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Pervy

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Sylvia
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Rictavio, primarly


"I try not judge others on their looks until they've proven their wicked intent." Sylvia glanced over to Vita, but seemed mostly annoyed at the half-elf entertainer. "I never felt like hunting down you Untermenschen, it's not like you can help being born faulty and killing anyone just for that is.. not proper. That said,.." She narrowed her eyes. "If you keep saying that the glorious soldiers of Falkovnia are cowardly murderers... She growled, then shook her head.

"Bah. Mock me and my convictions all you want elf. I've heard a lot of it by now. Words are the weapons of the weak. Oh and as far as I'm concerned you can have that plant back too. Something about it feels just awful anyway." She nodded, then focused on her steak.
 
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Blue Water Inn - Taproom

"My words are not meant to mock. They are meant to teach. And in that regard, they are the weapons of the only hope civilization has."

Rictavio tipped his cap, and would wait for a response from Vita about the wolfsbane, before making his way up the wooden stair way to his room, which he unlocked and slipped inside. From then on, their lunch would be uninterrupted. Ireena finished her meal and looked from one companion to the other.

"There's enough time to see the town a bit," Ireena said. "There's the church, there's seeing the price of silver weapons... and then later we could come back here to find those wolf hunters?"
 

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"Not very many. They were exciting to look at the first few times, but once I grew bored of the fine drawings, most of the books I studied were much plainer. The process of Illuminating a book is labor that could be spent elsewhere, tending the fields, shoring up walls, what have you, and Barovians don't have a very good hand for it, as you might have noticed on our hat-hunt."


Esvele sighed as she clunked the first of three mugs emptied of wine against the table. "If it will help you get over killing these things we could start calling Vita 'Captain' and just have her order you around like you seem to prefer. So much talk over the reason, when it matters not." Esvele speared a cut of wolfsteak on her knife and held it up for effect. "'Vengeance', 'Revenge', 'Justice'. Dressing the deed in pretty words and fragile ideals changes it not. The only purpose of it is to fool the self into believing he is not a sinner, and when the self realizes the depth of their sins in the name of some ideal, the fall is that much higher. To kill is to kill - when the deed is done, warmth flees from the slain, and the world becomes a colder place. If you must gird yourself with solace, find it in hoping the flame snuffed would have warmed fewer souls than it would have burned."

"And to that end..."
the nun continued, as she took another pull of wine as she chewed a cut of particularly tough cut of her wolfsteak, "Why such apprehension towards what must be done? The only measure of a warrior is their strength; what, then, is refusing an advantage but the refusal of a warrior's nature? Ambushes, poison, interrogation... I see no reason to shun such things in pursuit of the defeat of one's foe."


"I suppose I ought to note, though, that it is the Abbott's conviction that even the Devil can be guided towards redemption. It is perhaps a foolish hope, but I want to believe in it as well. I see in him a man led by his desires, detached from his subjects, and likely resigned to his 'role' as one to be feared. If he could be made to see elsewise... well. A foolish hope, but hopes tend to be."

Following Vita's gaze to the jester, Esvele drummed her fingers on the table, before pulling Vita closer, into a whisper.
"If you remember, this is where we were told to find the wereravens, who might help us with seeing into the ethereal. That man seems awfully knowledgeable about were-things, doesn't he? Why don't you take him one of these pints for him. I imagine he thinks me a rambling fool, but he seemed impressed by you, at least. Try to be subtle, but do try to make note that our business with the ravens is much less violent than our business with the wolves. And, ehm, thank him for the herbs. Which we will keep, of course."
 
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Pervy

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Sylvia
Blue water inn
Esvele, DM


"You and I seem to misunderstand one another on a basic level, a shame. I don't need help getting over killing, but I dislike the way we plan it and wonder if there's no better way. And the reason always matters. If you kill to protect others you are a saint, if you kill for yourself you are a sinner. Vita is not quite fit as a captain, but she would be more so than you. That you say the reason for killing matters not makes me wonder.. have you gone on the way of a nun and priestes to avoid your own persecution? You've not been a nun by birth, no nun can drink this well and not even slur her words, that means you've had a life before the church.
You also seem very taken in with the abbots forgiveness, almost as if you recieved plenty of it yourself. No need to answer me, I'm not judging you, I deserted my post, we are all sinners. But observing you, for all this time, your manners are more befitting of a thug on the street than a holy woman in a church, even if you speak more like the latter, seem as if you want to be treated as the latter. But I request you only preach to me once you hold yourself more to what this abbot seems to hold holy. You can either be treated as the thug that values her own survival so much she'd deny strangers aid and even run them down with her cart soon as they bother her, or as the priestess that preaches of a better world. You can not have it both."


Sylvia thought for a moment, constructing her respone: "A warrior should not hunt an advantage at every cost. Some victories are not worth fighting for. Let me be clear, I will use cowardly methods if there is no other option to reach a greater goal, but your eagerness at employing whatever is necessary to survive makes me worry about you almost as much as the wolf-creatures. For example, the curse would be quite helpful to your survival too.
If you want to share your abbots hope then start not by looking at this Strahd, start by looking at yourself. A wicked soul using wicked means can not bring the wicked redemption."
She insisted. "I'm questioning if what we plan on doing is right. Your answer seems to be that we need every advantage we get and not to think about it. Perhaps you are right, but if you want to hope for a better way for this Strahd, why not start now, with one of his creatures. I'm not saying not to capture and poison and torture it. I'm saying we should try and see if there is any other possible way to do this first." She shrugged slightly. Why was she still trying with the self proclaimed priestess? Perhaps she should try and change the topic.

"That said. I wanted to keep quiet about it, but yes, this ..entertainer man does seem to know a lot and be interested in our dealings far beyond what would be healthy for most people. What entertainer wanders the world to teach anyway?" She chuckled. "Either way. I seem to have no talent for making friend with well.. anyone here. Perhaps best I finish up and go find out more about the mentioned smith and how affordable he would be. I'll meet up with you here or at the church." Sylvia determined, nodding and finishing up her meal slowly and preparing to head out to the townsquare to look for the described smith, if none stopped her.
 
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Vita the tiefling warlock, currently dressed
Blue Water Inn - Taproom
Tags: Esvele, Sylvia, Rictavio


Snagging that Bonnet, she donned it upon her head. With practised ease, she pressed and smoothed the fabric to contort to her horns and not snag. Her hair carefully rolled up into it before the remaining is placed in the back of her leather armor. "Ah, that trick. Would make it ah soft pale blue?" She asked of Esvele.

Esvele answering her questions on the illuminating text. "Oh. Thats..." Vita actually drooped at that. The sight of such pretty letters and the pretty highlights of gold, green, and that deep dark smooth black. Those were always fun to trace with her eyes when the priests deigned to have them opened for community prayers. "Pragmatic." Vita said it simply but no longer seemed inclined to ask more questions about the abbey. Her mind already thinking that the abbey would be quite like the rest of Barovia, drabby and gray with only the abbot infusing it with vitality.


The hearty smack on her back had Vita looking at Sylvia with her... absolute surety that her king, Vlad Drakov, is invincible. "Ah, hope he doesn't end up dying then." Vita commented lightly but offered and said no more on that particular line.

Sylvia's little words just had Vita gritting her teeth. Yellow orbs flashing in irritation. The tiefling just paused. The angry warlock tilting her head down, just looking at the wolfsbane. Her mind whirling. "Fine. My retribution will be a fine thing then. I hope you are ready to be my ah, physical restraint then." The tiefling warlock stated that calmly, her wording meaning quite literally physical restraint and not calming or mental.

Vita loved to eat the bread with soup as she munched on it, even with the heavy conversation, she didn't hide her enthuaism at eating yummy food.

Esvele's own input again in this. The way she worded it. Vita just looked at her in confusion. "That's ah... um. I have ah no um. Hrm." The tiefling is just confused trying to follow Esvele's logic beyond the fact that what she got from it is that killing is bad. "Retribution is my ah reason. If ah only wanted to kill, why would I just go after ah werewolves?" Vita just looked at Esvele.

Ireena's wan smile and her words. Vita felt a clench inside of herself. "Yes... It wouldn't be ah safe to come along with ah me to hunt them down." Vita's own soft words a demur agreement. "Still, if ah Father Petrovich isn't ah, safe. I, I will put off my ah hunt." Vita looking ill at being so close and putting it off. But she is resolved to do this, of insuring Ireena is safe before her own selfish wants.

Rictavio's words. "Ah, I'll take it then, If you have ah something like this on you, would you ah be willing to, help? I do not know how I will repay you." As Vita picked up the wolfsbane, her yellow orbs looking at the plant after having looked at Rictavio. This plant, no this poison herb will be helpful. Mayhap even allowing a quicker death for the wolves.


Esvele speaking of redemption for Strahd. "Ah, I'll leave that um ah, heavy handed choice to Ireena. If she, if her people too, want Strahd to be redeened then I'll um help with that." Vita said it simply put as that. Through her yellow orbs lingered on Ireena as she said that. The tiefling touching on their bond to share trust and surety that she'd follow Ireena's lead on what happens with Strahd.

Vita flushed a tiny bit. A pale bloom of warmth in her cheeks as she whispered "Ra-ravens? Oh. Um. I ah, kinda already forgot about that?" The tiefling wincing at making that admission before smiling at Esvele "Ah, um. Sure. I... don't think he is ah that impressed with me. More of... erm." Vita refrained from saying anymore even as she glanced at Rictavio before nodding her head. "Ireena, I'm going over to talk with the kind elf." Vita whispered to Ireena.

Looking at her empty soup and... untouched wolf steak. She picked up the plate and two pints of ale as she carefully got up, balancing the cups and plates. Walking softly over to Rictavio's table. "Do you ah mind if I sit here with you? You have this, ah, surety of knowledge about you when it comes to were-creatures." As Vita stood by the table, not yet sitting down at it but awaiting permission from Rictavio. The tiefling wasn't entirely comfortable with being so intrusive, but she had a gleam in her eyes with Esvele's putting that suggestion.
 
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BlueSlime

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Blue Water Inn - Taproom

Vita picked up the wolfsbane in her hands. It felt itchy.

Ireena set her jaw and it was now the young noblewoman's turn to have her eyes narrow with barely concealed hatred.

"There is no redemption for the Devil Strahd. He is a monster, with the blood of thousands on his hands. Not with an eternity of penance would I forgive him for what he did to my father, and under no circumstances will he have me. He must be destroyed. His final death is the only good service he can render unto this land and the tortured souls of the dead, who are his prisoners."

She looked to Vita.

"I'd thought you most of all would understand that. We've both lost fathers to the creatures of darkness. And these wolves... the ones in this land. They do the bidding of Strahd. If the werewolves who killed your father and kidnapped your mother make their den in Old Svalich Wood... then Strahd is your true enemy."

Ireena spoke with such conviction, that there could be no room for interpretation or doubt.

"Your Abbot's goals may be noble - but if he believes that Strahd can be redeemed... forgive me, but, he is a blessed, deluded fool."

She nodded to Vita, crossing her arms, wishing her well as she got up to speak to the half elf. "I'll not move til you come back. I don't really want to wander far from my protectors, and being inside a building is safe. The Devil cannot enter a place uninvited."

---

Vita approached Rictavio as he made his way up the wooden stairs leading to his room and offered him the spare glass of wine, to which he raised a hand and warded it away.

"I have important work to set to... er... preparations for the coming festival. Entertainer's needs and such..."

Rictavio paused for a moment looking at Vita's offered drink, it seemed.

"...but I suppose I have a few spare moments. Not long, mind you. Come... you can ah, have some privacy in my room."

He opened his inn bedroom door and awaited Vita to enter it if she liked. It was small and utilitarian, with a bed, a desk, and a wash basin, as well as a drawer for clothes. On the corner of the bed was a monkey. A live monkey, with a tiny red vest and a little fez to match. It made a little noise as it saw Vita, and hopped onto the window sill, then calmed as it saw Rictavio beside her.

--------------------

Sylvia exited the inn, and soon came across a smith's shop back at the edge of the town square, where the prisoners continued to stand in the stockades. A small urchin of a child had stood in front of them and was picking up a few pebbles here and there and chucking them at the people, who were unable to see the rocks coming due to the comical donkey masks they were wearing.

"Can I help you?" A burly, accented voice said, belonging to a brawny man who stepped up to the counter. The man had a rather large, upturned mustache, and his brown hair parted neatly down the middle of his skull to either side.

"I am Grygori, and this is my shop. You are a warrior, yes? I can see by your stance." the smith said by way of greeting with small talk.

 

Pervy

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Sylvia
Blue water inn-> Townsquare
Ireena, Smithery!


"Much as I'd rather see great strength come to serve a better cause, I agree, some better serve the world leaving than staying in it. If this Strahd is so wicked, let us hope that heroes strong enough to oppose him will be found one day. Oh well, Thanks for the meal. I need to at least know what I deal with goldwise. Even if we'll have to poison and interrogate a wolf-man, a silver axe will inspire more fear than a normal one." She nodded and departed the inn.

On her way, she derailed to step infront of the stockaded people when she noticed the kid. She was not about to free any of them, for.. as strange as it was, they were obviously lawfully restrained. However, she didn't like them pelted with rocks for no better reason (And, since there was no official stoning, there was no good reason) than a child being bored. While she was content simply standing there with arms crossed and a displeased gaze, that was more than enough to make most men think twice... one way or the other she was content patiently ruining this kind of fun for the urchin before progressing to the smith.

To him she nodded with a smile at the recognition.. though thought better than to do her proper military introduction, simply nodding her head. "Aye. I'm Sylvia Eichendorf, a warrior.. and a warrior that found herself opposed to the men-turned-beasts. Sadly, they resist my axe as if their hides were made of stone. I heard you can help with a purer metal against the cursed wolfs." At this point she pulled her large axe from her back. Simple mass production, but good quality, with the insignia of a falcon at the base.
"This is the only thing I know to wield proper, though if it's too much to ask, a handaxe would be better than nothing. I'm afraid I don't have much gold to spent, but I don't need a pretty weapon, I need one that, with every time I swing it, makes the wildernis safer for those traveling it." She said, with genuine conviction. "I'd guess that you have no love for these wicked creatures yourself."

Intimidation for pebble-thrower:
Roll(1d20)+4:
9,+4
Total:13

And I figured why not try doing a persuasion roll on the smith for the price, aka just a charisma check aaand.. well, this one happened:
Roll(1d20)+1:
20,+1
Total:21
 
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BlueSlime

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Vallaki - Town Square

Sylvia stood in front of the small boy, her physical form towering over the obvious non-combatant.

The boy scrunched up his face at her and continued to pick up pebbles, and a few larger rocks.

"You're ugly. Girls aren't meant to 'ave muscles!" The boy said in a scratchy, weaselly voice. "You can stand there all day if you want. I'll just come back when you leave."

The boy stuck his tongue out at her, then backed away with his handful of stones, going over to the fence at the edge of the square, and checking to see what she might do.

---

Afterward, she noticed that Grygori the smith had a flash of recognition in his eyes as she spoke.

"Ah... yes, the wolfmen. Servants of the Devil." Gyrgori made a strange motions with his hands, touching first one shoulder, then the other, with his left fist, followed by cupping his right hand over his left and pressing his lips to his knuckles. Sylvia couldn't be completely sure, but she believed she had seen a similar movement from Esvele in a quiet moment. Perhaps something to do with this Morninglord religion.

"Be careful in your declarations, Falknovian. There are far too many in this town who support the Devil Strahd and obey his wolf servants out of supplication and fear. You might end up with a knife at your throat while you sleep.... aye, I recognise your accent. My wife is like you - escaped from that wretched hellhole after the Talons put her whole family on pikes for no reason at all."

Gyrgori shook his head.

"Yes, I can put silver across your axe edge. But the process and the materials is difficult and silver is not exactly in the highest quantity here. I'm afraid the process would normally cost about 40 gold, but since I know you've been through a lot - and that you intend to use it against the wolfmen, I'll do it for only 20 gold. It will also take at least a full day, so during that time, you won't have the weapon on you. Is that satisfactory?"
 

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Sylvia
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Ireena, Smithery!


"Then I'll simply return to stand in your way soon. I've got little else to do." She cared little for the plights of the wicked nun and only somewhat symphatized with the vicious tiefling.. and Ireena was safe, after all. She basically could do whatever she pleased, hunting down the wolfs was just an innate desire of hers... as was protecting the locked up, rediculoued prisoners from undue punisment.

"Huh. you recognize my homeland. Esvele would owe me a bet, if that woman held to any such concepts of honor that was." She mused, then added: "Now listen, if your wife was punished, indubitably she ad properly broken some law. Falknovia punishes only the guilty... unlike those beasts that hunt innocents.

Well, I -hopefully- can deal with not having the weapon on my for a day, thats not the issue. The 20 gold is I have about a quarter of that.. you wouldn't happen to need any jobs done to help convince you of a lower price? I'm little more than a lowly soldier, but good at what I can do.."
Sylvia offered. Truthfully she knew little of smothing. "I mean I could give you a downpayment now and promise upon my honor to repay the rest, but you have little reasonn to trust me, ofc ourse.... " She sighed, then decided to add:

"Let us say that I know of individuals who are afflicted by the werewolfs bite. They insist on having faith in the papacy, but, should that faith in such superstitions be misplace..." She hinted, hesitantly.

 
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BlueSlime

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Gyrgori's Smithy

The boy wandered off, but with beady eyes glared at Sylvia over his shoulder, obviously not so much cowed as he was deciding to get creative with his intent to torment. Sylvia noticed a guard peering at this from the far side of the square, but he did not seem intent on intervening one way or the other.

Later, as her conversation with Grygori deepened, she saw the mustachio'd man shake his head sadly.

"No, I'm afraid I won't believe you over my wife's first-person account. You are a soldier you say. The only caste in Falkovnian society to not be tormented. So frankly, if you believe that the law in your homeland is just, then you have deluded yourself. I trust my wife, and she swears upon her soul that this is true, and I believe her, for she has never truly gotten over it.

"She was only 14, working as a scullery maid at Drakov's summer palace in the Upper City of Silbervas, on the eastern shores of Lake Kriegvogel. She had come home one afternoon to find the Talons at her family door, insisting to her mother and father that they had to pay their tax. But the family had already paid it, scraping nearly all that they had to meet with demands. The soldiers laughed, and said that Drakov had decided to have a feast that night, and it was every citizen's duty to give what they had. If they could not provide gold, then they would provide a body. My wife's father volunteered to go, knowing that he would die upon Drakov's stakes, but my wife's older brother - a lad of 16 - could not contain himself at this injustice. Against the father's wishes, the boy struck the guard. For that, my wife's entire family were taken. My wife was shocked and ran back to the palace, where the other maids advised her to not admit to being a member of the family. Later that night, my wife watched as Lord Drakov dined to the sounds of her family's death wails, as they were impaled slowly on long wooden stakes. To this day, she still wakes screaming from night terrors, seeing this scene over and over.


"She resolved to flee the country, despite knowing that to be caught was a death sentence. Drakov, for no reason other than sadism, consigned her family to death. And those who worked at his palace know that he demanded an impalement every night. How can a woman like you, who pauses to prevent rocks being thrown at prisoners, say that Falkovnia acts in the name of justice? In truth, it is anything but."

The smith leaned on his counter, his fists white-knuckled as he had pressed them firmly against the wooden surface with such force as he had told this story. Even having not lived through it personally, it was clear to see that he believed in it.

"As for jobs..." he sighed, losing his intensity for a moment. "I'm afraid I cannot afford to do this work for free. There are people with disposable income in town who might sponsor you. Urwin Martikov at the Blue Water Inn is a friend and a relatively well-off tradesman. Father Lucien sometimes has work for the church. Lady Wachter is a wealthy land owner who sometimes pays for tasks to be done. And the Baron himself might be willing to pay for help in setting up his new festival."

He grunted and pointed to the people in the stockade.

"Their only crime was to complain that the last festival wasn't of any use. The Baron and his enforcer, Izek Strazni, overheard it and put the families into the stocks. Do you really think laws are always just?"
 

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Sylvia
Townsquare,Smithery,
Tag:Grygory


"I'm.. not of the military anymore persay, as much as a smith can say he wont work with iron anmor.. perhaps taxing your spouse would help... well certain troubles there my mind couldn't put into words Sylvia admitted. .. I mean. Everyone has to pay taxes, for the good of the empire, just look at this wretched place filled with monsters. "

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "I know.. Drakovs punishments are just but.. sometimes.. esxcessively hard. but.. witthout some command, without such order, what is there left for me? Order, obediance and good deeds go hand in hand. those that violate oaths and fight their princilpes are easily, so those that follow the, eve if they aren't.. completely... perfect, have to be good, whate other way is there!" she complained "There has to be a ay to tell right from wrong, else you are no better than those you fight! .. Oh and go with that nonsense of faith and magic and morninglords suspersitions. If they held any strenght these lands would not be so deary!

She sounded quite angry, though more the anger of someone having the foundations of her morals shaken.
"I'm certain your family had dserved their fate, somehow. What are you saying, that my whole life and dedication to fighting for justice is poinltess.. I'm sure other folks cn cover my weapon with silver'!" She complained, clearly born from mental disassociation more than actual dislike for Grogory.
The, after a long moment, her warrior form towering even amost over the strong wmith, sighed dejectedly. "I have no right to talk. I'd rather flee and live than stand my ground and die a pointless death but.. what does that make me. deserter. coward. worthless. ..enough melancholy. to my axe."

"Ugh, the innkeeper has me fetching wine. risky in self but far from a heroic quest. At least the nun would be easily motivated. I am.. not a festival person. What more can you tell me of this lady Wachter?"


She looked over to the stockades. Her first instinct was to say yes. but that instinct had also exalted the Falkons regime. "It's lawful. But I don't want to stand b
y when evil punisments are executed. Silencing dissenters is no different from Tyranny.. and a part of me wonder if I haven't done that long enough." And with a distracted nod, she decided to approach the stocakde. If there has been any guards closeby that would make for an interestig chat too..
 
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"Blaming the victims will not make things right, young woman." Grygori said, "But only you can determine what cause you fight for. I simply say that if you have been fighting for Drakov, then you have not been fighting for justice. You have been, perhaps, misled. It does not mean that going forward, you will be unable to fight for what is right. Simply allow your instinct, not your commanders, to inform you of the truth. Perhaps it is here, in Barovia, that you can find atonement."

He looked down at Sylvia's weapon and pointed to it.

"Anything that alleviates pain and brings good cheer to the people should not be so easily dismissed - but as for the Lady Wachter. She is a noblewoman. Rumor is that she intensely dislikes Baron Vallakovich, and that the feeling is mutual, but the Baron dares not attack her with his guards, for fear of testing her supporters. Tensions are running high at the moment. The Baron continues to tell us that "All will be well" if we just be happy enough. But forced festivals... ah... hem...."

There was the shuffling of padded ring mail armor as several guards walked by, carrying their pikes, and behind them was the towering individual - the human man with the large axe and strange arm that looked as though it were mutated flesh with a monstrous claw that he rested atop the head of a cruel looking battle axe.

"A-as I said, the going price would be twenty gold. But I'm certain if you are looking for good coin, you can try hunting wolves in this area and trading the meat and furs in for coin at the markets. Certainly this wonderful festival that is coming up would be a great time to sell your wares. In the meantime, I'll anticipate the need for the right materials and I'll set them aside for you."

The tall, muscular man - obviously in charge - walked up to Sylvia.

"You are new arrival, yes?" the man asked in an incredibly thick Barovian accent. It was clear that he did not speak Common fluently.

"You make no trouble, yes? I see you near stockades. Should keep distance. What is purpose here? What are you trading?"

Behind the guards, Sylvia could see the boy with the stones wandering back towards the people in the stocks.
 

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Vita the tiefling warlock, currently dressed
Blue Water Inn - Taproom
Tags: Ireena, Rictavio


Holding the wolfsbane in hand and feeling that itch. Vita mumbled softly "Is it suppose to itch..?"

While speaking about Strahd, Vita took Ireena's rebuke in stride. "Then you have spoken aloud and all know your answer." Vita replied with surety and sadness. Ireena holds the same burden as her. Similar and different. Her own words of chatisement filled her with pride and, the tiniest amount of envy. If someone had asked her of that, well, she'd do what she did at the bonegrinder.

"Not move? Then that means I need to be ah quick." Vita pursed her lips as she said that before hurrying with a quick step.

...

The tiefling stood in front of him, as she held the glasses of wine, balancing the plate holding the wolfsteak in the crook of her elbow and having it rest on top of her left breast.

"Thank you for being willing to spare a few then." Vita smiled at him, tail slightly swaying as she walked into the room, an unconscious sway added to her hips as she sat on the bed. She gave a small glance at the monkey as the creature wearing a hat! (OOoh! Its wearing a hat. How did it get such a cute red hat?) She quickly did a list in her mind of things to ask from the half-elf as he got to the bed. She balanced the wolfsteak in her lap and held in her

Vita sat on the bed for a soft moment, getting her confidence together as she started speaking, "To be um clear about this, I wish to speak to you about the matters downstairs without uh, any interruptions from her." As she took a small breath and looked at him. "M'names Vita and I am on a quest of retribution against the werewolves." She introduced herself as that to give him knowledge of her.

"I come to you to seek your expertise on the werewolves. I do this from how you had on hand wolfsbane to just freely give. Um, ah" She stammered there before continuing softly "Is it freely given? If not, um, what would you take as uh payment for that bundle?"

Her tail nervously moved on the bed.
 
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BlueSlime

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Blue Water Inn - Rictavio's Bedroom

When Vita chose to sit on the bed, Rictavio instead chose to take the seat at his writing desk. He put the bag that he had received from Danika onto the desk as well and then moved to the door and pushed it closed, locking it with his key before putting the key in his pocket.

"Yes, you're right to want to talk of these matters without being disturbed." the half elf said returning to his seat and looking across the room at her. He leaned forward, resting his hands upon his walking cane, which was stylish and presumably a part of his performance.

"I believe you are sincere about your quest to defeat werewolves, but retribution can be a dangerous thing. For instance... how long ago were you bitten? You said it itched, and your fingers are starting to get red. Wolfsbane is hyper-allergenic to both lycanthropes and those who are infected with the pathogen of lycanthropy. I passed it to you to see what your response would be. A true lycanthrope would recognise it and not wish to pick it up. You did. and yet you still feel its effects.

"My dear girl, you have been infected by lycanthropy, and I must know how long ago, and if you have yet experienced the Change? It is a Wednesday today, on Friday night, the moon will be full. If you kill anyone under the curse of lycanthropy, the path to curing you will be far more difficult."


Rictavio looked at her intensely.

"I require no payment other than information and your discretion, young woman."

He eyed the way Vita's tail swished slowly over the bed covers.

"I have lost a wife to the creatures of the night. And a child. I'm afraid, I simply wish to honor their memories and let my stories guide people to better fortune than myself young woman. I need no payment." He remained stoic, trying to let any judgement or rebuke show on his face.
 

Pervy

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Sylvia
Townsquare,Smithery,
Tag:Grygory, Wank-master guardcaptain


A part of her wanted to simply swing that axt right up at Grygories neck. DRAKOV IS JUSTICE!
At least, that's what she'd been told, countless hours. Instead, she shook her head and cracked her neck, an intensity entereing her eyes all of a sudden. "All my life. I've learned NOT to trust my instincts, because my instincts tell me to rend those weaker than me and I've used discipline and order to keep them in check. Without any of that, if.. as a part of me always suspected not -all- teacthing fo Lord KingFührer are untouchable, then what is left for me. My instincts, certainly, are the last thing I can trust. " She half-growled at the man, not even meaning to inimidate him right now. But all her soldiers life, this disciplined had kept darker, bloodlusier urges at bay, bottled deep down... with a bit of hesitation, she left the man with her large axe, and five gold. . "Quarter the money as downpayment. to help you get started. I promise I'll get the rest somehow, on my warriors honor. I can fight well enough with a handaxe.. perhaps I will meet with this Lady Wachter if you can show the way and she is less. special than the baron... I really don't see myself carrying wine to dull the senses of this defenseless populus even further. 'tis a crime."

She exhaled heavily when the guardsmen passed by, turning. On reflex, she salluted to the leader and accurately answered, with a bit of struggle.. with a mother-tongue of falknovian and a few bits of Darkonian there was little common ground to be found.: "I arrived a few hours ago, sir. " Well, she had defied authority when she ran from Darkov. She was really not sure were to go now. Her soldiers instincts demanded she stand at attention and answer until dismissed. But by all she had been told... that was wrong. And her instincts.. well, they demanded fight or flight. She decided to answer the easier questions first.
"I came here to request Grygory empower my Axe with Silver to fight the wolf-men threatening these lands. I apologize sire, for I cannot answer to my purpose.. I'm not yet crtain myself. I considered joining the guard, honestly, I'm a capable soldier, able to follow orders.. However..." She looked over to the stockades and exhaled deeply. This was not her soldiers training, nor the wild bast raging in her. What was it? She had to be loyal to something!
"These prisoners are imprisoned because they were not jolly enough hmnn?" Perhaps it'd be easier if they had been impaled by spikes, but with Grygoris words fresh in her mind..
She mused.. this was wrong and weird, to her.. disobeying law.. to do good? "I apologize, but I'd like to have these people fred from the stockade rather than peltered by rocks.. it just.. it's wrong. I mean.. what is the term of their sentence?" She said, respectful, if half-sure herself, though not backing off, despite the intimidating guard capain which was likely even larger than the warrior herself.
"Have they not suffereed enough? Just what crime are they accused of?"
 
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"Lectured on how clergy conduct themselves by someone who murdered clergy because her invincible Lord Falkface thought they were scary," Esvele muttered under her breath as Sylvia got up. "If only she were as well-versed in hats as religion. And what's wrong with me enjoying my cups? Good Martikov even said it himself, we Barovians like our drink. Nothing unusual about it," she said, even as she was draining her third pint of it dry.

"I swear, I never should have stopped for those two. It's been nothing but trouble since then." The nun sighed, staring into the bottom of her mug. "We could have handled those, mm, bandits without her, right?" the nun asked, looking across the table at Ireena, but almost immediately she grimaced, thinking back to Sylvia's contribution in the fight. With Morgantha as well, at that stupid hat of hers had spent its time trying to kill her had freed her up to dog Morgantha all the way to the windmill, which in turn had kept her from hexing them all to ruin. Though she would have rather avoided it, she'd half-expected to be forced into a confrontation anyway, and they'd all come out alive, so it wasn't the most disastrous thing that could have happened. At least her heart was still in her chest, and her eyeballs weren't squeezed into one of those abhorrent bottles they'd kept in that spice cabinet they'd had.

"Ugh. Well, I suppose we ought to wait for Vita. Let's hope the Father will be in need of some assistance at the parish."
 
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Ireena shrugged at the half-rhetorical questioned aimed at her.

"I'm not in a position to judge. I think what's important is that we've made it to Vallaki. We made it past the gates of Barovia in the shadow of Castle Ravenloft, and we've survived a night in a witche's den. It's a sign of the Morninglord's Providence. So long as the holy sanctuary of St. Andral's church is here, then I guess I can be safe and wait out the Devil's attentions. At least that is my hope. And you will be able to return home to Krezk. It is a place I've not been to, though the Abbey of St. Markovia was said to be a mighty fortress. Do you think it might be safer if I were there? This experience with Vita has opened my eyes up to the Light... perhaps I should more actively seek the guidance of the Morninglord and take up the cloth? What do you think, Sister?"
 

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Vita the tiefling warlock, currently dressed
Blue Water Inn - Rictavio's Room
Tags: Rictavio


The deluge of answers that rained and poured from his lips had her freezing in her spot. Freezing with her tail stopping its swishing on the clothe of the bed as she stared at him.

Her face frozen in a rictus of... something. To outsiders looking at her, Vita's face is frozen. As if breaking at any moment. The tiefling answering on auto-pilot. Her words tumblings from her lips with no emotion to them. Not yet. "I was bitten day at least ago. On travelling to here on the road on the high bridge where I and my friends ran into bandits that were werewolves in disguise. I received my bite then as did my travelling companion and seeker from the abbey, Esvele." Her minds-eye sharpened into focus as she remembered that bite. The feeling of the itch on her hands. "I have not experienced any change." The last part said quietly.

The emotions bubbling inside, one pierced upwards through her shock breaking through the glass. Fracturing the frozen as she stared at him. "Wolfsbane... Wolfsbane detects by harming. That means... That means I'm..." Her thoughts tumbling in her mind, the tiefling crouching on herself. Taking deep breaths. She already had this panick attack. She wasn't going to break down. Instead... Instead this IS gladdening news. She knew now she could not put off visiting the priest here who would hopefully have the cure. If not, then she knew what must be done. Straps and chains to hold her down.

She slowly unbent from her awkward position of clutching herself. Her mug of wine she brought up here for herself knocked on the floor from her panick. "This is. Thank you for offering me the wolfsbane then. I wasn't entirely sure I was infected but now that I am... Is the priest here in Vallaki strong enough to cure me of the infection? And... do you mind if I leave to go check on my friend Esvele and ask her to touch the wolfsbane to see if she too suffers?" She asked his permission to leave, after all, he had just locked the door and she did not blame him. He no doubt thought of her as a beast hiding in a sultry maiden's skin that would try to kill him.

She sat on the bed, still slightly hunched over. "Ah um, thank you the guidance... what would be ah necessary to erm, keep myself tied down and unable to escape from my bounds during a full moon?"
 
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Blue Water Inn - Rictavio's Room

The half-elf picked up the wine container calmly and set it on the table. Then he rung out a wet cloth in the water basin and applied it to the spillage. He let Vita have her little spell of shock, and soon enough she had gotten over it, answering his questions. He then nodded and put the wine-sodden cloth aside, returning to his seat and picking up his cane once more.

"Yes. It means you are indeed infected - but there is good hope for you. If you have not changed and not slain another under the effect of the hybrid form, then the curse has not yet had time to fully take effect. I know of a man, a doctor, who has studied the disease of lycanthropy in great detail. He has knowledge of undoing the curse - but the most important aspect of it was that the curse can be removed by most priests if it is treated on hallowed ground. You and possibly this Esvele should seek the priest of this town, and see if you can have the curse and pathogen removed from your system."

He looked at the door and gestured to it. "I would advise you to test your friend as well, and then seek out the cure quickly. When fighting werewolves, the disease is the most terrifying thing, not the possibility of death. If you should undergo the change, seek heavy normal chains and a sturdy fixture, and try to be in a cell of some sort. Silver chains would be best, but such things are hard to find, outside of an experienced hunter."
 

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Vita the tiefling warlock, currently dressed
Blue Water Inn - Rictavio's Room; Blue Water Inn - Taproom
Tags: Rictavio then Esvele


Hearing his words and they are reassuring indeed. Still she couldn't afford any silver chains at this moment. "Thank you. Thank you." Vita just spoke those words with relief. He confirmed to her the same method of curing that IS mentioned by others.

"Erm, I... don't want to cut this short but after learning I'm infected, I want to be healed of it as quickly as possible." As Vita looked at the wet clothe and basin. She picked up the mug from the ground, checking it over to make sure nothing is broken before looking at the calm half-elf with his cane.

"If you need any help that I am able to give, please don't hesitate to ask." As the tiefling stood up from the bed, her tail raising up with her and swaying within easy reach of the monkey as she bowed before him. Her heavy breasts pendulously straining against her armor as she spoke "Thank you again." Her effusive gratitude as she straightened herself up and headed to the door.

Questions and other things making her pause right at the exit "Erm, will you still be around to talk? Perhaps later tonight?" She questioned. Leaving after she got her answer with a polite "Thanks again."

...

Blue Water Inn - Taproom

Vita came back down the stairs, looking around for Esvele and Ireena.

If she saw Esvele, she walked over to where the nun sat. "Esvele. Touch these herbs and tell me if they irritate you or not." She brusquely asked as she pulled out the itchy irritating herbs, her fingers burning from touching them but she ignored the minor irritation. "If they burn then that bite you got." Vita letting the implication linger before breathing out in a fast exhalation "alsohavethewolfmandiseaselikeme." Her words pressed together really quick and fast. "Erm. The irritation means infection." She tried again.
 
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