RPG Addicts | We Know You're Hooked

Everyone turns to look at al-Akhir to wait for his response...

"I have everything I need, I am not interested in padding a merchant's pockets. Or yours no mater your arrangement with the merchant, Ismark.""

[OoC tact is not Sumayl's strength]

(05-24-2021, 03:48 PM)Sumayl al-Akhir Wrote: [ -> ][OoC tact is not Sumayl's strength]

[OoC: Nor, apparently, common sense.]

Ismark looks at Sumayl curiously and asks, "Why would I be attempting to pad the merchant's pockets while my family is on the verge of extinction?  I offered to take you to the Bildrath's Mercantile because it will close soon and we will literally be walking by the store.  In fact, you likely have already walked past it on your way here.  You may not have a chance to purchase more equipment until the morning.  They mostly come out at night... mostly..."

With everyone stating they didn't need any more equipment, Ismark leads the group out of the tavern...

---

Ismark steps out of the tavern and into a thick fog.  He points south and says, "It's this way."  You all walk through the town square and Ismark points out Bildrath's Mercantile which is right beside (on the north side) the woman's home who was looking for her daughter, Gertruda.  You can still hear her sobs drifting from inside her home.  "Her name is Mary," Ismark says sadly, "I pray we find her daughter but people who go missing in Barovia are rarely, if ever, found."  Ismark continues to lead you south to the edge of town.

You are traveling the blue line...

A weary-looking mansion squats behind a rusting iron fence.  The iron gates are twisted and torn. The right gate lies cast aside while the left swings crazily in the wind. The stuttering squeal and clang of the gate repeats with mindless precision.  Weeds choke the grounds and press with menace upon the house itself. Yet, against the walls, the growth has been trodden under to form a path all about the domain. Heavy claw markings have stripped the once beautiful finish of the walls. Great black blottings tell of the fires that have assailed the walls. Not a pane nor shard of glass stands in any window. All the windows are barred with heavy planking, each plank marked with stains of evil omen.

[OoC: If there is anything you want to do before entering the mansion, like scout around or investigate something, this would be the time to do it.  If not, then continue reading...]

The mansion is approximately 120 feet long east to west and 50 feet wide north to south.  Ismark leads you the heavily scarred with tooth and claw heavy oak front door.  He firmly knocks on the wooden door which creates a deep, hollow drumming noise that echoes deep within the mansion.  A few moments later you all hear...

"Who is it!" Whispers a woman from behind the door.  

"It's me, I've brought friends.  They might be able to help!" replies Ismark.

"Are you sure they can be trusted?" She asks.

"Of course.  They're from out of town," he replies.

A few more moments past until finally you all hear several deadbolts be released and what sounds like a heavy plank being slid away from the door and set on the floor.  With a deep creak, the door cracks open, shining a slice of light onto you all from inside.  A woman peeks out at everyone and then with much trepidation she opens the door another foot and whispers, "Come along inside, then. Quickly..." 

The interior of the house is well furnished, although the fixtures show sign of considerable wear. Obvious oddities are the boarded-up windows and the overuse of holy symbols in every room. The Burgomaster is in a side drawing room — dead. He is lying in a room that is dark, despite the candles burning in his honor. The stench in the house is horrible. 

"Try to make yourself comfortable," the striking, young, auburn haired beauty says to everyone once they're inside and the door has been locked an heavily barred shut.

Sumayl looks at Rhodric.  "are ye any good at tracking, can you check what sort of creature, and how many assailed these walls?  and how often and recent?"

He turns to Isgmark "You said 'They mostly come out at night.'  What or who comes at night? This is the most open anyone has been so far, you might want to share more if you want us to be able to help."

Rhoderic's tracking is (Wis +0) as he has a 13 WIS. He will examine the tracks and markings to see what he can determine left them.

There are so many tracks Rhodric has no trouble finding several different prints to examine.  Rhodric can tell that these tracks are anywhere from a week and a half to possibly up to a month old.  The majority of tracks are wolves but not your typical wolf who would be up to 4' in length.  Some of these prints would belong to wolves up to 7' long. So probably Wargs, which mean they're not only larger than typical wolves, they are also more intelligent.  Both Aly and Sumayl confirm the wolves Rhodric describe sound like the same type they're group encountered on the road to Barovia.  The creatures managed to separate the party and drag half of them away into the forest.  Despite their attempts to search for their companions, they were never seen nor heard from again.

Rhodric continues to examine the other less prolific tracks.  He can see human/oid prints.  Most are barefooted with some showing signs of claws at the end of their toes.  Others look like the person was injured as they show signs of the feet dragging ground or one foot dragging behind the other.

Eloric rolls his eyes and plops down in the nearest arm chair. He pinches the bridge of his nose, the overpowering smell of death already giving him a headache.  "Great. At least the tavern just smelled of vomit, piss and ale."

Reion gave Eloric a sour look for being rude, but really couldn't argue with his friend. The stench was horrific, especially with all the windows and doors boarded up. It was like choking on death.  

Still - the halfling kept a smile on his face and tried to at least appear cordial.

[Bump]