dicecharmer

[dicecharmer]

Episode Four

The scene outside the windmill was tranquil.  Azgard stood watch with Ismark and Ireena. A raven eyed them curiously, but they paid it no mind. Without warning the windmill door burst open and Ifor stumbled out.  Ireena said something. Ifor didn’t hear the words--only the sound.  He took this opportunity to make his own sound by muttering sinister words and flinging lightning from his fingertips back towards the hags inside the silenced windmill.

The scene inside was chaos. Azgard wasted no time launching himself right into it.  His charge brought his greatsword slashing down through Morgantha. Everyone saw the glint of the silvered edges of the huge blade before it sliced clean leaving a large gash in the hag’s flesh.  The hag slumped against a large barrel near the center of the room.  She rapped on the rim with her murderous claw, and the green ichor inside began to boil and emit a putrid glow.  Two hands reached out of the ichor, and a dretch pulled itself from the barrel and into the fray.

The fight inside the cramped windmill was as much a chess match of positioning and protection as it was a brawl. Bruize took his first opportunity to escape up the stairs to the second floor.  He would have gone further, but Offalia caught him. Distracted, Bruize lost his concentration maintaining the silence. Generally personable, Liran eagerly practiced his caustic verbal magics again.  Hella feverishly laid into Morgantha with her axe but still her attacks seemed blunted.  Azgard tossed his great silvered blade to her.  Face burning, the half-orc kicked the hag to the floor and cleaved her through.  

“Your coven is broken. Your mother is dead. Leave us the children and go.” Bruize offered Offalia from a position of feigned superiority. The hag seemed to actually consider retreat before tearing into the monk with a barrage of magic missiles. Talia heard their struggle upstairs, and with great skill arced her thorn whip up the curving stairs where it seized the hag’s ankle and forcibly tumbled her back to the first floor. Bleeding, Bruize continued to the third floor in search of the hag’s young captives.

Three dretches grumpily fought alongside their wicked masters now.  To prevent any further reinforcements Liran hoisted the now half-empty barrel above his head and poured the remaining sludge over Morgantha’s corpse. The party easily dispatched the minor demons while coordinating their attacks against the remaining Night Hags.  The hag daughters were losing passion with every blow. Then came a rude noise from the hag mother’s corpse, and a most rancorous gas cloud the color of the putrid green ichor filled the room.  Guards were lowered as the party’s lungs rejected the foul cloud. The hags revived their assault.

In the third floor closet Bruize found the stacked cages. Here too, small bones littered the floor. A boy and girl occupied two of the six locked cages. As he freed them, the girl observed Bruize with tremendous, bright eyes.  Bruize noted the stark comparison between her and the boy whose eyes were lifeless and expression dour.  “He’s always like that.  I think he must’ve been born that way. So many here are.”  The girl explained to the monk. Bruize took the children to the window. “Hold tightly.” he admonished as he flung open the shutters and regarded the ground three stories below.  After over a hundred years of training, one thing Bruize could do exceptionally well was fall.  He and his passengers came to the ground as slowly as leaf on a gentle breeze might have. The boy slumped to the ground and stayed for some time before picking himself up.  The girl nearly leaped from Bruize’s arm to turn to face him and say, “My name is Reka. I want you to know that I’m very pleased for you to have saved my life.”

As the noxious gas cloud dissipated, Bella Sunbane and Offalia Wormwiggle found themselves surrounded. The pain of wounds received set in for all combatants as they heaved for oxygen. Hella seized Bella by the throat and prepared to finish the hag. Hella’s grasp tightened, pressing into the trachea, but her hand closed on itself as Bella faded from this plane and disappeared. Seeing her sister’s retreat, Offalia decided to do the same before meeting her end, and both hags had completely vanished.  The party took a moment to breathe as Ifor picked exploded bits of dretch off himself.

“You’re safe now. Go to your home.” Bruize encouraged the liberated children. “Grown ups sold me for a pie.” Reka countered. “I assume his parents did the same. I’ll be coming with you.  I’m quite smart--you’ll see.  Not to mention, you very much need my help.”  Again she fixed her great eyes upon him.  If she was afraid of this elf whose tattooed face resembled a skull she did not let on.  In fact, the look she gave him showed understanding and empathy he could not remember encountering since his childhood a lifetime ago. Bruize conceded. “Stick with me, kid. You’ll be OK.”

The party did not have to search long to find the item foretold in Madam Eva’s tarot reading.  Sitting in a bird’s nest in the attic above the children’s cages was a powerful holy symbol.  The group passed it around before Azgard claimed it. That it was powerful there was no doubt.  What that power did, however, was a mystery. They left the windmill where children’s bones were ground to make pastries and returned to the Old Svalich Road.

Both the night and a storm were nearly fully arrived when the group spotted a carriage in the road.  It was facing them, headed south. As they neared it they recognized it as the carriage in which Vasili von Holtz left the vistani camp at Tser Pool. Then they saw von Holtz. They saw him crawling towards them--a trail of blood leading back to the carriage. He pleaded to the party, “help” and then he collapsed.

Liran approached the carriage. The driver’s hooded cloak was pulled over his eyes, but the bard could see the driver was grinning. Liran thought about his words to address the driver carefully, but in place of the words he found a voice. The voice was calling to him. No, the voice was screaming, and it wasn’t one voice--it was many. No, it was hundreds. The rest of the party saw Liran wince in pain and moved to him. When they approached the carriage they could hear the screams too. The driver took the four horse team to a trot, and the black iron carriage came up alongside the party.  The door opened, and those with darkvision could see a seated figure inside.  It spoke, “It is time. Come with me.”

Ireena’s feet began to carry her to the carriage. Hella was standing near and took Ireena by the arm. Restrained by the half-orc Ireena seemed more like a rebuked teenage lover now.  She turned on Hella, “Let me go!” but she could not break free from Hella’s grip. The voice came from the carriage again. It spoke with charisma, passion, and authority: “You have all been excellently entertaining, but now the games are completed. Give her to me! Give her to me, and I will let you leave this place.”

“Well. . .” Liran trailed off as he turned to consider his companions.

“Why do you want her?” Ifor demanded of the figure.  The response carried no doubt.

“Her soul belongs to me.”

“OK.”  Talia signaled Hella, and with practiced choreography Hella threw Ireena onto her teammate’s back just as the druid became a dire wolf. Talia was bounding north before most realized what had happened, but the carriage door immediately slammed shut and the reins were snapped.  Those standing closest to the carriage had to dive out of the way as it careened in pursuit of the women.

Azgard took a misty step and appeared in the driver’s seat to fight for control. Bruize snatched the carriage as it wheeled past him and clung to the back. A jolt almost made him lose his grip, but he deftly flipped upside down and climbed to the underside. Ifor also made a misty step towards the fleeing carriage and materialized next to the freshly displaced body of Azgard who was forcibly removed from the driver’s seat.  From underneath the carriage Bruize uncoupled the connection between carriage and horse team.  The driver let go the reins before being pulled from the seat by the free horse team.

Hella called to the horses with her beast sense. “Help us.” The nearest horse looked to its neighbor who seemed to scoff. “Lady, you’re crazy.” Hella could not reach the horses before the driver mounted one and sent the others off into the night. Rather than follow Ireena’s flight north however, the hooded rider cut through the party to flee eastward. Again, Bruize caught a ride. He attempted to immobilize the horse with a stunning strike, but the screams--hundreds of screams assaulted him. The first scimitar strike went wide as the horse abruptly leaped a ditch. Bruize forced himself through the psychic pain to sense and dodge the second scimitar stroke. The third scimitar blow brought the pommel nearly through his skull, and the elf went rolling in the dirt as the hooded figure galloped off into the storm.

Liran whispered a spell to superheat the metal of the carriage.  It glowed red hot in the pouring rain and steamed from every surface.  As it cooled the party exchanged uneasy looks.  Ismark swore and began to march toward the carriage door, blade in hand. He was stopped by Azgard who put out his hand to assume responsibility.  Bruize came running up and only slowed for Reka to take his hand and swing onto his back before running off after Talia. The others let them go as they formed ranks behind Azgard and approached the carriage. The dragonborn seemed ready to slice the carriage open, but then only rapped his fist on the door to knock.

Miles away, the dire wolf, Talia, was still bounding northward. Ireena was screaming, furious with her kidnapper.  She brought her rapier up to plunge it through Talia’s wolf flesh, but just as she tightened to make the lethal blow a rough patch of terrain knocked the sword from her hands and she nearly fell from the wolf. Talia growled ferociously as Ireena prepared another blow. She brought her fists down pounding on the wolf’s back. One after the other Ireena pummeled her hero. Slowly her strikes changed and came not from anger but from defeat and regret.  Now Ireena gripped the dire wolf fur tightly as she wept. She sobbed, and Talia kept running toward the lights of Vallaki.

No response came from the knock on the carriage door. Not far away the blood trail in the road lead to Valisi von Holtz’s body. Blinding lightning struck close by, and the thunder shook the carriage as Azgard moved to put his hand on the knob. He opened the door and stepped inside. The carriage was empty.

[dicecharmer]

Episode Three

Fearful of  the dark, the party lingered at the vistani camp in hopes of staying the night with the gypsies.  A bonfire was started as the gloomy haze darkened to night.  Vistani took turns telling jokes and stories.  When a young girl rose and poised herself to recite a few of the men gave elbows and shushes to quiet the group.  The girl spoke without heart as if struggling to correctly recall every detail:

“We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten--a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads.

“One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn’t say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn’t give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves.”

“This man of royal blood fought to protects us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said, ‘I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.’”

The girl’s recital was met with great applause. The group turned quickly to the next portion of their nightly revelry: dancing. During a lull in the party, Liran recounted the horrors he endured in the Death House as a ballad.  Some vistani listened politely, but his performance wasn’t very good. The little girl who had recited earlier however, was enraptured.

The party bunked down for the night in the camp. Talia and Bruize (both elves who do not need sleep) took positions in the woods next to camp.  The party woke to vistani milling around camp. Liran, woke to the small girl who recited staring at him inches from his face.  He asked her about Vallaki and was told about the “weird parties” they’re always having and how the people of Vallaki don’t care for the vistani.  The girl’s father, Korgo, a fisherman told them lake Zarovich just north of Vallaki was no longer suitable for fishing.

Ireena urged the group to depart.  They made their way south back to the crossing and the gallows. Again there was no body hanging.  Bruize made his feelings clear by breaking the gallows in half with a well placed blow, and the group continued on.  The Old Svalich Road climbed into the mountains and headed north.  

After a few hours walk the group came upon a figure stumbling across the road. At distance he appeared to be a knight.  Bruize and Talia took flanking positions hiding themselves in the wood.  Liran called out and startled the figure. As the party approached they noticed he seemed tense and on edge. They also noticed he looked undead.  Liran introduced the party as enemies of Strahd and the revenant, Straczynski, relaxed some.  He encouraged the party to skip Vallaki and go straight to Argynvostholt.  When Azgard heard that name he saw a great silver dragon--fearsome, powerful, and overwhelmingly good.  Refusing Straczynski’s advice, the party continued on towards Vallaki.  

The road came to a great stone bridge over a waterfall coming down from the mountain.  Nearly a thousand feet below and to the east was the vistani camp at Tser Pool. Further ahead the road split again.  Talia took shape as a bird and flew to survey their options.  To the east lay a fearsome castle; to the west she saw another great set of gates identical to those they entered through upon arriving at Barovia.  Again the gates opened for the party and shut behind them.

By the time the party could see a walled city near a lake in the distance the Old Svalich Road came to another branching path. The path leading off headed to an old windmill on a plateau to the west.  As the party approached they could see the dream pastries cart parked outside “Kidnapping children and taking them to creepy windmills? Oh, this lady is going down.” Talia informed her partners.

A raven in a tree was flapping and cawing wildly.  It seemed it was trying to warn the party.  The group had noticed ravens watching them since they arrived.  Talia again took the shape of a raven and flew up to the branch to speak with the bird. He was surprised to see her do this, but warned her against entering the windmill because of the terrible creatures who live there. Undeterred, Bruize and Ifor entered the windmill.  There was, after all, important treasure to be found here if Madam Eva was to be believed. “This card tells of a powerful force for good and protection, a holy symbol of great hope.” This second card she turned was The Charlatan. “I see a lonely mill on a precipice. The treasure lies within.”

Laughter and footsteps could be heard from upstairs. After a quick look around Bruize investigated a cabinet and collected several bottled liquids inside marked “Youth”, “Laughter”, and “Mother’s Milk.”  Ifor stepped on some of the many small bones littered across the floor.  From upstairs he heard, “Oh, just a minute--I’ll be right down!”  The rest of the party sans Ismark, Ireena, and Azgard entered the small cluttered room as Morgantha bustled down the steps exclaiming how wonderful it was they had come to buy some pastries.  Talia was accusatory of Morgantha from the outset.  Liran tried to smooth things by giving Morgantha a chance to out herself.  He tried to persuade her to divulge the ingredients of the dream pastries.  “Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that” she began as she went to retrieve a fresh pastry from the oven, “and, of course, my secret ingredient. . .” she held the pie to Liran’s nostrils letting him breathe the powerful aroma deeply.  Talia had had enough and screamed as she blasted Morgantha in the face with a fistful of poison gas.

The party readied themselves as the hunched over old woman transformed before them.  Morgantha the Night Hag rushed Talia and took her throat with her needle-sharp claws.  Morgantha’s daughters, Bella Sunbane and Offalia Wormwiggle joined the battle from upstairs.  “How’s it going in there?” Ismark called from outside. He got no answer though, because Bruize had magically silenced the entire room to prevent the coven’s powerful magic. Liran sent Morgantha climbing to the top of the chicken coup in fear with dissonant whispers. Talia superheated the metal grate on the coup to not only burn Morgantha but fry the chickens inside as well.  No sound could be heard, but the smell of fried chicken was strong.

Each blow seemed to be blunted against the hags--both magical and weapon attacks. More than once Hella landed a blow that would have halved a normal man.  The hags were growing desperate and clumsy without their magic.  They began to focus their attacks on the monk who had taken it from them.

[dicecharmer]

Episode Two

If Barovia was hiding any joy it was certainly not to be found in the tavern.  Three colorfully dressed women seated at a table near the entrance observed the group as they entered.  Liran strode to the counter and placing a single gold piece down with his finger, ordered a glass of wine for himself.  The party looked on in astonishment at the apparent generosity of the bard in light of his lack of thought for them. Despite pocketing the gold (surely enough for a thousand glasses of wine), Arik the barkeep was bewilderingly tight lipped.

The three Vistani women were more garrulous. “Dragon, who are your friends?” they inquired of Azgard whom they recognized. He dismissed the vistani and headed to the bar for a drink of his own.  The others engaged the women and learned more of the land.  The vistani are travelers of the roads who come and go as they please.  While they are all given to their own opinions, most vistani do not fear (as all Barovians do) the castle Ravenloft nor the “Devil, Strahd” who dwells within as he has traditionally been good to their people. Alenka, Mirabel, and Sorvia encouraged the newcomers to Barovia to visit Madam Eva to have their fortunes read. They explained that she has great abilities, and the party must visit Tser Pool to see her.

A man sitting in the corner beckoned the party away from their conversation with the vistani.  Like the women he was far less dour than most Barovians the party had met so far. He introduced himself as Ismark the Lesser, or, Ismark Kolyanovich, the son of the burgomaster, Kolyan Indirovich. Ismark had need of a team of powerful adventurers to escort his adopted sister, Ireena Kolyana, out of Strahd’s fearsome reach.  Recognizing Kolyan’s name from the letter they were given Liran, Hella, Talia, and Ifor inquired with Ismark about the distress.  Ismark inspected the letter they were given and revealed they had been mislead. This was not his father’s handwriting.  Bruize and Azgard explained their employment to Ismark. The courier Vasili von Holtz hired them to protect carried a similar letter authentically penned by the burgomaster. The letter was meant to be placed outside the gates to Barovia as a warning to all travelers not to enter.  It pleaded for no one to enter and forfeit their life. Ismark could see the party was confused.  He explained that the fog and mist create an impenetrable barrier around the valley--the party was trapped.

Back to Ireena’s plight: Ismark told the party of the devil, Strahd’s fascination with his sister.  Twice Strahd, a vampire--the vampire--had bitten his sister. While vampires are not able to enter residences without an invitation, Strahd has powerful abilities to charm and dominate others.  Ismark wished, with the party’s help as escort, to move Ireena to the town of Vallaki.  He had heard that Vallaki is well fortified and out of Strahd’s reach (not sitting 1,000 feet below the dread castle as the Village of Barovia was).  The party was begrudging, and it took great convincing, but finally they agreed to help Ismark and Ireena.

They followed Ismark to the burgomaster’s mansion and found the exterior heavily mangled by claws and fangs. Every window was boarded, and the grass around the perimeter of the house was matted down and muddied by footprints.  Inside they met Ireena, a fireball of a woman, and were shown the burgomaster, Kolyan Indirovich, dead in a handmade coffin on the floor. The siblings recounted the nightly attacks the mansion had endured for months now. Three nights previous, the burgomaster’s heart gave out.  Tactless, Liran pressed the new “burger-master” Ismark for a taste of his grilling abilities at supper.  Ismark’s burgers did not disappoint.

Ireena refused to travel until her father had been buried in the cemetery at the church on the north side of town.  It was agreed upon to perform the burial in the morning before setting out for Vallaki. The party were given two rooms to retire to for the night, but all were uneasy about Kolyan’s body in the open casket.  This talk of vampires was not lost on them.  A watch was set, and the night passed without violence. Ifor was woken by an eerie green light seeping into the room from the cracks around the boarded window.  He cast a darkness spell and went back to sleep.

The party set off the next morning to bury the late burgomaster.  Hella more or less carried the coffin herself with the men running behind attempting to keep a hand on it.  They entered the church before going straight to the cemetery.  It was in great disarray, and the priest, Donovich, was in quite a state.  His incessant chanting prayers were punctuated by muffled cries from the basement, “Help me, Father! Please, I’m so hungry!”  A plan was set: burial first, then deal with the screaming. Without Donovich officiating the burial was quick.  Bruize, having spent a week or two in Barovia already, skipped the burial in favor of leaning against the church doors and fashioning a wooden stake from a broken pew leg.

Inside the church again the party made a quick search for tools before heading into the basement.  Still, the cries startled them: “Please help! I’m starving!!” Hella retrieved a few candlesticks for her supply.  Liran and Bruize came upon a pitiful library and collected books for themselves.  Liran stole Hymns to the Dawn, a volume of chants to the Morninglord; Bruize, The Blade of Truth: The Uses of Logic in the War Against Diabolist Heresies, as Fought by the Ulmist Inquisition, a strange book the mixes logic exercises with lurid descriptions of fiend-worshipping cults.

Ismark remained above. Hella positioned herself at the base of the stairs.  The others slowly approached the now quiet figure cowering in the far corner of the basement.  The low ceiling and church above was held up by wooden columns in a ten foot grid. “I can smell your blood.” The cowering figure threatened. Talia cast an illusion on herself to make the vampire spawn see her as Strahd. She demanded, as Strahd, answers from the boy-spawn. “No! I’m so hungry! You’re not him--I can smell your blood!” As the party moved closer the spawn edged to the left. Ifor moved to cut him off, and that is when the boy made his move.  He went straight for Ifor then continued on to Hella’s position. He flew to the ceiling and made for the stairs, but upon seeing the blinding sunlight turned and flung himself on Hella instead.  Hella defended herself without suffering a bite wound.  Bruize hurriedly employed his new stake in stabbing the vampire spawn’s heart.  He was stunned to find it still fighting. After some struggle Talia dispatched the spawn.

Donovich thanked the party for their work, “I have been constantly praying for deliverance. I did not expect it to come like this, but thank you nonetheless.” After hearing of Ismark’s plan Donovich encouraged them to not settle for Vallaki, but to convey Ireena further to the Abbey of Saint Markovia in Krezk, a bastion for good.

While heading back to the burgomaster’s mansion to collect Ireena, the team observed an old woman selling pastries door to door.  After a few houses and a couple pastries sold the woman arrived at a house where a man and woman took two pies. The party could not hear the exchange, but it ended with the old woman yanking the couple’s child from their hands and throwing him in a sack strapped to her cart.  The couple called after her crying.  Liran called the woman and inquired about her actions. She claimed she was selling dream pastries for one gold piece each.  Curious, and beguiled by the delightful, savory smell, Liran purchased a pastry to try.  After a couple bites he offered it to the others to taste.  Hella and Ifor each had a small bite before handing the pie back to Liran who finished it quickly.  The effect of eating most of the pie was immediate, and Liran slipped into a trance.  In his mind he was in paradise.  The others stared on at his frozen figure still holding his hand near his mouth enraptured by the pastry.

Talia noticed the old woman pushing her cart away down the street. Talia flung a well rehearsed thorn whip that wrapped around one cart handle and wrested it from the old woman nearly knocking her over. Some dream pastries fell into the street and the woman busied herself collecting them and righting her cart. While she was distracted, Bruize stealthily collected the “sack child” and returned him to the parents.  He only took their remaining pie as payment.  Ifor placed the pie onto Liran’s hand, but Bruize did not approve. He flung the pie with surprising dexterity down the street and into a lamp post where half of it remained as if embedded in the post. The old woman made her exit.

Donovich met the party in the street.  “I owe you an explanation for your trouble.”  He told the party of a wizard who came through Barovia a few months ago and rallied quite a following to depose the vampire Strahd. Donovich did not know what became of the wizard, and assumed most of his militia destroyed. His son, Doru, however, returned to him as the monster the party dispatched.  Donovich thanked the party for not allowing Strahd to fully break him.  Hella asked if Donovich possibly knew how to help the still entranced Liran.  Donovich inspected Liran before finally giving the bard a strong slap across the face.  Liran fully returned to the group, but immediately felt a longing to return to the paradise given to him by the dream pastry.

By the time the party returned to the mansion Ireena was beside herself with impatience.  They all set off again westward on the Old Svalich Road.  The road turned southwest and bridged the river before coming to a crossroads where a single gallows stood by a small cemetery.  The signpost indicated BAROVIA VILLAGE to the east, TSER POOL to the northwest, and RAVENLOFT/VALLAKI to the southwest.  Ismark was anxious to make further progress, but the party remembered the encouragement to visit Madam Eva at the Tser Pool and headed northwest.  As they passed the cemetery the party heard a creaking from the gallows.  They turned to see a corpse hanging from it where none had been before.  The wind turned the corpse to face them.  It appeared to all but Bruize as an unrecognizable figure.  Bruize very clearly saw himself.

The party found a vistani camp at Tser Pool.  Five colorful tents were pitched outside a ring of four barrel-topped wagons.  Inside the ring of wagons was an unlit fire circle with vistani gathered around telling tales and sharing drinks.  As the party lingered near the campfire a vistani addressed them all, perhaps for the party’s benefit, but it was unclear.

“A mighty wizard came to this land over a year ago. I remember him like it was yesterday. He stood exactly where you’re standing. A very charismatic man, he was. He thought he could rally the people of Barovia against the devil Strahd. He stirred them with thoughts of revolt and borethem to the castle en masse.

“When the vampire appeared, the wizard’s peasant army fled in terror. A few stood their ground and were never seen again.

“The wizard and the vampire cast spells at each other. Their battle flew from the courtyards of Ravenloft to a precipice overlooking the falls. I saw the battle with my own eyes. Thunder shook the mountainside, and great rocks tumbled down upon the wizard, yet by his magic he survived. Lightning from the heavens struck the wizard, and again he stood his ground. But when the devil Strahd fell upon him, the wizard’s magic couldn’t save him. I saw him thrown a thousand feet to his death. I climbed down to the river to search for the wizard’s body, to see if, you know, he had anything of value, but the River Ivlis had already spirited him away.”

The party listened patiently to the story and remained by the circle a moment before entering Madam Eva’s tent. As they broke to approach the tent, however, Vasili von Holtz emerged and greeted them.  He understood the looks Azgard and Bruize gave him to know that the mission had failed.  He gave each of them a pouch of 25 gold pieces for their trouble, but not before making slights of their abilities as warriors and escorts.  Von Holtz left in his large black iron carriage which he pointed out to the party was insufficient to carry them all to their destination otherwise he would offer them that hospitality.

Madam Eva welcomed the party individually by name when they entered her tent.  She welcomed Hella, Liran, and Talia back to the land of Barovia.  She inspected Ifor’s spellcasting focus orb and noted how sad it was that it was empty.  She chided Bruize and Azgard for taking so long to come see her.  Eva performed a tarot reading for the party which pointed to powerful artifacts that would help them in their quest: a source of knowledge of their enemy, a powerful holy symbol of hope, and a sword of sunlight.  Another card indicated an ally to the party. A final card: the location of their confrontation with the enemy.

[dicecharmer]

Episode One

In a village near the end of their stint as caravan guards Liran Mandel, Hellava Vharga'tanu, and Talia Amastacia were spending a dreary evening in a tavern. A colorfully dressed man entered, surveyed the room, and dragged a seated Ifor Van Myrkr to their table. The stranger presented a sealed letter to the four and pleaded for their assistance in the village of Barovia.  After securing a promise of help the stranger rode off into the night alone.

At morning light the four began their journey west along the Old Svalich Road. Morning sun slowly traded for obscuring haze, and a thick fog flanked the party without their notice. The first event of note was the discovery of a corpse near the road. It was mangled and torn by claws and fangs.  Some distance later the party discovered a bundle of clothes. Hella was content to claim the plain clothes as her own and stuff them into her bag without question of ownership or purpose.

After a few hours march the four came upon the gates of Barovia.  Statues of armored knights many stories tall flanked the gates. Neither statue was still in possession of its head. Each lay near on either side of the road. The huge doors parted for them and closed behind them although no person seemed to control the gate or watch the road. Liran made sure to pat the decapitated heads as he passed by.

Not long after passing through the gates the party spotted a knight retreating into the road from a dire wolf in the woods. Eager for action, the four sprang to the knight’s defense, but found it was more than just the one aggressor.  Two dire wolves and a pack of wolves drew blood but were dispatched by Liran, Hella, Talia, the paladin Azgard, and his partner Bruize Lee.  Bruize and Azgard had been hired by the nobleman Vasili von Holtz to escort a courier with a letter from the burgomaster of Barovia.  The courier did not survive the wolves’ assault, and Azgard pocketed his sealed message.

Now six, the group agreed to continue on to the Village of Barovia.  Miles later the woods gave way from the road and all could see now the valley they had entered between two snow-capped mountains.  To the south a river ran parallel to the Old Svalich Road.  Ahead, to the west, was the village.

Familiarity came to Liran, Hella, and Talia as they walked the cobblestone streets of Barovia.  They had been here before in a nightmare.  Lured by two children into a death house the three had seen many horrors.  After laying to rest the spirits of the children who lured them to the house the three were pressed for a blood sacrifice by a ghostly cult.  The team refused, and the house itself attempted to claim their lives.  After escaping the burning wreckage of the house the three were confronted by a charismatic figure who claimed responsibility for bringing them to this place.  The figure promised if they ever returned it would be because he willed it.

Yet now the house was as solid as when they first entered it with no signs of destruction.  The streets were quiet except for incessant mournful cries sloughed off from the mist.  Following the wailing the party came to the main intersection of Barovia.  Before investigating the crying the team stopped into the general store.  A moderate selection of adventuring gear was available, but at exorbitant prices.  The shopkeep noticed Bruize casing the store and summoned a muscle-bound boy from the back. Taking the hint, the party left the shop and followed the crying to a house only a few doors down.  After climbing the front of the house Bruize could see into a young girl’s room where a woman was crouched on the floor crying.  The party entered the house and attempted to comfort the woman. She was holding a doll.  Ifor and Liran were able to gather that her daughter was gone, but not much else.

The party headed for the tavern.