“Not specifically,” Torvill said, a look of concern on his face.  He was about to elaborate, but lost control of his body to another fit of wracking cough, that brought another small array of blood flecks to his lips.

Once he recovered his composure, he went on, “The de Carnash are a large and powerful family in Raktine, though.
Dangerous to go after one of them ... let alone all”.
After a moments thought, he asked, “What makes you think she’d still be alive?”

Giovanno rubbed at his chin, feeling the stubble there graze and dig into his hand as he tried to think and contemplate  over the information Ol' Torvil had given him. His question was just as valid. "Well..." he began, taking in a deep breath. "The Curse originated from them, right?  And it's apart of them, like you said, It's literally apart of her Love. I figure, that means as long as the Curse is still Alive, that it's possible she would be too." he explained though it was obvious by the tone of his voice he wasn't sure at all and was more likely just trying to assure himself that he still had a strong lead to pursue.

"All in all, it just means that if I want to break this Curse in someway or another, it looks like I have to go to Raktine, the only uncertainty I have of that is...I don't know where that is." he added, still sounding uncertain.

He turned his full attention to the Old Man. "Regardless, if that's all the information that I can get, then it's far better than when I first arrived here. And I'm ready to take you to Long Nets as payment. Maybe while I'm there I can figure out to get to Raktine."

With a camaraderie smile, Torvill gave Giovanni a wink, "I can show you where Raktine is, and give you some tips on how to get there".  Ol' Torvill was an old man, who'd lived a long and educated life.  And right now, he felt a kinship with the young man before him that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

The two had experienced, in the last hour or so of knowing each other, some 'Serious Shit^tm' that had kinda brought the two together, onto a path that would have them working together for some time to come.
In truth, Torvill felt that, for him, this would undoubtedly be his 'Last Big Adventure^{also tm}'.

"They say there is no time like the present, eh!   'The longest journey starts with the first simple steps'.
If you give me a hand to pack up what I need from this place, we can start out by noon, I reckon.

We can talk more along the way".   He gazed off into he distances for a moment, into those stark, cold mountains to the south east, and frowned.   "Them thar mountains are the realm of Lagren, though:  the 'Lord of Flies'.   The small God of Disease ... an' to be honest, any God is something I'd prefer to avoid", he said, then looked Giovanni in the eye, "but I guess we don't have much choice now, do we?"


The morning was spent packing Torvill's essentials into two backsacks.  While the cabin was a treasure trove of information and education sources ... books, maps, tomes, journals ... Torvill was bringing precious little of it with him.  The two of them couldn't carry much, given the distance and terrain they expected to travel, and the fact was, Torvill was preparing to travel home ... to die.
He was, in all fact, done with this life.

What he packed was clothes, pillows and blankets, food and water ... with a few small books that looked like personal journals and/or diaries (possibly to share with any family he expected to find in LongNet).
And for Giovanni: a compendium of the realm.  A 'book of the world' which included some maps ... to teach the young man with him as much as he could upon their trek.

A couple of hours later, the two stood outside the cabin, backsack's loaded and ready to go.
Torvill was wondering if Giovanni felt it appropriate that "we set this place a burnin' before we leave?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 23:16, Thu 03 Oct 2019.

"That is extremely generous of you," Giovanni replied, bowing his head a bit before he set out to do his best to help the old man pack up whatever possessions he want to bring. Once they were all set, he offered to help carry anything that would ease the Torvil's burden as they traveled. He was even more blown away by the gift of the Compendium. It was quite possibly the only real gift he had ever been given by another person. Though he had survived for a long time under harsh conditions that would bring any other Reachman to shame, his struggle to survive had left very little opportunity to educate himself beyond the ability to talk and read Vagabond symbols. Still, the pictures would be nice and whatever the Old Man wanted to teach him, he was more than willing to commit to memory.

When Torvil brought up the dangers of crossing the Omen Peaks and looked into Giovanni's eyes. "Well, if we can, hopefully we can avoid their notice. I have no business with them, but if this 'God of Disease'  stops us, then I am assured that my Curse will be responsible for it, but I will do my best to protect you all the same."


When everything was all packed up and ready to go and the two of them stood outside the cabin. looking at it. Giovanni pondered over his question. "It is your home or rather...was. If you would like it destroyed, I think I can do that for you."

With a curious sideways look, Torvill said, "What, you mean like 'destroy it' using that incredible light you generate?"
Then, with a grin that crept across his face, "Sure, Ok".

He'd pretty much decided to torch the place anyway, but hadn't thought to do so with anything but regular, mundane fire.
The thought of watching his young companion set the place ablaze with his strange magic was ... well, exciting.

The cabin as a treasure trove of knowledge and items.  But Torvill knew that he couldn't take it all with him.
He'd packed what was essentially important, and was (to his surprise) ready to let the rest go.  What was left was, in truth, the remnants of his life.   He was, he knew, going home to die now.  He had no more use for this stuff, even if he might want to horde it.

But leaving it behind for the villagers was a vain and useless gesture: they couldn't make nothing of it.
The only people nearby who might make use of it, Torvill didn't want getting their grubby hands onto it ... for he was sure that they would only use it for 'evil' purposes.



Either way, with the cabin blazing far behind them, the company of two began the journey of a thousand miles(?).
Torvill explained, as they walked, "There is an old trade route, through the southern mountain passes' pointing to the lower peaks ahead of them.
The Omen Peaks were the mountain range that ran down the spine of the Bleak Reach.  The higher, central peaks were not worth considering, as a method of travel, but towards each end, as the mountains pestered off, trade routes had been forged.

"We could go north," he said, turning and looking back behind them at the far horizon, "Which would take us away from Lagren's domain.  But," and he gave a shiver.  Although it was as cold as usual, Giovanni got the impression that the chill the old man experienced had less to do with the cold, than with the thought that came with the unfinished sentence.

Returning his attention to the south-east, Old Torvill continued on .... walking and chatting.

As nightfall approached, it occurred to Giovanni that the two might be having to find somewhere to camp.  He couldn't see any signs of a village in the near distance ... but the foothills they travelled into didn't provide much of a view, though.
Maybe Torvill had a plan, somewhere he was headed to?

When Torvil gave Giovanni his blessing to destroy the Cabin, the Vagabond moved to a spot nearby from where he could feel the sun's natural light wash over him. Slowly, he took in a deep breath uncertain if his idea would even work but given how...Connected he felt to the Sun and it's life giving Radiance, he felt he was sure he could achieve the task he desired to achieve.

With a calm and clear mind, putting all thoughts of the Curse and the upcoming journey from his mind, Giovanni focused on the sensation of the Light. Feeling how it caressed over his rough and ragged form. How it warmed him. How it filled him with the Strength he needed to make it from day to day. He focused on those divine and celestial feelings, a soft smile forming in the corners of his lips as he reached down for that Blessing he felt Bound to him, feeling as it reached out for the Light as he would, letting their energies co-mingle with one another within him. Like he had before he drew the Light into his very being, letting it fill him with it's Comforting glow and as the moments passed he touched that Passion he felt within him. The Source of his own Drive to Survive and Press Ever Onward, infusing that Light even more with his Blessing. He could feel it, in a metaphysical sense, how the Light within him took on a nebulous and ephemeral shape. He Could Mold the Sunlight to his Whims and guide it how he saw fit. And in his Mind, he knew what he wanted to do.

As Naturally as he wielded the Blade that was safely sheathed at his side, he lifted his hand up high, pointing directly to where the Sun was positioned high within the Sky and he opened his eyes, the Divine Radiance spilling forth from his eyes with a deep glowing intensity. That was when the sunbeam that was falling upon him began to move...in fact all rays of Sunlight in the immediate vicinity moved, each one of them being directed toward Torvil's Cabin. His home. A Place of Shelter and Security. The entire building was awash in the focused Radiance of the Sun.

That was when, with a snarl of forced effort, Giovanni swung his hand down firmly and finally, as though he was swinging his sword in a decisive slash and a Beam of Pure Concentrated Sunlight shot from the Sun and Smote the Cabin with a furious blast of raw divine Might, smashing through the roof and setting the inside and the entire building itself a blaze in concentrated heat, reducing the modest home into a pit of burning fire.

It was literal moments later when the natural rays of light shifted back to their natural path and Giovanni stumbled to a knee, panting as the Light dispersed from his body. He was sweating and panting from the effort and he looked to the Old Man with a tired but pleasantly surprised look upon his features.



After a short moment to rest, Giovanni walked with Torvil in the direction he preferred, the south-east trade road. "While, I feel as though I would have no issues going North in most circumstances, It would likely be best for us to travel the quickest Path, lest we induce the Ire of My Curse. But, as I said, if Troubles finds us regardless, I will do my best." he assured.

Once Nightfall began to approach. Giovanni kept his thoughts to himself, instead letting Torvil guide and lead as he desired. Instead, he let the years of being a Wandering Vagabond serve him, keeping an eye out for potential sources of food, shelter, and safety just in case they could not find such a place themselves.

OOC: Giovanni basically used a Miracle to Smite Torvil's Home, which in essence made him even more tired than normal. I hope this is okay, but since he used a Miracle, that means he has used up all 3 of his Effort until he can reclaim it.

Also, he is making a Wisdom Check (18) Vs (3) with his Fact to make sure he can find Torvil and himself someplace to set up camp if it is needed.

18:51, Today: Giovanni rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  Wisdom vs 3+.

Within hours, the burning husk of Torvill's old home was but a mere flickering pinpoint in the darkening shadows behind them.

And nighttime approached.
Torvill hadn't spoken much as the pair had travelled; saving himself for the journey.

Awesome Wisdom roll: Giovanni has aced this task for this night ... and set precedence for future nights also, as we'll not be roleplaying every night.
Evening fell.   And many harsh years of travelling this forsaken, unforgiving land had given Giovanni the experiences and foresight that he needed to find the two a safe place to stay the night.

It was a small crevice in a broken canyon, which provided excellent protection from the elements, and little chance of their camp being spotted by interlopers and the like ... even with the small fire that Giovanni was able to set for them.
So long as it was kept small, the fire would adequately (barely, but enough) warm the small rock fissure, and give off little smoke.

While Giovanni was able to hunt a few small rodents and birds, Ol' Torvill advised against cooking or consuming such, and definitely declined any himself, muttering something about, "This land of disease, these creatures".
But some small measure of vegetation could be found; and from a small, clean pool of water that Giovanni found, a soup of sorts was eventually warmed over the small fire.


After eating, and by the light of a burning branch, Torvill took open the tome he'd gifted Giovanni, and began (between coughs and splutters, that were definitely worse in the cold night air) teaching the 'young fella' something of the world ... starting with the Bleak Reach, and its place within the Realm.

He explained in detail, and showed Giovanni upon the map, where they were, and the Omen Peaks ... and LongNets, way to the south, across those 'accursed' mountains.

And after an hour or so, the old man could barely keep his eyes open, and fell asleep against the hard rock ... leaving Giovanni, tired, gazing at the tome and map.


Giovanni couldn't stay up all night, to watch.  But he'd had to sleep the night prior in this unwelcoming world, and did so tonight no differently ... even, asleep, alert for hints of danger.


Come the morning, Giovanni sensed the Sun rising, even before he saw it.  Even before he opened his eyes in that dark crack of earth.
It filled him with warmth, spiritually, and reignited his soul with Effort and determination.

Following Torvil's advice, Giovanni prepared a safe and nourishing, if meager soup for the two of them, listening to what the old man had to tell him. He was glad to have found this crevice, and in truth was far more able to rest in such a place, though he couldn't help but wonder if Torvil would be able to adjust to it.

Once they were fed, Giovanni watched and listened to what Torvil and to teach him, listening carefully and watching where he pointed at along the Compendium. Once the lessons were over, he stayed up later, looking over the information between the book and the map, as though he was attempting to will himself to keep the information stored within his mind. Then, ocne the siren song of slumber grew too hard to resist, he settled himself down as comfortable as he could make himself, as he had done so many times before, and settled in to rest silently, his body positioned just so that he could spring to the ready in a heartbeat should a predatory or bandit chanced upon their hiding spot.



He awoke when the Sun began to grace the land with it's light, something subconscious within him matching the exact moment as the light barely began to show even the faintest hints of light over the horizon. He took in a deep breath, feeling himself recharged by it and the exhaustion of his Blessing having fading. He was ready for anything that could happen.

Once he was fully awake, he took stock of his surroundings. Making sure Torvil was still there and alive first and foremost.

Torvill was certainly still alive, and woke when his senses told them that Giovanni was moving about nearby.
That cough the old man had racked him again, as he began to stir, though ... and although Giovanni suspected that the old man was a tough nut, and had probably survived a great deal more than most people, the disease that was eating away his lungs and chest within was a true curse in itself.

But ablutions and morning preparations done, the two set off again across the ragged, unwelcoming terrain ... again, towards the south east, towards the lowered horizon of craggy skyline through with travel was both possible and pre-engineered.

Torvill chatted as the two travelled.   It was more rambling anecdotes than any true imparting of knowledge; but he spoke of the land, and his life, history, and what Giovanni could expect as they travelled ... both into the southern parts of the Bleak Reach, and beyond.

This side of the Omen Mountain range was desolate, apparently, Giovanni learned.  By comparison, the land south of the mountains was much more populated, with outposts and farming communities.  The weather less harsh, and the land slightly more arable.  As would be expected, the greatest communities were along the coastline, where fishing could supplement the farming, and trade was possible with the 'mighty' nations beyond ... The Bright Republic, Vissio and The Patrian Empire.

Communities were rare, this side of the crags, focused on the occasions boons the land provided.  Often, one could travel for days without coming across a village.   Once they had crossed the spine of the world, they could expect to find communities spaced about a day or so apart.


And so it was, the two travelled.  And it was, indeed, only on the third day that the two came into sight of a township ... one of the bigger ones that Giovanni had ever seen.  Torvill named it 'Suttons Ridge', and explained that it was a mining town.  The community there a Oligarchy, ruled by the very rich and dominant Hersh family who'd made built their powerbase from the ore's their 'employees' drew from the ground, and which they sent north, trading with The Atheocracy of Lom and The Ulstang Skerries (these were places that Torvill spent time educating Giovanni about that night, as they camped one last time in the barren wilderness before reaching Suttons Ridge).

Torvill warned Giovanni that such towns had very rigid and unforgiving laws, and lawgivers.  But that, if they wanted to trade for more food and replacement provisions, they would have no 'better' or other choice, before they came upon the mountain trade road.

Giovanni listened and kept a watch out as they traveled, doing his best to try and find the best paths for them to walk upon to ease Torvil's body. He was fascinated by the old man's anecdotes and when asked, he would try his best to offer his own, though most of them were of the years of hardship and misfortune that had followed him since he had been a young child, so they were heavily truncated.

When they reached the outskirts of Suttons Ridge, Giovanni began to look uneasy and apprehensive, slowly shaking his head. "I have no money and I don't think they would take too kindly to either of us... and my Curse typically comes to power in such places...but, if you prefer, I can try and barter with them for any supplies you have require." he said to the Old Man.

It was true that the two needed supplies.  Giovanni was truly a survivor, and knew how to make the most of the land, but most of the time, there was barely enough to source for one stomach, let alone two.
Water was running out, and they could do with more flint, a couple of extra blankets, and rations to supplement the meagre scavenging of the environment.
And Torvill really could do with various herbal remedies that would aid his health during their travels.

Further more, if mounts could be arranged, or travel with a caravan perhaps, it might make the journey through the mountain passways swifter ... and safer?

Ol' Torvill had some coin, but Giovanni was concerned:  keeping the old man with him was the safest thought, but taking Torvill into the town would slow them down, and would need protecting should anything happen in those streets.
Alone, Giovanni could move faster, and protect himself better: but would be less likely to find the right medicines and herbs for the old man (who would have a much better idea what to purchase).

Right now, Torvill seemed to believe that they two would enter town together ... but Giovanni realised that he could possibly convince the old man to remain behind, in some hidden location.

After pondering over it for a time, Giovanni nodded his head and looked to Torvil. "If you have the money to purchase supplies, it will be quicker and safer to send me in by myself alone. I fear that with how you describe them, they would not take kindly to your illness and I am double worried that my Curse will exploit that. If I am quick, I can get our supplies rapidly with little concern for either. I will find you a safe shelter to rest up and hide within and you can tell me what Laws and customs I should be mindful of so I don't break or offend in my efforts."

Ol' Torvill frowned, and shrugged, "Thats the problem.   Its a insular world in there; the only law is the word of the Hersh family.   And I've never been there.
It's safe to assume that any activity that threatens or damages their operations and trade will be responded to ... harshly", 'to say the least', "but otherwise, its hard to say.
Oh, there'll be a lot of traders and merchants that are not part of the Hersh operations.  Those syncaphanic remora who are making their living from the needs of the unwashed masses.   Horse traders, kitchens, clothiers, apothecaries.
And they'll have their own operations and rules ... so long as they don't disturb the mining, and the subsequent trade.

So in truth, I don't know what to expect; and you're going to have to think in your feet.
But you've survive till now, right?

Here," he fished out the coins, and some 'tradable' resources from his pack, and handed them over to Giovanni, "Do what you can with this.  Trade 'em for services and stuff.  Hell, maybe you'll find some way to 'earn' some extra", he said.
Torvill had no way of knowing whether Giovanni was stilled pickpocket, for example; or had skills he might trade.
"I could do with some better shoes.  Some Neti Pot, some Hawthorn ... and any Holy Basil you can get your grubbies on.
And food, of course.   Water.

Hell, if you can steal some horses," he suggested, because the sure as hell couldn't afford such, "that'll make travel faster, 'as we ride like the buggery to escape the lynch mob'.

"But it'll be up to you, lad.  Your intuition, your skills, your brains and mouth".

It was late afternoon before Giovanni found someplace in which he felt Torvill might be safe till his return ... and had to decide whether to leave the old man now, and go into town under the cover of darkness (when things will be quieter, darker, and possible watched over by some sort of Watch), or wait till the dawning of the next day.

Giovanni silently listened to Torvil's advice, nodding his head and doing his best to try and commit as much as he could to memory. Then, once the trade goods and money were given to him, he lead Torvil to a safe and secure spot and thinking it over once he saw how late it was. The Sun setting into a golden pale brown, like that of spoiled beer he winched and made to return to Torvil as well.

"The sun sets faster that I care to admit, and I fear that is when I myself may be most vulnerable. I will head into town first thing in the morning when everyone is likely awake and not tired or stressed from the day's business. For now, let's camp here and go over the details once more. Tell me about the medicines and herbs you would like again. I'd rather not get confused when I ask about for them since those are what I will likely have the most trouble with and I would rather not be cheated." he explained, and while he was speaking true, he knew deep inside him that he was also concerned. There were plenty of reasons he had for avoiding such settlements and if he must, then he would go when he could be at the height of his power.

Another night among the rocks.
It wasn’t good for the old man; the ground was, compared to any bed, uncomfortable.  And while they two stayed wrapped, with a small fire warming their niche, the nights were frigid this far north.
Giovanni was young and strong, and had known little better for the recent part of his life.  But Ol’ Torvill’s cough was much worse in this cold night air, and woke them both regularly during the night.


When morning dawned, Giovanni was awoken by the sounds of yonder township ... which carried far in these rocky surrounds.
It woke with shouts and clanging, animal sounds and clanking of tools and machinery.

After seeing to his companion, Giovanni made his way down the craggy hillside, to a small road nearby, then turned towards the largest gathering of trade and community that he’d ever seen:  a thriving, pulsing, somewhat-lawless centre of mercantile opportunity and chaos.


Please, feel free to narrate Giovanni’s entry into the city as you see fit.

With the dawning of the Sun came renewed strength and vigor for Giovanni, as he was always the first to rise and get ready with it's slowly growing accent. He made sure to try and help Torvil out as he could to have as safe and comfortable as he could be in that small alcove among the rocks. Once he had everything together, he did his best to try and make his own appearance look less...haggard and destitute. Road weary would certainly be understandable, but the vagabond and the homeless had a distinct look that would draw many a cruel glance. So he would need to do his best to avoid that.

As he made his way to Sutton's Ridge, he found himself passing through the now open gates and into the township proper, filled with the cacophony of life and trade. There were, by Giovanni's estimation, tons of people moving about, yelling, haggling, trading with one another. The sound of metal being worked and crafted joining in high. Of course, as one of the destitute, life had given the man the ability to keep his awareness in such large and crowded settlements during his few visits to them. He kept a wary eye out for cut-purses and pickpockets who all typically moved with large groups of people to better ply their trade and so he moved confident, like a road weary traveler tired from a long distance and with little patience, to deter those who might consider him an easy mark for being someone new to the township.

As he moved and looked about, Giovanni did his best to survey what he was looking for. Food, Medicine, and Sundry goods. He was keeping an eye for anyone selling those specifically. Once he had those secure, he would try and see what he could do for horses. He wanted to be out of here as soon as possible.

This city was a throbbing metropolis, by any standard that Giovanni had ever experienced.
The crowds of the unwashed masses was overwhelming and maddening as people, horses, carts and sundry shoved and bustled through the crowds.

The sounds and smells joined the movement and activity, making the whole cacophonic miasma a cesspool of activity and confusion.
Giovanni, with your next narrative, please give us a Wisdom Check.  This will serve as an indicator to how well he finds the items/merchants that you search for ... and how well he can spot cut-purses and pickpockets.

The streets were filled, along with those travelling and transporting, with street vendors and merchants ... yelling their wares and looking for sales.
The smells of the city included the subtle and enticing aromas of many food stalls; and Giovanni was immediately and intently aware of how empty his stomach was (as always), and felt a yearning to partake of the substances on offer.

Livestock vendors got in his face, seemingly materialising out of the crowds, hoping to elicit purchases through intimidating and surprise.

And along the way, Giovanni saw posters for some kind of Gladiatorial event, an ongoing and everyday entertainment here in Sutton's Ridge, it seemed.   'Two men enter, One many leaves' the scrawled writing suggested, directing interest towards the 'Stormvault' (wherever that might be), promising great monetary rewards to the victors of such entertainment.


And in one alleyway, Giovanni's attention was drawn to the scene of a young kid, being brutally intimidated by three young men ... held at knifepoint against a wall, and looking very scared.

Further ahead, a group of somewhat uniformed soldiers strode menacingly, and self-importantly, through the crowd ... leering, currently, as a young woman selling turnips and root vegetables.

Using his Fact of having grown up as a vagabond, he'd be aware of all sorts of tricks and traps that pickpockets and cut-purses would use, often having had been the victim of them himself before in the past.

08:00, Today: Giovanni rolled 10 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 6.  Wisdom vs 3+

As he walked through the crowd, keeping himself safe and secure as best as he could, Giovanni tried his best to avoid the food mongers that pushed themselves on him insistently. The smell of the food made his stomach rumble and beg for more, but he would have to tolerate it. The small amount of money he had, he had to use for Torvil. If he was going to buy food, it would have to be safe to keep and be able to travel well. However, what he wanted to get the most was the medicines and supplies. Though the suggestion for horses stuck in his mind often. Faster travel would be of great assistance.

And though he was still learning to read as much as Torvil taught, he could figure out the premise of the gladiatorial fights. He had seen similar on a much smaller scale of those who had money tempt and force the homeless to fight one another for it or scraps of food. He himself had even participated in such events. It was a tempting offer, but, he also figured if he participated now...he'd draw way to much attention than was wise. However, it would still be the easiest way to make money...

He decided, he would save that as a last resort if needed and instead refocused on finding the important supplies he needed the most.

Sutton's Ridge was bustled and pulsed and throbbed about Giovanni, as he manoeuvred through the unwashed masses.
It took him many hours to find each of the items he sought, with the herbal medicines being the hardest to locate and negotiate for.

By midday, Giovanni was somewhat pushing the resources at his disposal to their limit, but he had at least a small quantity of each herb that Ol' Torvill had requested.   What little coin and time he had left would be spent choosing rations for the two that were both portable and had some longevity.
Horses, unfortunately, were well beyond his means now.

His stomach grumbled, too ... when he felt the familiar jolt from a passerby, and a small hand within the folds of his fur and clothing.

He was glad to have found what supplies he could though the unfamiliarity of this place meant it took him sometime to find exactly what he was looking for and soon the hours began to pass. He had been on his way to secure food and rations when he felt the telltale sensation of someone attempting to burgle from him. A small hand by the feeling of things, so if he made a scene, the likely child would have the benefit of the doubt and could make cause a commotion in his favor that got Giovanni in trouble instead, especially if the guardsmen where corrupt.

Instead of directly confronting the sneak thief, Giovanni quickly opted to turn and bend himself against the small searching hand, and if possible step into the nearest shop to dissuade the little pickpocket from following him further, but once inside a building, Giovanni was sure he could work on even ground without risking a danger to himself.

The manoeuvre was sufficient to dislocate from the would-be thief; and moments later, Giovanni found himself indoors of a small bookstore.  It was the kind of store, lacking in any significant level of regular clientele, that fitted into 'a hole in the wall' between the neighbouring black smithery, and tavern.

It was small, musty, and empty of anything other person except the old woman sleeping behind the counter at the back of the store.
The tiny place barely held the two freestanding sets of shelves cramped into the interior, along with the two walls (creating three narrow aisles) that led towards the back of the store.

The old lady snored, and it was obvious to Giovanni that she expected, and got, very few customers.


But he was not followed in to the establishment, and even as he turned his eyes back out into the street, could not tell who out there might have tried to pilfer his last coins.

Giovanni let out a sigh of relief as he escaped from the pickpocket. He wasn't afraid of them, but he had been stressed over any altercation that could possibly draw down the ire of others. When he stopped and took a look around the shop, he was pleasantly surprised to find how strange and quaint it was. He knew time was growing short for him, so, he opted to try and see if he could find his supplies here. Browsing through the selves and aisles quietly so as to not to disturb the old woman who was slumbering. If he found what he could use, then he would gently wake her, but if he couldn't make a purchase, then there would be no need.

It was unlikely that this place would hold anything he needed; it was, after all, a small book store, and unlikely to carry herbs, furs or horses.  But Giovanni saw no reason not to take the place in; after all, if only this, it would give him a few minutes respite from the rat-race outside.

He moved quietly off into the store, stepping around the snoozing old lady at the counter, and into the darkened aisle nearby.
He was adept at moving with such grace, and remaining for the most part unremarkable. A skill, or way of life, Giovanni had become used to living on the fringes of many dangerous communities since he was a kid.

And so it was that he became aware of the darkened figure at the back of the store, without said darkened figure noticing him.
Maybe it was Giovanni’s inconspicuous nature, maybe combined with the fact that the figure seemed to be focused on a large, bulky tome it held open in its hands.

Upon the floor at the figures feet, lay the body of an elderly man.
And as Giovanni took in the scene, the darkened figure turned slightly, perhaps to catch more elusive light upon the pages it was reading; and it muttered to itself as it read.
Giovanni recognised the sound of the language, and the dialect in the voice.  He noticed, also, the pale hand holding the tome.
The ‘darkened figure’, wearing a dark cloak, was one of the Winter Men ... a denizen of the frozen wasteland of the far north isles.

Rumours abounded about that race of ‘men’.  Rumours like: long ago, the race interbred with undead things, or spirits of cold and snow, and have become ... less than human ... and more adept at living in their icey homelands.

He’d seen few in his life, for they mostly stayed to the frigid oceans and the unwelcoming islands of Ulstrang Skerries.
And right now, this one seemed more sinister than any he’d ever witnessed: standing here in the dark, a body at its feet, muttering over some unknown tome.

Giovanni, as he came across the scene before him, was quite figuratively frozen to his spot. he dare not get any closer lest he announce his presence to the Winter Man, but nor could he reasonably turn and leave either. The body at the winter man's feet, he couldn't tell if they were unconscious or dead and he dreaded the answer, but it looked as though something sinister was unfolding here. Was this the power of his Curse at work? He wasn't sure. If he did try and leave, to draw attention to what had happened, it was far more likely that a Vagrant like himself would be blamed and the Winter Man would be nowhere in sight. If he attacked the strange person from the Northern Isles...he had no idea of their relatively strength or ability. What he needed was Information...Answers. Recalling when he had been able to reach out and tap into the Curse's mind when he had possessed Torvil, he sought that feeling again, reaching inside of himself and willing his power to Follow those threads of Power that flowed into the Winter Man. While he was undetected, this would give him the means to assess the situation better. He only hoped he had enough time.

OOC: Giovanni is using his Gift of Passion: Follow the Threads to Identify the 6 most emotionally significant people important to them- their names, appearances, and a few words to describe the bond between them. Lesser Foes can't resist, while worthy foes can save verses Spirit.

- rolled 17 using 1d20 with rolls of 17.  Spirit Save to resist Follow the Threads (13+).

Giovanni reached inside of himself and willed his power to Follow those threads of Power that flowed into the Winter Man.
And in that moment, felt the his power fail him, as it seemed that as he looked deep into the man before him, his search was dissolved by a cold, harsh wind that flowed back into Giovanni and send a proverbial shiver down his spine.

And in that moment, the winter man froze a moment ... then began to turn.
Giovanni has the merest flicker of a second to choose his reaction, before the other man’s eye came upon him.