Quiet Fucks – Mid-afternoon, Elven Camp
Three elves approach from the fire circle, a woman and two men. They are dressed similarly, in dirty leather armour, carrying bows and short blades, though one of the men instead has a broad tipped spear strapped across his back. “Greetings,” woman speaks gruffly, strolling forwards confidently, eyeing first Ela then Lumi. “Sister, welcome to our tribe. And you bring an outsider. She is a Vistani, a servant of Strahd?” The elf who met the pair at the edge of the woods initially stood aside before the trio, but now he nod, “Yes, but she claims to oppose him, and has come to us,”
One of the wolves dozing in the the sun stirs, sniffing the air and taking a few tentative steps towards the newcomers. “Stay back runt, this has nothing to do with you,” an elf barks at them and they settle back down with a submissive yap. “Come sora, we will take you to see Velicia. She lives in the rock,” the elf with the spear offers his hand for Ela, gesturing for her to follow as he heads into the cave.
All the conversations so far have been in Elven, so Lumi gets only vague hints as to the words meaning, but finally the elven woman turns to her, speaking in that crudely accented Common, “You want to try and fight against the king, in his castle?” she draws a short blade and tosses to the human, “Show us how you fight,” As she steps back, three other elves advance upon Lumi, and with a growl the two wolves stretch, their flesh shacking, warping. The fur recedes, as if being pulled back into the skin, limbs elongate, hair grows on their head. Two elves stand, a man and a woman, naked, speaking in elven to their companions, “She's tricky. She never carried a weapon, just darts. Our háno believes she is a mage,”
“The pack will test you,” the woman declares, the five elves forming a circle around the Vistani.
Fairy Maiden – Mid-afternoon, Village of Barovia
“Yeah, they convinced what you have isn't worth two coppers to rub together, but as soon as they get their hands on it, its worth a prince's random,” Ireena spits distastefully, “I'm sure they got the better of me on a few of those deals, but overall I traded well. Thanks for the advice, it helped. Get a veil like that for me? I'm not sure, it does look very Vistani. It looks good on you, especially with the silk you already wear, but my clothes are a little rougher. Though I do have a red silk dress, maybe it would look nice with this,”
Ireena hugs her knees, listening to Miri's speech, enamoured. “That was beautiful,” she clambers to her feet, giving the aasimar a tight hug. “I think you're right. I will honour my father's memory, but I....I know he'd want me to enjoy life, to go on. Though, that does require shacking the shadow that haunts me. Let's go and get that Sunsword,”
Back in the village Ireena heads for the square. In The Blood of the Vine she tells the people of the supplies she has succeed, and checks how the clearing of the dead is coming along. Most bodies have been burned, the ashes of the pyres being swept up. Three building seem so corrupted that they will need to be burned, but the rest have been reclaimed. There is some debate on the logistics of a controlled fire, with plenty of varying opinions on how to best handle it.
Leaving the tavern, Miri and Ireena head for the Bildrath's Mercentile, inquiring about a sword. The owner is unsure what he has in stock weapon-wise, all he recalls offhand, aside from an assortment of hunting and wood carving knives, is a pair of west coast longswords, functional in design but nothing pretty to look at, and an elven scimitar, the hilt made to resemble a fish, the glade protruding from its gaping maw. On Ireena's insistence he has his nephew check the back room. The sandy haired youth returns after 10 minutes looking very surprised, carrying a beautifully crafted longsword. The weapon is ancient, and has the harmless nicks of a blade that has served many an owner faithfully. The guard is a steel edition of the rising sun, a screaming skull cracking at the centre as the light purifies it. The hilt is wrapped with smooth dark hide, and the hilt another miniature sun. “Well, this is quite the weapon,” Bildrath declares, every bit as shocked as his nephew. “Just look at the craftsmanship! I think 250 silver is a fair price,” he mind is racing, and as soon as he says the number he grimaces slightly, as if worried the price was too low. “But you didn't even know you had it!” Ireena protest. “But I do. Just because I forgot about it doesn't mean it isn't my property, and I have already given my wares freely to aid the village. 250 silver for this fine weapon, it would sell for double that in the Vistani camp,” he says firmly.
