> 'We seek Galqarin.' Sandu said. He tried to speak with authority, to mask the tremble in his voice. He turned to Dormark and whispered. 'Be on your guard. This woman is more than she appears.'
Night (12:07 pm) - Day 8 - The Atrocity Exhibition
As you catch up with Maribelle Dubois and the other guests, you can feel an eerie energy pulsating from her being. With one forceful strike of the gong, it lets out a deafening metallic screech that pierces through your ears and shakes your bones. Maribelle's face is twisted with excitement, and her aura is wild and feral, hinting at a darkness that lies within her.
The gallery room is unsettling, with eight veiled paintings hanging on the walls and a large exhibit in the south shut away in an enormous elaborately carved case - the carvings, similar to the paintings upstairs, appear to depict corpses in a state of either ecstasy or pain, or perhaps both. The thick air is suffused with the scent of incense, and the music coming from the animated piano is sombre, evoking a sense of impending doom. On the wall, next to the piano, a pentagram has been drawn, decorated with intricate symbols and contained within a dark circle, amplifying the ominous atmosphere. Foul runic language, which none of you comprehends, is scrawled within the pentagram. If you had not already experienced several odd events in the mansion, the room would seem almost performative in its horror as if designed to evoke fear in the unsuspecting.
The moment the last of the guests set foot within the gallery, a sound of finality echoed through the chamber - the thud of the doors closing and the turn of a key. The light in the room seemed to take on a peculiar character, shimmering and flickering with an ethereal and rusty shade. It is a strange sight to behold, causing some to gasp, while others applauded or exchanged nervous whispers, assuming the light change to be a part of the spectacle.
Painting #1 - The Prison Painting
"Please, friends, don't be alarmed,"Maribelle says. "My husband and I have gone to great lengths to make this occasion memorable."You note that Anthony Dubois is shifting uncomfortably. Moving swiftly to the painting closest to the door, Maribelle pulls back the veil, revealing Vasquelin's first painting.
Painting #1 - The Prison
"Behold, the first painting of our exhibition: a masterpiece titled The Prison,"Maribelle exclaims with fervour. "Observe the visage of our illustrious lord, Strahd Von Zarovich, captured in his youthful years. His imposing form is flanked by the lifeless husks of his victims, a testament to his ruthless dominion over these lands."
She continues with a sly grin, "Take heed of the moon that encircles his head - a halo, some say, a divine benediction upon him. Others believe it to be a mere ornament, a visual trick to enhance the grim portrait. But I ask you, dear guests, what is art without its mysteries?"
Many of the guests cannot restrain their gasps and hushed whispers at the unveiling of the first painting. Eagerly, they shuffle closer to behold the artwork in all its macabre glory.
Painting #2 - The Coupling
Moving swiftly on to the next painting, eager to show off her collection, Maribelle pulls the veil from the hefty frame.
Painting #2 - The Coupling
"The second masterpiece of our collection, dear guests, is none other than The Coupling. A shaded boudoir reveals dishevelled linen, desolated bottles of wine, and spoiled remnants of food, where a couple lingers in the aftermath of their intimate embrace. Observe the meticulous portrayal of the wine bottle, indicating the treasured vineyard of Barovia - The Wizard of Wines. It is a widely held belief that the gentleman portrayed is no more than a cadaver, a sombre reminder of Strahd's transcendence above the mundane lusts of the flesh and his supreme control over the realm." Disturbingly, you can't shake the unsettling feeling that Maribelle's words were carefully crafted, the result of many rehearsals. It was as if she not only believed the preposterous ideas she was spouting but also relished the act of doing so.
Painting #3 - The Wanderer
Arriving at the third painting, Maribelle tears down its veil, exposing the painting beneath.
Painting #3 - The Wanderer
"The Wanderer,"Maribelle introduces the third painting. "A masterful display of Vauquelin's vivid imagination. Enveloped by the glimmering moonlight, a cloaked wanderer trudges through the vast snowdrifts, determinedly seeking a place of great power that remains shrouded in mystery. Behold the majestic mountains that loom in the distance, crowned by an imposing temple whose massive obelisk pierces the sky. Many speculate that the mysterious figure is on a sacred pilgrimage, but the truth remains elusive, leaving the viewer lost in a maze of enigmatic wonder."
Painting #4 - The Three Angels
"Intriguingly, the fourth masterpiece showcases a youthful lad, his outstretched hand reaching for three angels. There are those who speculate that this might signify a solemn covenant between a valiant champion and the divine hosts, while others insist that, akin to its forerunners, this piece portrays Strahd's ordeal of losing his dear kin, including both of his parents."
Maribelle unveils the painting with a dramatic flourish, but her expression turns to a feigned sorrow as if she is relishing in the tragedy that it represents. "A sorrowful tale indeed, a loss that struck the very heart of our land," she says, her voice dripping with insincerity.
Painting #4 - The Three Angels
Painting #5 - Fool's Wisdom
As Maribelle drifts from painting to painting, the hushed but excited buzz of conversations stirs among the guests. They cluster around each artwork she had revealed thus far, eagerly taking in every brushstroke and hue. It is evident that the artistic mastery on display has captivated the assembled party, and it seems that each of Maribelle's revelations left them increasingly spellbound.
Pulling the veil from the fifth painting, Maribelle's smile broadens. "Ahh yes, the Fool's Wisdom," she declares.
Painting #5 - Fool's Wisdom
The macabre artwork portrays a man laid bare, his entrails being proffered to a celestial being. The fiery inferno in the painting's background adds a ghastly and infernal ambience to the piece. "The nature of the dark bargain made within the image is unknown, with many believing it represents a death to self-righteousness."
Painting #6 - Ardens Autumnus
Eager to reveal the remaining paintings, Maribelle goes through the last three in quick succession.
"The macabre painting at hand is said to be of Vauqelin himself," she explains, revealing the sixth painting. "The ghastly figures seen dancing behind him have intrigued and disturbed many observers. Some speculate that these figures embody the common folk of Barovia, while others believe the truth is bleaker still - that they are demonic entities that haunted the artist's mind."
Painting #6 - Ardens Autumnus
"Could it be that those dancing behind Vauquelin represent his critics? Unfortunately, it shall remain an enigma, for the painter himself has long departed this world."
Painting #7 - The Feast of Ignorance
"Behold, the seventh painting, set amidst the treacherous catacombs of Castle Ravenloft. It is widely believed that this painting foreshadows the end of the Von Zarovich dynasty, yet some whisper of faint hope. The enigmatic figure on the left, surrounded by a holy aura, is thought to represent a prodigal son, a long-lost heir of the Von Zarovich bloodline who may one day return and claim Strahd's throne. Only time will reveal the truth hidden within this haunting masterpiece."
Painting #7 - The Feast of Ignorance
Painting #8 - Triumphator
Maribelle's grin widens as she saunters towards the final painting, her words dripping with a morbid delight. "And now, my guests, I present to you Death,"she proclaims, yanking the veil away to reveal a haunting image of a haloed death looming over two intertwined lovers. The symbolism of darkness consuming the light is palpable. "Painted by Vauquelin just prior to his untimely demise, it portrays the ultimate victory of death over life," she explains with a tinge of somberness. "But see how the two figures in the foreground are still so strikingly beautiful, even in the face of death's cruel embrace. Is it not a testament to the enduring power of love? Or perhaps the images contain a different meaning."
Painting #8 - The Triumphator
"The final, crowning piece of the exhibition is soon to be revealed,"Maribelle declares, her voice carrying over the excited murmurs of the crowd. "In the meantime, enjoy the splendour before you. If there are any questions, I shall answer them to the best of my ability. I'm sure by now you've realised my intimate connection to Vauquelin's works." She signals for waiters carrying glasses of wine, and several guests eagerly grab them.
The air grows calmer, and Maribelle's demeanour has shifted from wild to almost mundane. It is as if the strange exhibition is nothing but a mere curiosity, rather than a macabre and twisted display. You cannot help but wonder if the true nature of the paintings is still hidden, waiting to be uncovered.
((Apologies for the wall of text. I thought, for the sake of brevity, I would reveal the majority of the paintings at once rather than drip-feeding them!))
You awaken to a throbbing head and a metallic tang in your mouth, your ears still ringing from the chaos that surrounds you.
You find yourself trapped in a cell. A battered man is chained to your left. His face is obscured by the poor lighting, and he's dressed in tattered rags. You can tell that he is unconscious.
Standing before you, just outside the cell, is Haribelle, now adorned with bat-like wings and tiny horns atop her head. The spell that once ensnared your mind has been broken, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts ((you are no longer charmed)). Your prideful arrogance was your downfall.
Around you, the sounds of horrifying screams echo through the chamber, mingling with cries for mercy and twisted moans of pleasure. It's a chorus of suffering that feels like it will never end.
The sound of anguished cries emanates from the neighbouring cell. A man huddles in the corner, his wails reverberating off the walls, he claws at his hair. "MAKE IT STOP!"he pleads, his voice thick with agony. You are certain that he is not aware of your presence. "Brother, please don't go! No, NO! BROTHER!" His body contorts violently, his spine snapping with a sickening crack. Blood splatters in a grotesque display, coalescing into twisted, malevolent runes that float in the air ((you cannot decipher what they say)).
Haribelle stands with her back turned to you, a coldness in her voice that belies her former kindness. "Fear not,"she intones,"He is not yet gone. Do you believe She would allow him to perish while there is still so much suffering left to give?"
'Those painting, this setting, Sandu, Dallid, their is something very dark about this Gallery. Something is weird as well with the paintings. Do see how many figures have a form a light around their head. Why would the artist draw so many pieces in a similar way," asks Dormark.
Survival instincts kicking in, Galqarin will remain silent and still as if still unconscious, whilst surveying the scene through narrowed eyes.
((How far is Harribelle from the cage? If within his 10' reach, and the bars are sufficiently spaced to allow his arms egress, Galqarin would attempt to sneak up to the bars, reach through and try to strangle her. If this appears feasible, I'll make the necessary rolls.))
Dallid leans in close to Dormark to whisper: "I haven't had a chance to tell you this til now. I believe I have Vauquellin's hand in my bag. He still writes, and is quite mad. But might be able to tell us about these paintings. I think we should find Galqarin first. Where is he?"
Sandu walked around the room inspecting each painting as it was unveiled. With every new painting shown, the more it lived up to its name of the Atrocity Exhibition. Sandu was not much of an art connoisseur, he much preferred useful and practical things, but even with his layman eyes he could tell that the quality was indeed of the highest form. Said impression was drowned out however by the encroaching thought that if anyone back home - Sandu was still fully committed to getting out of Barovia - would hang these on their walls, they would be hanged by a mob for being devil worshippers.
Sandu meticulously kept stock of what Lady Dubois had to say of each painting. The way she told it made it sound like each painting had some connection to Strahd, almost to a biographical degree. He would need to check with the history book and Tome of Stradh in his possession later to verify any of the claims she made but should it be so, perchance the paintings held a clue to Strahd's life and, but perhaps Sandu was hoping too much, his weaknesses should there be any.
He took another stroll around the room to view the painting once more in order.
'Those painting, this setting, Sandu, Dallid, their is something very dark about this Gallery. Something is weird as well with the paintings. Do see how many figures have a form a light around their head. Why would the artist draw so many pieces in a similar way," asks Dormark.
'Good question.'Sandu mused when he passed by Dormark. 'I know that some depictions of holy people add this sort of halo around their head to signify their link to the divine. Also Lathander, or the Morning Lord as he is called here, is often depicted with the radiant sun as a crown. Though I'm pretty sure Strahd is neither holy nor a sun worshipper.'
He kept mulling over what he knew of Barovia and Strahd in his mind at each painting. 'I have some ideas.'Sandu rold Dormark. 'Well, I have some inklings of an idea or two but nothing concrete. Yet.'The last word was said with the clear intention of deciphering any and all meaning behind the art pieces. 'I must admit I am curious to this final piece and how it ties it all together.'
He locked eyes with the warforged. 'But Galqarin's absence is a more pressing matter.'
Sandu then decided on something that he had never willingly done before: talk to the authorities.
'Pardon me, my lady.'He addressed the Lady Dubois and turned on the charm. 'I simply must commend you for such a lovely introduction to the finer arts. Though I confess I find myself unable to fully enjoy the occasion. It pains me to say this but one of my friends has not yet had the chance to enjoy your exhibition. I fear one of the other guests might have absconded with him and is now dilly-dallying through your abode. I so do hate for him to miss such an exquisite evening of splendor and elegance, especially with the unveiling of the final piece. Do you perchance spot any other guest that is missing?'
You sneak up to the bars of the cell and reaching through you grab at the unsuspecting Haribelle.
Please make a [Tooltip Not Found] check (DC 15). On a success, you can [Tooltip Not Found] Haribelle where she stands. Otherwise, be prepared to make an opposed grapple check.
Sandu - Lady Dubois scans the exhibition, seemingly lost in thought. "What was that, my dear?"she asks, still in a daze. "Indeed, Guy's paintings speak for themselves. I am relieved that the unfortunate incident earlier did not taint the event."
"I am sorry about your missing friend. Maybe he is taking a nap somewhere in the house,"she says, dismissively. "Nonetheless, a few other guests are also missing. I presume they are presently indulging in our hospitality elsewhere in the mansion," she adds with a heavy sigh. "I had hoped that Rahadin would be here to witness the unveiling, though it seems that he has taken his leave," she laments.
"Let your friend enjoy the festivities, my dear. The final piece will be revealed in due course." With that, she strides towards the last piece in the exhibition, the triptych.
All - You watch as Lady Dubois goes to the crowning piece of the exhibition, showing no patience for any stragglers. "Without further ado, let me present the centerpiece of this exhibition -- The Tears of Lysaga. Anthony, my dear, will you do the honour?"
Anthony Dubois approaches the front, his nerves evident in his trembling hands. "Y-yes, of c-course,"he stammers, producing a key from his pocket and unlocking the final trio of paintings. He strains with all his might, he pushes open the ornate case's doors and unveils the painting that lies within.
The Tears of Lysaga
Once more, the lights flicker, casting an eerie glow over the exhibition. The paintings within the case seem to pulse with otherworldly energy, their colors blending and shifting, emanating an unseen power. The triptych looms over the crowd, its left and right panels depict two roads - one light and the other dark - snaking over two citadels. The middle panel depicts a spring of death; a bone-white fountain that overflows with black ichor. A tall, dark figure is visible beyond the spring, cloaked in shadows, and her face is etched with age.
The other guests, captivated by the triptych's allure, swarm around it like moths to a flame. A collective gasp of astonishment echoes through the room, as the colors of the paintings, shift, and swirl, the pigments coming to life before their very eyes, and imbuing the scenes with an eerie, almost tangible reality.
In a sudden, frenzied burst, Lady Maribelle Dubois produces a black knife from the shadows behind the triptych. Her eyes are wild and frenzied, and her lips peel back in a twisted grin as she lunges forward. The steel plunges deep into her husband's flesh, eliciting a sickening crunch and a gush of crimson. Anthony Dubois's face contorts in agony as he locks eyes with his wife, who shows no signs of remorse. With a savage twist, she wrenches the blade out, only to plunge it in again and again, each thrust more brutal and blood-drenched than the last.
The stunned guests, many believing this to be part of the show, watch in horror as Maribelle's brutal act sends blood splattering across the triptych. The canvas seems to drink in the crimson fluid, its dark pigments pulsating with a newfound intensity. The central fountain, overflowing with black ichor, glows and surges with an otherworldly power as if the very essence of the scene were being consumed by the painting.
A sickly sweet scent of burning copper fills the air, and a sense of foreboding descends upon the room. The once-beautiful paintings begin to decay before the onlookers' very eyes, their intricate details peeling away to reveal a grotesque and twisted reality lurking just beneath the surface. Candles flicker and gutter out, casting the room into a murky darkness that seems to seep into the very souls of those present. At that moment, it becomes clear that something unspeakably evil has been unleashed and there is no going back.
As the darkness envelops you, you feel a cold sweat trickling down your spine. The screams around you grow louder, piercing through the void and echoing in your ears. You realise that the horror unfolding before you is not a mere act, but a sinister reality. With each passing second, the screams intensify, and you fear that the next one might be your own. The air is thick with an oppressive weight, and you can sense something lurking in the darkness, something malevolent and hungry. You strain your eyes to pierce through the veil of darkness, but there is nothing to see, only the sounds of chaos and destruction growing louder by the moment.
"Here,"the hiss was sharp, devoid of empathy. "Come with me if you want to live!" You vaguely make out Rahadin's form in the darkness, he is urgently beckoning you to follow him.
I'm going to hazard it a guess it was Stealth and Attack respectively. I'll make the rolls based on this assumption, including an Athletics check just in case.
Your rage is unleashed, an unrelenting force that you had thought long gone. The thought of being at the mercy of such a vile being as Haribelle stirs a primal fury within you. You seethe with anger at the realisation that she had used your natural protective instincts to deceive and manipulate you. Without warning, you lunge at her, grabbing her by the throat through the cold metal bars of her cell. The grip of your fingers tightens, holding her in place.
But your attack does not stop there. The fury within you demands more. Your hands claw and tear at her exposed wings, ripping through skin and muscle with a sickening sound. Blood and ichor spray in all directions, coating your face and clothing. Haribelle tries to scream, but your powerful grip silences her desperate cries. The sound of bones cracking echoes through the dungeon as you continue your relentless assault, fueled by a dark and savage rage.
Haribelle Initiative: 5 (Oof!)
Haribelle's eyes bulge in terror as she lets out a high-pitched whimper. Her body convulses under the force of your assault, her limbs twisted and contorted in unnatural angles. Blood gushes from her broken nose and split lips, and her face is almost unrecognisable as human. The sight of her battered body makes your stomach churn with a mix of disgust and satisfaction. You revel in the power you hold over her, the power of life and death. It seems that Haribelle's consciousness is slipping away, her laboured breaths growing shallower by the second. You wonder if she will survive this brutal assault, or if she will finally succumb to the darkness that surrounds her. How do you proceed?
The primal desires within him awakened, Galqarin seeks no less than the ultimate destruction of this cruel fiend before him. His face contorts into a wicked grimace at the twist of fate that led the controlled to become the controller, and controller to be the controlled. "Your evil ends now", he declares in a voice devoid of emotion.
Grabbing Sandu, Dormark pushes him towards Rahadin yelling, "Run if you want to live!" Dormark will follow in the back of the group putting his body between them and what may be lurking out in the dark.
Continuing your relentless attack, Haribelle does not put up much of a fight. Blood and gore fly as you continue to pound on Haribelle, driven by a primal rage that consumes you completely. Her body writhes under your brutal assault, each impact reverberating through her shattered form. Despite her attempts to resist, it's clear that she's quickly losing the strength to fight back.
Her eyes, once filled with malice and hatred, now plead for mercy as she gasps for air, struggling to hold onto consciousness. But your fury is unquenchable, and you show no mercy to this creature who has caused so much pain and suffering.
Finally, with one last guttural scream, Haribelle goes limp in your grasp. The only sounds now are the ragged breaths escaping your heaving chest and the sickening squelch of her broken body hitting the ground.
"Wh-what are you?" a familiar voice sounds from behind, though it is weak and trembling. "You can torture me all you like. Y-you'll get nothing!" The words are choked out of the shackled man's mouth, his voice barely audible through the ragged breathing. Looking up, you catch a glimpse of his face. It is swollen and disfigured, his eyes barely visible through the mud and the caked blood. The sight of his tortured body makes your heart sink, and you can feel your own pain and desperation welling up inside.
"Gal?"the man says, his voice cracking with desperation and tears streaming down his bloodied face. It is then that you recognise Ioben, his features nearly unrecognisable from the bruises and cuts that mar his once handsome face.
Dallid and Ferelyon, quickly followed by Dormark carrying Sandu, rush off to Rahadin's position. The dusk elf appears to have been lightly wounded and he clutches at this side. As you race through the mansion, it is as if you have entered a new realm of nightmare - much like the content of one of Vauquelin's paintings. The walls have crumbled away in parts, exposing pulsating masses of red flesh, and the air is thick with the stench of death. The flickering lights cast a sickly green hue over everything, revealing gruesome details you wish you could unsee.
Ushering you through into a nearby room, the size of a closet, Rahadin slams the door shut behind you. He eyes Dallid. "It looks like whatever force is behind this has played their hand," he says through breaths, his voice strained. "There are other entities, ancient and malevolent, that seek to dominate Barovia. They care not for the living, only for their own twisted desires. And, seemingly, they have set their sights on you."
As you converse with Rahadin, the agonised wails of those he has damned to death throughout the years assail your senses. The anguished cries of the tortured and slain reverberate through your mind, each one like a physical blow. Their voices seep into your consciousness, filling you with their pain and fury. They warn you of Rahadin's treachery, his deceitful nature, and they plead with you to avenge their torment.
"Let us not mince words, for I know that our history runs deep,"he says, his voice laced with a hint of menace. "But if we are to have any chance at surviving this hellish realm, we must put our differences aside and work together. Our goals are aligned, for we both seek to break free from this cursed place and destroy the wicked force that holds sway over it."
Dallid quotes one of the books of the library back home - it seems so long since he has seen it- and speaks softly as he tries to control his mind, assailed by the past. "'I know what you would say, and it would seem as wisdom but for the warning in my heart...' Rahadin, you have layed evil upon evil upon evil. If you wish for cooperation, you must do a little good for once in your terrible existence. Tell us of our friend Galqarin's location. You are a knowledgeable being. You must know something."
Dallid - Rahadin's lip curls up in a cynical sneer, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Fair, very fair,"he says, his voice lacking any hint of empathy. "Honestly, I do not know where your friend currently is. However, what I do know is that this place,"he gestures around at the twisted, infernal landscape that now dominates most of the mansion, "exists on a plane far different from Barovia. Whether it is some devilish underworld or shared nightmare, I cannot say for certain."
A sly grin spreads across his face. "Your bugbear friend was last seen with a companion, a woman with long red hair. It is my suspicion that this woman is not what she seems. An alluring beauty set out to whisk your friend off his feet? That matches the description of a particular type of fiend, does it not? Be careful, my friend. In this place, even the most innocent-looking creature can hide a dark, twisted soul."
Rahadin's voice drips with disdain as he continues. "I have reason to believe that the fiend you seek may be in league with the dark force that holds this realm in its grasp. And if we are to have any chance of escape, we must find a way to weaken its grip. Our first step should be to confront Maribelle. It was her actions that brought us to our current predicament, after all."
> 'We seek Galqarin.' Sandu said. He tried to speak with authority, to mask the tremble in his voice. He turned to Dormark and whispered. 'Be on your guard. This woman is more than she appears.'
Alas, poor Galqarin!
Night (12:07 pm) - Day 8 - The Atrocity Exhibition
As you catch up with Maribelle Dubois and the other guests, you can feel an eerie energy pulsating from her being. With one forceful strike of the gong, it lets out a deafening metallic screech that pierces through your ears and shakes your bones. Maribelle's face is twisted with excitement, and her aura is wild and feral, hinting at a darkness that lies within her.
The gallery room is unsettling, with eight veiled paintings hanging on the walls and a large exhibit in the south shut away in an enormous elaborately carved case - the carvings, similar to the paintings upstairs, appear to depict corpses in a state of either ecstasy or pain, or perhaps both. The thick air is suffused with the scent of incense, and the music coming from the animated piano is sombre, evoking a sense of impending doom. On the wall, next to the piano, a pentagram has been drawn, decorated with intricate symbols and contained within a dark circle, amplifying the ominous atmosphere. Foul runic language, which none of you comprehends, is scrawled within the pentagram. If you had not already experienced several odd events in the mansion, the room would seem almost performative in its horror as if designed to evoke fear in the unsuspecting.
The moment the last of the guests set foot within the gallery, a sound of finality echoed through the chamber - the thud of the doors closing and the turn of a key. The light in the room seemed to take on a peculiar character, shimmering and flickering with an ethereal and rusty shade. It is a strange sight to behold, causing some to gasp, while others applauded or exchanged nervous whispers, assuming the light change to be a part of the spectacle.
Painting #1 - The Prison Painting
"Please, friends, don't be alarmed," Maribelle says. "My husband and I have gone to great lengths to make this occasion memorable." You note that Anthony Dubois is shifting uncomfortably. Moving swiftly to the painting closest to the door, Maribelle pulls back the veil, revealing Vasquelin's first painting.
"Behold, the first painting of our exhibition: a masterpiece titled The Prison," Maribelle exclaims with fervour. "Observe the visage of our illustrious lord, Strahd Von Zarovich, captured in his youthful years. His imposing form is flanked by the lifeless husks of his victims, a testament to his ruthless dominion over these lands."
She continues with a sly grin, "Take heed of the moon that encircles his head - a halo, some say, a divine benediction upon him. Others believe it to be a mere ornament, a visual trick to enhance the grim portrait. But I ask you, dear guests, what is art without its mysteries?"
Many of the guests cannot restrain their gasps and hushed whispers at the unveiling of the first painting. Eagerly, they shuffle closer to behold the artwork in all its macabre glory.
Painting #2 - The Coupling
Moving swiftly on to the next painting, eager to show off her collection, Maribelle pulls the veil from the hefty frame.
"The second masterpiece of our collection, dear guests, is none other than The Coupling. A shaded boudoir reveals dishevelled linen, desolated bottles of wine, and spoiled remnants of food, where a couple lingers in the aftermath of their intimate embrace. Observe the meticulous portrayal of the wine bottle, indicating the treasured vineyard of Barovia - The Wizard of Wines. It is a widely held belief that the gentleman portrayed is no more than a cadaver, a sombre reminder of Strahd's transcendence above the mundane lusts of the flesh and his supreme control over the realm." Disturbingly, you can't shake the unsettling feeling that Maribelle's words were carefully crafted, the result of many rehearsals. It was as if she not only believed the preposterous ideas she was spouting but also relished the act of doing so.
Painting #3 - The Wanderer
Arriving at the third painting, Maribelle tears down its veil, exposing the painting beneath.
"The Wanderer," Maribelle introduces the third painting. "A masterful display of Vauquelin's vivid imagination. Enveloped by the glimmering moonlight, a cloaked wanderer trudges through the vast snowdrifts, determinedly seeking a place of great power that remains shrouded in mystery. Behold the majestic mountains that loom in the distance, crowned by an imposing temple whose massive obelisk pierces the sky. Many speculate that the mysterious figure is on a sacred pilgrimage, but the truth remains elusive, leaving the viewer lost in a maze of enigmatic wonder."
Painting #4 - The Three Angels
"Intriguingly, the fourth masterpiece showcases a youthful lad, his outstretched hand reaching for three angels. There are those who speculate that this might signify a solemn covenant between a valiant champion and the divine hosts, while others insist that, akin to its forerunners, this piece portrays Strahd's ordeal of losing his dear kin, including both of his parents."
Maribelle unveils the painting with a dramatic flourish, but her expression turns to a feigned sorrow as if she is relishing in the tragedy that it represents. "A sorrowful tale indeed, a loss that struck the very heart of our land," she says, her voice dripping with insincerity.
Painting #5 - Fool's Wisdom
As Maribelle drifts from painting to painting, the hushed but excited buzz of conversations stirs among the guests. They cluster around each artwork she had revealed thus far, eagerly taking in every brushstroke and hue. It is evident that the artistic mastery on display has captivated the assembled party, and it seems that each of Maribelle's revelations left them increasingly spellbound.
Pulling the veil from the fifth painting, Maribelle's smile broadens. "Ahh yes, the Fool's Wisdom," she declares.
The macabre artwork portrays a man laid bare, his entrails being proffered to a celestial being. The fiery inferno in the painting's background adds a ghastly and infernal ambience to the piece. "The nature of the dark bargain made within the image is unknown, with many believing it represents a death to self-righteousness."
Painting #6 - Ardens Autumnus
Eager to reveal the remaining paintings, Maribelle goes through the last three in quick succession.
"The macabre painting at hand is said to be of Vauqelin himself," she explains, revealing the sixth painting. "The ghastly figures seen dancing behind him have intrigued and disturbed many observers. Some speculate that these figures embody the common folk of Barovia, while others believe the truth is bleaker still - that they are demonic entities that haunted the artist's mind."
"Could it be that those dancing behind Vauquelin represent his critics? Unfortunately, it shall remain an enigma, for the painter himself has long departed this world."
Painting #7 - The Feast of Ignorance
"Behold, the seventh painting, set amidst the treacherous catacombs of Castle Ravenloft. It is widely believed that this painting foreshadows the end of the Von Zarovich dynasty, yet some whisper of faint hope. The enigmatic figure on the left, surrounded by a holy aura, is thought to represent a prodigal son, a long-lost heir of the Von Zarovich bloodline who may one day return and claim Strahd's throne. Only time will reveal the truth hidden within this haunting masterpiece."
Painting #8 - Triumphator
Maribelle's grin widens as she saunters towards the final painting, her words dripping with a morbid delight. "And now, my guests, I present to you Death," she proclaims, yanking the veil away to reveal a haunting image of a haloed death looming over two intertwined lovers. The symbolism of darkness consuming the light is palpable. "Painted by Vauquelin just prior to his untimely demise, it portrays the ultimate victory of death over life," she explains with a tinge of somberness. "But see how the two figures in the foreground are still so strikingly beautiful, even in the face of death's cruel embrace. Is it not a testament to the enduring power of love? Or perhaps the images contain a different meaning."
"The final, crowning piece of the exhibition is soon to be revealed," Maribelle declares, her voice carrying over the excited murmurs of the crowd. "In the meantime, enjoy the splendour before you. If there are any questions, I shall answer them to the best of my ability. I'm sure by now you've realised my intimate connection to Vauquelin's works." She signals for waiters carrying glasses of wine, and several guests eagerly grab them.
The air grows calmer, and Maribelle's demeanour has shifted from wild to almost mundane. It is as if the strange exhibition is nothing but a mere curiosity, rather than a macabre and twisted display. You cannot help but wonder if the true nature of the paintings is still hidden, waiting to be uncovered.
((Apologies for the wall of text. I thought, for the sake of brevity, I would reveal the majority of the paintings at once rather than drip-feeding them!))
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Meanwhile...
Night - Day 8 - ???
Galqarin - Please see the spoiler below:
You awaken to a throbbing head and a metallic tang in your mouth, your ears still ringing from the chaos that surrounds you.
You find yourself trapped in a cell. A battered man is chained to your left. His face is obscured by the poor lighting, and he's dressed in tattered rags. You can tell that he is unconscious.
Standing before you, just outside the cell, is Haribelle, now adorned with bat-like wings and tiny horns atop her head. The spell that once ensnared your mind has been broken, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts ((you are no longer charmed)). Your prideful arrogance was your downfall.
Around you, the sounds of horrifying screams echo through the chamber, mingling with cries for mercy and twisted moans of pleasure. It's a chorus of suffering that feels like it will never end.
The sound of anguished cries emanates from the neighbouring cell. A man huddles in the corner, his wails reverberating off the walls, he claws at his hair. "MAKE IT STOP!" he pleads, his voice thick with agony. You are certain that he is not aware of your presence. "Brother, please don't go! No, NO! BROTHER!" His body contorts violently, his spine snapping with a sickening crack. Blood splatters in a grotesque display, coalescing into twisted, malevolent runes that float in the air ((you cannot decipher what they say)).
Haribelle stands with her back turned to you, a coldness in her voice that belies her former kindness. "Fear not," she intones, "He is not yet gone. Do you believe She would allow him to perish while there is still so much suffering left to give?"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
'Those painting, this setting, Sandu, Dallid, their is something very dark about this Gallery. Something is weird as well with the paintings. Do see how many figures have a form a light around their head. Why would the artist draw so many pieces in a similar way," asks Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Survival instincts kicking in, Galqarin will remain silent and still as if still unconscious, whilst surveying the scene through narrowed eyes.
((How far is Harribelle from the cage? If within his 10' reach, and the bars are sufficiently spaced to allow his arms egress, Galqarin would attempt to sneak up to the bars, reach through and try to strangle her. If this appears feasible, I'll make the necessary rolls.))
Dallid leans in close to Dormark to whisper: "I haven't had a chance to tell you this til now. I believe I have Vauquellin's hand in my bag. He still writes, and is quite mad. But might be able to tell us about these paintings. I think we should find Galqarin first. Where is he?"
Paladin - warforged - orange
“ I think he may have been abducted at this point,… you said that the hand writes, says Dormark in a bit of confusion.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Dallid nods.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Sandu walked around the room inspecting each painting as it was unveiled. With every new painting shown, the more it lived up to its name of the Atrocity Exhibition. Sandu was not much of an art connoisseur, he much preferred useful and practical things, but even with his layman eyes he could tell that the quality was indeed of the highest form. Said impression was drowned out however by the encroaching thought that if anyone back home - Sandu was still fully committed to getting out of Barovia - would hang these on their walls, they would be hanged by a mob for being devil worshippers.
Sandu meticulously kept stock of what Lady Dubois had to say of each painting. The way she told it made it sound like each painting had some connection to Strahd, almost to a biographical degree. He would need to check with the history book and Tome of Stradh in his possession later to verify any of the claims she made but should it be so, perchance the paintings held a clue to Strahd's life and, but perhaps Sandu was hoping too much, his weaknesses should there be any.
He took another stroll around the room to view the painting once more in order.
'Good question.' Sandu mused when he passed by Dormark. 'I know that some depictions of holy people add this sort of halo around their head to signify their link to the divine. Also Lathander, or the Morning Lord as he is called here, is often depicted with the radiant sun as a crown. Though I'm pretty sure Strahd is neither holy nor a sun worshipper.'
He kept mulling over what he knew of Barovia and Strahd in his mind at each painting. 'I have some ideas.' Sandu rold Dormark. 'Well, I have some inklings of an idea or two but nothing concrete. Yet.' The last word was said with the clear intention of deciphering any and all meaning behind the art pieces. 'I must admit I am curious to this final piece and how it ties it all together.'
He locked eyes with the warforged. 'But Galqarin's absence is a more pressing matter.'
Sandu then decided on something that he had never willingly done before: talk to the authorities.
'Pardon me, my lady.' He addressed the Lady Dubois and turned on the charm. 'I simply must commend you for such a lovely introduction to the finer arts. Though I confess I find myself unable to fully enjoy the occasion. It pains me to say this but one of my friends has not yet had the chance to enjoy your exhibition. I fear one of the other guests might have absconded with him and is now dilly-dallying through your abode. I so do hate for him to miss such an exquisite evening of splendor and elegance, especially with the unveiling of the final piece. Do you perchance spot any other guest that is missing?'
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
Galqarin:
((That is most assuredly possible!))
You sneak up to the bars of the cell and reaching through you grab at the unsuspecting Haribelle.
Please make a [Tooltip Not Found] check (DC 15). On a success, you can [Tooltip Not Found] Haribelle where she stands. Otherwise, be prepared to make an opposed grapple check.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Night (12:15 pm) - Day 8 - Gallery
Sandu - Lady Dubois scans the exhibition, seemingly lost in thought. "What was that, my dear?" she asks, still in a daze. "Indeed, Guy's paintings speak for themselves. I am relieved that the unfortunate incident earlier did not taint the event."
"I am sorry about your missing friend. Maybe he is taking a nap somewhere in the house," she says, dismissively. "Nonetheless, a few other guests are also missing. I presume they are presently indulging in our hospitality elsewhere in the mansion," she adds with a heavy sigh. "I had hoped that Rahadin would be here to witness the unveiling, though it seems that he has taken his leave," she laments.
"Let your friend enjoy the festivities, my dear. The final piece will be revealed in due course." With that, she strides towards the last piece in the exhibition, the triptych.
All - You watch as Lady Dubois goes to the crowning piece of the exhibition, showing no patience for any stragglers. "Without further ado, let me present the centerpiece of this exhibition -- The Tears of Lysaga. Anthony, my dear, will you do the honour?"
Anthony Dubois approaches the front, his nerves evident in his trembling hands. "Y-yes, of c-course," he stammers, producing a key from his pocket and unlocking the final trio of paintings. He strains with all his might, he pushes open the ornate case's doors and unveils the painting that lies within.
Once more, the lights flicker, casting an eerie glow over the exhibition. The paintings within the case seem to pulse with otherworldly energy, their colors blending and shifting, emanating an unseen power. The triptych looms over the crowd, its left and right panels depict two roads - one light and the other dark - snaking over two citadels. The middle panel depicts a spring of death; a bone-white fountain that overflows with black ichor. A tall, dark figure is visible beyond the spring, cloaked in shadows, and her face is etched with age.
The other guests, captivated by the triptych's allure, swarm around it like moths to a flame. A collective gasp of astonishment echoes through the room, as the colors of the paintings, shift, and swirl, the pigments coming to life before their very eyes, and imbuing the scenes with an eerie, almost tangible reality.
In a sudden, frenzied burst, Lady Maribelle Dubois produces a black knife from the shadows behind the triptych. Her eyes are wild and frenzied, and her lips peel back in a twisted grin as she lunges forward. The steel plunges deep into her husband's flesh, eliciting a sickening crunch and a gush of crimson. Anthony Dubois's face contorts in agony as he locks eyes with his wife, who shows no signs of remorse. With a savage twist, she wrenches the blade out, only to plunge it in again and again, each thrust more brutal and blood-drenched than the last.
The stunned guests, many believing this to be part of the show, watch in horror as Maribelle's brutal act sends blood splattering across the triptych. The canvas seems to drink in the crimson fluid, its dark pigments pulsating with a newfound intensity. The central fountain, overflowing with black ichor, glows and surges with an otherworldly power as if the very essence of the scene were being consumed by the painting.
A sickly sweet scent of burning copper fills the air, and a sense of foreboding descends upon the room. The once-beautiful paintings begin to decay before the onlookers' very eyes, their intricate details peeling away to reveal a grotesque and twisted reality lurking just beneath the surface. Candles flicker and gutter out, casting the room into a murky darkness that seems to seep into the very souls of those present. At that moment, it becomes clear that something unspeakably evil has been unleashed and there is no going back.
As the darkness envelops you, you feel a cold sweat trickling down your spine. The screams around you grow louder, piercing through the void and echoing in your ears. You realise that the horror unfolding before you is not a mere act, but a sinister reality. With each passing second, the screams intensify, and you fear that the next one might be your own. The air is thick with an oppressive weight, and you can sense something lurking in the darkness, something malevolent and hungry. You strain your eyes to pierce through the veil of darkness, but there is nothing to see, only the sounds of chaos and destruction growing louder by the moment.
"Here," the hiss was sharp, devoid of empathy. "Come with me if you want to live!" You vaguely make out Rahadin's form in the darkness, he is urgently beckoning you to follow him.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dallid runs after Rahadin at a sprint, keeping as low as he can
Paladin - warforged - orange
[Tooltip Not Found] is most intriguing!
I'm going to hazard it a guess it was Stealth and Attack respectively. I'll make the rolls based on this assumption, including an Athletics check just in case.
Stealth: 26
Unarmed attack 1: 19, 10 bludgeoning damage
Unarmed attack 2: 26 (crit), 10 bludgeoning damage
Flurry of Blows 1: 20, 10 bludgeoning damage
Flurry of Blows 2: 11, 7 bludgeoning damage
Additionally,
Hand of Harm (1 ki point spent): 7 necrotic damage
Surprise Attack (Bugbear racial, assuming surprise): 8 bludgeoning damage
(If needed, Athletics: 12 or replace first unarmed attack with a grapple, which would be a 16)
(Assuming this was a surprise round, initiative: 8)
Galqarin -
((Holy moly damage!))
Your rage is unleashed, an unrelenting force that you had thought long gone. The thought of being at the mercy of such a vile being as Haribelle stirs a primal fury within you. You seethe with anger at the realisation that she had used your natural protective instincts to deceive and manipulate you. Without warning, you lunge at her, grabbing her by the throat through the cold metal bars of her cell. The grip of your fingers tightens, holding her in place.
But your attack does not stop there. The fury within you demands more. Your hands claw and tear at her exposed wings, ripping through skin and muscle with a sickening sound. Blood and ichor spray in all directions, coating your face and clothing. Haribelle tries to scream, but your powerful grip silences her desperate cries. The sound of bones cracking echoes through the dungeon as you continue your relentless assault, fueled by a dark and savage rage.
Haribelle Initiative: 5 (Oof!)
Haribelle's eyes bulge in terror as she lets out a high-pitched whimper. Her body convulses under the force of your assault, her limbs twisted and contorted in unnatural angles. Blood gushes from her broken nose and split lips, and her face is almost unrecognisable as human. The sight of her battered body makes your stomach churn with a mix of disgust and satisfaction. You revel in the power you hold over her, the power of life and death. It seems that Haribelle's consciousness is slipping away, her laboured breaths growing shallower by the second. You wonder if she will survive this brutal assault, or if she will finally succumb to the darkness that surrounds her. How do you proceed?
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
> How do you proceed?
The primal desires within him awakened, Galqarin seeks no less than the ultimate destruction of this cruel fiend before him. His face contorts into a wicked grimace at the twist of fate that led the controlled to become the controller, and controller to be the controlled. "Your evil ends now", he declares in a voice devoid of emotion.
4 unarmed attacks (dmg): 16 (9), 19 (10), 10 (5), 11 (8).
Grabbing Sandu, Dormark pushes him towards Rahadin yelling, "Run if you want to live!" Dormark will follow in the back of the group putting his body between them and what may be lurking out in the dark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Galqarin -
Continuing your relentless attack, Haribelle does not put up much of a fight. Blood and gore fly as you continue to pound on Haribelle, driven by a primal rage that consumes you completely. Her body writhes under your brutal assault, each impact reverberating through her shattered form. Despite her attempts to resist, it's clear that she's quickly losing the strength to fight back.
Her eyes, once filled with malice and hatred, now plead for mercy as she gasps for air, struggling to hold onto consciousness. But your fury is unquenchable, and you show no mercy to this creature who has caused so much pain and suffering.
Finally, with one last guttural scream, Haribelle goes limp in your grasp. The only sounds now are the ragged breaths escaping your heaving chest and the sickening squelch of her broken body hitting the ground.
"Wh-what are you?" a familiar voice sounds from behind, though it is weak and trembling. "You can torture me all you like. Y-you'll get nothing!" The words are choked out of the shackled man's mouth, his voice barely audible through the ragged breathing. Looking up, you catch a glimpse of his face. It is swollen and disfigured, his eyes barely visible through the mud and the caked blood. The sight of his tortured body makes your heart sink, and you can feel your own pain and desperation welling up inside.
"Gal?" the man says, his voice cracking with desperation and tears streaming down his bloodied face. It is then that you recognise Ioben, his features nearly unrecognisable from the bruises and cuts that mar his once handsome face.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Night (Unknown) - Day 8 - Mansion Hellscape
Dallid and Ferelyon, quickly followed by Dormark carrying Sandu, rush off to Rahadin's position. The dusk elf appears to have been lightly wounded and he clutches at this side. As you race through the mansion, it is as if you have entered a new realm of nightmare - much like the content of one of Vauquelin's paintings. The walls have crumbled away in parts, exposing pulsating masses of red flesh, and the air is thick with the stench of death. The flickering lights cast a sickly green hue over everything, revealing gruesome details you wish you could unsee.
Ushering you through into a nearby room, the size of a closet, Rahadin slams the door shut behind you. He eyes Dallid. "It looks like whatever force is behind this has played their hand," he says through breaths, his voice strained. "There are other entities, ancient and malevolent, that seek to dominate Barovia. They care not for the living, only for their own twisted desires. And, seemingly, they have set their sights on you."
As you converse with Rahadin, the agonised wails of those he has damned to death throughout the years assail your senses. The anguished cries of the tortured and slain reverberate through your mind, each one like a physical blow. Their voices seep into your consciousness, filling you with their pain and fury. They warn you of Rahadin's treachery, his deceitful nature, and they plead with you to avenge their torment.
"Let us not mince words, for I know that our history runs deep," he says, his voice laced with a hint of menace. "But if we are to have any chance at surviving this hellish realm, we must put our differences aside and work together. Our goals are aligned, for we both seek to break free from this cursed place and destroy the wicked force that holds sway over it."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dallid quotes one of the books of the library back home - it seems so long since he has seen it- and speaks softly as he tries to control his mind, assailed by the past. "'I know what you would say, and it would seem as wisdom but for the warning in my heart...' Rahadin, you have layed evil upon evil upon evil. If you wish for cooperation, you must do a little good for once in your terrible existence. Tell us of our friend Galqarin's location. You are a knowledgeable being. You must know something."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Dallid - Rahadin's lip curls up in a cynical sneer, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Fair, very fair," he says, his voice lacking any hint of empathy. "Honestly, I do not know where your friend currently is. However, what I do know is that this place," he gestures around at the twisted, infernal landscape that now dominates most of the mansion, "exists on a plane far different from Barovia. Whether it is some devilish underworld or shared nightmare, I cannot say for certain."
A sly grin spreads across his face. "Your bugbear friend was last seen with a companion, a woman with long red hair. It is my suspicion that this woman is not what she seems. An alluring beauty set out to whisk your friend off his feet? That matches the description of a particular type of fiend, does it not? Be careful, my friend. In this place, even the most innocent-looking creature can hide a dark, twisted soul."
Rahadin's voice drips with disdain as he continues. "I have reason to believe that the fiend you seek may be in league with the dark force that holds this realm in its grasp. And if we are to have any chance of escape, we must find a way to weaken its grip. Our first step should be to confront Maribelle. It was her actions that brought us to our current predicament, after all."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)