Village of Barovia – Death House
The fog around them felt foreboding to the cleric, and perhaps a bit sinister.
"You there. Children. Should you be out and about in a time like this? Where are your homes?" Lydiane called, her voice stern and feeling almost abrasive against the chill silence of the area.
Glancing at each of the strangers before him, Dalanth interjected and casually asked, "So. You must be the welcoming party, then?"
"We should not tarry..." Andhund looked on to those bewildered starting first with the man who spoke before moving to the woman and her candle, giving her a nod. "... at least not here."
After shushing the boy, the girl turned to the verbose trio and whispered as softly as ebbing laughter,
“There’s a monster in our house!” She then gestured to a tall brick row house that had seen better days. Its window frames now dark icons to the dreaded saints of hell. It had a gated portico on the ground floor, and the rusty gate creaked slightly ajar, intermittently as the mist swirled round about. The dwellings on either side were abandoned, their fissures and doors boarded up. The older sister, Rose, swiveled to the child gripping his faceless doll.
>Rose and Thorn"It scares Thorn."The tribesman heard more of the people speak up. Whatever the other man meant with a 'welcoming party', it was all meaningless drivel to him. They were in a quite possibly hostile environment, and this man spoke of parties. Hah! Nergüi did not even turn to face them, much unlike the old man to speak up next. They made sense, implored them to not wait. He did glance towards this particular figure and even nod, but with their apparent refusal to move further, he returned to his earlier plan, the cold faced woman and the children. Unfortunately the news were not good. There was a house here that they were from, but the indoors would offer no solace for they spoke of a monster in the area. Yet what option did they have? Despite the disturbing disposition of the children, Nergüi opened his mouth and let few words graciously garnished with a heavy eastern accent hang in the cold air:
"A monster?"The sobbing boy huddled deeper within the slightly oversized coat, smothering him imperceptibly with the semblance of a vague warmth, as his cyanotic lips parted.
"Yes... sniff It howls. Terrible screams." The girl seconded,
"We can't go back until the monster's gone." Her attire demonstrated inky laces which hungrily curdled, to one's vivid imagination, as if a certain portion of her cloak's threads had evolved into mindless tendrils, urging the rest of her gothic wardrobe to acquiesce into the shroud's conformity.
The voice of the eldest child continued.
"It keeps Walter, our baby brother, awake all night."A monster keeping children awake? Most likely a fairy tale gone out of control.
"Describe this monster," Lydiane demanded.
"If your brother is simply staying awake and none of you have been consumed and torn asunder, it is hardly a true monster." She waved her hand dismissively, as if she knew a thing or two about monsters that these children certainly could not understand.
"The mists are restless, so evil is afoot. Thus it is their misfortune that this might be more fact than flight of childish fantasy..." The aging half-blood man replied, eyes piercing the mists toward their house, scaling it up and down with their watchfulness. No monster could be overtly seen, let alone heard, but this did not mean it was not there - oh no, quite the contrary. The most frightening monsters were those in the mind, the demons no one else could see. This the man knew well for himself and he feared this was only to be the case, yet here in this village before the two children? There might very well be some beast in the belly of the house, hidden away behind a closet door or bricked into the very work of the structure. Too many secrets - even the wonder of how they all arrived - had convened for this to just be imagination.
"Where in this house is the monster?" The man began, trailing off, certain to not spend more time than needed wandering the encroaching threat.
The children beckoned, chanting in unison,
"Fear forbids us to see. We only hear." Rose yanked her brother behind, as four soft footsteps trotted to the house in question. She glanced over her shoulder wistfully, ensuring the gaze's snare was readied.
Both soon stopped and pointed with their unshackled hands.
>Front View of Death House"There." The gate swung open, almost in conjunction with the girl's statement.
"Our parents are trying to trap it in the basement." The feminine hemlock of a voice answered the final inquiry of the man possessed with maddening eyes.
>Lydiane's Insight of 21: The children truly don't know what the monster looks like but heard its terrible howls. They also seem genuine about their baby brother, Walter, and the suggestive terror demonstrated of the monster is visibly authentic. The duo believes they can't and should not return alone because the monster remains inside, likely a command given by their parents.Children, of course. She had to be welcomed by children. Little ones always reacted to her with either fear or a prodding curiosity. Fear seemed the likely outcome now, given their recent harrowing experience. Illyana thusly turned her gaze away, prospecting the gothic abode before them. What if she wasn't dead? The tome could have transported her without knowledge to a simulacrum. A test. Perhaps the artifact demanded a certain cunning, virtuosity, or charity. In her determination toward this goal, Illyana brushed away her hesitation towards the young ones. Clutching the back of her holy symbol, the amulet started to glow into a bright sunlight. With this beacon lit, Illyana kneeled near the children and gently offered a hand.
"I'll save Walter from this monster, little ones," she said softly, her voice more like soft velvet than her harsh bark-laden exterior. Her smile was positively warm, and her voice calming, even coaxing.
"What are your names, my sweets?"From big to small, each pirouetted in place, taking turns with the formalities afore the Celestial warlock.
“I am Rosavalda Durst. My brother is Thornboldt.” The eager boy loosed the girl’s vise, in order to edge in a few words of his own before her older sister commandeered the conversation once more.
“Rose, my name is Thorn. And this is…” The tiny hands hoisted his prized possession.
“Wither.” The pale doll, riddled with stitching and burns, seemed light and insubstantial, as he passed the keepsake graciously to Illyana. Its eyeless sockets frothed in flimsy indentations, indicating innards of a stained constitution. The once blanche cotton evoked a mild crimson aftertaste to the astute eyes of the tomb raider.
>Illyana's passive Insight of 13: Thorn appears to be presenting the figurine to the transformed half-elf.For a moment, Illyana reached for the doll, but after some hesitation she retracted her hand to her side to leave the cotton man untouched. Something about it unsettled her. It seemed untrustworthy. A simple doll, untrustworthy.
"Wither looks like a good friend, Thorn," she spoke in the same comforting tone,
"But I think you should keep him near. For protection." The children made no shudder, gasp or question to her appearance, despite how her gently writhing tendrils became visible in the light of her holy symbol. Perhaps this was what unsettled her. It gave the children a strange quality, other than the already peculiar behavior they showed. Perhaps it was not beyond this world, but it was beyond hers.
Nergüi took a step back, allowing the woman whose face was colder than the surrounding air speak with the children. Her reaction towards them was equally chilly as she left no doubt in the fact she did not believe the two in the slightest as the monster would already have eaten them if there truly was one. The children did not seem to lose heart at her words however as they began guiding the seven people that had emerged from the mist towards their house. The tribesman wanted none of it, his body and instincts fighting against the very thought of following them further. Despite all his warm clothing, he shivered. But he could not separate himself from this group. They were his lifeline in this strange place. The gates to the house the children called their home opened and they explained that the threat would be in the cellar. Yet more shivers ran down Nergüi's spine as he hoped these people would not be foolish enough to enter. The old man had warned them just as well, yet even they seemed to be following these children. Why? And then there was the case of the bark covered woman with writhing branches for hair, who would speak with all the warmth that had been missing from the other woman's voice. She tried to get along with the two freaky creatures. Well, they had something in common, that being their abnormality. But even she seemed to note something was off about the two. The feeling of dread hung strong at the back of Pisacar's mind, but he still could not bring himself to walk away.
Like a starving brute, the hanging clouds inaugurated its midnight snack, swiftly swallowing up the rest of the visceral village, facilitating the seven to congeal ever closer to the couplet’s invite. Before long, all one could truly decrypt with any logistic certainty of the Durst’s address was the domicile’s external anterior. Aside of the scattered panes easily noted, the dripping architecture of a face bore four stories, with a tattered balcony on the third floor. The extended bent bars frowned and smiled, sideways, from its metal maw, befuddled of the curious interaction colliding below in front of the house. Thorn swept the amputated toy abruptly from the woman's kind reach, heeding that imaginary companionship better accommodated the boy’s lonely imagination. The eyes of the child darted from Illyana and caught a peripheral glance of the approaching dwarf, due to their shared height.
He cautiously motioned for another friend.
“Wither won’t protect us. Can you?”Quoben's face of distant blankness snapped back to attention, as his gaze focused onto the two small children.
"Protect ye?" He whispers, before clearing his throat.
"Of course," he says, his face warming with a gentle grin as he slowly approached the children, gathering his bearings. He looked over the other members of the group, before turning his gaze back to the house.
Rose gleaned the roll call of Jaxson, the apron wearing craftsman, as his apparent pet escaped from the neighboring, hazy veil. Recalling some former wisdom suddenly, she whispered another subpoena,
"Thorn, our parents told us to never to talk to strangers. Remember? We don't even know the rest of their names." Her nostrils promptly inhaled the murky ambiance, awaiting rebuttals, either in kind or amidst empathy.
He turned back to face Jaxson with the same warm grin, before grasping his hand and giving it a few thorough, firm shakes.
"The name's Quoben Lorearthen," he says, introducing himself.
"I'm a smith myself, mostly work with weapons. Nice ta meet ya!" He decided to ignore the fact that Jaxson called him a
"kid", as there were several more important matters afoot, such as the plight of the two children.
"What in the..." Jaxson was caught off guard as Quoben turned to shake his hand. Either he's one real ugly piece of work, or he isn't human. Jaxson quickly shook his head, and gave a smile in return as he shook back.
"Pleasure's all mine, partner! Sorry 'bout that, by the way. Haven't ever met a stout folk before... that's what you are, I reckon?"The girl's admonishment of the boy didn't cause Illyana to recoil, but she politely stood and turned to face the group and the duo at once. As she stood, it became apparent that the glowing apparatus dangling from her neck was an angelic ankh, which seemed to be some strange sort of religious icon left unrecognized by most before her. Above the golden gleam were the warm motes of deep blue about her pupils.
"I am simply Illyana," she said with a greater sense of command to her warmth as she spoke to all. Her accent, now clearly heard by the others, was well-traveled to the point of seeming alien. Even these few words seemed to flow with a cultural tinge so intermixed that she seemed to sound uncanny. She was as foreign as she was familiar. Her sapphire-glinted gaze drifted to the fog which sought to constrain them with voracious hostility.
"It's quite cold," she said with mild chattering of the teeth,
"Now that we're friends, perhaps you can invite us to your home for tea in front of the fire?"The elf ranger's smirk dropped, as the strangers before him failed to return his attempt at humor in kind. Obviously they were not expecting him, or if they were, they weren't the friendly sort. It quickly became apparent to Dalanth, however, that they were strangers, not of this place. As the group turned to approach the children, the elf fell in with them. It seemed the sensible thing to do, given the circumstances. The mist was concerning, what might lie in wait within it more so. Keeping an eye out, he followed the others, his back to the group so he could ensure nothing snuck up on them. That was when he noticed the dwarf and the new human, with the strange skeletal contraption. They didn't appear to be a threat, but he kept his eye on them nonetheless. Until, that is, he heard the children mention monsters in their home. Dalanth's ears perked up at that. As he approached the children to get more information, he overheard them talking to the rest. They didn't know what sort of monster had taken up residence in their home, but it was something that made a lot of noise. Dalanth frowned. It didn't sound like what he had returned for, but it sounded worth investigating nonetheless.
"Hi there, kiddos," Dalanth said, dropping to a knee to get to their level, to make them feel more comfortable.
"I'm Dalanth. You can call me Dal. I'd be more than happy to look into your monster problem.""So now we are to chase fantasies and monsters for children?" Lydiane spoke up with some annoyance.
"For all we know, the monster was fabricated by the parents in order to ward the children from their marriage bed. But no matter; if we are determined to solve this monster issue, then perhaps the house will provide shelter from the fog." Lydiane stepped forward, keeping her distance still from the children.
"Should we provide our name?" the woman muttered quietly to herself.
"I suppose it could not hurt." She turned to face the group, announcing her name as if it were significantly noteworthy, like a teacher before a classroom.
"My name is Lydiane Dupeaux. You may address me as Lydiane, if you so choose. I have been trained in the arts of staunching wounds, so please come to me if you or someone you know is wounded." With her announcement complete, Lydiane stepped back into the recesses of the group.
"I still think we're making a mistake," she mumbled quietly.
Introductions were underway, some opinions were being shared and the garishly dressed man proved to be loud. As loud as the thing called Boris. Another odd thing added to the environment, it resembled an ox but was clearly built. Nergüi shook his head at the sight. The dwarf did not seem to take offence to being called a kid, but maybe they were used to it. Short length could cause problems, though never had he seen a midget with quite that prolific a beard. But they brought luck, the clerics had told, the dwarfish folk. With many other names having been spoken out to the children and the others, he concluded he should also share his. He blessed his parents for his given name as he voiced it:
"My name is Nergüi." In the ancient tongue of his home, it meant no-name. Bullied for it in his youth he had been, but it would protect from evil spirits since they could not find him based on it. In this environment, the thought brought a sliver of peace. The most lavish of introductions was the one of the ice queen, though she did merely stay in the subject. The tribesman was getting to like this person, she reminded him of the sergeants back in the Khan's army. With her having shared what she did best, he tapped the handle of his sabre.
"I ride, though with no mount I still have my weapons", he shared out loud and having heard what she had had to add more silently, he whispered to her in a similarly hushed tone,
"agreed." Yet the mist was wrapping around them even more tightly.
They could not stay.
The children tallied with their chins as their attention tolled from one introduction to another, languishing and considering the appellations offered to the prior meager request for camaraderie. These strangers slowly and generously unraveled their identities to the throng assembled, aspiring that such a munificent act would grant unobtrusive amnesty in the near future. Rose observed the last and final unspoken body, her gawk scrutinized the familiarity of Erwald’s muted eyes. It was if he didn’t require to mention his moniker, for they seemed to already know the mysterious man. The ocular pair of dark wreathes, encircling their bound empty hollows, continued to watch and linger, for only a moment, contemplating whether a monster could have pity upon such a defenseless crowd. The boy and his sister squirmed in further thought, like a pig sty of ravenous hogs between them, racing to lead them onward and onto the cliff of the portico. These six given names seemingly impressed upon the girl, as charming, beautiful pearls, radiant in the night’s darkness. If only to be cast and crushed before the swine of her dual mind. The older Durst youth eventually pealed on, suddenly eager to incorporate all her new friends.
“We don’t have tea or fire. But Mister Andhund would you lead the way?”"Well, if it's monster's you're afraid of, lil' lady..." Jaxson spoke up, before unstrapping his hammer from his back, hefting it up with two hands. "That seems like a right an' proper thing Boris and I could fix." He pulled a trigger on the bottom of his hammer's haft, causing blunt spikes to eject from the business end of its head. These spikes seem to have been manufactured in order to transfer more force into whatever its target may be.
The grizzled mage permitted the introductions, even if his eyes remained distant and watchful into the mists, leaving his expression blank and largely soulless; as though the drawing night had sapped him of what little livelihood remained in an old man. He took no special precaution, other than keeping to himself, not until the children addressed him. Snapped from his twilight daze, he nodded abruptly, adding;
"Yes, yes, wise are you, children." Andhund started, following along the way, certain to give the strangers a wary eye and his hands well in reach as part of his wide berth of them,
"More dangers outside than inside tonight." Step by step in his beaten shoes, he managed to create a comfortable enough distance before he continued and seemingly addressed the rest of the oddities the realm had collected on this twisting night.
"No more delaying - we would be fools to do so."The cleric seemed almost surprised that Nergüi responded to her.
"Y-yes. However... it seems our decision has been made for us," she replied quietly so the children hopefully could not hear. She stepped forward, following after Andhund with her candlelight leading the way, and raised her voice so all could hear.
"It might be foolish to delay, but it is a greater fool who rushes blindly forward without caution. There are more dangerous things that lurk about than the monsters of children's fantasies. Be on your guard, and ever-vigilant."The others made their introductions. Illyana seemed to hear, but was much more interested in the medallion about the grim cleric's neck. Situated squarely at the woman's clavicle was the visage of a crow crying out to the sky. The woman seemed to meet her warm yet discerning gaze with an equally cold one as Illyana's examination became apparent. Anything further prying wasn't necessary, so Illyana turned her attention back to the others. The decision already having been made for them, the group started to set forward. Illyana walked beside the wizened man and fellow priestess as they approached the entrance. It was Illyana that stood before the door and placed her hand upon the knocker. Her chest heaved with a single meditative breath before she rapped against the entrance.
“Yeah, I’d reckon we mosey on inside the house before this fog eats us up like a contest-winning pie.”Jaxson followed the rest, relaxing the grip from his warhammer as the spikes retract back into the hammer’s head. He rested it on his shoulder, holding it with one hand and gesturing for Boris to follow him inside.
>Collaboration with @Cu Chulainn,@The Large Dumbo,@The Harbinger of Ferocity,@Rig,@Hekazu,@JBRam2002 and @Ms Ravenwinter.
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