#myrtle curse of strahd

[dim20-stims]

8 for the ask game?

"One day, I'm gonna learn the power of the light, and then, I'm gonna kick every mean person's ass!"

x x x - x 🌟 x - x x x

8. What’s your favorite niche character from your current hyperfixation or special interest? - Myrtle, from the Curse of Strahd game I'm playing with friends.

I. Love. This. Silly. Little. Child. My favourite NPC of all time. On the off chance that my DM ever sees this, bestie you play a 10 year old child with too much energy SO WELL.

[stragglewort]

Tales of Barovia - “One-Offs in the Mist“

Picture from WarlordStrahd on World Anvil - copyright Wizards of the Coast

TW: Blood, fighting, burning, kidnapping

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“A Royal Visit in the Blue-Water Inn” -

     This was the result of our DM bringing a certain someone to our tavern room after a rousing day causing trouble in Vallaki. He, of course, left us off on a two-week cliffhanger - naturally I had to fill in the blanks. (Ardolf, in-fact, did not get kidnapped by Strahd at the end of this encounter. Strahd did, in-fact, leave through the window in a puff of mist.) 

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        Ardolf jumped for Irenea. Grabbing her shoulders and drawing her back with whatever sliver of strength he had in him. His hands flickered with a faint light blue – the color of wards – the magic shimmering from his fingertips like thread being pulled from the air. It was pitiful compared to his usual show, but his magic (what little he was practiced with to start) had been drained through the chaos of the day. It left just a light, fading glow that engulfed the woman before the color seeped from both the glimmer on his fingers and the tan of his face. Even in the darkness he had gone noticeably pale.

        That was the last of the magic he could conjure on his own; without the intervention of the divines he would need to rely on his shield and the others around him if the Devil decided to pull anything hostile.

        "You look ghostly, have you been eating well?" Strahd rose from the seat, taunting them, and the whole party shifted. He strode forward, walking with the confidence of a man who knew none could oppose him.

        Honestly? He was right.

        He grimaced at the ward, looking down at the woman who glared back with a fiery rage. If the magic held, he could hurt her – sure – but he couldn't charm her, couldn't scare her. Ardolf held solace in that idea since it took the rest of his wavering energy to keep the spell functional.

        "Doctor – Physician General – You do care quite so much about these people you've never met." Strahd ran a single sharp nail across the woman's cheek, moving slowly, taking care not to cut her. No one dared to move, but they watched, stunned –

        "Don't touch -" Ardolf started, but Zarovich continued.

        "…And the paladin, the Templar, here to spread the joy of your god to the dark reaches of a land who doesn't even know its name." Imposing on the Elvish woman he tapped gingerly against her shield, scraping the holy symbol etched in its body. "Lastly? You two." He almost chuckled, facing the thief and warlock. "We're a little more personal, you being here for my head." He stopped again, towering over them while the party tried in vain to stagger away. "Really, doctor. You should've saved your spells for yourself." His hand shot, first what looked to be towards Irenea before it shifted, like a crossbow bolt curved by the wind, and grabbed the doctor by his throat.

        Strahd was strong, terribly, horrifyingly strong –

        "Tell me, doctor. Could you spare the dying while bleeding out on the floor? Could you mend their wounds with your throat ripped out?" His voice lowered to an icy whisper, his hollow eyes meeting Ardolf’s before he broke out into mischievous, freezing laughter. "Oh, but you can't, can you? You finally rely on your magic and you're all used up – pity."

        Ardolf couldn’t tell if he gasped or the others – he tried to speak – but Strahd’s grip tightened. Even if there were still some semblance of magic in the man, he wasn’t going to let him drudge it up.

        “Alright!” Strahd hummed, stepping back faster than the party could comprehend to catch him. Ardolf’s feet dragged across the floor in the shift. “You’ve refused everything, and I’ve been very generous, so I will give all of you one last offering out of politeness.” He had a strange idea of politeness, punctuated as he raised the doctor off the ground – lifting him like a ragdoll. If Ardolf didn’t realize he was supposed to be the leverage in some horrible plan, he would’ve feared Strahd would break his neck then and there.

        They hesitated, Ardolf hesitated, and Strahd waited for the split second it took them to process his words –

        “Stop this, please, stop this.” Irenea cried; her voice shrill but hushed.

        “Oh, I will!” Strahd answered, near instantly. “You know exactly how to make me do what you want… you just haven’t done it.”

        “Go.” Ardolf struggled the word out before he could feel nails pierce into flesh of his neck. “You –“ He winced. “You know where to go.” Did they? Did they really? The answer was no, but Strahd didn’t need to know that.

         He lessened his grip on the man’s throat, just enough to let him speak. “And that would be…?”

        “Anywhere but here.“ If they weren’t seeing things, it almost looked like Ardolf had grinned. Though the look cleaned off his face as Strahd scratched further into his neck, drawing blood.

        “Is that your decision, truly?” He scanned the room; they’d drawn their weapons, but the majority wouldn’t move with their only healer like puddy in his hands. He turned to face the rogue who had broken from the group to take him by surprise – catching him right before their own desperately calculated attack. “If that’s your decision, then you forfeit my kindness. It’ll be a chase, then?”

        “No! We can –“ The Templar started, pushing through the group.  

        “Yes.” Ardolf interrupted. Strahd grinned, that fanged smile the last thing the party saw before, in seconds, they both disappeared into out the window and into the night faster than was even comprehensible. The room now two monsters less.

        Where the Devil planned to take their doctor in this horrible, unwitting game of cat and mouse they had no idea. But the gods knew damn-well they’d scour every inch of Barvoia if it meant getting him back.

_______________________________________________

 “Impromptu Rendezvous” or “My Assumed Worst-Case-Scenario” OR “Me Not Knowing Anything about Ravenloft but Writing it Anyway”

        This one was from the far start of the campaign - Ardolf had just been found out to be a lycanthrope, we were just starting to learn about what Strahd was and how he worked, and I’d just been told about Ravenloft. Not to mention we’d just saved the Freek and Myrtle from the Old Bonegrinder. Even though we had actually found a place to keep the children safe, our DM still found a way to put them in danger by the ending battle.

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         There wasn't any place to secure the children, because of this Ardolf and the rest of the party had instead decided against their better judgement and brought them along. They'd been wandering around the borders of Castle Ravenloft for days by that point, daring to stay in one spot lest The Devil catch them intruding. At first Ardolf didn’t mind the idea of facing Zarovich alone - at the worst, he hoped the monster would make the encounter quick. But they had children now - even living in Barovia hadn't corrupted them, and their presence, along with the camaraderie from the others had given the poor doctor a sense of normalcy he hadn't realized he had lost.

        He was afraid to lose it again.

        It had become routine: move camp, fight the undead that horded around the castle, and do whatever possible to keep the others healthy. It nagged that Strahd could be watching them - it was almost impossible that he hadn't noticed their presence being so close to his home, but Ardolf chose not to focus too sorely on the idea. It's hard, though, when the thing you try to Ignore grabs you by the neck. He'd been bandaging a scratch on one of the children's arms when something, unbeknownst to either Ardolf or the young boy, grappled his neck and trapped him in a hold as tight as an iron trap.

       "And here we are...” A sharp, cackling voice whispered. “Blood, like wine, gets better with time - wouldn't you agree, doctor?" The voice hissed into his face, a cackle hinting under the words while they spoke.

       All his fears of being caught came to the fold - gods, so many ideas passed his mind over what he could do; functional ones, things that might help you when staked at the neck by a demon. But the child was there, he couldn't risk getting the boy hurt. Strahd's breath, cold, boasted against Ardolf's skin - he was too afraid to move.

        It was then that a too-familiar clawing dug in his stomach.

        The child had never seen him turn - it was such a silly worry, but he couldn't let his fear put the boy in any more danger than he was now already in. "....Letting that worry, that horror seep into the blood for days; it's really quite a delicacy. You should try it." The monster got closer, if it wasn't for the razors against his neck assuring Ardolf he was still alive, he would've assumed his heart had stopped. It beat too fast for him to process. He knew he had few options that didn't lead to his own instantaneous death, submission or aggression - neither were things he wished Freek to see. Ardolf hesitated, his voice shaking against his breath as he struggled to take in air -

        "Please... Freek, look away." Ardolf hushed, pleading.

        He wasn’t sure, then, as he let the curse take over if the boy had the time to get away.

_______________________________________________

"I Wonder What It’ll be Like... Trying to Kill Strahd”

        Something about lycanthropy, something about a silver family crest Ardolf carried around with him as motivation - this one wasn’t my idea, though!

...I just wrote it.

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        "It's a shame you came all this way for failure." Strahd's clothes were shred and his armor dented, but as a man he seemed entirely intact. The fight had gone on for hours and the party was nearly torn.

        "Get out of here, we can return again at a different time!" Ardolf threw a frantic wave to Lùthien and the party, he yelled, screamed that they retreat. He was trapped in front of the count, trembling, a tremble in his hands he'd mostly repressed, a tremble he couldn't quite get rid of. Strahd could see how much he tried to shadow his fear, how his resolve was mostly shattered. "You're a monster, Zarovich."

        "Such harsh words, Doctor. It's almost like you hate me." The vampire hissed.

        "Almost -" Ardolf mimicked while he readied himself again; the undeniable possibility of his death was already settled, with that in mind it made no sense to back down.

        "You're barely standing - what makes you think you can hit me?" That blasted, freezing laugh bellowed off the stone walls of Ravenloft's hall.

        "I managed it before -" He cut his own words off and swung his mace back after the vampire, pushing all his energy to aiming. It had to land, had to hit, just one more would be enough -

        "Gods, Ardolf - wait! Watch yourself!" Lùthien, having realized their healer wasn't with the party in their retreat turned and caught the scene just seconds too late. Strahd took advantage of the doctor's careless hope and struck him, forcing him into the ground as he sprawled across the carved brick inlay. He rolled over the tiling and the bag he'd kept so dearly close to his side broke open at the seams. Papers, ink, and fabric fell over the hall - one particular white cloth rattled from the casing and unfolded - revealing a brandished crest. Something not even Lùthien recognized.

        "What's... This?" Strahd spoke in a hollow whisper, the fear in the doctor's face when he approached the metal urged him further. A strange sun shaped sigil was molded on it's face - sternly carved common written over and under the polished seal. He took a moment to read the doctor's reaction before he lifted the small decorative piece off the ground. A short look of surprise - of shock - scrawled itself over his face. "Silver, doctor?" He asked before he continued his inspection. "No Man Left Defeated. Take it this is yours?"

        Ardolf hesitated, but ultimately refused an answer.

        "...Or your family's? You did say something about them. Human affairs, pathetic ones. How long has it been since you last saw them, Greymouth?" Strahd knelt to the doctor's side, came down to his level. Hardly humbly. "Years maybe, time moves slow in my world - slower than out there. They might've forgotten you. You might've even forgotten them?"

        "I wouldn't." Ardolf spat out, a sputtered cough cried out against the words.

        "Everyone forgets, doctor. Can you see their faces? Have their voices muffled?" The Count's eyes lit up with a bout of sudden realization. "I'm not a monster. Please, let me give you something to remember them by." It wasn't difficult ripping the canvased fabric of Ardolf’s shirt, the count's nails were practicality razors. He exposed his skin and before there was even time to react, forced the brandished symbol into his chest. The sound of a rough, searing hiss rang off the stone walls. It danced scattered with the doctor's screams while the silvered crest burned its image into his flesh.

_______________________________________________

        This one’s pretty different compared to my other posts, I know! I haven’t gotten around to writing much of anything new, school-work made working on drafts impossible. But! We just finished our Curse of Strahd campaign (which I used Ardolf as a character in) and I’ve had these saved in the memos of my phone forever. I thought about trying to post all the in-universe journal entries I wrote for Ardolf on here as well, but formatting those into a post might be a little much. 

Poor Ardolf, though. I would’ve written the others in the party - but I’ll be honest, I felt really bad writing any of the other player’s characters in these situations. They don’t deserve this kind of treatment; Ardolf just has the misfortune of being mine.

[bruno-in-barovia]

Session Five, Part One

Krezk is heavily fortified. The gatehouse was the only point of entry. The kids’ legs were getting tired as we approached, so I picked Myrtle up and Haku carried Freek for the last bit of it. Elliott and Lith took the lead to call to the guards and request they let us in. It took some persuading with the first guard, and he said we’d better be out by nightfall because they won’t have any of our “kind” in town. It wasn’t clear which of the party he was referring to, but I got my hackles up a little at that. Elliott challenged him on it, and he said he’d go get “Dmitri” to talk to us. As he scurried off, the other guards watched us, especially me, with fearful expressions. Ugh. I’m so sick of this.

While we waited for “Dmitri,” most likely the burgomaster of Krezk, Haku wandered off and started doing some kind of dance. At the end of it, he started talking to a crow that had landed nearby. Weirdly enough, the bird seemed to be talking back to him. He told us afterward that he’d been asking if anything out of the ordinary was going on in the area. He said the crow told him something about a “sheep-biter.” So I guess Haku talks to birds now. Okay. The bit of information he got is interesting, though.

Around that time, Dmitri finally showed up with the guard who’d gone to get him. Elliott negotiated with him for our entry to the town, also trying to find out if someone in town might take the kids into their home. He slipped up a little, I think, by alluding to our beef with Strahd. Yeah, he must have misread that, because Dmitri was not into the idea of welcoming folks who might attract the wrath of Strahd to Krezk. I get that. It’s a reasonable concern.

I was getting nervous that at this rate we’d be stuck outside the wall come nighttime, so I stepped up and added that we were just looking to pass through to the abbey, if that affected… anything... I trailed off, seeing his expression. I really hate the way people look at me here. I moved to the back of the group.

Elliott moved on to offering our services in town in exchange for being allowed to come into town. I sort of appreciated his emphasis to Dmitri that our whole party was “a package deal,” but Lith’s added “including these ones” with a gesture in mine and Haku’s direction made me bristle all over again.

Dmitri named some possible tasks we could perform for the town, and a little more smooth talking from Elliott secured our permission to enter.

The town guards hurried us through Krezk, but we got some information on the way. Elliott asked, once again, about the possibility of finding a hatmaker in the area. No dice. Haku told them he’d heard there were some problems with “sheep-biting stuff” and asked what was going on. They were, understandably, confused but said that there had been some livestock missing lately, more than usual, and to ask Dmitri if we wanted to know more. The guards left us at the start of the path that climbed up to the abbey on the other side.

We carried the kids on the way up so their legs wouldn’t give out on them. The switchback path gave us a great view of the whole area, and the thing that most stuck out to me was a large pool in a higher corner of the town that some folk bustled around next to.

A pair of strange-looking people met us past the iron gate of the abbey. One had a cloak pulled over their head to hide their face. The other was short, crouched over, holding a shovel in what looked to be a human hand, but they had a wolf snout, a wolf ear, and monstrous legs.

The wolfish one came up to us and held out their hand. Haku looked around, shrugged, and kissed it. The creature said something garbled and stood a little taller. Fair enough, I guess. 

The cloaked one spoke up and asked who we were. Elliott, of course, took the lead to introduce us and our—the party’s—purpose. He tried to ask the nature of their appearances in a roundabout way, but didn’t seem able to get his question across.

Haku asked why one could talk and their friend couldn’t.

“He’s fine. He just had his work done, and he couldn’t talk afterwards,” the cloaked one said. 

Elliott talked with them a bit more, and they agreed to show us the way to meet with the abbot. 

The rest of the party didn’t seem overly fazed by any of this. They were pretty focused on getting Zazear’s body reanimated. Obviously I still wasn’t on board with this, but I had a thought on the way in, and it kept me moving forward.

Maybe this abbot could tell me more about vampires. How to destroy them, their powers, their vulnerabilities. I’ve left undead creatures alone on three separate occasions already. I’m a terrible grave cleric.

I stayed in the back of the group as we were told to wait in the abbey courtyard. There was a small humanoid chained to a post. It had bat wings and spider mandibles. Screams emanated from sheds around the courtyard edges. Um. This was not good.

Opal reassured us that none of the beings around us were undead. She said that there was a celestial presence nearby. A celestial on this plane? Huh.

The people we met before returned to the courtyard. They were followed by the abbot.

He was a young man dressed in white robes. He looked at us with a gentle smile and asked what we were doing.

I asked if there was anywhere I could wait for the group to be done with this… undertaking, hoping that maybe I could focus on the notes I had taken from Father Donavich’s study rather than taking part in this sacrilege. The abbot stared at me for a moment and then said he would rather I stay. Something in his voice made me hesitate to disobey.

...Athros forgive me for being part of this.

Lith took over explaining the Zazear predicament to the abbot. That he had died a few days ago and the party was hoping to, you know, resurrect him. Sigh.

The abbot got distracted from Lith’s explanation when he saw Ireena. He got this odd look on his face. Lith noticed him staring and brought up a new question: what happens when a vampire bites a human?

Now this I did need to know.

The abbot said usually, nothing. Lith pushed, asking what the “unusually” would be. If a vampire bites more than once, he answered, some “other strange things” can happen. Had anyone been bit?

“Several,” I jumped in, remembering Strahd’s inhumanly fast movements as he bit not only Ireena, but Lith and Haku as well.

Lith shot me a glare, so I clammed up rather than pointing out who’d been bitten. What? They seemed perfectly happy to trust this man to perform an impossible sacrilege. “We just want to make sure that we’re protected.”

The abbot said that the only time to really worry about it is if someone dies from a bite. Then some strange things can happen.

Shit. That means Father Donavich… shit. I really wish I had learned all this sooner.

Things got weird after that. The abbot said some stuff that, frankly, I’m pretty sure was all bull. But I’m going to put it down anyway.

He said Ireena was “the spitting image of Strahd’s love.” Tatyana, from the letter.

He said he believed Ireena is the reincarnation of Tatyana. That souls in Barovia don’t leave; they’re simply recycled.

What. 

“How do you know?” I demanded, stepping in front of Ireena.

“I have been taught,” he said, “many things. As a matter of fact, I have seen portraits of Tatyana, and they are identical.”

Please. That’s ridiculous. Believe it or not, it got more ridiculous.

He asked us to help him recover Ireena’s memories of Tatyana. Why? “Because that is the only way to free the people from their terrible curse. You see, they’re ruled by a despot. The only real way to deal with it, obviously, is to find a good ruler to rule the area.” 

Lith asked what about killing Strahd, and Opal asked if he meant Tatyana, but my mind was racing elsewhere...

I was pulled back into the discussion when Opal asked what would happen to Ireena if she remembered being Tatyana. Gods, were they really going along with this reincarnation hogwash?

The abbot said he hadn’t done this before, so he couldn’t be certain.

Opal asked Ireena how she felt about all this. Ireena answered that the only person who’d ever called her Tatyana was Strahd. She also said that she worried she wouldn’t have space for herself if these memories came back.

I scoffed. “Souls never leave Barovia.” Hah. What a line.

“I want what is best for the people,” the abbot said. “You want your friend raised from the dead. We can—”

“Do we?” I muttered. Lith shushed me.

“—we can both get what we want.”

All he wanted, the abbot said, was for us to keep Ireena with us on our journey, so that her memories would have the opportunity to come back on their own as she encountered familiar places.

He said we’d have to trust that he knew what he was talking about. Which seemed like a direct contradiction to what he’d said just a moment before.

“We don’t have to trust anything,” I argued. “You haven’t given us anything at this point.”

“How is getting Tatyana’s memories back in Ireena’s head going to get rid of Strahd?” Elliott asked.

The abbot said that Strahd’s personal failing was tied to Tatyana’s death and that part of the curse on the land was directly tied to Strahd himself. He said that removing Strahd’s piece of the curse should break the curse on the land and “give them a better ruler.” Again with that phrase. I don’t know what to make of that...

“What if he still wants to rule?” Lith asked.

He said we’d cross that bridge when we came to it. Hmm.

Elliott had more questions for the abbot, about Ireena, but we didn’t get any new information. Finally, it was time for the abbot to do his part in the party’s sacrilege. It was time to “raise” Zazear.

Moment of truth. This was my time to intervene. To stop this mockery. If they went through with it, if Zazear came back, I might have to deal with him. Because it wouldn't be him, not really. But if I stopped this before that took place, my party would never understand. They’d never forgive me. Would it break my connection to Athros if I allowed this to happen? No, he would understand. He sees that it’s better to let them learn for themselves.

I didn’t shut up about how bad of an idea this was, but I didn’t try to stop it, either.

Please let that be the right choice.

[ask-thehappykids]

oooh they’re here!!! and finally too because this took me waaaaay longer than I thought it would haha. basically these are some NPCs from the Curse of Strahd campaign that @cantolopejeevas and I are doing haha. sometimes I have to make up characters on the spot and then I get way too attached to them haha. Although technically Myrtle (and Michael though under a different name pffft) are in the campaign, I actually gave them personalities and whatnot.

So Sorina and Vasha are wereravens and they’re both Great. Sorina is a spunky gal with a lovely british accent who hangs out in the woods warning travelers of the nearby vistani camp. she gets to sport one of Daniel’s cloaks because when she first met the crew as a raven, she didn’t wanna turn back into a human or risk being very naked in front of strangers. but they were all too dense to insight her bird charades so!! problem solved!! and now she just wears it even though it’s Way too big for her tiny 5′2″ ass.

Vasha in captain of the guard in Vallaki and helped her new adventuring pals overthrow the burgomeister because she thought he was an asshole. she also got to throw them in prison which she did before realizing who exactly they were....whoopsies. she ends up adopting Myrtle and taking her in so that the party doesn’t have to tote around a five year old anymore, and she’s also a badass who got to hold her sword to the throat of two asshole guards.

Myrtle and Michael are little orphan kids that the party rescued from a collection of hags who wanted to turn the kids into pies. there was a third kid too but he actually had a family that he could go home to so he did that. and these two just...travel with the party. and it’s great because kids are adorable and cause so many problems and are great plot devices that I’m going to make use of so much. Myrtle is a wild child who’s just happy to be alive, and Michael is a selective mute who just really wants to be loved. (spoiler alert: he’s TOTALLY loved)

anyway they’re all great and I love them all and I’m glad I finally drew them

[wanderingcub]

I’ve been playing so much D&D lately that when I saw CoS, it took me a couple beats past reading “Myrtle’s bathroom” to realize that that stood for Chamber of Secrets, not Curse of Strahd 😅

In CoS when they try to sneak into Myrtle’s bathroom to ask her about her death, McGonagall catches them and Harry makes up the excuse that they wanted to see Hermione in the hospital wing and Minnie doesn’t give them detention and then comes this and since we all know Harry’s dumbest excuse, here’s the official suggestion to rate all of Harry’s excuses on a scale from

to

[chiyuki-hiro]

R.I.P. Freek & Myrtle, I’m sorry my group failed to save you after all...

[bruno-in-barovia]

Session Four, Part Six

We all ran upstairs. On the second level, we found Bella working at the grinder. She had a bucket full of bones next to her. We could hear voices calling for help from the floor above us. Bella turned to look at us. Her features shifted, growing in height, nails lengthening, horns growing from her head, skin turning purple. She grinned down at us.

She hit me right off with a spell. I sent up a prayer and returned fire with Athros’ guidance. Lith’s firebolt missed her. Elliott summoned the image of a glowing lasso and threw it over her, where it faded away. Bella struggled against the spell and was held immobile. “Have at her, y’all,” he called to us. Opal moved closer to the hag and somehow missed with her shortsword.

I used the same prayer and spell again on her. Lith moved up and blasted her with fire, actually hitting her this time. Behind us, Elliott made eye contact with the hag and said, “You are one ugly child-eating motherfucker.” The hag ignored him. Opal swung again and missed, again. Dammit. At least Elliott’s spell was holding.

Bella was still immobilized. Lith sent a firebolt right into her face. Apparently having given up on his bard magic for attacking purposes, Elliott ran up with his own shortsword… and missed. Opal made contact, though, and cut her up real good. I hit her with another guided bolt.

“If you release me,” the hag shouted, “I will heal your friend!”

I readied another attack. The rest of the party looked at each other and, thank the gods, let out a chorus of “NO”s to go with mine.

She broke out of Elliott’s spell and made a gesture in our direction.

I woke up with Elliott smacking me in the face, just in time to see the hag vanish like the one before her. We woke Opal, and Elliott and Lith let us know that we hadn’t missed more than a few seconds.

Upstairs, we found two children in cages. I hurried over and asked where they were from, but they just looked at me with fear and started crying. I backed up sharpish. Lith moved in front of me—to block their view of the scary monster, I guess—and told them that we were there to rescue them, that their captors were gone.

They told her they’re from Vallaki.

I got a ring of keys from a hook on the wall and let them out. The poor kids had trouble walking. They looked like they had been sitting in those cages for a long while.

We searched through the rest of the mill for anything of use. Opal found a cart outside to more easily transport Zazear and now the kids. Elliott found a book in the attic. I found a barrel of fetid water with inscriptions around the inside. Lith found a cabinet full of potions.

I couldn’t read the inscriptions, and neither could any of the others. Lith took Zazear’s thieving tools from his body and used them to open the cabinet. She stowed the potions away. There was a small trunk inside the cabinet as well. When she opened it, a huge number of toads spilled out and hopped all over the room.

Opal had been talking to the kids outside for a bit. Their names are Freek and Myrtle, they’re seven and four, and their parents actually sold them to the hags for pies. So they don’t want to go back to Vallaki. Understandably.

Can you imagine? I… I really can’t. They must be hurting so much.

I wasn’t sure what to make of the barrel. Just dumping it out seemed like a bad idea. So I picked up a toad and set it in the water. That was probably a bad idea. Something shot out of the water, wrapped around it and dragged it down. Lith found a stick and stuck it into the barrel. The water began to writhe.

“Why would you do this?” I yelped.

“I wanted to see what was in there!”

A horrible little creature popped out of the barrel. It had a long tongue, a wrinkled snout, and a mouth full of teeth that had never seen rough linen. Naturally, I went to pick it up.

The beast let out a massive belch. It growled angrily and screamed something in what I took to be Abyssal. I cast thaumaturgy to make the ground shake as I growled back. It leapt back, eyes wide, then proceeded to clamber around the room, grabbing things and throwing them poorly at us.

We got to moving out of the mill. Lith stayed behind for a minute to break the various oil lamps around and set fire to the puddles of oil before following us out.

As the mill burned, Elliott showed us the book he had found in the attic. Many of the pages were illegibly written or too brittle to read, but he found a section to read aloud to us.

It was a lot to take in. It was written by Strahd, a long time ago, seems like.

His writing said that he used to be a warrior, “good and just,” but his time as a warrior drained his youth and strength. It said he had only death left for himself. His army took over the valley of Barovia, and he called his family, who had been unseated from “ancient thrones” long before, to join him in the castle Ravenloft. It notes that he hated his younger brother Sergei for his youth and beauty.

Then Tatyana came into the picture. His writing said that he fell in love with her “youth” and “joy,” and she rejected him, instead getting betrothed to his brother.

There’s this part after that where he reflected on why he thinks she turned him down… he said that she saw only “the death of the aged” in him, and was afraid of it. It said that as a result of that, he came to hate his death.

“My hate is very strong,” the book said. “I would not be called ‘death’ so soon.”

It said he made a “pact of Blood” with death that he sealed by killing Sergei on the wedding day.

He sought out Tatyana, and she ran from him, and in the end of the chase she threw herself off of the walls of the castle. Her body was never found. Strahd’s writing said he still doesn’t know what happened to her.

Then came a part that made me stand to attention: “Arrows from the castle guards pierced me to my soul, but I did not die. Nor did I live. I became undead, forever.”

Well, now we’ve got to destroy him. Luckily for me, the next section had some tips.

“I have studied much since then. ‘Vampyr’ is my new name. I still lust for life and youth, and I curse the living that took them from me. Even the sun is against me. it is the sun and its light I fear the most. But little else can harm me now. Even a stake through my heart does not kill me, though it holds me from movement. But the sword, that cursed sword that Sergei brought! I must dispose of that awful tool! I fear and hate it as much as the sun.”

So that’s helpful, like, really helpful. He fears sunlight and this sword of his brother’s, and a stake through the heart will keep him from moving. I’ll have to make a note of that.

The last section that Elliott was able to read said that Strahd is still searching for Tatyana. It said that he feels taunted by her, and is still trying to win her. To win a dead person? Okay…

It also said that he lives “far below” the castle, “among the dead,” and that he sealed “the walls of the stairs” to keep from being disturbed.

We stood around talking over what we had learned here. One main note from that: Elliott recalled Madame Eva’s reading, that she had mentioned a “sword of sunlight.” So those are probably connected.

We also talked over what to do about the rest of this property as the mill burned. I suggested that we should dig up the zombies from last night and destroy them. But the rest of the party was against doing that in front of the kids. I tried to explain that they would be better off seeing it, to see that they could be destroyed easily, but no one was on my side. They pointed out that it was already late morning and we had a pretty long journey ahead.

Fine. But I’ll be back to finish the job. Those zombies are tallies waiting to be restored.

On the road, we saw the skeletal rider again. We just all stepped to the side. I waved. It glared right at me as it went by. Must have known that I was planning how best to destroy it next time. After all, seeing it twice in three days while covering so much ground in between? This undead must be following us. Taunting me. I’ll lull it into a false sense of security before I strike.

We passed another desecrated grave and moved on. At last we came to a crossroads that split toward Krezk one way and Vallaki another. It was decision time.

The kids didn’t want to go toward Vallaki at all. Elliott’s only interest at the moment was getting Zazear’s body to the abbot in Krezk. Ireena didn’t have a specific place or person in Vallaki where we could take her, aside from that Lady Wachter from Strahd’s letter, and obviously we weren’t about to take her there. I couldn’t advocate for Krezk because of the whole Zazear thing, so I held off on voting. Everyone else agreed on Krezk.

We reached one more crossroads, this one with a signpost that had the top half snapped off and lying nearby. Elliott was able to fit it back in place with accurate directions because the break was at an angle, and we were off toward Krezk again.

The other fork had been labeled “Berez,” and Haku mentioned that that’s his hometown. We’ll have to go that way for his sake at some point. It’s uncharitable of me, but I admit I considered the idea that we’ll be able to offload him there.

One more hour of walking and several more crossroads took us to the gates of Krezk at last.