The party has responded to a call from the Lightbringers, an organization devoted to destroying undead. One of their members, a paladin named Ashlyn, sent the Lightbringers a message asking for reinforcements. Her message said she was in a village known as Barovia, and the land was overrun with undead...
Roughly a days travel from the village of Barovia, the party comes upon the Weary Horse Inn, a roadside hostel whose common room hosts patrons from the sparsely populated countryside. You've stopped in for the night.
With the dying of the daylight, a fog creeps across the land, clutching everything in its clammy grasp. Inside the Weary Horse Inn, though, the fire is warm enough, and if the few patrons are sullen or stare at you a little boldly, at least the food and drink are good.
For an inn's common room, it's quiet. It holds no more than a handful of customers. They keep their voices low, and even the clink of their mugs seems subdued as the fog gathers outside. When the door swings open, every head turns to see who has arrived.
This new arrival loudly stamps the mud off his boots in the doorway, then strides confidently over, throwing a letter down in front of you.
"The village of Barovia is in need of heroes," he says in a thick accent. "You'll do as well as any." Without another word, he turns to leave.
The letter:
I, a lowly servant of the township of Barovia, send this honor to thee. We plead for thy so desperately needed assistance within our community.
The legions of Hell itself are at our gates! The dead rise up out of their graves and seek to drag us down with them! Not content to slaughter us in our homes, they spread the taint of their horrible curse, so that those they kill join their numbers.
There is much wealth in our community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea.
Come quickly, for our time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!
Kolyan Indirivich,
Burgomaster of Barovia
"Wait a moment. What do you mean "You'll do as well as any"?" Phenia calls to the departing man.
"Aren't you even going to enquire about our credentials? And for that matter, how do you even know we have any credentials?"
The man pauses and says "You are not farmers. You are not nobles. You are plainly adventurers."
"So, just handing it out to the first bunch of travelers who might help? Alright." Garret picks up the letter and begins to read it, a smile slowly spreading across his face "Much wealth, offer all that might be had to thee, My good man, you've got yourself a deal. So, set off to Barovia in the morning?"
"Clearly he has been guided by forces in this world beyond our reckoning, this is a sign, my friends" announces Danea in a fervored tone. "Barovia it is."
Izera reads the letter once Garret's done. "The dead rise. Of course we will help. The Raven Queen's will must be done. Whoever, or whatever, is breaking her order must be put down."
Tinker is, as he is wont, working on an array of implements on the table before him using numerous tiny tools. Also typically, it is nearly impossible to discern the goal of his project.
Without looking up, the warforged murmurs, "So we're to be heroes? Very well. When do we leave?"
He says over his shoulder, "My journeys take me through Barovia, but I do not live there. The villagers' troubles are not my troubles. They pay me to find them heroes, and that is what I have found." With that he opens the doors and steps out of the inn.
"Heroes? If you say so."
As the man leaves, Phenia takes the letter from Izera and re-reads it.
"It's a little sweeping. We'd better get there and find out what's really going on. All the Legions of Hell and all his treasure? The Burgomaster's clearly hysterical."
"The undead unnerve most people. If he overstates the threat or not, it does not matter. The abominations that are the living dead need to be put down." Izera speaks calmly. "Let us rest for the evening, and then set out to do what must be done."
Danea nods her head solemnly, grasping her holy symbol of Bahamut and touching it to her forehead. "Tonight I will pray for our safe journey to Barovia and seek council with Bahamut.
Wrapped in her own thoughts, Phenia has little ear for useful gossip.
"I suppose undead are un-nerving for some people. Tentacles can be worse though. And there are things in the Far Realm that make undeath seems like the easy option."
Tinker muses silently, but his memories have little of Barovia, or the regional undead.
"Ignoring his companion's words, Garret listens for useful gossip.
The message the Lightbringers recieved was vague and only mentioned the general term "undead", nothing specific.
Danea and Tinker
Garret
What time of the year is it currently? As far as the next days travel goes, Danea will always invoke the same preparation rituals before she sets off: Virtue, and Fastidiousness. If it is extremely cold during this time of the year and could be a hazard, I'll use the Endure Elements ritual and protect everyone I can.
"So, any of you ever hear of the Vistani before? They're a group of traders, but in the same way I am, if you catch my meaning. They're the only ones who go far enough into the mountains to reach Barovia. The messenger was one of them."
"I can help make sure we get a decent night's rest at least. Probably."
Phenia sets wards around the entrances at ground level, including the kitchen.
"I can do the windows upstairs as well, but it will take time," she explains as she carefully traces the last arcane symbol and watches it glow and disappear into the fabric of the building.
"I can aid you in that, Phenia"
"Thanks." Phenia concentrates hard, well aware of the dangers.
"Wait, that rune should be more like this..."
"No, no, no, it's R shaped...look at it," says Danea, pointing at the runes, "see R...Romanus..."
"Thanks - I think."
Phenia looks doubtfully at the glowing sigil etched by her friends.
Danea smiles innocently and says "...or maybe we should let you do this."
"Yeah, that would be a good idea."
"I think you just turned it into the universal sign for "free booze here.""
"I think you just turned it into the universal sign for "free booze here.""
"No no no, that's free 'blood' here, from what I can tell..."
"Free blood ... yeah. Not quite the advertisement I had in mind. Not as repellent as I'm aiming for."
With the warforged's help, the cicle is completed. The barkeep looks on with a skeptical eye, but doesn't interfere. One of the townsfolk jokes "Hey, now the Weary Horse is the safest place around. Guess I'll be spending more time here!", to the amusement of the rest of the locals.
The night passes quietly. The next morning you head out under an overcast sky. Puddles give testament to last night's rain.
Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors about the muddy roadway. A pall of thick, cold mist spreads over the ground. Giant tree trunks stand guard on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mists. In every direction the fog grows thicker and the forest seems more oppressive.
Gray in the fog, high stone pillars loom up from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road. Huge iron gates hang from the stonework, dew clinging to their rusty bars. Standing before the pillars are two stone statues of armed guardians with wicked polearms. Their carved heads lie among the weeds at their feet, neatly broken from their stone shoulders.
Danea, with her cloak drawn tight around her and her hand wrapped around her sheathed sword, carefully steps forward towards the gate; her eyes alert for any trouble, she stops before the gate to listen...
Tinker, meanwhile, moves up to one of the statues to inspect it, curious about what might have done the damage.
"Well, this is impressive. Wonder who chopped their heads off."
When Danea comes within about 50' of the gates, they slowly screech open, towards you. They hang there in the dead air.
Danea, Garret -
Tinker -
"Ominous. Might as well see what's on the other side." Garret follows behind Danea, his daggers in his hands.
"Stay close to me...I will protect you with Bahamuts blessing." replies Danea with the confidence of someone whose faith is unshakeable.
Tinker follows amiably.
Phenia looks around, shrugs and follows the others.
"The Raven Queen and the Platinum Dragon will ward us in this place. Let us seek the living dead and put them down." Izera is eager to get through the gates, and she leads the way down the road.
Moments after the last of your party passes through the gates, the terrible screech sounds again followedby a loud clang. Looking back shows that the gates are soundly closed. No wall of any sort blocks passage around the gates.
"Interesting, but not terribly surprising," Tinker remarks.
He returns to the gates to inspect for either a mechanical or detectable arcane mechanism.