Return to The Uncalled Four D&D Sessions
Lastly, unfortunately Lyle couldn't make this session, and we didn't want his Illusionist/Assassin Knohm to enter any combat or other sticky situations without having spells prepared, so all the other players chose 2 spells for him to learn, and with that, we started!
To a party of seasoned adventurers such as yourselves, this is but another dull tavern in another dull town in some nameless province. It is but another passage of time between the challenges of true adventuring. Such is the doldrum of existence-waiting for another opportunity.The party tried to follow the man outside, but he was nowhere to be seen once they made it to the doorway.Outside the Inn, a fog lies over the town this evening, draping everything in its clammy grasp. The damp cobbled street shines as the light of street lanterns dances across the slick stones. The cold fog chills the bones and shivers the soul of anyone outside.
Yet inside these tavern walls the food is hearty and the ale is warm and frothy. A fire blazes in the hearth and the tavern is alive with the tumbling voices of country folk.
Suddenly, a hush falls over the tavern. Even the flagons of ale seem to silence themselves. The-tavern door swings open. Framed by the lamp-lit fog, a form strides into the room. His heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins shatter the silence. His brightly colored clothes are draped in loose folds about him and his hat hangs askew, hiding his eyes in shadows. Without hesitation, he walks directly up to your table and stands proudly in a wide stance with folded arms.
His accented voice speaks, "I have been sent to you to deliver this message! If you be creatures of honor, you will come to my master's aid at first light. It is not advisable to travel the Svalich woods at night!" He pulls from his tunic a sealed letter, addressed to all of you in beautiful £lowing script. He drops the letter on the table. "Take the west road from here some five hours march down through the Svalich woods. There you will find my master in Barovia."
Amid the continued silent stares of the patronage, the Vistani strides to the bar and says to the wary barkeeper, "Fill the glasses, one and all. Their throats are obviously parched." He drops a purse heavy with gold on the bar. With that, he leaves.
The babble of tavern voices resumes, although somewhat subdued. The letter is lying before you. Dated yesterday, the ink is still not dry and the parchment is crisp. The seal is of a crest you don't recognize.
The letter reads:
Hail to thee of might and valor:The party talked with the barkeeper, and found out that the letter-bearing man was a Vistani, one of a group of people who wander the land, entertaining and always looking for odd jobs or to trade. The barkeep did not recognize this particular man. When asked about a room for the night, he had a large room available for the whole party. Most of the party decided to sleep for the night, but Garreth stayed up for a while talking with the barkeep and listening in the common room for any kind of gossip or information. Beyond vague warnings about sticking to the road and not wandering the Svalich Woods to the west, he didn't really learn or hear anything of note.I, a lowly servant of the township of Barovia, send honor to thee. We plead for thy so desperately needed assistance within our community.
The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our town cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound and I would have her saved from this menace.
There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea.
Come quickly for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!
Kolyan Indrirovich,
Burgomaster
Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors about the muddy roadway. Thick, cold mists spread a pallor over the road. Giant tree trunks stand on both sides of the road, their branches clawing into the mists. In every direction the mists grow thicker and the forest grows more oppressive.
Jutting from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road, high stone buttresses loom up gray in the fog. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework. Dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two statues of armed guardians silently flank the gate. Their heads, missing from their shoulders, now lie among the weeds at their feet. They greet you only with silence.As the party approached the gates cautiously, at about 50 feet away they opened on their own, screeching as they moved. The party walked through, after which the gates closed behind the party, with the same unbearable screeching. Svetlana quipped that the people of this land must have never heard of oil :)
The party continued along the road toward the southwest, and soon the road turned toward the west again. From behind the trees that jutted out of the forest, a small town sprang into view in the distance. Given that the weather was very misty and gloomy, they could see that there were lights shining from only a few buildings in the town. However, on the mountain cliffs above the forests beyond the town, a dark and startling castle was perched, seemingly looming over the town. It was lit at times by lightning from the swirling clouds above, and other times by a sickly, ghostly, magical light of some sort.
Tall shapes loom out of the dense fog that surrounds everything. The muddy ground underfoot gives way to slick, wet cobblestones. The tall shapes become recognizable as the dwellings of the village of Barovia. The windows of each house stare out from pools of black nothingness. No sound cuts the silence except for a single mournful sobbing that echoes through the streets from a distance.
The sparse light from this building spills out from behind drawn heavy curtains. A sign over the door creaks on its hinges, proclaiming this "Bildrath's Mercantile."Looking to the right (north), they saw:
A single shaft of light thrusts into the main square, its brightness like a solid pillar in the heavy fog. Above the gaping doorway, a sign hangs precariously askew proclaiming this the "Blood on the Vine Tavern."The party decided to look at the Tavern first. On close approach, it is evident that the sign used to read "Blood of the Vine", but the "F" has been scratched over with an "N."
Upon entering, it is evident that this tavern was once a fine place, but has grown shoddy over the years. A blazing fire in the hearth gives scant warmth to the few huddled souls within. The silence here is broken only by the occasional sip of watery wine. A barkeeper is behind the bar, absentmindedly cleaning glasses. Three Vistani are at a table by the door. A man sits mysteriously in the shadows to the right.
The conversation with the man in the shadows yielded quite a bit of information though. They learned:
On the way there, the party pauses:
A moaning sob floats through the still, gray streets, coloring your thoughts with sadness. The sounds flow from a dark, two-story townhouse.Ismark asks them to hurry on by, but the party was concerned and asked if he know who was sobbing. He explained in a hushed voice that it was Mad Mary, who lives in the boarded up and barricaded townhouse. Mary hid her beloved daughter, Gertruda, in this house for the girl's entire life. Gertruda broke out of the house and has not been seen since. Mary fears the worst, and is just lost in her sorrow and despondency.
When the party still hesitated and stated they wanted to help Mary, Ismark became more agitated, stating that only finding Mary's daughter could help her. Besides, hadn't they promised they would help him and Ireena? They must hurry before sundown.
The party indicated they would continue with Ismark, but would come back to help Mary at some point. They continued to the end of the street, and saw:
A weary-looking mansion squats behind a rusting iron fence. The iron gates are twisted and torn. The right gate lies cast aside while the left swings crazily in the wind. The stuttering squeal and clang of the gate repeats with mindless precision. Weeds choke the grounds and press with menace upon the house itself. Yet, against the walls, the growth has been trodden under to form a path all about the domain. Heavy claw markings have stripped the once-beautiful finish of the walls. Great black blottings tell of the fires that have assailed the walls. Not a pane nor shard of glass stands in any window. All the windows are barred with heavy planking, each plank marked with stains of evil omen.
Svetlana answered giving the names of the party members, and said they came to help after receiving a letter from her father. She also told Ireena that Ismark was with them. Ismark spoke up, telling her that he was there and asked her to unlock and open the door.
Svetlana failed a Charisma check, so Ireena did not believe her, stated she would not open the door, and that whatever Illusionist they had with them must think she was stupid by making themselves sound like her brother's voice.
At the mention of an Illusionist, Azdroth decided he would cast a Detect Illusion spell, in case there were any illusions nearby or on the doors or the house. His spell revealed no illusions, and he shared that information (quietly) with others in the party.
Clarity then attempted to talk Ireena into opening the door (because she wears a Ring of Charisma that magically gives her Charisma 18 and a +7 to reaction rolls.) After a few attempts, Ireena unlocked the door and let them in. She hurredly locked the door behind them. The party sees:
The interior of the house is well furnished, although the fixtures show sign of considerable wear. Obvious oddities are the boarded-up windows and the overuse of holy symbols in every room. The stench in the house is horrible.This is where we stopped for the night. See you in January!
