Fae hums a cheery tune and gets into a fighting position.

Init: 22

Gertrude flies over to the gargoyle, scratching at its face and distracting it, before flying away.

Doremor rushes forward, cursing the creature with his Hunter’s Mark before stabbing it with the magic shortsword he picked up earlier.

Attack: 23 Damage: 24

Fae puts in three strikes of her own with her...normal attacks that don't do 41 damage.

Attack: 15 Damage: 11

Attack: 19 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll.

Attack: 8 Damage: 5

The gargoyle immediately crumbles into dust in the face of your combined assault, allowing you to get a better look at the marble slab. You're able to see that under the bones is the space for a hidden compartment and after moving the bones, you're able to access this compartment. In the compartment, you find a sword with a platinum hilt and a blade made out of pure radiance. You have located the legendary Sunsword. 

As a reward for finding the last of the legendary items needed to vanquish Strahd, you all reach Level 9!

Fae beams. "That was awesome and we should do that more! Also, look, the shiny sword! I bet Sammy would be really happy to use it, don't you?"

“I am in much the same boat as my paladin friend,” says Hadrian. “Before this, I wandered the lands close to my place of birth, offering aid and protection to travelers, and clerical services when required. Barovia is an entirely new experience for me.” He casually sips his drink.

Doremor looks at his new shortsword appraisingly, "Yes, this was pretty fun. Now let's get this back upstairs before it's too late. But before we go, you should take this."

He takes the sunsword and tosses Fae the saint's thighbone before moving back upstairs via the way they came in.

 On the way up, he'll cast Goodberry and stuff all the berries in his mouth.

"Yuplet'sgo!" Humming, Fae turns the thighbone over in her hands as she skips alongside Doremor, just restraining herself from outpacing him.

Belzo, Hadrian, Samael:

Strahd doesn't look too terribly interested in either of your tales. If you had to guess, you'd say that from the look in his eyes, this is the standard song-and-dance he gets from paladins and clerics.

Doremor and Fae:

Both of you dash up the stairs, with Emil struggling to keep up with you. You all dash into the dining hall to find your comrades seated at a lavish table, with Strahd seated at a grand piano. Winter gestures for you to take any seat you wish, as if this was a perfectly normal occurrence. 

(lol, go figure)

Samael gives no real surprise to Strahd's boredom, it was expected. However he does turn to see Fae, Doremor and their new friend arrive. Giving them a smile and nod, he looks back to their vampire host, "Sir Strahd, if our own tales fail to entertain you, how about one of your own? Surely a man as experienced and long-lived as you has a story or two you enjoy retelling?"

Humming, Fae plops down in a chair, looking around curiously.

Doremor walks into the room, tipping a nonexistent hat to Strahd as he uses both his Hunter's Sense and Slayer's Prey on him. As he walks by Samael's chair, he gives him a wink and reaches into the paladin's lap, leaving a metal hilt as he withdraws his hands and takes a seat.

Sleight of Hand: 26 (Courtesy of Belzo's diviner powers)

Belzo stirs from his own thoughts, seeming confused at his current placement for the first few moments. Realizing Fae, Doremor, and... a companion of theirs(?) had entered the room, he shoots Strahd and Winter a curt glance prior to simply dismissing their arrival with nothing more than a roll of the eyes. "Mn. Yes, indeed. As one who has had not the pleasure of having been long upon, or even been born to your realm, I am afraid I -- nay, perhaps we are far too ignorant. Why our last meeting was more... simply business than a proper introduction to one another. One that spoke volumes, for sure. But by your visage alone, you struck me more as just a bored noble seeking to play with a few pets." He says casually. "In fact... I don't believe I've even heard your full name. Nicknames, certainly, but...." He pauses, and then chuckles to himself.

"Though in fairness, neither has a name been given in turn. My own is Belzo Balkamaar of Candlekeep, in case it has been unspoken or forgotten up until now."

Doremor, you aren't able to pick up anything from Strahd as you look at him. Strahd laughs at all of you as he suddenly dissipates, as if he were a mist. "You wanted me to tell you a story, Master Pathseeker? I could very well tell you a tale of all of the fools I've slain who were in your position, but there is no need. Very soon you will all be dead at my hand, with your skulls taking their place among the rest of my fallen foes." 

Fae appears unfazed. "Fun," is her only cheerful comment, waving at the mist.

Samael stands and looks around for where the vampire could have gone/is doing, checking on Winter to see if she's taken any action. After that, Samael looks to the party, "So are we all prepared?"

"Not if my shadow beats you to it first." Belzo mutters darkly as his shadow, for a brief moment, writhes unnatural before snapping back to normal. He too glances to Winter to see if she remained in the room for further antics. "... Almost, sameal, almost. We should expect company from our dear, dear host. But with any luck, he'll allow for a certain few to do some... bonding before then." He says, standing up if only to allow bones to noisily pop in their sockets. "Up to you all. Dinner is still here, and it would be 'rude' of us not to "finish" it during this time of bonding... But what say you, Lady Winter? Think that master of yours would mind to leave us to finish dining in peace at least?"

Doremor gives a menacing grin that seems more a grimace, “Awfully kind of him to be here personally, maybe we could lie around for an hour or so before going to see the man himself.”

Short rest HD: 6

Winter does not respond, but you are able to take a short rest if necessary.

Taking a moment to rest then, Samael looks over the hilt that Doremor passed him. Attuning to it, he can't help but feel a small swell of sadness and pity for the blade. The hilt alone seemed beautiful and strong, he can only imagine how the blade might have been.

Looking over at Fae and Doremor, he asks, "Aside from the sword and Tome, did you discover anything of note?"