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Day 5: Eve of the festival

Elder Turi found, and the estate of Corlyhaus explored. Also the Drunk Bluto killed and the drowned Anabelle saved, earning the appreciation of a Vistanti Elder and the introduction to Kasamir a Dusk Elf with important information. A very productive outing. Tomorrow is the Fesival. And Edmond is intent on facing the horrors of the Windmill.
Having had a brief description of what Edmund would have them do the next day, a task she can support even if it is not necessarily her first goal, Lost will spend her evening in the church. She nods to the often serious and impulsive warrior of the light, before stepping away. Lostariel seeks out Father Lushan, and sees if there are any tasks that she will be allowed to help with while they stay here. Given any like sweeping or dusting, she will tend to them in quiet contemplation unless/until disturbed, letting her mind reach out soulfully to pray to Pholtus. Though usually silent around her companions, to her god, she has no trouble communicating her turbulent thoughts. It is a connection as natural as breathing. My Lord, this land is so troubled. Each dawn that rises here, I am more and more sure that You lead me here for a reason. There is darkness and chaos everywhere we turn. Indeed, we seem assaulted by it. Today we found remains of some wicked ritual room and a statue that chilled me to the bones, in a house that somehow comes from actual descendants of Father Cecil. That connection leaves a bitter taste on my tongue, and far too many questions in my mind. If none of us have heard of this land, this Devil Strahd, how can it be that Cecil is the decedent of a noble household here? He seems as surprised as we, but... His behavior, and now this 'coincidence', cast me into thoughts I would rather not be having. Is it possible that Cecil was involved in leading us here? He is the newest member to the Church, and yet he gained position so quickly, and this his first time charged in leading a hunt when so many others were better experienced, has conveniently lead us here? Edmund or I both would have been better choices. I am the most active of the Church's hunters, the most successful, and Edmund has more time there than any of us. Yet they selected Father Corly, and today, in this other world, we stumble into his family home? There was a statue in the Corly house, something I barely wish my mind to linger on, as it's appearance chilled my bones. There is no way by Your divine grace that that thing was anything short of evil. And again, to find this connected to Cecil's history, what witchery did they commit? The best I can hope is that it is this evil that drove his family into service, that they turned from it and towards You in a search for redemption, and yet... There are too many coincidences.  I pray to You for guidance on this, lest my suspicions get the better of me. All by Your will, Pholtus, I trust in You and only You. Further deeds we did in Your holy name today, My Lord, was the rescue of a young child. She would have been drowned by a man, and likely was not the first child who had been sent to the cold depths of this lake by this soul's villiany. We saved her, the lucky little brat, and even saw her safely home. She was the offspring of the people we'd been warned worked with Strahd, and in spite of that, I was glad to see her back in her father's arms. At night, even in this bright church with it's loyal brethren, I have but to look out the glass and see the darkness enveloping the world outside. It feels hungry, Pholtus, that thick blackness. Perhaps the only thing that keeps me strong now, is that I too am hungry. This land is ripe for my service to You, and if it is a challenge You've laid before me to test me, or even a task You set me to please You, I would gratefully accept it. Every wicked life we eliminate, every sinful encounter we divert, it is by Your light and Your way. I would have You pleased with Your loyal followers, even the misguided among them. Shape me to serve You, Lord. Let Your living weapon in this dark land best suit Your will. She pauses in her sweeping, leaning her bare shoulder against the cold stone wall by one of the church windows, golden eyes staring past the glass to the night sky beyond.
These church walls did little to comfort Gildas. They were a stark reminder of what was becoming of his proud and ancient traditions, but for the time being, they did offer some solice. Not in the hymns sung, or the mass spoken, but in the solidity of the stone it was built of. He could apreciate the way the stones were miticusly set, and the planning involved. He idly wondered how many it took to plan such a structure, and how many more hands commited to the task. His heart ached for the groves of his youth, the way that everyone was so tied together in the tending of the woods, how the true elders crafted the living wood for years on end, creating their shelters and even works of breathing art from them. This dreary place filled him with painful nostalgia, but he allowed it to sharpen his mind, to bolster his will rather then drag him down. He would never again see such spleandor, but he would live to return home and spend his days trying to recreate its' majesty. In his wanderings about the church, he saw the huntress doing the unexpected task of housework. Curious, he approached to see her attempting to stargaze as he saw it. "With a such consistant downpour, I have yet to catch glimpse of the Moon. Have you any better luck, Lostariel?"
She looks back, startled for a second before the sight of the druid eases her initial tension. "I see it always, whether in the night sky or in my dreams. It is the other side of the coin of Lord Pholtus, a powerful talisman. He is represented both in the warm rays of the sun that bless our days, and in the magical moonlight that bathes the land when darkness creeps. Why do you ask? Does your... Your 'worship' of the old faith make you yearn for the moon? If so, be at ease. Pholtus is here with us, protecting and guiding us, almost always."
Gildas nods at her words. As he had suspected, the huntress knew of his people's traditions. She had the appearance of one of the grove wardens, but little of the demeanor, and her constant refrence and reverence for the church's stolen patron was unsettling. Dispite all her zelotry, she was the most even-headed of those sent to aid Nulb, that much he could respect, as well as he could see that she was clearly different then the other two men of the church in her worship. They were bound in the rigid structure and politics, where this young woman was more earnast and pure in her faith, much in the ways that one of his kinsmen would be, just with a much more single-minded focus. "As you devote your adoration to the Horned God, I give mine more to the Goddess. I have always felt a kinship with Her. The purity of Her light, the guardian in the darkness, giving hope to the faithful when He is at rest. There is a beauty in their balance, that one stand guard over the faithful while the other slumbers. Long have I strove to exemplify Her strength, Herr compassion and the guardian spirit she represents." He gives a slightly dour chuckle. "I fear that lately, I may have been a dissapointment to her. I should however be thankful that none but myself have been severly injured yet, so I haven't failed completely yet... This land is dark and full of terrors, and at times it seems almost too daunting a task to keep the others safe, I'm sure you can agree. I doubt the dificulty of our task will deter either one of us, however. Our devotion keeps us strong."
@Gildas   "Where is Ireena?"  ((DC 17 CHA (about an Hour After Sundown))
@ Gildas "... I worry not for their safety at all, beyond prayers to Pholtus to watch over all. I prayed for you last night, and here you are, so clearly you are lucky to be in His considerations still. Forgive my harshness, but if we are meant to pass according to His plans, then we simply will." Her expression turns a little disdainful of the Elder's referencing her God by the wrong title, and more so, suggesting he share domain with any night goddess. Her life with her parents allows her to know exactly what he is referencing, but it's clear by her head shake, she no longer agrees with that line of faith. "Your 'goddess' is nothing more than a feminized ideology of Pholtus true circumference, a way to appeal to more followers by slipping a guise over the many aspect of a true deity. Take peace in it, if you will, but do not be mistaken. In the darkest hours of the evening, it is still Lord Pholtus who watches over you. Whether or not you have disappointed in your worship, that is something only you can know." "I agree very much with the state of your injuries. When you returned from the woods, your arm hung by a scrap of flesh. You are lucky to still have use of it."
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((Why couldn't it be Wisdom like last time? I'd have made it that time... -_-  CHA Save Result 16 So what's the result/ requirement?))
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@Dm Edmond spends his night in his room doing upkeep on his armor and sword. He will praying knowing the fact he is the weakest of the group and how he plans to face such a horrible creature. Hopping he can saved any children that might be there and trying to prepare for any horrors he might see involving them.
its Cha becasue I'm an idiot that doesnt look at his notes, reroll wisdom
((how is Edmond the weakest in the group?...weakest willed? most likely to become a vamp?))
((Oh thank god... WIS Save: 21 So am I free for the time being?))
Gildas gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "You are not wrong. The Goddess and the Horned God both are personifications of the same, unknowable celestial force. Man, woman, sun, moon... Everything in nature has it's balance. The names are not what is important, but respect for what they are is. If you would like, would you join me in greeting the dawn? It would be good to have some company. As for my arm, I am very fortunate that the healers were able to save it. A lesson to be more cautious..."
@serrick yep you are free at long last, your memory of some details are foggy but you remember whats in the forums. You have two puncture marks on your neck.
@ Gildas She considers his offer in silence for a long moment. While she understands his beliefs, she cannot help the sadness that he has not become enlightened with the truth. She remembers her days in the darkness of being uneducated about Pholtus, and it is a time that even now, can bring her unhappiness. Since her Awakening, she views the years before as being aimless in the world. It was His blessings on her that gave her purpose and place in the world. Gildas seems, to her, as lost as she once was. Looking for answers that 'A horned god' and a 'goddess', were never going to provide. "If you are awake, and around at the time, I would not mind the companionship as I greet Lord Pholtus while he once more bathes the land with His light."
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The Raven said: ((how is Edmond the weakest in the group?...weakest willed? most likely to become a vamp?)) In Edmonds mind he is the weakest cause the others have some fourms of magic weather it be items or spells. Or other ways to add to there strength and ferocity like sinful cat. All Edmond has is his skills and a nonmagic silver sword that has served him well these past 5 years. A gift given to him in service to the church. ((btw this in character am not complaining its just how Edmond views the situation))
The druid could almost feel the huntress looking down on him for the beliefs that he suspected she once held. It was heart-wrenching to see one do purly devout, turn a blind eye to the greater picture, the true beauty of the world around them for such single-minded focus. Still, it was obvious that she was in a class seperate to those that traveled with her. They were clearly indoctrinated, gladly, if blindly following obediantly to the church's tune. Her worship was basesd on obvious devotion, and even if she wished to admit to it or not, based as it seemed on the principals that he held true to. He respected this, and looked forward to exploring her mindset of faith, to compare hers to his own. Gildas smiled and nodded, glad to have the oppertunity to have someone there for his morning ritual, even if they were going to doubtlessly look down on him for it. He looked as though he was going to say something further, but there was a sense of vertigo that washed over him, causing him to sway on his feet and for him to grip the wall to steady himself. He spent a moment trying to collect himself, hand pressed on the side of his head as if to sooth it.
For a second as she witnessed him swaying, Lost was convinced that perhaps Pholtus had picked that exact time to awaken the druid to the true faith, as the man appeared to swoon. Soon, it became clear to her this was something else and considering all the man had been through since their arrival... She straightens her frame, reaching towards him with one hand though her expression is leery, the other hand touches on her bow. "Turi? What is it? Are you ill?"
The unbalanced feeling fades as quickly as it set on, leaving him feeling somehow lighter, as though some weight had been suddenly lifted from his mind. "I'm fine, Lostariel. Better then I have been in the last day, I believe. It's like a fog has lifted around my head..." Gildas rights himself and gives himself an appraising once-over, checking and bending his arms and legs. After a moment, he seems satisfied that nothing seems to be the matter with him, he addresses the huntress more directly. "I feel a little more clear-headed now, anyways. With all that has happened to us already, and what generally seems to go on in this place, I will be glad when we are finally done and able to put it all behind us."
Not entirely convinced, she gives him a slow nod of her head. At the very least, he sounds fine, and she can see nothing physically wrong with the man, but that was a unique reaction. The elf takes up her broom again, giving him a nod as she moves off to begin the chore anew. "Perhaps we'll see each other in the morning. Until then, good evening, Elder Turi."
The druid looked on for a brief moment, debating what he had felt and how, if at all he should discribe it. In the end, Gildas decided that he needed to confide in -someone- and out of all the people that were under his watch, this one seemed the best equipped for the kinds of burdens that he would share. He took another few steps forward, so that his lowered voice could be heard by the elven woman. "It was the Barron, Lostariel. I had been hearing him in my mind the last day. Urging me to call on him in his castle, to find the location of the girl he seeks and report it to him. It has been like a pressure in my head since he showed up at the church's doorstep, and now I feel the weight of it lifted, that mine is the only voice left in my head."
She pauses sharply, form rigid as her own drawn bow string. She looks over one shoulder at him, expression clearly guarded at the news he was sharing, "... And you weren't able to tell him? That's why your questions earlier? Elder, you must tell the others this information. It means if you are rational now, it is either because you've broken from the magic, or he's released you, albeit temporarily or for good is unbeknownst to us. If he did not get what he wanted from you, he may try other means. They deserve to be best prepared as they can be. I..." Lostariel pauses, quietly thinking for a moment. "I will be missing our morning prayer, I believe. I have something I must attend to." She turns quickly, silver mane whipping around herself, and makes her way to find Father Lushan.
"His urging did have part in the questions, yes. I did, and do still have an interest in knowing what the group knows so as to feel like I have some level of belonging within it. Knowing what we do about my condition, I say that it is for the best that this particular bit of information remain from me, and in the hands of as few people as possible." Lostariel's reaction was not surprising, though he was disappointed at the prospect of loosing their morning meeting, he could not truly regret having told her what he had. Better for her to know now, then risk some inopportune revelation later. The huntress was right, the others did deserve to know, but the same reasons he did not say openly before still ring true. The two men would likely have a quite negative reaction to the news. The swordsman was already openly hostile towards him, having actually attacked him on more then one occasion now. He and the priest worked closely together and there is no reason to believe that they didn't share the same viewpoint and attitudes towards him. Their newest tag-along was still a mystery player whose intent was unknown, but he at least for the moment seemed positively inclined, if only slightly. Gildas figured that the one who would otherwise handle this the best was Pea. Her reactions could be unpredictable, but he sensed that he at least held some respect in her mind. As Lostariel turned to leave, he called out to her, hoping for a moment more. "If there is something I can assist you with, please tell me. I will remain here for now and take up your task in your absence. Be safe Lostariel, I wish you luck and that the dawn finds you safely back here." Strahd... this monster of a man needs to be saved from himself. For the good of himself, and for that of the people in this acursed land.
(( Damn that's one super clean floor))