Feast of the Moon: Halloween Haunting 2020

Session 1

In the years since Mount Hotenow erupted, the city of Neverwinter had undergone many changes. In recent years, with the sealing of the great Chasm, efforts were underway to rebuild the city back to its former glory under the direction of Lord Protector Dagult Neverember. However, elements along the Sea of Swords had set their set their eyes on Neverwinter for their own nefarious ends. In a surprise nighttime raid, raiders from the sea assaulted the shores of Neverwinter, unleashing a fury of storm and spells upon the defenders. Defenders of Neverwinter bravely rallied back, but the defense had scarcely begun before the raiders retreated back into the open seas. However, their true objective was soon revealed as reports began to rapidly come in of strange occurrences around Neverdeath, the graveyard of Neverwinter.

A cabal of powerful spellcasters had made their way into Neverdeath, having slain the guards around the gate on their path there, their path cleared by the raiders from the sea. Just what they had planned within its confines was unknown, but it was not long before a thick, obscuring mist could be seen spreading out from Neverdeath, growing at a slow but steady pace. Those caught within the mist’s embrace vanished and were not seen again. But even beyond the borders of the mist, other inexplicable phenomena began to occur in the area around the graveyard: reports of dread creatures of the night, of people disappearing without a trace, of strange new buildings appearing and disappearing. Most alarmingly, Castle Never was seen flickering in and out of being, some other castle appearing in its place instead…

With the city of Neverwinter under siege, Lord Protector Neverember contacted the Hawthorne Guild to deal with the matter before further chaos or incident can ensue. Blank, leader of the Hawthorne Guild, and the various agencies of the guild, including the Children of Mercy, the Hawthorne Roses, and the Hawthorne Watch, have mobilized assets to see to the matter. Five of the most experienced and skilled members of the guild had been gathered: Chrystelle Lockhart, Horace, Lucille Astora, Lyndis Fionnlagh, and Keinen Fionnlagh.

Chrystelle was a powerful and devoted cleric of Liira who also was the head of the Children of Mercy guild agency, running the hospital in Hawthorne. She had recently completed a major assignment in Chult in quelling the Elder Dinosaur Etali, whose rage threatened to flood the entirety of Chult. Horace was a veteran member of the Hawthorne Watch, a paladin whose fanatical dedication to hunting down evildoers was renowned among the guild. Horace was tasked with guarding some of the most valuable and dangerous artifacts kept in custody within the guild, and he had recently returned from a sabbatical away from the guild.

Lucille was a devoted cleric of the Raven Queen, whose last mission had involved a foray into the Shadowfell to help restore the holy sword Dawnfire, the namesake of the ancient Order of Dawnfire. Lyndis Fionnlagh was among the most skilled and experienced archers in the guild, renowned for having participated in the battle against the Titan Bohu and having helped to seal the elder being away. She was wife to Keinen Fionnlagh, a highly experienced and skilled member of the guild himself. A paladin of Ilmater, Keinen had tirelessly strived to seek the light of redemption in those he could. He had been among the participants who had helped seal away the Titan Bohu with his wife, and he had recently been on an assignment in the Ice Spires which resulted in quelling a powerful cult of fire giants dedicated to Mephistopheles and to helping destroy an artifact personally created by Mephistopheles himself.

The highly experienced group of adventurers had been gathered to meet with Blank, guild leader of the Hawthorne Guild, as well as the commanders of the Hawthorne Roses and the Hawthorne Watch, Richter Hawthorne and Ophelia d’Vespere respectively. In the course of the briefing, the five adventurers learned that intelligence coordinated between the city of Neverwinter and assets of the Hawthorne Guild had revealed that the raiders were among members of Blacktide’s Swords, the very same pirate organization that had assaulted Hawthorne earlier in the year. As for the cabal of spellcasters, it was believed that they may have additional associations with the cult of Crimson Ascension, the same cult the guild had dealt with earlier in the year when the cult’s plan to resurrect the dead god Haemnathuun the Blood Lord was foiled.

The cabal seemed to be in the process of conducting a ritual that was drawing upon the energies of the Shadowfell, a plane whose influence was potent not only within the city of Neverdeath, but the energies of which are amplified given the time of year as the Feast of the Moon approached on the day tomorrow. The incidents observed in Neverwinter were consistent with that of major planar bleeding, with parts of the Shadowfell and Neverwinter intermingling. The cabal’s aim seemed to be to either pull a region of the Shadowfell into the Material Plane, or perhaps pull the area around the graveyard into the Shadowfell. Either way, neither outcome would mean anything good for the city of Neverwinter.

The party also learned that intelligence indicated that the ritual was anchored by a powerful influence on the Shadowfell that allowed the magic to take root and continue to develop. It was believed that if the anchor in the Shadowfell were dealt with directly, the magic of the ritual would collapse, and the two planes would become separated once more. The briefing concluded, leaving the party to make their own preparations to deploy immediately the following day.

Chrystelle and Lucille, along with the aid of Keinen, cast powerful enchantments that enhanced one’s vitality and warded against death upon the entire party, with Chrystelle additionally preparing a fortifying feast fit for heroes to serve as breakfast on the next day. Horace gave a stirring and rousing speech as the party neared the completion of their preparations in the morning. The party’s assignment had come to the attention of Velu Velu, a platinum rank adventurer herself and who knew Lucille personally. She offered her aid to the party, imbuing everyone present with a potent spell of mind blank to shield their minds from any influences that would seek to corrupt or twist it or divine upon the party.

With their preparations complete, the party received magical transport to immediately transit to the location of Neverwinter. They quickly made their way through the gates, having been cleared ahead of time. They met briefly with Dagult Neverember, a former lord of Waterdeep and now Lord Protector of the city of Neverwinter, who provided them with additional context concerning the situation and the threat to the city of Neverwinter. The party departed from Dagult Neverember and made their way deeper into the city, towards where Neverdeath lay. As they walked, they could see Castle Never in the distance and it was as reported: the structure seemed to be flickering in and out of existence, as if something else were trying to take its place. As the party approached the graveyard of Neverdeath, they were unable to see its borders or boundaries: instead, they saw what seemed to be a thick cloud of obscuring and chill mist. The party knew that the only way to resolve the issue was by moving forward.

The party collectively and intentionally moved into the mist. Immediately, each member of the party found themselves enveloped by a surge of cold mist, blocking off their sight entirely. Sensation from the chill and the fog began to fade, as members of the party were so caught in the fog that they could neither see nor hear each other and were unable to see even their own hands. After what seemed like a long time stumbling about, the mist began to clear, as the party could hear the sound of thunderclaps in the distance.

The party collectively emerged from the mist to find themselves in the midst of a thunderstorm, torrential rain pouring down on top of them. They were standing in the massive courtyard of a castle keep, with an enormous castle that loomed before them. Around the keep, illuminated only briefly by the lances of lightning in the sky, the party could see stone gargoyles perched along the battlements and walls. Behind the party lay a sealed gate and portcullis, beyond which only the mist could be seen. Ahead the party lay the entrance into the castle, a pair of torches on iron sconces on either side of the gate providing scant illumination.

As the party tried to get their bearings on the situation, there was another flash of lightning and the roil of thunder that briefly blinded the party. As their vision cleared, the party could now clearly see a pair of individuals standing outside the castle entrance. To their left was an elf with brown skin and long black hair, garbed in black studded leather with a gray cloak and a polished scimitar hanging off his belt. To his side was another figure entirely: a man with pale skin and drawn back black hair, dressed in a resplendent but faded red tunic. A red brooch closed the dark cloak mantled around his shoulders. In spite of the wind and rain, he seemed entirely unperturbed, and he gazed upon the party with a pair of glittering red eyes.

The man with red eyes spread his arms and declared in an accented voice that his name was Count Strahd von Zarovich, lord of the valley of Barovia and of Ravenloft beyond, and that the party had found themselves before his home, that of Castle Ravenloft. He noted there was quite a dreadful storm outside, and he offered the party the hospitality of his home to enter and enjoy respite from the storm. The party meanwhile was caught off guard by the strange and sudden sights around them: they were nowhere near Neverdeath it seemed, and the appearance of this “Strahd” and his castle was just as strange.

After a few moments passed, Keinen stepped forward, accepting the invitation on behalf of the party, introducing himself as Keinen Fionnlagh. Horace stared at Strahd with suspicion, but in time, the party agreed to enter the castle. Strahd seemed pleased, and he turned to the elf beside him, informing him to see to the new guests, and that he would await them in the dining hall. The elf, whose name was Rahadin, bowed at his lord’s command.

Strahd then swept his cape aside as he turned around and walked into the castle. Keinen was startled to see Strahd walk through the wall, though he reasoned he might have just imagined it, and that Strahd had actually just gone through a slight opening in the door he hadn’t seen. Rahadin meanwhile turned to face the party as he bowed, declaring that his lord had granted the party entrance to the keep and that they were to follow. As Rahadin spoke, the doors to Castle Ravenloft shuddered open, rich, warm light now spilling out into the courtyard.

The party made to follow, with Keinen’s steed, Chocolate Sauce, close at hand. Keinen inquired if it was possible to bring his steed within, but Rahadin replied that it would have to be stabled. Rahadin offered to guide Keinen’s steed to the stables, and after a moment of consideration, Keinen agreed. As Rahadin went to Chocolate Sauce and began to guide him to the stables, Chocolate Sauce seemed particularly distressed. Keinen, who was in telepathic contact with his mount, learned that Chocolate Sauce had heard the sounds of thousands and thousands of howling screams of men, women, and children in proximity to Rahadin, a sound which had greatly disturbed Chocolate Sauce. Keinen was also disturbed that something like that were associated with Rahadin, and he warned the party that the castle chamberlain may not be all that he had seemed.

Rahadin swiftly returned, his expression unchanged, as he escorted the party within the halls of Castle Ravenloft. As the party made their way within, they found themselves in a vaulted entry foyer, a quartet of statues of stone dragons perched above, their eyes seeming to glare down at those below. Ahead were a second set of doors. Rahadin stepped forward to open the door, revealing a grand hall beyond. As soon as the doors were opened, the air was suddenly filled with the sound of organ music playing in the distance.

The party made their way within, Rahadin close at their side. The entry chamber was wide, with a vaulted ceiling with faded and cracked ceiling frescoes. Torches dimly lit the hall, the flames fluttering from the wind from their places on iron sconces along the pillars that supported the ceiling. The torchlight cast odd shadows across the faces of eight stone gargoyles that were perched along the rim of the stone ceiling. Beyond the entry hall and in line with the door the party had entered through, the party could see a closed set of bronze double doors. To their left, a wide staircase ascended into darkness. To their right, they could see a lit hallway through which the sad and majestic organ tones continued to play.

Rahadin led the party down the hallway, stopping before a door on the western face through the swells of organ music could be heard, spilling a melody of power and defeat. A suit of glistening and oiled armor lay on display in a shallow alcove near the door, and on the opposite side was a narrow corridor that led to a staircase that went both up and down. As the party approached the door, Rahadin opened it to allow the party to enter within.

The party entered a dining hall, three enormous crystal chandeliers providing illumination within the chamber. The walls seemed to be made of a dull white marble with stone pillars supporting the ceiling. At the room’s center lay a long table covered in fine satin cloth and laden from end to end with all manner of delectable foods: meats, fruits, vegetables, and more, filling the air with a pleasant and tantalizing aroma. Places were already set around the table, with fine, delicate china and silver set, along with a crystal goblet at each place as well, filled with an amber liquid that had a distinct and delicate fragrance.

At the center of the room on the far end opposite the door lay a massive organ between floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Seated at the organ, facing away from the party, was Strahd, playing the instrument in seemingly raptured ecstasy. The organ pipes blared out a thunderous melody of greatness and despair. Strahd continued to play as the music reached a crescendo, and as it did, the music suddenly ceased, as he rose and turned to face the party.

Strahd seemed pleased that the party had indeed arrived, and he invited them to take their seats and help themselves to the food. Keinen noted that Strahd played very well, to which Strahd smiled. Horace asked for just how long Strahd had played, suspicious as he was of their red eyed host, but Strahd simply said that he did not practice overly long, only for a few years at most and these days only played the organ on occasions.

Strahd sat at the end of the table opposite the door, while Horace sat at the other opposite end nearest the door. Keinen and Lyndis sat near Strahd, while Chrystelle and Lucille flanked Horace at their own seats. After a moment’s pause, Keinen and Lyndis began to partake of the feast, more out of politeness than due to a desire for sustenance: they had, after all, recently eaten. Horace was disinclined to partake of any of the food, his eyes gazing intently at Strahd. As Keinen tried the wine, he was pleasantly surprised by the taste. As Strahd later informed Keinen of, it was a batch of Barovian Red Mountain, aged 35 years within a cask of evergreen wood.

As the party alternated between feasting or waiting, Strahd inquired of the party as to what had brought them to his castle, and where they hailed from. The party said they came from the Sword Coast, and Strahd admitted that he was not aware of such a land among the lands of Ravenloft. The party said that they had been on a mission to see to a strange mist and reports of a planar disturbance involving the Shadowfell before they had found themselves where they were now. Strahd noted that the mists of Ravenloft could be treacherous in that way indeed.

Strahd then began to inquire of each member of the party in turn, seeking to learn more about each member of the party. Keinen offered to turn the affair into a game, with a question traded for a question, a prospect which seemed to delight Strahd. Strahd began by asking Keinen as to what had brought him to the castle, and he clarified that he did not mean in the sense that he had been part of this mission or anything routine like that: he sought to understand the kind of person that Keinen was, of what lay at the core of his being to drive him to act as he did.

Keinen said that was a question he admitted he was not expecting or entirely prepared to answer, but he said that he was convicted in purpose to seeking to defend and protect the innocent. Strahd took note of this, referring to him as “Sir” Fionnlagh, but Keinen politely but firmly corrected Strahd, as Keinen was no knight, though he was lord of his own set of lands.

Keinen asked Strahd in return as to his own situation, and of just what kind of lord he was. Strahd replied that he was lord of the castle Ravenloft, and of the valley of Barovia and the lands of Ravenloft beyond. Strahd was ultimately one who sought order and to instill in the land and its people, and he had burgomasters across the land tasked to do precisely that. Keinen acknowledged Strahd’s words as reflecting a fair and just approach of things, even if perhaps Keinen sought to temper justice with mercy himself.

Strahd’s attention then shifted to Lyndis, inquiring of her the same question he had asked Keinen. Lyndis introduced herself as “Lyndis Fionnlagh,” and Strahd’s smile widened as he looked between Keinen and Lyndis, as he instantly gathered the nature of their relationship. Lyndis went on to say that, like Keinen, she was a part of the same guild, and that she had largely come along to see to her husband. Strahd wondered if that was her entire reason for being where she was now: was she truly incapable of defining herself independent of her husband. Lyndis thought on those words and agreed that was not the case. She explained that while she was dressed and skilled in battle, it was something she truly detested, as a means of last resort. She sought to cultivate understanding and communication, and she would rather speak to someone before shooting them.

As the pair spoke, Chrystelle recalled something of Strahd: he was the individual that her friend Ophelia d’Vespere had spoken of before. Strahd she knew had been Ophelia’s eternal enemy from Barovia, one she had toiled against throughout all her lives. She informed Horace of this in hushed whispers, and the paladin’s mood darkened further.

Strahd meanwhile was intrigued by Lyndis’s ethos, as her ideals of peace seemed to clash with Lyndis’s skill and outward profession for combat. He turned to Chrystelle, saying that she struck him as a lady of the cloth, a priest endowed with divine purpose. Chrystelle acknowledged that she was, as a cleric of Liira. Strahd seemed unfamiliar with the deity and was intrigued to learn more about Chrystelle and her deity. Chrystelle seemed only happy to speak further of Liira’s nature as a bringer of joy. Chrystelle explained that Liira was a deity from the same place the rest of the party had come from, and that perhaps Ravenloft had its own and separate set of gods. Strahd agreed that seemed to be the case. Strahd noted however that for as passionately as Chrystelle spoke of joy and of combating darkness and evil, he suspected that those were the words and conviction of one who had been steeped in nothing but rank evil. Chrystelle reluctantly acknowledged that this was the case.

Strahd’s attention then turned to Horace, who had remained silent and glowering at Strahd all the while. Strahd said with some amusement that Horace did not seem interested to partake of the food or drink, to which Horace replied that he had already eaten. Strahd said in return that food was not simply a matter of sustenance, and there was such a thing as eating for pleasure.

Strahd then continued by asking Horace the same question he had asked the others, as to the kind of person that he was, and he noted that Horace seemed to have an unusual set of armor, with parchment and scriptures pinned to it. Horace explained his creed as a paladin who sought to fight the greater evil at any cost, and that what was pinned to his armor were the sins and transgressions of others. Only once he knew someone had transgressed was he bade to strike them down for their actions. Horace then demanded of Strahd if he knew the name “Ophelia d’Vespere.” Strahd thought of it for a moment before he shook his head: the name, and not the family name either, were familiar to him, and he was familiar with all the major families of Barovia and much of Ravenloft beyond. Chrystelle and Horace intently assessed Strahd for any signs of deception at his words, but the lord of Castle Ravenloft proved an enigmatic and difficult person to read.

Strahd replied with an observation of his own: if Horace sought to garb himself in the sins of others, and that he fought against those who had sinned, did that mean Horace thought himself sinless? Horace glowered at Strahd’s observation, while Keinen chuckled at Strahd’s words. Horace ground out with gritted teeth that he did not take himself to be sinless or to have never transgressed, but regardless that he was bound to seek out retribution where it was called for. The reply did not seem to entirely satisfy Strahd, but the lord of the land moved on to speak with Lucille.

He also noted that Lucille seemed to be one devoted to the gods, though from her attire and affect, he struck her as though she were a priestess in service to Mother Night. Lucille said that she was not familiar with Mother Night, and that she was instead a cleric of the Raven Queen. Her purpose was to ensure that things came to their proper ends, and that beings did not live beyond their time: those who extended their lives without end or sought immortality were things displeasing to the Raven Queen and that to which Lucille sought to combat. Strahd however replied that seemed rather self-serving of a god who was herself an immortal being: curious then that she bade her followers to strike down those who sought or had the same.

Strahd then turned to face and address the entire party. He thanked the party for being stimulating conversationalists, and that he had not met such interesting and varied folk in a while. He offered for the party to partake in an evening’s entertainment, another game as it were. The party at first seemed to disagree with the prospect: their mission had been to seen to this anchor in the Shadowfell to end the planar disturbance. A few in the party considered making their way out of the castle and into Barovia beyond. Strahd advised the party against it, as the mists could prove quite disorienting and dangerous at this time. Keinen for his part seemed intrigued by the prospect of an evening’s entertainment, and stated that the party did not have further leads beyond the castle at this time. Reluctantly, others in the party agreed that perhaps the castle offered what they sought.

Strahd seemed pleased that the party would stay, and he indicated that the game they were to play was no ordinary game. The game went by many names, but the name he preferred was simply the “Hunt.” It would be a test of wills in mortal combat: the party against that of the lord of Castle Ravenloft, Strahd von Zarovich. The atmosphere in the room grew tense as Strahd spoke, though Lucille tried to partially diffuse the tension by joking that it was the most dangerous game there was after all, and Strahd exchanged a grin with Lucille.

Strahd further explained the rules of the Hunt that he proposed, saying that as the party were, they stood no chance against him. Instead, the tools the party needed to stand a chance could be found within the castle itself, scattered across different locations within the castle. The party had until the witching hour to find whatever artifacts they could, exploring the wonders and the horrors of Castle Ravenloft at their leisure. Then, at the appointed hour, Strahd would arrive to do battle regardless of the party’s condition at the appointed time, to see who stood the better.

Keinen offered to decline Strahd’s invitation of this deadly game, but Strahd rejected Keinen’s refusal. As Strahd noted, they were in his home now, and whether they liked it or not, they were now unwitting participants in the game. They choose to partake to earn a fighting chance, or simply wait to die. Keinen replied by asking for an hourglass by which to keep time, to which Strahd gestured for Rahadin to provide. Rahadin gave Keinen a small hourglass filled with sand, and Keinen accepted it.

Strahd turned to Rahadin, explaining that his chamberlain would provide more details on the rules of the Hunt. Strahd further elaborated that while the party was welcome to explore the castle, they were not to disturb or damage that which was important to him and wherein he had invested his own heart into. With those cryptic words, Strahd departed, vanishing from where he stood, leaving the party and Rahadin in silence.

Rahadin then turned to the party, speaking in the wake of Strahd’s departure. He explained that three treasures lay within the castle, and that it was only due to Strahd’s generosity that he granted the party a fighting chance at all: feeble prey was boring prey. Three gifts the party could find: knowledge, the sword, and the shield. The party was told to look to “the resting place of the sleeping prince,” to “where the woman hangs above the roaring fire,” and finally to a “place of supplication.” As to where Strahd lay, Rahadin informed the party that the lord had business elsewhere, engaged in finding the rifts that span the mists themselves. The party was assured that Strahd would be present at the proper time.

With that, Rahadin turned to exit the room, as the party began to gather themselves for the Hunt. The night was still young, but the Hunt had begun, and time was not the party’s ally…

Session 2

As Rahadin departed, the party quickly made preparations to set out for this Hunt. They considered just where these treasures may lie, as they considered each of the clues in turn. The “resting place of a sleeping prince” they reasoned must have been some kind of tomb or crypt. A “place of supplication” was likely a place of prayer. As for where “a woman hung before a roaring fire,” the party was yet uncertain. The party decided to make their way to the spiral staircase they had seen in the corridor opposite the dining hall.

As the party made their way outside the dining hall however, the suit of armor in the alcove drew its sword and attacked! It caught the party temporarily off guard, as the party swiftly retaliated, but behind them the party could hear torches from the entry chamber being snuffed out. There was the sound of swooping wings, and joining the suit of armor in battle were the gargoyles from before as well! There were eight gargoyles in total: six of them had long spindly arms and horns atop their head, while two of them were solidly and powerfully built. As the suit of armor struck out at the party, the smaller gargoyles harried and harassed the party, striking out before flying away out of reach. The larger gargoyles meanwhile dove into the fray, as they slammed their entire body weight down to attempt to crush those below.

In spite of the surprise assault however, the party bravely rallied back. They weren’t among the finest in Hawthorne for no reason, and working together, the party sought to stem the tide. Horace wielded Keinen’s sword Arbiter in battle, the weapon that had once belonged to the Hand of the Void and sought to unerringly deliver death, while Keinen had chosen to employ Ilmater’s Bleeding Heart, his sword of sunlight. The pair struck out forcefully against the encroaching threat. In the meanwhile, Lyndis darted around the battlefield nimbly, firing out devastating salvos of accurate and powerful shots from her bow. The clerics, Chrystelle and Lucille, drew upon the power of their deities to stem the tide. Lucille attempted to conjure a flock of spiritual ravens around herself, but she was surprised to see her spell warped, conjuring instead a murder of crows that sought to rip apart those around them. In the end, through both spells and steel, the party felled the adversaries before them, leaving the gargoyles as pieces of rubble and the armor as but scraps on the ground. Keinen took up the longsword it had dropped, but beyond that, the battle was ended.

The party took a moment to gather themselves before they pressed towards the eastern spiral staircase as they had decided earlier. After some time debating their next move, they elected to take the stairs downwards. They went down a winding path, before finding a landing. The stairs continued downwards, though the party was disturbed to see the path was laden with silken webs that continually dripped blood. The party elected to get off on the landing, finding a dusty corridor ahead. At the far end of the corridor lay a wooden door.

The party began to advance forward, with Lucille at the lead, but she had scant but taken a few strides forward before a pair of steel portcullises descended from the ceiling, entrapping her in a steel cage! Lyndis was able to react first, but she could only watch helplessly as the entire section rapidly rose up a now revealed shaft, as it seemed that section of the corridor was in fact a cunningly hidden elevator trap. Lucille disappeared out of sight, carried along by the elevator. At the same, the party heard the sound of something extremely heavy rapidly descending beyond the wall: the elevator’s counterweight perhaps.

While the rest of the party struggled to head their bearings, Lucille felt light-headed from the sudden and surprising upward acceleration, the blood rushing out of her head. The chamber began to fill with gas that made Lucille heady and dizzy. She was able to fight off the worst of its effects as the elevator came to a halt, somewhere high above where the party had been. However, she saw no way to immediately return to the party, and being separated without any means of communication could easily mean a death sentence inside the castle.

In the meanwhile, the party was unsure as to what to do about the situation. The shaft extended high upwards, fading into darkness even beyond the edge of Horace’s own eldritch sight. Wherever Lucille had gone, it was high above them. The party decided to press forward through the door Lucille had approached, to try to see if there was another path upward by which they could reunite with her. As they opened the door, they found a wide hall supported by heavy beams. Fog clung and swirled around along the ground. A variety of closed doors could be seen, with a set of stairs that ascended upwards on the far right aside. Also on the right side, a figure began to lurch towards the party, moving away from a grated area that led to somewhere else beyond.

As the figure came into the light, they saw the disturbing sight of a strange and deformed individual. He was hunched short, the left side of his face covered in reptilian scales, while he had the ears of a feline. His left foot was webbed, like a duck’s foot, and his arms were matted with patches of fur. Light flickered from the lantern he carried. Around his neck was a loop of twine, hanging from which was an iron key and a wooden pendant fitted with a varnished eyeball.

The party confronted the strange individual, who spoke in nervous, anxious tones, repeating his words again and again. He introduced himself when asked as “Cyrus Belview.” Cyrus was quite distressed that the party was walking out and about around the castle, claiming that they should be in their “rooms.” Talking further with Cyrus quickly revealed that he did not seem well in the head.

At the same time, far up above, Lucille was exploring her surroundings in the enclosed compartment. The gas had dissipated, and she couldn’t seem to find an exit. However, as she looked upon the ceiling, she found a trapdoor. She pulled it down, revealing a path upward. Lucille climbed upward, pulling herself up into a narrow room. Cold wind blew through the room as Lucille got her bearings. She seemed to be in a narrow landing, with a spiral staircase that ascended upward to the north of her, and another set of stairs that descended down to her south. Beside the trapdoor, Lucille saw an ironbound wooden door, with an ornate square rug behind her. Directly before where she had clambered up was a large framed portrait of Strahd, his expression serene and at rest. Lucille elected to take the spiral staircase upwards, so as to see what lay beyond.

Down below, the party was losing their patience in trying to converse with Cyrus. The man insisted that the party should go to their rooms. As it had been revealed, Cyrus had been seeing to issues in the wine cellar, which lay just beyond the grates to the east. At the mention of “wine,” Keinen had perked up, but his wife swiftly reminded Keinen of the situation, to which the paladin gloomily acquiesced to leaving perhaps for later. As for where this “room” Cyrus sought for the party to go to was, it seemed that Lucille’s path had taken her there, as Cyrus was pleased to hear that she had gone up the elevator. Cyrus offered to escort the party to their room, but the party down below remained suspicions of the strange individual. Keinen tried to reason with Cyrus, attempting to entice him with thoughts of sharing the wine, but Cyrus’s loyalty—and fear—of Strahd was absolute.

The party elected to leave Cyrus be, who refused to answer their questions further. They went back to the corridor, gazing up the shaft. The party elected to simply fly upwards, as each member of the party had the ability to fly by magical means. The party rapidly ascended up the shaft, making their way into the compartment Lucille had been within, before finding the trapdoor she had climbed through. They entered the narrow landing she had, and with a swift glance about the room, they climbed the same staircase that Lucille had taken.

The party ascended into torrential rain and lightning, finding Lucille on the surface. The party now rejoined, they gazed around to see that they were on the roof of a tower rimmed with battlements. The party could see other towers and spires of Ravenloft around them. A slender stone bridge with no railing lay before them, that path treacherous with the slick rain and the strong wind, leading to another tower to the north. From within, the party could see a dull, pulsating red light emanating outwards, obscured and muted by the rain.

The party cautiously advanced across the bridge towards the northern tower and the red light they had seen. They made their way within, out of the rain and into the tower to come across a bizarre sight. A spiral staircase wrapped around the rim of the tower, both ascending and descending. Around the walls on plaques were ten halberds, firmly mounted. However, what caught the party’s eye was what lay at the center of the tower: suspended in mid air by nothing at all, there was a large red crystal in the shape of a beating heart! It pulsated continuously with eerie red light. As each member of the party stepped within the area, they each found themselves doubling over as the world around them began to warp and twist before their very eyes.

Keinen found himself back in Gloomdale, helplessly on his knees as he saw commonfolk lashed to stakes around him. The air was heavy with dust and smoke, causing his eyes to tear, while the smell of burning flesh choked his nostrils and mouth. The screams of burning men, women, and children could be heard, as strange robed figures sacrificed the innocent for their own perverse ends. In the entire of pyre, a great being of Ash arose, called from planes beyond…

Chrystelle saw herself walking with a handsome individual, his mouth spilling words that were honeyed and sweet. She saw herself being taken in by his words, to join with what he was offering. She found herself stumbling into a darkened entrance, confronted with a terrible rotting smell that made her gag. She saw to her horror piles of mutilated bodies all around, grist for the mill for the dark schemes the man she had spoken to had wove. She remembered running away, not just physically but in memory, choosing not to revisit it or do anything about the wrong she had witnessed, and the shame and guilt that had welled up inside her.

Horace found himself stumbling away, battered, bloodied, and half delirious from what he had witnessed and faced, having but scarcely survived the battle with an ancient spirit in the tomb of the hero Vindictus. The visions he had seen had revealed the folly of the ways of him and his brothers, of the terrible fate that was to come. Horace saw himself up to his neck in transgression and sin, each deed and experiment he performed more horrifying than the last. He remembered kneeling before the man who bore the mark of the Scarlet Prince and the demands he had made. Last of all, he remembered being caught in eternal light, staring at the world unblinking and unchanging, with only his own dark deeds to keep him company.

Lucille saw herself learning at the feet of a mighty and powerful wizard, a man willing to sacrifice anything for his own ambition. She found herself committing misdeed after misdeed for this man’s sake, helping him ascend up the ranks in the land of Thay, even as the deeds indelibly stained and darkened her soul. She recalled those who had been close with, also following her… even unto their own deaths.

Lyndis meanwhile saw herself amid a circle of captured humans, their voices and expressions begging for mercy, though Lyndis’s cold gaze had none to give. She recalled being in the midst of a terrible situation, and the horror and sorrow she had felt as her friends had sacrificed themselves for her own sake.

The world shifted and changed around them, and the entire party was staggered and horrified by the sights they had seen, and the sounds they had heard. Due to the various warding magics that had been placed upon them as well as their own individual strength of will, the party had managed to retain a hold of themselves, if only barely.

For a moment, the world around them had physically warped, casting them back in the throes of the worst moments and memories of their lives, even ones they thought had forgotten or left buried deep beneath the surface. The Shadowfell was a place that constantly shifted, changed, and moved, but the place the party had entered had physically manifested the worst aspects and moments each of them had lived through, long buried emotion made real, if only temporarily. The party knew, from the overwhelming surge of memories and stifling and heavy atmosphere that they had walked into an area rife with evil, the very air bursting to the brim with it. The party had entered a sinkhole of evil, a place where an utterly vile act had been committed, tainting the very area around it. And the crystal heart lay right at the epicenter of it all...

In the wake of the tumult the party had experienced, Horace glared at the crystal heart, declaring to the party that such a thing must be destroyed. Lyndis, even in the wake of the experience she had undergone, seemed hesitant. For her own sake and in spite of the nature of the Hunt, she desired to seek a peaceable means to resolve the issue and convince Strahd not to further continue the path of bloodshed. The area the party had entered was very likely something the party was not intended to interfere with, and Strahd had been rather particular about not to disrupt anything he had invested his own heart into, and they were now gazing at a literal crystal heart…

In the end, Horace’s argument won out, given the sheer intensity of the evil the party had witnessed and experienced. Horace grasped Arbiter, the inevitable sword ready to bring an end to the Heart. As Horace moved forward to strike, his first glow glanced off the surface of the crystal. The moment he struck the Heart however, the halberds mounted on the wall detached themselves, and began to move towards the party! The halberds struck out against those within reach. The party rallied, taking up defensive positions while Horace continued to try to cut into the Heart with Arbiter. At last, a strike from the blade sank in. Spiderweb-like cracks formed on the surface of impact, as bits of crystal were chipped away. Disturbingly, what seemed like blood began to bleed from where Horace had struck, and the Heart gave off a keening wail as if from pain. Horace was undeterred and continue to strike at the Heart, Arbiter proving adept at cutting into the tough crystal.

However, the crystal heart proved quite hardy, as it took considerable effort for Horace to make real headway into destroying it, even with the use of Arbiter. The party continued to defend against the halberds as Horace tried to destroy the heart. However, after several seconds, the voice of Strahd could be heard emanating from throughout the chamber. In a cold and furious voice, Strahd said that he told the party not to interfere with what was his, and a thick fog instantly filled the room. Moments afterwards, the party could hear things crawling up onto the landing, already beginning to strike out at those within reach. Creatures hidden in the fog began to claw out at the party, while another presence struck out within the mist with fluent and swift strikes from some kind of bladed weapon. In the meanwhile, Lucille found herself at the mercy of Strahd himself, whose sword seemingly to uncannily home in towards her vital areas in spite of the obscuring fog.

Horace blindly continued to attack the Heart, but the party knew that the lack of vision would hurt them more than it would help them in the current situation. Chrystelle decided to bring things back to a levelling playing field. She took out a feather from her belt before tossing it into the air, shouting out a word of command as she did so. The feather transformed into a massive fan that blew powerful wind to swirl within the chamber. The fog began to rapidly clear, revealing just what the party was dealing with.

Arranged in different positions around the chamber were creatures that looked like humans, but their skin was as pale as snow, her eyes bloodshot red, and her hands ended in elongated claws. Their mouths were bare, revealing a pair of overly large incisors: they were vampires! The party could see four of them, with one of their number garbed in a black, form fitting suit, a wicked looking rapier held at her side. The rapier seemed to continually drip with blood.

Beside the vampire duelist was a strange and imposing sight. The party could see a large, hulking creature whose body seemed to be wrapped at first what looked like bandages, as akin to a mummy, but the party swiftly realized it was in fact bits of parchment! Glass, stray metal, and other junk could be seen protruding out of the creature’s surface, as it it had been cobbled together out of discarded potions, scrolls, and other magical items. The creature’s head was simply a large dragon skull that gleamed gold, a pair of rubies embedded in its eye sockets that glowed with red light.

And finally, standing directly beside Lucille was Strahd himself. He looked similar to how the party had seen him before, but the party swiftly realized that what they had truly seen earlier must have been an illusion at best. The true Strahd that stood before seemed to have a literal aura of darkness around, repelled only where it met the light of Keinen’s sword. His face was fixed in an expression of cold fury, and he held in a hand a rapier whose hilt was stylized into the shape of a bat, the blade made of midnight-black steel. As the presence of Strahd physically became visible, it was immediately afterwards that the party was instantly aware of the sheer presence he projected, an aura of palpable power that seemed to scramble the sense and terrify: even in spite of Keinen’s conviction and presence!

Chrystelle conjured a weapon of crackling force to strike out, as she began to take up a defensive position. Lyndis managed to hold back the tide of fear welling up inside her at the sight of Strahd, and she began to unleash arrows into the fray to strike out at the vampires gathered around. Keinen sought to follow up his wife’s volley, but he found himself swallowing dryly as the sheer presence of Strahd cowed and terrified him uncharacteristically, even if only for a moment. He chose instead to raise Ilmater’s Bleeding Heart, allowing the sunlight to flare and fill the room. The vampires hissed, raising their hands to shield their face as they shied back from the light. However, Strahd seemed completely unmoved, unaffected by the sunlight emanating from Keinen’s sword. Keinen was unsure what to make of the situation, but he chose to charge for Strahd’s construct, knocking it down with a well timed shield bash, before stabbing the blade downwards in a pair of cuts. It burned away at bits of parchment and cut into the strange creature, but it did not otherwise seem overly damaged.

Horace stared Strahd in the eyes, unflinching before he raised Arbiter for one final strike. He brought the inevitable blade down, and cracks appeared all across the surface of the Heart. The crystal groaned before it let loose a painfully loud shriek of agony and pain before the crystal shattered entirely, destroyed by Horace. Crystal shards pelted those within the room before a deluge of blood followed, covering all within the chamber in thick blood.

The blood slid off of Strahd, who fixed Horace with a deathly glare. The lord of the castle clawed at the air, casting a mighty spell to entrap Horace in a crushing vise of force. Horace could feel his bones cracking as the telekinetic grip began to assert itself, but with a surge of effort, he brought through it, as Strahd’s gambit was defeated, which only enraged Strahd all the more.

Strahd continued to stab at Lucille, who was beginning to wilt under the assault. His blade opened bleeding wounds where it struck, and Lucille’s lifeblood began to spill onto the floor, melding with the blood from the Heart. The vampire duellist in the meanwhile danced into the fray, flourishing her bloody rapier as she waltzed across the battlefield, striking out at those within reach. However, the light of Keinen’s sword seemed to have thrown her off balance, and she failed to land even a single strike.

Chrystelle allowed the fan to keep blowing, even if the fog had departed. She sent her weapon of force into the fray, as she conjured holy light with her other hand to descend upon her foes. The construct proved remarkably resilient, able to dodge out of the way of Chrystelle’s magic. Lyndis in the meanwhile had realized by now that the prospect of a peaceable resolution was now far out of the question. She continued to sent arrows deftly into the fray, focusing on the vampires within her sight.

Strahd’s construct then rose from where it had been knocked down. It opened its maw and spread its arms wide as a miasma of choking dust began to fill the air around it. However, with the aid of Keinen and Horace, the party was able to withstand the worst of the effects. It then began to attack Lucille, striking her with powerful blows that also seemed to also be deathly cold to the touch. Keinen moved to Lucille’s aid. While he was still terrified of Strahd, that did not mean he was unable to help his allies. He knocked the construct over once more, striking down with a pair of powerful strikes.

The vampires continued to harangue and harass those within their reach, though the light of Keinen’s sword warded them away, and those within it screamed in agony as their flesh began to burn. Horace strode amongst the fray, Arbiter lashing out to cut the tide of undead around him down. Lucille in the meanwhile continued to conjure raking claws that dripped with acid against those within her reach, even as Strahd continued to ply his blade against her. She was approaching her limit as Strahd invariably stabbed her with her sword. However, the lord seemed annoyed by Keinen’s actions in attacking his construct and for the sunlight produced by the blade. He ensnared Keinen in his telekinetic grip and let the paladin go. However, instead of plummeting down the length of the tower like a rock, Keinen simply floated in place, held aloft by the magic of the item he had borrowed from Chrystelle!

Strahd was surprised for a moment before his eyes narrowed, and Keinen, in spite of his fear, found the situation morbidly hilarious. Chrystelle attempted to aid Lucille, sending her spiritual weapon forward before she invoked the power of Liira. While Chrystelle felt it difficult to feel the divine presence of her deity, holy light began to glow within the room as she restored the vitality of her allies around her. Lucille’s wounds kept her from fully healing, but Chrystelle’s efforts would perhaps allow her to survive at least another blow.

Lucille arose as she drew back for a powerful spell, to inflict potent death magic upon the construct Keinen had felled and was now weakening given the party’s attention upon it. However, the construct attempted to counterspell her! In retaliation, Keinen cast a counterspell of his own against the construct, and Strahd finally elected to counterspell Keinen’s own counterspell. The net result of the dizzying exchange of spells is that Lucille’s deadly spell fizzled, and she cursed at the wasted expenditure of powerful magic.

The construct rose, and Strahd commanded it to envelop the party in flame. As the party had learned, the construct was named “Rex,” or so Strahd called it in his commands. The construct vanished in a puff of mist before reappearing at the edge of the bridge, before the maw of the dragon skull opened. Golden flame could be seen welling up inside before a plume of red-gold fire enveloped several among the party.

However, even in spite of the flame, Horace charged into the fray towards the construct, Lyndis supporting him arrows from behind. The vampires had been felled, disintegrating into ash before the light of Keinen’s sword. Horace struck out with Arbiter at the construct, Lyndis’s arrows finding their mark not long after. It was only a matter of time before the construct Rex was destroyed.

In the realization that his minions had been slain and that his prized construct might follow soon after, Strahd spent a final salvo of sword strikes against Lucille before he began to walk away. The cleric vengefully conjured another dark claw coated in acid to strike out at Strahd. She invoked the power of the Raven Queen to amplify the power of the strike. However, though the blow landed, Strahd simply kept walking. He glanced at Lucille briefly, as the spell had absolutely no effect on Strahd, not even ruffling his garb. He continued walking forward, moving straight through the wall and out onto the side of the tower before moving beside Rex.

Strahd took one final glance at the party as Rex placed a hand wrapped in scrolls upon the lord’s shoulders, and the party vanished from sight entirely. The battle had ended. The party sagged backwards at the sudden loss in tension, still caked in blood, the coppery scent thick and overwhelming. What they witnessed within the chamber had been disturbing to say the least. They had destroyed something which Strahd had clearly valued, even if it were in contravention to what Strahd had asked before. The party had defeated Strahd’s minions and forced the lord of the castle to retreat to ensure that his construct was not destroyed, but the events of the battle still weighed heavy on the party’s minds. Just what capabilities did Strahd truly have? If he was in fact a vampire, why did it seem he was entirely immune to sunlight? How was it that his presence could inspire fear even amid Keinen’s presence and the powerful enchantments placed upon the party, and why was it that Lucille’s spell failed to affect him at all? The party wasn’t sure what to make of things, but they began to realize that perhaps there was some truth to that they may well need the artifacts to stand a chance against Strahd. The trick however would be in finding them, and in that the party hadn’t found one quite yet…

Session 3