Chapter One - The Village of Barovia

Taniwha had heard Shaelyn‘a explanation of the nights procession in the haze of his half wake state before sleep took him. He had slept the sleep reserved for the dead, heavily as only a teenager can do. Upon waking his muscles and body ached taking almost an hour of meditation and stretching to iron it out, ready to take on the day. He finished the ration pack for the previous evening, collected his gear and was set ready to travel with Amalthea. His meditation had given him the feeling that he should follow the Dwarf, to whatever means to an end that should bring.

"I am with you, Amalthea." he said simply pulling his hood about him.

As the others sort themselves to leave, Taniwha rummages through his pack grabbing what he needs to travel light. Slips a dagger into a boot, grabs what coins he has and his spear.

Seeing as they are still lingering upon the threshold, Amalthea decides to strike up conversation before they head out into the unknown.

"Um, maybe it would be good for us to share what our strengths are, before we head out. I am familiar with Mr. Taniwha, but it might be good to review. I was trained as a paladin and have emergency healing capabilities. I was more to help protect the important people up front in battle, though, so I am better at sensing fiends and shielding those beside me."

The dwarf pauses and looks expectantly at the others.

"Oh yes, my companions and I were unable to read this scroll we found. Perhaps its secrets will be unveiled to one of you instead?"

She then holds out the third scroll they found in the mysterious house. (Third scroll is still a mystery; perhaps it's not meant for a paladin to read)

The scroll is as illegible to Shaelyn as it is to Amalthea; the letters are flickering and ephemeral. The only one in the room who can read it is Brother Martin, and he sees that it is a spiritual weapon spell.

Taniwha crosses his arms and leans casually against a wall, though slightly hunched over as thou trying to hide in the shadows of his hood. He is quiet while the other talk, waiting for Brother Crowley to finish before talking, "I was raised to use my body as a weapon, as well as the weapons I carry. But the streets I ended up on taught me the way of stealth and taking what I need to survive. As for death, the Gods don’t care how you live or die, so why would they care how you are buried."