and see what Fate has in store ?"

OOC: this was written after Ashlyn's post but before I read Skald's post.  I'll write something else later to respond to Skald's post about the grumpy crone... Happy Mothers Day.

"How strange?"  Qvar's puzzled gaze moves from Ireena to Madame Eva and then back to Ireena.  "Yet, perhaps not strange at all.  Two identical relics stolen in two different worlds, and the two of us questing after them.  Truely we are not here by chance.  I wonder, are all quests paired?  Perhaps Caesius should quickly lay claim to a holy sword?"  He flashes a grin at the paladin, certain that such matters should not be a topic of jest, but buoyed by the overwhelming feeling of the rightness of this strange gathering in the tent.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:33, Sun 10 May 2020.