"Out of missiles," Contessa says, bringing to mind another spell. A ray of sparkling positive energy shoots from her outstretched finger.
Realising that he is carrying no weapon that could harm the spectre, Petracleus starts to pull the icy-skinned dwarf from the melee...
Spectre: hp 10/57
...hit
Round 5
With a look of hatred for all things living, the spectre reaches its ghostly hand into Merrick's chest again. Merrick grunts in apparent agony, but manages to squelch a scream as he draws his sword.
Celowyn fires a magic arrow at the spectre. The arrow's trajectory is deflected slightly as it passes through the incorporeal creature, and it seems to have affected the creature somewhat.
Damon drops his bow and closes, drawing his magical greatsword. With a mightly swing, his blade glows as it mystically cuts into the incorporeal apparition. With an angry shriek that's akin to both a bestial howl and an angry gale cutting through trees, its insubstantial form breaks apart into wisps of necrotic energy and dissipates. Its death groan echoes through the mist-shrouded woods.
With the threats from the gallows and graveyard dealt with, Merrick staggers a bit as he sheathes his sword. He looks like he's aged some more. "Ugh. Whatever it did to me, it wasn't good. I just feel...drained, if that makes sense."
"And stay dead... or deader, whatever." Damion backs away from the spectral corpse, obviously shaken, "It was because of that gypsy fortune teller! They have dark powers!'
"Perhaps," Countessa replies, "And perhaps not. Something is not right with this place."
"Yes, thank you so much for arriving when you did. Celowyn and I might have been in serious trouble if you had not helped us. I only wish your friend hadn't been felled by that terrible haunt." The woman in full plate armor says with some remorse. "My name is Theodora Galdron, but you can call me Dora if you wish. I am a holy warrior in the service of the goddess Sarenrae. May I ask your names?"
Unsure as to what his friend would have wanted, Petracleus drags Aymehn's body to a patch of grass and, after looking around for something suitable, presses an ochre brown pebble into the dwarf's hand.
...your final stone, friend...
Passing his palm over his friend's unseeing face, he closes the dwarf's eyes for a final time. Standing, he moves back to the group and introduces himself, "It was indeed fortunate for yourselves that we were lassing theough this way when we did... My name is Petracleus and this is", gesturing towards each of his friends, "Damion... Countessa... Verran... and Merrick. Our fallen friend went by the name of Aymehn in life"
Petracleus seems a little distracted, clearly affected by his friend's demise, "What is your business in this fell place? This realm is not somewhere that folk just pass through".
Seeing all is safe, Verran ignores the newcomers they'd "saved" and went right to what he saw as more important work. Given the curses of this place, it seemed far more critical to perform the proper rites to ensure the fallen dwarf's soul reached Pharasma and no one else. Yes, that seemed right. Moving over to the body without saying a word, he started muttering the appropriate prayers, not knowing what else to do.
Countessa watches the ceremony solemnly. The dwarf had been a good friend, and his loss would be keenly felt. She also suspected that his passing would not be the last in days to come.
Theodora nods in acknowledgement to Petracleus' words, then stands quietly and respectfully aside while the others perform funeral rites for the fallen dwarf.
"Verran, Aymehn would not have wanted to rest in such a place as this... Let us take him back to the Kolyavich house and, when we finally leave this place, we can lay him to rest in a less blighted place", Petracleus turns his attention to Celowyn, "What manner of beast have you been tracking? Whatever it is, it would be no surprise to find that its lair was here... This place is accursed".
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"Gypsies!"
"Have any of you heard of a creature like this in the area?" Theodora asks with some hope in her voice, "I truly wish we had better information, but I have not witnessed this creature personally, yet. I have promised Celowyn that I will help her track it down and dispatch it, and I'm certain we could use the assistance of a strong group such as yourselves. I must confess that I have not heard of anything called gypsies, are these the creatures that we hunt?"
"Um, maybe not. The old gypsy crone told us that two of us would die. I"m sure she's involved somehow, but I doubt she's the creature you're tracking. There is something else cursing this place."
Damion shakes his head and say's darkly, "It's real all right. We should have never gone to that camp."
”Yes… Yes, we should get back to the Kolyavich house… it’s safe…”, Petracleus catches himself, ”Safer… there. We are but travellers to this place and, in truth, may not be able to help you with your hunt… The Kolyaviches though, they are residents of this town and may have some helpful information for you”.
It’s not much… but the sooner we pursue our own prey, the less chance there is of further bloodshed…
”Will anyone help me carry Aymehn?”
"Yes, that sounds like a grand idea. Please allow me to assist you with your friends." Theodora will help carry Aymehn, unless someone who knew him wishes to do it.
Verran simply stays quiet after giving the Dwarf his rites. Unhallowed ground like this wasn't a place to hold a conversation. As they walked back, he was beginning to wonder if Pharasma had sent him here to test his resolve or something. So far he'd managed to hang on to it though how much longer he could was in question
You gather Aymehn's remains and return along the Svalich Road to the village of Barovia. Your progress is slow due to bearing your fallen friend's body and with Merrick's sluggish movements. As the sun drops below the mountains to the west, the air becomes cold and clammy as mist starts to roll in from the river. After you reach the village, a few eyes watch you warily from behind window shutters, but no one approaches you.
You reach the Burgomaster's home about an hour before sunset. Ismark and Ireena are happy to see you, but become quite upset upon learing that Aymehn is dead and Merick has been gravely injured by the apparation.
You smell wine on Ismark's breath as he shakes his head, "I'm so sorry! I didn't think to warn you about the Crossroads—everyone knows that the old gallows is haunted and to give it a wide berth, even by day!"
Ireena says that you may lay Aymehn in the side-parlor where their father currently lies.
The two then greet Theodora and Celowyn. Ismark seems to be in a black mood. He shakes his head again, "More travelers doomed to this accursed valley! I'm sorry-- where are my manners? I am Ismark Kolyavich, now Burgomaster of this town. This is my sister Ireena. Tell me, what brings you to Barovia? Thankfully, most have forgotten us."
"My name is Theodora, I am a holy warrior of Sarenrae. I don't mean to alarm you, but my companion Celowyn and I are tracking down a monster and it lead us in this direction. If you don't mind me asking, what did you mean exactly by 'doomed to this accursed valley'?" The paladin addresses the Burgomaster with some concern.
Ismarck shakes his head at Theodora's explanation. "There are certainly many beasts of the night that make this valley their home—and most of them serve the Master of Castle Ravenloft." He sighs deeply. You can smell the wine on his breath again when he exhales.
"As for what I meant by my comment..." He picks up a goblet of wine from an end-table and raises it to his lips, but then stops himself. "I am sorry, where are my manners. Can I offer anyone a drink?" Ireena rolls her eyes.
He continues, "Travelers are not free to leave this valley without the Master's permission. He controls the mists that shroud the County of Barovia, and only those he wills may safely pass through them. Those he does not wish to leave will find themselves turned around and back in the valley, or... become victims to the creatures that lurk hidden in the mists."
Petracleus, graciously accepting a goblet of wine, acknowledges the fine vintage and watches for Theodora and Celowyn's reaction to Ismarck's description of 'the Master of Castle Ravenloft'.
...maybe our fates are intertwined after all...
"Wine... yes." Countessa takes a sip, nursing it as she listens.
The paladin politely refuses the wine as she listens to the man's story. When he finishes, Theodora's expression morphs from confusion to incredulity, "Yes, who, who is this person? Can a person even do that? Is it even a person?"
Ismarck pours more glasses. Ireena takes one as well.
She replies, "Count Strahd is the master of Barovia, and he has been for generations. A wizard? Yes, at least according to legend-- a necromancer to be specific. And he also would seem to be undying..." She absently places a hand on her own neck.
Ismark drains his glass and pours himself another. "You mean vampyr." He looks at his new guests. "If he didn't want you here, he would not have let you in."
Countessa is surprised. "Vampyr? Is it any similarity to a vampire, I wonder? Dangerous creatures, I've heard. And a necromancer as well? We could be in trouble."
"Why hasn't anyone tried to stop him?" Theodora asks with some indignant anger, just stopping herself from pounding the table, "Who does he usually let in? Is there a pattern to it?"
Ismarck chuckles mirthlessly at Theodora's question. "Over the years, many have marched into Castle Ravenloft to put an end to Count Strahd. Most were never seen again. Those few who managed to limp back to the village were shadows of their former selves, bearing the bodies of their fallen comrades. They're all buried in the churchyard now."
He takes another sip of wine. "A pattern? Who can tell? There seems little rhyme or reason. All I know is that there are thankfully few visitors to Barovia. Strahd does occasionally deign to let Madame Eva and her Varisian caravan leave, yet they always seem to return in a few weeks-- they're our only source of trade or news from the outside world. I can't fathom why they would ever want to return here."
"Vampyr, vampire, whatever. We should be setting up defences again. We got attacked the last night we spent here. Giant wolves and such."
Looking to Celowyn, Verran sighs and then says,"The one thing that is clear is that the only way to leave here is through him. I'm at peace with that. The cleric then looked to Damion and nodded, "Agreed"
”You say others have stood against Strahd before? Yet none have prevailed”, Petracleus thinks on this a while – savouring the wine and its warm undertones, ”I am with Verran, even if honour did not demand that Strahd’s reign end, it seems that we cannot leave Barovia without defeating him. Damion, tonight will be the last night that Strahd’s minions have free reign within this village… we will defend this house once more and, on the morrow, we will visit Strahd in his lair – and end his cruel dominion”
Petracleus doesn’t voice his concerns but the fact that Strahd apparently allows Madame Eva free passage to and from Barovia unsettles the young man…
...I have little doubt we will meet Madame Eva one more time before we leave this place...
"I'm not sure how you feel about this, Celowyn, but this Strahd creature needs to be stopped. It might even have something to do with the monster we're stalking. I think it's best if we team up with these fine folks and put this nightmare to an end." Theodora says with more than a little righteousness in her voice.
With a wide smile at how events have turned, Petracleus raises his glass in appreciation of the idea that Celowyn and Theodora may join the group, "Our prospects of defeating Strahd must surely be greater with you joining... It is an honourable pursuit - a tyrant will be deposed and, with good fortune, we will defeat your beast as well"
...especially if your beast is Strahd...
You assist Ismark and Ireena a bit more with repairing the defenses of the manor house, and settle in for the night. Ireena prepares a hearty vegetable soup and serves you all that for dinner along with some crusty bread.
Merrick comments, "I really hope your Count doesn't attack us again tonight. I feel like I can barely lift my sword!"
At the quizzical expressions of Theodora and Celowuyn, Ismark explains that on most nights, the minions of Strahd attack the house sometime after midnight. Ireena continues, "We had a family heirloom that protected the house from creatures of the night, but it went missing the same night Father was killed. The attacks have been intensifying, and they almost got through our defenses last night. If you all hadn't been here to help defend the house, I don't know what would have happened!
You set watches, and all of you settle in for the night.
At around midnight, your watchers hear the approach of a horse-drawn cart, which comes up the manor's driveway, and sounds the alarm. Everyone is now awake and ready for action. After about five minutes, there is a knock on the front door.
If not on watch, Theodora awakens quickly and politely asks someone to help her don her armor. Assuming someone assists her, she's ready by the time five minutes elapses. She too looks at their hosts and the group, "Well, should I open the door? It doesn't seem like an attack."
"They didn't knock last time"
Damion will move beside the door so he can get behind anyone coming through.
Countessa opens her eyes wide in surprise. Knocking?
Petracleus is woken by the announcement that a cart has drawn up at the manor – and, by the time that someone is at the front door, he is dressed, awake and alert. Nodding in agreement with Damion’s observation that there was no knock before last night’s attack, he replies to Theodora, ”Damion has the right of it – there was no knock to precede yesterday’s assault upon the house. We should, of course, be cautious however courtesy mandates that we will open the door… but hold our visitor at the doorstep until we are sure of their intentions”.
Petracleus’ hand rests upon the pommel of his rapier…