Regroup from the Onslaught

The party is exhausted from the attack, and regroups inside the tavern.  Arik provides water and food;  the Vistani have disappeared.

The group gathers up its most wounded;  Delvaryn is unconscious and bleeding.

Ismark is enthused, but crestfallen at so much more slaughter.

Rosvetta wants to go to the Burgomeiesters house immediately at sunrise.

Pyotr wants to ensure the safety of father Donovan.

“We must check on the Morninglord at first light!  Perhaps he will know what is of these abominations!”

DonBrapp directs Sieben and the men-at-arms to begin processing the dire wolf corpses for their furs.

“Somebody needs to speak to that lordly swordswinger…  when he awakes.” The dwarf comments on Delvaryn, cursing under his breath.

Ismark recounts how the attacks have been occurring for the last four nights.

As Tomas lays hands upon the fitfully sleeping warrior, a discomforting wail can be heard from outside, to the north but growing in intensity and volume.

Peering through the windows, one of the Barovians exclaims “Do the dead get no rest here?!”

Looking outside a ghostly line of shimmering souls appears to march south from the direction of the church directly by the tavern.  A procession of ghostly humanoids parades in front of the city, from the northeast south.

Kailute intends to follow the procession, and Quilro and Pyotr volunteer to join.  The parade of undead head south of the village and cross the bridge over the Luna river.  As the tail of the group almost reaches the bridge Kailute calls out to inquire where they are going.

Four of the apparitions break away and head toward the three companions following them, and immediately the half-orc is seized with a sense of dread and unease.  Quilro and Pyotr turn and retreat back toward the village.  Eventually all three return to the Blood of the Vine tavern.

Ismalk and Pyotr provide a lay of the land to the east including the vineyards, Tser Falls and the approaches to Castle Ravenloft and Damara.

The clerics dispense healing and potions to those in need before all retire for the evening to study spells and get much need rest.

DonBrapp is visited by a whispy elven visage…  “So….  You have chosen to forsake my offer, rock dweller…”  a familiar voice hisses, and smoke appears to exit the fey creature’s mouth as it speaks…  “You think you are fleeing, when in fact you grow closer.  We will find each other.  Under the mountain.  And I will save your pain for last.”

“I’m not the one who cut you up…  you ask your demon friends how it went for them!” DonBrapp shouts awaking rankled.

Kailute dreams of being on the hunt; or hunted.  In twisted dream logic is it not clear.  He is surrounded by dark shadowy shapes, all sprinting to the NE…  pulling him along with them without touch.  His heart is pumping… but not with fear.  With the exultation of pursuit!  He swings his great axe to fell one of the creatures… but it whiffs through thin air, pulling him toppling into the pack carried further along in the darkness.

Quilro dreams of reclining on a couch of amazing comfort, surrounded by all the pleasures of flesh and feast his heart could ask for.  Barla and Rowen lie with their heads upon his lap, both looking up and smiling…  until across the room the image of an elf whose flesh is transparent, showing the grinning skull beneath is seen in a mirror.  “You could have unlocked great power, Eldarym.  Instead, you selected eternal vengeance.  When you have amassed all the joy you think your soul can ingest, then I will turn it to ashes!”  The voice hisses, and the elf finds himself on a piercing cold slab, watching the bodies of his companions’ decay and turn to rot beneath him.
The group awakes late in the morning of 4 Nightal.  The group travels first to check upon Father Donovan at the church.

In the morning, Bildrath and Parriwimple from across the street check in upon Arik to ensure they are safe.
Enjoying the strong Barovian coffee Quilro quips “Alright!  Let’s go visit this priest and solve these people’s problems!”   with a playful tug on DonBrapp’s beard.

DonBrapp distributes potions of healing out of an abundance of adventurer’s caution.

A local tanner has joined Sieben and the men-at-arms in processing the wolf hides.

The sobbing no longer emanates from the townhouse.

Atop a slight rise stands a gray, sagging edifice of stone and wood.  This temple has weathered the assaults of evil for centuries and is worn and weary.  The bell toward leans to one side, it’s sweet tone long silenced.

The faded pink and yellow marks of the morning lord adorn the double doors, which are closed tight.

Quilro conducts a quick inspection of the building, noting that it has not been breached but a human lies inside the building.

Kailute pounds on the door to no response before using his sword to life the cross haft holding the door barred.
The interior is wrecked.  Fine wooden pews appear broken as if matchsticks and form random piles of rubble the length of the 100’ main chapel.  Directly ahead a human male in the robes of Lathander appears huddled around the base of an altar, at the foot of a chapel overlook that centers upon an enormous onxy raven.  Two small candles flicker light in the midst of several completely burned out puddles of wax.

“Lightlord, are you hurt?”  Pyotr steps forward gently.  The man appears to be in a deep sleep, but is brought to by the gentle coercion.

“Be careful, Pyotr!”  Kailute cautions.

Noting the raven icon on the balcony, Pyotr explains it is a special totem to the Barovian Lathanderites in honor of Queen Ravenovia, one of the first of the Zarovich line.

His eyes snap open.  “IS IT NIGHT ALREADY?  ARE THEY UPON US?  WHEN WILL HE CEASE HIS ONSLAUGHTS?”   Seeing the new faces along with the old, the obviously disturbed priest attempts to collect himself, straightening his bedraggled hair and smoothing his robes.  He is probably no more than mid-thirties but his eyes and gaunt face belie hard decades of maintaining a dying faith.

The party introduces itself to the distraught priest, who recounts a similar description of the recent attacks.  He shares the procession is comprised of recent dead, assumed to have fallen in combat with Strahd.

Asked about Baron Strahd, he invites the group into his private chambers.

Father Donovan has sent to Damara for assistance, but the political violence following the assassination of King Virdin will probably prevent immediate aid.

Villager interaction with Strahd is limited;  the Burgomeister usually provides the annual tax via delivery to the towers.  Most visitors to Castle Ravenloft have been foreign dignitaries or other Damaran nobility.
Pyotr prepares the priest a tisane while the companions confer.

The priest relays the tale of how Ireena was found at Tser Falls, unaware of her past and without parents.  The Burgomeister raised her as his own, and she bears the uncanny likeness of the woman Strahd was rumored to have been in love with.  This love was not returned, and she and Strahd’s brother both came to ill endes, possibly at the count’s hand.

Father Donovan believes Ireena is so similar to Strahd’s lost love he is determined to wed her, and until his desire is met the village will continue to suffer attacks.  Legends suggest that every generation there is an incarnation of Tatyana that provokes Strahd into seeking her out.

Sensing urgency the group jogs from the church of Lathander to the Burgomeister’s house on the west end of town.
A weary looking mansion squats behind a rusting iron fence.  The iron gates are twisted and torn.  The right gate lies cast aside while the left swings crazily in the wind.  The stuttering squeal and clang of the gate repeats with a mindless precision.  Weeds poke through the snow, which has been trodden into mud to form a path around the dwelling.  Deep claw marks have stripped the once beautiful finish off the walls.  Great mottlings tell of fires that have assailed the walls.  Not a pane nor shard of glass stands in any window.  All the windows are barred with heavy planking.

“Ireena!   Are you alive!?”  Pyotr calls in.  A muffled voice responds at first, and then the sound of nailed boards being pryed from the other side of the main doors.

“LATHANDER’S GLORY YOU HAVE RETURNED!”  Peering through the door is the alabaster face of a stunning beauty.  Red rimmed eyes belie hours of sleepless sobbing, but the allure of the young lady is still undeniable.
Pyotr rushes through the double doors and assists removing the planking blocking the door.

Inside the house is very well furnished.  Although well kept, the scent of death penetrates throughout, over the cloying smell of incenses.

“The lord sent a carriage for me….  I was going to go…  see if I could reason.  Papa forbade it…  and the attacks began.  Wolves… enormous howling wolves.  Led by a giant creature larger than man or wolve.   It….  It… “

She cannot speak but signals to another room where blood tracks lead around the corner.

“What caused these bloodtracks?”  Kailute asks innocently, and Ireena sobs in Pyotr’s arms.

Quilro and Kailute search some of the rooms to the north.

After a few more inquiries the group follows the trail to the master bedroom, where a balding aged man lies upon bloodstained tablecloths and bedsheets, his mouth and eyes agape with the fear of his final moments.  Both his abdomen and his neck appear to have been clawed open by an enormous beast.

The corpse appears to be dead for three to five days.  DonBrapp readies a spell to commune with the dead.
Ireena comes to the bedroom collected. “Papa said to marry the Baron is to mate with death…  tried to tell me a tale of Sergei and Tatyana…  Queen Ravonia.  But before he could tell me all the beasts attacked.  They have been rampaging nightly, and the folk who attempted to resist them were slaughtered.  Now we cower in our houses and await death like cattle…  who are these outsiders you have brought to our mountainous land?”

Introductions are offered.  The group discusses what they hope to glean from the fallen magistrate.

Quilro employs a spell to put Ireena magically to sleep, and Pyotr carries her off to her bedroom.

Fyrnlocke and Quilro explore the mansion and find the Burgomeisters library.  In here they find the village tax ledger and a communication from Baron Dimian Ree of Morov, seeking assistance in trade routes from Morov to Barovia and beyond.  It is clear the village generates only modest tax revenue.  Quilro burns the tax records.

DonBrapp reaches through the misty portals to find Kolyana Indirovich.

The Burgomeister is gratified his daughter is still alive, and relates he was killed by large changeling of beast and man. Strahd is a powerful necromancer and has ruled Barovia for at least four generations.  The wolve, the bats, some say even the Vistani report to him.  Strahd is cunning but fair.  He is only available to move at night.  Any union of Ireena will result in her undeath.  Repeated attempts to send Ireena away were rebuffed by waves of Strahd’s minions. The Burgomeister reveals the location of his strongbox containing the family and village tax receipts.

Pyotr returns from the bedroom, and assures the companions that any expenses that are within the power to give by the Guryerovich family will be done.

Quilro negotiates exclusive bloodstone rights on the spot, which implies Strahd will soon no longer reign.
Kailute discusses attempting to get Ireena to Balinok on the coast in order to escape Strahd’s minions.
Their information gathering complete the companions depart for the east, but not before DonBrapp recovers the strongbox from under Ireena’s bed and loots the Burgomeister’s wealth.

Back at the tavern, DonBrapp directs Sieben and crew to recover the rugs from the Burgomeister’s mansion.  Also, he requests the smelting of silver for ballistae spears and dipping them in holy water.  The local blacksmith joins the effort.

The group heads east in the late afternoon.  After passing the bridge the group finds their way to a fork in the road and travel north to seek out the Vistani.

The road to east is muddy and slush filled, but the wagon is able to navigate.  The forested hills close around the road for several miles.  As the forest recedes the path splits north and south.  Wagon tracks and boot prints indicate recent travel upon both routes.

A half mile ahead, the obliterated remains of three trade wagons lay smashed on and along side the roads.  Inside each were a mixed cargo of ore, barovian wine and bloodstone bricks.  All of the casks of wine are smashed, and long since evaporated but the bloodstains suggest the attack occurred in recent weeks, but not immediately.  Throughout the debris 23 bloodstone bars can be recovered.

Tracks suggest a mixed war party of humanoids and clawed beasts struck from the north and then departed back the way they came in the direction of the Luna River.

The group examines the tracks and can determine they are more goblinoid and monster like than the wolves attacking the village.

The party cross loads the bloodstone bars and continues east.

The canopy of mist and branches overhead suddenly gives way to black clouds boiling far above as a clearing opens before you.  On the far side of the clearing are several colorful wagons parked on the banks of a pool.  The mournful strains of an accordian mix with the moaning of the wind.  Several brightly clad figures surround a large roaring fire.  The road passes close by this camp.

“Hail travelers, and friends!” Kailute yells out in traditional Vistani camp greeting.

One of the Vistani approaches and returns the greeting. “Well met, travelers of the Moonsea.  It has been foretold we would meet you, and Madam Eva awaits your introduction at your convenience.”  He signals to a large red tent over his shoulder.

“Are the fortunes good or bad?”  Inquires Kailute.

“Fortunes are neither;  they are as the fates reveal them.” The gypsy replies.

They offer food and drink;  DonBrapp preaches urgency while Quilro immediately begins to drink and dance with the folk around the fire.  They share their itinerant life as traders and jewelers ever on the move.

DonBrapp urges all to approach the tent and as they enter all is illuminated in dim red light.  Madam Eva speaks with a raspy voice and offers greetings suggesting she knows something of the Heroes of Waymeet.

Inviting each to have their fortunes read, she produces an ornate stack of hardened vellum cards.

Quilro pulls a card of ornate glowing chalice.  “Ah, the cup.  A positive omen.  Perhaps you will find such an item in a blighted place of former sanctity.  Search among the ruins for a place of supplication and there you may find an object that may aid in your ultimate goal.”

DonBrapp is dealt a card with a dancing skeleton upon it. “This is a dark card; the very heart of darkness.  The location where the shadow must return in order to be rejuvenated.  Seek this in the very bottom of the dwelling.”
Fyrnlocke pulls a card with a knight astride a horse, covered with armor.  “Seek the kings throne, not his advisors and there you may find what you seek.”

Inquisitive Kailute asks Madam Eva more about the area and its environs.  She relates that the Vistani know most every shadow and path, and although are able to evade some of Strahd’s minions, they have no unnatural protections.
Kailute pulls a card of an ornate stylized heart. “A dark shadow of evil is over the entire place.  When you enter you will fight from within this darkness.  Ensure you have divine protection.”

Quilro departs to rejoin the fire while Kailute asks a few more questions about Barovia at night.  She shares the names of the Vistani who were in the tavern the night prior.

DonBrapp stands tapping his boot watching Fyrnlocke and Quilro in their relvery.
“May fortune always follow you Crashhawk.” Madam Eva states as he departs.

DonBrapp notices movement on the north side of the camp, near the river bank.  Elbowing Kailute to gather the others.  A group of monsters, large and small have crossed the river to attack the encampment.

“Intruders!  To Arms!”  The Vistani yell, and DonBrapp shouts “Heroes of Wayment ASSEMBLE!”

DonBrapp calls down an enormous gout of flame from the skies and it impacts two ogre-magi.  “Attack!”  They yell in ogre-orcish.

Quilro releases a fireball to the north, scorching several monsters and starting the front end of one of the Vistani wagons aflame.  The sounds of battle to the west echoe over the camp.

Kailute marches forward using his blind fighting skills, and strikes one of the invisible.   “Return to the horde!  This land is cursed!  Desist before we kill you all you fools!”  Kailute cries out in orcish.

Quilro transforms into a harply and leaps into the air.  He observes a scrum of eight Vistani holding off a mixed line of orcs and kobolds.

The elf releases a lightning bolt ripping through the line
.
Kailute slices through the ogre-magi and again encourages the monsters to withdraw.

Facing much worse odds than a simple caravan camp, the monsters morale begins to break.

DonBrapp releases a lightning bolt from buzzkiller obliterating two kobolds.

“Take your friends and retreat!” Kailute shouts, and their leader repeats the call to retreat.  The monsters start to take to the rafts that they used to cross the river.

DonBrapp continues his pursuit, as Quilro releases a final bolt of lightning breaking the attack.  Kailute and DonBrapp notice a large flock of bats in the sky backlit against the clouds above flying above the river in the direction of the village.

Kailute grabs the tiller of a raft and yells “Git aboard!”

The companions crowd onto one of the monster rafts as the Vistani mercilessly cut the retreating monsters with backstab attacks.

It is nearly 10pm as the party assembles once again in the town square.  DonBrapp keeps his eye to the sky, and while he sees many shadows he cannot locate the horde of bats.

The ballistae is returned to its defensive position, and Delvaryn is goaded from his wounds to join the heroes to the line of battle.

A slender human female with raven hair and alabaster skin approaches from the northeast.  Incredibly beautiful, Quilro steps forward to engage.

DonBrapp protects Quilro from evil and himself from negative plane.

“Your kind always resists the best embrace.” She opens her vest a bit.

“Intruders.  My lord Strahd sends his greetings and his warnings.  What is your business here in Barovia?”

“We have come to investigate the troubled bloodstone trade, and we are looking to open commercial activities.”

The female vampire is taken aback by the discussion of trade, and intrigued.

“We are here for the prosperity of all the Moonsea.”

“It would be best for all if you took to your quarters during the night.  The lord Strahd has lost many warriors, and is unable to offer complete protection at this time.  If your intent is indeed peaceable, the Baron would very much like to hear your propositions for trade.  Perhaps he will summon you for a discussion tomorrow.  Expect a missive before dinner time, and please dress appropriately.”

The undead maiden retreats into the shadow and disappears.