[IC] The Curse of Strahd

[CajunRobinHood]

Howls in the Night

After days of following the Delimbiyr River east of Daggerford, the snow-dusted Sword Hills rise over the horizon. A wind cuts through the passes, carrying a wolf’s howl that seems to echo from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Among these lonely hills lies your destination—a forgotten hamlet called Kazan’s Rest. You come answering a crudely inked notice calling for knights, sellswords, and any with courage enough to face the dark. For six months now, a choking fog has crept from the Misty Forest with each full moon. When it lifts, only paw prints and missing children remain.

The road turns to packed mud as you near the village. Roofs sag under the weight of snow, and every shutter creaks in protest of the wind. Somewhere, a door slams, and the few lamps still burning gutter in their glass. The one building of stone—a low tavern—spills faint light through cracked shutters. Inside, a dozen gaunt villagers huddle near a weak fire, whispering prayers or names.

The air reeks of smoke, wet fur, and fear.
What do you do?

[Neziul]

The journey had been far better at the start. Gawzarth was happy enough following the Delimbiyr River. And swimming in the Delimbiyr River. And catching fish for his party in the Delimbiyr River. But soon his mood soured, and his efforts to do anything for anyone, even himself, minimized to only what was absolutely necessary.

As they ascended the Sword Hills, his crankiness increased proportionally the cold. When he wasn't angrily snapping at the others out of sheer annoyance with the loss of heat, he was yawning too much or drowsily falling behind step. When a fire was built the massively muscular lizardman stayed close enough to it to nearly cook himself alive. And all of this despite the heavy fur cloak he'd made from the skin of a bear.

With the appearance of actual snow he had nearly raged out, as if the weather was just another enemy who he could fight. And he wished that it was. He would have slain it. Eventually he grew grew jumpy, almost paranoid, as his lethargy increased and he found himself constantly adrift between extremes of half-sleep and hyperalert agitation. Even Kealsha, who he'd known the longest and whose dedication to martial prowess had always earned her a clear respect in the proud tribal warrior's eyes, found herself on the receiving end of the frustrated reptile's aggressive outbursts.

By the time they had reached the tavern at Kazan's Rest, the hulking scaly brute was desperate and bestial as he had ever been. Uncivilized at the best of times, he occasionally lucked into a severe and alien charm which grew on folks. But that version of himself was currently buried beneath layers of exhaustion and extreme discomfort. With all of his fading strength he hurried ahead of the rest of the group at the sudden prospect of warmth.

Like a furious wind, the tall slab of reptilian muscle burst through the door and wordlessly clamored toward the mild fire, growling fiercely at the villagers and making room for himself before it's disappointing flame. He quickly decided that the fire needed more fuel and took it upon himself to add more firewood and using the druidcraft cantrip to ignite it before adding even more wood. He ignored everyone and everything as he single-mindedly focused on his own personal quest for warmth and soon turned the weak fire into a powerful blaze. Squatting before the newly rising flames with hands out he became almost like a statue, soaking in as much heat as he possibly could. Though his tail still subconsciously whipped at the floor like an irritated housecat.

[MooiEen]

Kealsha had always hated staying still, the repetitiveness of routine. That fit completely with her favour for adventure, risks, fighting, all of the fight for the fair outcome that ended up being her job. Still young for a Tiefling, her fingers always itched to do something, hit something, play with something, and travelling usually fit that. But not this journey, day after day of only walking, barely exchanging a few words with the party, even if they had some fun. But something was lacking, too much silence and too few scraps for her liking. Her body ached for some use and some movement other than travelling.

But thankfully, they were finally reaching some kind of destination. It was about time to get somewhere, and Kealsha fought a smile while they walked the last meters for the biggest and only stone building of the small village. She could already smell the food, feel the excitement of somewhere new, of news to be found. And oh, the mead! Her heart craved some fun. Maybe even try to play some cards with the villagers. Or, to hell with it, even cheat at the cards!

It was time to leave the snow, and the crankiness of the great lizard, behind. Her mate unfortunately didn't like the cold, and the weather hadn's been to his liking, leaving him restless, worried, even paranoid. And that meant being far too close to the receiving end of an insult, a death stare, a kick or even a weapon, the unfortunate times that Kealsha had tried some kind of joke. Tough crowd, this one, not easy to laugh while even your snot could be freezing. But thankfully that door opened, and the noise of the tavern promised also the warmth of good food and a small fire.

She wasn't as desperate for the fire as the reptilian, but Kealsha had her own priorities. She still kept her eye on the lizard, but made her own way to the bar, sitting on one of the stools before removing her cloak, showing just a tad more of her reddish skin, unbothered by the looks she may get. As if the horns and her amber eyes kept anything about her heritage hidden. Trying to get the attention of someone from the service here, she waited taking a look around, her eyes roaming the room, analysing it just enough to have enough information to choose if she was staying sober tonight or not, and with who. Unfortunately, the place seemed much more boring that she had been hoping, and decided to try and see where it may go. Maybe today was a day of sobriety, and maybe it was better to bet against some villagers and get just enough gold for more mead in the longer run. She'll see, oh, decisions, decisions. For now, she'd keep warming up, waiting for the others to also have some rest before deciding the important things

[CajunRobinHood]

The sound of the slamming door cuts through the quiet of the tavern like a knife through butter, and the sight of the hulking lizardfolk sends the villagers scrambling away from the fire in fright. As the barbarian begins tending to the fire rather than attacking as they expected, the villagers relax slightly and slowly make their way back to the blazing flame he created. Each of these underfed and sleep-deprived peasants inspect Gawzarth as best as possible with their peripheral vision, and in their sidelong glances you see a mixture of fear, suspicion, grief, and hope. Are you raider, kidnapper, mercenary, or hero?

The fire crackles and pops as the firewood splits, sending a shower of sparks over those ravenously absorbing its heat. One such man gathers his muddy cloak and meager courage, and hesitantly approaches the lizardfolk, taking care to not step on the tail whipping to and fro, "Have you traveled far, friend? I can't remember the last time one of your ilk visited our lonely little village. Are you passing through, or perhaps seeking gainful employment?" As the graybeard finishes his gently probing, you detect a hint of hope at the end.

Behind the bar of this tavern is a middle-aged woman with a dark complexion, long brown hair, and wearing clothes whose colors immediately grabs your attention. While most of the tavern's occupants are dressed in dirty furs, hides, and dull canvas; the barkeep and two others in the tavern are adorned with fine purple silks, vibrant red sashes, and gleaming gold and silver jewelry. As Kealsha removes her cloak revealing her infernal features, a small glass of watery, dark purple wine is placed before her. "First one's on the house, stranger. All I ask in return is a tale from your home. It's clear from your...exotic appearance that you are not from this area, else I'd surely have heard of you. I am Lucia Salazar, and you are?"

A broad-shouldered man with greasy black hair separates from the huddle around the fire and begins walking toward the door, clearly intending to shut it against the chill of the night. His heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins can be heard even over the roaring fire. His brightly colored clothes are draped in loose folds about him, and his hat hangs askew, veiling his eyes with shadow. He stops at the doorway, hand grasping the door handle and peers out into the darkness, looking to see if any other strangers are preparing to enter the tavern before he closes the heavy wooden door.

[Neziul]

"Mmmm..." Begins the squatting lizardman in response to the bearded one with boldness enough to speak. Such things as courage deserved respect at least. Especially among the common folk of this world who were often all too easily cowed. But still the barbarian seemed busy focusing on the fire as if he could drink up it's radiating heat like a mug of ale by doing so. "Far... Yes... Too far. Too far from the warm lowlands where the movement was easier... Lucky for you I travel with the girls... Not so lucky for me."

Then, out of nowhere, Gawzarth suddenly turned his razor sharp alligator grin towards the man who had spoken, facing him with a tilted head and an insane look. It was one swift, fluid motion. Probably unexpected by either of them, for he did it unconsciously. And then he complained like a squawking pterodactyl, "These females will bring death to me before it is the season of my end."

Of course on the surface his face was wild and animalistic. Even mad looking. But examine him a bit longer, and you will find a surreal aspect of the human within his reptilian nature. An uncanny liminal space where the jungle beast appeared soulful and intelligent, even if it were in a savage way.

"Gainful employment, perhaps..." he echoed the mans words back to him before adding a few words of his own. He spoke with the cold, unbeatable confidence of a truly proud tribal warrior. "We have come in response to Arrigal's notice. If something unnatural is going on, we can restore the balance."

[CajunRobinHood]

The hope swells in the old man's eye as Gawzarth provides the reason for his presence, but before he can reply, the reptilian will feel a light touch on his shoulder. If Gawzarth were to turn at the touch he'd be able to see the same broud-shouldered, colorfully dressed man that had shut the tavern door, silently stepping back a polite distance.

"It seems I am the one you seek." The stranger shares a crooked smile while bowing slightly and continuing, "I am Arrigal of the Vistani, and I was contracted by this village to end their sorrows."
After Arrigal finishes his introduction, he walks toward the fire, and you can once again hear the sound of his boots on the floor and coins in his pocket. An experienced warrior such as Gawzarth would have noticed immediately that while he had easily heard the man walk to the tavern door, and from just behind him to the fire; while the man had been going from the door to just behind the barbarian, he had been absolutely silent. You intuit that either Arrigal used magic to silence his approach, or he could move absolutely silently if he wished.

Arrigal of the Vistani crouches next to the savage lizardfolk, clearly unintimidated by his beastly nature. He takes a silver flask from one of his many pockets and takes a long drink before offering it to Gawzarth.

"Have you tried Champagne du le Stomp? Exquisite and quite rare, please, have some. As I was saying, I was contracted by this village to solve the mystery of their missing children. Unfortunately for them, it is no mystery. The children were stolen by a pack of shapeshifters from a land that is both very near and also impossibly far away. While my people are capable of making the journey and guiding others as well, these villagers are underfed, overworked, and ill-equipped to undertake a rescue mission. Are you alone in answering my call, or do you travel with that tiefling? I also saw two other strangers approaching the tavern, are they with you?"

[MooiEen]

Kealsha raised a careful eyecrow, not used to being treated that well thanks to her appearence, most people mostly reserving their right to coward and run away. "Oh, that is very nice of you, Ms Salazar" she started, taking her time to take a small sip from the drink. It was always good to look and act nice with tavernkeepers, no need to get into trouble with the person serving your food and drink. "I'm afraid there are few tales from my home, or at least few that may be interesting. Here as you see me, I grew up in a common village" she explained, a grin on her face, playing her most charismatic cards. "But I can answer some questions you may have, if I've encountered the answers during out trip. And it's Kealsha, a pleasure to meet you" she extended a hand to the woman.

Even during conversation, the tiefling had an eye on her companion, knowing fully well that they weren't there to only rest. And lucky that she did, a man apparently taking the guilt of taking the adventurers to the place, the comment falling in her ears and making her turn in her seat at the bar. Better to pay attention there, even if she still had part of her mind in her conversation with Ms. Salazar. And she usually preferred to get the lizardfolk to negotiate. Or more like threaten, scare the people away, intimidate a little, only for her to appear to save the poor soul playing the 'good adventurer'. Scared people reacted far better to supposed saviours than people without any other care, so for her it was better to play the nice tiefling right after Gawzarth did his thing. Usually, existing, people were scared easily.

So, shapeshifters, huh? What a mess. And what an uninteresting adventure. And what a weird plan, why would the shapeshifters want kids for? Well, she was being paid for rescuing the kids, not asking questions. And she was not being paid yet, so that was the first thing to do. "We are working together, that's true" she started, making her appearence known, but still not leaving the bar. She took just another sip of the wine, quite nice, and waited just enough to give some drama to the scene. "The others decided to take a look around, didn't mind checking the place before entering. But we are allowed to start talking business, right Gawzarth?"

[KatherinWinter]

Roxy decision to scope out the outside the tavern before going in. It was important to identify all the exits. That way she knew how she could get her small party out of the tavern if there was trouble and where that trouble might come from. She didn't expect to find any traps but she had been wrong before.

While she was perfectly cable of getting out of almost any situation, Roxy didn't know her companion well. She was still learning their strengths and weaknesses. She figured this journey would be a good way to learn to mesh her skills with others. She mostly worked alone.

Satisfied that there wasn't any traps waiting them, Roxy debated going inside. Her skills could be useful but she might be tempted to relieve some idiot of his valuables. The idea made her smile. Maybe she would slip in unseen and get a for the crowd.

[CajunRobinHood]

The bartender sighs as she shakes Kealhsa's hand and says with disappointment, "I suppose we'll have to wait for another time to get to know each other. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time after you finish conducting business." Lucia returns her attention to her duties behind the bar, polishing flagons, refilling the small refreshment bowls, and replacing the empty barrels of wine and ale. Though her back is turned, it's clear from Lucia's body language that she's ready to serve any who approach.

Arrigal takes another lengthy draught from his flask while looking Kealsha up and down as he tries to size her up. Though he can't quite guess her specialty from this first glance, the Vistani man sees a glint of determination in the tiefling's eyes that is rewarded with a slight nod of approval. Jerking his head toward a moonlit booth in a secluded corner of the tavern, Arrigal says politely, "For the sake of the concerned parents gathered here, I'd prefer we discuss specific details privately." He gives Gawzarth a grin and says, "I'm sorry to pull you away from the fire, but this conversation shouldn't take long and the Champagne can keep you warm enough for the interim."

Arrigal relocates to the aforementioned booth where he lights a pipe made of a dark crimson wood and makes himself comfortable. He buries himself into the intersection of the booth and the wall and begins smoking lazily. The light of the full moon illuminates the smoke curling toward the ceiling as the howl of a distant wolf reminds you of the dangers prowling the night.

While Roxy is checking the perimeter of the tavern for traps and other hidden hazards, she'd notice a strange mist creeping in from the edges of the village. The mist stays low to the ground as it winds its way between the poorly constructed homes, but its spread is far from natural. Rather than obeying the whims of the evening breeze or spreading uniformly, the mist seems to extend long, snaking tendrils that are then followed by bulging masses of the fog. The tendrils of mist seem to move intelligently, searching out sources of heat: scattered torches, the heat escaping from beneath doors, even a scrawny dog picking through refuse in hopes of a meal. It was toward the dog that the mist moved most quickly. With tendrils snaking out like ghostly lightning, the mist envelops the dog so quickly all it can do is yelp once. When the mist once again levels out, no sign of the dog remains...

[MooiEen]

"For sure" the tiefling answers, her best smile in place. Bartenders were one of the best friends to keep around in any town, always talking to people, being with others, and handling the most important stuff for men: the drinks. Not a bad ally to have. But now was not the moment to focus on that, a more important task at hand. The look that man gave her was one to try and understand what she could do, weighting her in, exploring her. Well, let the man see what he needed. As long as they received the money, Kealsha didn't care that much about the method.

A jerk of his head indicated Kealsha where to go, and she stood up, taking care of getting her drink, and moved to the booth the man signaled. "Makes sense, though I don't know which kind of task would need this kind of secrecy" Kealsha answered, sitting on the booth and leaning back, taking just another sip before setting her glass on the table. She looked outside for a second, searching for Roxy, not really wanting to start all of this negotiating without the rest of the party. But she still could try to fish some more information.

"While the others get here..." she started, leaning a little on the table. "Let's be honest. This is not exactly the mission that you are talking about, right? Any other team or authority could do that rescue, any other party, no need for the intel to travel as far as to get to us. What is the catch?"

[Mistress Dizzy]

A resounding sneeze announced another visitor at the door. Kassandra had arrived, her dark skin tinted ruddy from the icy air. “My goodness. Is the weather always this way?” Despite being indoors, she kept a thick hood wrapped firmly around her hair and ears. Still, there was a pleasant roundness to her face, bright brown eyes and a ready smile. The sort of person that could start a conversation with a stranger, and end knowing their life story.

She had been attempting to get information from some of the locals. Some people avoided out of towners, while others couldn’t get enough of new faces. She knew how to be very charming, but it didn’t always work. With the winter dark coming so fast, most people wanted to stay home and out of it. She couldn’t blame them.

After stomping the dirty slush from her boots, Kassandra strode quietly toward her companions. “Making friends already? Excellent!” With that, she requested a hot toddy from the bar. Her throat felt dry. Their next task needed to be somewhere warmer, or at least not actively snowing. Once her drink was in hand, she slid beside her tiefling companion in the booth.

[Neziul]

Gawzarth had accepted the drink from Arrigal at the start of the interaction. But he quickly withdrew from active conversation into a stioc silence. Both because he was still physically and mentally perturbed by the lack of warmth, (for although the tavern was indeed much better than the outside, it still wasn't much beyond a meager improvement) and also because Kealsha was a far better speaker than he. As were the bard and even the rogue.

Then when a more private meeting was called for, he grudgingly began his way with all the delay he could muster. He got up slowly. He was tired. And he began to stretch his many muscles. He did this for a few moments before regarding the old one who had initially spoken to him with an approving nod of his head. After some more moments passed he finally pulled himself away from that fire and began walking idly towards the booth.

He looked around the tavern as he dawdled, walking slowly to the moonlit setting arrangement that this Vistani man had pointed out. He appraised the tavern with his senses as he moved through it. He took in as much detail as of his environment as he could.

He felt the disappearing warmth from the fire behind him. He smelled the scents in the air around him. He took note of the smells of food and drink, of place and person. He turned to look at Lucia Salazar with golden slitted eyes before observing the other patrons and assessing their capabilities. He listened to Kealsha talking so business like as he drew closer. And he tasted the stranger's champagne once again as he entered the booth and sat down across from Kassandra, who had just sat down before he did.

[CajunRobinHood]

As Kealsha, Kassandra, and Gawzarth join Arrigal one by one; Arrigal repeats the gesture of offering a swig from his flask while taking in the group as a whole. While he had noticed the tiefling glancing outside the window as if searching for another, she didn’t seem to have seen the elven woman that had been creeping around the tavern. ”So we have a lizardfolk brute, a tiefling wanderer, and a human bard (judging from the instruments she carries. Not exactly the most cohesive group, though perhaps a bit of variety and novelty is what’s needed…” Arrigal ponders briefly before responding to Kealsha’s queries.

Chuckling slightly, he answers, ”Nothing escapes you, does it? Aye, this is no simple mission to track down a few lost children, nor is it simply a wolf hunt in the name of vengeance. These children were not taken by man or beast, but a clan whose members blur that line with every full moon. They hail from an isolated land unknown to most, comprised of a handful of villages enclosed by mountains that scrape the sky and mists that blot out the sun.”

The Vistana pauses to take a few puffs from his pipe, offering this too to the adventurers before him as he lowers his voice and continues. ”You wonder why I prefer to keep the details a secret? It’s because I seek to avoid leading an entire village to their demise. You see, Barovia—from what I understand—is considered a demiplane. A miniature universe unto itself and largely unconnected to the rest of creation. Though my people know the secret of traversing the Mists and entering Barovia, shapechangers are not the only peril that greets newcomers to the land. If I was to explain to these villagers just what horrors are no doubt haunting their children at this very moment, they would insist on being taken there immediately. This sudden injection of flesh blood into Barovia would undoubtedly draw forth all manner of predators looking for an easy meal. If the children are to be saved before the shapechangers can complete their plan, their rescuers must be expeditious and able to evade notice. This is where you come in. The town has scraped together 200 gold pieces to offer as a reward for the heroes willing to follow me into Barovia. I was specifically seeking those strong of limb and mind, for Barovia has a way of breaking both, so tell me: do you have what it takes to stand steadfast against the dark and all creatures of the night? If so, I suggest you avail yourself to the few rooms my cousin has available and rest well for the night. The journey ahead is long and treacherous, and there’s no telling when you’ll next get a full night’s sleep. In the morning I can lead you to the small caravan of vardos my people use to travel through the Mists.”

[KatherinWinter]

Satified that there wasn't an traps Roxy headed into the tavern. She saw her companions chatting with a pipe. She headed over to see if they were ready tk head out. She figured they should have gotten at least some of the information they needed by now. She wasn't worried about the details. One thing she was very good at was adapting. She was confident that her skills would be useful to this odd little group.

Rather sticking to the shadows the way she normal did, Roxy approached the group like she belonged. The action felt strange. She hadn't really belonged anywhere. It wasnt something she thought about often but something about being with a group made her wonder if maybe it was time to consider a partner. Someone who could help her woth the harder jobs. Not that there were many things beyond her many skills.

"Has all the intell been collected?" She asked. Her voice held just sn edge of sarcasm. She was sure they had got the information they needed to start the journey. While she didnt know the group well they seemed competent.

[CajunRobinHood]

@KatherinWinter@Neziul@Mistress Dizzy@MooiEen

Once again, Arrigal offers both his pipe and flask to the newcomer as his eyes lingering on her pointed ears before he answers, "I have explained the basics of this rescue mission, which will involve entering a land crawling with all manner of abominations, undead, and creatures of the night. The journey there will take several days, providing ample time for us to discuss specific details. For tonight, however, I suggest you take advantage of my cousin's cooking, drinks, and spare rooms. It may be some time before you once again have access to such niceties." With that advice given, Arrigal excuses himself and approaches Lucia where they have a brief, whispered conversation. From the few words that carry to the secluded booth where the party has gathered, the two Vistani are discussing the preparation of a small caravan. After they finish their conversation, Arrigal gathers his cloak about himself and grabs a longbow that had been just out of sight behind the bar. With a final nod toward the group of would-be heroes, he makes his way out of the tavern, the mists that now surround the bar parting to allow his passage.

((Feel free to roleplay amongst your characters before you turn in for the night. Lucia is happy to serve you a small selection of wines, ale, and simple but hearty fare. When you're ready to rest, you can wave her over and ask about the rooms offered))

After the party has had their fill of food and drink and are ready to retire, Lucia would guide them through a curtained door next to the bar. As you pass through the doorway, the heavy velvet curtains brush against your skin like the tender touch of a loved one, and you find yourselves in a short hallway that leads to six small bedrooms. Lucia will bring out a keyring that jangles as she passes you each a delicate silver key and showing you each to a separate room. "Please don't lose these in the night, it's quite a bother sending for the keymaker the next town over. People tend to be nervous about visiting this village, and for good reason I suppose. Arrigal asked me to wake you just before first light. He'll be waiting with the vardos just outside the village, at the edge of the tree line; you can't miss it. And one final word of advice that Arrigal wouldn't likely tell you: Barovia's citizens are nearly all human and they have a strong distrust of outsiders. While Kassandra here may get along just fine, the rest of you would do well to mind your manners and keep your head on a swivel." With that final bit of advice, Lucia would excuse herself and leave you to get what rest you can. The night is relatively peaceful other than the wolf howls that grow nearer and nearer, at one point sounding as if they're just outside the tavern. If you look outside a window however, you'd be greeted by nothing more than the ever-thickening mists that have consumed the ramshackle buildings of the village.

((Again, if there's anything you want to attempt during this long rest, let me know. For those of you new to D&D, a long rest is at least eight hours of rest with no more than two hours of light activity, while a short rest lasts an hour. Each provides different levels of resource recuperation))

In the morning you would each be woken by a firm knocking on the doors of your quarters and find a small tray for each with a serving of oatmeal, apples, cheese, and fresh water; along with a note explaining these provisions were provided by the village's grateful parents. As your group leaves the tavern, a chill wind would pierce your clothes and giving you the sensation of pins and needles stabbing your limbs and nibbling at your fingers. The sun has not yet begun to rise though the stars seem to be shrouded by the same mists that blanket the village. There seems to be but one avenue clear of the choking, blinding mists: a muddy path leading the woods that lie just east of Khazan's rest. At the edge of these woods, you see a small caravan of barrel topped wagons adorned in the same manner as the Vistani people that man them: vivid hues of fabric and with silver and gold adorning nearly every available surface. The drivers of these vardos share the same tanned complexion and jet-black hair as Arrigal and Lucia, though they seem to be in a lighter mood than the other two. While Arrigal can be seen staring into the forest with a thousand-yard stare, the rest of the Vistani are gathered near a small fire and sharing steaming mugs of cider. Amongst them you see one woman that immediately stands out: an unbelievably ancient woman with cavernous age lines and startling violet eyes that hold the wisdom of untold decades. Even before you leave the borders of the village, she's noticed you. Her piercing gaze holds your attention as she curls a beckoning finger toward your group.

[MooiEen]

Kealsha nodded along Arrigal's explanation, now understanding better the sense and the need for the mission. She wasn't one to really go head first into this kind of dangers, but she couldn't make that decision by herself. And if she knew something about her companions, it was that they tended to be more interested in adventure than herself. But also that they drew far more blood than their enemies, so she considered it good enough. She'd go with whatever the group decided.

As soon as the old man left the tavern, Kealsha turned again to the group, her face looking down, hiding the conversation from the tavern keeper now that she knew the woman also had to do with this. She had to ask. "Well, so... After that... What are we going to do?" She asked, openly. "Is this the kind of mission we should take? A caravan, such a long trip... I mean, the pay is good, but..." She tried, looking for the others opinion. She is not against it, not completely, but has some respect for that kind of responsibility.

Whatever the outcome of the discussion, she is going to try and enjoy the ale of the tavern, and even the company of Lucia or any other person from the village. She knows it's not easy, and some looks from the others feel more than menacing, but a night of fun is still one of her goals. Judging by the general ambiance of the place, the night will come to an end sooner than she likes, but at a good time for resting enough to start the trip the next day. After the hearty breakfast, Kealsha will have just enough energy to play her cards with the people in the caravan, going to talk to the ancient woman as soon as she beckons her. The devil knows more from his age than his demonic nature, after all.

[KatherinWinter]

Roxy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Kealsha had a valid question. It the mission wouldn't be an easy one, which was exactly why it appealed to her, but it might not as eager to tackle a mission like this. "I'm in. This sounds right up my alley." She loved the thrill of putting her live at risk. She loved proving that she wasn't the fragile 'girl' her parents saw her as. She had never been into the things they deemed appropriate for a female. For awhile her father trained her as his heir but that had changed when one of his mistresses had a son. With a real heir to take over the family business, her father decided she should go back to being the girl her mother wanted. She had refused. She liked who she was. If they didn't that was their problem.

Once a decision was made by the group, Roxy made her way up to the room she was assigned. She pulled her boots off and put them beside they bed where she could easily slip them on if the need arose, not that she expected trouble but she was the sort to always be prepared. She removed her weapons and laid them within easy reach. Last she tucked her sharpest knife under her pillow before stretching out and getting comfortable.