In the furthest, darkest, deepest corner,
At the wall of fog that reaches skyward,
Beyond the grapes and vines and fauna,
They gather, worship, death their byword:

The Druids.

Nobody knows who they are,
Nobody knows what they do,
But their legacy remains,
Hewn into the living hill of Yester.

Yester!
Where the ‘serkers dwell,
Where the treeblights live and they do live well,
Yester!
Where a man’s a tree,
And the children dance and live unfree.

Hey! Yester!
‘Tis a magic place,
Where only fools will show their face,
Welcome, welcome, come and dance,
In fair Barovia!

Before heading to Yester Hill, you decided to destroy the clearly evil staff you had obtained during the Winery battle. As you set a massive bonfire, Davian Martikov asked what you were doing. When you produced the staff, he recoiled in horror and held his head between his hands, clearly in pain. He backed away quickly, begging you to destroy it. You could see his family too reacting as if struck, as they cowered back toward the Winery. Strange that it should effect them so virulently.

Once the fire was blazing, you threw the cursed object into the centre of the flames. The staff shifted, but didn’t seem to be catching alight. Xarann stepped forward and directed a bolt of pure flame into the heart of the bonfire, and this had the desired effect. Immediately the staff started vibrating and shaking, and let out a low keening cry. As the fire intensified, the wail grew to an inhuman scream that overwhelmed you with horror, until finally it stopped when the staff disintegrated into ash.

The Martikov’s relief was palpable. You felt sure this was a good deed you had done.

Setting off due South from the vineyard, you soon found yourself in a dense wood of overhanging trees and dim light. The fog here seemed colder and thicker than your average fog, but you pressed on determinedly.

Towering round hill topped by a stone circle and enormous tree

Yester Hill

You emerged from the path to find an enormous hill, towering 500ft above you and covered with dead grass and dotted with cairns of polished black rock. Dark ominous clouds gathered high above, and a single bolt of lightning struck something on the hilltop. To the West, the land, the woods, and the very sky vanish behind a billowing wall of fog.

Two paths wound around the hill, 100ft apart. You started to circle the lower one, studying the 10ft high cairns of slimy black rock as you walked. Zandeyr decided to take a closer look, seeking knowledge and signs, but the ancient rocks were so weather-beaten with age that they had been worn to a smooth surface.

As he rooted around at the base of one cairn, he suddenly stopped. A whispered voice in his head spoke:

Long have I waited for one who is worthy. My spear hungers for blood. Retrieve it, and rule these mountains in my stead, just like the mighty warriors from the early days of the Whispering Wall.

Zandeyr said there was a spirit here, and more importantly an object, and he had to find it. You continued your circumnavigation, and after reaching nearly to the other side Zandeyr pointed to a cairn and said this was the place.

With some effort you shifted the massive stones, and digging beneath revealed an grave, with long dead remains and a magnificent blood red spear. Zandeyr was quick to take it, and could feel the heft and lore behind it’s well weighted haft.

Red spear

Blood Spear

Continuing around the second path, you could see a grove of gnarled trees 100ft above you , and some kind of circle of stones. Cautiously you walked up the final slope toward the hilltop, and hid behind the stone ring.

The wide ring of black boulders and smaller rocks formed a makeshift wall enclosing a field of dead grass. Occasional strikes of lightning on the wall illuminated a ghastly, 50ft tall statue made of woven twigs and packed with black earth. The statue resembled a towering, cloaked man with fangs. You could make out some kind of green glow from within the figure’s chest.

Arrayed in a semi-circle around the wicker figure were 9 Druids and 3 heavily armed but almost naked strongmen, garbed in scraps of animal skin and painted with mud. The Druids were chanting softly, seemingly waiting for something to happen.

As you watched and waited, the lightning strikes suddenly stopped, and the temperature dropped precipitously. High above you you saw a jet black steed hovering, it’s mane a blaze of flame and eyes searing red. Mounted atop was the Dread Lord Strahd. He looked down, and the Druids ritual suddenly changed into a rabid and frenzied chant.

It didn’t seem like a good idea to let this continue.

Bannor vanished and headed toward the wicker man, intending to free who or whatever was encased in the figure. The rest of you unleashed whatever ranged attacks you had on the nearest Druids, and the battle was entered.

The Berserker warriors made a beeline for your hiding spots, and before long Garn, Viktor, and the flashing blades of young Zane were engaged. Xarann and Zandeyr peppered the Druids with their flames and arrows, but the Druids barely reacted, their concentration focused on the ritual.

Bannor reached the wicker man and quickly climbed up its back, reaching the mid point with ease. He determined their was nothing living inside, but he could see a glowing green shape the size of a head embedded in the centre of the chest cavity. He started to hack into the sticks and mud in order to remove it.

Meanwhile the rest of you took care of the warriors, or at least Zane did, striking the killing blow on each, much to Garn’s… delight. The Druids were starting to fall too as you charged toward them. One broke her trance and turned toward you, unleashing a wave of force that knocked Garn down — Zane was good enough to haul him to his feet again in lieu of an attack.

As you fought on, Bannor tried again and again to wrench the power source from the wicker Strahd, but was foiled each time by the gnarled branches growing back and encasing his arm and hand. All the while, Strahd watched impassively from above, not interfering.

Another Druid forced you back, knocking Zane over this time — but Garn didn’t replay the earlier favour. Noted.

The wicker man started to move slightly as the Druid chant reached a fever pitch. Zandeyr hurled a oil flask at the side of the statue, and Xarann followed up with a bolt of flame that caught fire immediately. Bannor could feel the heat but refused to give up, grasping and reaching, and failing again. In desperation Zandeyr flung his new spear into the side of the waking wickerman, embedding it deep into its side.

The statue was now fully animated, and started unleashing blows from its huge arms while trying to grapple you with roots that burst from the ground all around. Viktor at last saw an opening and cast a beam of holy light into the heart of the wicker chest, tunnelling a clear path to the glow within.

Bannor reached within and finally wrenched the object free, falling backwards as he did. The wickerman exploded in a shower of branches and a howl of bestial horror.

Zane softened Bannor’s fall and his father did the same for Zandeyr, who had clambered up to take his precious spear back. The clearing was suddenly quiet again, the last of the Druids dead, and the rain of sticks and wood finished.

Strahd slowly rode down on his nightmare steed, and hovered above you.

“Impressive. You are most impressive. Of course this is but a minor — and temporary — victory, but I have long waited for some as worthy as you appear to be. I look forward to our next meeting — I pray you do too.”

He moved his mount down to the tallest stone in the ring, and looked out Westward. You looked too, and in the curtain of fog you saw a white fortress on a hill above a great city. The city appeared distant, and the fog obscured all detail, but you heard what sounded like the echo of a church bell.

Strahd stared out, pensive, almost wistful. Then he pulled on the reigns of his steed and disappeared into the dark sky above.

Hill with circular paths circumnavigating it, a stone circle and trees atop

Map of Yester Hill. Buy from Mike Schley here

Session played: 9 September 2019