Castle Ravenloft Adventure

Beneath an ashen sky a silence falls over Barovia. A black coach, pulled by a pair of magnificent stallions and accompanied by four armor clad riders, half glides into town. Silently but hurried the townsfolk emerge from their homes, standing at attention in the muddy streets. All shudder as the carriage passes, yet none would dare disrespect their lord.

You watch as it pulls into the crudely cobbled town square, where the body of a youngish man rests impaled on a jagged pike. Ireena, you notice, shifts and half hides behind the largest of you as the spindly driver commands the horses to stop only a few paces from you. The door opens and Strahd von Zarovich, Lord of Barovia, seems to manifest from the almost material darkness of the interior. Dressed in azure finery, his hair neatly combed back, and his hands clasped behind his back, he surveys the throngs which have gathered around.

“Why so silent, my people? Did you think that I had left you for good?”

A middle aged man, only slightly better dressed than most of the others, bows to Strahd and approaches.

“Greetings, mi-lord. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

“I came to inspect the town. I heard the baying of wolves last night and thought, perhaps, that the animal attacks had resumed. But it would seem that other forces besides just wolves are at work here.” Strahd points to the poor soul. “Tell me, who was that man?”

“Dmitri, mi-lord. Dmitri Kolyana.”

“Not the son of the former burgomeister I should hope.”

“The same, mi-lord.”

Strahd recoils slightly in horror. “By the Nine!” His eyes take on the quality of a predator as he turns towards Ireena and seems to almost float over to her. You are surprised when the fire-haired girl allows the count to clasp her hand with both of his.

“My beautiful child, surely an ill star shines upon your house these days. Please, I beg of you, forgive me for failing in my duties as this land’s protector. In return I give to you my solemn vow,”—and here Strahd puts his hand on the amulet around his neck—“that the one responsible will, indeed, pay for his crimes.” Boldly, the Lord of Barovia kisses the maiden’s hand—and you see a fire come alive in Ireena’s eyes.

“My lord speaks as if he did not already know the culprit. But given his far viewing gaze and his restless ear, I suspect he has an idea. I would even be willing to guess that the murderer is closer than we might think—perhaps, even, in this very crowd!”

The people of Barovia make silent gasps at the child’s audacity, but Strahd merely smiles and turns away, looking back over his people. You notice, now, that the four riders in armor are dismounting and moving beside their leader.

“You are as insightful, my dear, as you are beautiful, for I do indeed know who is responsible for this crime. And now I, Strahd, Lord of Barovia, command that person to step forth, as the guilty did in the days of old. Face your lord, by command of the ancient custom!”

To this a slightly portly man in badly stained attire—a tanner or butcher, perhaps— emerges from the crowd, his stride at once deliberate and mindless. He approaches Strahd and stands at attention.

“Are you the man responsible for this obscenity?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“What is your name?”

“Ismark Dongravik, my lord. Second son of Regis Dongravik.”

“Tell me, Ismark of the Dongraviks, why you would perform such a monstrous deed, and to a house which already has seen so much sorrow?

The man almost mechanically reaches under his shirt and produces an amulet depicting a leering green face and black wings. All those around gasp in disbelief and whisper to one another.

“The seal of witchcraft!” shouts Strahd. “Then you are, I take it, a member of that sect which howls and blasphemes upon Lysaga Hill?”

“I am, my lord. Truly and fully.” The four soldiers draw their grim looking weapons.

“Then Ismark Dongravik, second son of Regis, as Lord of the Land I sentence you in accordance with the ancient rites. Let your father weep in the heavens as sweet Ireena weeps on the earth.”Strahd waves his hand slightly before turning to face you and Ireena once more, walking slowly over. You try, in vain, to ignore the “performance of justice” as Strahd takes a bow.

“As I promised, radiant one, justice has been enacted.”

Ireena struggles to hold back tears, but manages to find words. “My lord’s heart is truly beyond compare.” Strahd kisses her softly on the forehead before returning to his carriage.

“Let this remind you, my people. Even though the recent plague of undeath has been squelched, there are still many dangers beyond the weak light of your lanterns and torches. I, with all my power, will protect you, as my family has done for centuries. But if you do not heed my warnings, if you should cast aside my protecting hand…well then, one cannot say what might happen in the small hours of the night.”

Strahd vanishes into his carriage and the door seems to shut of its own accord. His soldiers mount up, and soon all of them have disappeared into the distance, returning, it would seem, to Castle Ravenloft.

Ireena, uncontrollably, bursts into tears.

Falcor gently places his hand on Ireena's shoulder,
"Still your tears young one, Barovia will soon have its long overdue justice"

Kalleth's mouth was curled into a sneer as Strahd made his little...performance. Justice. A bad joke. Kalleth barely trusted justice when it wasn't at the end of his own blade...occasionally his brother's. But you didn't have to be half that cynical to be able to figure out what had happened here. The whole town knew that Strahd was behind the death Dmitri Kolyana. Anyone could feel it, this thick, unsaid thing hanging in the air like the tarrasque in the room everyone's trying to ignore. But none of these people would say it. They were too afraid. Even with these mundane, deadened senses he could smell the fear these people had for Strahd von Zarovich. Strahd was also not the best Kalleth had seen at veiling threats, either. Then again, veiling the threat wasn't the point, was it?

Kalleth suddenly realized that he had had his hand clenched tightly to the hilt of his sword during the "Lord of the Land's" entire performance. He took a deep breath and, with substantial effort, forced himself to release his grip. His head turned slightly to where Ireena was on her knees, crying, and hearing her sobs his heart lurched. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaws anew. Looking to what was left of her brother, Kalleth said quiet prayer under his breath; they were words to usher the soul's passing into the next life, spoken out of habit and respect for the dead, but empty of any of the faith that might have given them power. Kalleth used this particular prayer because it appealed to virtually every god except the death god, quite a feat for a prayer designed to ease one's passing.

Kalleth turned to his brother, whose scaled hand rested on --- nay, engulfed --- Ireena's shoulder. He and his brother did not share the fact that they were related with others...questions of why one was draconic and one decidedly less so were too awkward to answer, and it was far easier to help people when they weren't trying to kill you and shun you for being cursed. As a matter of fact, Kalleth was the middle brother of five, Falcor the youngest. His eyes alight with rage and indignation he looked into his brother's eyes, silently mouthing "This cannot stand." Kalleth turned his eyes on the crowd, eyeing them with some mix of disgust and pity, though he was not sure of which he felt more. Finally, finding who he was looking for he said, "Ilsine, I think you should say a few words over the departed, and then I believe we have work to do."

Overlooked by Kalleth as he scanned the crowds, Twitch sat crouched on the ground where he had been watching the events unfold from between the legs of the numerous people around him. His light blue eyes caught every gory detail of the professed killer's death from a lower angle. It was a terrific play, or so he thought, but it was lacking in the cake department.

"Yes, cake would have been better, they should have stabbed the cake out of mister killer man..." he spoke in low tones to himself but that didn't mean he was trying to hide his words. He watched the corpse on the ground with curiosity, wondering why he didn't stand back up again. Perhaps he was scared because the thought the play was yet to finish. Maybe Twitch should warn him, the grass might get him if he didn't move before too long.

Shuffling through the crowds, still crouched low to the ground, Twitched crawled his way out to the dead body. He nudged it as one would when trying to subtlety gain a persons attention, then leaned close and said in a normal tone, "Be careful of the greenly growths, or they will eat you. You should get up soon, or maybe be like your friend over on the impalement implement. He's safe from the grass, that's for--"

Twtich was stopped in mid thought when his eyes alighted on a familiar face. Delight and joy overwhelmed him as he saw Kalleth, the funny man he always liked to play with. He always looked forward to the times he got to spend playing with his friend! Forgetting the body beside him completely, Twitch sprung up and bounded over with a grin on his face, and wrapped an arm around Kalleth's shoulder. What he was about to say, however, was cut short when he saw the crying lady on the ground. The image was one that struck Twtich at his heart, and, with a sullen expression, he studied the sad woman.

"Why does she cry?" he asked in a sad voice.

Ilsine strikes the top of Kalleth’s head with his staff. “Use honorifics when addressing your elders, lad. Master Ilsine, if you please.”

The aged man takes a few steps forward, examining the scene. Two more poor souls. He taps the ground before him with his staff and makes the circular symbol of his faith with the opposite hand, his eyes closed in prayer and trying his best to ignore the strange twitchy man.

“The way you walked was thorny, though through no fault of your own. But as the rain flows into the river, and the river into the sea, so too do tears flow towards an end. Your suffering is at an end. Shroud grant you fortune in the life here-after.”

Ilsine relaxes and leaves the disposal of the bodies to the villagers, instead turning to his companions.

“Fortune favors the bold, but it does not grant him victory. Or spells and steel have failed, so far, so we must turn to a weapon greater still: knowledge.” Here Ilsine kneels (a bad idea, he thinks, given his old knee injury) and addresses the young woman. “Ms. Kolyana tell me, is there anyone within this village who might be able to tell us more about Strahd?”

Ireena’s voice grows bitter at the sound. “Strahd,” she half-spits. “The name is like poison to me now.” The last Kolyana stands. “No one in town knows much of about the count-we try not to think of him too much. But…”she says, turning towards a pair of gypsies sitting nonchalantly on a nearby bench. “There are whispers that the leader of the Vistani may know something. It is said she is a fortune teller without peer.”

Ilsine rests his staff against his shoulder and rubs his temples. Gypsies, zombies, vampires, wolves, witches…and now fortune tellers. He was getting too old for this mess.

OOC: Ilsine doesn’t believe that Kalleth is a dragonkin, but rather that Falkor is human. He is also some what crotchety (hurray for 10 Charisma!) and insistent on respect from those younger than him (he’s roughly 45 but looks older), which, incidentally, Kalleth appears to be.

Sylvain remains silent, refusing to state the obvious. For now he chooses the background. Spending the bulk of his attention, not only to the task ahead, but also the assessment of the motives and reliability of those in his immediate company.

Kalleth sighed heavily. Great. He shrugged Twitch's hand off his shoulder and said softly, "Her brother is dead." He gave a barely perceptible nod to the man on the pike. "She grieves for him." He could never tell whether this annoyance would understand what he was saying, but rather than spill more blood on this scene and rid himself this nuisance, something that he'd never managed to do in the past anyway, he tried, hoping the simpleton would understand.

The strike of Ilsine's staff made him whirl around. He snatched the staff from the air in his hand, but did not yank it from the holy man. His eyes flashed with anger and impatience, but he remembered himself. He was at least a century this man's senior, so being treated as an insolent young lad was an annoyance, even if he looked like a human man in his prime. But if Ilsine believed that Falkor had been blessed by the gods, it was better than anyone getting wind of Kalleth's curse. Kalleth checked himself, his glare subsiding as he released his grip on the staff, bowed, and uttered, a bit of sarcasm in his voice, "Brothers in the Nine we all are, Master Ilsine. I merely thought I'd save us needed time and address a brother as such." He turned to Ireena Kolyana as she stood. Vistani? Wonderful.

Kalleth asked in a low voice, "It would be prudent to know what we're getting into before we seek this fortune-teller. Should we expect any...resistance from the Vistani? Armed or otherwise?"

Falcor fights a small grin, at the thought that Ilsine was most likely the youngest member of the group with the exception of Ireena and maybe the odd little human who seemed to know his elder brother.

He turns back to Ireena and helps her to her feet. Looking at his brother but speaking to the group, "before we continue down this dark path, we should escort Miss Ireena home for it is late," looking at Ireena, "this has been a horrid day little one and you need your sleep."

Twitch looks back at the body that, before, he'd thought was the smart one. Up and away from where the grass could get to him, it seemed like the perfect spot. Twitch was actually quite tempted to join him. But he was dead and that made this lady sad, then maybe that wasn't such a good thing after all. Lacking his usual grin, Twitch sat down on the ground to listen to what was going on. Listening was something he did well, but when it came to understanding what was going on? He furrowed his yellowish blond eyebrows as he listened to be, to him at least, cryptic talk of things he had little grasp of. Was this Vistani a friend? could they play?! The prospect suddenly excited Twitch and he was alive with energy once more.

Springing back up to his feet, grinning wildly, he leaped over beside Ilsine and asked, "Is there someone to play with? I want to play with someone! I play nice with Kalleth all the time! he's fun to play with! He's like a cake seed growing into a wild fire! Wooosh!" Twitch said this last part while waving his hands through the air. He then turned to Kalleth, still grinning, "So much fun!"

His eyes then went to the girl again and he calmed down once more, dropping straight to the ground. He sat there cross-legged for a time before saying, "I want to play with Stahd too! He's like an evil pie with grass growing out of it, with all of its eating Uncle Ed and fishing through salty, steamy, wolfie wolf! I want to see all of his cakes!" He paused here and thought for a moment, then said, "Who is Strahd?" A look of utter confusion covered his face. Of course what he meant was he wanted to fight Strahd and take out his organs to examine and play with, but who knew if even Kalleth would understand the full message. Never he less, Twitch smiled up and him in an almost pleading manner.

"Escourt the lady home, ha ha? My how noble of you, even in this cursed place!" comes a laugh. You spin around to see a woman with black hair and wearing a red dress sitting on the back of a cart. You faintly recall her name from your last enigmatic meeting: Sasha. "Its talk like that will lead you to an early grave., Bloodscale. You and your little friends."

She hops off the cart and saunters over, slyly smiling and fixing her long hair. "But," she says, casting a knowing look at Kalleth. "Perhaps there are worse things in this world than dying." She pauses before you for a moment.

"The Vistani are thieves and swindlers: your purse is in more danger than your lives. But their leader is a sly old wench-you'll need something to trade for her services." Her face takes on a serious cast as she plucks the purplish-red flower worn over her heart and hands it to Kalleth. "Something like this."

With that, Sasha proceeds to walk past you, half-kicking Twitch as he oohs-and-aahs her, and vanishes into the crowd.

Kalleth turned his head, dark grey eyes narrowing as they followed Sasha. She gave Kalleth the strangest impression of knowing...well...certainly more than he'd told anyone here in Barovia. How? How could she know? Kalleth felt a chill in his bones, but it was not from cold. Psychics. Fortune tellers. The last time anything even resembling a fortune teller had spoken to him, he'd spent months searching for clerics and wizards...an enterprise that turned out to be not only futile, but inadvertently cruel. Kalleth stroked his bearded chin, with one hand, the other gloved hand receiving the flower.

"Wait. What is this?" he asked, shouting behind her as she disappeared into the crowd. It was too late. She was already gone in the crowd. He looked down at the flower in his hand. What was it? Why would it be so valuable to the Vistani? He sighed. Damn mystics, oracles, and fortune tellers. He'd never heard one carry good news. Lifting his gaze again from the flower he turned to his brother. "Let's escort the Lady home, then, if she wishes it."

DM NOTE: What you see on this post is called a spoiler tag. To read spoiler, you must click it then hilight the text box that appears. Obviously you pass the indicated check in order to read this information: you're on your honor not to read a check result you did not pass

OOC: You can all make checks to discern the nature of the flower.

Knowledge Nature (DC 24)

Spoiler:

Ireena looks around at your party for minute before knodding her head and giving a smile.

"Yes, let us return to my house. I must fetch my things before we set off."

((Roll, 18; Jack of All Trades, +5; Int mod, +5; 28 Total))

Kalleth turned his gaze back down to the flower one last moment, thinking a second before he recognized it from somewhere in his travels. Ah...that made a bit more sense, although he was a bit leery of just handing it over without being able to recall more about it.

Kalleth raised his gaze from the flower at the sound of Ireena's voice. He eyed the young woman, a mix of wariness and admiration in his eyes. So, she was planning on going with them. It had been a long time since he'd seen a woman of action in such a predicament...since he'd seen such a set of circumstances handled boldly. He had seen her fight a little, and she seemed to have the skills to back up the courage.

"Very well, then. We will go and gather your things. It will help to have a guide in this place. Besides, the Vistani will be there when we're done." Kalleth nodded to Ireena as he readied himself to leave. "After you."

Falcor effortlessly hoists his large stone hammer, with a head the size of Kalleth's broad chest to his shoulder.

He looks down at Ireena then turns to face his brother and speaks sternly in draconic(so only read if you know draconic),

Spoiler:

Kalleth's eyes flashed at such...disrespect. He turned to face his brother full on uttering fiercely in draconic:



He strode to his brother, boldly an onlooker might think, given the fact that Falkor was about 2 full feet taller than him.

It takes no large effort for Ireena to recognize the meaning in Kalleth and Falcor's exchange, given their tone, body language, and what one might expect given the situation. As you head back to her house, she is quiet. At her threshold she turns to face the party.

"For generations my people have dwelt in the shadow of Ravenloft and its master, hounded from all sides by malevolence and misery. Grief, death...these things are old to Barovia, and known by every one of us. But it must end. My father is dead. My brother is dead. All that remains for me now is my duty. I must fulfill my duty, lest my people die as well. I claim no mastery of the blade, only the strength to wield it-both in my arms and in my heart.

But you are truly powerful, the best hope Barovia has had in some time I think. I cannot accompany you if you believe that I will hinder your progress. And so, good champions, I did you fare well. Ride north, along the Svlaich Road-come twilight you should come to a crossroads: from there take the eastern route. Pray that your feet fly swiftly to the Vistani encampment.

Ireena closes the door softly behind her. Ilsine approaches the threshold and recites a prayer, simple but powerful.

"Shroud steal you from sight. Shroud steal you from grief. Shroud steal you from evil."

OOC: Ilsine has cast the Consecrate spell on the Kolyana mansion.

Good things never come from imprisonment. The thought echoed in his head, louder than the noises of the forests or even the deafening, petrified silence of the villagers. As they turned down their own road, leaving Ireena behind, Kalleth fell into his own thoughts. He did't like leaving her alone. No, maybe out with them was not the safest place for her, maybe it was even reckless, but she'd certainly have less time to think on her grief out here, feel of use...but alone...Kalleth did not trust Ilsine's spell to keep Strahd out. Hadn't they just thought he was a vampire? And yet, out in broad daylight he had a man killed, standing before a hundred villagers. Kalleth wondered, not so idly, what Strahd was. Could a vampire be immune to the effects of daylight? If not, what was Strahd? Not knowing the answers to any of these questions, how could any of the others be sure Ilsine's prayer would or could hold Strahd back?

The closer they drew to the Vistani the more carefully Kalleth gripped his sword, pretty much the only thing he had besides what he was wearing and a coin purse, empty save a red flower carefully tucked into it. Kalleth had been adventuring a long time, and always kept his coin purse close to his hilt. Now he held it gently in the same grip that barely touched his sword.

"I distrust these woods, the very air feels as if it has lost all hope of justice." Falcore clenches his eyes shut and mumbles a few incomprehensible hisses and growls and reopens his eyes frighteningly wide.

OOC: Falcor cast detect magic.

Falcor scan's the party as they walk further and further into the wilderness and settles his gaze upon Kalleth, "she was right, you know she was. We would have been hindered by trying to protect her, always looking over our shoulder to check upon her would have left us only half-minded in combat."

Falcor looks upon each member in turn studying them briefly, "my curiosity is gnawing at my hide, what is it that brings such foreign mortals onto this desolate trail?"

Kalleth's eyes shifted to his brother. He knew what this was. Speaking softly in draconic he said:


Kalleth nodded. "Likely, you are right. But I wasn't going to keep her there against her will. And I don't like leaving her there alone. We don't know of what Strahd is capable. For all we know he can walk through the Holy Man's spell without blinking." He stopped as his brother turned to address the others and did not speak, waiting for a reply.

OOC: The only magic detected as you walk along the road is that emanating from the party's magical gear.

"Your affliction seems to be gnawing away at your memory, dear boy. If you'll recall the three of us have been traveling for some time-ever since the incident in New Estcort"

Ilsine wrinkled his brow at the memory. Gnomes riding war lobsters...far more frightful than most would assume.

It is not long after what you assume to be midday (given the constant overcast its hard to tell) that you start to hear the sound of shouts and battle cries from someone up ahead. Picking up your pace you come to the crossroads Ireena spoke of earlier. There stands a gallow, ancient and unused, with a small cemetary on the other side. More importantly you notice an armor clad warrior, wielding an axe and shield, fighting for his life against several...things. They are best described as wispy, elongated human charactures, seemingly composed of moss and darkness. Three have gathered around him, and to each side you see another.

Spot DC 12

Spoiler:

Religion DC 18

Spoiler:

Religion DC 22

Spoiler:

ROLL INITIATIVE!

All skill checks successful.
Initiative roll: 17

Falcor hefts his greathammer in front of himself in both his well muscled clawed hands. Over his shoulder he yells to the party, "Undead! Fire and light my friends, only these will keep them from regrowing"

Falcor hoists his greathammer high, squares his shoulders and charges a Murk attacking the unknown warrior, shouting, "FOR HOARD AND HOME!!!"

Attack: 43
Damage: 33 lethal damage

Initiative = 13

Sylvain fires an arrow into one of the attackers surrounding the unknown warrior.

The big was was a Dragonspawn. Such beings could be useful in so many ways. He couldn't over look the prospect of chaos and excitement that would come from traveling with a companion like that. So in the nature of all drow he stalked the group. First to a house where they deposited a woman and then down a wooded path.

"Jarlaxle had better appreciate this" Veraun thought as he followed behind keeping the party within earshot should something happen. He shadowed running various scenarios through his head always trying to find the most tactile way to intrude himself onto the party. It wasnt long before Veraun heard the sounds of battle and found a solution.

"FOR HORDE AND HOME"

The dragonspawn! Veraun couldnt let such a potential (and strong!) ally go into battle unsupervised. He rushed forward to see the group assisting a lone warrior fighting what appeared to be phantoms of a sort.

"There is no chance i won't regret this" Veraun mutters as he cast his favored spell Scorching Ray, ahead of the dragonspawn,at the nearest phantom.

((Note: These are using the updated stats for Kalleth, not the ones currently posted on the site. I will post his updated stats ASAP. Also, I will be losing regular internet access for about 3 days, so I will either contact Josh or Charlie to act, or I will not act.))
((SPOT: Failed))
((Religion: Succeeded, DC 22 (13 + 5 Int + 5 JoAT)))
((Initiative: 13 (11 + 2 Dex)))

"Stay on the roads! Don't go into the woods!" Kalleth shouted, eyes flashing as he drew his bastard sword. "Keep them away from the plants! The murks won't regenerate away from vegetation!" He centered himself in the road, keeping an eye on all of the surrounding undead and the warrior.

((Enters Punishing Stance, +1d6 damage on a hit, -2 AC))

Characters by color
Kalleth-Red Falcor-Dark Green Veraun-Yellow Sylvanis-Blue lsine-Cyan Twitch-Orange

Summary
Falcor: Hit-33 damage to Murk 2 (bloodied), granting CA to Murk 2
Veraun: Hit-28 damage to Murk 4
Murks: #2 moves two spaces, directly behind Falcor. #3 moves to the left space above the cemetary's west wall.
Kalleth:+1d6 damage, +4 Wisdom, -2 AC
Sylvain: Hit-16 damage to Murk 3, granting CA to Murk 3 (for all the good it'll do)
Warrior:Miss
Ilsine:Casts Owl's Wisdom on Kalleth

With a mighty cry and a single swipe of his weapon Falcor causes the Murk to explode before him in a small cloud of moss and decayed foliage...at least that's what it seemed to do. Horrifically the phantasmal creature reforms out of this cloud directly behind the warrior, moaning in what you can only assume is hunger.

From out of a nearby bush streams a pair of fiery beams which wash over one of the other Murks. You are reminded of its unearthly nature when it gives no cry of pain, though it is obviously quite wounded. Turning your gaze to the spell's source you see a drow clad in flamboyant robes, gesturing arcane symbols in the air.

Slyvain's arrow strikes try, striking one of the ghastly things square on the shoulder, but the monster vanishes instantly, reconstituting itself closer.

"Shroud steal you from harm, young one," says Ilsine as he touches his staff to Kalleth's shoulder. The lad, in turn, takes an offensive stance, ready to strike in his practiced way.

Twitch peaks out from behing Ilsine, curious at the battle before him. These monsters were made of...grass. He couldn't allow the grass to get him or his companions.

OOC:I'll number and letter the rows and columns on the map for easier reference next time.