conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Gamblerjoe: Expedition to Castle Ravenloft IC Thread         OOC Link     
   {table=head]Name|Race|Classes|Legacy|Player
  
     Ralston Allcott   |Human|Cleric 6|Holy Symbol|Cleavon
  
     Erwin   |Dwarf|Fighter 1/Wizard 5|FMT|Grendus
  
     Taliver   |Human|Ardent 6|Sunsword|TheStillWind
  
     Rachel Gingalain   |Human|Sorceror 5, Mota 1|Tome|SemiteLock
  
  [/table] 
    Your wagon has been traveling for several days, winding thorough forests paths in wilderness that may by all rights be uncharted. The farther you go, the more you are given an unsettling feeling. As creepy and ominous as the journey is, it is an important one.
  
  You have tracked the object of your desire to the small hamlet of Barovia; a place far from City comforts and war-torn battlefields alike. Where the land itself seems to have been exiled from the rest of the world, lies an ancient artifact. Many legends exist surrounding this item, its previous owners, and their heroic deeds. You believe with all of your soul that this artifact belongs in your hands, and with it you will forge your destiny. To that end, you will brave any perils to see your goal through.  
  
  As you sought passage to Barovia, you met an interesting individual. He claims to be a lorekeeper for a Gnomish chapter of Lightbringers. He refers to himself as Barnaby, stating that as the name his best human friend calls him, and therefore the name he uses in human lands. He offers a few gold pieces and free entertainment if he may accompany the party to Barovia.
  
  His presence makes the trip go much faster. His songs, jokes and pleasant conversation keep the mood light, and everyone's mind off all the unpleasantness. He gives great conversation on history, nobility and works of fiction. His knowledge of lore and spellcraft are enough to keep even the most learned wizard engaged. He has a vast knowledge of the sword coast, and even has tales of exploits that would make a master thief envious. He makes a genuine attempt to cater to his audience, and play music they like. He takes requests, and plays the songs flawlessly.
  
  After getting to know the party in almost no time, he seems quite open. He sees himself as somewhat of a clergyman or mission. He is quick to open up to strangers, which causes them to open up to him. As somewhat of a traveling problem solver, this helps him help others. He has with him a letter. It arrived when he was resting at a Lightbringers-friendly temple. After scribing several copies for them, he kept one and decided to personally respond. He is more than willing to show whomever he meets, and makes a point to show every other Lightbringer he comes in contact with.
  
   Letter:  
   Spoiler 
   Hail to thee of might and valor:
  
  I, a lowly servant of the township of Barovia, send honor to thee. We plead for thy so desperately needed assistance within our community.
  
  Our village is nestled in the Svalich Woods, an ancient forest that has long laid quiet with the weight of ages on its shoulders. But recent nights have brought the howls of wolves to our ears, and the night of the last full moon brought far worse out of the forest. Enormous wolves attacked with unnatural savagery, killing many of us and leaving many more wounded.
  
  The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, was one of those wounded, and I fear for her. Her injury refuses our healing remedies and she languishes abed.
  
  There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea.
  
  Come quickly, for I dread the rising of the next full moon! All that I have shall be thine!
  
  Kolyan Indirovich,
  Burgomaster of Barovia 
   
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Gamblerjoe: As you draw nearer to your destination, it grows eerily quiet. Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors about the muddy roadway. A pall of thick, cold mist spreads over the ground. Giant tree trunks stand guard on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mists. In every direction the fog grows thicker and the forest seems more oppressive.  
  
  The wagon suddenly comes to a halt, and the wagoner begins rapping on the front of the carriage.  "Alright folks, this is as far as the horses and I go. Thanks for the patronage, and best of luck to ya."  The road seems to stretch forever in either direction, losing itself in the fog and bare trees. A sign post reading "Barovia" points farther down the road. The post has no sign pointing in the other direction.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: SemiteLock: After disembarking with what seems to be meager possessions, Rachel takes a look around. Wary of any creatures of the night, she does her best to keep a strong vigil, and observes the trees and fogs as if each held a zombie in hiding.
  
  As soon as her observations are complete, she turns to the rest of the party
  
   "Well we best be off I say. No sense in standing around in the gloom waiting for something to happen. Do you agree Master Cleric and Ardent?"  looking at both in turn, her gaze resting on the dwarf last, a small smile on her lips.
  
  She shows those two the most respect of the group, as they remind her of her brother and father, and unknowingly values their opinion more then she would normally. It is not that she does not respect the dwarf, just that she is unfamiliar with the race.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Cleavon: Ralston  
  
  The snowy haired man stepped from the carriage with his pack in his hand.  Flowing crimson cloak hanging down his back with the symbol of St.Cuthbert emblazoned large upon the back.  His footsteps crunch along the wet dirt road, and his strong arms sling his pack up over his shoulder as he peers at the sign, then down the road ahead.
  
  Tightening his gloves on his hands, he turned to the sorcerer and nodded grimly.
  
    "Our business grows no closer, So I agree.  Lets get on with it and see what we can do to help this burgomasters plight, and what we can learn in Barovia."  
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Gamblerjoe: Not the least glimmer of light escaped the castle's tall black windows. Its broken battlements sketched a jagged line across the darkened sky. Castle Ravenloft brooded over a bleak, mist-shrouded valley. Constructed on the sheer side of a thousand-foot cliff, the terrible fortress was occupied by something ancient and evil...  
  
  As you follow the road further, it descends into the valley, and eventually leads to a large gate.
  
    Gray in the fog, high stone pillars loom up from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road. Huge iron gates hang from the stonework, dew clinging to their rusting bars. Standing before the pillars are two stone statues of armed guardians with wicked polearms. Their carved heads lie among the weeds at their feet, neatly broken from the stone shoulders. As you approach the gates, they slowly begin to swing open.  
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Grendus: " I'm sure that's not an omen, " Erwin murmurs, drawing his Urgrosh and holding leaning it backwards across his shoulder. " Let's get going. "
  
  He heads up the path, short steps chewing up the distance a little too fast for his liking, though he refused to be hesitant. Caution was prudent, hesitation was suicide. " They may well have simply enchanted the gates to open for travelers, it's a simple enchantment after all. No sense in being paranoid. "