Café de Nuit

Seemingly awakened by the chirping crickets, Nicolas turns around to see the diminuitive figure step out of the mists. He steps forward, calling out it in Balok: "Greeings, traveler. Perhaps you would not mind to show us your face?"

His stance looks restful, though there is the slightest fluttering of his right hand towards the hilt of his newly-repaired rapier. Yet he does not wish to draw it too soon, remembering what happened last time he did that...

Avra, absorbed in his thoughts, does not immediately notive the newcommer. When he does, he finds it difficult to conceal a sarcastic smile. He shakes his head and looks up to the heavens: "Gods, does this mist know no limit to its absurdity!"

He sighs and walks over to the small man: "ANd what have we here?" He bows, as is his custom but the fact that so many have walked into their midsts from the mists keeps Avra feeling that he is in a dream he will eventually wake up from, so long as he continues to play laong with it's actors. "I, as it seems I have been chosen to say forever, am Avra. Speak quickly 'friend' for some of the others prefer to ask quiestions after."

Avra smiles broadly.

Tavian looks confused by Avra's approach.
"S-so you're not a band of sorceror-brigands trying to kill me?" he says nervously.

After a moment of silence he stammers with a forced smile, "Oh... oh of course you aren't heh heh heh!"

Tavian looks around awkwardly, then pushes back the hood of his cloak. It reveals a thin, pale face with slightly sunken in eye sockets. He looks extremely weary yet his emerald green eyes shine with an inner-strength the likes of which you've never seen.

"I am Tavian of Barovia," he says with a slight bow towards Avra, "I was on my way to Valachan and I lost my way. I don't know how long I was walking when I was overtaken by a thick mist. Next thing I know, I'm here."

"But...none of you looks surprised."

"Lalala... I am bleeding.... and it huuurts!"

Lodissio estate is getting badder, as it seems. With his eyes glooming of fever, he stares into the wasteland before you.

"Hahaha... I know this place... Those bastards have guided us the wrong way, I am sure... This is not Willisford or any location near it, I am sure... This looks like autumn in Lamordia... I am sure...."

He staggers on his feet, but then stumbles and falls down on the ground, breathing heavily.

"Ooohh....is he gonna be ok?"

Tavian looks concernedly towards Lodissio.

"I don't think so.." Jarryd says as he kneels down beside Lodissio to check on the wound. "Deep cut, and don't know if there has been poison on the blade that did this".

"I not know if someone here can cure this, but I will try to stop the bleeding so we can continue, until we find somewhere safe to rest.." he says producing a white clot form his backpack.

Seeing that Lodissio is quite angry, he says to him: "Let me try and stop the bleeding..".

Lodissio is too weak resist any attempt to heal him - or whatever. It should become apparent to the party that the satyr is on death's door. - Only the gods know how Path might have ben affected by the disease, wherever he is...

Seemingly lost in thought for some time Alain snaps out of it and finally notces what is going on around him.
There is someone new in their midst, lodissio in on the ground and it seems as though no one can save him.

What else can go wrong? He thinks to himself.

He looks to the newcomer with a weary expression, somewhat hopefull yet and asks:
"Can you help our freind?"

"Only if by helping him you mean putting him out of his misery," Tavian says with a quick grin.

Then, more seriously, he says, "Unfortunately, I have not the power to mend wounds. Perhaps we should find a place to rest? Is there an inn nearby?"

Alain's expression loses all hope for their guide. He looks to the stranger.

"If we only knew..."he says.
"This here is our guide. Without him, we are for the most part without any understanding of what may lie ahead of us."
He then looks to the party.

"Maybe if we find a place to set up for the night, Lodissio here may stand a chance of getting through this." He seems to look at everyone else with a face that says he hopes someone has a better idea.

[On next Saturday, if you haven't found any solution by then, SOMETHING will happen to Lodissio. ]

OOC: What time of day is it?

((sorry about the pause.. I'm only just back )

Shana has been gazing frantically into the fog, calling Path, half stepping into the mists, then pulling back as memories hit her. At last she gives up with a sad sigh and approaches the group again, eying the newcomer who replaced Path a little suspiciously, and the short man with a welcoming smile.

"Greetings; I'm Shana, a travelling entertainer. I had a similar experience with the mists... "

((Shana is a very attractive young lady of about eighteen, dressed in a somewhat daring green outfit; a short top and skirt, cut to be high at the hips but fall almost to the calves at front and back. She is wrapped currently in a long green cloak, hood pulled back to reveal red hair. picture; http://illuminatorsguild.com/artists/sh ... =12&pid=53

Shana looks with concern at Lodissio, but seems uncertain what to do.

"He needs a cleric...fast! does anyone have any idea where we are?"

If you can wait eight hours, I can change my selection of spells and take some healing.