Iron & Gold, Curse of Strahd
Previous: Chapter 24 A Cult Occult — Chapter 26 The Festival of the Sun
Being The Curse of Strahd but played with Precis Intermedia Games’ Iron & Gold, with Mythic as the GM.
25 - Rictavio’s Secret[1]
Ninefingers made it to the Blue Water Inn fairly easily, with only one person yelling, “Hi, Yesk!” from across the street. Ninefingers waved and hurried on.
He had not toured around this side of the inn last time. Rather than go in through the locked stable, he saw another door, and (making sure no one was watching) entered. He found himself in a wine storage room. There was a pile of twelve barrels at one end, by the entrance to the rest of the inn, and three barrels resting in cradles, with taps. All had the Wizard of Wines emblem burned into them.
A raven flew from the inside of the inn and landed on the top of the stack of barrels. “Hi,” whispered Ninefingers. “I mean no harm, if you are a raven who can understand me.” The bird kept looking at him. “I'll assume you do. I need a place to hide for some part of the day, and I need to speak to Rictavio. In private, I hope.”
The raven cawed once.
“I can't tell if that was agreement or not,” Ninefingers said. “One for yes, two for no.”
Instead of cawing,the raven left as another raven came in and perched on a barrel.
“Right,” said Ninefingers. “You don't know if I'm going to poison the wine. You should be getting some wine soon. Tell you what. I'm going to make myself inconspicuous and wait.” He took off the robe and folded it into a bundle, which he stashed under his cloak. This left him in his dark clothes, and he folded himself into a space by the empty barrels.
A few minutes later, Urwin came in. He knocked on each of the tapped barrels, judging how full they were.
Ninefingers spoke. “Urwin, you should be getting more wine soon. We dealt with the problem at the winery, and Yester Hill.” Ninefingers shook his head. “I think we fixed the problem at the winery, but problems swarm like moths in Barovia.”
Urwin did a terrible job of acting surprised. “Indeed.” Urwin looked at Ninefingers. “You did? Handle the problem at the winery?”
“We did. I think we handled it permanently, but someone should check Yester Hill regularly for a Gulthias tree. Apparently they grow back.” Ninefingers paused. “By the way, I think your father will be pleased to see you.”
“Who told you about my father? Davian told you he was my father?”
“Him? No. I don't think he'd tell us which way was down while we were falling. Your brother told us.”
“My brother?”
Ninefingers nodded. “It’s not that big a stretch: you’re all named Martikov.” Ninefingers paused. “And he told us your family's secret.”
Urwin sighed. “I guess you'd better come in. I’ll take you to the stable.”
Ninefingers unfolded himself from his hiding place and followed Unwin into the pleasant-smelling kitchen. Ground meat was piled on the table, along with other cut vegetables and four pie shells. A fire had been laid in the oven but not lit.
“I was making herder pies,” said Unwin. “Make the meat last longer. No one has been hunting because of today’s festival.”
“Festival? Didn’t you just have one?”
Unwin laughed without humour. “Our Baron has decreed that the key to safety is fun—a happy heart keeps out the dark, he says—so he decrees a new festival every week or two. This is the Festival of the Blazing Sun. Next is the Gala of Good Wishes. Any who express other ideas are imprisoned for 'malicious unhappiness' or some such.” Unwin led Ninefingers into the stable, which smelled of hay and horse-sweat and other old horsey smells. Urwin pointed to the only horse stabled there, a gray mare. “That’s Rictavio’s horse Drusilla. I’ll send him out shortly.” Drusilla flicked her tail and regarded them curiously.
“Thank you,” said Ninefingers.
Unwin spent a moment barring the doors to the north and south. “Now people can only enter through the locked stable doors.”
“Good.” Ninefingers thought about his friends. “Um. I am not sure that my friends could keep their mouths shut from malicious unhappiness.”
Urwin said, “Expect them to be imprisoned, then.”
Ninefingers sighed. “I might need your help. At least a raven should keep an eye on us.”
Unwin chuckled. “Did you not realize? You have had a raven watching you for much of the time since the village of Barovia, though lately we have lost you for a bit at a time, and you travel incredibly fast.”
“Hrelgi has learned to teleport,” Ninefingers explained, “but only to places she has already been.” He chuckled. “We’ve been a lot of places in the last week.”
“Ah, that's where you went.” The innkeeper nodded.
“Yup. Was the light across the river in Berez one of your people? Hrelgi wanted so much to investigate but Felewin wouldn't let her unless she figured out a way to get us across the river still dry.” Ninefingers smiled. “She was so frustrated.”
“That was one of ours.” The innkeeper gazed down at Ninefingers. “You will not mention that other matter? Regarding my family?”
“I will not.”
The innkeeper nodded and left the goblin in the shadowed stable. The top was open to a rookery on the second floor. Several ravens stood in the beams of the stable, watching Ninefingers. Ninefingers waved to them.
Ninefingers took the opportunity to hide in the stall next to Drusilla. The stall was empty but for a pitchfork and a bucket of some kind of grain. Both were made of wood. The workmanship on the pitchfork was quite elegant. Many people might not have souls in Barovia, but some cared about their work.
Rictavio entered from the inn. “Drusilla, what have you got into now? Not colic, I hope.”
“Actually,” said Ninefingers, “I asked to see you.” He stepped out of the stall.
Rictavio looked down at Ninefingers, surprisingly serious, and then remembered to smile. “Of course! But if you are going to show me an act for my show, you will have to perform it in public eventually, not just for horses.” He put one hand under his cloak.
Ninefingers said patiently, “Not about your show, which I suspect does not exist, but sure. Whatever.” He eyed Rictavio’s hand, hidden nder his cloak.
Rictavio pulled out an apple for the horse. “Drusilla loves apples.”
“I’m glad you had one,” said Ninefingers. He wasn’t quite sure how to start, and then decided to just launch into it. “You are a wizard of some stripe,” said Ninefingers, “because you were carrying a spell scroll that can only be read by wizards.” The goblin held up a hand. “I know, because I stole it and read through it. Unfortunately, I did not have a chance to return it before the guard came for us.”
Rictavio took it in stride. “Excellent that you are going to return it. I was holding that for a friend, and she had said it was of such import—”
Ninefingers interrupted. “We used it. We needed access to the village of Krezk, and to get that, we brought the burgomaster’s son back to life.”
“Oh. Oh, dear. If you don’t have it to return, why are you here?”
“Because Felewin insists I return something to you. We were dealing with Baba Lysaga, and she had a scroll. Its effect is not as good as yours was but it does revive the dead.” Ninefingers produced the scroll and handed it to Rictavio, who glanced at it and tucked it away.
“‘Dealing with’? As in bartering?”
“As in we killed her.” Ninefingers shook his head. “So much is happening, and we’re caught up in it. I suppose that’s the fate of anyone brought into this land, as you were. However, we might not survive our next encounter, so Felewin insisted that I make good as much as I could.”
“Thank you, but…where is Felewin?”
“If he’s lucky, hiding. If not, imprisoned by the Baron.” Ninefingers sighed. “So, because I have some time to wait until I discover which is true, who are you really and why are you here?”
Rictavio laughed. “A goblin who is to the point, is that it?”
Ninefingers said, “There is no time for subtlety. You are not what you seem, and I might need your help.”
“Help in what?”
“Depends. Perhaps freeing my friends. Perhaps in surviving our visit to Castle Ravenloft.”
Rictavio sucked in his breath. “You are going to Castle Ravenloft?”
Ninefingers nodded. “Lord Strahd invited us for dinner. Felewin seems to think we will survive.”
“You have your doubts?”
“Strahd’s a vampire. Yes, I have my doubts.”
“But Felewin doesn’t?”
“Felewin says that Strahd seems to keep his promises and he has promised we’ll survive the dinner. He’s probably right — he has an annoying habit of seeing the best in people, and he’s often right — but I keep looking for the angle. Maybe we survive the meal but die right after dessert. We survive the visit but not the return home. Maybe we have to leave one of our group at the castle to ensure our behaviour. Like that. We probably shouldn’t take Ezmerelda.”
“Who? Not the one who said her name was Katrina, that I met?”
“No, different woman. Vistana. We’ve only just met her. And I know, don’t trust the Vistani where Strahd is concerned.”
Rictavio said, “You probably shouldn’t take her. What does she look like, this Ezmerelda?”
“I haven’t seen enough Vistani women to tell them apart. Younger than Madame Eva.”
“Almost everyone is,” said Rictavio.
“Do you know who Madame Eva is?”
“I might have heard the name.”
“I’m running off at the mouth. I asked you questions, you haven’t had a chance to answer them.”
“What questions?”
“Who are you really? What are you doing here? I’m guessing you aren’t actually Strahd in disguise; he’d have no need of a spell that restores life.”
“I’m not Strahd,” Rictavio assured him.
“Which is what Strahd would say, but I’m going to believe you.” The goblin thought for a moment. “We got a tarokka reading from Madame Eva which spoke of an ally, snf of three items we needed to fight Strahd. We have two of the three items and have found and temporarily lost the ally.”
“What are these items? How are they supposed to help?” Rictavio asked.
“I’m not going to trust you with everything,” Ninefingers said. “What I fear is that these are items that Strahd actually wants but can’t approach; getting us to get them is a nice way to gather them. He might have set this up to run with most groups of adventurers; once you find two of the three items, he invites you to dinner, takes them, and boom, he’s got more artifacts that can hurt him.”
“That’s….quite sneaky.” Rictavio looked thoughtful.
“Thank you.” Ninefingers added, “I think. And you still haven’t answered my questions.” He sighed again. “All of this stays between us, your horse, and any birds overhearing us.”
“What an odd phrasing,” said Rictavio.
Drusilla made a sound, and Rictavio replied, “I’m sorry, my sweet, but I have no more apples.”
The lock on the door rattled as someone unlocked it.[2] Ninefingers hid inside the stall. He eyed the walls between stalls: he could climb them but that wouldn’t be graceful or stealthy. This had been the wrong place to hide if they were going to search the stable.
But the ravens didn’t make a racket, Ninefingers thought. Still he got himself ready to dash, if he needed to.
“Thank you,” he heard Hrelgi say. “I can manage from here. And thank you for escorting me; I guess I didn’t need a horse after all. Have a good ride back to the Baron.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said a man’s voice, and then one of Urwin’s sons said, “I must return the key to my father. Pardon me, miss, while I lock you in.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Hrelgi said. She waved to the horse and stepped into the stable. The doors shut behind her. She looked around. “Oh. Rictavio. How lovely to see you again. Have you seen anyone else I know?”
Ninefingers stepped out of the stall. “It went well?” Hrelgi nodded. “He and I have been talking.” The goblin grimaced. “Mostly I have been talking and he has been listening. I still don’t know who he is or what he wants.”
“Well,” said Hrelgi, “he’s not Barovian because he’s being a half-elf and there aren’t any half-elves in Barovia. Strahd won’t allow any kind of women to the elves.”
“I am from outside Barovia,” Rictavio admitted. “I have never denied that.”
“Right. And magical as all get-out, I would guess. At least one artifact besides the scroll, maybe two or three. I can see the warping of reality around you. If you’re here, Strahd arranged for you to come, or you chose to come here. I mean, Strahd might make mistakes but he thinks he calls people here; he said he summoned us. But he doesn’t know about you so he didn’t summon you, so you chose to come here.”
Rictavio watched her warily.
“Why would somebody choose to come here? If it was a choice, then you’d heard about it. I mean, we can dismiss the whole circus idea because frankly the place can’t support a circus.”
“How do you know?” asked Rictavio.
“I heard Ninefingers and Felewin arguing about it. Ninefingers’ reasoning was good.”
“Thank you,” said Ninefingers.
“Really, there’s only one reason to come here. Vampires.”
“Perhaps a loved one of mine was kidnapped by werewolves,” said Rictavio.
“Perhaps, but we haven’t seen any werewolves. We’ve definitely seen vampires. No, if you chose to come here, I think it was because of vampires. You’re a monster hunter of some kind.”
Ninefingers said, “That makes sense. I forget you have a good mind, Hrelgi.”
Hrelgi dimpled. “Thank you.”
Rictavio said, “Or I’m a circus impresario who has been lost…”
“You’re not,” said Ninefingers flatly.
“I am not sure this conversation should continue.”
“Ah, but we can use a monster hunter,” Hrelgi said. “A circus impresario, not so much.”
“I admit nothing.” Rictavio looked up at the half-dozen ravens perched on the rafters. “What would you need a monster hunter to do?”
“Well, hold something for starters.” Hrelgi reached into the bag where she kept her grimoires and pulled out the tome they had found in Madame Eva’s camp. “We’ve copied everything we can read, but there might always be more, and if we’re walking right into Strahd’s home, maybe something should not come with us?” She took the outer wrapping off the package she carried and covered the book, then handed it to Rictavio.
“Strahd wants this?” Rictavio held it gingerly.
“We’re just asking you to hold it,” said Ninefingers. “Like the scroll.”
“He might not want the book,” Hrelgi said. “Maybe it’s a trap. Either way, it shouldn’t be with us.”
“I might find a place to store it for you,” Rictavio admitted. “As a circus impresario, nothing more.”
“Sure,” said Ninefingers.
“Totally,” said Hrelgi.
Ninefingers asked Hrelgi, “Felewin and Uthrilir?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have a choice about leaving,” she said. “They gave me a mounted escort and everything.”
“The Baron wanted to give you the gown that badly? Magic?”
“No, magic can’t do that. I never saw the Baron. The Baroness thinks that one of the Wachter boys got a woman pregnant and has to get married. According to her, my presence was a ploy by their mother to get a wedding gown.”
“You told her this?” Ninefingers asked.
Hrelgi shook her head. “She made it up herself.”
“The Wachter youths come around the Blue Water Inn frequently,” said Rictavio.
“But I never got to look for Uthrilir and Felewin. So we have to find them before they try to get me out of some jail that I’m not in!”
Ninefingers nodded. “Take some time and deliver the gown to Dmitri. Better to not have it in the way where it could be damaged if we have to fight.”
“I can deliver it,” said Rictavio. “If time is of the essence.”
“Thanks, but you’re not really invested in this. You won’t even tell us your real name,” said Ninefingers.
“And not while there are witnesses.” He looked up.
“Oh, goodness,” said Hrelgi. She said to the roof, “Can you leave us alone for just a bit of time? He’s going to whisper his real name to us and tell us why he’s here.”
There was a rustling of feathers and the sound of wings.
“Okay,” Hrelgi said. “The ravens have left us alone for a bit.”
“Wereravens?” Rictavio asked.
“No,” said Ninefingers, “just that ravens are the smartest birds.”
“Now who’s lying?” Rictavio asked.
“You get what you give,” Ninefingers said.
Rictavio sighed and whispered, “Van Richten.” Hrelgi looked blank; Ninefingers looked impressed.
The goblin asked, “And your first name is…?”
“Rudolph, but if you know it, I could have learned it the same way.”
Ninefingers said, “You would be surprised how many grifters forget to check simple ideas like that. Sometimes it’s a filter to make sure you don’t get a mark who’s too bright.” He shrugged. “Okay, we’ve established that you’re either a famous vampire hunter who has changed his appearance or a better class of con artist.”
“I used magic,” Rictavio said.
“Magic is the answer to so much,” Ninefingers said.
“Not as much as you would think,” said Hrelgi. “Ring is probably the most convenient; unlike a brooch or an amulet, you don’t take them off for a bath or a swim.”
“Why don’t you show this intellect when we’re with the others?” Ninefingers asked.
“Don’t need to,” Hrelgi replied. “There is a tailor wizard in Westport who specializes in clothing items to change your appearance. He sells mostly to vain wealthy people. So the magic is possible. He mostly does tummy reductions and hair replacement, but you need something a bit more extensive. He had those, too…met a thief who used one.”
Ninefingers whistled. “You did move in different circles.”
“Thief was trying to steal Uthrilir’s doohickey. Thing about magic disguise items is that they’re really obvious once you know what to look for.” She cast a spell.[3] “Two scrolls, one magic ring, one magic shirt, and you are most definitely a wizard, but hiding it well.”
“Not well enough.” Rictavio smiled. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“What a lot of wizards,” Hrelgi commented. “I used to go months without seeing someone else magically inclined but this town has at least two.”
Ninefingers asked, “Who’s the other?”
“Baronet,” said Hrelgi. “Self-taught, and not very good,” she explained to Rictavio.
“Is he controlling the minds of the Baron and Baroness, or doing their bidding?” Rictavio asked.
Hrelgi laughed. “He admitted he’s a wizard, to impress me,” said Hrelgi. “Even accounting for how short-lived humans are, Victor is young. Important thing is, how do we find Felewin and Uthrilir?”
Ninefingers said, “I see three possibilities: They have been arrested, they are in hiding somewhere and waiting for you, or they’re in a more immediate kind of trouble.”
“One of those is easy to check,” said Rictavio. “The impresario Rictavio will go into the Burgomaster’s home and ask after them.”
“Because…?” Ninefingers asked.
“Felewin said he could train wolves.” Rictavio bowed.
“When?” Hrelgi asked.
“He didn’t,” Ninefingers said. “But he does have some background in animal handling. Good enough. Hrelgi, deliver the gown before the Baroness changes her mind.”
“And you?”
“Someone’s got to wait for news.”
Previous: Chapter 24 A Cult Occult — Chapter 26 The Festival of the Sun
Game Mechanics
[1] No Mythic suggestion; this was originally a part of a longer previous session. I decided to break them in two.
[2] Ninefingers makes his Stealth roll with a margin of 1.
[3] Hrelgi rolls a 2 on her Fabrica Sphaera spell. Triumph!
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