You leave Davian, taking the wine you deservedly won by defending his winery, not to mention life.

https://www.dndbeyond.com/atta.../691/600/761/022.jpg

The familiar road winds through the foggy woods for hours on end. All the time you feel like you're being watched, but you see nothing.

The road branches north and climbs a rocky escarpment, ending at a gatehouse built into a twenty-foot-high wall of stone reinforced with buttresses every fifty feet or so. The wall encloses a settlement on the side of a snow-dusted mountain spur. Beyond the wall you see the tops of snow-covered pines and thin, white wisps of smoke. The somber toll of a bell comes from a stone abbey that clings to the mountainside high above the settlement. The steady chime is inviting—a welcome change from the deathly silence and oppressive fog to which you have grown accustomed. It’s hard to tell at this distance, but there seems to be a switchback road clinging to the cliffs that lead up from the walled settlement to the abbey.

But you notice the road continues west, into the white mist. You could ignore the return to Krezk and continue this way. A way you did not notice when you left Krezk. Because you turned left when you left. You would have had to turn right to go that way. But now you have to turn right to go to Krezk, and if you went straight you would go into the mist.

“Well?” Jun Jia asked Chokhar dryly. “Isn’t that the way to Krezk?” She waited with an expectant look, an eyebrow raised in bemusement.

"...I mislike these twisted paths," said Ceila.  "This land is strange; such things should not change."

"It is", the barbarian answered, oblivious to the snarky undertone. "This up here must be the monastery the burgomaster mentioned. Krezk is down here on the right side. We better hurry, or we'll have drank all that wine before reaching the town."

Chuckling at his own joke, Chokahr eased the chariot down the right path towards Krezk. He was loathe to admit it, but Ceila's words rang true to his ears. This land was twisted, and it was playing tricks on them. Chokahr feared that witches, druids or plant monsters were not the worst this countryside would throw at them.

Taking the right path is the right path, correct.
The air grows colder as you approach the walled settlement. Two square towers with peaked roofs flank a stone archway into which is set a pair of twelve-foot-tall, ironbound wooden doors. Carved into the arch above the doors is a name: Krezk.
The walls that extend from the gatehouse are twenty feet high. Atop the parapet you see four figures wearing fur hats and clutching spears. They watch you nervously.

"It's all right! They bring wine!"

"Nay! Hold! It could be a trap. It could be Strahd."

"Idiot. If it was Strahd he would just fly through, taking a bite out of your stupid neck on his way. They have wine. Open the gates."

The gates open without any proof from you. The mist-shrouded village beyond the wall is nothing more than a scattering of humble wooden cottages along dirt roads that stretch between stands of snow-dusted pine trees—so many trees, in fact, as to constitute a forest. To the northeast, gray cliffs rise sharply, and the road winding up to the abbey is easy to see from this vantage. Curious heads poke out of windows to watch you, licking their thirsty lips.

There is not a tavern to take the wine to, where do you go?

Locations:
Your house.
Burgomaster's house.
Random house.
Shrine and Pool at the north of town.
Head toward the Abbey???
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:33, Tue 17 Aug 2021.

Going back to the man handing out the orders - and perhaps the money - seemed like the right thing to do, so Chokahr steered the wagon towards the burgomaster's house.

"There's your wine for now, mayor," he called out, slapping the heavy barrels with his dirty hand. "Might not be the end of your troubles, mind you. The winemakers have got bigger problems, and somebody will have to help them if you want more of those barrels in the future. And I completely forgot to tell them about the ale, what with all the fighting going on."

Still suffering from lingering effects of the wounds he'd taken from the blighted stick-creatures, Vyktor of Rosewylde had been quiet during the return to Krezk. He seemed to snap out of it somewhat as ominous thunder rolled when the guards atop the towers invoked the name of the so-called Devil.

Something seemed to be nagging at him a bit, like an itch in the center of one's back when adorned in armor...

Mystery rolllz: Vyktor Rosewylde rolled 50 using 3d20 ((14,17,19)).

He glanced in the direction of the manor he'd laid claim to prior to their departure to procure the wine. Perhaps...?

The house-your house-seems all is well. You feel drawn to it as if it welcomes you back. But all is well, your paranoia is just getting the best of you. All is well.

The Burgomaster told you of their recently passed son, Ilya. Still dressed in the mourning clothes he and his wife practically rush out of their home to greet you.

"Oh thank you and your gods, praise to the Morning Lord as well of course. We are saved. Wine for mourning, and then for gladness. Thank you thank you."

Your payment, as promised, 25gp each.

"Well, it's something," said Ceila.  "Shall we take a look at the shrine?  I wonder what passes for clergy in this land, if they can't purify tainted wine..."

Chokahr scratched his head, juggling his coin pouch with the other hand. The additional weight felt good - provided he could find something useful on which to spend his well-deserved riches. This countryside did not look all too promising in the way of taverns, brothels, or smithies. Following Ceila on church-hopping didn't seem like the most entertaining prospect either, but in all fairness, there was little more to do. He nodded at his companion, pocketing the gold.

"Yeah, why not. Maybe the priests have heard from this Baba Gasyla, or what's-her-name. Maybe they have an idea what can be done about her. Or maybe they have an interest in brewing some real ale, so we can finally get something decent to drink, at least in a few weeks."

"Burgomaster, we appreciate your prompt payment, please keep us in mind if there are future needs of the Burg which we might help with."

Glancing in the direction of the manor, Vyktor added, "Also, I'm in search of staff as it were, a servant, a groomsman, and ultimately a squire. Should you come across anyone willing, qualified, able and... brave enough for such consideration, you'll let me know, will you not?"

To his companions he agreed, "I'm interested in seeing the shrine as well. And then we should discuss the threads we left dangling at the Wizards of Wine..."

"Agreed," said Ceila.  "To the abbey, then.  I'd like to know who or what they worship here... but the druids need to be dealt with, yes."

Jun Jia nodded. “We left families in danger, and that Baba will inevitably turn her attentions here in the near future. We should heed other voices in this party and resolve that problem soon.”

You turn your head toward the abbey and consider that your next destination. As you take the path uphill the pool to the northwest catches your eye.

Even under gray skies, this pool at the north end of the village shimmers and sparkles. Near its shore sits an old gazebo on the verge of collapse. A wooden statue of a mournful, bare-chested man, its paint chipped and faded, stands in the gazebo with arms outstretched, as though waiting to be embraced.

Check it out? Continue toward the abbey?

The pitiful statue caught Jun Jia’s eye. She paused long enough to look over the wooden carving of the morose man. The statue reminded Jia of the lessons about Suffering that she’d learned at the monastery. Her encounter with inanimate objects in the cursed house instilled a healthy caution. She wouldn’t touch the statue, much less hug it, but she’d look at it with a discerning eye.

Your experience tells you this water is more than natural. It is miraculously clean, unlike most everything you have encountered in this world.

A young man, about age 13 approaches you curiously. "This is the Shrine of the White Sun, that's the Morning Lord... he looks around to make sure no adults are near to hear him, "Between you and me, I don't believe the Morning Lord is real. If he was, why does he let everything suck like this? Why does he let Strahd stay in power. They say Strahd used to be the Morning Lord's champion. And they say the Abbot in the Abbey came from heaven to redeem Strahd. But no one says what happened. All I know is that the Morning Lord sucks."

He tosses a rock into the pool. But then he turns to Ceila while pointing at Vyktor, "Is he your boyfriend???"

In reply to DM (msg # 16):

Jia giggled at the boy’s question for Ceila. When her laughter passed, she gestured at the water. “May I drink…?” The water looked refreshing, refreshingly clean for the dour world of decay that they wandered. A sip of cool water looked quite inviting.

"I'm not familiar with the Morning Lord," said Ceila.  "Does he have power in this world...?
 Ah, you may find that Jia isn't available, if you're looking for a girlfriend, though," she added.

Chokahr elbowed the boy gently. "Hey kid, is that water safe to drink? Good to know where we can fill the ol' waterskin. By the way, who's that Strahd everybody's talking about?"

Vyktor's eyebrows raised a bit at the question, obviously not having expected it. Instead of answering, he simply pulled the leather glove from his left hand and began to hold it up... it was then that he realized the silver ring he wore as a token of a promise was no longer there. Instead, an ugly red scar was visible in its place. This revelation seemed to shock the former knight much more than the question from the boy. He stared at his hand a moment longer before he quickly replaced the glove and turned away, his thoughts returning to those last fearful moments before his exile to this cursed place.

Somehow the statue seemed to catch his attention and he looked upon it as his heart raced within his chest and the blood pounded in his ears. He had no idea of the significance of the missing ring nor the scar, but it could not be good by any stretch of his imagination nor suspension of burgeoning dread. For a moment he had the impulse to step into the pool and enter the statue's embrace, but his stoicism suddenly returned at that point and restrained him from doing so.

"If this Strahd person really exists, which I'm yet to be convinced of, I'm inclined to think he's simply a master of manipulation and not the demi-god of evil he's made out to be."

"My devotions are to a different God, one who understands suffering and compels me to free the oppressed. Whether by delusion or subtlety or strength of arms is of little import to me. The fiendish Strahd must be confronted... which I intend to do!"

He flexed the gloved hand which hid the scar, willing it to move, though now it felt slightly numb.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:22, Fri 27 Aug 2021.

"You truly wish to meet Strahd?" A sinister transylvanian voice pours out like ink from the teenager.
BAMF.
SKREEEEE!
A dozen bats and thick mist shoot out of the boy, and when the confusion clears, standing before you is a gorgeous middle-aged man, his pale skin shines like diamonds, his body built like a warrior but his eyes shine with the intellect of a wizard. He runs his hand through his long graying black hair to fix it from the abrupt transformation.

"Yes, Jun Jia, the water is safe to drink. For you. It also benefits you with a lesser restoration spell, so perhaps save your sip for when you require it, it will not work twice."

He takes a step toward Vyktor and in a flash is standing right beside him, "I see you are missing a ring. Beyond that, the one to whom it represents. I pity you. I can relate. And that is where we can help each other. In the town of Barovia, several hours east of here is a woman named Ireena Kolyana. She is the reincarnation of my first bride to be, Tatyana, who killed herself the night of our wedding. Every twenty years I find her again on her 20th birthday, which is August 10th by the way, but everytime I try to woo and wed her she kills herself again. I am cursed. I need your help. Help me and I help you, I can return you to your homes."

Evil, yes, pure evil. But he is not here to fight you. This is the plea of a man who has no friends, no one to help him. A man in love, doomed love.

Jun Jia shifted into a defensive pose when the bats and mist emanated from the boy. She held her fists at the ready, until the vampire lord assured them that he came in peace. Jia glanced at Vyktor with a withering side eye, and shook her head with a grunt. For the moment, she listened to the tale of his doomed bride.

Then, Jia politely nodded at Strahd.  “Thank you for sharing your water and your knowledge,” Jia said to Strahd as she gathered some of the fountain water in her waterskin. When she filled the skin, she considered his tale. “If I may ask, why do you consider us best-suited for this particular task?”

The former knight's hand went instantly to the whip at his belt as the boy bizarrely transformed before them! There were words, certainly there must have been, but they seemed to be stuck in Vyktor's mouth, frozen there much as any other sort of muscular reaction was halted as well! He beheld the strange beauty of the man who'd appeared and could not help but feel intimidated by the almost otherworldly perfection of his being.

"I-I am Vyktor of Rosewylde," he finally uttered with as much of his own bearing as he could muster. It wasn't that he forgot his former title, 'Sir', he simply felt it of little consequence at the moment... for whatever reason.

"I presume you to be the Lord Strahd we've heard tell of since our arrival in this realm. You seem to know of us already by some manner. Your reputation is most terrible. The people of this land seem to both fear and loathe you..."

There was very little saliva in Vyktor's mouth and he had to work at keeping his tongue from sticking to the top as he forced out the words. He felt a tightening in his chest and a ball of something he could only describe as... Dread in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed as best as he could manage and continued.

"Nor is your story a very flattering representation of your character I might add. If what you say is true, perhaps you are not the one cursed after all, perhaps it is this poor girl who is trying to escape you."  The boldness of his words surprised Vyktor as they clawed their way out of his mouth! He could feel his knees trembling and his hands grow clammy inside his gloves. The knots of fear were expanding within and he struggled to keep his composure.

"However, you are not incorrect in your supposition as to my own tragedy." Vyktor felt his throat constrict and tears threaten his eyes. With a tremendous resolve he held them at bay, at least for now.

"Our parents negotiated our marriage. We were young and duty bound to the demands placed upon us. It was a blessed twist of fate that she and I fell in love... Before we were married, her father's nefarious designs were exposed. In an effort to stave off the inevitable dissolution of our arrangement..."

It took nearly all of Vyktor's will to hold back the tears at this point. Skipping over much of the story, he concluded. "Suffice it to say that exile for me was a punishment worse than death. I cannot set things right in my own land as long as I'm bound to this realm. If you truly have the power to send me back, I'm inclined to help you in return. What is it you ask of us?"

Strahd places a strong hand gently on Vyktor's shoulders. "The worst of fates, SIR Rosewylde. I know your pain, truly I do. I-...."

He pauses, and in a show of empathy unbuttons his silk ivory dress shirt above his red velvet vest to bare his chest: a massive black hole where his heart would be. He begins to button it after you've all had a disgusting look.

"I relate more than you can know. This entire land is subject to my heart, my feelings. I fear I will be doomed to repeat my fate with Tatyana forever and ever. A mighty warrior though I cannot win the fight against my own depression. Every 20 years the dark powers sends people like you. I've tried and tried and tried. Sometimes they kill me and get sent home. But it does not free me, Barovia, or my people.

If you can help me win back Tatyana, who now believes she is Ireena Kolyana-adopted daughter of the Burgomaster of the Town of Barovia, I will be your undying ally. You will have all restored to you, Vyktor. Same for all of you."

Ceila nodded.

This Strahd... he was insane, she was sure of it.  His promises might or might be forgotten, but his request was that of a madman, obsessed with a dream of a relationship that was not real, that only existed in his mind.  He'd destroy this woman again and again.

...but better to let him speak his words.  Better to get his measure, before striking.

Vyktor recoiled a bit at the sight of the man's missing heart, his stoicism faltering a bit. Emotion and empathy seemed to burn within his own breast. No wonder Barovia suffers, its Lord is broken and driven to madness!

"If there exists a means to break your curse, I'm inclined to help you. The suffering of all seems to hinge upon it. The culmination of my exile may well rest in this undertaking as well."

"You've expressed a deadline," Vyktor winced at his choice of words, "what day is it now?"

As the boy's abrupt transformation occured, Chokahr grabbed his hammer and took a combat stance, ready to strike. What emerged from the mist stopped his ardor like a storm gale blowing out a weak candle. The barbarian knew what it meant to be a predator, and what it meant to be a prey. And he knew that in the eyes of this creature, he was even less than that. He was no stranger to pain, to defeat, to humiliation; yet all his past torments seemed like a walk in the forest compared to the sheer menace that emerged from the stranger's mere composure. Wordlessly, he slipped the weapon back into the sling on his belt. There was no point in even trying.

It seemed the creature was ready to strike a bargain. Mystified, Chokahr listened to his companion's sob story - who got so carried away over a woman anyway? - and couldn't help but feel a hint of respect for Vyktor's ability to play Strahd's feelings like a finely tuned violin. The man had either much more courage or way less brains than he originally thought. But apparently, some agreement could be reached.

"Is that... is that really all you need? Find the girl, keep her from killing herself? Such a simple task... and yet many before us failed. There must be more dangers to this. What are you not telling us?"

Jun Jia gasped at the grisly sight of the gaping hole in Strahd’s chest. She calmed herself with controlled breaths so she could regain her composure and stifle the sympathetic needle-pricks of the nerves in her skin. Breathe in. Release. Jia saw equally horrific injuries in her travels. I am no simpering maiden who hides behind a strong man. I am a Monk of the Golden Dragon Heart Sect, she reminded herself.

Still, Strahd’s condition served as a painful reflection of the strange new land. A heartless lord who ruled over an equally heartless land. Poetic in its bitter lesson.

Since they needed information, Jun Jia thought of a question that she considered relevant. “Why did Tatyana kill herself? If we know that, perhaps we can help break this circle of misery.”

"Today is January 17, 735. I have done my best to leave the lady alone, unlike other times where I go around trying to woo her only to be foiled again and again. I thought this time I would try heartier patience. It also took much time for me to be aware of your presence, which is concerning. Usually I'm quite the avid hunter."

He seems perplexed at his own failing. He raises a hand to his temple trying to remember, "Did I not meet you before you entered the Durst house? Anyhow, you asked about what I'm not telling you, which frankly, could be anything, I prefer if you were more specific."

Then he turns to Jun, "You ask why she killed herself. I know it is because she sees me as a horrible monster. I know it. But she is unwilling to acquise that the only way to cure me, her, and the entire land of this undying curse is for us to be happy. I WILL make her happy."

When he says happy it almost loses its meaning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:33, Thu 02 Sept 2021.

Strahd’s unwavering stridence concerned Jia. She considered the way he said “happy” that rendered the word devoid of any such feeling. She replied calmly and with deliberate politeness. “Desire is often the root of suffering. The more fervently one chases one’s desire, the more misery one experiences if that desire remains unattainable.

If you will but remain patient for a little while longer, we will speak with Tatyana. We will attempt to persuade her that the road to happiness for all lies in honoring her marital vows.” Jun Jia kept her tone non-threatening in hopes of ensuring that not only Strahd wouldn’t interfere, but also let them walk away from the conversation. “I think we all agree to this goal.”

"When you push her too hard, when you hunt her too ardently, you push her away," said Ceila, softly.  "You only show her your worst self when you do so."

Chokahr was perplexed. He stood there scratching his head, listening to philosophical debates he had no idea were even possible. How could one have so much space in their head for such fruitless thought? Was it not enough to search for your next foe, your next meal, your next bedmate, or enjoy the contentment of having found them? In a land of woe and terror, any other consideration seemed pointless to him. But the powerful lord standing before him, the one that made his inner beast cower like a pup, seemed to think otherwise.

Oh well. He didn't have to understand it in order to accept it. If there was one principle Chokahr had followed all his life and wholeheartedly embraced, it was that might makes right. If this giant of a man thought such a feeble-hearted wench worthy of his attention, then he must have his reasons.

He shrugged.

"So what now? We find her, and then what? Put chains on her so she can't hurt herself?"

“There will be no chains,” Jun Jia said flatly. “This task requires gentle persuasion, not brute force.” She exchanged a quick look with Ceila before turning her attention back to Strahd. “We will help Tatyana see a different view, and ensure no harm comes to her.”

"No no no." Strahd laughs, but it seems forced, as if he's copying what he remembers laughing to sound like, there is no joy, happiness, or humor behind it, "No chains."

He looks up at the abbey high above on the hill and absentmindedly sings,
"Frontin' about my day, I'm feelin' criminal, habitual
I try to hide my pain behind a broken smile
So out of style
I've been feelin' self destructive, but I love it
I can't help myself your taste is so seductive."

When finished he smiles- THOSE TEETH!

"The gates of Castle Ravenloft are open to you at anytime. I would avoid visiting the Abbot. Do not concern yourselves with the affairs of the Martikovs. All will be well with regard to the Wizards of Wine. I would never allow the the land to thirst forever. 'The spice must flow!' to borrow the phrase."

He points at the fountain, "Fun fact, water used to cascade down from the statue of the Morning Lord here. But we can't have RUNNING WATER now can we? HAHAHAHAHA!"

This time the laughter is full of passion. The earth itself seems to resound with the laugh. Strahd breaks apart, bit by bit, forming into mist that is carried away on the wings of laughter.

"...I don't feel inclined to help that monster in any way," said Ceila.  "But he's strong.  I do pity his chosen victim, though.  It's no wonder she goes to great lengths to avoid him."

"Victim? What are you talking about?" Chokahr replied with a raised eyebrow. "This is the ruler of this land, and he is obviously very powerful. And good-looking. Any mate he chooses should be honored by his attention and gladly stand by his side. This is the gift of a lifetime! I say we find this lass and show her how lucky she is, and how much she could achieve standing beside this great ruler."

Crossing his arms, the barbarian beamed proudly, giving a satisfied nod.
"Imagine the strength of a pack led by this giant of a man! We will be unstoppable!"

Vyktor glared at Chokahr but said nothing of his thoughts, be they in agreement with the huge barbarian... or otherwise.

"I feel it my duty to this poor young woman to keep her from harming herself. Whatever happens beyond that is her choice, and assuming this curse is broken through our efforts, we may or may not be hearing wedding bells in this bleak land."

He glanced at the gloomy sky which seemed to always threaten rain or worse. "We're on a schedule now it seems. Do we have any idea what day it is?"

see calendar. strahd told you the date, if he can be believed

Jun Jia exchanged meaningful looks with Ceila & Vyktor. She stared at Chokhar for a heartbeat, then spoke. “We must help Tatyana find inner peace. Her turmoil helps perpetuate this tragic cycle. My interest is in her. That it aids Strahd will simply be a matter of convenience, not a vow of all our loyalty.”

"Strahd's trapped in a spiral of destroying that which he thinks he loves," said Ceila.  "And he's not changing his path.  I've seen it all too often, I fear."

Chokahr looked back and forth between his companions. He had the slight feeling that something was amiss, but couldn't quite put his dirty finger on it. Even more confusing was the fact that, for all intents and purposes, the four of them agreed on what needed to be done. Well, that was new.

"...Yeah, I heard the boss. Talk to her, convince her, no chains and whatnot. Am I missing something?"

He couldn't shake off the feeling that.... No, it must have been the weather. Shrugging, he uncorked his waterskin and poured the content on his head and face washing away some of the grime of the journey. Then he bent down to the fountain to fill the pouch in the basin's blessed waters.

"So, what'd this magical water do, exactly? Res-ta-ray-shun, the boss said. Is it, like, food? Water that is food at the same time?"

"The curse of wizardry itself no doubt adding to the dreadful situation. I didn't believe the local citizenry when they spoke of such a being as this Strahd, but now I see he does posses some power, or at least a meaningful handle on showmanship. Such magic has probably roused local superstitions to the point where they believe he is truly a devil..." He shuddered in spite of his dismissal of the strange encounter which had just taken place.

Vyktor checked his gear, wincing a little at his recent wounds. While doing so, it came to his mind that Strahd had mentioned the date. "January...?" He looked around at the gloomy surroundings, not entirely convinced.

"I feel as if we should meet the young woman soon and establish some degree of trust. As we're strangers here, she'll no doubt need at least that in order to listen to whatever we can say."

"We should also continue to get the lay of the land and an understanding of the folk who reside here. Any knowledge of the intricacies of local goings on and history will no doubt be of benefit to us in this undertaking."

Ceila nodded.

"Agreed," she said.  Chokhar... she did not trust him at all.  He might well betray them to this Strahd, at this rate.  She made a decision to not leave him at her back... but perhaps he'd be sensible.