Dallid smiles. "Were ravens! It makes sense now, the raven that had been acting strange on the road... Oh dear, I believe I tried to collect it. I hope they won't hold it against me."
"So what do you expect in Krezk that's more valuable than this wizard?"
Dormark - "Not much, I'm afraid." Van Richten explains. "Scattered reports have been received about a wild mage that has been spotted around Mount Baratok. I mean to find him and convince him to take up arms against Strahd. Though reports mention that he may not be of sound mind... I would not send yourselves as a delusional wild mage can be quite the danger." He chuckles.
Dallid - "An astute question," Van Richten says, smiling. "Other than the possible discovery of the forces that potentially turned Ioben? I have heard rumours of a powerful being currently residing at the Abbey of Saint Markovia - who this person is and the role they play is unknown to me. Finally, I have heard that tragedy has recently struck the Burgomaster of Krezk. It might be worth investigating what, or rather who, is behind this tragedy. Krezk has often been far-removed from Castle Ravenloft and the affairs of Strahd, perhaps things are changing."
Dallid frowns. "I find this strange. Combined with what the lady Isolde told us, it sounds as though Strahd may be losing his grip to other evil powers... And yet, by acting as we do, we may assist him in reasserting control. Is this wise?"
Dallid - Van Richten's face looks grim. "That is a risk," he says, bluntly. "However, if these powers are, at least for a time, disunified, it may afford us an opportunity to strike. One thing is for sure, more answers are required. Answers I believe Krezk holds."
Sandu took the metamorphosis of flamboyant Rictavio into dour Rudolph Van Richten rather well. If he was surprised he did not show it. He sadly noted that he would be surprised should he had been surprised. That is what Barovia did to him: it sucked out the joy and wonder of those who dwelled within its borders. Was this the connection between Strahd and Barovia when he proclaimed himself I am the land ? Just as Strahd sucked the life out of a person, the land sucked the soul out of the people. So Rictavio was not who he seemed at first glance. Sandu figured the amount of people who were could be counted on less than ten fingers in this forsaken land.
Cerio watches with a sense of dread as Rictavio's disguise fades. He half expects the man to grow fangs and leap for his neck. He instinctively takes a step back and places his palm over the healing wounds on his throat. The other hand grips the hilt of his khopesh. In the small space, he again notices the smell of rot that seems to roll off of the blade.
Listening to the tale, he scratches his head, struggling to follow along on a few of the points.
"What's a maurezhi? This group here set it free? How'd that come 'bout?"
'A fiend that preys on children and uses them as undead thralls.' Sandu replied. There was an undertone of anger to his flat voice. 'We destroyed it.'
He turned his attention back to Rudolph. 'You mentioned Isolde Von Zarovich, the carnival mistress. Is she related to Strahd? Are we caught between a family feud?'
Sandu - Van Richten sighs. "A family feud of sorts. Isolde was able to flee Barovia and her several-times great uncle's wrath," he explains. "Though I must admit that I do not know how far and wide the Von Zarovich line stretches, I should not imagine very far given Strahd's penchant for familicide. Yet another reason why this land much be freed from his tyranny -- should we need any more."
Galqarin - Perhaps surprisingly, Van Richten's eyes soften. Patting you on the back he says, "it was a good guise, wasn't it? Fear not, I can scarcely travel around Barovia as Van Richten." His form shimmers and his appearance once more is that of Rictavio.
"Well it seems like we have our next destination." Dadeveth says with a frown, her tail swishing a bit nervously. She looks to her companions, then back to the tower's master. "Is there anyone we can contact for aid if we need it?" She asks, thinking of those were ravens he had mentioned previously. "While you will be traveling in disguise, it is far harder to hide the likes of us, so we will be a very likely target for this land's master. Having some idea of who we can contact, if we get in trouble, would be helpful."
Sandu - Van Richten sighs. "A family feud of sorts. Isolde was able to flee Barovia and her several-times great uncle's wrath," he explains. "Though I must admit that I do not know how far and wide the Von Zarovich line stretches, I should not imagine very far given Strahd's penchant for familicide. Yet another reason why this land much be freed from his tyranny -- should we need any more."
'So it is possible to leave Barovia.'Sandu's ears perked up at the notion of possible escape. The family aspect was intriguing as well. Were the three new additions sent by a bitter family member seeking to depose Strahd and take power for their own? It would not be the first time that kin slayed kin in a bid for dominance. It might be an interesting angle to work. Anything that could give them an edge for things to come would warrant its own consideration.
"Well it seems like we have our next destination." Dadeveth says with a frown, her tail swishing a bit nervously. She looks to her companions, then back to the tower's master. "Is there anyone we can contact for aid if we need it?" She asks, thinking of those were ravens he had mentioned previously. "While you will be traveling in disguise, it is far harder to hide the likes of us, so we will be a very likely target for this land's master. Having some idea of who we can contact, if we get in trouble, would be helpful."
Sandu turned to the centauress. Her words spurred another recalling of Madam Eva's cryptic statements. 'Find the leader of the feathered ones who live among the vines. Though old, he has one more fight left in him.' He said to her.
'Perchance this is the wereraven you speak of?'Sandu asked Dallid. He did not know what to make of a wereraven. The only subject he knew about people changing into animals starting with "were" were werewolves and those were never good news. He would not be surprised if but began to fear that Barovia ran the entire gamut of vampires, werewolves, zombies, and other nasty things that went bump in the night and had no love for anything living or good.
'Uhm,'Sandu scratched his head, 'what does living among vines mean?'
Dadeveth - "The ravens are the key,"Rictavio with a grin. "Not only are a number of the larger ones wereravens, but even the common raven can convey short, brief messages to each other. The Martikov family can be trusted. If your need becomes desperate they should be sought out at the Wizard of the Wines winery and vineyard, to the South of Krezk. The Martikov's will know how to get a message to me."
A hint of sadness creeps into the man's eyes. "Of course, their number is much diminished since last night's events,"he says bleakly. You recall the swathes of dead ravens at the Morning Gate as you entered Vallaki.
Sandu - Rictavio scratches the back of his head. "It is possible, yes,"he explains, "I entered Barovia with the assistance of a Vistani. Of course, he was unaware of who I was."
"Yan,"gasps Ezmerelda.
"Ahh, yes," Rictavio shifts uncomfortably, "he saw me as a mark. He had been bringing the unexpecting into Barovia, only to steal from them and leave them desperate and penniless, stranded in this place. How many people fell victim to his greed and thievery is unknown."
"Some Vistani can leave Barovia at will, though it is generally those loyal to Strahd. Otherwise, I am afraid we are quite stuck."
“Very well we will continue to kezk. If you don’t mind Van Richten if you find a wizard with a metal arm please let me know. He stole something precious from me and I need to get it back,” says Dormark bowing his head politely before leaving the tower.
Dormark - Rictavio nods at your request. "Certainly - I'll tell the Keepers of the Feather to keep an eye out for one matching your description. Are you able to provide any further details about this wizard? Which arm was lost?" He thinks for a moment. "Could it be that he has disguised himself? I've heard people are prone to doing that around here,"he says with a grin.
"It was his left arm; I should know because I bite it off in retribution for what he did to me. There isn't much else I can give you. He wore robes that obscured most of his features. He does have a nasty habit of... performing dissections on creatures that interest him. I would assume he would like a setup that would allow him to do that," says Dormark as he pauses, he looks at the group for a second seeing if he could trust them. He had some familiar friends and some newer faces as well in this group... but they were willing to fight against vampires with him so what more could he ask.
"He is also carrying around a powerful artifact of Moradin. A piece of his godly power. It takes form as an endlessly burning flame inside a metal casing. I was owner and guardian of the artifact before it stolen. It is called the Breath of Moradin," says Dormark.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Mid-Afternoon - Day 7 - Cruising to Krezk
It is an unusually bright day in Barovia as the party departs Van Richten's tower. Birdsong fills the sky and somehow even the mist feels less intrusive. Perhaps it is the knowledge that there are others in the land fighting Strahd's occupation ((or perhaps it is the DMs low rolls on the encounter table)), either way, the mood of the group seems to have lightened a little.
"What a curious man that was,"declares Ireena, still undecided about what to think of the enigmatic Van Richten.
"Quite so,"Ismark agrees, "still good to know that he is on our side. A bona fide Vampire Hunter. No wonder the Count wants to be rid of him."
Baern, who up until this point had been wistfully silent, sighs heavily to himself. "What's the matter, Baern?" Ireena enquires.
"It's jus'..."Baern struggles for words, "my ma. She would've travelled this very road. Not sure when, or who with, bu' she'd 'ave walked where I am walkin' now." He allows himself a brief smile. "Makes me feel a li'l closer ta her, y'know?"
Ireena gives Baern a side hug, causing the dwarf to turn a beetroot red. "Oh Baern, I am sure you'll find her, or a clue to where she is, in Krezk," she says. "I've got a good feeling about the place. I cannot explain it but I feel that something significant is supposed to happen there."
Looking a little uncomfortable, Ismark quickly changes the topic. "What's that over yonder?" he asks, clearing his throat.
Raven River Crossroads
In front, a weatherworn signpost next to the road. The three arms of the sign point along the three branches of the road. The arm pointing north reads Krezk, and through the woods you can see an arching stone bridge spanning a river. The arm pointing east, the direction from which the party approaches, reads Vallaki. The arm pointing southwest reads The Wizard of Wines. The road slopes gently downward in that direction.
"Krezk!"Ismark announces, "looks like we are not far off now."
Further DM Rolls:
19
That'd be a nope.
Krezk
After around 2 hours of travel, the road branches north and climbs a rocky escarpment, ending at a gatehouse built into a twenty-foot-high wall of stone reinforced with buttresses every fifty feet or so. The wall encloses a settlement on the side of a snow-dusted mountain spur. Beyond the wall, you see the tops of snow-covered pines and thin, white wisps of smoke. The sombre toll of a bell comes from a stone abbey that clings to the mountainside high above the settlement. The steady chime is inviting — a welcome change from the deathly silence and oppressive fog to which you have grown accustomed. It’s hard to tell at this distance, but there seems to be a switchback road clinging to the cliffs that lead up from the walled settlement to the abbey.
The air grows colder as the party approaches the walled settlement. Two square towers with peaked roofs flank a stone archway into which is set a pair of twelve-foot-tall, ironbound wooden doors. Carved into the arch above the doors is a name: Krezk.
The walls that extend from the gatehouse are twenty feet high. Four figures huddle around the gate, wearing worn plate armour and clutching spears. They watch you nervously.
"Halt! Who goes there?!"one of the men shouts, his voice hoarse, his face heavily scarred. "What business do you have in Krezk?"
Wandering along through the comparatively upbeat morning, Cerio often looks back over his shoulder, half expecting some ghoul or ghostie to leap from behind a tree and lunge for his neck. The bite marks haven't fully healed, and he touches them delicately when no one's looking.
He looks longingly down the path toward the Wizard of Wines. "A little draught wouldn't hurt nothin', would't? We'll have ta visit a spell as soon as we's done'n Krezk. Not ta mention, them Martikov's is apparently a helpful bunch."
Halted by the town guards, Cerio casually drops his hand nearer his weapon hilt. "What business do we have here?"Cerio whispers aloud.
The guards share questioning looks. "I-I dunno, tha's why I asked," the lead guard says, clearly confused at the question. "We're su'posed to be keepin' a lookout for any wrong'uns, ill-sorts, or mis-cre-ants, y'ain't none o'those is ya?"
Almost comically at this point, their hands also go to their weapons, like some wild west standoff. "Oi! H-hands where we can see 'em."
"A wizard? Do you have any more info on this individual," asks Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dallid smiles. "Were ravens! It makes sense now, the raven that had been acting strange on the road... Oh dear, I believe I tried to collect it. I hope they won't hold it against me."
"So what do you expect in Krezk that's more valuable than this wizard?"
Paladin - warforged - orange
Dormark - "Not much, I'm afraid." Van Richten explains. "Scattered reports have been received about a wild mage that has been spotted around Mount Baratok. I mean to find him and convince him to take up arms against Strahd. Though reports mention that he may not be of sound mind... I would not send yourselves as a delusional wild mage can be quite the danger." He chuckles.
Dallid - "An astute question," Van Richten says, smiling. "Other than the possible discovery of the forces that potentially turned Ioben? I have heard rumours of a powerful being currently residing at the Abbey of Saint Markovia - who this person is and the role they play is unknown to me. Finally, I have heard that tragedy has recently struck the Burgomaster of Krezk. It might be worth investigating what, or rather who, is behind this tragedy. Krezk has often been far-removed from Castle Ravenloft and the affairs of Strahd, perhaps things are changing."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dallid frowns. "I find this strange. Combined with what the lady Isolde told us, it sounds as though Strahd may be losing his grip to other evil powers... And yet, by acting as we do, we may assist him in reasserting control. Is this wise?"
Paladin - warforged - orange
Dallid - Van Richten's face looks grim. "That is a risk," he says, bluntly. "However, if these powers are, at least for a time, disunified, it may afford us an opportunity to strike. One thing is for sure, more answers are required. Answers I believe Krezk holds."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Sandu took the metamorphosis of flamboyant Rictavio into dour Rudolph Van Richten rather well. If he was surprised he did not show it. He sadly noted that he would be surprised should he had been surprised. That is what Barovia did to him: it sucked out the joy and wonder of those who dwelled within its borders. Was this the connection between Strahd and Barovia when he proclaimed himself I am the land ? Just as Strahd sucked the life out of a person, the land sucked the soul out of the people. So Rictavio was not who he seemed at first glance. Sandu figured the amount of people who were could be counted on less than ten fingers in this forsaken land.
'A fiend that preys on children and uses them as undead thralls.' Sandu replied. There was an undertone of anger to his flat voice. 'We destroyed it.'
He turned his attention back to Rudolph. 'You mentioned Isolde Von Zarovich, the carnival mistress. Is she related to Strahd? Are we caught between a family feud?'
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
"You still Rictavio to me", says Galqarin simply.
Sandu - Van Richten sighs. "A family feud of sorts. Isolde was able to flee Barovia and her several-times great uncle's wrath," he explains. "Though I must admit that I do not know how far and wide the Von Zarovich line stretches, I should not imagine very far given Strahd's penchant for familicide. Yet another reason why this land much be freed from his tyranny -- should we need any more."
Galqarin - Perhaps surprisingly, Van Richten's eyes soften. Patting you on the back he says, "it was a good guise, wasn't it? Fear not, I can scarcely travel around Barovia as Van Richten." His form shimmers and his appearance once more is that of Rictavio.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"Well it seems like we have our next destination." Dadeveth says with a frown, her tail swishing a bit nervously. She looks to her companions, then back to the tower's master. "Is there anyone we can contact for aid if we need it?" She asks, thinking of those were ravens he had mentioned previously. "While you will be traveling in disguise, it is far harder to hide the likes of us, so we will be a very likely target for this land's master. Having some idea of who we can contact, if we get in trouble, would be helpful."
'So it is possible to leave Barovia.' Sandu's ears perked up at the notion of possible escape. The family aspect was intriguing as well. Were the three new additions sent by a bitter family member seeking to depose Strahd and take power for their own? It would not be the first time that kin slayed kin in a bid for dominance. It might be an interesting angle to work. Anything that could give them an edge for things to come would warrant its own consideration.
Sandu turned to the centauress. Her words spurred another recalling of Madam Eva's cryptic statements. 'Find the leader of the feathered ones who live among the vines. Though old, he has one more fight left in him.' He said to her.
'Perchance this is the wereraven you speak of?' Sandu asked Dallid. He did not know what to make of a wereraven. The only subject he knew about people changing into animals starting with "were" were werewolves and those were never good news. He would not be surprised if but began to fear that Barovia ran the entire gamut of vampires, werewolves, zombies, and other nasty things that went bump in the night and had no love for anything living or good.
'Uhm,' Sandu scratched his head, 'what does living among vines mean?'
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Dadeveth - "The ravens are the key," Rictavio with a grin. "Not only are a number of the larger ones wereravens, but even the common raven can convey short, brief messages to each other. The Martikov family can be trusted. If your need becomes desperate they should be sought out at the Wizard of the Wines winery and vineyard, to the South of Krezk. The Martikov's will know how to get a message to me."
A hint of sadness creeps into the man's eyes. "Of course, their number is much diminished since last night's events," he says bleakly. You recall the swathes of dead ravens at the Morning Gate as you entered Vallaki.
Sandu - Rictavio scratches the back of his head. "It is possible, yes," he explains, "I entered Barovia with the assistance of a Vistani. Of course, he was unaware of who I was."
"Yan," gasps Ezmerelda.
"Ahh, yes," Rictavio shifts uncomfortably, "he saw me as a mark. He had been bringing the unexpecting into Barovia, only to steal from them and leave them desperate and penniless, stranded in this place. How many people fell victim to his greed and thievery is unknown."
"Some Vistani can leave Barovia at will, though it is generally those loyal to Strahd. Otherwise, I am afraid we are quite stuck."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
“Very well we will continue to kezk. If you don’t mind Van Richten if you find a wizard with a metal arm please let me know. He stole something precious from me and I need to get it back,” says Dormark bowing his head politely before leaving the tower.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dormark - Rictavio nods at your request. "Certainly - I'll tell the Keepers of the Feather to keep an eye out for one matching your description. Are you able to provide any further details about this wizard? Which arm was lost?" He thinks for a moment. "Could it be that he has disguised himself? I've heard people are prone to doing that around here," he says with a grin.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"kezk it is then." Dadeveth agrees. She begins looking through her gear, making sure she is ready to travel again.
"It was his left arm; I should know because I bite it off in retribution for what he did to me. There isn't much else I can give you. He wore robes that obscured most of his features. He does have a nasty habit of... performing dissections on creatures that interest him. I would assume he would like a setup that would allow him to do that," says Dormark as he pauses, he looks at the group for a second seeing if he could trust them. He had some familiar friends and some newer faces as well in this group... but they were willing to fight against vampires with him so what more could he ask.
"He is also carrying around a powerful artifact of Moradin. A piece of his godly power. It takes form as an endlessly burning flame inside a metal casing. I was owner and guardian of the artifact before it stolen. It is called the Breath of Moradin," says Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dallid writes in his book as Dormark speaks, asking for a description of this man and the casing so he can try to draw them in the book
Paladin - warforged - orange
DM rolls:
1, 14, 5, 13
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Mid-Afternoon - Day 7 - Cruising to Krezk
It is an unusually bright day in Barovia as the party departs Van Richten's tower. Birdsong fills the sky and somehow even the mist feels less intrusive. Perhaps it is the knowledge that there are others in the land fighting Strahd's occupation ((or perhaps it is the DMs low rolls on the encounter table)), either way, the mood of the group seems to have lightened a little.
"What a curious man that was," declares Ireena, still undecided about what to think of the enigmatic Van Richten.
"Quite so," Ismark agrees, "still good to know that he is on our side. A bona fide Vampire Hunter. No wonder the Count wants to be rid of him."
Baern, who up until this point had been wistfully silent, sighs heavily to himself. "What's the matter, Baern?" Ireena enquires.
"It's jus'..." Baern struggles for words, "my ma. She would've travelled this very road. Not sure when, or who with, bu' she'd 'ave walked where I am walkin' now." He allows himself a brief smile. "Makes me feel a li'l closer ta her, y'know?"
Ireena gives Baern a side hug, causing the dwarf to turn a beetroot red. "Oh Baern, I am sure you'll find her, or a clue to where she is, in Krezk," she says. "I've got a good feeling about the place. I cannot explain it but I feel that something significant is supposed to happen there."
Looking a little uncomfortable, Ismark quickly changes the topic. "What's that over yonder?" he asks, clearing his throat.
Raven River Crossroads
In front, a weatherworn signpost next to the road. The three arms of the sign point along the three branches of the road. The arm pointing north reads Krezk, and through the woods you can see an arching stone bridge spanning a river. The arm pointing east, the direction from which the party approaches, reads Vallaki. The arm pointing southwest reads The Wizard of Wines. The road slopes gently downward in that direction.
"Krezk!" Ismark announces, "looks like we are not far off now."
Further DM Rolls:
19
That'd be a nope.
Krezk
After around 2 hours of travel, the road branches north and climbs a rocky escarpment, ending at a gatehouse built into a twenty-foot-high wall of stone reinforced with buttresses every fifty feet or so. The wall encloses a settlement on the side of a snow-dusted mountain spur. Beyond the wall, you see the tops of snow-covered pines and thin, white wisps of smoke. The sombre toll of a bell comes from a stone abbey that clings to the mountainside high above the settlement. The steady chime is inviting — a welcome change from the deathly silence and oppressive fog to which you have grown accustomed. It’s hard to tell at this distance, but there seems to be a switchback road clinging to the cliffs that lead up from the walled settlement to the abbey.
The air grows colder as the party approaches the walled settlement. Two square towers with peaked roofs flank a stone archway into which is set a pair of twelve-foot-tall, ironbound wooden doors. Carved into the arch above the doors is a name: Krezk.
The walls that extend from the gatehouse are twenty feet high. Four figures huddle around the gate, wearing worn plate armour and clutching spears. They watch you nervously.
"Halt! Who goes there?!" one of the men shouts, his voice hoarse, his face heavily scarred. "What business do you have in Krezk?"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Wandering along through the comparatively upbeat morning, Cerio often looks back over his shoulder, half expecting some ghoul or ghostie to leap from behind a tree and lunge for his neck. The bite marks haven't fully healed, and he touches them delicately when no one's looking.
He looks longingly down the path toward the Wizard of Wines. "A little draught wouldn't hurt nothin', would't? We'll have ta visit a spell as soon as we's done'n Krezk. Not ta mention, them Martikov's is apparently a helpful bunch."
Halted by the town guards, Cerio casually drops his hand nearer his weapon hilt. "What business do we have here?" Cerio whispers aloud.
The guards share questioning looks. "I-I dunno, tha's why I asked," the lead guard says, clearly confused at the question. "We're su'posed to be keepin' a lookout for any wrong'uns, ill-sorts, or mis-cre-ants, y'ain't none o'those is ya?"
Almost comically at this point, their hands also go to their weapons, like some wild west standoff. "Oi! H-hands where we can see 'em."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)