Castle Ravenloft Adventure

The woman leads you back towards the house, introducing herself as Lady Issadora Dallmov. The front door creaks open and you enter a clearly old drawing room.

Much of the place is covered in dust and the smell of age hangs in the air. The furniture is of a distinctly antique style, with red and navy colored cushions, deep maroon curtains, and a sizable grandfather clock whose top is carved into the shape of a raven.

Above the gate-covered fireplace you notice a painting of an armor clad warrior with stern features and black hair turning gray astride a black mare. To his right is another noble with blonde hair in a pony tail, also on a horse of chestnut color.

Lady Dallmov walks over to a small closet and produces several pairs of old but handsome leather boots.

"Please leave your footwear at the door-I will make sure it is carefully cleaned. Until then, you are free to wear these. Please sit," she asks, gesturing you towards the sofas and chairs. "I will have my servants prepare extra settings at the table. I shall ring once all is ready."

She then turns and slips out a door on the side, presumably to the dining room.

Outside, the clouds grow ever darker and the wind begins to pick up, howling over the moors like the cry of a dreadful beast.

Spot DC 15

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Intelligence check DC 20

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Intelligence check DC 22

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Intelligence check DC 24

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Well, this looks nice. Veraun stated in an obviously sarcastic tone. Im not replacing my foot wear to save your lives but feel free to put on the boots of old fashion. He joked, seriously doubting the cleanliness of said boots in comparison to his own.

On a more relevant note, i had my familiar follow Strahd a few days ago. He saw many interesting things one of which is the lovely woman in red. Our very own Sasha, Strahd's right hand "man". Now... why would she help us to acquire things that would free us from Strahd? Anyone? Veraun waited for their response while dusting off his clothing and preparing a bench by the wall for meditation.

Beleth! Go and see what you find around here. I wish to know as much of our hostess as possible.

OOC: so its only myself, lucca, and kalleth right?

Kalleth smiled at Veraun's sudden eagerness to set out. And here I thought you weren't up for traipsing through the swamp. He sat down with a plate of...well, some of the most tasteless food he'd had in some time...although tastelessness was in its own way a blessing...if it didn't have a taste then it couldn't taste bad, could it? It was not good food, but it wasn't the worst he'd had in his century or so of adventuring.

Kalleth decided, upon seeing what magical fire does to food, especially meat, which Kalleth preferred rare whenever he could get it, he resolved to make his own fire next time. They continued to the manor. Kalleth took note of the graveyard out back, and a noticeably untended mausoleum. Veraun leaned in and whispered to them, and Kalleth simply nodded.

Kalleth waited for the woman to leave the room then said, I will not remove my boots. I will clean my boots myself, if I have to before I may enter, but I will not entrust my gear to strangers. Old habits of an old soldier. He forgot a moment how young he looked, but remembered and quickly added, I believe I've heard my father say that one too many times. I'm starting to say that well before my time.

Kalleth proceeded to a tree, grabbing a stick and using it to clean off his boots, then returning. See, all better.

Kalleth listened to Veraun thoughtfully, then whispered. Someone vying to be the next dark lord? But why now? He sat back and thought. He looked around the room, eyes resting on the picture, briefly...suddenly, what was strange about it occurred to him. Pointing at the picture he said, Does that remind anyone of a certain Lord of Barovia, or is it just me?

OOC: We should be getting another party-member soon, Solariel. I believe she'll be entering at the tavern thread, then posting to the main thread shortly thereafter.

DM Note: It's nothing terribly important, but in the picture you notice the figure on a black horse wears a long sword on his right side while the blonde haired man holds a halberd in a relaxed position.

"As you wish, My Dark Master," hisses the imp and he scurries along the floor like a lizard, over to the door Lady Dalmov just exited from, and darts through.

Spot check DC 15

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Listen check DC 15

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Knowledge Nature DC 18

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After a few minutes....

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Something is out of place here. Veraun states getting to his feet and walking to the center of the room.

ACTION= Casts Detect Magic

Veraun screams then clutches his head and collapses to his knees, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of magic around him. His innate connection to magic as a sorcerer only amplifies the assault, echoing throughout the house.

He regains his composure a few minutes later, but cannot recall any details of the magic he detected. He falls into an arm chair, panting and holding his head in his hands.

Lady Dalmov returns wearing a half-smile on her face.

"Dinner is ready. Right this way."

She leads you to a long table with settings of ancient looking silverware and dishes made for each of you. A roasted dire boar suckling resides in the middle of the table with meat already carved from it. Bread, butter, some cheese, assorted vegatables and a variety of fruits, including apples, berries, and grapes accompany the meal-a veritable feast compared to some of your previous meals, and lavish even by your normal standards. Goblets of white wine accompany the meal. The smell of it all is heavenly.

The seats are high backed things, slightly uncomfortable but very proper looking, of the same antique cast as the rest of the house. At the far end of the room is a large brick fireplace currently in use. Above it is another painting, a portrait of the blonde haired man dressed in old finery much like that of Lady Issadora. On the opposite wall, behind the end seat where she sits, is the same halberd from the previous painting, intricately carved and masterfully crafted.

It is worth mentioning that while everything seems to be wonderfully and dutifully arranged and prepared, you have neither seen nor heard any sign of servants.

"Please sit," she says and pours wine into her glass. "It is so rare that we have guests in this house. Tell me who you are and how it is you came to our quiet little valley."

PCs of non-noble birth (i.e. everyone except Veraun), can make a DC 10 Intelligence check to know the proper manners for a fine dining experience. Nobles already know the customs. Of course, whether you actually use those manners is up to you.

Bowing to the woman Veraun introduces himself before sitting down. After taking his seat he begins mentally screaming for Beleth to come to him invisibly if at all. Still woozy and not altogether comfortable with the abundance of magic Veraun waits for his companions to sit and help themselves to the food.

Kalleth found himself suddenly transfixed by the clock...the hands...why didn't they move? And even as the pendulum swung it made no noise. In fact, there was no noise whatsoever beside the noise that they made. Despite his little pearl of ease, or whatever it was, something about this place struck him wrong, and that made him nervous.

Veraun sensed it too, and was the first to say something about it. Kalleth watched as Veraun cast his spell, and fell to the ground clutching his own head. As Veraun rights himself, Kalleth takes a quick look around the ancient-looking room. There was something not-right about this. Well, pretty much everything was not right about this. I don't think I'll be sleeping well, tonight, he muttered to himself, although he instantly remembered his new little pearl of ease, and realized that he probably WOULD.

The reentry of the lady interrupted his thoughts, and he followed her closely down the hall. A formal dining room. Dammit. Kalleth hated observing formal manners, although he knew how. They were just so...impractical and...uncomfortable.

Kalleth Korgash, he said uncomfortably, fidgeting in the high-backed chair.

The lady takes a slice of boar, adds some gravy, and proceeds to eat.

DM Note: I can't imagine why you guys are so reluctant to eat and drink-the spread's great! Dig in! Who poisons their own food, really? Eat, converse! Eat some more! Go on! What could happen?

"Tell me, sir Korgash, what brings you to our humble land? Do you seek an audience with our lord? Or perhaps a vacation from the hustle and bustle of the large cities."

She turns to Veraun and Lucca as well.

"And you, good dark elf. Your kind is rare in these lands, and rare is the elf which strays from the Svalich Woods. Tell me, good sir-elf, do you know of Valisa the nymph? How does she fair these days?"

Lucca

Spoiler:

Meanwhile, in Barovia...

A pair of hungry eyes watches Ilsine and his comrades, Falcor, Twitch, and Ireena, as they return to the temple having come from the Blood on the Vine with foodstuffs and wine. Claws as sharp as razors on an ashen pale hand glint faintly in the light of the moon.

But the predator stays its hand. Not now. Once all was in place...then...

I thank you for you hospitality, but what are you doing here out in the middle of such a lonesome stretch of land? Who is the master here? Veraun asked. He still abstained from eating as his suspicion was still founded in the abundance of unexplained magic. He continued to call for Beleth.

Call me Lucca fair lady Lucca said politely with a smile, lightly sitting down in the high backed chair without a sound as if he were sitting on air.

His face went slightly blank staring at the food, recalling Veraun's anguish in the previous room...but thinking poisoned food to be a bit novice for someone/something with such strong of magic to send a Drow to his knees in agony, he tosses a grape into his mouth a slight smile.

Remembering where he was Lucca looked back up from the food, to Veraun, then to Kellath, then softly clearing his throat.

Indeed, Lady Dallmov, your hospitality is most welcoming. I am equally curious as to the master of this fine house, and if he may be joining us for this beautiful meal...as for Valisa, I've not heard of her in ages, I hope she fares well. pausing and dropping his fork to magnify just how silent it was in this old house My, how quiet it is in here, your servants and kitchen staff are well hushed, as if they were spirits or specters of a sort. Perhaps they are stopped in time, as your clock seems to be paralyzed...hands stuck on midnight I'm afraid.

Lucca takes a sip of the wine, silently placing it back on the table then looking back to Kalleth, then to Veraun.

When the opportunity came that Lady Dallmov's attention was elsewhere, Lucca quickly and agilely asks Veraun in the Drow sign language Have you heard nothing from Beleth? He has been gone too long.

Kalleth sighed. This place had made him so untrusting. The first stranger they'd trusted here had been a homicidal madman. And the last, as it turned out, was Strahd's own right hand. But who would poison their own food? The question resounded in his head. He remembered off-hand a man he'd met while with Tira, protecting a Nerathi port, a pirate, as he recalled, who put small doses of a particular poison in his dinner every night so that he would develop a resistance to it. This woman didn't seem that type, but given the overwhelming amount of magic apparently in the house (Kalleth didn't know, he couldn't feel it), she didn't have to be. Fidgeting a bit more, Kalleth answered her question in as vague a manor as he could, still not quite bold enough to touch his food. I came into the area with my brother, who stayed in town on business. He's the one who had business here. I'm just tagging along, got bored, and decided to do a little exploring.

He took a deep breath. Really? Who would poison their own food? It took significantly more restraint than usual not to just dismiss his concerns outright and just dig into this...well, delicious looking feast. He was already starting to curse his little pearl of ease.

Lady Issadora smiles and sips from her glass.

"If you seek the master of this house you need look no further. I inherited this estate from my father, Grigori Dalmov after my mother passed away. It may not look like much but it is one of the largest estates alloted to the nobles of Barovia by our great lord. And it was not always so lonesome, I assure you. When I was a little girl...when Father was still alive, these fields were filled with apple trees and alive with deer and pheasant. The other nobles would pay us a call and bring their children with them-I remember, one time, even lord Strahd came to visit."

Issadore smiles slightly at this thought and sips from her glass. Setting it back down a deep frown covers her face.

" But those days are long gone and things have changed. After my father's death-" suddebly her grip on the glass tightens and her voice fills with anger. "No his murder...at the hands of that swine! things were never the same. The days grown dimmer and the house of Dalmov, once proud, now wane as the sun does at twilight."

The lady takes another slice of meat and bites into a spoonful of potatoes.

Lucca, for his part, is not apparently affected by any poison or spell on the food.

Kalleth was eyeing Lucca, and when the elf didn't fall out of his chair dead, or fall asleep, or begin writhing in pain, he simply gave into the urge to dine. The idea of a slow-working poison didn't occur to him at the moment. He grabbed some of the wild boar and had a bite. Mmm...hot, juicy, non-charred meat. It could stand to be a little rarer, but it was the best-tasting food Murdered? Kalleth's attention was grabbed. Why was he not surprised that someone in this place had had her father murdered? By whom? Kalleth's manners not being the best in the world, he did not care to think of himself as prying, though that's exactly what he was doing.

Your hostess scowls a bit at the thought but answers promptly.

"He was betrayed by a man he had thought of as a brother. The wretch attacked our dear lord Strahd and all those had pledged their loyalty to him. Their history, their bond didn't matter, nor did my father's love for him. He took his life in cold blood and then fled like a coward. I have dreamed of justice, of revenge every night since. And tonight I think my wish will come true."

She samples an onion sprig before continuing.

"But these affairs are best discussed in some other setting-not over dinner. I beseeched you good sirs, eat till your hearts content. Tell me what it is that brings you all the way out here? Do you have business in the Ivlis Swamp? Or perhaps you too are here on official business from the count?"

She looks at Lucca and frowns a bit.

"I am sorry to hear nothing of Valisa. She was always so beautiful and kind, even if she and Strahd never saw eye to eye."

Something was amiss. Veraun couldnt tell what it was but he knew it to be true. I apologize for my silence to your questions i just seem to be suffering from a mild headache. Pay me no mind, and thank you once again for your hospitality.

He still did not touch his food. In all the realms no race could boast of lies, deceit, and treachery like the drow could. After living for a century and more in Menzoberanzan, Veraun was no stranger to traps of all kinds. while his hostess continued talking to his companions, he fell into himself further. Achieving a state close to reverie but still coherent of his surroundings he continued his call for the imp and searched the weave for the source and purpose of the overwhelming magic.

Veraun

Spoiler:

Ma'am im terribly sorry i must use the restroom. veraun said as he got up and made for the nearest door.

Kalleth closed his eyes. This whole situation made him uneasy. A murder. Eating dinner in a house known to be and self-evidently loyal to Strahd. For some reason the book...the book made from the flesh of a friend of Strahd's...came to mind, though this situation did not fit at all, as near as he could tell. Besides, that would have been 200 years ago, by his reckoning, at least. He sighed. His overextended mind was barking up all the wrong trees and he knew it. Oh well, at least he could try to get some information from the woman.

I'm sorry. I'm not from around here. Might I ask who Valisa is? Kalleth looked to the lady of the house, curious, and hoping to glean something useful off of the woman.

Issadora seems not even to notice Veraun as he rises from the table and makes for the door. Instead she looks to Kalleth.

"Valisa is the nymph of Svalich Woods and the long time protector of the remote wilderness of Barovia ."

Veraun in the meantime finds himself strangely unable to open the door no matter how much force he applies. Trying another door he gets the same response. Lady Dalmov sips from her glass and bites into some fruit, seemingly unaware of the drow or much else. Suddenly you hear the chimes of the grandfather clock-twelve beats signaling midnight. Issadora's face lights up with the last chime.

"It is time. He has returned, as he said he would-when the midnight hour comes. He returns and my family once more has honor and I my revenge."

She rises and heads through the door which Veraun had such trouble with only moments before, giving you an opportunity to follow her.


THOSE WHO FOLLOW....

Issadora exits out the back door of the house and, carrying a lantern, approaches the crypt you noticed earlier, though it doesn' t appear as weathered or vine choked as you recall. A man is standing beside it in dark finery and a sleek crimson-lined cape. You reocognize his features at once-Strahd. Fortunately his attention seems soley focused on Lady Dalmov.

"Is the tomb as I ordered? Without cracks or imperfections of any kind?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then leave him be. He will be unable to escape so long as the crpyt is undamaged. He will howl and wail in rage and despair, but to no avail. And there he will remain for all time, his suffering without end. I shall relay my success to lord Strahd this very night."

Strahd walks past her and towards you with a grim countenance, but Issadora's words stop him.

"Sir, please tell him this as well. Tell him that I have heard the stories-how he has become a monster, one wich can never die. Until tonight I thought them just that. But my memory is a long one and I cannot help but notice how the messanger of the supposedly ailing count looks just as his master did when I was just a girl."

Strahd turns to face her.

"And lastly tell my lord that his deed tonight will not be forgotten. If monster he is, then so be it-perhaps that is the only kind of savior this land deserves. But as the Nine Divines as my judge the house of Dalmov shall follow him always-we shall never abandon our post as the watchers of this hated prisoner."

Strahd turns back around and resumes his approach towards you.

Greetings "Sir", and who might you be? Veraun asked with obvious sarcasm.

Kalleth filed that bit of information away. Valisa...nymph...the woods...wilderness. Pondering this, out of the corner of his eye, Kalleth sees Veraun trying at the door, unable to open. He suppressed a chuckle. Weak little mage. Of course, it was possible they were being held as prisoners, but what could he do about that now? It was easier just to mock the mage for his weakness.

The chime of the clock stirred Kalleth from his amused reverie. It is time. He has returned, as he said he would---when the midnight hour comes. He returns and my family once more has honor and I my revenge. Even Kalleth's little pearl of ease couldn't stop the chill that ran down his spine. It occurred to him that he was completely unaware of any part the party guests might be playing in this revenge. He watched he leave, sitting still a moment before rising to join her.

Kalleth is astonished at the change in the tomb. He is much less so about the presence of Strahd. He watched the exchange with some interest. Wait a minute. What? Did Strahd just say he would relay their success to Strahd? It seemed...odd, to say the least.

Strahd turned to them. But the Lady diverted his attention again. Again, referring to him as something other than what he clearly appeared to be. Was he some sort of Avatar of Strahd?

Lord von Zarovich, Kalleth said stiffly. He did not bow, though the address itself was formally polite. It just as much a question as it was, polite but cold and distrustful greeting. To what do we owe the pleasure? Kalleth's voice was not sarcastic, as his words were, but that same cold monotone of the greeting. Strahd, if this was Strahd, could kill him right now. Oh well.

((Merry Christmas all! Jolly, I see the world has not ended, so I know your profane ritual on the solstice (and eclipse, how perfect the heavens were for you) have failed. Here's hoping your ritual today is more successful.))

Strahd's pace does not lessen nor does his attentions seem grabbed by your remarks. Instead he walks straight up to you....and then through you. A horrid chill emanates through your form then dissipates suddenly. Astonished you turn to watch the vampire walk away only to see him gone and the house dark, deserted, and worn by many decades of uninhabitance.

You reflexively look back to the tomb-an ancient thing covered in ivy with nearly all of its features worn away. And yet it seems to be without crack or hole of any kind.

The wind howls across the moors of Barovia, its sound like the call of a great beast. And you are alone, in the wind and cold and a
darkness deeper than the grave.

Those inspecting the clock

Spoiler:

END OF CHAPTER 2: THE ONCOMING STORM

Level Up! Lance and jay I'll send you updates to your characters asap

MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL

Kalleth shuddered as Strahd passed through them. Wait. What? What just happened? Turning, Kalleth found Strahd gone, completely gone. He shuddered again. What the hell had they just seen? Had they just witnessed some sort of magical time-loop? Of what significance were the events they had just seen? And who or what was imprisoned in that tomb? Given what happened the last time they freed a prisoner of Strahd's, one far less well guarded, Kalleth was not particularly fond of the idea of liberating this one, though his curiosity begged to know who it was. How had the events become magically imprinted on this place? If they stayed til midnight tomorrow would they see all this again? And why was it that Lady Dallmov could react to them, even fed them, but Strahd did not see or recognize them at all.

Kalleth's head started to ache. We should find a place to make camp, he said, eying the tomb. We'll need rest for tomorrow. His stomach growled. His wariness earlier had made him reluctant to eat, and so he hadn't eaten enough to sate himself. Ignoring it, he strode over to the tomb with cautious determination to investigate it and see if it had any inscription.

The tomb bears only a single, worn inscription....

"Thus always to traitors."

Those who are close enough to read it also feel a slight urge to touch the crypt...almost like its calling

Those who have eaten, it should be mentioned, do not feel full in the least.