The Lightcarrier watched the Barovian man wrapped in the rose robes of their order cautiously. He was tall and broad shouldered, with a swarthy complextion and dark hair and eyes as all Barovians did, and a long thick mustache in the style of many young Barovian men. He seemed likable enough, talking freely and easily with the other faithful and sharing a deep boisterou laugh. Never the less, he couldn't shake his suspicions of a Barovian man being in their church. He was of Gundarakite birth himself and knew all too well what the majority of the ethnic Barovians felt of their faith. Chief Lightcarrier Trandafirr had instructed him to be accepting, but he was not yet convinced he wasn't some sort of spy, and watched him warily throughout the service.
After Dawn services, the Barovian man approached him, smiling warmly and offered his hand. The Lightcarrier reluctantly shook it. "Buena Ziua, Brother. I am Friar Cosmin Milosovici- it's a pleasure to meet you", the Barovian said while smiling and shaking his hand. "I can't help but notice you've been staring at me all morning." The Lightcarrier cleared his throat and stumbled over a response, but Cosmin raised his hand and smiled. "Your wondering what the hell a Barovian man is doing in a house of worship lifting his hands in praise to the Morninglord, am I correct?" He said whilst smoothing his mustache. The Lightcarrier straightened, and nodded, saying "It does seem. . . out of place to me, with respects brother."
Cosmin laughed; responding with a grin "I'd be suspicious of me too, da?" He twisted one of the ends of his mustache and smiled "But I am no spy, no fake- I came to the Morninglord after a series of unusual events". The Lightcarrier looked at him appraisingly, then nodded saying "I'd hear the story some time, if you ever feel to tell it" Cosmin smiled good naturedly and nodded, "Nows good for me, Brother, if it's good for you."
----
My father was one of the new merchant class- neither old blood nor precisly commoner, he made a good living ferrying goods too and fro along the Old Svalich road. As a babe I spent most of my time on a Caravan with him, riding in his lap as he drove the lead Vardo acrossed the country. Despite the fact I spent most of my life in a transient existance, we enjoyed luxury most outside of the Boyar class never experianced. I was taught to read and write, and we had meat most every night. The secret to my fathers success was a singleminded, dogged persistance- when he had given his word to get a cargo somewhere he would come in on time or early, and not even Iadul could stand in his way. I grew up idolizing him for his singlemindedness and business accumen- no one was a better buisnessman then my Father in my very young opinion. When I was 12 I started to learn rudimentary fighting skills from the guards that frequently accompanied us- simple weapons use, how to wear strip and store armor, and other basic skills. I was an athletic lad and took a liking to the craft, though I was not as strong or thickly built as some, I still hoped to serve as a guard for my fathers Caravaneering business.
My fathers success came as a double edged sword. He earned a reputation for being fast and efficient, so when I was 15 he was comissioned for what seemed at first a very simple task- he was to deliver immediatly, a package. What complicated matters was this package was to be delivered to the gates of Castle Ravenloft. It was a rushed delivery, so we set out that very afternoon, racing against the dying of the light in just one wagon with just the family alongside us and a trusted bodyguard. It was a terrifying ride, travelling acrossed rattling ancient bridge and narrow mountain passes at breakneck speed. Nor did our destination look particularly inviting- rising like a gloomy spike above the shroud of mists. Thank the dawn we arrived just before nightfall and delivered our package to the appointed place- a hunched, balding man with a mad look in his eye greeted us in a freindly enough manner, payed us for our task and sent us on our way. I think it was the butler. Whoever it was, we all took a draught of Vistani potion and watered the horses with it, then raced to escape the shroud of death-fog that circles that abominable place.
The sun had already gone down by the time we escaped the shroud of fog. No sooner had we gone through then the horses panicked and very nearly threw us off the mountain, then took off on their ow. A knot of what looked like eight men were racing down a slope towards us. We hurriedly armed ourselves and called for them to identify themselves. Only when they reached the light of our torches did we realize they were not men at all- they were the dead alive once more, rotten taught features and sharp teeth and claws- Ghouls. They fell on us in a fury, and we fought as well as we could but the party and my family was swiftly torn apart and devoured before my eyes- I myself was bitten and mauled, chunks off my flesh torn out. It seemed my time had come, when I heard a voice rising in fury, and a pillar of white light hit the ground amidst us, smashing the creatures into the ground. I was dazed by the concussion and could not move, only watch as a figure clad in plain leathers and a cloak screamed rebukements at the undead and incinterated them with beams of holy light from his hands. He strode over me and lifted me off the ground, murmuring prayers that mended my flesh and purified my blood. Looking grimly over the seen, he spoke another prayer and brought down upon it a pillar of cleansing fire, incinerating all the bodies and the shattered remains of the carriage. He stared down at me, shoulder length grey hair tied back in a ponytail and a trimmed Salt and pepper beard, and spoke to me in the queerest accent i'd ever heard- "Vell boy, lets drag hyour carcass back to zhe village before more come"
---
The Lightcarrier, who had been very silent and pale thus far at the story, suddenly blurted out, "Father Bach!". Cosmin blinked and twisted his mustache, and nodded saying "Yes, I later learned this man who saved me was Father Bach- though I've not seen him since. I've tried to find him once or twice before, but the man moves around too much even for me. Perhaps someday, eh? But let me countinue."
---
I blacked out and Bach carried me back to the sanctuary in the Village of Barovia. Though I was inheritor of my families assets they were all tied up- I had nothing. The temple took me in. I was amazed by the daring of my rescue, however accidental, as was I also amazed by how little reproach I recieved from the predominatly Gundarakite congregation. Though our peoples were traditional and current enemies, and there was some tension, I was accepted and left alone. It astounded me enough to investiage further, and then I truly looked I found more then just the soft spoking idealistic foolishness most Barovians think the Morninglord represents- I saw mercy and kindness, and a willingness to act and sacrifice the self. I was a very impressed young man, and when my inheritance finally came to me I donated it to the faith and joined the church.
A natural wanderer, i've been wandering Barovia ever since, doing this and that. Perhaps I will stay here for a time. Who can say.
---
Cosmin grinned at the Lightcarrier. "Thats my story freind. It sounds a little outlandish, but then, so is a Barovian wearing the Rose and smiling and joking with Gundarakites, da?"
