Gordian Nought

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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The silt of time sifted into the bellows of the old woman’s evident grumble, as the rapping yielded no answers, only to be intermittently overshadowed by the distant human howl.

The crone diligently repeated the process, door to door, hoping to solicit, to someone, her veiled dessert of dreams, curtained by an unkempt but flashy embroidery. The frayed tapestry permeated with a few sporadic holes, but predominantly demonstrated sewn foregrounds of stitched and sliced children blandly embossed within the abdomens of colossal, salivating adults. The milieu of its hemmed backdrop exhibited a vibrant garden of lilacs, carnations, poppies, and marigolds, suggesting the quilted panoramas were depicting a coerced but enjoyable picnic.

Eventually, her incessant knocks yielded a riposte.

Markus and the disgusted Egil, together, trotted closer to the oblivious supplier, observing her slighted scowl tumble into a sly sneer as the soft swing of three hinges fully interred inward.

“Yes, yes, open up to Grandmother Morgantha. Jarov…” The monotony of a trawled echo lingered. “I am here for Lucian.”

Easily, a scuffle with a crying child was soon gleaned. After a few more moments, a man produced a seven year old to the patient peddler.

“Papa, please don’t.” The son pleaded. “I don’t want to go to Bonegrinder.”

The father’s face reluctantly shifted his hooked gaze between his own flesh and blood and the covered wares on the broker’s tumbril. Eventually, an entranced mother seemingly joined the addictive conversation, forcefully pushing the youth towards the haggard hawker.

“You must. Our family needs you.” The less aged female offered, her lips dripping with familial hemlock.

With that gesture and bid, the older vendor generated two pastries from beneath the artistic but tattered shroud. With a hurried exchange, the boy screeched as arthritic hands shoved him into a pristine sack filled partly with rose petals, crickets and sand, externally clean, oddly, which contrasted against the kidnapper’s messy belongings.

“Quiet.” She growled, tethering the floppy bag onto a lower rack within the wagon’s underside. After the satchel became motionless, the murky merchant belted her contractual sales pitch before pushing once again her wain, along cobbled stones, ever nearer to the mount of George and its handler.

“Thank you, Nalkainen.” She ignored the doll and the puppeteer, whilst thundering over her shoulder anon, “I can return as early as next week for your daughter. As long as she can laugh for me. That is, if you are still hungry.”

The next juicy pause was deliberate, dodging tendrils of webbing.

“Just heed the hammering on your steps, of course.”

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>Anala casts Web on Morgantha. Morgantha makes her save.

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@BCTheEntity Talran Galelove – Medium Friendly Paladin

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Zaerith Dustborn.

Of course, now he remembered - that face, those markings, it all snapped into sharp focus as Talran finally realised who he was talking to. Yet, he acted so differently from before, and claimed he had memory issues... was he truly the same person he'd known?

'Helm almighty,' Talran muttered, eyes wide with a mixture of emotion. 'How did you get here, Zaerith? And... no. No, you have a lot of questions to answer,' he explained, just a little cross, though not sure how to process the matter quite yet, 'and we'ven't enough time to discuss them in full when we've barely arrived at our destination.' He gestured briefly to the gates they had just passed through. 'You've offered me up a great deal of confusion in the past, and I wish to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.' Gods above, Zaerith had arrived here too. Fate was, after all, humoured by all sorts of coincidences. The question was, once they'd talked again, how would he handle him?

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Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Hekazu The Unnamable

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The man with the puppet puffed in annoyance and sat up remarkably straight as he was asked from where the map had been procured from. Did these people have buttons for eyes? Even George did not, and he was a puppet for goodness' sake! "George spotted this on the ground after one of you nearly stepped on it, that's where! It was in an envelope, sure, one that bore a wax seal, and it was good it was so just as well, unless one considers trying to make out the details out of soiled parchment their specialty!". A short break was taken, the voice returning to a less agitated state before continuing: "The actual scene being that of the fight. George had thought he was not the only one to see it, but no such luck it seems."

With those words spoken, the man hunched again and brought George back towards his chest. "It would help one unfamiliar with these corners of the land if this had more than simply the bat's eye view, but George has spent so long without one that he can surely appreciate the fact there is even this much", the speech continued before George was brought forth again, the map now a little more loosely held in the puppet's hands. "Have a look if you will, but George will want it back after. He made sure the envelope it came from was kept secure, yes he did." The fact Anala had requested no honorifics for herself was an unusual detail, but it would make interaction with her slightly less complicated a procedure, as was already being proven.

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Ravenloft. Revisited.

The uninvited paladin encroached upon the hunched shoulders of the previously filthy man. Peering into the overdrawn hood of the fighter’s face, the affable knight inquired of his specific moniker. Where others historically would have referred to him as the vine of Vaasa, the champion had forgotten his lack of fame here, now drowned by the flooded obscurity plaguing the heroes marching deeper into Barovia. The bitter winds, though, quickly reminded him of the fairness of the query, just before Talran moved onto the tattooed trickster whose memory tended to escape his own trusted scrutiny.

"Egil." The reply, simple.

The name offered a resonant token of appreciation for sharing rain after combat, for spilt blood remained ever thicker than congealed water. The crowded drops from heaven tumbled as viscous wingless angels; the adjudicating precipitation pooled and beaded off the eyebrows, like dangling swords of Damocles waiting to descend from furry ridges upon the chiseled frown formed by relaxed cheeks, each scarred, a myriad over, by close encounters of empty happiness. The doll eerily struck a chord of childhood reminiscence as bolts of fire chauffeured the lingering feathered scouts away whilst the puppeteer distributed and discussed the intricacies of a newly discovered map.

Was the handler, too, a denizen of Ravenloft? Like Markus? Even Anala questioned, “Where did you find this?”

He had surely seen George before. Somewhere.

Was it from a disremembered nightmare? Or in person before the meeting with Starovir? The incomplete puzzle fragmented itself further from diagnosis as the haunting forest eventually elapsed into the festering village. Where a few smoldering chimneys, a wailing mother's howl and an old croon's tapping demonstrated signs of vibrancy in the weathered town, all eroded by the sin of jealousy.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

I apologize for my complete absence and any inconvenience to the campaign that it caused, to the players or our beloved DM.

Last week was the first time in a long time, work and life has been more predictable and easier to bear.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

9. roleplayerguild.com/rolls/12757

I should be able to regain momentum this weekend moving forward.

Ravenloft. Revisited.

The disconnect exists as this campaign has transplanted to primarily the Discord server.

I will update at our next milestone to preserve posterity.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

If possible I'd like for Parum to work with @Gordian Nought Torus to scout the cultist camp using his crow, while also figuring out what everyone can do and come up with combos and such. I honestly don't really know what everyone is capable of beyond a general idea of their class, so knowing their fighting styles, abilities, and so forth will be helpful to ensure our team can get one over the bad guys.

@Ryonara

Apologies to all for my absence. Life has been crushing, as of late.

That sounds splendid, @Ryonara!

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Work had painted me into a corner. Apologies for the belatedness.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

The plumed fowl eventually added its own salty sill, whilst its schizophrenic summoner remained sultry and wide-eyed, sickly licking her confused lips, as the irises of gold peered over the monk, seeking an answer to his riddle.

"Tiamat, the cult's queen, in question, is no longer of this world. Still chained in the Nine Hells."

The neck of feathers tilted, to allow the sheen of the beak, to gleam in the candlelight. Xaron's bird had befriended Torus over the decades, out of pity, yet Judgement's home, heart and allegiance always remained in Amn, setting sail upon the seas against the City of Splendors and ravaging its trading partners. Plundering wealth by inhibiting the reach of its trade and reach. Rumors of the Wearers of the Purple also pillaged, rivaling their own ship's spoils. This did not exalt in novelty. Nothing new to the crow. But why the endless pursuit of hoarde? With extant, powerful dragons amalgamating for such pointlessness? For a deity, unreachable? Not to deplete Waterdeep as his Bard vengefully desired.

"They are searching for something, beyond mere bobbles. A means to an end?"

The inquisitive raven fluttered in place, hesitantly, before an elderly snap prompted its disappearance.

"Enough. Does this vine bear any fruit, Leosin?"

@Ryonara@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen@Hekazu