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The Vistani were once again visiting Parnast, for the first time since the War of the Dragon Cult (or, as Zane insisted on calling it, The Triumph of Stormwatch) had ended. Their colourful wagons and clothing lifted the spirits of the village, though respected butcher Viktor Kurrsk was wary of their presence — something to do with the disappearance of his wife many years prior.

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You each had noticed a Vistani child paying close attention over the preceding days, though you soon though nothing of it as they became part of the daily routine. But today you were each approached by an urchin and given a verbal invitation: Madam Eva, the leader of the Vistani caravan, would like you to visit this evening.

There was little detail given, but it was delivered in good humour and out of respect you each accepted — with the slight exception of town miscreant Bannor, who treated everything with suspicion. Even the Drow outcast Xarann was invited, taking him somewhat by surprise.

That evening you each made your way to the circle of wagons, and were interested to find the others also gathering. The newly arrived scholar — though he insisted he was a woodsman of some renown — Master Zandeyr Grawrith arrived carrying a beautiful arrangement of flowers, believing he was here to woo Madam Eva.

He was slightly put off to see that Zane ‘Dreamrider’ Kurrsk had trumped him with a single rose, a bottle of Parnast’s ‘finest’, and a lovely scent of lavendar arising from his well honed body.

Garn Felder, all business and all muscle, also arrived with a bag of tools and the wherewithal to use them.

Bannor observed all this from a perch in a nearby tree, unwilling to commit to this gathering when it was unclear exactly why it was happening. So intent was he as watched the party approach Eva’s wagon that he didn’t notice two wily Vistani children had climbed the tree next to him. Before he could react they had given a firm shove and he unceremoniously fell to the ground, much to the delight of the gathered gypsy-folk.

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You entered Eva’s wagon to find it draped in rich cloth, with little light from outside penetrating the comfortable cabin. Sitting at a round table facing a glowing crystal ball was a very old woman, who cackled with delight as you entered.

She welcomed you all, graciously accepting Zandeyr’s bouquet, but clearly favouring the rose and wine from Zane, who she quickly commenced seducing with those powerful eyes. Zane could barely contain his enthusiasm for this turn of events…

With the pleasantries out of the way, Eva told you the reason she had gathered you together. She produced a sealed scroll and told you that this was an invitation, but not just any invitation. If you please, she would talk to you each in turn about the destiny that may lie in front of you should you choose to accept — and she strongly suggested you should.

Warily you agreed to this proposal, though when she asked who should go first there was only an uncomfortable silence. Eventually she turned her attention to Zane, who was squirming slightly, but found himself nervously nodding while Viktor looked on intently.

As she started speaking, the cabin seemed to shrink in size, all light focussed on the subject of her words.

“Such a sweetheart, such innocence, and so fetching — my heart (and more mw-ha-ha) are aflutter looking at that doublet. So unlike your father, so dashing and brave! My darling boy — my darling young man! — I know what you can do with that sword between your legs, but would you like to show us what you can do with the other two? Perhaps you will even see…her…again. And I promise there are no dogs.”

Zane was like a deer in moonlight, frozen to the spot and for once unable to deliver a rapier sharp riposte. He glanced pleadingly at Viktor, who stared stonily back before turning his attention to Eva — “Me next”, he demanded.

“And you, poor man, haunted by such great loss. Losing the love of your life, the sunshine that gave glory to the Morninglord. To lose all that — leading you to forsake that same god. Would you know what fate befell Thomasin? The answers your restless soul seek lie within this scroll…”

Viktor cursed under his breath, a fury rising in his eyes and face, but he remained silent, glaring at Eva who turned her attention next to Zandeyr.

“Ah, and the scholar. I have read your treatise — those wicked supernatural beings must be banished, am I right? How would you like to prove your thesis? To come face to face with that which you dismiss? To understand the true nature of reality? Is that something to tempt you, oh wise one?”

Zandeyr, being a man of wisdom, immediately accepted — of course he would, though there was little doubt he was correct. Eva raised an ancient eyebrow and smiled. knowingly.

Next she studied the solid form of Garn, hesitating slightly before beginning.

“Well. Here is a blank page. A book yet to be written — or, correct me if I’m wrong, is it merely written in invisible ink? Such strength, and such a careful veil you have drawn. I wonder what it would be like to tear that away, to revel in the power within you, to unleash it. Repentance, revenge, forgiveness. What’s inside that tightly sealed box, hm?”

Garn immediately declined. There was nothing to find, nothing hidden, all there is to see is on display. The vehemence of his denial was convincing, but maybe a little too convincing. Who was this blacksmith?

Next up was Bannor, who had spent this entire time trying to find a way to open the cabin door, to no success. Eva invited him to sit, which he reluctantly did.

“A drunkard and odd jobber? I think not, indeed I think not. What lurks below that reeking hide, what horror speaks to you day and night, and won’t relent no matter how you try to drown it out? I know of a place where you will meet the silence you seek — though whether it accepts you or not remains to be seen. "

As she spoke these last words, Bannor stood in a rage and grabbed the crystal from the table, yelling for her leave Parnast and never return. Eva spoke softly to him, saying you were all free to leave at any time, and as guests at her table she would never bring you any harm. Slowly Bannor’s rage subsided, and he went and stood as far away as possible, all tension and alertness.

Finally, she turned to Xarann. “And who have we here? A surprise package, darkness wrapped in light. And so beautiful, like a sculpture. But so alone, poor dear, such a vacuum at the core of you. But listen to me: there is a people, and a place, for you. Somewhere to belong. Somewhere to be accepted. All you need do is find it…”

Much like Zane, Xarann looked stunned and speechless. Though he quietly nodded his head, once, in acceptance, perhaps seeing a possibility he had thought long gone.

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With the readings complete, Madam Eva clapped her hands excitedly and the room once again felt homely and comfortable. She grinned and thanked you for your attention, and hoped it was of some benefit to each of you.

Viktor, still blank faced, put his hand out and demanded the scroll be handed over. With a twinkle in her eye she did, and Viktor read the message to the gathering:

Hail to thee of might and valor! I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee. We plead for thy so desperately needed assistance. The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our town cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound and I would have her saved from this menace. There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea. Come quickly for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine! Kolyan Indrirovich, Burgomaster

As the words died in the room, Bannon scoffed and told everyone he was leaving.

Still slightly stunned, you stood, and Eva thanked you again and begged that you visit her in Barovia should you accept this plea for help — “which you really should”.

Eva’s words still echoed in each of your heads, the fear and truth and lies rattling around and tempting each of you in different ways. “Just head West”, she advised, though you all knew that led merely to the coast. She threw open the wagon door, and you were greeted by an unexpected sight.

The village was shrouded in a thick fog, blanketing everything in sight and silencing all. Viktor choked back a cry, calling Zane to his side and clenching his fists. And as you surveyed the mists, it was agreed that you had no choice: who could turn down the offer to find some universal destiny? And Bannor would be coming too, whether he liked it or not.

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You each gathered your meagre belongings together and headed toward the church. Viktor, the unassuming town butcher, appeared a changed man, kitted out in the apparel of a fighting man of the church. Those who had been here a long time recalled his association with the Church of the Morninglord, though you thought he had long forsaken that path.

Zane was decked out in all manner of finery, though it was unclear how much was for show and how much for action. The 8 string lute strapped to his back suggested the former. Garn too was suited up and well armed, with plain but effective and very well maintained gear. He wore a shield with a leaping panther motif.

Xarann carried little, but he carried himself with some assurance you had rarely seen. Zandeyr appeared out of the fog with a fully laden horse, and was wearing pristine leather armour that had perhaps not been worn much beyond the showroom it was purchased from.

After Viktor’s prayers — during which a strange gust of wind knocked over and extinguished the candles he had lit — you moved on to Bannor’s hovel to collect him. He was barely conscious, with a mountain of empty bottles surrounding him. Xarann gathered up Bannor’s belongings, which he was surprised to find already well packed and ready for travel. Zandeyr meanwhile encouraged the drunkard to partake in some further libations, which he willingly did. Before long he was asleep, and you carried him to the pack horse, strapped him on, and ventured forth.

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You moved through the fog, heading West as instructed. The path led only one way, and it was clear there was no way through the thick forest that reached over the gravel road. As you walked further and further, it became clear you were no longer anywhere you recognised, and certainly not where you expected to be.

The darkness encroached over you as the fogs grew thicker. Zane stepped on something that gave a soft crunch, and reached down to find a bouquet of funeral flowers, seemingly long forgotten and yet emitting a strong and fresh aroma.

Xarann, who the warriors noticed was always positioning himself for best defence of the group (he was clearly trained, something that took you by surprise), noticed something hanging on a tree nearby, and reached over with his sword to retrieve a black executioner’s hood from the forking branches.

could not find image

After several hours of increasingly uncomfortable walking, the trees opened up slightly to an epic sight. Ahead of you were two enormous headless statues, standing either side of equally enormous gates. High stone buttresses loomed overhead, the iron gates dripping with dew and rust.

Silence enveloped everything as you approached, and the gates slowly swung open, screeching into the quiet. Cautiously you stepped through, and as you did the gates closed again, slamming shut with a ominous finality.

Inside you noticed the fog had somewhat lifted, though it was still overcast and grey. A raven stared down at you from atop a huge tree, tipping it’s head as you walked toward it, before flying off cawing.

The road led further west until you reached a clearing in the path. On the Northern side stood a large mansion, four stories tall and surrounded by a rusty iron fence. And standing in the middle of the clearing were two children, a girl and a boy, the boy whimpering and quietly sobbing into his older sister’s dress. He clutched a stuffed doll close as you approached.

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She called you over and introduced herself as Rose Durst, and begged for your help as she shushed the boy (who she called Thorn.) “There’s a monster in our house!” she cried, pointing to the towering house.

The boy started crying again at this, and Garn knelt down to comfort him and question Rose. She told you that the monster lived in the basement, and that her parents had trapped it down there. They hear terrible howls from down there, and are terrified to go back inside. And worse still, their baby brother Walter is still inside in the 3rd floor nursery.

Bannor decried this as an obvious trap, but Garn and Viktor overrode those protests. You had come to Barovia to help, and these innocent children — their hands weren’t too cold, their faces not too unlifelike, and there was no great evil here, correct? — needed your help as much as any.

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And so you opened the protesting gate, walked to the stone portico, and lit the lamps hanging there. The house stood impassively before you as the children sheltered in the entranceway. You pushed open the doors…

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Session played: 31 July 2018