The Eye of Anubis: Book Two

[NeoTiamat]

April 24th, 761
Ravnika, Barovia
Day 38 of the Menetnashte Expedition

The Menetnashte Expedition pulled into Barovia late one drizzly day in April, tired, wet, cold, and generally fairly miserable. The journey had been unventful so far, practically anticlimactic after the event-filled eve of the departure. No sudden deaths, no dizzying fights, no stunning revelations. Just rain, rain, rain, and every so often, rain...

One could consider the sogginess the defining theme of the Expedition so far. Damp grey clouds had dogged the Expedition since it departed my wagon to Chateaufaux, and had continued as the entire Expedition was loaded onto keelboats and floated down the Musarde.

There were some tense moments in Falkovnia, relations between Falkovnia and Dementlieu never being very good, but through some unknown agency, the customs men let the Expedition through. It seemed that Ambassador Marcos Vedarrak had not entirely forgotten the Expedition.

Richemulot passed without a hitch, the nervousness of certain party members notwithstanding, and Borca was a well-earned respite for the Expedition, the last refuge of 'civilization' before the more dangerous lands ahead. Samael disappeared during your short stay in the country, visiting family in northern Borca, but the organizer was back as you reached Levkarest. And still it rained.

There, the keelboat took its path down the Luna river, and into the suspicion-strewed land of Barovia. You finally bid the loyal watercraft a fond adieu in Krezk, and horses and wagons were again procured for the Expedition.

You came to Ravnika four days out of Krezk, shortly before attempting the Svalich Pass. It was a quiet, unassuming little village nestled in the foothills of the Balinoks, a small number of fields scattered within the primordial forest.

What made Ravnika notable, however, was that it boasted one of the most intact ruins of the Church of Andral in Barovia. Taking to mind Lia's earlier request, Prof. Carter had convinced Prof. Pelletier to stop in the village for a day or so, to visit both the ruined fane of Andral, and Ravnika's small, but thriving, chapel of the Morninglord.

And here you were now.

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"You know... at this rate I think I'm going start sprouting toadstools soon." Samael grumbled as he tried to read his map of Ravnika.

"Well, we always did think you were a fun-gi." De Angelis rode beside the Borcan in van of the Expedition caravan. Samael gave him a black look.

"Excuse me while I collapse in laughter at your brilliant sally." Samael said dryly. "I think thats the inn ahead."

Indeed, the the large building on the outskirts of town could be nothing but an inn. A large, three-story structure with an adjoining stable and a small fence, it had a white-painted, almost aggressively cheery look at odds with the customary dourness of Barovians and with the grey, miserable rain.

The innkeeper, a shaggy mountain of a man, muscle rather than fat, ran out as the Expedition approached. Good-natured greed flashed in his eyes as he bellowed out a greeting.

"Welcome, welcome to Karl's Folly! They told me I could not build an inn here, but look at it! Do you wish to stay? The best accommodations between Krezk and Vallaki! Do you wish to eat? I cook, and you shall feast tonight!"

Samael dismounted, offering a wary hand to the innkeeper. "Wonderful. We'll be staying for two days, and we need full accommodations for twenty-three. Also hay for our horses."

The innkeeper, Karl, took the Borcan's hand. They made an interesting contrast, the small, sharp-featured Borcan and the huge, hirsute Barovian. Like a weasel and a bear.

Michel dismounted as well, leading his horse to the stables. "You may head inside." He called back to the group. "Guy and myself shall see to the horses."

The inside of the inn was large, clean, and already filled with Ravnika's villagers. There were tables free however, and seats at the bar, and a pair of local barmaids went around refilling tankards of beer. Shortly, Karl the innkeeper entered behind you, towing a displeased looking Samael behind him. Negotiations had not gone well.

"Come, sit, order!" He boomed. "You are guests at Karl's Folly!"

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Come, sit, order!" He boomed. "You are guests at Karl's Folly!"

Charles had gone to accompany Guy and Michel as they attended to the horses--his own horse, Kejser, was a true Nova Vaasan vaamgaaere, adapted to the dry heat of the southern plains, and consequently not terribly fond of the recent weather. "Never you mind, lad," Charles says, draping a fresh blanket across its back as an extra precaution against chill. "We'll be in the heat soon enough, eh? Find a desert for you to wander through. A nice change from all this rain."

He comes into the common room just in time to be on the receiving end of Karl's enthusiastic blast. "Very kind of you, Master Karl," he says. "Er...what are the specialities of the house?"

[steveflam]

Allikhain was glad to finally be out of the interminable rain. Shaking her cloak as she entered the Inn, she sighed. I didn't realise the trip would be so long and tiring. I suppose the rain can be thanked for that. I'll be glad to be warmed by the fire .

"I'll get a seat by the fireplace, Ulsaon, and keep an eye on things" she whispered. Without a word to anyone she found a seat at a table, and taking it, placed it near the fire. Sitting with her back to the fire, she eyed the patrons and surveyed the room, noting the exits and windows.
_____________________________________________________________

Ulsaon was happy to be out of the rain and of course the opportunity to eat was always a welcome friend to her. Once inside she nodded to Allikhain and watched her walk over and grab a chair, then sit by the fireplace. How can she not eat after our long voyage? All the more for me she grinned. As soon as Karl was available, she adressed him with a big smile.

"Oh Karl. Please be a dear and whatever the house special is, I'll start with that." Ulsaon's stomach grumbled loudly as she approached an empty table, and setting her back pack on the floor next to her chair, sat and as Allikhain was doing, observed the patrons as well as possible exits and windows. "So who's hungry like a wolf?" she asked the party. "Charles, come sit with me. Anyone else is welcome. Hey maybe we can put a few tables together , those of us who eat anyways."

"I didn't realise I was so hungry. Must be the travel" she said to noone in particular. Ulsaon's stomach grumbled again. I hope the food arrives soon.

[DocBeard]

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"How do they handle all of this rain." Tomas muttered to himself, squeezing the water out of his hair and generally looking discontent. "Water is supposed to /freeze/. That's the way of things. If nature didn't intend for most of the water in the world to be snow.." He trails off in Lamordian for a minute, finally looking decent enough to step inside without offending the innkeeper.

At least his hair isn't sticking up anymore. "I am not supposing I could get a cup of tea?" Tomas asks, rubbing his arms a little and looking longingly towards the fireplace.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Tea," Lia hoarsely demands when Karl gives his enthusiastic command to sit and order. "Hot tea. Lots of sugar, or honey. And food. No pork, no onions, no mushrooms, but whatever else is the day's special." The Mordentish girl staggers over to the fireplace, where she extends gloved hands to the warmth, caring not a wit for the stares of the people around her. She looks different from the way she did back in Dementlieu; Lia still wears scholar's robes with a cloak, but now she's also carrying a bulging backpack, with a stout cane thrust through the pack's straps. A scroll case hangs from one side of her belt, a holstered pistol and knife from the other. And of course she's soaked to the bone.
'Blasted rain,' she thinks. 'It's like being back in Mordent for the wet season. Blasted Mordent.' She shudders. 'I need to get myself a private room to change these clothes.' That being thought, Lia starts to look around herself a bit more, gauging people's responses to her appearance.

[NeoTiamat]

Karl's Folly

"Tea!" Karl shouted in a voice that was probably heard back in Krezk. "Elena, get the samovar!"

Shooing regulars like chickens, the immense innkeeper pulled a few of the round tables together into something approximating a circle, while one of the serving girls fetched an immense brass samovar, shaped like an urn. With a few pumps of the bellows, the samovar was heated up, and huge mugs were distributed amongst the Expedition.

"Tea shall be hot soon!" It appeared to those gathered that Karl's natural speaking tone was a low bellow, but it was bellow much at home with the low ruckus of the tavern.

"Our house specials," The mountainous Barovian said with an exaggerated smack of the lips, "Are smoked herring, sarmale, and mititei! Finest in Barovia! Elena! Get a herring for the two ladies here!"

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Meanwhile, the rest of the Expedition started to filter in. Loup trotted in, a particularly sad and sorry sight after the endless rain, resembling nothing so much as a soggy skeleton. He sneezed a few times, then shook himself off as he entered.

"Thanks..." Benoit grumbled as he got even more wet than he'd been before. "Hier Loup, I'll get you dried off. Anyone have a dry towel?"

Lily followed the ex-militiaman inside, flipping down the hood she'd worn to keep her honey-colored tresses relatively dry. Even with the decidedly plebian surroundings, Miss D'Envers seemed to fit, looking utterly at ease in the environment.

There were a few looks and wolf-whistles as she placed hung her heavy cloak by the fireplace to dry, taking out the peacock-colored green-silk fan without which she was never seen.

"Lovely weather..." Lily murmurred as she crouched near the fireplace, imitating Lia's actions and warming her hands.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Innkeep," Lia says, turning briefly to Karl. "Has our esteemed travel leader arranged rooms for us? If so, I would like to be shown to mine so I can change."
She briefly, but vigorously shakes her hands at the fire. Even after warming them for a few minutes, still drops of water cascade from the sodden fabric of her gloves and sleeves. "I need to hang these out before they develop mildew," Lia mutters with obvious disgust.
"And please have my meal taken to whatever room I've been granted," she calls to Karl. "I prefer to eat alone, but I'll be back down here afterwards."

(Members of the expedition will, by now, be familiar with Lia's preference to eat alone.)

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Our house specials," The mountainous Barovian said with an exaggerated smack of the lips, "Are smoked herring, sarmale, and mititei! Finest in Barovia! Elena! Get a herring for the two ladies here!"

"I'll have the sarmale, innkeep, and thank you for your hospitality," Charles says in good Balok, taking off his broad-brimmed traveling hat and placing it on a table. Addressing the room at large, he continues, "Sun smile on you, goodmen, and well met. A round for the house, Goodman Karl."

Switching back to Mordentish, he says, "I've got an extra saddle blanket in the tack saddlebag out in the stables, Guy. If you care to brave the elements again, and can get it back here dry, you're welcome to it."

Sitting next to Ulsaon, he grins at her and says, "I. I am hungry like a wolf, although that may not be the most felicitous way of expressing it among our friends," nodding at the Barovian peasantry examining the newcomers with varying levels of suspicion and curiosity. "They are sometimes a bit literal-minded about that sort of thing in this part of the world."

[steveflam]

Sitting next to Ulsaon, he grins at her and says, "I. I am hungry like a wolf, although that may not be the most felicitous way of expressing it among our friends," nodding at the Barovian peasantry examining the newcomers with varying levels of suspicion and curiosity. "They are sometimes a bit literal-minded about that sort of thing in this part of the world."

Listening to Charles speak about Barovian peasants and insinuate something about wolves, raised a question or two in Ulsaon's mind. Now is the best time than ever to ask. We're here after all. This wet clothing is really bothersome. she thought as her wet head dripped onto the floor.

Speaking in a hushed voice to Charles, Ulsaon asks him in HIgh Mordentish "What can you tell me about this Barovia? And what did you mean by the wolf reference?" Ulsaon sat back and looked at him with interest.

[yalenusveler]

Andre was looking for a place to warm up. One would think being of Mordentish ancestry, he'd be used to miserable weather, but still, a man had his limits. And thus he positioned himself by the fire, warming himself much like Lia and Lily.

"I would complain about the weather, but I fear what my father would say, could he hear." He smiled, a touch self deprecatingly. "And Miss D'Envers, you surely must've been places with worse weather. The muggy heat of Souragne isn't exactly known as one of its finer points for travelers for example."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia makes a little noise in the back of her throat when she hears Andre's words. "I have never been to Souragne," Lia says, "but warm damp sounds a lot better than the cold damp of 'jolly old Mordent'." She visibly shivers. "If I never return to Mordent during the rain again, I shall be happy," she states in an acid tone of voice. "Sweet mercy, but I could do with a hot bath right now."

[DocBeard]

"Plus, that veil of yours is a build in mosquito net." Tomas quips, smirking a little at the mystery-loving student. "Still, it could be worse. We're lucky we found an inn before dark, at least, no?"

[lostboy]

Having seen to the stabling of Isha, and seeing the horse well settled, Khalil slings his sadlebags over one shoulder and crosses the courtyard towards the Inn. He looks at the sky, revelling in the rain and appreciating the smells of the forest surrounding this small village.

Karsh perched on his shoulder seems less enthused by the monotonous damp, and Khalil feeds the bird a small piece of dried meat. "Worry not my friend, soon rain will be the least of our problems, perhaps you should enjoy it while it lasts?" He whispers, ignoring the faintly accusing look he gets in return.

Khalil ducks through the door of the inn , hmm better than most, he thinks as he eyes the room and its clientel... Unwinding his face and head scarf he shakes his damp hair loose and heads towards the fire. Without a sound Karsh hops from his shoulder to the rafters above.

Laying his bags and pack carefully by the fire he crouches next to them warming his hands. Seeing tea being passed around he signals the barkeep for one more.

Catching Tomas words he responds "Indeed Affendi, this land more than most has its share of dangers in the night, I have heard many stories on my travels."

[NeoTiamat]

Karl's Folly

Addressing the room at large, he continues, "Sun smile on you, goodmen, and well met. A round for the house, Goodman Karl."

"As the gentleman says!" Karl yelled to the room. "Elena, break out the tsuika!"

There was a hoarse cheer throughout the room as plum brandy was passed out, and a few mustachioed Barovians raised a toast to the foreigners generosity. In all, a good gesture. Only two pairs of eyes in the back of the room were not gladsome.

[OOC: -1 Outcast Rating. Current Outcast Rating = 0]

Suddenly, there was a flash of lighting, and the Expedition could hear as a rumble of thunder smashed against the inn. Suddenly, it seemed as though someone had opened the heavenly floodgates. It did not merely drizzle now, it poured. Sheets of water crashed against the roof.

It was, in a word, very wet.

"Innkeep," Lia says, turning briefly to Karl. "Has our esteemed travel leader arranged rooms for us? If so, I would like to be shown to mine so I can change."

Samael listened to Lia's words with an increasingly guilty look on his face. The Borcan did not seem happy.

"Ah... about that..." Samael paused, trying to figure out a way to continue. "Karl only has fourteen rooms in this building. One of them's occupied by a travelling bard."

The Borcan spoke quickly, trying to forestall any interruptions. "That's thirteen rooms. If three people take lone rooms, the rest of the group can double up. I think Prof. Pelletier should get one of the personal rooms, I'll take the second, and I move Miss D'Envers takes the third. The rest of you can go two to a room."

"With that storm out there, no one should try and sleep outside, and these stables are barely big enough for the animals." Samael slowed down a bit. "And as a practical matter... this would mean we could carry fewer tents with us out into the desert, which means fewer camels, which means fewer supplies we'll need and more we can bring for ourselves."

[OOC: Alright folks, find a fellow PC or a friendly NPC who you won't want to strangle, decide to stick together, and hope they don't snore.]

[Nathan of the FoS]

There was a hoarse cheer throughout the room as plum brandy was passed out, and a few mustachioed Barovians raised a toast to the foreigners generosity. In all, a good gesture. Only two pairs of eyes in the back of the room were not gladsome.

Charles smiles and raises his own glass of tsuika in response, downing it in a single gulp and wiping his eyes as the liquor burns down his throat. "Strong stuff, Goodman," he says to Karl. "You'll get no complaints from me on the potency of your drink!" Seeing that at least two of the room's inhabitants are not won over by the gesture, he gestures vaguely in their direction and asks Karl, "Teetotalers?"

As Samael explains the rooming situation, Charles shrugs slightly. "Does anyone else burn the candle at both ends?" he asks. "I don't sleep much, so I like to spend the night hours doing some reading or ciphering. I'm pretty quiet, but I do like a light."