#my dm plays strahd so well it makes me want to rip into him like paper

[probablyvampirerpgideas]

my dhampir character told strahd to kill himself today with zero consequence how are yall doing today

[spoopysammymoose]

So... my tiefling character is deciding to act out like a teenager, since she never really had the chance growing up...

DM: The chapel seems to still be a wreck, rubble is strewn about and the pillars still show damage from Argynvost's assault. But the stained glass has been replaced and repaired. On it a stunning depiction of Tatanya ascending into the sky. Sergei is there but an ugly smear of red obscures his image, the red runs down to the frame. In the distance Ithil can hear the sound of an organ.

Ithil: In the back of her mind, Ithil wonders who would have had this made, as she was sure Strahd would not have had Sergei included at all. She looks for a moment at the image of Tatanya with a smile, glad that she really was gone from this place. Ithil continues on, heading towards the sound of the organ.

DM: The organ music gets louder as she wanders down the main corridor leading to the front door. The music seems to flow from an open door to the left, a decayed dining hall last you knew. The music is somber but fast, like a melancholy waltz.

Ithil: She continues to head towards the sound, having not heard this sort of music before. It was.... sad... but deep and beautiful.

DM: You walk past the main junction without incident, the grand stair case lies empty and the front door is closed tight. You stand before the room with the music, the doors closed. You can smell the sickening mix of delicious food, rot, and dust.

Ithil: Ithil goes towards the doors, pausing with her hand near the handle for a moment before opening it. She opens it slowly, not wanting to disturb the sanctity of the playing.

DM: The music washes over you, making you feel almost warm. But that warmth is quickly replaced by a chill of fear as your eyes unwrap the scene before you. The table is set for a small dinner, five figures sit at the table in various states of decay, their dinner rotting before them. The candles of the table are brightly lit, illuminating their demise. One was speared by an arrow through the eye. Another seems to have had their heart ripped out. A third lies face first in a bowl. A forth lies chained to their chair, their whole figure wilted and thin. and a fifth still struggles in their chair. Iron straps bind him to the chair. At the head of the table a figure sits with his back to you, his black cape hiding much of his figure. He plays the organ with vigor, pouring his whole body into the music. The music ends with a flourish of his hands, leaving you in deafening silence. For a moment, all is still, then with a sweep of his cape he stands and turns to you. His face contorted in fury. Strahd Von Zarovich.

Ithil: Having been noticed, she feels her mouth break into a nervous grin and she fully enters the room, looking around at the gore. "Love what you've done with the place..."

DM: His face seems to calm a bit, and he silently walks to his bound prisoner, placing his hands on the vampire's shoulders. "Much has changed about this place, but it seems your meddling has not, Ithil." "My servants lie dead and a soon to be bride has gone missing, I can only assume your hand was the cause of this." You notice despite his calm voice and inviting expression, his nails dig deep into the vampires shoulders.

Ithil: Her smile brightens and she begins to shrug off her layers of cloaks onto a nearby chair. She gives a bit of a shrug and finds a bit of the table to lean on. "Ah, it seems you do know my name afterall. We never really talked the last time that I was here." She studied the wall a bit. "At that time though I'll admit I was quite a bit weaker and stupid... well, you could say I'm stupid for being where I am right now after what I've done but.... I don't regret it." Ithil's eyes wander over to the organ. "You play beautifully, that was something I did not know."

DM: Strahd: "I make a point of learning all about those that have killed me. As for your intelligence I can only assume you're cunning, at best, an imbecile at worst. Whether luck or skill has influenced your deeds, only time will tell." He glances at the discarded cloaks with a disinterested gaze. "The music is something I have been working on for years now, a tribute to Tatanya. But I fear it will never be perfect."

Ithil: Her eyebrow raises at that. "Music will never be perfect, as nothing ever is, but we take things as they are and enjoy them while we can. So... you really did love her." She pauses for a heavy moment. "I don't blame you for that, I was even moved when her soul appeared. She was beautiful and gentle... I wish I had known her. We knew Ireena but... she was definitely different."

DM: "She, WAS perfect. The music, and Ireena were only a pale reflection. As well as Marina, Vela, and the rest." He releases the vampires shoulders, leaving deep claw marks. "She was mine, and mine alone. And you took her from me; for that I will destroy you piece by piece." He looks up at you, anger deep in his eyes. "But you know that, so why are you here? Have you given up all hope of escape this time? Surely you would at least put up a fight."

Ithil: She hisses, her own claws digging into the table and her eyes snapping over to him. "Don't think me a coward or a lunatic! For those I am neither. You would be gravely mistaken if you think I am not holding back fear or a desire to start firing off my spells. Those are natural impulses and I could definitely entertain you with a fight if you wanted. But I am not here for that." She takes the Staff of Power and throws it next to her cloaks. "Fighting you on my own would be an instant death, though apparently many of your servants were not so much of a challenge." Ithil actually laughs out loud. "The one in the dungeons mocking the wizard with the one he had killed, he was already seized by the prisoner by the time I showed up and I stood right in the open. He didn't even see me there." She steps away from the table and crosses her arms, a snarl still on her face. "My original plans were only to help my party's friend when I came here, however I got tripped up on how many innocents had already been captured by this place. If I let them be, then I likely would face elimination by my own allies." Her eyes close for a brief moment and she attempts to relax herself. "Sometimes I hate the part of me that is a demon, usually its whispers don't take hold of me so readily but this time it has. My first time being trapped here broke a major part of my teachings though I shouldn't be so surprised. I didn't have the best Master. The scars on my back are proof enough of that." Her blank eyes open once again. "But that doesn't matter, what matters to me is that because of this place, my beliefs on vampires and the undead are confused. I should hate them, but I don't. My confusion keeps leading me here."

DM: Strahd puts a hand to his chin, pondering. He slowly begins to circle the table. "So, here you stand. Weapons discarded but my servants humiliated and my play things escaped. Your teachings muddled and your curiosity... " Strahd picks up a rotten apple. "... Ravenous." Strahd lets the apple tip out of his hand, it hits the ground with a sour squish. "It is strange that Exethanther cannot quench your confusion, instead you have sought out me... your captor, your lord, your undoing. If I were a less patient man I would be satisfied with snapping your neck here and now, or even turning you, finally becoming a monster so much of the world thinks your kind was born to be. Perhaps that's what you desire..."

Ithil: Instead of revealing any form of fear or distaste, her lips curled upwards in a devilish grin. "Ah but just simply killing me now would be.... so boring." Absentmindedly, she approached the table again and began to flick something on one of the corpses. "I have sought Exethanther near three times now. The dark gods have their appeals but... even some my other half finds horrific. We recently have slain a broken man there whom had accepted every gift the gods put forth. His mind was lost, it's not something I desire. His own profession lies in necromancy, and while he amuses me, I understand him. It's the vampires I can't figure out. Escher seeming to have been completely bound to you and now out there with that other group, also being led by our lost companion." She smirks. "And to think my group hated her so for practically doing what I am now."

DM: "She was a fool, then and now. Kept safe solely by means beyond even me. Escher... " His lips curl in disgust. "A coward seeking only the lavish things he desired in life. He will rot in a prison of his own making, I will see to that." He waves his hand away, dismissing the thought, Strahd sets his eyes on Ithil gesturing at her with his outstretched hand. "Ironic that you, of all people think vampires difficult to understand while you stand defenseless before me. I struggle to understand your intentions Ithil, you argue against lunacy yet I can assure you that you will not leave my castle alive." He circles closer, lifting up the dead figure in the bowl for effect. He drops the head, its impact shattering the bowl. "Killing you outright would be terribly boring and a disgrace for how much strife you have caused me... perhaps I should have you brought before your allies and kill you there."

Ithil: She watches him, her eyes bored. "I have no intentions of fleeing either, for I know what happened last time, even though I am uncertain if Bucephalus has indeed returned to you." Her head tilts onto her shoulder, "I'd apologize for some of my previous discretions except I desired a bit of revenge. I did not have many blows against you in that final battle and I must say I carried quite a bit of anger for my last moments almost being a fish.... flying through the air." Ithil's expression becomes unamused for a moment before she shakes her head and brushes it away. "I'm willing to trade.... some information in return for some answers. Whatever you decide to do to me afterwards.... or before...." she sighs sadly, "I honestly do not care what happens to me. But I have to warn you... do not underestimate my allies." Her gaze is steady. "I spent all of last night in one of the north towers, undisturbed and left to be well-rested. Security could be... better here." Ithil holds back a small giggle. "Afterall I guess my presence here and my activities over the last day have shown some obvious weaknesses here. I don't want to be so bored."

DM: Strahd laughs. "Your life in return for an... interview? I must say I am surprised, but this has held my interest. As for the castle, most dare not venture here and those that do often have my invitation." He has finally circled around to Ithil, standing between her equipment and her. "I will tell you all you want to know Ithil and perhaps you might do a better job at defending my castle from intruders..." His eyes seem to spark, inviting you in. Give me a wisdom saving throw.

Ithil: 11

DM: The eyes fill you with peace and you feel yourself relax next to him. Strahd smirks and turns away and takes a seat at the head of the table. He steeples his fingers and looks at Ithil. "Ask me whatever you desire, Ithil."

Ithil: She blinks a couple of times, and feels inclined to walk towards him. One of her feet takes a step. "My questions may make no sense to you or any who hear them but they will satisfy my own curiosity and that is fine with me." Her bright eyes find his dark ones once again. "The soul of the one you chased. You loved her, truly, I can see that and my words mean no offense. I must ask, over the hundreds of years, did you ever try anything different from just making her one of the undead?"

DM: Strahd stares at you, his expression unreadable as he ponders the question. When he speaks it is with a grave seriousness. "I loved her truly. She could never accept me for what I am, not for the reasons that you might think. This land that is my prison and my kingdom... is against me. I attempted to court her when Berez was once prosperous... Patrina was her name then... dark hair that desperately wanted to curl but I could see the beauty within her." Strahd's gaze drifts upward, lost in the past. "The villagers feared me, so to did the Elves. I won her hand, true then, but it was not to be. The Dusk Elves, in their great wisdom, stoned her to death, to prevent me my prize I had strived so much for. They feared her a vampire." A flash of anger passes of Strahd's face "I tore their village from the earth, cursed every member, and left them to the snakes. For the Dusk Elves... they would never see a child again, as I'm sure your aware."

Ithil: Her expression remains blank except for her mouth momentarily popping open. "It's true of the curse... none of us were willing to listen before but the dark ones have been the actual source of this curse since the start. Feeding on misery and intervening to cause more of it." She almost laughed. "I see our fates were of being naïve. We deserved to be brought back here for our actions in haste." She shakes her head to stop herself from rambling on more about it, and puts a hand to her face. "Maybe things could have been different at one point, this much time having been passed if they didn't disturb the outcomes. When.... or did you actually become aware that the dark gods you made a pact with are continuing to feed off of your emotions?"

DM: Strahd gestures vaguely to the air. "I knew from the moment I became Vampyre, a stalker of the night. They are not without a sense of humor though, near the edges of Yester Hill, when the sun rises, my homeland can be seen in all its shimmering glory..." Strahd's voice becomes wistful, enjoying the sight of it in his mind. "But I know it cannot be... it lies so far away from Barovia yet its there. They must give me hope, or I am worthless to them. They are gleeful in their torment of me, I know that now."

Ithil: She cocks her head like a bird, curiosity spiking again. "Homeland? I believed Barovia to be that for you." A couple more thoughts came to mind. "And it seems they have given you a few more things to chase, with the hag and that soldier that I've heard have been causing problems."

DM: "No, I came to this land as a conqueror, dispelling my enemies as easily as I do now. Armies fell before my might and they fled to this place. After their slaughter I made it my home." Strahd cocks his head at mention of the hag and soldier. "I created them, dragged to Barovia through hubris and theft. Without strife, the Dark Powers would discard me." "A queen sent her armies to me, now they wallow in this land, slowly being whittled away, day by day, year by year."

Ithil: Ithil nods. "Her I met, angry woman, very rash. I didn't much care for her." She waved her hand, "Anyways she's not too important herself.... So the gods would discard you? How would that take place?"

DM: Strahd smiles. "I'm afraid that information is beyond even me. The gods are ever mysterious and cruel. For all I know they plot me another bride."

Ithil: She looks down at her hands. "I have no more to ask, I thought I was confused when in fact I was merely lacking very basic information in the first place." Her shoulders begin to shake, but when she looks up, she is just laughing with tears stinging at her eyes. "The world of people, of humans, I should have stayed well away from it. The jester gave me hope but he was just like the others, gone, whenever I needed him the most. 10 years of looking. I guess in perspective of time that's nothing. 10 years of trying to do good and I manage to continue to jump blindly into situations without weighing out all sides of them. Meant to hate you while we support Exethanther as he hunts down humans to use in his own projects. Killing a Beholder that was trying to run a government by controlling people but unleashing riots that may have killed more people than we tried to save. Last time I was here, I personally turned over the wizard that helped us during the battle to the lich..." Ithil's voice trails off. "I deserve this fate laid before me, this much I know and I accept it." Her face turns to him. "I think I know why I couldn't seem to leave this place." She wouldn't let her face betray it, but despite all that she said and all that her mind tried to scream at her, she felt bad for this monster in front of her, though perhaps it was merely a side-effect of the charm.

DM: The monster in front of her smiled, humored by Ithil's ramblings. He rises from his chair and begins to approach her, calm and confident. "You need not bother worrying about the past, the adventures you've had, the people who have suffered, it doesn't matter. This land is a land of trades, what you get you must sacrifice for. You have done so much for this world and its people. It's time to start doing things for yourself. " Strahd brushes the hair from Ithil's forhead, his hand trailing to her neck. "We are not monsters, simply those cursed to rise above the weak. I offer you that gift, to rise above, Ithil. Accept my lineage..."

Ithil: She felt her body burning, from embarrassment at the closeness of the vampire and anger at herself for all the thoughts that crossed her mind. Every ounce of sense left in her mind screamed at her to run, back away, just say no. But none of that was what bubbled to the surface. Ithil wanted an escape, even if it was mostly from herself. "Y....yes....." With those words she couldn't bear to look at him, she had fallen to exactly what he wanted.

DM: Strahd leans in close, his presence like ice. He can feel her heart beating faster as he pulls her closer into his embrace. The hold is gentle, for there is no escape now. He brushes the hair away from her neck, savoring the moment of victory. His fangs sink into Ithil's neck with ease and a faint tremble runs through her. Heat rises within Ithil as her blood is drained away, her senses fading. The room seems to spin, the rotting feast, the dead guests, the restrained vampire, all a blur. Darkness tinges her vision but before she faded she felt dripping on her lips, blood, from Strahd's wrist. He had stopped drinking and she had not even noticed. Her last image before her vision fades is Strahd's cold eyes and his smile, as blood runs down his mouth.