I am so thrilled. Lunae has been writing a book on what has happened to us since we came here. She says it’s because she wants to keep an accurate record of those things that have happened to us. And what’s even better, is that she has let me read it. Her words are so beautiful. Here is an extract of the battle in the Red Brick House.
“Upon leaving Madam Ava’s tent I am bitten by the cold winds circling though the encampment. My eyes painfully adjust to the bright light of the mid-afternoon rays, slowly regaining focus on the large crowd still dancing around the emerald flames of fire within the circle of Vistani wagons. The bounding of feet echoes in silence like the distant murmur of song and laughter as if they were only shadows flickering like the flames of the fire. I brush the feeling off as just the after effect of the witch’s concealment spell. As if awoken from a dream, the firm grip of Bastions hand upon my arm brings reality flooding back. “We are leaving for the village; we must get there before dark.” Bastion blurts with a degree of excitement. Releasing his grasp, he hurries back to the front of the party alongside Gorek. I look over to Dog, who is still lying in the short grass beside the tent. Ears pricked up, panting with a bewildered gaze on the half dozen horses drinking from the lake. With a gentle whistle, he springs to his feet and leaps to my side. Together we step forward following the party a few feet behind Holly and Karak.
The road is not wide, just large enough for the wagons to get through with scarcely any track before a small descent into overgrown ditches. The trees loom over us, reaching far into the sky, partially blocking out the light descending into the west. Perhaps a mile or two we have walked so far, the distant sounds of the Vistani have faded into forest. More compact as a group now, we follow the road round a gentle bend leading to fork in the path. In the centre of this fork stands the weathered remains of a gallows, the creaking of the splintered wooden structure almost like a metronome in the wind channelled by the three connecting roads. Upon first glance you would say that the hangman had deserted this place a long time ago, if it were not for the pristine rope elegantly looped into a noose. Hypnotically it sways, very gradually back and forth as we all approach with caution. At reaching the foot of this gallows another, arguably more terrifying sight crosses our gaze. Down the east path, no more than 20 feet further, several mounds protrude from ground just off the path. Ranging from 5 to 6-foot, fresh earth was rises from the ground. There is no question that this is a graveyard, but it is newly formed . A chill resonates through our group of adventurers. Questions lay on the faces of all, but no answers are forthcoming.
Gorek crashes to his knees in the centre of the semi-circle we have created around these poor souls. Prayers of passion to the morning lord follow.
“Let Thy Shining Mercy pour over them and let Thy own body be their food, and Thy blood their sprinkling; that in and through them all may die as we desire to live, in Thy Arms, in Thy faith and in Thy love.”
These were not words I would say, nor a God I would pray to. However, in respect to Gorek and the dead, my head bows alongside the others.
After the ritual is complete, Gorek rises to his feet facing back at the group with appreciation. His eyes look as if fixed upon Holly, for a moment rooted to the spot. It becomes increasingly obvious over the next few seconds which seem to linger for an eternity, that Gorek’s fixation stood higher than the halfling. The group and I turn with intrigue to see what had frozen this mighty Paladin in place. Hanging limply from the once empty rope is the body of man. Tall, lean, and dressed in armour this man appears familiar. This man hanging lifeless upon this rickety structure wears the face of our Paladin. The figure swinging back and forth stares with absent eyes directly back at Gorek. I draw back my arm over my shoulder to grasp into my quiver, raise my short bow and with hands not quite as steady as moments ago and let loose an arrow through the humid evening air. It glides towards the figure gently brushing past the rope it hangs by, fraying but a few strands. Another, I think, pulling my arm back once more. This time, I am greeted by the rough scaled skin of Karak. Words were not exchanged but a glance instructs me to stand down. Our group now including Gorek moves slowly back towards the gallows. Increasingly more confused as the facial features of the body mirror those of our friend. Gorek reaches down, draws his sword with a mighty groan, intent on cleaving this man in two. Bastion steps courageously between the two Goreks, pleading with our Gorek to trust him. “We must examine this being” exclaims Bastion.
“A man cannot just appear, hung from his neck, and be killed without us taking notice just a few feet away, let me cut him down.”
Bastion, our holy cleric is not one to carry a dagger or sword. But without needing to finish his sentence Holly has forced his own into Bastions open palm. Out of all our party, Bastion has become closest to Gorek. Partly due to their shared faith, but also as the only two Humans in our group. So, it is not easy for him to brush up close to the dead, hanging body of his friend. It is not gracefully done; this cleric may not have held a dagger in his life but with a few sawing motions upon the rope the body slumps down onto the platform. Lying face down we can see that even from the back this body is indistinguishable from Gorek. With quite some effort Bastion pulls on the dead weight before him and with the help of Gorek’s boot manages to force onto its back, a man. A man no longer with the appearance of Gorek but of an older more ragged man. Dirty in his complection with deep wrinkles. The group is taken aback, none more than Holly whose step back after this shocking discovery almost causes him to lose balance from the slightly elevated platform.
The eerie silence is broken with the raised voices of panic and confusion. All but Bastion are talking, trying to make sense of everything since reaching this God forsaken fork.
“We should bury him”. The discussion continues without pause. “We should bury him now.”
Bastion this time is shouting from the gallows. Voices quickly hush and eyes fall upon Bastion once more.
“We should bury him.” He says again but this time more calmly.
This is not a mutual feeling for the group. Holly, Karak and I are already taking a backwards step towards the path to the village. Gorek looks at Bastion, then to the sky. Darkness is fast approaching; the burning oranges and golds of dusk are upon us. He once again brings his eyes to meet Bastion. With reluctance Gorek starts walking towards the village path saying “It’s time we moved on” to Bastion as he turns.
With the light diminishing even further, torches from the village are being lit and the faint haze of light can be seen illuminating the horizon. We are close, perhaps only a mile or so we can see a small stone bridge further down the road and a looping path continues behind it up a small incline. With haste in our steps, still from the adrenaline pumping after the mystery of the gallows, we march on. I am first to stop, but moments after, the whole group have stopped turning to Dog who is now facing into the darkened forest growling into the abyss. Nothing out of sorts is obvious, but Dog was insistent that danger was close by. Focusing with my Elvish eyes I peer into the darkness, carefully navigating through the maze of trees that lie before us.
“Wolves”, I say. “150 feet into the treeline, they are following us”. I place my hand upon Dog’s head and as if charmed he falls silent. “We must move quickly, get to the bridge. These animals are just protecting their territory and I do not wish harm upon them”. We do not run but stride with purpose towards the bridge. My eyes never leaving the movements of these magical beasts as they stalk us through the forest. Relieved, we make it over the stone bridge and the wolves disperse into the darkness from whence they came. Our final stretch up this small hill to the village is thankfully uneventful and unlike our first visit to the Village of Barovia, this time it looks more appealing. Ale, Wine, Food, a Bath! Everyone’s excitement grows as we step into the village. No-one sees the young girl running from a large house to our right. She runs up to Holly and tugs on his arm. Ale, Wine, Food, a Bath. None of these words are on our mind after we hear the one word spoken by this small girl.
“Monster” she cries.
She points at her house, a larger three-story building with many chimneys and smoke arising from almost all of them and lights glowing through many cracks around curtains. The young girl of six or seven pulls again on the sleeve of Holly trying to drag the halfling into her front garden crying
“There’s a monster in our house”. Hesitantly we follow her though the iron gates into a well-maintained lawn. Sitting on the floor opposite a grand, black door is another child slightly smaller than the girl.
“This is my brother Thornboldt, we are scared to go back into the house because the monster has escaped from the basement.” Says the girl. “My other brother Walter is still in the house on the top floor, but he’s little and can’t walk like us. Please can you help us.” She pleads.
Holly takes her by the hand.
“Where are your parents?” He asks.
“We don’t know, please mister. Please protect us from the monster”.
I walk over and take the girls hand from Holly leading the young girl to her brother.
“This is Dog, he will protect you out here whilst we go inside to get your brother.”
Dog sits between the siblings, and it can be seen immediately that the children feel safer. Holly, Bastion and I are the first to this huge doorway. Karak and Gorek follow slightly behind. Upon reaching the first step of the house, Gorek mutters some words to the Morning Lord and performs a detect dead ritual.
His hands begin to glow, and his face screws up with concentration. After a moment, the holy light stops and Gorek looks up at us.
“There are dead within these walls.” he says with a serious tone.
Anxiety visibly increased as glances are shared throughout the group. Waiting for someone else to make the first move, I grow impatient and bang on the door.
“Hello, is anyone inside.” I shout.
No response comes from inside, but a few disapproving looks come from the others as if I have announced our arrival to the monster. Holly reaches into his pocket to bring out his lockpicks as I try the front door. It opens.
The door creaks open and we are greeted by a large hallway. A stone fireplace with a roaring fire on the left wall as we peer in. To the right a grand red marble staircase sweeps up the side of the house to the second floor. Directly in front two doors are visible, both shut. Whispers are seeping through the door and even though they are faint, we notice them at the front entrance. Slowly, everyone moves forward into the hallway. Carvings cover the fireplace depicting woodland scenes. Children can be seen dancing with the animals amongst the trees. Huge paintings around the staircase show similar images. Holly makes his way over to the right doorway; the whispers are louder but still muffled enough so what was being said could not be heard. With the group readying to go into this next room Holly, cracks it open to see the kitchen. Completely empty of people, not a sound coming from this room any longer. Gorek, closest to the stairs at this point turns to hear whispers coming from upstairs.
“There are people upstairs” he quietly says to the rest of us.
As Bastion, Karak and I start moving to the stairs, Holly gently opens two more doors leading to a pantry and cloakroom and then joins the rest. I lead all but Gorek up the winding marble staircase, with slow and stealthy steps.
Gorek says quietly back up the stairs, “We still have not found the door to the basement; I will continue to search.”
With a nod of agreement, the party continues. A few steps from the top, my head is high enough to see into another long corridor. Even more magnificent than downstairs, a large fireplace stands directly opposite at the far side of the hallway. Still alight but without flame, coal, red like rubies are burning behind the grate. Above the fireplace hangs a huge portrait of a family. A mother, father, two children and a baby stand as a family in the frame. It is quite some distance away, but I am be quite sure that the children in this painting are the same who sit outside with Dog at this moment. On both sides two suits of armour stand at attention, polished within an inch of existence, these four figures gleam in the fires light. Large in stature, these suits of plate steel would not fit the average man. To the side the staircase sweeps again up to another floor, as we look, we see light is absent from this third floor.
Holly, Bastion, Karak and I all make our way into the corridor. The walls around us, papered in red, a wooden border sat about a third off the floor also showing these carvings of nature again. Three doors sit recessed in the walls, two to our right and one to our left.
The first on our right is situated just a few steps from the top of the stairs. The whispers are coming from the door at the back left and like those which were once downstairs, the words cannot be made out. We decide to peer into this first room, Holly again being first to the door gently turns the brass knob and quietly pushes the door inwards. A small room lays before us, bleak in appearance. This room does not match any other we have seen in the house so far. Two single straw filled beds are squeezed tightly between the grey, undecorated walls and two worn trunks sit at the foot of each. However strange the room appears, we decide to continue down the hall, now we are sure the room is empty. The doors at the end of the corridor are different to those of the small bedroom we just saw. Each side of the corridor a set of double doors stand; wooden carvings adorning the doors like a fine dress. They both depict similar scenes of children dancing in open fields with large birds fluttering above. Below the knobs of each of these doors are key holes, Holly takes the opportunity to peer through to see the origin of the whispers everyone can hear. He looks through arching into different angles to see as much of the room as possible. Then without a word to the others opens the door. The room is larger, a reception like room with elegant sofas and a table in the one corner. Long drapes cover the two large windows on the north side and a lit fire crackles on the south wall. The room is empty of people, and again whispers have turned to silence.
The exchanged looks between the four portray the confusion and fear we were all experiencing. Without investigating the room further, we turn to the set of double doors behind us, similar to those we have just entered but the carvings are slightly different.
“These children don’t look like they are dancing with these birds anymore”. Holly mutters. “And I am not sure that they are birds. It looks like these children are being attacked by a swarm of bats.” Holly again peeks through the keyhole in the door and once satisfied pushes the door open to large library. Bookcases from floor to ceiling caress the right-hand side of the room, a large desk sitting directly opposite the door is the dominate presence in the room. We enter, taking a closer look at this library. I move over to the rows and rows of books; Holly investigates every nook and cranny in the room without pause. Bastion and Karak move over to the desk, not a flake of dust lies upon the it. It looks as if it has been wiped clean not a moment ago. A pot of ink with a quill stands next to a letter, the only two items on this huge wooden surface. The letter, seal still unbroken in the form of a large raven. Black wax used to create the impression. Bastion takes up the letter and breaks the seal and reads it aloud.
“My most pathetic servant,
I am not a messiah sent to you by the Dark Powers of this land. I have not come to lead you on a path to immortality. However many souls you have bled on your hidden altar, however many visitors you have tortured in your dungeon, know that you are not the ones who brought me to this beautiful land. You are but worms writhing in my earth.
You say that you are cursed, your fortunes spent. You abandoned love for madness, took solace in the bosom of another woman, and sired a son. Cursed by darkness? Of that I have no doubt. Save you from your wretchedness? I think not. I much prefer you as you are.
Your dread lord and master,
Strahd von Zarovich”
Whilst Holly and Karak are transfixed by Bastions words. I continue to look over the books on the shelves. One stands out much more than the rest, a worn slightly tattered leather-bound book looks clearly out of place in a row of immaculate texts. I reach out to inspect the book further but as I pull if from its place a click echoes through the room and the bookshelf starts to swing inwards. The others noticing the hole opening up in the wall rush to my side. Each of them peers around the corner showing little more than their heads. As the hidden door swings slowly open, more and more of the room appears. First the stone walls, covered in dust and cobwebs. Then as the door reaches 90 degrees it appears; a large chest, not unlike those you would picture a pirate burying with treasure rests on the stone floor, slightly ajar. The lid is propped open by the remains of a hand, attached to a complete skeleton lying motionless on the cold floor. I move in, and carefully with several side steps make my way to the chest. From my belt I draw my simitar and force it into the small crack between body and lid. Pushing it open, the chest lets out an almighty crack which makes everyone flinch and move for cover. The lid of the chest falls back and a small crossbow like mechanism is visible to me.
Empty of ammunition, I can see, as I crouch down to take a closer look, a small dart under the ribcage of the skeleton. “Poison darts”. I call to the others. Holly carefully makes his way to the chest and with a sophistication unknown to me, manages to deconstruct the trap in under a minute. He signals to everyone that it is safe, and Bastion and Karak follow in. All peering into the chest so to discover what this trap is guarding; they see a couple of old books and some scrolls on parchment. Disappointed that the chest is not overflowing with gold, Holly and I leave the dull looking documents and move back into the library. Bastion and Karak showing a little more interest in the hidden knowledge sitting before them dig out the contents. Bastion starts flicking through the books impatiently, but all the pages are blank. Karak’s hoard is more interesting, he opens up the scrolls to find ancient spells written on the paper, unknown to his tongue. Also, amongst the scrolls are the deeds of two properties. One which would be assumed, to be of the house that we currently occupy. Stating owners of a Gustav and Elisabeth Durst. The other deed is for a windmill. Bastion pockets the books and walks back into the library, with Karak slowly following, face buried in words of the spell scrolls. Holly and I are already back in the corridor, signalling to Bastion that we are going upstairs.
“I am going to stay here and try and decipher these words” Karak states after seeing the group go towards the stairs to the third floor. I reach the stairs first, Gorek can be seen at the foot of the stairs underneath.
“There is whispering back in the kitchen” Gorek says up to me.
“We are checking the final floor and will come down to investigate” I reply.
Holly and I start to make our way up the final set of red marble stairs, Bastion lagging behind. The third floor is darker, only the escaping light of the second-floor fire making its way up the stairs. As Holly and I make our way further up into the darkness a chill lingers in the air. All the details of the upstairs corridor are harder to see but the dimly lit landing at the top of the stairs has enough light to show the outline of another, larger suit of armour. I look back down the stairs to see Bastion reaching the bottom step, I turn around and make my way up to the landing, Holly closely behind. My elf eyes start to see through the darkness and things become clearer. Just then the screech of metal on metal brings my attention back to the armour. It is moving, slowly at first but it reaches out to me with its plate arms. Reactively, I step back and bring up my hands and with some form of unseen energy push towards the floor beneath the animated suit of armour. Instantly, vines start bursting through the ground. The walls start to crack as more vines penetrate, chunks of the ceiling began falling to the ground and even more vines cover the room. They wrap around the creature’s arms, legs attempting to pin it back to the wall. It is no use, the sheer power of this suit of armour rips through the vines and swings its mighty arm straight into my shoulder.
I am forced backwards onto the stairs, Holly in sheer fright of this horrific sight runs back down the stairs shouting to Bastion. I stumble to my feet and follow Holly down. This once quiet home is now alive with noise and draws the attention of both Karak in the library and Gorek from downstairs. Bastion, at the bottom of the stairs staring upwards is witness to me, hurt, leaping down the stairs closely followed by the booming of each step created by this huge humanoid creature. He presses his palms together casting a form of blessing over me as I run. The creature swings again crashing its fist into my back. I fall forward this time, bouncing down the remaining stairs and slide past Bastion. The armour reaches the bottom step where Bastion is still praying, draws back its arm and swings it at Bastions head.
In that moment, Gorek leaps in front of Bastion raising his shield blocking the mighty blow. Holly now close to the small bedroom raises his short bow and lets loose an arrow, bouncing off the plates covering this creature.
Karak from the opposite side raises his staff and fires a burning light at the creature. Bastion stumbles backwards and calls on another prayer shooting towards this horrific monster. The armour draws his arm back once more and launches it at Gorek. Again, Gorek manages to deflect the left fist but as he does the creatures swings his right, knocking Gorek completely off his feet. More arrows and magic are fired at the creature, but nothing seems to stop it. I get to my feet, draw my bow, and give an arrow flight from the entrance to the library. As if in slow motion it whistles through the air, over the shoulder of Bastion and finds it mark in the small slit between the helmet of the animated armour. The creature drops to the floor lifeless, helmet bouncing on the red marble stairs.”
Lunae, Elven Druid 1493 DR
Recent Comments