With your purpose affirmed, you do not linger long in Barovia.  Indeed, with Ireena in your company, you do not seek out the services of the Vistani who remain in the village trusting to the young woman to lead you to the gypsy encampment where Madam Eva may be found.

The path plies its way through the mists in more or less an arrow-straight line, leading you to a bridge of ancient stone above the turgid Ivlis River, then twists and turns, affording infrequent glimpses of towering trees to the south where you hear the occasional howl of a wolf or somesuch beast.

Despite the forbidding surroundings, your spirits are buoyed by the aura that surrounds the priest of Pelor, though Caesius nevertheless maintains a vigil, ever alert for the taint of evil, as the conversation turns to the vow of poverty that Qvar has taken, Zertin exhorting Violet to work around its strictures as the young woman details her horrific encounter with a man-wolf. 

Though the mage does not hear all the gruesome details, Ireena does and the young woman pales as she listens, all but gasping with relief as you near a fork in the road ahead ...

An old wooden gallows creaks in a sudden chill wind blowing down from the high ground to the west.  A frayed length of rope dances from its beam. The well worn road splits here, and a signpost opposite the gallows points off in three directions: "Barovia" to the east, back the way you came, "Tser Pool" to the north and "Castle Ravenloft" to the west.

Across from the gallows, a low wall, crumbling in places, partially encloses a small plot of graves - presumably the final resting place of those who died at the end of that rope.

Violet has been considering the sorcerer's offer for the entirety of their journey to this place.  It has not, however, kept her from her watchful task; she knows these misty lands hold horrid demons.

Worse, though, is the difficult decision she now faces.

To fulfill her task, she potentially needs to put the holy relic in the hands of one of Satan's pawns: a sorcerer.  Worse, a sorcerer who revels in his power, who strikes down his enemies with blasphemous magicks.  The conundrum spins about in her thoughts, chasing its own tail endlessly, and her stomach rolls in nauseated response.  Is this the test?  The true test?  And what answer is correct?

But this is Hell; perhaps all choices lead to failure.

At sight of the gallows, she grimace, dragged back to the reality of Hell itself.  Her eyes dart left and right, searching for any of the Un-Dying who stagger through this land.   And she sidles up to Qvar, not meeting his gaze.  "Is it true?  Does your brother carry holy water for you?  How is it blessed?"

Perhaps there is a clue in this to help her navigate the convoluted maze of her indecision.

Zertin glances around at the scene around the gallows and he sniffs in distaste.

"Let us not linger here," he recommends.

"Which way? Not to the castle, I think, so to Tser Pool?" he asks Ireena.

Saeko walks quietly, matching Caesius in keeping a watchful eye to the other side of the road, though she does listen to her new friends' conversation.  She gives Violet a thoughtful look at the end, wondering what the remarkable young woman is thinking.

Reaching the crossroad, she leaves directional decisions to others, keeping her own eyes on the small graveyard.  She doubts a patch like this has been consecrated, and the graves look entirely too shallow for her liking - even at home, she'd have been wary, but in this place?

Caesius ignores the gallows, for they are a common enough site.  The majority of his attention is focussed on the graves - hardly surprising, considering the threats the group have encountered in this dark land.

At Zertin's question, he turns to look at the sign post.  "If that is our goal, then best we get there quickly.  This whole land carries the stench of evil." the paladin growls, irritably.

Qvar listens to Violet's tale thoughtfully, sympathising with the young woman for her ordeal.  He returns her frank gaze with his own, understanding but pondering his response quietly as Zertin discusses options and the the group walks on.

Reaching the crossroads, her question brings him out of his reverie.  "Yes, I have been known to lean on my brother from time to time."  He flashes a grin at Zed, then explains to Violet.  "Zed is wealthy enough to buy blessed water from priests who trade in such.  I would never presume that he take responsibility for my expenses, but his generosity does sit comfortably with my vow of poverty."  He quirks a wry smile.  "It would be altogether different if I were to borrow any of Zed's magical items and use them.  The same would be true of the gift you offered me ... in using it I would break my vow.  Whilst I am acutely aware of the holy power radiating from your pouch, and take great comfort in its presence, I may not channel that power."  He smiles ruefully.

'Salvation', he ponders, and 'rightful ordained holder'.  "Have no doubt, Violet, that we are here at the will of the gods.   You are chosen by a divine power for this task.  Divine powers, however, rarely tell us exactly what it is we are required to do.  That much we decide for ourselves.  Have you considered that perhaps your path to salvation and the rightful holder of a diving man's gift are one and the same, and it is simply the ordination that has not yet come to pass."  He looks at her speculatively and smiles.  "The paths we take to vocation are many and varied.  I would be happy to offer my prayers with your own should you feel called." 

"That's a pity," Zertin responds. "I thought I might have found a loophole there, but I should have known the gods would have that one covered already."

He shrugs apologetically at Violet.

As you draw near the crossroads, Caesius and Saeko maintaining their vigil while those to the rear discuss the finer points of Qvar's vow, a sudden shout draws everyone's attention.

Looking to the source, you see an armoured man charging towards the graveyard from the north, drawing a gleaming silver sword as he runs.  A jet-black raven flies at his shoulder.  The man has long, black hair and a neatly trimmed beard.  He wears full plate armour and carries a shield and longsword.  An amulet shaped likes a raven's head hangs around his neck.

Then all around you see shapes appear, dark smears of air, like shadows cast by clouds.  Three of them encircle the armoured figure, as they resolve into the wavering silhouettes of humanoid figures, roughly the size and shape of a man but with the merest suggestion of eyes ...

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Violet's hope crumble like rotted masonry at Qvar's revelation; somehow she keeps this from her visage, nodding along with his words.  It makes sense; trickery and word-games with oaths, in the stories, lead to naught but a most poor ending.  Curses, it seems, as well as the given word, are wiser than people might think.

The bright priest's next words bring a tremulous smile to her lips.  "I...worship no god, and know of none beyond the Father of Abel Christ," she replies, wary of offending.  "I fear I have never heard of your...Pelor?" Violet dimly recalls, hoping she has spoken correctly.  "Though Pelor's gifts cannot be contested."  It would be foolishness to say otherwise despite her upbringing; the pagan priest's powers are clear, and equally clearly do they come from the light.  She wonders what Father DuVallier would say of such; likely, he would claim Qvar worships at the feet of God, all-unknowing, or one of his angels, like Mikail or Gabriel.

But Violet feels a faint suspicion toward this simplistic reasoning.

"I might --" she begins, then a shout grasps her attention, dragging it to where an armored man's rush presages a beginning battle against blackened beings.  Un-dying?  Demons of hell?  Spirits of shadow and darkness?  Violet has no idea, but a maybe-mortal man is more wholesome than they, and an arrow slips into place as she hurries forward, off the path.

OOC - Violet will take a full-move, mostly sideways but one diagonal upward, in order to arrive at the top corner of the broken-down wall on the right (from the bottom left corner of the map, 10 squares in to the right, one square up).  If the wall is big enough for her to perch on, she plans to get up there to take high ground for loosing arrows.  If not, she'll likely use it for cover.

Zertin is startled by the knight's sudden arrival and the shadowy apparitions that converge upon him, and by Violet's sudden dash toward the graveyard wall.

It only takes a moment for him to recover though. He whips out his wand and speaks the arcane words to launch a string of five orange-glowing missiles at the shadowy creature to the left of the path near the gallows.

OOC: Zertin rolled 18 using 5d4+5.  Magic missile damage.

Caesius, alerted by the man's cry, moves towards him.  As he enters the graveyard, he holds forth  the silver lightning bolt that represents the might of Heironeous and calls out, "Lord Heironeous, hear the prayer of your servant!  Lay your hand upon this place and drive forth the minions of darkness!"

Qvar is startled by the sudden turn of events and Violet's rapid departure.  She does seem to think things through most thoroughly before ever she speaks ... it will be interesting to learn where her thoughts have arrived, in due course.

He follows Caesius into the graveyard, wooden Sun symbol in hand and ready to turn the shadows.  It seems he may not need to.  He grins broadly as Caesius takes the inishituv.  "How could Lord Heironeous refuse?"

Ashlyn too follows in Caesius's wake, dragging her sword from the scabbard as she closes with the foe, her expression grim.

"In Lathander's name I charge ye shades begone !" she challenges the undead, though is relying upon the name of her god and the blade in her hand to rout them.

As you see the undead approach the armoured man, you surge forwards.

Violet is swiftest, closing the distance between herself and the lich wall in short order and, judging the construction to be sufficiently solid, quickly clambers up, gaining the top before unshouldering her bow.  Ireena follows nervously on the young woman's heels, but pauses at the base of the wall, drawing her blade, her awkwardness betraying that while she may know how to use the sword, it has been some time since last she did so.

Not needing to take even a step, Zertin levels his wand at the shadowy creature lurking to the north, besides the gallows, loosing five glowing missiles which strike true.  Your ears are assailed by an inhuman scream as its form is rent asunder.  At the mage's side, Saeko's eyes turn in the other direction, as if expecting an ambush.

Dropping the reins of his horse (which are quickly if unnecessarily taken up by Randall who knows where he is most of use in this fight) Caesius enters the graveyard, stumbling over the scattered stones of the collapsed wall as he boldly thrusts his token of Hieroneous towards the shades, calling upon his god to drive the creatures hence ...

... and as swiftly as they came, they flee.  The four remaining shades fly in the face of the Paladin's demand, soaring away into the mists, as Qvar and Ashyln also navigate the rubble to join him. 

The knight can scarcely believe his change of fortune as he lowers his blade, calling his raven back to his shoulder as he thanks you gratefully.

"Well met, strangers !  A lucky day indeed that brings you to my side in my hour of need !"

"I am Sir Urik, Knight of the Raven ..." he looks to you expectantly.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

"Well met, Sir Urik. I am Ashlyn, my sword sworn to Lathander.  The townsfolk in Barovia spoke of you.  Her ..." the warrior woman looks around but doesn't see Ireena behind the stone wall "... Ireena's brother Ismark, the son of the late Burgomaster, expressed his admiration that you have been fighting the evil in this realm for so long !"

"Or at least he was impressed that you were still alive," she admits, ruefully, her vows getting the better of her.

Qvar grins back at Zed then gives Caesius an emphatic nod of appreciation.  "Comprehensively routed."

"Qvar, priest of Pelor whom you recognise as Lathander in this world."  He indicates himself then peers at the knight and raven.  "Are you injured?  Or your raven?"  He reaches halfway toward the bird perched on the knight's shoulder, a restrained gesture, uncertain of permission.

Zertin walks over an rests his hand on Qvar's shoulder.

"Well met, Sir Knight of the Raven. I am Qvar's brother, Zertin. You rather startled us, yelling and charging in like that. Did you already know those shades were there? I didn't even see them at all until after you had charged into the graveyard," he says.