Curse of Strahd vs Gemini AI - Village of Barovia - Blood on the Vine Tavern
The party goes back into the town square, passing Bildrath’s Mercantile and can clearly see the Blood on the Vine Tavern. Can I get a perception roll for each PC.
The party emerges from the haunted gloom of Mary Gray's townhouse, leaving the tragic scene behind. They step back onto the slick cobblestones of the village square, the oppressive fog still clinging to everything. The dim light of Bildrath's Mercantile is to their left, and straight ahead, cutting a solid pillar through the heavy mist, is the defiant glow of the Blood on the Vine Tavern.
As they move towards the tavern, each PC takes a moment to scan their surroundings, their senses heightened by the eerie atmosphere of Barovia.
Here are the results of their Perception checks:
Faelar (Perception +4): 1d20 + 4 = 17
Kaelen (Perception +1): 1d20 + 1 = 11
Borin (Perception +0): 1d20 + 0 = 5
Seraphina (Perception +2): 1d20 + 2 = 15
Lyra (Perception +1): 1d20 + 1 = 9
Silas (Perception +1): 1d20 + 1 = 14
Faelar (17): His ranger's senses, though hampered by the fog, pick up on a faint, almost imperceptible scent in the air that lingers in pockets: a metallic, almost coppery odor, faint but distinct, mingled with the damp earth and a hint of something sweet, like old wine. He also catches a glimpse of a gaunt, dark silhouette moving quickly between two distant buildings on the far side of the square, vanishing into the fog before he can get a clear look. It was too quick and indistinct to identify.
Seraphina (15): The oppressive spiritual despair of Barovia seems to weigh on her more heavily here in the open square. She perceives a profound sense of loneliness and desolation emanating from the darkened houses, as if their very stones weep for their absent inhabitants. She feels a subtle, chilling presence on the edges of her awareness, a sense of being watched, though she can't pinpoint its source.
Silas (14): His bardic sensitivity picks up on the unnatural silence of the village square. Beyond the faint, mournful echoes that occasionally still seem to drift from the townhouse they just left, there is no sound of life, no chirping of crickets, no rustle of unseen animals, no distant human voices. It's an empty, hollow quiet that feels wrong. He also notes a faint, almost imperceptible musical resonance in the air, a melancholic hum that seems to eman come from nowhere and everywhere at once, chilling him.
Kaelen (11): He notes the worn state of the cobblestones, particularly around the tavern entrance, suggesting it sees some traffic. He also catches the scent of cheap tobacco and something vaguely savory, like stew, on the air emanating from the tavern, a stark contrast to the oppressive gloom outside.
Lyra (9): She mostly perceives the oppressive density of the fog, making it difficult to discern anything beyond the immediate vicinity of the tavern's strong light. The darkness of the unlit houses seems to swallow any distant details.
Borin (5): His attention is firmly on the illuminated doorway of the Blood on the Vine, his mind set on reaching it. He sees little beyond the immediate path and the inviting (or foreboding) glow. The fog makes everything else a murky blur.
Faelar and Seraphina note that the sign reveals that it originally read “Blood of the Vine.” (An “n” has been scratched over with the “f.”)
As the party draws closer to the Blood on the Vine Tavern, its singular beam of light cutting through the oppressive fog like a tangible thing, Faelar's keen ranger eyes pick out a subtle detail on the sign hanging precariously above the gaping doorway. His brow furrows slightly. He then notices the same detail.
"Hold on," Seraphina murmurs, her gaze fixed on the sign, a slight frown touching her lips. "The sign... it doesn't quite read 'Blood on the Vine.' Look closely."
Indeed, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear. An original "f" has been roughly scratched over, leaving a faint but discernible mark beneath the more recently painted "n." The sign had originally read "Blood of the Vine."
"Clever," Kaelen mutters, a grim twist to his lips as he squints at the sign. "Or grim. Someone went to the trouble of changing 'of' to 'on'. A change from something derived or cultivated, to something... spilt. Like blood." He glances at the others, his eyes reflecting the dark implications.
Lyra's mind immediately grasps the symbolic weight of the alteration. "A shift from life's essence to a stain of violence," she observes, her voice hushed. "From the lifeblood of the land, perhaps, to the blood shed upon it. A deliberate change, one that hints at the true nature of this place, or its master."
Silas lets out a low, almost poetic sigh. "Well, that's certainly more... on the nose, wouldn't you say? Nothing subtle about this Barovia. Even their taverns bleed their truths."
Borin simply grunts, though the word "blood" certainly catches his attention, and he eyes the doorway with renewed caution. The linguistic nuance might be lost on him, but the overall implication is not.
The unsettling discovery of the sign's alteration only deepens the pervasive sense of dread and unease that permeates Barovia. It solidifies their decision that this tavern, despite its inviting light, is likely more than just a place for drink. It's a key to understanding the darkness.
The Party's Next Action: Despite the ominous implications of the tavern's name and the unsettling details of the village, the Blood on the Vine remains their only direct lead. With the decision already made to investigate the Vistani and learn more about Gertruda's disappearance, the party steel themselves. Their destination is clear.
They proceed directly to the gaping doorway of the Blood on the Vine Tavern, ready to step from the chilling fog of the square into whatever uncertain reception awaits them within.
As they enter the Tavern they note that at one time this place must have been finely appointed, however the tavern has grown shoddy over the years. A blazing fire in the hearth gives scant warmth to the few huddled souls within.
They notice the barkeep, a pudgy little man mindlessly cleaning glasses, one after another. Three women in colorful garb sitting together sit at a table near the front door, playing a game of cards. Lastly a young man who sits by himself at a corner table, sipping his wine.
When the PCs enter, one of the women at the table seems to look past them outdoors. Noting the time of day she turns back to the others she says “It’s ok, not yet dusk.”
What are the PCs doing? Please describe any actions, if they approach anyone, indicate what they say as well if they are going to use any social skills like persuasion, intimidation, deception, etc. and provide associated dice rolls.
The heavy wooden door of the Blood on the Vine Tavern creaks open, allowing the party to step from the chilling embrace of Barovia's fog into a dim, smoky interior. At one time, this place must have boasted a finer decor, but now it wears the weary patina of neglect: scarred wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and walls stained with years of forgotten revelry. A blazing fire crackles merrily in a large hearth, but its warmth seems to cling stubbornly to the bricks, offering only scant comfort to the few huddled souls within.
A pudgy little man, bald and with eyes that seem to hold an infinite emptiness, stands behind a long, worn bar, mindlessly polishing glasses, one after another, their surfaces already gleaming. Near the front door, at a round table, sit three women in vibrant, colorful garb—shawls draped with intricate patterns, bright sashes, and jangling jewelry—engrossed in a game of cards. They glance up as the door opens, their eyes flicking towards the outside. One of them, a woman with a sharp gaze and a ruby scarf, looks past the party, then back at her companions, a knowing look passing between them. "It's okay," she says, her voice a low contralto, "not yet dusk." In a far corner, hunched over a small table, a young man sits by himself, slowly sipping his wine, his back mostly to the entrance.
The comment about dusk hangs in the air, a subtle but ominous detail in a land perpetually shadowed.
Faelar enters with his usual silent grace, his gaze sweeping the room. He notes the location of the bar, the hearth, the patrons, and the single, narrow window that looks out onto the fog. His attention is immediately drawn to the three women in their distinctive attire—Vistani, as Mary had described. The "not yet dusk" comment registers immediately, a piece of a puzzle he doesn't yet fully understand.
Kaelen follows, his eyes quickly assessing the worn furnishings, the state of the fire, and the general air of melancholy. He takes in the barkeep's vacant stare and the solitary young man, but his focus, like Faelar's, settles on the women. He catches the "not yet dusk" comment and files it away, a subtle prickle of unease sharpening his senses. He considers the most advantageous approach, weighing subtlety against directness.
Borin enters, his presence filling the doorway for a moment before he steps fully inside. His hand rests on the hilt of his axe, not aggressively, but with an ingrained readiness. He takes in the meager crowd, his eyes lingering on the three women, sensing their collective confidence. He's ready to stand his ground, but defers to the others for initial contact.
Seraphina steps into the tavern, feeling the oppressive gloom of Barovia permeate even this supposedly warm space. The "scant warmth" from the fire is a stark metaphor for the land itself. Her eyes are drawn to the three women, their colorful garb a splash of defiance against the drabness. She hears the comment about dusk and a shiver runs down her spine, recalling Mary's frantic warnings. Her compassionate heart yearns to understand the true nature of this place and its inhabitants.
Lyra lets her gaze wander over the patrons, her analytical mind immediately cataloging the details: the indifferent barkeep, the watchful women, the solitary drinker. The "not yet dusk" comment registers with chilling clarity. She glances at the women, recognizing them as the Vistani Mary spoke of. She understands the need for information, but also the potential danger.
Silas takes a moment to absorb the atmosphere—the contrast between the shoddy decor and its past grandeur, the oppressive quiet broken only by the crackling fire and the clink of glasses. The "not yet dusk" comment is a hook for a morbidly fascinating story. He eyes the women, sensing an opportunity to gather information, perhaps with a well-placed song or a disarming question.
The Party's Decision: After a quick, silent assessment of the room and its occupants, the party understands that the three women in colorful garb are almost certainly the Vistani Mary Gray spoke of. Given their current goal to investigate Gertruda's disappearance and the Vistani's perceived role, they decide to approach them. However, they'll do so cautiously, opting for a common tavern interaction to establish their presence before directly interrogating.
Their Actions: The party moves towards the long, worn bar. Silas, adopting a relaxed, approachable demeanor, steps forward slightly. He approaches the glassy-eyed barkeep first, aiming to order drinks as a natural opening to observe and then engage.
"Evening," Silas says, his voice carrying a practiced warmth, though a hint of unease still lurks in his eyes. "A round of your finest ale for myself and my weary companions, if you please. And perhaps a bit of local conversation along with it?" He leans slightly on the bar, trying to appear casual while his senses remain acutely aware of the women at the table.
Silas’s warmth is met with an almost indifferent recognition.. The barkeep looks at him when he starts ordering his drinks and responds in a dull, hollow voice. A small glass of wine costs 1 cp. A pitcher of wine costs 1 sp.
Silas's warmth, usually a potent tool, lands with a dull thud against the barkeep's vacant indifference. The pudgy little man merely raises his glassy eyes to Silas's face, his voice flat and hollow, "A small glass of wine costs 1 cp. A pitcher of wine costs 1 sp." He makes no move to fetch anything, simply waiting for an order and payment.
Silas's practiced smile wavers for a moment, surprised by the utter lack of engagement. He glances back at his companions, a flicker of irritation passing through his eyes before he regains his composure. "Right," he says, trying to maintain his cheerful facade. "A pitcher of wine, then, good sir. For us all." He reaches into his pouch for the coin.
Seraphina steps forward slightly, seeing Silas's initial failure to connect. "I'll cover that, Silas," she offers gently, pulling out a silver piece from her own pouch. "May it bring a moment of warmth to us all."
The barkeep takes the coin from Seraphina with a slow, deliberate movement, his fingers brushing hers with a chilling lack of warmth. He turns without a word, draws a pitcher from beneath the counter, and fills it from a large, plain cask, placing it and a few chipped wooden mugs on the bar before them. His eyes then drift back to the glass he was cleaning, his movements resuming their mindless rhythm.
With the pitcher secured, the party now turns their full attention to the three women in colorful garb seated at the table. Their card game continues, but their eyes occasionally flicker towards the newcomers, their expressions unreadable. The woman who spoke earlier about dusk watches them with a piercing gaze.
Kaelen lowers his voice to a near whisper, leaning in slightly towards the others. "The barkeep's no help. The women are our only lead. They're watching us." He nods subtly towards the Vistani. "We need to approach them. Maybe Silas tries again, or Seraphina with her kind approach. We need to know about Gertruda, and why they serve the 'devil'."
Lyra sips carefully from her mug, her eyes still on the Vistani. "Their 'not yet dusk' comment is concerning. Let's aim for information, not confrontation. Perhaps a direct but polite inquiry. Silas might charm them, or Seraphina might appeal to their better nature, if they have one."
Faelar takes a long, slow drink of the wine, his gaze never leaving the Vistani women. "Best not to waste time. We're already inside. Who wants to take point?"
Borin just grunts, takes a mug, and pours himself a hearty measure of wine. He's ready to follow whoever speaks.
Silas, having been rebuffed by the barkeep, feels a challenge rising. He wants to prove his worth. "Alright," he says, his voice regaining its usual confident lilt, though tinged with a new determination. "Let me try. A bard needs his audience, and they seem like they have a story to tell." He casts a quick glance at Seraphina. "Unless you prefer to lead, Seraphina?"
Seraphina looks at Silas, then at the Vistani women. She sees their watchful eyes, their somewhat guarded demeanor. While she felt her compassion work on Mary, she knows these women might require a different approach. "Perhaps a different kind of warmth then," she says, offering Silas a small, encouraging nod. "Go ahead, Silas. Let your music, or your words, open their hearts."
The Party's Decision: Silas will be the one to approach the three Vistani women, attempting to engage them with his bardic charm and a friendly demeanor to glean information.
Their Actions: Silas takes a quick, fortifying sip of the tavern wine. He places his mug back on the bar and, with a confident, easy stride, walks towards the table where the three Vistani women are playing cards. He offers a wide, disarming smile, letting his natural charisma flow.
"Good evening, ladies," Silas says, his voice smooth and melodious. "Might a weary traveler, new to the charm of Barovia, impose upon your game for a moment? Perhaps a short tune in exchange for a little local wisdom?" He doesn't immediately pull up a chair, but waits for their reaction, his gaze friendly but observant.
The game pauses for a moment when Silas speaks.. One of the women looks him up and down.. She smiles.. “Hmmm very well. Let’s hear your song..” While this is happening another one of the women places her cards on the table.. “Sevens… I win.” she says with a grin and takes the coins from the table, adding them to her stack.. The third gestures towards the fireplace.. “Stand there and do your song… It is the best spot for singers.”
The game seemingly have ended the two of the women seem now focused on Silas and the third stacking her coin.
What does Silas do? If he sings or plays an instrument please provide an original song for him and also give me a performance check. (Song quality will match the check)
Are any other PCs doing anything?
The card game pauses. The woman with the sharp gaze, her ruby scarf a splash of color against the tavern's drabness, eyes Silas with an unreadable amusement. "Hmmm, very well. Let's hear your song," she says, a slight smile touching her lips. As she speaks, another of the Vistani women, with a triumphant grin, lays her cards on the table. "Sevens... I win," she declares, sweeping a small pile of copper and silver coins into her own stack. The third woman, her eyes dark and shrewd, gestures towards the blazing hearth. "Stand there and do your song... It is the best spot for singers."
The card game seemingly concluded, two of the women now focus intently on Silas, while the third continues to count her winnings, though her attention is also subtly drawn to the bard.
Silas takes a breath, a faint smile playing on his lips. This is his stage, even if it's a grim one. He offers a slight bow. "A pleasure, ladies. A simple traveler's tune, then, of roads less trod and light that fades too soon." He walks towards the hearth, the fire's meager warmth a stark contrast to the chill outside and the coldness within the tavern. He positions himself, pulling his trusty lute from his back, letting his fingers dance lightly over the strings, tuning it quickly. He looks at the faces of the Vistani, their eyes upon him, and begins to sing.
He opts for a song about the deceptive allure of a shadowed land, a subtly probing piece that hints at hidden sorrows and lost paths, yet maintains a certain mournful beauty.
(Silas sings, accompanied by his lute):
(Verse 1) Oh, the mists they do whisper, secrets untold, Of cobblestone paths, and houses grown old. A soft, fading light, where the sun dares not stray, And shadows stretch long, at the close of the day. A gentle invitation, a promise so sweet, To rest weary bones, with no path for your feet.
(Chorus) But Barovia's embrace, it holds you so tight, A lullaby sung in the heart of the night. For the paths you have trod, they vanish behind, And the way back to home, is a memory you'll find.
(Verse 2) They speak of good fortune, and eyes sharp and keen, Of wagons that roll, through lands rarely seen. Of freedom and travel, where no chains can bind, But what of the lost, that they leave far behind? A trinket, a comfort, a song in the ear, While the soul of a loved one, dissolves into fear.
(Chorus) For Barovia's embrace, it holds you so tight, A lullaby sung in the heart of the night. And the paths you have trod, they vanish behind, And the way back to home, is a memory you'll find.
Silas's Performance Check:
Roll: 16
Silas's Performance bonus (+5) = 21
The song, imbued with Silas's genuine talent and a touch of Barovia's melancholic essence, resonates through the small, shoddy common room. His voice, clear and melodious, carries the subtle questions woven into the lyrics with a poignant artistry. The Vistani women, initially just curious, find themselves genuinely captivated. The woman with the ruby scarf leans forward, her sharp gaze now softened by a contemplative expression. The victorious card player stops counting her coins, her head tilted, listening intently. Even the third woman, the shrewd one, seems to relax slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in her dark eyes. The song is clearly well-received, its quality unmistakable.
Other PCs' Actions: As Silas performs, the rest of the party remains discreetly at the bar.
Faelar watches Silas intently, his gaze occasionally sweeping the room to gauge the reactions of the barkeep and the lone young man. He notes the way the Vistani women seem to soften, a small flicker of approval in his own eyes for Silas's skill.
Kaelen sips his wine, his eyes darting between Silas and the Vistani women, trying to read their expressions for any tells, any sign of discomfort or revelation. He listens closely to the lyrics, appreciating their subtle probing.
Borin leans against the bar, his arms crossed, listening to the bard's song. He finds the melancholy tune fitting for this grim place, and a sense of watchful readiness never leaves him.
Seraphina closes her eyes for a moment, letting the mournful beauty of Silas's song wash over her. She feels the echoes of Mary Gray's despair in his words, and a quiet prayer forms on her lips for the lost. She watches the Vistani, hoping the song will open a path to their hearts.
Lyra listens to the lyrics with an analytical ear, noting the "paths... vanish behind" and "no chains can bind" lines. She understands Silas is subtly referencing the trap of Barovia and the Vistani's unique freedom. She observes the women's reactions, eager to see if the song prompts any direct responses.
The three women seem to approve of the song. They comment initially to themselves, but that ends after the first chorus and they sit quietly enjoying the song.. At the end they look at each other and nod.
One gets up and goes over to Silas. “You sing very well, and your song is quite beautiful if not a touch bittersweet. I’m Alenka.” she gestures to her fellow vista “My sisters Mirabel, and Sorvia. We own the place.. Are you looking for work? Perhaps you could sing tonight for our patrons in exchange for supper and a room?”
Faelar notes the young man sitting by himself watched the performance and seemed to be appreciative.
(GM Question: Does Seraphina outwardly wear any religious symbols? Jewelry or a design upon her clothing?)
Silas's song, rich with Barovia's melancholy charm, clearly resonates with the Vistani women. Their quiet murmurs cease after the first chorus, replaced by a focused attention that indicates genuine appreciation. At the song's end, a silent understanding passes between them through a series of nods.
One of the women, Alenka, rises gracefully from the table and approaches Silas. Her smile is warm, but her eyes retain a knowing depth. "You sing very well," she praises, her voice a low, melodious purr. "And your song is quite beautiful, if not a touch bittersweet. I'm Alenka." She gestures to her seated companions. "My sisters Mirabel and Sorvia. We own the place. Are you looking for work? Perhaps you could sing tonight for our patrons in exchange for supper and a room?"
As Silas's song concluded, Faelar noticed the young man sitting alone in the corner. He had been quietly attentive throughout the performance, and now he offered a small, almost imperceptible nod of appreciation towards Silas.
GM Question:
Yes, Seraphina outwardly wears a silver holy symbol of the Morninglord around her neck. It's a stylized sunburst, simple but prominent, clearly identifying her as a cleric devoted to the deity of light and new beginnings.
OK, good to know about Seraphina.. Faelar will note the lone young man gets up during the song and approaches Seraphina, who has her eyes closed in appreciation of the song. He positions himself so that when her eyes open she will see him.. “Excuse me… I couldn’t help but notice you're a follower of the Morning Lord.. You must be new in Barovia.. Would you care for a bit of wine and to join me at my table?” he gestures towards the corner table where he was seated.
What are the PCs doing?
As Silas finished his song, the small space of the Blood on the Vine Tavern hummed with the lingering melancholy of his final notes. Alenka was offering him work, drawing his focus, when a new development unfurled across the room.
Faelar's keen eyes, having never fully left the lone young man in the corner, saw him rise and move with an unexpected swiftness. He approached Seraphina, who had momentarily closed her eyes, lost in the beauty of Silas's performance. The young man positioned himself so that when her eyes fluttered open, his face was directly in her line of sight, his expression earnest, almost pleading.
"Excuse me..." the young man began, his voice soft, almost hesitant, yet clear. "I couldn't help but notice you're a follower of the Morninglord. You must be new in Barovia... Would you care for a bit of wine and to join me at my table?" He gestured towards his previously occupied corner table.
Seraphina's eyes fluttered open, the lingering emotion from the song still softening her features. She blinked, surprised to find a stranger directly in front of her, his gaze intense. Her hand instinctively went to the silver sunburst symbol at her neck. Her expression shifted from surprise to a gentle curiosity. "Good evening," she replied, her voice calm and composed. "I am indeed. And yes, we are new to Barovia. Thank you for the kind invitation. I would be pleased to join you, if my companions may join us as well." She subtly gestured back to the rest of the group at the bar, seeking to include them rather than isolate herself.
Meanwhile, a few feet away, Silas turned his charming smile to Alenka, acknowledging her offer. "Alenka, Mirabel, Sorvia," he began, his voice warm and appreciative, "your praise is sweeter than any gold! A song for supper and a room sounds like a most agreeable arrangement. My companions and I would be honored to provide entertainment for your patrons this evening. We are weary travelers, and Barovia has proven... quite unwelcoming so far. A safe place for the night would be a blessing." He deliberately included the entire party, hoping the offer extended to all of them.
Faelar, having directly observed the young man's deliberate approach to Seraphina, tightened his grip almost imperceptibly on his bow. His eyes darted between the earnest young man and the Vistani women, weighing the two simultaneous interactions. He remained outwardly calm, but his senses were on high alert, ready to react to any sudden movement or change in demeanor.
Kaelen's gaze flickered rapidly between the two conversations, his mind working furiously. Two offers. One to the bard for performance and lodging from the Vistani. One to the cleric for conversation from the quiet patron. Both smelled like opportunities, but also potential traps. He watched Seraphina carefully, approving of her move to include the rest of the party.
Lyra, her expression thoughtful, observed the young man's direct address to Seraphina. How did he know of the Morninglord? Does he follow Him too? Or is this a test? She watched Seraphina's graceful handling of the invitation, approving of her decision to include the group. She subtly shifted her weight, preparing to move with the group whichever way the invitations led.
Borin, ever the watchful guardian, simply stood ready. His eyes flicked from Silas's negotiation to Seraphina's polite parley. He was a stone wall for the party, ready to move or strike if either situation turned sour.
The Party's Immediate Decision: The party decides to accept both invitations, leveraging the opportunities they present to gather more information and secure a temporary base. Silas will accept Alenka's offer of performance for supper and lodging for the whole group. Seraphina will accept the young man's invitation to his table, bringing her companions along. This will allow them to engage with two potentially different sources of information simultaneously and consolidate their position within the tavern.
Their Actions: Silas concludes his conversation with Alenka, accepting her offer for the entire party. "Consider us engaged, Alenka. We look forward to bringing some cheer to your patrons tonight!"
Seraphina, having extended the invitation to her companions, offers the young man a warm smile. "Thank you. We would be delighted." She then turns to the rest of her party, her gaze sweeping over them. "My friends, please join us. It seems we have two tables to occupy."
The group subtly shifts. Faelar, Kaelen, Lyra, and Borin prepare to divide their attention. Some will follow Seraphina to the young man's table, while others might linger near Silas or position themselves to observe both interactions. The immediate goal is to establish themselves within the tavern, then begin probing for information about Gertruda, the Vistani, and the ominous nature of Barovia.
The man smiled at Seraphina, clearly happy she accepted his hospitality. But he also seemed a bit taken aback. But it didn’t cause him to break away from his practiced manners. “I would be delighted. Arik” he called out to the bartender. “A pitcher of wine for me and.. Oh forgive me.. I should have introduced myself.” he said, offering his arm to lead Seraphina over to his table. “My name is Ismark.. Ismark Kolyanovich, and you are?”
Alenka looked upon the bard with delight. Musicians were always welcome. “Good.. You can settle your things in the first room…As for your friends.. Are they a trope? What do they do?” She looked doubtful over at the others who seemed more rough around the edges than professional entertainers.
Arik the bartender pours another pitcher of wine and brings it to Ismark’s table along with a set of glasses.
What are the PCs doing? I need to know specifically if they are joining Ismark’s table or if they are going to follow Silas’s lead and try to earn a free meal and a room for the night. Or if any of the PCs wants to take a different course of action they may do so as well.
The invitations hang in the air, pulling the party in two directions. A quick, silent exchange of glances passes between the companions, and the decision to split their focus is made with an unspoken understanding.
Ismark Kolyanovich smiles at Seraphina, clearly pleased by her acceptance, though a flicker of surprise crosses his face when she includes her companions. "I would be delighted!" he says, offering his arm to lead her towards his corner table. "Arik!" he calls out to the barkeep, "A pitcher of wine for me and... Oh, forgive me! I should have introduced myself." He turns back to Seraphina, his practiced manners returning in full. "My name is Ismark Kolyanovich, and you are?"
As Ismark escorts Seraphina, Faelar and Lyra move with them. Faelar’s presence is subtle but watchful, his eyes constantly scanning, while Lyra’s academic curiosity is piqued by the young man’s polite demeanor and unusual knowledge of the Morninglord.
"Seraphina," the cleric replies graciously, accepting his offered arm and allowing herself to be guided to the table. "And these are my companions, Faelar and Lyra." She inclines her head towards them. "We are travelers, grateful for your hospitality."
Almost immediately, Arik the barkeep shuffles over, placing another pitcher of wine and a set of clean glasses on Ismark’s table, his movements still sluggish and silent.
Meanwhile, Alenka looks upon Silas with delight, but her gaze narrows slightly as she assesses the rest of the party – Kaelen and Borin – who look less like entertainers and more like, well, adventurers. "Good... You can settle your things in the first room. As for your friends... Are they a troupe? What do they do?"
Silas, ever the quick-witted bard, grins easily. "Indeed, they are my esteemed associates, Alenka! We are a... multi-talented troupe. While I handle the melodic arts, Borin here," he gestures to the burly fighter, "is our resident strongman, ensuring no stage is too difficult to set, and no heavy-hearted patron remains un-cheered! Kaelen," he nods towards the rogue, "is our stage manager and, shall we say, provider of exquisite technical support – always ensuring the show runs smoothly and our audience remains... enthralled." He offers a charming, slightly exaggerated wink, hoping to sell the performance. "We're a package deal, I assure you. Our talents complement each other beautifully."
The Party's Actions and Split:
At Ismark's Table: Seraphina, Faelar, and Lyra join Ismark Kolyanovich. They settle into chairs, preparing to engage in conversation with the local. Seraphina will maintain her compassionate demeanor, Faelar his watchful observation, and Lyra her analytical questioning.
At the Vistani Table/Bar: Silas, Kaelen, and Borin remain near the Vistani. Silas continues to charm Alenka, securing the lodging and the performance gig for the entire group. Kaelen will observe the Vistani closely, trying to read their true intentions while Borin stands ready, his imposing presence a silent counterpoint to Silas's charm.
The tavern thus becomes a stage for two simultaneous, crucial interactions, with the party strategically splitting their forces to maximize information gathering and maintain security.
Ismark pulls the chair out for Seraphina as she sits, and does the same for Lyra. This is done without even a thought as if this is something he has made second nature. He extends a hand to the third member joining the table, “Faelar was it? Nice to meet you.”
He then sits, and as he pours each member of the party a glass of wine he comments “Forgive me Seraphina, but I couldn’t help but notice your accent. When you entered I noticed the symbol of the Morning Lord and I had assumed you were sent by the church in Vallaki. Might I ask where you hail from and what brings all of you to Barovia?”
Meanwhile Alenka seems a bit skeptical, but she seems to find Silas’s charm somewhat interesting and playful to say the least.. “Ok.. I’ll give them a chance.. Show me what they can do..”
What are the PCs doing? Will Kaelen and Borin attempt to prove their worth? (If so please make any applicable skill check and give me the result.) Or if any of the PCs wants to take a different course of action they may do so as well.
Ismark, with practiced grace, pulls out a chair for Seraphina, then for Lyra, performing the courtesies with an effortless fluidity that speaks of ingrained habit. He extends a hand to the third member joining their table. "Faelar, was it? Nice to meet you."
He then settles into his own chair, his gaze returning to Seraphina as he pours each of them a glass of wine. "Forgive me, Seraphina," he says, his tone earnestly polite, "but I couldn't help but notice your accent. When you entered, I also noticed the symbol of the Morninglord, and I had assumed you were sent by the church in Vallaki. Might I ask where you hail from, and what brings all of you to Barovia?" His questions are direct, yet delivered without aggression, born perhaps of a genuine desire for information in this isolated land.
Meanwhile, at the Vistani's table, Alenka's skepticism remains evident, yet a spark of playful interest seems to dance in her eyes as Silas continues his charm offensive. "Okay," she says, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "I'll give them a chance. Show me what they can do." Her gaze rests pointedly on Borin and Kaelen.
Silas beams, turning to his companions. "My friends, a moment to shine! Borin, let us see the strength that holds our troupe together! Kaelen, dazzle them with your sleight of hand!"
Kaelen receives the cue with a subtle nod. A performance of acrobatics might seem out of place in a small tavern, but a quick display of hand-eye coordination? Perfect. He subtly reaches for a handful of copper coins from a small pile on the bar where the barkeep left change, his fingers seeming to blur for a moment. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sends one coin spinning into the air, catches it on the back of his hand, rolls it over his knuckles, and then makes it vanish entirely, only to produce it from behind his own ear with a flourish.
Kaelen's Sleight of Hand (Performance) Check:
Roll: 13
Kaelen's Sleight of Hand bonus (+5) = 18
His movements are fluid, practiced, and highly effective. The coin trick is executed with an almost invisible precision, a brief, dazzling flash of skill.
Borin, seeing Kaelen's deftness, takes a moment, his eyes scanning the room. He spots a sturdy iron poker leaning against the side of the fireplace. With a grunt, he casually walks over, picks it up, and without a word, begins to slowly, deliberately bend the thick iron rod across his armored thigh. His muscles bulge, and a soft groan of protesting metal fills the momentary silence left by Kaelen's trick. The poker bends with surprising, raw power.
Borin's Athletics (Performance) Check:
Roll: 18
Borin's Athletics bonus (+6) = 24
Borin's display of raw strength is undeniably impressive, a clear and forceful demonstration of his physical prowess. The bending poker snaps the attention of any wandering eyes back to their table.
At Ismark's Table:
Seraphina offers Ismark a calm, open smile. "My name is Seraphina, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Ismark Kolyanovich." She nods to Lyra and Faelar. "We are not from Vallaki, no. We hail from distant lands, far beyond these mists. We came to Barovia drawn by... a sense of disquiet, and by whispers of great suffering. We seek to offer aid where we can, and perhaps to bring some light into the shadows that seem to cling so heavily to this valley." She chooses her words carefully, truthful enough to convey sincerity, but vague enough to avoid revealing too much too soon.
Lyra watches Ismark's expression closely as Seraphina speaks, noting his reaction to her answers. She sips her wine, ready to follow up if needed, her mind already formulating questions about the nature of the "disquiet" and "shadows" from a local's perspective.
Faelar, at Ismark's acknowledgment, gives a brief, polite nod. He observes Ismark with quiet intensity, noting his polished manners and the polite, yet probing nature of his questions. He maintains a neutral expression, listening intently to the exchange, ever the watchful ranger.
Alenka is impressed both by Kaelen’s coin trick as well as Borins feat of strength. “Ahh he is a magician.. Tell me.. Do you do card tricks as well?” Turning to Borin.. “You can bend that back to how it was, yes?” Seemingly happy she looks at Silas.. “Tell Arik what you lads would like for your dinner.. He’ll have the cook prepare it. Also the first three rooms are yours for the evening. The few townsfolk will start coming in about two hours before dusk and usually leave just before sunset. You may pass a hat around for tips that you may keep from the crowd.” She leans in a bit closer to whisper to Silas. “Just make sure your strong man doesn’t bend anymore items we use to run the palace.. I don’t want my cook trying to make breakfast with pans that have been rolled up like a scroll.” She leans back and speaks in her normal voice. If this is agreeable Mirabell will show you to your rooms, where you may leave your belongings.
With that Mirabel steps away from the table and approaches the trio. “Did you have horses? They can be stabled out back.. If not, follow me.” She leads them to a small hall and opens three doors. Each reveals a comfortable room with a bed, a small wood burning fireplace, a chair and hooks for personal possession. “You can bar the room from the inside. Just so you know, we don’t allow anyone in after sundown. So whoever is left in the common room will be staying the night. Do you have any questions?”
Meanwhile at Ismark’s table, conversation continues. “Seraphina.. As in angels? Usually outsiders simply find themselves here after getting lost. But if you seek to make a difference then you have come to a place that will gladly accept your aid. Turning to Lyra and Faelar so as not to be rude or seemingly to be ignoring them he asks “and what of you? Do you also seek to be of aid, or do you have other aspirations as well? As strangers in this land you must have questions.. Barovia isn’t like other lands… Or so I’ve been told. I’ve never left myself. Barovia is a hard and troubled land, but it isn’t without it’s beauty and kindness as well. If I can answer any questions you may have I’ll gladly do so.” He smiles and takes a sip of wine.
What are the PCs doing? If any of the PCs wish to make any skill checks for social interactions simply provide me with the result of the roll.
At the Vistani table, Alenka claps her hands together, genuinely impressed both by Kaelen’s subtle coin trick and Borin’s raw display of strength. "Ahh, he is a magician!" she exclaims, turning to Kaelen. "Tell me... Do you do card tricks as well?" She then looks at Borin, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You can bend that back to how it was, yes?" Seemingly happy with her assessment, she turns her attention back to Silas. "Tell Arik what you lads would like for your dinner... He'll have the cook prepare it. Also, the first three rooms are yours for the evening. The few townsfolk will start coming in about two hours before dusk and usually leave just before sunset. You may pass a hat around for tips that you may keep from the crowd." She then leans in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper only Silas can hear. "Just make sure your strongman doesn't bend any more items we use to run the palace... I don't want my cook trying to make breakfast with pans that have been rolled up like a scroll." She leans back, resuming her normal tone. "If this is agreeable, Mirabel will show you to your rooms, where you may leave your belongings."
Silas beams. "Agreeable, Alenka, perfectly agreeable! Consider us at your service. And yes, Kaelen is a master of many such illusions, and Borin's strength is matched only by his respect for a good tavern's property!" He winks at Borin. "We'll let Arik know our culinary preferences."
Kaelen offers Alenka a charming, if slightly mysterious, smile. "Indeed, madam. My repertoire includes a wide array of amusements. Perhaps some card artistry might be on the menu tonight."
Borin grunts in amusement, walking over to the bent poker. With another flex of his powerful arms, he begins to slowly, carefully, bend the iron rod back into its original shape, showing his control over his strength. "No worries, Alenka," he rumbles, "I know the value of good tools."
With the agreement settled, Mirabel steps away from the table and approaches the trio. "Did you have horses? They can be stabled out back... If not, follow me." She doesn't wait for an answer, turning and leading them to a small hall off the common room. She opens three doors, revealing clean, comfortable rooms. Each contains a simple bed, a small wood-burning fireplace, a chair, and hooks for personal possessions. "You can bar the room from the inside," she explains, her tone matter-of-fact. "Just so you know, we don't allow anyone in after sundown. So whoever is left in the common room will be staying the night. Do you have any questions?"
Silas, Kaelen, and Borin look at each other, then back at Mirabel. "No questions for now, Mirabel," Silas says, "Thank you for the hospitality. We'll get our things settled." As Mirabel turns to leave, Kaelen casts a quick, assessing glance around the room, noting the sturdiness of the door and the window, mentally filing away the layout. Borin nods approvingly at the fireplace.
Meanwhile, at Ismark’s table, conversation continues. Ismark looks genuinely interested. "Seraphina... As in angels? Usually, outsiders simply find themselves here after getting lost. But if you seek to make a difference, then you have come to a place that will gladly accept your aid." He turns to Lyra and Faelar, ensuring his politeness extends to them. "And what of you? Do you also seek to be of aid, or do you have other aspirations as well? As strangers in this land, you must have questions... Barovia isn't like other lands... Or so I've been told. I've never left myself. Barovia is a hard and troubled land, but it isn't without its beauty and kindness as well. If I can answer any questions you may have, I'll gladly do so." He smiles, taking a sip of wine.
Seraphina returns Ismark's smile, appreciating his open nature. "Indeed, like angels, though we are but humble servants of light. We seek to ease suffering wherever we find it. And it seems Barovia has much of it."
Lyra listens intently to Ismark, her mind working furiously. She wants to ask about the 'devil,' the 'vampyr,' and the missing children, but she first wants to gauge Ismark himself. Is he truly open, or is there an agenda?
Lyra's Insight Check:
Roll: 14
Lyra's Insight bonus (+1) = 15
Lyra's keen observation suggests that Ismark's earnestness is genuine. He seems sincere in his offer of aid and information. He appears weary, perhaps burdened, but not deceptive. He genuinely seems to want to help or find help.
Feeling a measure of trust, Lyra leans forward slightly, her expression serious. "Ismark, your hospitality is greatly appreciated. You speak of Barovia being a 'hard and troubled land.' We have already encountered some of that trouble ourselves. We met a woman just recently, Mary Gray, whose daughter, Gertruda, disappeared about a week ago. She believes the Vistani took her. Do you know anything of Gertruda's disappearance, or if such things are common here? And you mentioned the Morninglord... is His faith strong here, or is there another... dominant power in Barovia?" She subtly avoids using the word 'devil' directly, but her implications are clear.
Faelar nods politely to Ismark in acknowledgment of his question, but doesn't immediately speak, allowing Seraphina and Lyra to lead the conversation. His gaze remains fixed on Ismark, meticulously observing his facial expressions, his body language, and the nuances of his voice, cross-referencing them with the answers he provides. He notes the faint lines of weariness around Ismark's eyes, suggesting a burden beyond simple village life.
Ismark raises his glass to toast Seraphina “to better days ahead.” as she accurately comments on Barovia.
From her Insight Check Lyra will also get a sense that Ismark is attempting to get an understanding of what type of people have arrived in Barovia. He seems to be interested in confirming they are honest and decent folks.
When she brings up Mary, he sighs. “Mary Gray? Oh.. You mean Mad Mary.” he says this with a glance over to Alenka and Sorvia who are sitting back at the table apparently discussing the entertainment they just hired. “Did you know she used to work here? Sorvia gave her a job as a waitress after her husband was killed by wolves on the road. She was expecting a child and the sisters felt sorry for her. Soriva fired her after she made baseless accusations of the Vistani seducing her husband and then spreading rumors of the sisters wanting to turn this place into a whore house. After that she worked for herself as a seamstress. A few people have seen Gertruda, but she was always at home. Mary was very protective of her. I think she feared that something bad would happen to her. There were always crazy stories about her yelling at people. Did she say it was these Vistani or some other Vistani? There are a number of them. They tend to come and go as they please.”
When she asks if such disappearances are common Ismark pauses in thought. “I don’t recall any reports of children being taken to my father, or even anyone asking to have a disappearance looked into. I’ll check his office to see if there is any mention of it in his journal tonight when I return home..
On the Morning Lord Ismark gives a sort of melancholy smile. Most all worship the Morning Lord in Barovia. When I saw Seraphina I thought she might be here from St. Andral’s Church in Vallaki to assist Father Donovich in setting the Church back to rights. But I see now I was mistaken. As for the Faith. Father Donovich could tell you more if he is so included.. But he has been somewhat depressed for some time and rather isolated. He no longer holds services or mass. He lost his son nearly a year ago. Although if you have questions about the faith and its history, perhaps St. Andral’s church in Vallaki might be the best place to find answers. I’m sorry that may not be the best answer.. But is there anything else I can tell you about our lands?
Noting that Faelar has been quiet, “Faelar? Is there anything you are curious about?”
(Seraphina may make a religion check DC 25 to see if she recalls anything about St. Andral)
A few more patrons come through the door and order drinks and meals.. It seems the dinner crowd has arrived. Ismark looks over the trio at his table. “Have you made arrangements for lodging? It isn’t safe to travel after dark.”
What are the PCs doing? If any of the PCs wish to make any skill checks for social interactions, performances, or any other skill simply provide me with the result of the roll.
At Ismark's Table
Ismark raises his glass to Seraphina. "To better days ahead," he says with a knowing, melancholic smile, acknowledging her accurate assessment of Barovia. Lyra's keen insight confirms that Ismark is also carefully assessing them, seeking to confirm their honesty and decency.
Lyra brings up Mary Gray, and Ismark sighs, a familiar weariness settling over his features. "Mary Gray? Oh... you mean Mad Mary." He glances subtly towards Alenka and Sorvia at the Vistani table, who are now engrossed in discussing the newly hired entertainment. "Did you know she used to work here? Sorvia gave her a job as a waitress after her husband was killed by wolves on the road. She was expecting a child, and the sisters felt sorry for her. Sorvia fired her after she made baseless accusations of the Vistani seducing her husband, and then spreading rumors of the sisters wanting to turn this place into a whorehouse. After that, she worked for herself as a seamstress. A few people have seen Gertruda, but she was always at home. Mary was very protective of her. I think she feared that something bad would happen to her. There were always crazy stories about her yelling at people. Did she say it was these Vistani or some other Vistani? There are a number of them. They tend to come and go as they please."
When Lyra asks if such disappearances are common, Ismark pauses in thought. "I don't recall any reports of children being taken to my father, or even anyone asking to have a disappearance looked into. I'll check his office to see if there is any mention of it in his journal tonight when I return home."
On the Morninglord, Ismark offers a melancholy smile. "Most all worship the Morninglord in Barovia. When I saw Seraphina, I thought she might be here from St. Andral's Church in Vallaki to assist Father Donovich in setting the Church back to rights. But I see now I was mistaken. As for the Faith... Father Donovich could tell you more if he is so inclined. But he has been somewhat depressed for some time and rather isolated. He no longer holds services or mass. He lost his son nearly a year ago. Although if you have questions about the faith and its history, perhaps St. Andral's Church in Vallaki might be the best place to find answers. I'm sorry that may not be the best answer... But is there anything else I can tell you about our lands?"
Noting Faelar's quiet observation, Ismark then turns to him. "Faelar? Is there anything you are curious about?"
A few more patrons shuffle through the door, ordering drinks and meals; the dinner crowd has begun to trickle in. Ismark glances over the trio at his table. "Have you made arrangements for lodging? It isn't safe to travel after dark."
PCs' Actions and Responses
Seraphina listens intently to Ismark's detailed account of Mary Gray and the Vistani, feeling a pang of sympathy for Mary's distorted reality and the tragic loss of her husband. She also processes the information about the Morninglord's faith and the isolated Father Donovich in Vallaki. Ismark's question about St. Andral's Church triggers a memory, and she tries to recall anything specific about it.
Seraphina's Religion Check (DC 25):
Roll: 1d20 + 2 (Wisdom) = 13
Seraphina concentrates, searching her memory for knowledge of St. Andral's Church. While she recalls general tenets of the Morninglord's faith and the importance of places of worship, no specific or unique details about St. Andral's Church in Vallaki come to mind that would meet a DC 25. It seems to be just one of many churches dedicated to the Morninglord.
"Thank you, Ismark," Seraphina responds, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Your honesty is a rare comfort in these lands. We are indeed here to offer aid, and your insights are invaluable. And yes, we have made arrangements for lodging with the Vistani. Your warning about the night is well-heeded."
Lyra takes in every word, connecting Ismark's version of events about "Mad Mary" with her own observations. The details about the Vistani's past with Mary, their ability to "come and go as they please," and the lack of reported disappearances all contribute to her growing understanding of Barovia's unique brand of peril. She also notes the implication that the Vistani might be a distinct group from the "filthy Vistani" Mary spoke of, or simply that Mary's paranoia has a specific focus. She glances at Faelar, silently inviting him to ask his questions.
Faelar acknowledges Ismark's direct question with a calm, steady gaze. "Thank you, Ismark," he says, his voice low and even. "Your honesty is appreciated. You mentioned your father's journal... is he the burgomaster here? And is there anything you can tell us about what truly plagues this land? You spoke of 'hard and troubled' – but what is its true nature? What drives the people to such despair, and what keeps them so isolated?"
At the Vistani Table
Silas, Kaelen, and Borin have just returned from checking their rooms. They are pouring themselves fresh glasses of wine as the dinner crowd begins to trickle in. They watch Ismark's table from a distance, but their immediate focus is on their own situation.
Silas responds to Mirabel, "No horses, thank you, Mirabel. Just ourselves and our humble instruments. The rooms are quite comfortable, and we thank you for your hospitality. We'll be sure to entertain your patrons well tonight." He glances at Kaelen and Borin, ready to discuss their strategy for the evening's performance.
Kaelen inspects his wine with a critical eye, then takes a sip. He's mentally noting the new arrivals and the general atmosphere of the common room. He's also considering what kind of "card artistry" might best serve their purpose tonight while keeping a close eye on the Vistani sisters.
Borin finishes bending the poker back to its original shape and leans it back against the hearth. He takes a large gulp of wine, his gaze sweeping over the growing crowd. He feels a sense of grim satisfaction at having a temporary safe haven, but his guard remains up.
What's Next:
The party is now fully settled into the tavern, with two active lines of inquiry. Ismark is about to answer Faelar's questions, while Silas, Kaelen, and Borin are preparing for their "performance" and establishing themselves with the Vistani.
At Ismark’s Table:
Seraphina suspects that St. Andral must have been someone of some significance to the people of Barovia, but has no knowledge of who they were.
Faelar’s direct questions seem not unwelcome to Ismark. “Yes my father is Kolyan Indirovich.” he pauses for a moment.. “Oh our custom of names must be different than in your lands. Barovian names often end with the masculine “ovich” meaning son of, or the feminine “a” such as my sister's name Kolyana. Both indicate we are children of Kolyan. Forgive me, I forget that outsiders often do not immediately know Barovian customs.”
As to your other questions.. Well they have separate answers. But the mists keep us isolated from the lands beyond. Nobody understands or knows what their true nature is. I’ve heard tales of people trying to leave by walking straight into them, only to find themselves emerging from the same spot they left. Others say that the mists choke you if you wander in too far. To that end only the Vistani can come and go freely through the mists and not end up lost.
There are many forces at work in these lands.. I don’t wish to burden you with all of the griefs of the land as you have just arrived. The dinner crowd is arriving and I do have some responsibilities I must attend to.. If you are spending the night here, may I call upon you tomorrow? It will give me time to check the journals for any reported disappearances as well. I will be free to converse more and perhaps give you some answers that you seek. He looks towards the door apparently checking to see the time of day. If you have other pressing matters and will be moving on, I do understand.
What is the party doing? If any of the PCs wish to make any skill checks for social interactions, performances, or any other skill simply provide me with the result of the roll.
At Ismark's table, the young man's polite answers, intertwined with the ominous reality of Barovia, painted a clearer picture of their predicament. He raised his glass to Seraphina. "To better days ahead," he toasted, acknowledging her accurate assessment of their gloomy surroundings. His explanation of Barovian naming customs was a welcome bit of cultural insight.
As he spoke of the mists, a chilling confirmation settled over Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar. Ismark's words solidified their understanding of Barovia as a true prison, where only the Vistani held the key to free passage. His offer to check his father's journal and speak further tomorrow was a promising lead.
Seraphina offers Ismark a warm, sincere smile. "Thank you, Ismark. Your candor is a great kindness in this land. We are indeed staying the night, and we would be honored to speak with you tomorrow. We are eager to learn more, and perhaps, to truly be of aid."
Lyra nods in agreement, her mind already buzzing with the implications of the mists and the Vistani's unique status. "We look forward to hearing what your father's journals might reveal, Ismark. And your insights into this land are invaluable."
Faelar, addressed directly, offers Ismark a brief, respectful nod. "We would be grateful for your time tomorrow, Ismark. Any knowledge you can share would be a great service."
As the dinner crowd begins to fill the common room, Ismark gives a final, apologetic smile. "Excellent. Then I shall look for you in the morning. Enjoy your dinner and the performance." He then rises from the table, offering a polite bow, and moves off to attend to his responsibilities, disappearing into the growing bustle of the tavern.
With Ismark departed, Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar gather with Silas, Kaelen, and Borin, who are just settling in after checking their rooms. The six companions huddle discreetly near the bar, their voices low.
"He's the Burgomaster's son," Seraphina quickly explains, her voice hushed. "Kolyan Indirovich. And he confirmed it: the mists trap everyone here. Only the Vistani can leave. He's offered to check his father's journals about disappearances, like Gertruda, and speak more tomorrow."
"He also mentioned that Father Donovich at St. Andral's Church in Vallaki is isolated and no longer holds services since losing his son," Lyra adds, lowering her voice. "And Mary Gray? He calls her 'Mad Mary.' She worked here before, was fired for spreading rumors about the Vistani and her husband."
"So the Vistani are our only way out, if we ever need it," Kaelen mutters, glancing at the Vistani sisters with new intensity. "And they're watching us." He then recounts his and Borin's 'performance' and Alenka's offer. "We've got rooms, and dinner for the night. Silas needs to put on a show for tips. And Borin, no more bending their kitchenware."
Borin grunts. "Got it. No bending pans. Good to have a roof for the night."
"So, two leads," Silas summarizes, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Ismark tomorrow, and the Vistani tonight. We perform, we eat, and we watch. We need to figure out what these Vistani truly know about Gertruda, and if they really 'serve the devil,' as Mary claims."
The Party's Actions: The party, having consolidated their information and confirmed their lodging for the night, now shifts their focus to their immediate arrangements.
Silas will approach Arik the barkeep to inquire about dinner for the group, making sure to claim it as part of their performance arrangement with Alenka.
Kaelen and Borin will move to a table that allows them to observe both the Vistani sisters and the general tavern crowd, maintaining a subtle vigilance.
Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar will find a table nearby, continuing their discrete observations and resting after their initial foray into Barovia's grim reality. They'll also keep an eye on Silas as he prepares for his evening performance.
The group will remain watchful for any suspicious behavior from the Vistani, the barkeep, or the newly arriving patrons as the evening progresses.
(What is the passive perception of Seraphina, Lyra and Faelar? If it is 13 or better they notice Ismark speaking to Sorvia before leaving, he hands her a few coins and then goes on his way..)
Arik slowly looks up at Silas and points to the end of the bar where three meals and glasses of wine have been set out for him, Kaelen and Borin. “On the house since you are performing.. You should hurry.. Lots of folk leave once they finish dinner.” He then goes back to cleaning a glass.
A few moments later Sorvia comes over to the table. “Ladies.. It seems the lesser has paid for your meal and rooms for the evening.. You as well.” she says, indicating Faelar. “He says he will stop by shortly after noon tomorrow. If you follow me, I can show you to your rooms, your things will be safe there.”
With that she will lead them to a different set of rooms, nicer ones than what Silas, Kaelen and Borin were given. These have a bed large enough for two people, a standing mirror and a wardrobe, a copper tub and separate fireplaces in each room. “I shall have a fire started after dinner is finished.. The cold Barovian nights are not welcome inside. If any of you require a bath, I can have water brought up and heated, but I need to know now, as I won’t be sending out anyone after sundown.”
What are the PCs doing? If any of the PCs wish to make any skill checks for social interactions, performances, or any other skill simply provide me with the result of the roll.
Faelar's Observation (Passive Perception 14):
As Ismark bids farewell to Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar, Faelar's keen senses, honed by his ranger training, subtly track his movement. Just before Ismark exits the tavern door, Faelar distinctly sees him approach Sorvia, one of the Vistani sisters. They exchange a few hushed words, too low for Faelar to discern, and then, Ismark presses a few coins into Sorvia's palm. The gesture is quick, almost imperceptible, and Ismark then slips out into the fog. Faelar’s brow furrows almost imperceptibly. He doesn't comment on it yet, but the unusual exchange is filed away for later discussion with his companions.
At Silas, Kaelen, and Borin's End of the Bar:
Arik, the bartender, slowly looks up at Silas, his dull gaze pointing towards the end of the bar where three meals and glasses of wine have been set out. "On the house, since you are performing," he drones, his voice flat. "You should hurry... Lots of folk leave once they finish dinner." He then resumes his mindless glass cleaning.
Silas nods, his charm still intact despite the bartender's apathy. "Much obliged, Arik. Excellent timing." He gestures to the meals. "Looks like our audience won't go hungry, either." He then turns to Kaelen and Borin, grabbing a plate. "Looks like dinner is served, lads. And a quick one, by the sounds of it. We'll eat and then prepare for the show."
Kaelen takes a plate, his eyes scanning the room, already assessing the dwindling number of seats and the flow of the new patrons. "Sounds like a plan. Best to be ready when the real crowd gets here."
Borin, ever pragmatic, simply grabs a plate of food and a glass of wine, already beginning to eat with quiet efficiency. His gaze periodically sweeps the room, noting the Vistani women and the overall atmosphere.
At Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar's Table:
A few moments after Ismark's departure, Sorvia approaches their table. Her face is unsmiling, but her words are direct. "Ladies... It seems the lesser has paid for your meal and rooms for the evening. You as well," she adds, indicating Faelar with a slight nod. "He says he will stop by shortly after noon tomorrow. If you follow me, I can show you to your rooms; your things will be safe there."
Sorvia then turns and leads them to a different set of rooms down a separate, slightly better-kept hall. She opens three doors, revealing quarters noticeably more comfortable than the ones Silas, Kaelen, and Borin were shown. Each room boasts a bed large enough for two, a standing mirror, a wardrobe, a gleaming copper tub, and its own separate fireplace.
"I shall have a fire started after dinner is finished," Sorvia states, her voice devoid of emotion. "The cold Barovian nights are not welcome inside. If any of you require a bath, I can have water brought up and heated, but I need to know now, as I won't be sending out anyone after sundown."
Seraphina looks at the comfortable room, then at Lyra and Faelar. The offer is substantial. "Thank you, Sorvia, that is very generous," Seraphina says, her tone genuinely appreciative. "We accept the rooms with gratitude. And yes, a bath would be a blessing after our journey. If it's not too much trouble."
Lyra glances at the copper tub with a hint of longing. The prospect of warmth and cleanliness is tempting. "A bath would be wonderful, thank you, Sorvia," she confirms, her analytical mind already processing the difference in amenities between their rooms and the men's – a deliberate choice by the Vistani.
Faelar nods to Sorvia. "The rooms are most welcome. And yes, a bath sounds good." He takes a quick, subtle glance around the room, noting the exits and the quality of the furnishings, already planning how to secure it later. His mind, however, is still replaying the scene of Ismark handing coins to Sorvia, a detail he knows he must share with the others at the earliest opportunity.
PCs' Current State: The party is now fully settled into the tavern's hospitality. Silas, Kaelen, and Borin are at the bar, eating their "free" dinner and preparing for the evening's performance. Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar are being shown to their superior rooms and have requested baths, having secured a comfortable base of operations. Faelar alone holds a suspicious piece of information about Ismark and Sorvia. The stage is set for the evening in the Blood on the Vine Tavern.
About 10 minutes later two stable boys bring up several buckets of hot water. As they are doing so Mirabel appears and inquires if Seraphina, Lyra and Faelar wish to have their meals brought up or if they wish to eat later. She also brings sets of brushes and straight razors soap and effects for bathing. Before leaving she adds “If you require anything else, let us know and it will be provided. Do be aware. The doors outside are barred at sundown and nobody is permitted in after that time. They are open again in the morning. You will find a breakfast for you tomorrow in the tavern. Let us know if you need anything else.” and with that she leaves.
What will Seraphina, Lyra and Faelar do?
Meanwhile in the Tavern the room has gotten a good number of people in. Silas, Kaelen and Borin have finished their meals and wine.
The three Vistani owners seem to be busy talking with guests, playing cards, or ensuring the needs of the inn are met.
What are Silas, Kaelen and Borin doing?
The low hum of conversation and the clinking of mugs from the common room filter faintly into the quieter hall as two stable boys, red-faced from the heat, bring several steaming buckets of water into Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar's rooms. Just as they finish, Mirabel appears, her arms laden with towels, brushes, straight razors, and small pots of fragrant soap and oils.
"If you require anything else, let us know and it will be provided," Mirabel states, her tone even. "Do be aware. The doors outside are barred at sundown, and nobody is permitted in after that time. They are open again in the morning. You will find a breakfast for you tomorrow in the tavern. Let us know if you need anything else." With that, she gives a curt nod and departs, leaving them to their privacy.
Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar in their Rooms:
Seraphina turns to her companions, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Our hosts are certainly... accommodating. And these rooms are a luxury." She then addresses Mirabel's last question, raising her voice slightly so Mirabel can hear her as she leaves. "Thank you, Mirabel. We would prefer to take our dinner in the common room, with our companions, once we are refreshed." She looks at Lyra and Faelar. "A bath sounds divine. We should make it quick, though. It seems the night will be upon us soon."
Lyra lets out a small sigh of contentment at the sight of the hot water and bath supplies. "Indeed. A moment of cleanliness is a rare gift in this land." She begins to prepare for a quick wash, her mind already racing with the implications of the Vistani's precise rules about sundown.
Faelar, however, holds up a hand, his gaze serious. "Before we immerse ourselves," he says, his voice low, "there's something I need to tell you two." He waits until the stable boys have left and the door is closed, ensuring privacy. "When Ismark left the tavern, he spoke briefly with Sorvia, the Vistani sister. I saw him hand her some coins. It was quick, and subtle." He looks from Seraphina to Lyra, his eyes reflecting his suspicion. "He just paid for our rooms and meals... but why pay Sorvia directly, and so discreetly, if it was purely an act of hospitality?"
Seraphina's brow furrows in thought. "Interesting," she murmurs. "He seemed so genuinely concerned."
Lyra's eyes narrow. "A form of payment, perhaps, to ensure their good behavior towards us? Or to ensure a particular kind of hospitality? It's a curious detail, Faelar. Good eye."
"Regardless," Faelar continues, "it suggests Ismark has a deeper connection or understanding of the Vistani than he lets on, or that he's trying to influence their treatment of us. We should be mindful of that, especially with this 'no one after sundown' rule. We'll discuss it fully with Silas and the others when we meet them in the common room."
With the information shared and processed, the three quickly take turns bathing, washing away the grime and chill of the Barovian roads. They change into fresh clothes, feeling a tangible improvement in their spirits, and then prepare to head back down to the common room to join their companions.
Silas, Kaelen, and Borin in the Tavern Common Room:
The tavern has indeed filled considerably. The low murmur of conversation has risen to a general hum, punctuated by the clinking of mugs and occasional bursts of laughter. The faces are grim and tired, typical of Barovian townsfolk, but there's a fragile sense of community in their shared presence around the tavern's scant warmth. The three Vistani owners, Alenka, Mirabel, and Sorvia, are indeed busy. Alenka is engaged in a boisterous card game with a couple of burly men, while Mirabel moves between tables, serving drinks, and Sorvia counts coin at a small, guarded station near the door, occasionally exchanging sharp glances with patrons.
Silas, Kaelen, and Borin have finished their meals, their plates pushed aside. Silas drains the last of his wine, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, assessing the mood, and mentally rehearsing some opening lines for his performance. He's waiting for Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar to return before beginning, wanting the full "troupe" to be present.
Kaelen, ever the observer, casually nurses his own wine. His eyes dart around the room, picking out details: the number of patrons, their types (mostly common folk, a few hunters perhaps), the general layout, and potential points of interest. He notices Sorvia's continued watchfulness by the door, and the occasional, almost imperceptible glances the Vistani women give towards the bar. He also keeps an eye on Arik, the motionless barkeep.
Borin, having finished his meal with gusto, sits with a quiet watchfulness. He projects an aura of relaxed power, his presence a silent deterrent. His gaze is less about specific details and more about the overall security of the room, identifying potential threats or points of conflict. He notes the general solemnity of the townsfolk, even in their leisure.
(Each of the PCs upstairs has a separate bath in their own room. So they don’t need to take turns.) The baths are relaxing and offer a bit of comfort to the three who have had a long day, and the rooms offer a good bit of privacy as the door can be barred from the inside. How long will they each take in bathing and prepping? Is it a quick soak or are they going to do their hair, and/or unwind a bit?
Meanwhile downstairs it seems the palace is about half full.. Alenka notices the three haven’t started working the room and goes over to Silas. “You might want to get started.. We call last call thirty minutes before sundown, and everyone not staying has to leave ten minutes before.” It isn’t safe to go out at night. I’d say you have about two hours to earn coin.
What are the PCs doing? If any of the PCs wish to make any skill checks for social interactions, performances, or any other skill simply provide me with the result of the roll.
Upstairs: Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar
The individual copper tubs prove to be an unexpected luxury. The hot water, the soft soap, and the privacy are a welcome respite from the long, grim day. They each take a good 30 minutes to luxuriate in the warmth, washing away not just the grime of travel, but also some of the pervasive chill of Barovia. They take their time to unwind a bit, brush their hair, and ensure they look presentable after the day's trials. The comfort of the heated water and the security of the barred doors offer a moment of fleeting peace. They emerge feeling remarkably refreshed, the weariness having been washed away, leaving them more alert and ready for the evening.
Downstairs: Silas, Kaelen, and Borin
The tavern common room has indeed grown significantly busier, now at about half capacity. The air is thick with the smell of cheap wine, unwashed bodies, and the simmering meals. Alenka, ever watchful, notices that the entertainers haven't begun their work. She approaches Silas, her hands on her hips.
"You might want to get started," she advises, her voice clear above the din. "We call last call thirty minutes before sundown, and everyone not staying has to leave ten minutes before. It isn't safe to go out at night. I'd say you have about two hours to earn coin."
Silas nods, acknowledging the tight schedule. "Understood, Alenka. We'll be ready. Just awaiting the rest of our troupe." He glances towards the hall where Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar disappeared. He understands the urgency but wants to present a unified front.
Kaelen continues his quiet observations, noting the types of patrons – mostly haggard villagers, a few larger, rougher individuals who look like hunters or trappers. He watches their interactions with the Vistani, seeing the Vistani owners move with an easy familiarity among the crowd, yet maintaining an air of subtle authority.
Borin, now finished with his meal, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He remains at their table, a silent sentinel. He notes the way people quickly consume their food and drink, clearly mindful of the approaching deadline.
Reunion and Performance:
Roughly thirty minutes later, Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar descend the stairs, looking noticeably refreshed and more composed. Seraphina's holy symbol gleams subtly against her clean tunic. Lyra's hair is neatly done, and Faelar's usually stoic expression seems a touch less grim.
Silas catches sight of them and grins, standing up. "Ah, the rest of our esteemed troupe! Right on time!" He gestures to the empty chairs at their table, indicating they should join. Once they're settled, and with the full party now reunited, Silas takes a deep breath, and with a flourish, readies his lute.
"Good evening, good people of Barovia!" Silas's voice, amplified by his bardic training, rings out over the tavern's din, instantly capturing attention. "We are travelers from distant lands, and it is our great pleasure to bring you a few moments of warmth and song on this cold Barovian eve! My name is Silas, and these are my companions. We hope our performance brings you a little cheer!"
He strums a lively, inviting chord, designed to cut through the tavern's melancholic atmosphere. He decides on a more upbeat, yet still Barovian-themed, tune to kick off the evening, hoping to encourage tips and goodwill. It's a song about travelers finding solace in unexpected places, but with a lingering undertone of the strange, unyielding nature of the road.
Silas's Performance Check:
Roll: 1d20 + 5 (Performance) = 17
Silas's performance is captivating. His voice carries easily, his lute-playing is skillful, and his chosen tune, while still fitting Barovia's mood, possesses a subtle energy that encourages swaying heads and the tapping of feet. He moves among the tables, engaging patrons with his eyes and his music, a charismatic presence in the otherwise dreary room. He effortlessly weaves short anecdotes of "travel" (vague enough to apply to their recent struggles) between verses, drawing a few weary smiles from the townsfolk. The performance is solid, professional, and clearly appreciated by the tavern's current patrons, opening the door for potential interaction.
Kaelen subtly positions himself to observe the reactions of the Vistani and the patrons during Silas's performance. He notes which faces seem more receptive, and which remain closed off.
Borin stands near Silas, a silent, imposing guardian, his presence a clear statement that the "troupe" is not to be trifled with. He occasionally nods along to the more rhythmic parts of the song, his eyes scanning for trouble.
Seraphina, Lyra, and Faelar settle at their table, eating the meal that arrives shortly after Silas begins his performance. They watch Silas with a mixture of pride and strategic interest, observing how the Vistani and the townsfolk react. Faelar discreetly shares his observation about Ismark paying Sorvia with the whole group in hushed tones during a pause in Silas's song, adding another layer to their understanding of the tavern's complex dynamics.
Downstairs Alenka seems annoyed with the delay, but once the music starts she seems happy. Kaelen notes that some of the patrons are farmers and others are simple townsfolk and commoners. Likely shopkeepers, and bakers. It seems nearly everyone knows everyone else. One person of note is a tall fellow who is clearly used to physical activity from his muscular build. Two other people of note walk in. One is finely dressed and the other slightly less so, but he is a barrel of a man, with a child-like expression on his face of happiness. They sit at a table and order food.
Silas’s song goes over well with the crowd. People give a bit of a cheer when he ends it. A number of patrons laugh when he relates some more amusing anecdotes. Some coins are dropped into a hat as it gets passed around (15 cp and 6 silver)
Most seem happy, what is the party doing next?
Silas's initial song has broken through the Barovian gloom, eliciting cheers and laughter from the tavern's patrons. As the last notes fade, people clap and a smattering of coins, 15 cp and 6 sp, are dropped into the hat passed around. Alenka, who had initially seemed annoyed by the delay, now watches with a satisfied nod. Kaelen notes the crowd's composition: a mix of weathered farmers, tired shopkeepers, and common folk, most of whom seem to know each other.
Three new individuals stand out: a tall, muscular man who looks hardened by physical labor; a finely dressed individual who exudes an air of subtle authority; and a barrel-chested man with a surprisingly childlike, happy expression, less finely dressed but clearly not a common laborer. They order food and settle at a table, their arrival unnoticed by the now-appreciative crowd.
The Party's Next Moves:
The party quickly acknowledges Silas's successful first foray. They know they have limited time before last call, so the performance must continue. Their immediate goal remains to observe, gain favor with the Vistani, and look for opportunities to gather information from the patrons.
Silas grins at the reception, taking the hat filled with coins. He places it on their table, giving a brief, silent nod of acknowledgment to his companions. He then raises his lute again, ready to dive into his next piece, choosing a slightly more adventurous, yet still folksy, tune designed to keep the crowd engaged and potentially draw out more expressions or reactions from the notable patrons. He aims to make himself approachable and to gauge who might be inclined to conversation later.
Kaelen shifts his attention to the three new arrivals. His rogue's eyes subtly track their movements, their interactions, and their reactions to Silas's music and the tavern's atmosphere. He tries to discern their relationship to each other and their standing in the community. He also maintains a watchful eye on the Vistani sisters, noting their movements and who they seem to be paying attention to.
Borin, now fully in his role as the 'strongman' and silent guardian, maintains his imposing presence at their table. He casts a long, assessing look at the muscular newcomer, recognizing a fellow physically capable man. His gaze then sweeps the rest of the tavern, ready to react to any shift in mood or potential trouble.
Seraphina sips her wine, a small, knowing smile on her face as she watches Silas work his magic. She observes the faces of the patrons, looking for signs of genuine solace or deeper sorrow. She also takes note of the newcomers, subtly trying to gauge their demeanor from afar, seeking any sign of a soul in need of comfort or aid.
Lyra continues her quiet analysis. She observes the new patrons, trying to mentally categorize them based on their dress and apparent demeanor. She's particularly interested in the finely dressed man and the seemingly cheerful, barrel-chested one, wondering if they hold any significant positions or possess unusual knowledge of Barovia. She listens to Silas's music, considering how it affects the various groups in the room.
Faelar, while enjoying the brief reprieve of the food and the music, remains on high alert. His earlier observation about Ismark and Sorvia is still fresh in his mind, adding a layer of suspicion to every interaction he witnesses. He continues his overall scan of the room, looking for any hidden details or subtle shifts in power dynamics, especially among the Vistani.
The party waits for Silas to begin his next song, maintaining their roles of watchful entertainers and curious newcomers, ready to react to any developments as the evening unfolds.
Silas begins his next song and he can tell from the reaction of the patrons that they don’t often get a lot of talented bards passing through here. These people seem to be eating up his performance with great appreciation. When his song ends he has six more copper and two silver.
Kaelen watching the Vistani notes they seem happy with Silas. Alenka chats with a couple of townsfolk who look like regulars and a few coins change hands. Both parties seem happy. MIrabel is sitting and watching the show, she is immensely enjoying the skilled performance. Sorvia is moving back and forth between the kitchen and bar areas. Occasionally stopping off to chat with a patron at the bar, but never too long. Kaelen gets the impression she is checking on folks to see if they need anything. It appears to be a rush hour for the kitchen as food and drink are coming out quite frequently.
Seraphina doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and finds the wine to be particularly good for a table wine. (It is similar to a Malbec)
Lyra notes the well dressed man and the barrel-chested one don’t seem to be interacting much with the others. In fact some of the locals seem to be ignoring them outright. The barrel-chested one is fully delighted with the performance of Silas, clapping, tapping his foot and even attempting to sing along. After a moment or two she realizes the man is a simpleton. Likely the well dressed man is the one who takes care of him.
Faelar isn’t seeing anything that jumps out at him as suspicious at the moment. The Vistani seem to busy themselves and the Silas seems to have won over the crowd.
After another song with much of the same, what is the party doing?
Silas's second song, much like his first, is a resounding success. He can clearly tell that talented bards are a rare commodity in Barovia; the patrons are devouring his performance with an almost desperate appreciation. As the final notes fade, another round of applause and cheers erupts, and more coins clink into the hat: 6 cp and 2 sp, bringing their total to 21 cp and 8 sp.
Kaelen watches the Vistani owners, noting Alenka's satisfied expression and her continued, busy chatter with what appear to be regulars, coins changing hands discreetly. Mirabel is completely absorbed in the show, her face reflecting genuine enjoyment. Sorvia, ever efficient, moves constantly between the bustling kitchen and the bar, occasionally pausing to check on patrons, her movements suggesting she's ensuring everything runs smoothly and everyone's needs are met. The tavern is indeed in full swing, with food and drink flowing steadily.
Seraphina sips her wine, finding it surprisingly palatable for a common tavern wine—rich and full-bodied, akin to a good Malbec. She scans the room, but finds nothing overtly out of the ordinary, merely a busy tavern filled with weary Barovian souls finding brief respite.
Lyra's attention remains fixed on the well-dressed man and his barrel-chested companion. She notices they largely keep to themselves, and that many of the locals seem to pointedly ignore them. The barrel-chested man, however, is a picture of pure delight, clapping, tapping his foot, and even attempting to sing along with Silas's tune, though his efforts are off-key and mumbled. After a moment, Lyra's astute observation leads her to the conclusion that the man is a simpleton, likely under the care of the well-dressed individual.
Faelar continues his quiet vigilance. He observes the Vistani, seeing them busy with the tavern's operations rather than engaging in anything immediately suspicious. Silas has clearly won over the crowd, and for now, the immediate environment seems relatively stable.
The Party's Next Moves:
With the crowd clearly receptive and the tips rolling in, Silas knows his performance is a valuable asset. They still have time before last call, and the more coin they gather, the better. The immediate goal is to keep the energy flowing and continue observing the new, notable patrons.
Silas strums his lute again, a warm, inviting smile on his face. He launches into another cheerful, yet still subtly melancholic, folk song, this one with a catchy chorus that he subtly encourages the crowd to join in with. He particularly focuses his gaze on the simpleton and the well-dressed man, hoping to draw them further into the performance's spell without being too obvious.
Silas's Performance Check:
Roll: 1d20 + 5 (Performance) = 16
Silas's third song is as well-received as the previous two. The crowd enjoys the chance to sing along with the chorus, and a few more coins trickle into the hat as it makes another pass. The simpleton's delight becomes even more pronounced, his off-key singing a loud, joyful addition to the background. The well-dressed man remains stoic, but Lyra notes a slight, almost imperceptible nod of appreciation from him during the song's more poignant verses.
Kaelen maintains his vigilant observation, particularly focusing on the Vistani sisters' reactions to the increasingly lively atmosphere. He notices Sorvia's gaze occasionally flick towards the well-dressed man and the simpleton, though she makes no move to approach them.
Borin remains watchful, his gaze sweeping the room. He notes the growing good cheer in the tavern, but his posture remains ready, a silent bulwark for the group.
Seraphina allows herself to be drawn into the shared joy of the performance, though her compassion still extends to the weary faces in the crowd. She silently thanks the Morninglord for these brief moments of light in the darkness.
Lyra continues to observe the well-dressed man and the simpleton, refining her assessment. Their aloofness from the rest of the townsfolk suggests they are either outsiders or hold a very different social standing. She quietly wonders if the simpleton's uninhibited joy could be a weakness to exploit for information, or if his caretaker would be too protective.
Faelar, now fully aware of the time ticking towards sundown, watches the entrance of the tavern, noting the decreasing frequency of new arrivals. He still sees nothing overtly suspicious, but the Vistani's strict adherence to their "sundown" rules keeps his senses sharp.
The party continues to ride the wave of Silas's performance, allowing the music to be their shield and their probe, while they subtly gather more information about Barovia's inhabitants.
Silas draws some attention to the simpleton who is like a kid in a candy store and stands up and starts to sing and dance, in poor mimicry of Sials, but in good nature. This is a bit of a shock to the well dressed man who has finished his food and was sipping a wine.. “Perrywimple, what are you doing? Sit down, you're making a spectacle!” His pleas are ignored and this gets a great reaction from the crowd. They laugh as he clumsily attempts to dance. “Perry please before…” as the well dressed man says this the big oaf of a simpleton stumbles a few steps and starts falling towards Borin.
What is Borin and the rest of the party doing? If Borin wants to get out of the way I need a dexterity check, if he is going to try to catch Perrywinple I need an athletics check.
Silas's music, designed to engage, has truly captivated Perrywimple. The simpleton, like a kid in a candy store, stands up, a wide, joyful grin splitting his face, and begins to sing and dance in a clumsy, off-key mimicry of Silas. The performance is good-natured but utterly lacking in grace.
This sudden outburst jolts the well-dressed man, who has just finished his meal and was quietly sipping his wine. "Perrywimple, what are you doing?" he hisses, his voice tight with mortification. "Sit down, you're making a spectacle!" His pleas are ignored as the crowd erupts in laughter, delighted by the simpleton's uninhibited, if clumsy, attempts at dancing. "Perry, please, before..." the well-dressed man groans, but it's too late. With a clumsy lurch, Perrywimple stumbles, his substantial weight carrying him off balance, and he begins to topple directly towards Borin.
Borin's instincts, honed by countless hours of training and protecting, kick in instantly. He's not one to shy away from a challenge or let an innocent fall. He doesn't attempt to dodge. Instead, he braces himself, his massive frame shifting, his powerful arms extending to meet the impact.
Borin's Strength (Athletics) Check (to catch Perrywimple):
Roll: 1d20 + 6 (Athletics) = 18
With a grunt of effort, Borin catches Perrywimple mid-fall. The simpleton's considerable weight nearly knocks the wind out of Borin, but the fighter's sheer strength is more than equal to the task. He steadies the flailing man, preventing him from hitting the floor with a painful thud, and gently, but firmly, guides him back to a standing position, steadying him like an oak tree anchoring a small boat in a storm. The clumsy dance stops abruptly, Perrywimple blinking in surprise but seemingly unharmed.
The tavern, which had erupted in laughter, now lets out a collective gasp, quickly followed by a murmuring of impressed whispers at Borin's display of strength and quick reflexes.
Silas, who had been singing, trails off momentarily, his eyes wide as the scene unfolds. He watches Borin effortlessly catch the stumbling man, and a relieved smile spreads across his face. This was an unexpected turn, but a very good one for the "strongman" persona.
Kaelen's eyes dart between Borin, Perrywimple, and the well-dressed man. He notes the well-dressed man's relief, quickly masked by his continued embarrassment. He also observes the crowd's impressed reaction to Borin's strength, and for a fleeting moment, he catches Sorvia's sharp gaze flicker approvingly at Borin from across the room.
Seraphina visibly tenses as Perrywimple begins to fall, a gasp escaping her lips. When Borin smoothly catches him, a wave of relief washes over her, and she offers Borin a grateful, approving look. Her concern now shifts towards the visibly distressed well-dressed man and the bewildered Perrywimple.
Lyra watches the entire sequence with keen interest. She notes the simpleton's uninhibited joy, the caretaker's immediate distress, and Borin's impressive, almost casual display of power. She subtly observes the reactions of the other patrons and the Vistani, seeing how this incident changes the dynamic of the room.
Faelar remains vigilant, his hand subconsciously hovering near his bow. He watched Borin's quick action, impressed by his companion's strength. His gaze sweeps the rest of the room, looking for any other unexpected reactions or movements, ensuring no one tries to take advantage of the momentary spectacle.
With an 18, Born prevents Perrywimple from falling and perhaps crushing him in the process. The poor oaf doesn’t seem to know what to do having fallen and seemingly stood back up by Born. It is the well dressed man who breaks the silence.. “Perry.. What do we say to the nice dwarf?” The look of confusion is replaced with a smile as he says “Thank you” and suddenly picks the dwarf up in a big hug lifting him up off his feet.
He sets him down a moment later and the well dressed man seeing his and Perrywimple’s meals have been finished he gathers his things and makes his way to the door.. “Come along Parry, we’ve had our fun, now it's time to go. We can come back tomorrow.” The smiling simpleton looks back at the well dressed man and says “OK” and goes over to leave as well. Before he leaves he turns to the dwarf and waves and says “Bye, bye!” and the two walk out of the Tavern and head across the square.
What are the PCs doing?
Borin, with an effortless strength that belies the simpleton's bulk, gently sets Perrywimple back down on his feet. The poor oaf blinks, a fleeting look of confusion on his face, having seemingly fallen and been righted without fully grasping the physics of it. It's the well-dressed man who breaks the stunned silence, his voice a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. "Perry... What do we say to the nice dwarf?"
The confusion on Perrywimple's face dissolves into a wide, happy smile. "Thank you!" he exclaims, and to Borin's utter surprise, the simpleton suddenly wraps the mighty dwarf in a bear hug, lifting him clean off his feet for a breathless moment before setting him down with a jovial thud.
The well-dressed man, seeing that his and Perrywimple's meals are finished, quickly gathers his things. "Come along, Perry, we've had our fun, now it's time to go. We can come back tomorrow." Perrywimple, still smiling, looks back at his caretaker and simply says, "OK." Before he leaves, he turns back to Borin, waves enthusiastically, and calls out, "Bye, bye!" The two then walk out of the tavern and head across the square, disappearing into the gathering dusk.
The Party's Actions:
Borin, after being unexpectedly hugged by the simpleton, stands for a moment, a rare flicker of surprise crossing his stoic face. He recovers quickly, giving a slight, almost imperceptible nod to Perrywimple's cheerful farewell. He watches the duo leave, his gaze lingering on their retreating forms as they cross the square, a new, peculiar experience added to his day.
Silas, his song momentarily paused by the unexpected spectacle, chuckles warmly as Perrywimple and his caretaker depart. He takes a moment to quickly check on Borin with a raised eyebrow, then lowers his voice, leaning in towards the others. "Well, that was certainly... memorable," he whispers, a slight smile playing on his lips. "They're gone for now, but they said they'll be back. A potential lead for tomorrow. For now, the show must go on!" He gives his lute a quick, resolute strum, ready to resume his performance, but the brief interlude allows for a quick, silent exchange of thoughts.
Kaelen's sharp eyes follow the departing duo, noting the direction they take across the square. He observes the well-dressed man's subtle urgency, confirming his assessment that the man was eager to remove Perrywimple from the situation. He makes a mental note of their description and their promise to return.
Seraphina feels a pang of gentle amusement and compassion watching the interaction. She gives Borin a soft, approving look for his handling of the situation. She also notes the caretaker's hurried departure, understanding his desire to avoid further "spectacle" with his charge.
Lyra watches the entire interaction with keen interest, particularly the simpleton's uninhibited affection and the caretaker's embarrassed relief. She notes the well-dressed man's promise to return. "A unique dynamic," she murmurs quietly to the party, "and a potential source of information if we approach them carefully tomorrow."
Faelar observes the hurried departure of Perrywimple and his caretaker, his gaze remaining analytical. He notes the well-dressed man's desire to leave and the simplicity of Perrywimple's obedience. He processes this alongside his earlier observation about Ismark paying Sorvia, realizing that the tavern seems to be a hub where different, perhaps isolated, segments of Barovian society briefly intersect. He's already considering how these various threads might connect.
The brief interruption over, Silas launches back into his performance, his voice once again filling the tavern, drawing the attention of the remaining patrons. The party, now fully debriefed on all the evening's developments, settles back into their roles of entertainers and observers, ready to navigate whatever else the Barovian night in the Blood on the Vine Tavern might bring.
(Does Kaelen make a move toward a door or window to watch where the two go? Or is he just noting the general direction?)
Kaelen, ever the cautious rogue, doesn't make a direct move towards a door or window to overtly track Perrywimple and his caretaker. Such a blatant action would draw unnecessary attention. Instead, he subtly shifts his position slightly, allowing him to observe the direction they take as they leave the tavern. He notes that they head across the square, disappearing into the fog-shrouded streets. He commits the general direction to memory, intending to explore that part of town if the opportunity arises.
Understood.. I’ll say that if he maneuvers across the room he can get a line of site on the two crossing the square. They stop in front of the shop he has passed twice prior. The well dressed man reaches into his pocket and produces a key to the store “Bildrath’s Mercantile” and the two enter.
Kaelen, with the practiced subtlety of a shadow, maneuvers himself through the shifting patrons, appearing to simply be stretching his legs or admiring a hanging lantern. From his new vantage point, he gains a clear line of sight through the tavern's window, across the mist-shrouded square.
He sees them: Perrywimple and the well-dressed man. They don't vanish into the oppressive fog, but stop in front of a familiar building—the very shop Kaelen has passed twice prior. The well-dressed man reaches into his pocket, produces a key, and unlocks the door of Bildrath's Mercantile. With a final glance back at the tavern, the two step inside, and the door clicks shut behind them.
Kaelen's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. He registers the information: Perrywimple and his caretaker reside at or own Bildrath's Mercantile. This is a solid lead for tomorrow. He subtly shifts his posture again, blending back into the edge of the crowd, his face betraying nothing. He won't share this aloud while Silas is performing, but the knowledge now solidifies his understanding of who these two might be in the local Barovian tapestry.
Meanwhile, Silas continues his song, his voice filling the common room with another engaging tune. The rest of the party maintains their observant watch, still unaware of Kaelen's specific discovery, as the evening progresses in the Blood on the Vine Tavern.
OK I’m going to say the rest of the evening goes smoothly and without incident. (Will any of the other party members attempt to amuse the crowd or are they letting Silas do all the work?) True to their word the owners call last call and give everyone twenty minutes to finish their drinks.
Shortly after that patrons start to leave. Some are quite inebriated but seem capable of stumbling on home. The crowd seems really happy with the performance of Silas. (He gets another 30 silver and 42 copper pieces) Once the customers are out the bartender cleans the bar area, one of the boys who hauled up the water sweeps the floor, while another busses the tables. Just before sundown the door is shut and a heavy bar is placed across it, ensuring no late night patrons come stumbling back in.
Alenka approaches Silas, quite happy with the results. “You did well.. If you are here tomorrow, more will show, once word goes around. She nods towards the table the group was sitting at.. If you want more food or wine Arik will provide it.. You may stay up as late as you like, and enjoy the tavern..” with that she joins her sisters who are seemingly setting up another round of cards at their table.
What is the party doing?
The rest of the evening unfolds smoothly, a testament to Silas's skill and the tavern's surprisingly well-run operation. No other party members attempt to amuse the crowd, letting Silas command the stage. True to their word, the Vistani owners call last call exactly thirty minutes before sundown, giving everyone twenty minutes to finish their drinks.
As the final patrons shuffle out into the encroaching twilight, some quite inebriated but seemingly capable of finding their way home, the common room begins to quiet. The crowd has clearly been won over by Silas's performance, leaving behind a generous bounty of 30 silver and 42 copper pieces in the hat. Once the customers are gone, Arik the bartender methodically cleans the bar area, one stable boy sweeps the floor, while another efficiently busses the tables. Just before the last sliver of sun dips below the horizon, the heavy tavern door is shut with a resounding thud, and a thick wooden bar is slid into place across it, sealing the inn from the dangers of the Barovian night.
Alenka approaches Silas, her face alight with genuine pleasure. "You did well," she praises, a rare smile gracing her lips. "If you are here tomorrow, more will show, once word goes around." She gestures towards the table where the group is gathered. "If you want more food or wine, Arik will provide it. You may stay up as late as you like and enjoy the tavern." With a final nod, she joins her sisters, who are already settling down at their own table, seemingly setting up another round of cards, their own form of unwinding.
The Party's Actions:
With the tavern now secured for the night and the Vistani owners occupied, the party understands this is their prime opportunity for a full debriefing. They gather closely around their table, their voices low and hushed, but no longer needing to conceal their true camaraderie.
"Looks like we're safely settled for the night," Silas begins, sweeping an arm around the now quiet common room. "And we earned a pretty penny too." He places the hat of coins on the table, a tangible success. "But more importantly, what did we all see? Kaelen, what did you make of the Vistani? And Faelar, what was that about Ismark and Sorvia?"
Kaelen leans in, his expression serious. "The Vistani seem quite pleased with the coin, and with Silas's performance. They're efficient, know their regulars, and stick to their rules, especially about sundown. But that wasn't the biggest thing. When Perrywimple and his caretaker left, I managed to get a line of sight. They went to Bildrath's Mercantile. The well-dressed man had a key. So, they live there, or at least he owns it."
Faelar nods, confirming Kaelen's detail. "And before they left, Ismark slipped Sorvia some coins, very discreetly. Just a few, but enough to make me wonder what they were for. A payment for our lodging and meals, perhaps? Or something else entirely?"
Lyra adds, "Ismark also confirmed that the mists trap everyone here, except the Vistani. He said people who try to leave just loop back to where they started, or choke. And he promised to check his father's journals for any mention of disappearances tomorrow, including Gertruda, when we meet him after noon."
Seraphina summarizes her observations. "He seemed genuine in his concern, despite the payment to Sorvia. And he seems eager for us to help. He also mentioned Father Donovich in Vallaki, isolated and grieving his lost son, no longer holding services. The wine, by the way, is surprisingly good."
The party takes a moment to absorb all the newly consolidated information. Bildrath's Mercantile, the subtle payment to Sorvia, the true nature of the mists, the burgomaster's son's willingness to help, and the troubled church in Vallaki.
"So," Silas muses, his finger tapping the table, "Tomorrow, we have two key points of contact: Ismark at the Burgomaster's manor, and Bildrath's Mercantile. And we still need to figure out what the Vistani know about Gertruda, and what 'the devil' of Barovia truly entails."
They decide to take advantage of Alenka's offer. Silas approaches Arik to request a final round of wine and perhaps some cheese and bread for their table, allowing them to continue their quiet strategizing into the night before retiring to their well-earned, albeit varied, rooms. They plan to decide on their exact order of operations for tomorrow's investigations after a bit more discussion.
Sounds good.. Do any of the PCs have any personal or nightly routines they do before turning in for the night? Also prior to coming down for breakfast the following day, do they have any morning rituals, routines or things they need to prepare?
The long, unsettling day in Barovia culminates in the relative safety and privacy of the tavern rooms, prompting each of the adventurers to fall into their own well-worn routines.
Nightly Routines Before Turning In:
Seraphina: As soon as she's alone, Seraphina kneels by the bedside, her silver holy symbol of the Morninglord clutched gently in her hand. She offers a heartfelt prayer of thanks for their safe passage and for the blessings of a warm bed, asking for continued guidance and strength against the encroaching shadows. She then carefully cleans her holy symbol and places it on the small bedside table, ensuring it catches any faint light. She bars her door securely, trusting in the Morninglord's protection but also her own vigilance.
Lyra: Lyra immediately bars her door. She spends a few minutes poring over her spellbook, reviewing the day's events and mentally preparing her spells for the morrow. She meticulously cleans and organizes her arcane focus and spell components, ensuring everything is in perfect order. Before extinguishing her lamp, she makes a few terse, analytical entries in a small, leather-bound journal, summarizing the day's observations, particularly concerning the mists and the Vistani's unique passage.
Faelar: Faelar's first priority is security. He bars his door, then listens intently to the sounds of the inn, differentiating between the settling creaks of the old building and any unusual noises. He takes a moment to check his bowstring, inspect his arrows, and carefully wipe down his hunting knives. He then mentally reviews the layout of his room and the hallway, identifying potential escape routes if needed. He prefers to sleep lightly, always aware of his surroundings.
Silas: Silas carefully polishes and tunes his lute, the soft sounds a comforting ritual. He then counts the day's earnings, a small smile playing on his lips at their success. He jots down a few lines of a new song inspired by the day's strangeness and beauty, a way of processing the bizarre reality of Barovia. He then gives his appearance a quick check in the small mirror, making sure he's still presentable for the next day's charms, before barring his door.
Kaelen: Kaelen is the most meticulous about security. After barring his door, he tests the bar's stability, and then subtly checks for any other weaknesses in the room's defense—a loose window, a thin wall. He might wedge a chair against the door or place a few coins on the floor where they'd be disturbed by an intruder. He then quickly, almost unconsciously, checks his hidden pouches and ensures his daggers are easily accessible. He reviews his mental map of the tavern and the surrounding square, including Bildrath's, before settling down, ever alert.
Borin: Borin's routine is practical and efficient. He unlatches his axe from his belt, placing it within easy reach near his bed. He checks his armor for any damage, and then performs a series of stretches and deep breathing exercises to loosen his large muscles after the day's travel and exertion. He then secures his door firmly, relying on the bar and his own formidable strength to deter any unwelcome visitors.
Morning Rituals and Preparations:
Seraphina: Seraphina rises before dawn, seeking the brief moments when the Morninglord's light might pierce through Barovia's gloom. She performs a dedicated morning prayer, asking for divine grace and guidance. She then dons her travel clothes, ensuring her holy symbol is visible and prominent. She prepares her daily spells, her mind focused on the needs of the day ahead and the aid she might offer.
Lyra: Lyra's morning begins with a period of quiet, intense study. She prepares her spells for the day from her spellbook, a process that requires complete concentration. She then tidies herself and prepares her small satchel with any notes or tools she anticipates needing. She'll be the one contemplating the best approach for questioning Ismark and perhaps Bildrath, strategizing over breakfast.
Faelar: Faelar rises with the first hint of morning light. His routine is centered on readiness. He inspects his bow, arrows, and other gear, ensuring they are in prime condition. He might briefly open his window (if it seems safe to do so) to assess the morning's weather and the visibility of the ever-present mists. He performs a few quiet, limbering stretches to prepare his body for whatever the day holds.
Silas: Silas spends a bit of time on his appearance, ensuring his clothes are tidy and his hair in place. He performs a quick, light tune on his lute to ensure it's still perfectly pitched. He reviews his mental list of objectives for the day, prioritizing charming new acquaintances and seeking out information. He prepares to present a confident, cheerful face to the challenges of Barovia.
Kaelen: Kaelen's morning routine is all about situational awareness. He first checks the security of his room, then subtly tries to gauge the activity in the inn. He listens at the door, trying to identify early risers. He ensures his hidden weapons and tools are all securely in place. At breakfast, he'll be scanning the common room, observing who else is up and about, and listening for any early morning whispers or conversations.
Borin: Borin rises, quickly donning his armor and securing his axe to his belt. His routine is practical and swift, focused on being ready for immediate action. He'll do a few powerful stretches, ensuring his muscles are loose and ready for any physical demands the day might bring. He makes sure his few personal belongings are packed and ready to go at a moment's notice.
Att Night:
(What does Lyra use for an arcane focus?)
While Kaelen is checking the security of his room, he notes that he could open the window, throw open the shutters and be out into the back side of the inn. He notes the shutters and window both can be closed and locked from the inside.
Will any of the PCs do anything at night or will they get their rest? The elves only need to trance for four hours.
In the Morning:
Seraphina awakens prior to dawn prepared for her morning rite. Unfortunately she finds the sky is dimmed by fog or storm clouds. She can make out the sun as a sort of bright patch in the overcast sky. A bright spot amidst the clouds.
What spells will Lyra prepare for the day?
Faelar opens the window and smells of the scent of the recent rain lingers in the air.
Kaelen hears some movement and some muffled conversation from behind his door. He believes it to be the cook and Arlik, and other members of the staff prepping for the day's work.
With all this in mind if none of the PCs wish to do anything additional, we can jump ahead to breakfast. The food that is served is pancakes along with butter and some sausages. The PCs all are at a table in the common room, while other members of the staff clean up and get things prepared for the day ahead. What do they discuss and what do they decide to do first?
It sounds like a relatively uneventful night, which is a rare blessing in Barovia. Let's delve into the specifics of your party's actions and preparations.
At Night
Lyra uses a polished, smooth river stone as her arcane focus. It fits comfortably in her palm, its subtle warmth a constant reminder of the magic it channels. Before turning in, she carefully cleans it and places it on her bedside table, a small act of reverence for her craft.
While Kaelen meticulously checks the security of his room, his keen eyes spot a potential escape route: he could easily unlatch the window, throw open the shutters, and drop out onto the backside of the inn. He notes that both the shutters and window can be secured and locked from the inside, providing both an exit and continued privacy.
With the day's events processed and their routines completed, the PCs choose to prioritize rest. Seraphina, Lyra, Kaelen, and Borin all settle in for the night, seeking the much-needed restorative sleep. Faelar and Seraphina, as elves, enter their restful trance, readying themselves for the day ahead.
In the Morning
Seraphina awakens before dawn, prepared for her morning rite. Unfortunately, the Barovian sky remains stubbornly dim, shrouded in fog or storm clouds. The sun appears as a mere bright patch in the overcast expanse, a faint glow amidst the perpetual gloom. Despite the lack of direct sunlight, Seraphina performs her prayers, finding solace and strength in the familiar words.
Lyra considers the day ahead, knowing the delicate balance between utility and power in her limited spell slots. Given their current situation—exploring a new, dangerous land, with social encounters and potential combat—she opts for a versatile selection:
Cantrips (at will): Fire Bolt (for damage), Light (for illumination in dim Barovia), Mage Hand (for utility).
1st Level Spells (4 slots):
Magic Missile (reliable damage).
Shield (crucial defense).
Detect Magic (for investigation).
Comprehend Languages (for potential written or spoken communication barriers).
Faelar opens his window just a crack, letting in a whisper of the Barovian morning. The air is cool and damp, carrying the clean, earthy scent of recent rain that clings to the mists.
Kaelen stirs to the sounds of the inn awakening. From behind his door, he hears muffled conversation and the clatter of pots and pans, confirming his assumption that it's the cook, Arik, and other staff members beginning their daily preparations.
Breakfast in the Common Room
Soon, the enticing aroma of pancakes and sizzling sausage fills the common room. The party gathers at a communal table, plates piled high with the simple yet hearty breakfast, along with butter and steaming mugs of something resembling coffee. Other staff members move about, cleaning and preparing the tavern for the day's business, but the atmosphere is quiet and subdued compared to the previous night.
As they eat, the party huddles to discuss their plan for the day, their voices kept low.
"Alright, so here's what we know," Silas begins, cutting into a pancake. "Ismark wants to meet us after noon at his father's house. He'll check the burgomaster's journals for missing persons. That's our priority for the afternoon."
"My observation last night revealed that Perrywimple and his caretaker went into Bildrath's Mercantile," Kaelen interjects quietly. "The well-dressed man had a key, so he likely owns or lives there. Bildrath's is a general store, so they're probably some kind of merchants."
"That's a significant lead," Lyra notes, stirring her coffee. "Ismark mentioned Mary Gray calls them 'Mad Mary' and she was fired from here by Sorvia. So, we have that Vistani connection there too. We also need to understand more about this 'devil' of Barovia."
"And Ismark paid Sorvia directly," Faelar adds, his voice low. "Subtly. It suggests a deeper connection, or perhaps a means of influence over the Vistani's treatment of us. We should keep that in mind when dealing with both him and them."
Seraphina nods, taking a bite of sausage. "So, two primary objectives for the day: Ismark and Bildrath's. Given Ismark specified 'after noon,' I suggest we focus on Bildrath's Mercantile first this morning. It allows us to investigate the simpleton and his caretaker, and potentially learn more about the town, before meeting with the burgomaster's son."
Borin grunts in agreement, chewing thoughtfully. "Aye. Best to tackle things before the main meeting. And if those two are merchants, they might know more about Barovia's roads, or what comes and goes."
The party agrees. Their first order of business this morning will be to visit Bildrath's Mercantile.
Does this sound like a good starting point for their day?
That is up to the party. As they are eating breakfast, have them each make a perception check. (DC 14 let me know which PCs pass or fail. No details beyond that.)
As the party continues to eat their breakfast of pancakes and sausages, engrossed in their morning discussion, each of them makes a Perception check.
Seraphina passes.
Lyra fails.
Faelar passes.
Silas fails.
Kaelen fails.
Borin fails.
Seraphina and Faelar note that one of the Vistani owners (Mirabel) was setting the chairs down on a nearby table when they were discussing Mad Mary.. They realize she was in earshot and may have overheard that bit of conversation.
Seraphina and Faelar realize that Mirabel, one of the Vistani owners, was within earshot while they were discussing Mary Gray over breakfast. It seems she may have overheard that part of their conversation.
How do the tow of them react? If at all?
Seraphina and Faelar's eyes subtly meet across the table. A shared understanding passes between them. They realize that Mirabel, who had been setting down chairs at a nearby table while they discussed Mad Mary, was likely within earshot. There's no immediate change in Mirabel's demeanor; she continues her work, seemingly oblivious, or perhaps merely professional.
The realization prompts a quiet, internal adjustment from the two adventurers. They continue their breakfast, but their conversation now becomes even more guarded, their voices dropping to a level where only those directly at their table could possibly hear. They cast an occasional, discreet glance towards Mirabel, wondering how much she truly overheard and what the implications might be.
As the PCs are wrapping up breakfast, the staff come over and remove the dishes. Mirabel the only Vistani who appears to be up at this hour, comes over to the table.. “Should we hold your rooms for another night? Or does the call of the open road beckon to you?”
What are the PCs doing?
As the staff clear away the last of their breakfast dishes, Mirabel, the only Vistani awake at this early hour, approaches their table. Her expression remains as unreadable as ever, giving away nothing. "Should we hold your rooms for another night?" she asks, her voice even. "Or does the call of the open road beckon to you?"
Silas sets down his fork, meeting Mirabel's gaze with his usual charming smile. He glances at his companions, a subtle nod confirming their agreement from earlier. "The roads are indeed tempting, Mirabel," he begins smoothly, "but Barovia has... a certain pull. We've found ourselves quite comfortable here, and we'd be pleased to stay another night, if our rooms are available." He then adds, "We had a good night's work yesterday, and we'd be happy to discuss the price for continued lodging, or if our performance provides sufficient... value."
Seraphina maintains her composure, her eyes subtly, almost imperceptibly, tracing Mirabel's features, searching for any flicker of recognition or reaction to Silas's words, or indeed, to their earlier conversation about Mary. She offers Mirabel a polite, gentle smile.
Faelar, equally aware of Mirabel's potential eavesdropping, keeps his face neutral, though his gaze remains sharp. He watches Mirabel's hands, her posture, and listens intently to the nuances of her voice, trying to discern if there's any hidden message in her straightforward question.
Lyra observes Mirabel with quiet intensity, processing the Vistani's directness and the implicit question about their intentions in Barovia. She listens closely to Mirabel's reply, looking for any information, however small, that might be revealed.
Kaelen allows his gaze to casually drift around the common room, but his attention is fully on Mirabel. He's alert for any subtle tells – a shift in her eyes, a tightening of her jaw, anything that might betray whether she heard their earlier discussion or has other motives behind her polite inquiry.
Borin, ever the silent observer in these social exchanges, simply nods slightly, confirming his presence and agreement to Silas's words, his posture relaxed but ready.
Mirabel smiles at Silas’s words. She rests a hand on his shoulder.. “We would be happy for you to play again for your room and dinner. You and the other two performers.. Mayhaps we will see some magic tonight?” She says looking at Kaelen. Smiling to the other party members.. “I’ll have a busboy check in with Ishmark to see if he will pay for another evening for the three of you as well. Is there anything else you need for now? Any questions about the town or would you prefer to explore on your own?”
Her demeanor suggests warm and being a bit comforting. How do the PCs react? (Note if they wish to make any checks please let me know the results)
Mirabel smiles at Silas’s words, her expression genuinely warm. She rests a friendly hand on his shoulder. "We would be happy for you to play again for your room and dinner, you and the other two performers. Mayhaps we will see some magic tonight?" she asks, her eyes twinkling as she looks at Kaelen. Turning her gaze to the other party members, she continues, "I'll have a busboy check in with Ismark to see if he will pay for another evening for the three of you as well. Is there anything else you need for now? Any questions about the town or would you prefer to explore on your own?" Her entire demeanor suggests warmth and a comfortable hospitality.
Seraphina, Faelar, and Lyra's Insight Checks on Mirabel:
Seraphina: 20 (Pass - Strong read)
Faelar: 14 (Pass - Good read)
Lyra: 10 (Fail - No deeper read)
The PCs' Reactions:
Silas responds to Mirabel's touch and smile with his own genuine charm. "That would be our pleasure, Mirabel. We'd be delighted to perform for you and your guests again tonight." He gives a knowing glance to Kaelen. "And as for magic, well, Kaelen here does have a few surprises up his sleeve. We'll be sure to make it a memorable evening." He then addresses her offer of assistance. "As for the town, thank you for the generous offer. We'd prefer to take the morning to explore on our own and get a feel for the place. We'll be sure to ask if we find ourselves truly stumped."
Kaelen receives Mirabel's direct mention of "magic" with a subtle, confident nod. He offers her a half-smile, his eyes holding a touch of mystery. "Perhaps," he murmurs, leaving the promise tantalizingly vague. He appreciates her directness and notes her continued focus on their performance.
Seraphina, aided by her keen insight, senses that Mirabel's warmth is entirely genuine. She truly seems pleased with the troupe and eager to have them stay. The offer to check with Ismark about the others' lodging feels like a straightforward act of hospitality and business, confirming Ismark's continued support for them. Seraphina's earlier suspicion about Mirabel overhearing their "Mad Mary" discussion doesn't seem to be influencing Mirabel's current open demeanor.
Faelar's insight also confirms Mirabel's sincerity. While his inherent caution remains, he perceives her pleasure in having such an entertaining group as the primary driver for her warm welcome. He makes a mental note that the Vistani seem to place high value on skilled performers.
Lyra, without the benefit of a deep insight, finds Mirabel's comforting demeanor pleasant and straightforward. She takes Mirabel's words at face value, grateful for the hospitality.
Borin simply nods in agreement with Silas's words, his expression remaining stoic. He's content to let Silas handle the social intricacies, trusting his judgment.
Having confirmed their lodging and politely deferred direct questions about the town, the party prepares to leave the tavern and begin their morning exploration of Barovia, starting with Bildrath's Mercantile.
Seraphina gets the impression that Mirabel’s offer to answer questions about the town is a sort of subtle invite that she is willing to chat about Mad Mary. Faelar gets the impression that Mirabel is being genuinely helpful and is offering a bit of local guidance on the town. He can’t tell if this is something she does for everyone or if she is going out of her way for his group.
Mirabel smiles and nods to Silas and before leaving the table to help set up the bar she says “The front doors to the Tavern don’t open until eleven. You may come and go from the kitchen until then.” once behind the bar she starts cleaning, making herself available to the PCs if they need something on the way out..
What are the PCs doing? Will they go directly to Bildraths’s or will they take a walk about town first?
Mirabel smiles and nods to Silas, a hint of genuine warmth in her eyes. "The front doors to the Tavern don't open until eleven," she informs them, then gestures towards the back. "You may come and go from the kitchen until then." With that, she moves behind the bar, beginning to clean, making herself available should the PCs approach.
The PCs' Reaction:
Seraphina's insight weighs heavily on her. The subtle invitation to discuss Mad Mary, coupled with Faelar's impression of Mirabel's genuine helpfulness, presents a prime opportunity. She catches Silas's eye, then Lyra's, and subtly inclines her head towards Mirabel. "I believe Mirabel might be willing to share more about... the seamstress we discussed earlier," she whispers, her voice low. "It might be wise to speak with her before we head out."
Silas nods, understanding the implication. "Indeed. A wise move."
"It's better to gather as much information as possible directly," Lyra agrees, her gaze thoughtful as she considers the potential value of Mirabel's perspective.
Faelar, having picked up on Seraphina's cues, maintains a calm demeanor but watches Mirabel closely. He trusts Seraphina's discernment on such matters.
The party quickly makes a decision. Instead of heading out immediately through the kitchen or waiting for the front doors, they will seize this unexpected chance.
Action: The party collectively stands and approaches the bar where Mirabel is cleaning.
Silas takes the lead, his voice friendly and open. "Mirabel, thank you again for your hospitality. Before we step out, Seraphina here had a thought. You mentioned you might have answers about the town. We were discussing a woman last night, Mary Gray, who used to work here. We've heard some unsettling stories, and we were wondering if you might be willing to share anything about her time here, or if you know of her daughter, Gertruda, perhaps?"
Seraphina adds, her tone gentle and compassionate, "We're simply trying to understand the circumstances, Mirabel. Any light you could shed would be appreciated."
MIrabel smiles a bit of a knowing smile. “I don’t like rumors and I like lies even less.. Mary unfortunately is often a source of both.. She used to be married, her husband was a traveling merchant who moved goods between the towns and the vistani camp in Barovia. It is a risky business but he made a good amount of coin. He bought a house and married Mary. Two years later he was found on the road, near the crossing to Tser Pool, he had been savaged by wolves. A group of adventures such as yourselves fought the pack, and brought his body back.
Mary was grief stricken and shortly after learned she was with child. Mary wasn’t good with money like her husband, and after a bit she was selling the fine things her husband bought her. We felt sorry for her and gave her a job, waiting tables, cleaning dishes and the guest rooms, helping out in the kitchen. She was grateful at first, but eventually former business associates came to Barovia looking for her husband. He wasn’t in debt, but she seemed a bit jealous when women he did business with showed up. They offered condolences and were nice, but she seemed suspicious of their motives.
We thought nothing of it.. Just a bit of anger fueled by grief and nothing came of it. Eventually she had her daughter Gertruda. She would bring her to work, leave her in the kitchen, but would go running every time she cried.. She was always very protective of her. We let her use a guest room to nurse and put the baby down to rest.. Things went on, and Mary wasn’t the same. She smiled a lot less than she did when her husband was alive. She and her daughter came her when she worked, and then home or to the Church.
Everything changed a few years later when we had a singer in… A teenage vistani girl, who was passing through, was dancing with a local boy. A young love sort of thing, innocent and harmless. When they kissed something in her snapped.. She pulled them apart and slapped the girl knocking her to the floor. She started making wild accusations.. “Was it you? Did you try to steal my husband you slut!? ”
She started attacking the poor girl, we had to pull her off.. Something you should know about Vistani.. We are all one family.. Not by blood but by who we are. Any Vistani child is a son or daughter, sister and brother to all Vistani.. Her husband had been dead for about five years at that point. The girl she attacked would have been ten or eleven years old at that time. Had her husband done something to the girl, we wouldn't have waited for wolves, he never would have left the camp..
But Mary was Mad with grief and anger, even after all those years. She ranted about Vistani stealing and trying to seduce the good men in this town to lure them to their doom. There was no way we could allow her to come back from that. So we fired her.. She took her daughter and left.
We heard from the Burgomaster that she complained that we were turning the Tavern into a brothel. Can you imagine? As if we are desperate for coin and had to resort to selling ourselves. Ha! I don’t know who first called her Mad Mary, but the name caught on and it stuck.
She started working as a seamstress, and had her daughter working as well. Although we never saw her out anymore. We would hear people telling stories.. How one day she accused Bildrath of stealing her wedding ring.. Apparently she forgot she sold it to him, or started that rumor in an attempt to save her reputation..
She isn’t welcome here and I think she damaged our sign. She is… not a threat, but more of a nuisance. If she tells you something take it with a grain of salt.
Does the party have any more questions or will they go about their day? If so where will they go and what will they do first?
Mirabel listens intently as Silas and Seraphina pose their questions about Mary Gray. A knowing smile plays on her lips before she begins to speak, her words carefully chosen.
"I don't like rumors, and I like lies even less," she states, her gaze direct. "Mary, unfortunately, is often a source of both. She used to be married; her husband was a traveling merchant who moved goods between the towns and the Vistani camp in Barovia. It's a risky business, but he made a good amount of coin. He bought a house and married Mary. Two years later, he was found on the road, near the crossing to Tser Pool. He had been savaged by wolves. A group of adventurers, such as yourselves, fought the pack and brought his body back."
Mirabel pauses, her expression softening slightly. "Mary was grief-stricken and shortly after learned she was with child. Mary wasn't good with money like her husband, and after a bit, she was selling the fine things her husband bought her. We felt sorry for her and gave her a job, waiting tables, cleaning dishes and guest rooms, helping out in the kitchen. She was grateful at first, but eventually, former business associates came to Barovia looking for her husband. He wasn't in debt, but she seemed a bit jealous when women he did business with showed up. They offered condolences and were nice, but she seemed suspicious of their motives."
"We thought nothing of it," she continues, "just a bit of anger fueled by grief, and nothing came of it. Eventually, she had her daughter, Gertruda. She would bring her to work, leave her in the kitchen, but would go running every time she cried. She was always very protective of her. We let her use a guest room to nurse and put the baby down to rest. Things went on, and Mary wasn't the same. She smiled a lot less than she did when her husband was alive. She and her daughter came here when she worked, and then home or to the Church."
Mirabel's expression hardens slightly as she recounts the turning point. "Everything changed a few years later when we had a singer in. A teenage Vistani girl, who was passing through, was dancing with a local boy. A young love sort of thing, innocent and harmless. When they kissed, something in her snapped. She pulled them apart and slapped the girl, knocking her to the floor. She started making wild accusations: 'Was it you? Did you try to steal my husband, you slut!?'"
"She started attacking the poor girl; we had to pull her off. Something you should know about Vistani," Mirabel explains, her voice firm, "we are all one family. Not by blood, but by who we are. Any Vistani child is a son or daughter, sister, and brother to all Vistani. Her husband had been dead for about five years at that point. The girl she attacked would have been ten or eleven years old at that time. Had her husband done something to the girl, we wouldn't have waited for wolves; he never would have left the camp. But Mary was mad with grief and anger, even after all those years. She ranted about Vistani stealing and trying to seduce the good men in this town to lure them to their doom. There was no way we could allow her to come back from that. So we fired her. She took her daughter and left."
Mirabel's smile returns, though it's now tinged with a cynical amusement. "We heard from the Burgomaster that she complained that we were turning the Tavern into a brothel. Can you imagine? As if we are desperate for coin and had to resort to selling ourselves! Ha! I don't know who first called her Mad Mary, but the name caught on, and it stuck. She started working as a seamstress and had her daughter working as well. Although we never saw her out anymore. We would hear people telling stories... how one day she accused Bildrath of stealing her wedding ring. Apparently, she forgot she sold it to him, or started that rumor in an attempt to save her reputation. She isn't welcome here, and I think she damaged our sign. She is... not a threat, but more of a nuisance. If she tells you something, take it with a grain of salt."
Mirabel finishes her explanation, her gaze expectant. "Does the party have any more questions, or will you go about your day?"
The party has received a wealth of information from Mirabel, painting a very different picture of "Mad Mary."
The Party's Next Move:
The new details regarding Mary's history, her grief-fueled accusations against the Vistani, and her strained relationship with Bildrath, add significant context to their understanding of Gertruda's disappearance. They now have a strong motivation to visit Bildrath's Mercantile, not just to confirm Perrywimple's residence, but to gain insight into Mary's claims against him. Given Mirabel's detailed and seemingly candid account, they feel they have a good initial understanding of the Vistani's perspective on Mary.
"Thank you, Mirabel," Silas says, his voice sincere. "That sheds a great deal of light on things. We appreciate your honesty." He glances at the rest of the group, a silent signal that they have what they need for now. "We'll head out now to begin our explorations. We'll be sure to see you again this evening."
The party, having obtained a crucial Vistani perspective on Mary Gray, decides to stick to their agreed-upon plan. They will now use the kitchen exit to leave the Blood on the Vine Tavern and make their way directly to Bildrath's Mercantile.
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