Prologue - Death House

The woods are quiet this night, and the air grows chill. For whatever reason—you can't remember how—you've become lost, unhooked from the world you once knew. Or maybe you do remember. Maybe you are cursing your foolishness—maybe someone else's. The sky doesn't look good, dark clouds looming high above you like giant birds of prey. The sun gutters dimly like a dying flame, pale and warmless. Lightning flashes through the trees, lighting clawlike branches, and you know you must find shelter soon.

You are mulling over your strange and dismal fate when the giant, black trees part to reveal a road the color of old blood. Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the muddy roadway. As you squelch down the road, the sky breaks with rain. It comes down in trickles, then drops, then furious sheets that drive mist high into the air. Soon enough, you are soaked to the bone and have lost all sense of direction.

It is then that you see the House. Its peaked roofs loom out of the mist like the bones of a giant, and the tattered pennants at its peak whip like mad in the growing storm. Warm yellow lights pierce the mist at the entrance of the house as if to beckon you. Before you know it, the mist clears and you find yourself on the lawn of the House. A narrow, gray building of peeling plaster and fieldstone, its three floors of dark windows glare down at you like apathetic eyes. The warm lights come from oil lamps hanging inside an entrance portico at one corner of the house, which is shut with a rust iron gate.

Looking around, you see that the mist is still thick behind you; in fact, it seems to form a wall around the perimeter of the lawn and the House. You also see that other weary figures have found their way here as well. Hopefully, this place offers you a more hospitable welcome than the land around it.

That mist! Vapors that should hold no substance seemed to be steeped with a malevolence that certainly felt like it could reach out and touch you if the shivers going up her spine were any indication. Unsettled as she was, Drina knew it would be a long tense night waiting for those first rays of daybreak before she would find rest. Tugging at a fringed blanket, Drina covered the toes peaking out from the bunk from the sprawled form that had earlier assured her that he was not tired and would share his company during the wait for morn. But heavy eyes had been Vai's undoing with him succumbing not long into the night. Thus Drina moved silently around the limited space in the Vardo she called home as not to wake the sleeping boy until the obscured view from the mist called her to make a parameter check.

A parameter check. Something so simple. A chore so ingrained that the ranger didn't realize that her sharp senses caught details that others might miss like the silence of the woods. Perhaps at this elevation frogs no longer croaked out their mating calls but to hear no buzz of insects? No. Unnatural. But then Drina circled through the vegetation behind the wagon with fronds slapping at her leather boots before reaching.....no....that didn't make sense...the road....she should be at the road. Drina never was lost! Born with an internal compass, the ranger had a sense of place and yet....somehow her senses were off. It had to be that damned mist!

Desperation started to rise within as Drina acutely felt the separation from her brother. No, too many times amateurs in the wilderness were found dead because of giving way to panic so she forced herself to breathe through her nose releasing the air from her lungs back out her mouth. Now the vardo had to be somewhere to the west so she would count her steps making a grid until she found her way back. A smile of relief touched her face when moss gave way to rock. The road! But triumph was short lived as this path did not resemble the one previously traveled on her arrival. Where was she?

As if the situation couldn't deteriorate more, the skies decided to open up pelting her with a chilling rain that caused dark wet strands to cling to the planes of her face. Becoming quickly drenched, Drina turned to her right while picking up her pace as she traveled the curves of the road. A light ahead gave out hope for all the darkness that had seemed to surround her. At least it was a fixed point from which to find her way back. Perhaps someone might be able to point her in a direction. But even as the thought ran through the rangers mind, Drina noticed how the mist itself seemed to close in as if standing guard. Had the mist corralled her to a prison or was the house a source of sanctuary keeping the fog at bay? Either way Drina decided to follow the light and meet her fate.

The last thing Amalthea remembers is having drank more than she should have of the moonshine she had brewed. She had given up drinking after leaving the mountains. Dwarves drink to remember and she didn't want to remember anything until last night. It was her father's birthday and she owed him that much. She must have miscalculated how strong she had made the drink or perhaps her tolerance had gone down over these past few months.

A short young woman in chainmail and a weathered green cloak walks up to the gates. Despite the hood, her auburn hair is dripping wet. Though dwarven women often grow out their beards, she has shaved hers to try and look less conspicuous in the outside world. It doesn't help that she has a tattoo on her cheek marking her as dishonored and exiled from her clan. She takes out and looks at the amulet around her neck. It has a mountain shaped like her childhood home and a valuable red gem faceted in the middle. She considers saying a prayer for a moment, but she shakes her head and tucks it away instead.

She looks back at the mist she has left behind, thick and impenetrable. As she turns toward the front again, she sees other wayward souls. She is a bit hesitant to speak out, painful memories of camaraderie still haunting her, but she instead stands as tall as she can and relies on her paladin and soldier training. She turns to the one nearest her.

"Ay, a bit wet out. Do you know if this is an inn?"

The rituals had worked. Somehow? Did they? Surely it was not what Avalyn had expected would happen, but something had happened. She stepped through the mists, quite amazed, slightly scared. Was this truely the first step to something greater?

She steps oit of the mist, into the lawn of the house, looking around amazed.

Those already there would see a young woman in fancy green and white clothes. Blonde, a bit frecklish, not very tall for a human. She seems slightly disappointed to see the two other women here. Are they rivals in her discovery? Or could they be allies?

"Greetings," she just said, in a cautious, neutral tone of voice.

It irked him falling for such an obvious trap, with the walk in the rain and mist doing nothing to brighten his mood. He had thought himself only a mile or so outside the township but the sheeting rain disoriented him, and seeping damp was starting to chill him to the bone. So the building was a welcomed sight as he knew he needed shelter more than anything.

Approaching those standing near the entrance he pulled himself deeper into the large hood of his dark traveler’s coat, hiding within it’s black shadows. He notes their appearance searching for weaknesses if the situation was to turn south, which it did on many occasions once his identity was revealed. He would stay to himself for now and listen moving gracefully to occupy a corner of the shelter, letting his eyes search the building for anyway, asides the door, to enter.

"Obviously not an Inn." a reluctant voice says from with the hood, in a way which sounded as a surprise to themselves.

The rain seemed normal enough. The mists, not so much. They usually didn't get mist near the temple, and certainly not mists that almost seemed to move with you, tracking you, closing in on you...

Abraham wasn't completely surprised to be somewhere wholly new and unknown to him when he found his way through those mists. Dismayed, certainly... but not surprised. He assumed the house looming before him was something supernatural or mystical, due to the mists, but it also was respite from the driving rain.

As he approached, he realized others were gathered there as well. "Well met, travelers. I do not know where we are, but perhaps we can take advantage of the building before us and move out of this rain?"

Besides... if this is where the Gods, or at least the Fates, want us then walking away isn't an option. May as well face it head-on.

With that, Abraham strides directly to the door, checking the handle and entering if it is open.

Anyone paying attention to the character hiding under it’s cloak would notice the hood shaking slightly side to side, as the new arrival stride’s boldly out of the rain and pulls on the door.

Being a Gypsy meant that crowds of people didn't always favor your kind. Sure, individually ladies like the uppity looking blonde would slip into camp interested in having her fortune being read about finding her truest love or sometimes asking for a concoction of some sort to drive every man insane with desire or perhaps even hexing a rivial but then draw their skirts back and whisper to their friends as they passed you on the street that you were probably a thief. The men? Well, thief wasn't the derogatory word used when roaming eyes and hands took liberties before being pointingly dissuaded. But trouble came without borrowing it so best to keep wary but offer a smile and greeting to the rain drenched forms that had also emerged from the mist.

Holding a hand pressed to her forehead, Drina tried to keep the worst of the rain from dripping into her eyes. Greetings. Miserable night, huh? I did not see any signage as I approached so I don't believe the house is a public inn. So then, is anyone here the owner of the home or even a local that I might get directions? The ranger had thought best to brave the fog to return to her brother as quickly as possible so if she could gather the needed information, she would be on her way even though a cup of tea and warm fire would be welcomed. Comfort was the least of her concerns.

Drina gaped in horror at the sheer audacity of the man in armor as he strode to the door and without so much as a knock, tried to gain entry. If such a move was made by a Traveler then it would be the gallows for sure but apparently if you have fancy armor then certain allowances were extended to you. But now what to do? If she ran then being a Gypsy, she would appear guilty. Perhaps better to follow to explain her innocence but who would accept her word? This night just went from bad to worse!

Amalthea is about to fall in line behind the man taking charge before she stops herself. This isn't the army anymore. She instead steps back to take a look at the others and their situation.

Taking a better look, this house is indeed not an inn, nice as that would be. Perhaps the occupants are sleeping as no other lights than the ones in front of them seem to be on. She clocks the fancy woman's slight look of disappointment when she looks at them, the confident and almost foolhardy man who appears to have seen more than his years let on, and the hooded man attempting to hide in the folds of his cloak all whilst sharp eyes dart across it all. Finally, she turns to the other young woman who is staring in disbelief and notices her poorly trying to keep the rain out of her eyes. She tugs the blanket out of her pack and holds it out to her.

"Here lass, this will do you better for the rain."

As the Dwarf’s eyes scan over him Taniwha pulls the hood across slightly with wrapped hands, in hopes to shadow his appearance more. He pauses to examine those around him and listen to the conversation. The Dwarf maiden looks strong and disciplined, probably ex or current military. The dark haired female appeared as weary of others as he was, but beneath her piercing green eyes and gentle movements was a warrior. Both of these seemed unsure of their surroundings.

Whereas the other two seemed to be where they should be, either through blind faith or design. Out of the two the well dressed female held the most interest, she appeared the lest dirty and wet. Her calmness held a calculated weight to it, giving a strength and deadliness to her. Whereas the males sheer presence and blind faith made him deadly.

He remained silent in his corner watching his surroundings, his hand holding his spear of dark wood and steel in a relaxed grip.

Taniwha notes that balcony on the third floor that takes the place of the left-most window. With a monk's careful eye, he also picks up on some tinier details that most others would miss.
Meanwhile, Abraham approaches the portico. The wrought-iron gate is rusty and hangs open on one hinge. As it opens, the hinge shrieks like a screaming child. The roof over his head relieves Abraham of the torrential rain. On the wall to his right is a rotting bench with three legs, and the bright oil lamps flank moldy oak doors in front of him.

Before Abraham can reach the doorknob, a black shape lumbers up from behind the bench. The pale face of a little girl pokes out of a huge black cloak, which she has wrapped around herself to ward off the evening chill. Behind her, an equally pale toddler peeks out from the children's hiding place.

"Are you a knight?" the little girl asks. She looks around eight, and her eyes are brimming with tears. "Please help my mother and father. There's a monster in our basement!"

"Well then, that settles it," Abraham says more to himself than anyone. "Little one, I will do my best to help your parents. We have to make sure you will be safe though! Where can you go?"

This must be why the mists took me. My God wishes this child and family protected.

Turning to the other people loitering in the yard, he addresses them: "This child speaks of family threatened by a monster in the basement. Will any of you assist me in helping these people?"

Kindness by a stranger? This night was delivering all sorts of surprises. Finely arched brows had raised at the unexpected thoughtful gesture as a warmth entered those emerald green eyes spurring her to offer information of a more personal variety spoken in an exotic lilt that spoke of distant lands. "Thank you. Tis much appreciated. I am known as Drina. Kon del tut o nai shai dela tut wi o vast which means she who willingly gives one finger will also give you the whole hand." Reaching out the ranger laid hold of the offered blanket before burying her face in the folds to soak up the rain.

Lowering the cloth from those bright green eyes, Drina tracked the one in armor as he advanced upon the house. Cringing at the shriek produced as metal grated on metal as the man strong armed his way past the first barrier. A warning found its way to her lips as quickly as her hand found the hilt of her sword as Drina caught the motion of a shadow darting toward the knight. "WATCH ...." Seeing a young girl in the folds of a dark cloak silence the remainder of the warning.

This child had to be around the same age as Vai but had a vulnerability that her brother lacked. Vai would be armed with a dagger charging down the stairs to confront all that went bump in the night but he had had to grow up fast. Remaining innocent was a luxury Drina hoped these young ones could continue to indulge...that was if these two were indeed innocents and not illusions setting a trap.

Dregs! When had that carefree Gypsy girl become so jaded? No matter. Drina would give instruction whether the pair were true or false and with the interaction hopefully be able to tell.

Stepping under the protective cover, Drina bent to take a knee while offering a reassuring smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. You have been very brave taking care of your brother but I need you to continue just a bit longer as we help your parents. You were hiding so good that I didn't even see you. I need you to hide again until we return. If it becomes light before we come back then take your brother and run down the road toward your neighbors. But remember, not until light. Motioning the toddler into her lap, Drina wrapped the blanket that had been gifted her around the pudgy body before planting a kiss on top of his head. Fishing into her pouch, the ranger found a red stone that she pressed into the girl's hand as the ranger whispered fiercely, "Now take my lucky stone and squeeze it if you find yourself afraid as it holds magic to help you stay brave. I shall return for it when I come with your mother and father."

The ranger helped the children return to their hiding spots. "You can count on me to help but can we be sure sure the threat only lurks in the basement? Should we clear the rest of the house to insure we aren't surrounded?"

Abraham smiles warmly. "We know nothing. There may be no monster at all, and this could be a trap to snare passers-by set by a cult. But, on the belief the gods would not provide me with more than I can handle, I intend to assume these little ones speak the truth until I'm shown otherwise. I do think we should be intelligent in our approach though. Bravery and stupidity need not be the same."

His eyes scan the yard, through the rain, surveying the other wanderers gathered before opening the door.

Hidden within his hood Taniwha watches the interactions between the green eyed girl, Drina she said her name was, the Knight and the Children. Making note of how at easy she was with children and kind, as much as the Knight was stiff and awkward.

As the Knight lay a passive aggressive request down Taniwha gave an audible groan as he stood upright to his full five foot ten inches, shaking the rain from his hood. "Better than standing in the wet, I suppose. But may I suggest one of the window, to take those inside by surprise."

He raises a hand to point at one of the downstairs windows, revealing a pale red clawed finger in doing so. "The windows open outward, which makes it easier to pry open."

Avalyn overlooks the situation quietly for a moment. A lot of strangers, a child asking about help against a monster in the basement.
She frownns. This was not what she had expected. But no matter, maybe there was some confusion. Or a test. She nodded at the knight asking for support.
This was an opportunity to forge alliances.
"Very well, sir. I'll accompany you. My name, all, is Avalyn Valenwood. It looks like we are in this together for now."

Amalthea smiles as her face scrunches in puzzlement at Drina's proverb, but she quite understands it once she sees her using the blanket to wrap the young boy in it.

Ah well, it's probably time to get a new one anyway. I can't begrudge its use.

As Avalyn introduces herself, Amalthea turns to the group as well.

"Well met to all. We certainly cannot see these children in distress and do nothing. I am Amalthea and ready to follow your lead. What window should we try?"

At Drina's comforting words, the girl brightens and shows a shy, innocent smile. "Father says I'm brave for protecting Thorn from the monster—that's my brother. My name is Rose. Father says I'm small for my age, but I'm already ten! We tried to run away from the house, but the mist made us sick and sleepy and we had to come back. I can hide with my brother under the bench. He's scared of everything, but I help him be brave."

Thorn is indeed afraid of Drina, but he warms up to her gentle touch. Drina can feel how ice-cold his poor little body is, even though his heavy cloak. He clutches a shapeless stuffed doll closer to his chest. Rose regards the stone with wonder and gives it a tight squeeze. "I'll never let go of it. You can trust me!"

Rose shoots Abraham a hurt look when he suggests that the children may be a trap or illusion. "We're not a trap! We're real! Me, Thorn, and our baby brother Walter. He got born last week, and it was really stormy and scary. Mother took him into the basement and Vasha ran away from our home. That's the name of our nursemaid. I miss her. I hope she's okay." Rose starts to cry again but quickly squeezes the lucky stone. Thorn toddles over and hugs his sister. "Please hurry," she begs.

Abraham opens the rotting doors of the house. As soon as he is past the threshold, they slam shut behind him. Rose and Thorn jump, and Thorn begins to cry.