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Chapter 2: The Village of Barovia


Gregorotto

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Giselle Kelyre, "the Drowned"    (Half-Elven Paladin of Conquest 3)Giselle


AC: 18 |  HP: 21/21 |  Passive Perception: 11 | Features | Conditions: None


Spells: ○ ○ ○ (1st) Lay On Hands: 15 / 15


Giselle worked hard, getting her hands dirty. It felt good.  Clean, honest work, even if it left smudges on her face. Clearing rubble, organizing pews, restoring some order to a place of darkness and chaos. She knew the dawn was coming, she knew they needed to work hard to get it ready for the ceremonies to take place at sunrise.

 

If she saw herself in a mirror though, she would have recoiled, on reflex. For the smears of dirt on both her cheeks resembled nothing so much as midnight black wings, reminiscent of a raven. Giselle Kelyre, the Paladin of Shadows, was marked... no matter how much she resisted and insisted she had changed. She walked between two worlds, the light and the dark, despite her desire.

 


At the howl of the wolfpack, her blood turned to ice. She could see the set in the others' shoulders, in the determined and grim looks on their faces. Doru will be the first to end. Perhaps it is just. A true undead has no sunrise, has no hope of change for the better. This is why our Dawn Lord hates them so.

 

She moved to stand beside Father Donavich and indicated his vestments. "Can I help, Father? My friends can protect us, but if they are engaged in combat, I will stand with them. The dawn is the best time for such an act, for it is the rising of the sun that banishes the darkness."

 

She also readied herself to grapple the priest if he tried to interfere with what needed to be done with the vampire spawn. She was prepared to knock him out if he impeded them, though she hoped he would be an asset if there was indeed to be a fight against the supernatural wolfpack. They would need all the help they could get.

 


Mechanics

Action: Be ready to grapple Father Donavich.

Bonus Action:

Move Action: 

Item Interaction:

     
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Posted (edited)

As Doru's screams continue, he bangs on the hatch door: though it shakes, it is solid enough, new enough in the ancient church, that it does not even move; only the chains and lock jangle. At Dynaheir's comment of becoming a monster, Ireena frowns. "Monsters seldom choose to become monsters. In Doru's case, it was something hoisted upon him, it sounds like. There is no dishonor in it from him: only his 'Master.'" She looks to spit, but thinks better of it inside a holy shrine.

Outside the room and in the main chamber of the church, Donavich listens to the wolves apprehensively, and sweating, nods. "Yes, I understand. I will lead the ritual. You shall form the link between myself and your friends, whom we will need as pallbearers alongside Ireena and Ismark; or they can take over entirely and Ireena and Ismark can take their place as mourners, as is befitting. It is merely a matter of resources."

Ireena and Ismark come to their conclusion elsewhere. "We bury my father first," says Ismark, "then we finish the job. The Father has the keys. We take them from him, and we put Doru down. It is the right thing to do. Guilt before blood. I can live with that other the deaths of the innocent." He nods to Sulimann in particular with this regard.

The larger party is told of the plan to bury the Burgomaster, but the plan to eliminate Doru is, for now, a secret untold to Giselle. Donavich explains the positions: they can act as guardians, or as pallbearers. If there are four pallbearers, Ireena and Ismark can take their place as proper mourners, but if not, the siblings will help carry their father. Ireena's eyes well, and so do Ismark's; the more stoic of the pair, Ismark fights his, while Ireena does not. A rage enters her face, and Donavich, donning the full vestments and lights the incense inside of the thurible, stepping to the front of the group. "If Strahd's servants attack us, defend us. We must get the body into the ground, no matter the cost. We do this by dawn's emergence, to honor the life of the dead. Bring your weapons, and your wits. Strahd's servants have more than fang and claw as tools of destruction."spacer.png

With that, he turns to the door, breathes in deep, and opens the front door of the church, swinging the censer as smoke billows out. His prayer is almost song-like, without thought for rhyming of advanced elocution.

"Morninglord, we entreat this soul into your care. Just as all lives dawn, all lives must face twilight and night: but we welcome your final beams of light and know that just as this life ended, so too comes a new dawn in your enduring arms. Your warm embrace we beseech thee to give to Kolyan Indirovich, honored among us as the Burgomaster of our small village: a kind master, a loyal servant of his county, fair-minded and careful in his actions for fear of repercussions those in his care might face. We illuminate these virtues, knowing full well they are but one part of a character: that any light casts shadows but the illumination is beauty enough to be glad of it. We enter this life from darkness, we enter into death in darkness: but darkness is nothing without life to illuminate and cast shadows. Into your arms, we entreat Kolyan: so mote it be." Ireena and Ismark, and Giselle knows to, repeat "so mote it be" as if trained.

He says this as they step into the blue light of predawn, turning slowly to the cemetery and into it, where they slowly walk to the hole, moist and ugly and muddy, with a headstone already there. On one side it reads "KOLYAN INDIROVICH, 681-: BURGOMASTER OF BAROVIA, DEVOTED FATHER AND HUSBAND" while on the other it reads "ANASTASCYZA INDIROVICH, 685-724: MATRON OF MORNING, BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER." Bram and Tamu know the current year, in this Barovian calendar, is 735.

While the streets of Barovia to the south are clear, as they turn into the cemetery they see, not hear, the wolves: eyes shining in the dark as a thick fog cloaks the cemetery's rusted iron fence. By counting, they can detect no less than three dozen wolves. But it does not stop there. In the morning's mist, shapes emerge, figures standing as if humanoid, unscared of the sun. Their eyes have a glow to them as well, but the exact details of each shape beyond their humanoid stature remains untellable. Not a single one, beast or man, makes a sound as the procession continues, giving a chill to each soul in succession.

They arrive unmolested, given due space.

"We come now to bid the final rites of farewell to our beloved burgomaster, and I invite any who wish to speak now to do so."

Tamu is the first to notice it: in the distance, above the fog on a hill, stand two figures on horseback. One is draped in shadows; the other in light, his elven features clear as the morning's light.

The other sits upon a horse whose mane is made of fire.

Edited by Gregorotto (see edit history)
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bramtoke.png.9dfccc21ea93a65b3fda4f82615969f5.pngBramzoz Nannin

HP:   20/20

AC:   12/15/17/20

Init:  +2

PP:   13

Speed:  30

Spell Slots: 4/4lvl1, 2/2lvl2

Arcane Recovery:  1/1

Portent Dice:  15/1

 

Snipssnipstoke.png.504941c5eb410641aac7c36772f2ca50.png

HP:   1/1

AC:   11

Init:  +1

PP:   13

Speed:  5 ft. , fly 30 ft.

Flyby

Keen Hearing and Sight

 

 

Features

Class Features:  Spellcasting, Arcane Recovery, Arcane Tradition: Divination, Divination Savant, Portent

Languages:  Celestial, Common, Elvish, Infernal

Weapons & Armors:  Crossbow, Light, Dagger, Dart, Quarterstaff, Sling, no armor

Feats:  Warcaster

Racial & Background:  Researcher

IC

The burial rite was unlike any he had ever seen. Not so much the words or the traditions, those seemed fairly standard; but more so the environment, which was exceedingly hostile. Bram had taken a place as a pallbearer to give Ireena and Ismark a chance to properly mourn, even though he had to struggle to keep pace the others due to his slight frame. When the eyes of the wolves emerge out of the fog, and the silent humanoid figures gaze upon them as they proceed, Bram can't help to feel dread and fear at this hostile presence.

He put on a brave face and continued to help, realizing that the residents of Barovia had to live with this situation their whole lives. When Tamu pointed out the two figures on the hill, Bram wished they would come down, if only so he could face this source of dread head on rather than let it fester in his soul. Without any recourse available, he continued to assist the ceremony in any way he could, while keeping an eye on the wolves and figures in case he had to protect this group from their malice.

OOC

Move:  n/a

Action:  n/a

Bonus Action: n/a

Item Interaction:  n/a

Reaction:  n/a

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image.png.96665b6a5ba89c3b8a3da17040db17df.pngJoliet

HP:   30/30

AC:   14

Init:  +3

PP:   13

Speed:  30

Ammo:  6/6

Action Surge:  1/1

Second Wind:  1/1

Fighting Spirit: 3/3

Condition:  Normal

Features

Class Features:  Action SurgeSecond WindFighting Style - Archery, Fighting Spirit

Tools:  Thieves' Tools, Playing Cards

Languages:  Common, Paridon Creole

Weapons & Armors:  All Weapons, All Armors, Shields

Feats:  Gunner

Racial & Background:  Ear to the Ground

IC

"Doru, we'll be just a tick, yeah?" Joliet calls back over her shoulder to the panicking hellspawn. She's accepted that they don't have the time to spare on experimentation. It's a shame to put the boy down when there's still more to be learned about their eventual quarry. But time is always the greatest enemy of all, or so her pop would say.

As the procession forms, Joliet offers to serve as a pallbearer along with Bram and Dynaheir. It's evident from the first few steps that the Rashemi woman is taking the lion's share of the load, with the rest of them mostly helping to maintain the balance. If not for the awkward size, Dyna likely could have handled it all on her lonesome.

During the walk, Joliet counts the wolves surrounding them and makes mental calculations as to how many shots she might get off before the pack reached them. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

After being unburdened of the casket, Joliet rolls her shoulders and shakes out her arms. She mutters some curses under her breath until she remembers the solemn nature of this ceremony. She clears her throat, as if the curses were just coughs, and then quiets. She keeps her head bowed and doesn't speak again until priest, son, and daughter have all shed their words.

Looking up, she then notices the figures atop the hill. More sights foreign to her. She wonders at the horse with the flaming mane. Nudging Bram with her elbow, she asks,
"That sort of thing common?"

Then, displaying the kind of bravado reserved for idiot teenagers who've never known real pain or suffering, Joliet strides forward a few paces and calls out to the figures. "I say, fine mornin' for a funeral! Appreciate you comin' out!

"And I like yer horse!
"

She tips her hat.

OOC

Move:  n/a

Action:  n/a

AoO: n/a

Action Surge:  n/a

Bonus Action:  n/a

Reaction:  n/a

Edited by emotionaut (see edit history)
Name
Hat Intimidation
13
1d20+4 9
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Dynaheir-Minscthara-02-375x500DYNAHEIR | HP 32/32 | AC 15 | Initiative +2 | Passive Perception 12 | Rages Remaining 3


Dynaheir volunteers to be a pallbearer immediately, taking the front corner of the casket and holding more than her fair share. The emergence of the wolves makes her wish she had a weapon she could bear with a single hand; she might be able to manage her greatsword, but it would be awkward and cumbersome with the burgomeister's coffin on her shoulder.

She eyes the wolves warily, focusing her attention on them despite the intimidating pair of figures on the hill above. Proximity generally dictates threat, after all. The ominousness of their situation makes her uncharacteristically cautious, and when Joliet launches her taunts at the distant figures, Dyna has to fight a reflex to cover her mouth with her hand. "Perhaps we should wait to taunt the villains and their massive pack of wolves until we have both hands free?" She glances back up at the distant pair of riders. "Though it is a very impressive horse."

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bramtoke.png.9dfccc21ea93a65b3fda4f82615969f5.pngBramzoz Nannin

HP:   20/20

AC:   12/15/17/20

Init:  +2

PP:   13

Speed:  30

Spell Slots: 4/4lvl1, 2/2lvl2

Arcane Recovery:  1/1

Portent Dice:  15/1

 

Snipssnipstoke.png.504941c5eb410641aac7c36772f2ca50.png

HP:   1/1

AC:   11

Init:  +1

PP:   13

Speed:  5 ft. , fly 30 ft.

Flyby

Keen Hearing and Sight

 

 

Features

Class Features:  Spellcasting, Arcane Recovery, Arcane Tradition: Divination, Divination Savant, Portent

Languages:  Celestial, Common, Elvish, Infernal

Weapons & Armors:  Crossbow, Light, Dagger, Dart, Quarterstaff, Sling, no armor

Feats:  Warcaster

Racial & Background:  Researcher

IC

Bram was shaken out of his thoughts by Joliet's question. "Back from where I'm from, no, a horse partially made of fire is not common. Around here though..." Bram stalled as he tried to recall any knowledge he might have on flaming horses or the like. "I'm not sure I have the experience to make a determination... Magnificent, though, isn't it?" he asked, mirroring Dyna's comments.

OOC

Move:  n/a

Action:  n/a

Bonus Action: n/a

Item Interaction:  n/a

Reaction:  n/a

Name
Arcana Check, flaming horse
6
1d20+5 1
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Doru's howls continue as they leave, the only response to Joliet's statement that they would return in a moment. Once outside, the sudden appearance of the forces of darkness, as they can be anything but, is a cause for concern and hushed conversation. For Joliet, there is little need for caution. As even Dynaheir considers how to proceed carefully before butt-kicking for goodness, Joliet decides to address the problem head-on and speak to the figure on the flaming horse, which Bram cannot make heads or tails of: is it illusion? Is it magic? Is it inherent to the being?

With the tip of her hat, the wolves begin to growl and a low moan begins to rise from the figures in the morning mist. The two figures on the horses remain steadfast, the one on the normal horse looking and speaking to the other, his horse nervous. But the man on the flaming steed is not remotely moved. He raises his hand to Joliet, waving at her, and then turns his horse away. The other figure pauses, staring at Joliet a moment longer, before following after. Soon, the wolves and the figures in the mist begin to retreat, the pack animals rejoining packs as they enter the woods and farmlands making for the wilds of Barovia at-large. The figures in the mist shamble onward, as if they were never there.

When they are gone, Ireena sniffles, offering the others a resolute not despite her tears. "Papa always taught us to do the next right thing when standing up to bullies, to darkness, to... whatever came our way. Do what is right and the rest will work itself out. So we contend to do so." Ismark nods, too moved to speak without breaking. Ireena looks at Joliet, as if begging her a question.

"What now?" She asks, knowing the answer. Her eyes dart back to the church.

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Giselle Kelyre, "the Drowned"    (Half-Elven Paladin of Conquest 3)Giselle


AC: 18 |  HP: 21/21 |  Passive Perception: 11 | Features | Conditions: None


Spells: ○ ○ ○ (1st) Lay On Hands: 15 / 15


Giselle took a deep breath as the wolves and the horsemen retreated. She felt a weight lifted from her psyche, even as she bore the weight of the deceased on her shoulders. She had been struck dumb by the appearance of the honor guard, as if the horsemen and wolves had been paying respects. Or was it observing? In anticipation?

 

"What now? Miss Ireena, we must bury the dead. We must consecrate the ground and observe the proper rites. The Morninglord stands in defiance to those like the Devil Strahd, and even poor Doru. He knows the way to deal with their kind; be steadfast. Be strong. Trust that the sun will rise.

 

"As you say, the next right thing is to finish this burial. Then and only then should we address any other problems."  Her eyes glanced back at the chapel and the problem below it. She hoped she could be strong for Father Donavich. She hoped he would be an ally in the struggle to come.

 

"Does anyone have anything to say in remembrance of the burgomaster?"

 


Mechanics

Action: Be a good pallbearer.

Bonus Action:

Move Action: 

Item Interaction:

     
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1713373170323.jpg.709ad03e42635a09d5925f3ec337011a.jpgDYNAHEIR | HP 32/32 | AC 15 | Initiative +2 | Passive Perception 12 | Rages Remaining 3


"He was a good man in a place where it seems very difficult to be one," Dyna says solemnly.

She looks to where the silent riders sat, frowning. Then she turns back to Ireena and Ismark and nods respectfully to them. "And he raised two children who also strive to be good in this dark place. A noble legacy to leave behind."

Edited by Kavonde (see edit history)
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spacer.pngchecked-shield.svgAC: 13 | health-normal.svg HP: 21/21 | awareness.svg PP: 15 | Languages: Common, Celestial, Elvish, Infernal

Spell Slots: 1st 4/4, 2nd 2/2 | Current Conditions: None


Tamu felt the young spirit she had called shift behind her at the arrival of the strange horsemen. Her hand had shifted to the blade she wore. But then the strangers departed, and Tamu was once again bewildered by the brashness of these folk that had come to Ireena and Ismark. They seemed to have little fear and much conviction - unable to feel the haunted nature of this place. Or maybe it was simply Tamu's own recent tragedies and trials that left her sensitive to darker potential. Nonetheless, she was relieved when the eerie watchers departed.

Returning her attention to the ceremony, Tamu found herself with few words to add but she keenly empathized with the sense of loss. She thought of her mother and her sister - and felt Nuzha wrap comforting arms about her shoulders. Though her own father had failed her and was owed none of her affection, Tamu sensed that the Burgomeister had tried in his way to be a good parent to Ireena and Ismark - that much was obvious by their sorrow.

She placed a hand on Ireena's shoulder, her words meant for both her hosts. "I'm sorry that he was taken from you sooner than necessary. I hope his memory is a comfort to you."

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image.png.96665b6a5ba89c3b8a3da17040db17df.pngJoliet

HP:   30/30

AC:   14

Init:  +3

PP:   13

Speed:  30

Ammo:  6/6

Action Surge:  1/1

Second Wind:  1/1

Fighting Spirit: 3/3

Condition:  Normal

Features

Class Features:  Action SurgeSecond WindFighting Style - Archery, Fighting Spirit

Tools:  Thieves' Tools, Playing Cards

Languages:  Common, Paridon Creole

Weapons & Armors:  All Weapons, All Armors, Shields

Feats:  Gunner

Racial & Background:  Ear to the Ground

IC

Joliet returns the horseman's wave and then continues to study the pair as they take their leave. Only after they've been gone and out of sight for a good while does she turn back to the proceedings behind her. If she's been at all rattled by the experience, she doesn't let it show. Wearing her usual cocksure smirk, she says, "Well, now, that was interestin'. Got half a mind to trail after them, but I figure that'd be ill-advised. Plus we still got our boy Doru to sort, yeah?

"And on that note, we lookin' to do that sortin' now?"

OOC

Move:  n/a

Action:  n/a

AoO: n/a

Action Surge:  n/a

Bonus Action:  n/a

Reaction:  n/a

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As the funeral winds down, Ismark nods to Joliet's mention. "Better now than later."

He takes a deep breath, moves to Father Donavich, where his steeled eyes meet those bloodshod tear-strown eyes. "Thank you, Father. My father respected you above all others in the village: he thought of you as a friend. But he would support us in this action now, for the good of the village, and your own soul." Before Donavich can react, Ismark is upon him, wrapping his arms around Donavich's back and pulling both arms back, locking him in a grapple. The priest cries out, as Ireena moves quickly, taking the ring of keys from the tattered belt that barely keeps Donavich's robes around him. The protests of the priest are incomprehensible before Ireena takes the key ring and steps back, apologizing. "We love you, and we love Doru: but that thing is not Doru. Not anymore, Father. I'm... I'm sorry."

Donavich protests. "No... NO! NOT MY SON! HE'S ALL I HAVE LEFT! PLEASE! NOT MY BOY!" Turning, Ireena closes her eyes, and walks to Joliet, handing her the keys.

"Do it. We'll keep Donavich here."

The dawn rises. It's time.

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bramtoke.png.9dfccc21ea93a65b3fda4f82615969f5.pngBramzoz Nannin

HP:   20/20

AC:   12/15/17/20

Init:  +2

PP:   13

Speed:  30

Spell Slots: 3/4lvl1, 2/2lvl2

Arcane Recovery:  1/1

Portent Dice:  15/1

 

Snipssnipstoke.png.504941c5eb410641aac7c36772f2ca50.png

HP:   1/1

AC:   11

Init:  +1

PP:   13

Speed:  5 ft. , fly 30 ft.

Flyby

Keen Hearing and Sight

 

 

Features

Class Features:  Spellcasting, Arcane Recovery, Arcane Tradition: Divination, Divination Savant, Portent

Languages:  Celestial, Common, Elvish, Infernal

Weapons & Armors:  Crossbow, Light, Dagger, Dart, Quarterstaff, Sling, no armor

Feats:  Warcaster

Racial & Background:  Researcher

IC

Bram's heart broke as he heard the lamentation of the old priest. There was no guarantee that what they were about to do wouldn't destroy the man. A soul can only take so much before it is forever broken. But Bram knew they had to act. Doru was Strahd's through and through and they could not leave him behind to potentially cause mayhem on the village, or to escape and bolster Strahd's forces.

"I am sorry, priest," Bram said, trying to hide the break in his voice from the sorrow. "It must be done. No longer will Doru be a slave to evil. It is no recompense, but at least his soul will be free." Bram turned and left the priest in the hands of the siblings, steeling himself for what must be done. As he walked to join Joliet at Doru's door, he lightly tapped his staff on the ground twice, then held it aloft as he said, "Sui tutela!" A shimmering field of gold briefly blazed around him before sparkling out of existence. Then he gripped his staff in both hands and nodded to Joliet.

OOC

Move:  n/a

Action:  Cast Mage Armor

Bonus Action: None

Item Interaction: None

Reaction: On any Crit: Silvery Barb

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image.png.96665b6a5ba89c3b8a3da17040db17df.pngJoliet

HP:   30/30

AC:   14

Init:  +3

PP:   13

Speed:  30

Ammo:  6/6

Action Surge:  1/1

Second Wind:  1/1

Fighting Spirit: 3/3

Condition:  Normal

Features

Class Features:  Action SurgeSecond WindFighting Style - Archery, Fighting Spirit

Tools:  Thieves' Tools, Playing Cards

Languages:  Common, Paridon Creole

Weapons & Armors:  All Weapons, All Armors, Shields

Feats:  Gunner

Racial & Background:  Ear to the Ground

IC

As the group makes its way back to the church, Joliet falls into step beside Bram. Keeping her voice low, so as not to upset Father Donavich, she asks, "If Doru is one of these things, what might we expect? Most monsters back in Paridon are the human sort, though we did have stories of skinchangers. Some said a blade of silver would do them in. So if the boy is more a monster than a man now, might there be somethin' akin we might leverage to turn things to our favor?"

After her talk with Bram, Joliet shifts over to walk beside Dynaheir. Keeping her voice low, she says, "You ready to make a mess of things? Best get it done quick, yeah?"

OOC

Move:  n/a

Action:  n/a

AoO: n/a

Action Surge:  n/a

Bonus Action:  n/a

Reaction:  n/a

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1713373170323.jpg.709ad03e42635a09d5925f3ec337011a.jpgDYNAHEIR | HP 32/32 | AC 15 | Initiative +2 | Passive Perception 12 | Rages Remaining 3


"As quickly and as painlessly as possible," Dyna agrees. Her heart is heavy at what they must do, but it's clear that brave Doru, or whatever is left of him, is well and truly the servant of dark forces now. She offers Father Donavich a sympathetic frown, then draws her greatsword from over her shoulder and gives it a few one-handed test swings as they walk towards Doru's prison. "It is not fair, what we must do. But the blame lies not with us, but with the villain who would inflict such a fate on others. And perhaps this act will give both Doru and, someday, his father peace."

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