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As Madam Eva shuffled her Tarokka deck, the walls and curtains of the tent seemed to close in around you as they had back in Parnast when you innocently accepted her first invitation — it seemed like another lifetime now.

She was strangely quiet as she started drawing the cards, the ancient rite of Tarokka absorbing her every attention. “The first three cards I draw will lead you to ancient and powerful relics that will assist you in your battle to free this land — and yourselves.”

“The first card tells of history. Knowledge of the ancient will help you better understand your enemy.”

---

She drew a card: the 2 of Coins, the Philanthropist. “Most unpleasant. Look to a place where sickness and madness are bred. Where children once cried, the treasure lies still.”

“The next card will lead you to a powerful force for good and protection, a holy symbol of great hope.”

---

The second card was revealed: the 9 of Stars, the Conjurer. “A challenge. I see a dead village, drowned by a river, ruled by one who has brought great evil into the world.” “The final relic is an object of power and strength. It tells of a weapon of vengeance, a sword of sunlight.”

---

She turned over the third card to show the 1 of Swords, the Avenger. “Not an easy task. The treasure lies in a dragon’s house, in hands once clean and now corrupted.”

Madam Eva laid down the deck from her hand, and picked up a smaller set of cards. “These next two cards will identify an ally, and locate your enemy. Pay heed.”

“First, to shed light on one who will help you greatly in the battle against darkness.”

---

The card drawn was The Mists. “Hm, one of us. A Vistana wanders this land alone, searching for her mentor. She does not stay in once place for long. Seek her out at Saint Markovia’s abbey, near the mists.”

“And finally. Your enemy is a creature of darkness, whose powers are beyond mortality. This card will lead you to him.”

---

Even Madam Eva hesitated when she revealed this final card: The Horseman.

“Alas. He lurks in the once place to which he must return — a place of death.”

For a moment you all paused, not really understanding but understanding enough to know you must. Then Eva leaned back and cackled, the heavy atmosphere lifting once again. “Any questions?!”

---

You spent the night in the Vistani camp, having gleaned little from Eva, and little more from the caravan dwellers. You declined their offers to sell you potions of ‘return’ that would allow you to pass through the mists and back home.

Eva confirmed to you that she had read many fortunes of this kind before, but that none had succeeded in their quests. She suggested that shouldn’t dissuade you — after all the world needed heroes — but it did cast a pall over your hopes. She tried to encourage you with news that even now another solo adventurer was in these lands, in Vallaki as it happened, with perhaps a similar goal to yours.

The following morning you returned to the mountain pathway, and worked your way North and West toward Vallaki. You passed over the mighty Tser Falls, wisely ignored the signpost to Castle Ravenloft, and passed through huge stone gates that matched those that had welcomed you to this land. You emerged from the mountains onto a trail that descended into a fog filled valley. You could see the walled town of Vallaki ahead, near the shores of a great mountain lake.

A branch of the road led West to an isolated promontory, atop which perched a dilapidated onion-domed stone windmill, it’s warped wooden vanes stripped bare and still. With some trepidation you decided on a closer look, but as you started up the path a raven flew in front of you and cawed fretfully, flapping it’s wings in front of you as if in warning.

---

It was a warning you decided to heed, turning back to the road and continuing toward the lake. A side road invited you to the shores, the water perfectly still and dark, reflecting the black clouds overhead like a mirror. Three small rowboats lay idle in the clearing.

Sharp eyed Xarann noticed a figure sitting in a boat 400 feet from shore, fishing despondently.

---

As you watched, the figure drew in his line and stood up, looking toward the heavens. He started moving something at his feet with some effort, until it was near the edge of his sad craft.

Leaning down, he picked up something bundled into a sack, smaller than an adult human, but larger than an animal. He glanced heavenward once more, and then dropped the sack over the edge of his boat into the chill water.

Did the sack move as it was dropped? Was something alive inside? It was hard to tell. For a moment you paused… before deciding, like the windmill, that it was probably best to ignore whatever was happening here. It must have been a sack of potatoes — or maybe cats? Yes, cats, that must be it.

---

Finally, you arrived at Vallaki. The township was walled in by a 15 ft wooden palisade with sharpened points, surrounded by thick fog and topped by two manned guard towers. Flanking the sturdy iron gates were a half-dozen pikes with wolves' heads impaled on them.

The guards allowed you in, once you vouched for your good behaviour, good intentions, good company in the person of Ireena, an understanding of fact that should you misbehave you will be hunted by the town guard and militia, and agreement that you would attend the Festival of the Blazing Sun in three days time.

The streets of Vallaki were wider than Barovia, and more lively, if only slightly. People walked rather than shuffled, and many of the buildings were adorned with sagging ribbons and bunting, rather than boards and claw ravaged walls.

Taking the main passage, you passed by the Arasek Stockyard, which contained a general store and more interestingly, a sturdy carnival wagon. Colourful paint peeled off it, and faded lettering spelled out the words “Rictavio’s Carnival of Wonders”.

Continuing up the street, you saw a huge and heavy-set man yelling down at a hapless citizen, kicking him a few times before ordering two town guards to drag him away. You pressed on until you reached a large two story building with grey smoke issuing from the chimney and several ravens perched on the tile roof.

A painted sign depicting a blue waterfall announced that this was the Blue Water Inn. You decided to secure rooms, and ventured inside to a large and warmly lit room. The innkeeper, Urwin Martikov, welcomed you, and was pleased to offer you the remaining rooms (only one was taken), the cost including hot beet soup and bread. He also directed you to the Burgomaster’s mansion, which was nearby.

---

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Following his directions took you to the town square, the buildings here festooned with flags and decoration, with several posters pinned to doors and noticeboards proclaiming:

Come one, come all, to the greatest celebration of the year: THE WOLF’S HEAD JAMBOREE!

Attendance and children required. Pikes will be provided.

ALL WILL BE WELL! –The Baron–

A fountain with a statue stood in the centre of the square, and at the north end a row of stocks stood, locked in which were several men, women, and children, all wearing crude plaster donkey heads.

Zane was horrified to see this, and immediately filled a container with water and took it to one of the shackled prisoners who thanked him with croaky voice. Viktor joined his worthy son, removing the mask from a man and quizzing him as he drank. The man said the children were his, and that they had been captured for ‘malicious unhappiness’.

Before you could free the trapped citizens, Xarann whistled a warning — the large man you had seen before was approaching the square, his guards carrying bundles of rolled papers. The rest of you took up defensive positions around the square as the guards started moving around the square, ripping down the old posters and pinning up new ones:

COME ONE, COME ALL, to the greatest celebration of the year: THE FESTIVAL OF THE BLAZING SUN!

Attendance and children required. Rain or shine.

ALL WILL BE WELL! –The Baron–

The large bald headed brute suddenly noticed that a prisoner’s mask had been removed, and stormed over to the stocks demanding to know what exactly you thought you were doing.

Viktor’s hackles were well and truly raised, and a battle of wills developed. The man wouldn’t budge, and only laughed when told that locking children up was a great evil. Eventually an uneasy agreement was reached: he would take you to his master, the Burgomaster Baron Vallakovich.

Given this was your aim and destination anyway, Viktor stood down, though it was quite clear that this wasn’t over.

---

He led you to a mansion of plastered stone and took you inside to the waiting area, which held many bundles of twigs and dried wood, evidently for use at the approaching festival. You were taken into a plushly furnished sitting room, carpeted and reeking of pipe smoke. Mounted on the wall was the head of an angry looking bear.

---

Before long the doors swung open and a hulking bear of a man stepped in, flanked by two large black mastiffs. He welcomed you heartily, and invited — nay ordered — you to sit and relax.

The Baron was a talkative fellow, and clearly used to getting his own way. He immediately invited you to the upcoming festival, and you quickly ascertained that the festivals were his way of lifting the spirits of ‘his people’, and that you were unlikely to find a happier citizenry than his in this dark land. In fact so happy were they than he was sure that one day soon his town would be freed from the tyranny of the accursed Strahd.

You were surprised to hear him curse the dread Lord, as you had formed a view that he was likely another of Strahd’s pawns — Garn having magically determined his evil intent. But he seemed genuine, if mad and power drunk.

He refused to countenance that the stockading of children was in any way cruel, given the lowering of the people’s happiness was likely to bring an even darker punishment to all. Your frustration mounted as it became clear you were not going to be able to change his mind.

You also realised that leaving Ireena with this man was a terrible idea. But after introducing her, you could see a thought strike him like lightning. He held up his had to stop all conversation, his eyes alight with fervour: “A wedding! We must have a wedding! The people will adore you my dear, and such a celebration will undoubtedly be the spark which sets us free!!”

So happy was he with this idea that he even promised the stockaded citizens would be released to celebrate this wonderful occasion. He lit his pipe with a flourish, toasting all with his brilliance. You noticed the puffs of smoke arising from his smoking were all shaped like tiny skulls.

---

He summoned the brute — who turned out to be called Izek — to bring the Baroness into the room immediately to hear the good news. As Izek left the room, he suddenly caught sight of Ireena for the first time, and you saw him turn as pale as a ghost and freeze on the spot. He didn’t move, looking shocked and stunned, only leaving when the Baron yelled at him to hurry.

The Baroness arrived with peals of nervous laughter, and grew ever more delighted with each word her husband spoke, especially when he declared that Izek would be Ireena’s ideal husband. Izek stood in the background, eyes fixed like glue on Ireena, and he almost seemed to be panting.

Horrified, you all grasped for a way out of this mess, before Garn blurted out “But Ireena is betrothed to…Zane Dreamrider!”. Zane shot bolt upright, and Ireena looked as surprised as he did, but all could see this was an narrow avenue for escape.

The Baron paused, and frowned. His wife held her breath. And then he clapped his hands: “A duel! A duel to the death for the hand of a princess!! There is no more honoured nor beloved tradition! Izek vs the handsome young Dreamyrider!”

You started stammering excuses as to why this couldn’t happen, before Zane interrupted with words of steel to match those strapped to his waist (and that within his pants). “I accept”.

---

You staggered out of the mansion, not entirely sure what had happened, only knowing that at dawn the next morning a duel was to be held.

Before bedding down for the night, Viktor and Xarann visited the local church, named St. Andral’s and dedicated to the Morninglord. There they met Father Lucian Petrovich, a genuinely good man who was helping shelter those villagers for whom the night was too much to bear.

He confirmed your suspicious about the Baron, saying that the madness of the weekly ‘celebrations’ had had no effect on the happiness of the citizens, indeed they now lived in fear of the eternal “ALL WILL BE WELL”.

Viktor helped the huddled villagers, literally brightening the children’s night with some small spellcraft. Retiring to the Inn, Ireena dragged her young dandy upstairs for one last ‘session’, while Garn and Bannor relaxed at the bar, and you all contemplated how on earth to save Zane.

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Session played: 8 April 2019