DnD campaign

You've definitely heard stories of Vistani slipping through the fingers of many city guards. They might not be the best of fighters, but it seems they are quite cunning, and all apparently can weave strange magic on their foes.

You have a map of Erlkazar at least, although you've never seen a "Barovia" region on it.

"No need to die here, boy," a voice from the mists says, as a woman in the fine clothes of a Erlkazarian noble steps into your sight. Her hair is raven black, and her face sallow and incredibly pale. "Stanimir, back so soon. And little lord Lucien. Why, I haven't seen you since you were still at your mother's teet."

Lucien, you do not recognize this woman, although she is wearing the badge of House Hallor, another noble house in Erlkazar.

"Begone! Our group is under the protection of our master!" Stanimir spits back at the woman, and as he does, the ground trembles and the air becomes icy cold.

A flicker of concern flashes across the woman's face, but then she says, "I intend no harm, so long as you cooperate. Boy," she says, looking at Darien, "I require your book." She holds out a single hand, the other placed impatiently on her hip.


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Can I roll a history check on the Vistani?(d20+int(prof) 11+3+2=16) on whether they are good fighters.

Also do we have a map? otherwise how do we get to Eva?

Darien, obviously annoyed whispers to evidently no one, "Oh shut it vvith that dated prose, I AM the shadow of death!"

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Your behavior seems to unnerve the inn staff, but they remain respectful and professional and thank you profusely for your stay as you all depart.

It is lightly raining as you trundle out of the village on your carriage, the sun only occasionally peaking out from behind a thick mat of low, gray clouds. The Vistani are already waiting for you by the edge of town, protected from the rain by colorful cloaks embroidered with golden thread.

The rain continues to fall intermittently for the next four days as you approach the border of Nathlan and Erlkazar. On the fourth day, as you cross over the mossy log bridge that spans the river separating these two countries, a stiff, chill wind blows by, setting the branches of the forest ahead of you to creaking and moaning. Despite the inclement weather, the Vistani remain jovial as ever, and joke about the stiff, polite nature of the Nathlanese as your caravan rumbles across the dirt road and into the forest.

As you move deeper into the forest, the air becomes colder still, and slowly a mist begins to close in around you, until you can barely see twenty feet ahead.

Suddenly, Stanimir pulls up on the reigns until his wagon and the rest of the train stops, and holds up his hand. The other Vistani immediately fall silent, and you can see an uneasy look on some of their faces. All around you, you begin noticing glimpses of figures darting through the mist, and the snapping of twigs under foot.


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That night, Darien and Lucien both have vivid dreams:

Darien dreams of a graveyard, turned to mud by a fierce rain. Around him lie the broken bodies of hundreds of men-at-arms, their broken swords and splintered spears in heaps. Before him is an unassailable foe, drawing ever closer. Darien brandishes the hilt of a broken sword as a desperate defense, and suddenly his arm erupts into blinding light, and the foe dissolves into a dark mist.

Lucien dreams of a dark room, with dozens of deathly white faces surrounding him, barely visible in the gloom, weeping silently. Before him lies a massive book, the size of a wagon. It take great effort to open it, but when he does, he is assailed by overwhelming feelings of tragedy. As he begins to read what is written in the book, he feels himself being constricted by the grip of a massive serpent, squeezing tighter, and tighter, until he awakes with a start.