Ravenloft game thread

Katerina looks around to barter for the young horse. She searches the inn for some one in charge to negotiate a rate with. That notwithstanding, she will ride in the cart.

Iskandil shakes his head. "The cart's for gear. If you're too weak to walk, maybe one of these gents will let you double up."

The cart is quite full of his still and supplies., and the elf walks alongside it as the group travels.

I was half a breath from inquiring about the cart when Iskandil denied Katerina. Promptly clamping my mouth closed, I look away, slightly embarrassed by the weakness insinuation. Composure, I remind myself as I clasp Iskandil on the shoulder with a diplomat's grin. "Then I would walk with you." I turn to look if anyone in the group shares my next sentiment. "Though I would surely like some breakfast before we go. Do we know how long the travel shall be?"

"We were told it was five hours to the rendezvous point where out patron is expecting us. I have cheese and salted pork I am happy to share."

"Ah, yes. Thank you Lysander. I would be happy to partake, though I wonder about everyone else."

Iskandil gives Falfaelor a hesitant smile and reaches into the pockets of his long cloak. First he produces a badly bruised apple, which he feeds to Hotay, then a carrot which he clenches between his teeth. Finally _,he finds the small leather bottle he was looking for. He opens the stopper and takes a drink, then offers the bottle to his companions.
"Apple brandy. Very strong." He walks alongside the donkey, using his staff as a walking stick and occasionally taking a bite of the carrot.

"I doan' like anythin' about this business. Not one teeny bit!" Grizel grumbles, "Folks knowin' when an' where t' find us drinkin' an' jestin' unawares. Strange riders hurryin' ahead an' tellin' who knows what that we's on our way!" She scans the woods, one hand on the reins, the other on her sword. "We're exposed here. I doan like it!" Her warhorse, sharing its master's sentiment, snorts loudly.

"You're both being paranoid. It is odd that we were approached so suddenly and asked to meet our potential patron out on the road but there are hundreds of reasons why that could be. We were at the inn for a while, maybe someone knew of the woman's plight and sent this man word of our presence. And perhaps caring for her kept him from coming to see us himself, for all we know this is the halfway point between her domicile and the inn. As for the weather, well nature is fickle and can hardly be expected to accommodate our moods when it must answer to so many masters."

You all can tell Lysander's optimistic outlook is at least partly show. He strives to be an eternal beacon of hope, but you know he has the same foreboding feelings the rest of you share, if not for the same reasons.

"Nature is fickle?" Iskandil snorts. "Everything in nature occurs as it is intended to. Every morning the sun rises at the appointed time. Every evening it sets. You merely think it fickle because you don't see the purpose."

Hotay leans over and shoves Iskandil with his nose, causing the elf to step into a deep mud puddle.

"Nobody ever said donkeys were natural," Iskandil tells the donkey irritably, but he's already reaching into his pocket for another apple.

Katerina keeps a close eye out for anything out of the ordinary as she walks up to the gates and through them if they are open. If not she looks for a knocker to annouce the party's presence.

Sindar took a moment to survey his surroundings, if things went south, he'd want some reliable cover he could dash to if needed. He walks up alongside Katerina, one hand under his cloak ready to pull out a crossbow if they were jumped.