Getting to the Church on Time

The Long Rest

The Gang laid out their sleeping rolls in various rooms of the dilapidated mansion and finally got some rest, though it was twice interrupted. The first time was at midnight when a procession of eerie green lights was spotted coming through the gaps in the wooden boards nailed across the broken windows. “Oh, those are the spirits of dead adventurers who faced Strahd and lost. It’s been happening for years now.” Said Ismark. “They follow the Svalich road all the way to Ravenloft Castle. I have no idea what happens after that. It occurs nightly.” The second interruption happened several hours later when the howls of wolves and the taunting chants of “Ireena!” was heard just outside of the house. They simply witnessed the events and went back to sleep.

Burying Burgermeister Koylan

At the break of dawn, the solemn procession carried the casket of the former Burgermeister from the mansion to the church sans Moss. Unfortunately, he ate some bad rations and suffered from the green apple splatters*. Ireena and Ismark were happy to leave the miasmic Druid behind.  Along the way, they passed the source of sobbing that the Gang had heard throughout their stay in the Village. “That’s Mary. She’s mad with grief. Her daughter Gertruda disappeared a few weeks ago,” Ireena observed. The Gang collectively shrugged and continued with their burden.

The seven of them reached the Church of the Morninglord. It suffered similar signs of harassment to the mansion and was even more neglected than the Burgermeister’s home. Ismark approached the double doors and knocked loudly several times. No answer was forthcoming. The Gang took the lead and entered the building. The double doors opened to a hallway flanked by four doors, two on each side. The hallway led to the church proper, where someone could be seen kneeling at an altar. Seen beyond the altar was rope that led up to the church’s belltower. He was rhythmically bowing and chanting with manic fervency that was occasionally interrupted by unintelligible yells and growls that came from below. Wildthorn could hear shuffling coming from below his feet, apparently this place had a basement; ya’know, just like the Alamo*.

The Gang entered the church proper and Yor knelt next to the priest and said something like “YOU. MAD.” This absolutely startled the sweaty priest. The poor man seemed completely bonkers and hadn’t had a good night’s sleep or bath in months. Ireena and Ismark identified the man as Father Donavich.

“FATHER! I hunger!” The inhuman, demanding and pleading scream came from below.

The Gang insisted on just what the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks was going on here. Donavich spoke haltingly at first, then the words poured from his mouth, relieved to finally confess his secret. The Priest’s story goes like this:

About a year ago, a powerful wizard gathered a peasant army to assault Castle Ravenloft, Donavich’s son was part of this army. Strahd and this wizard battled on the walls of Ravenloft. The wizard was killed, and the peasant army was wiped out. The lucky peasants were simply dead. Others, like his son, were reborn as undead. Strahd thought it would be humorous to return Doru, now a Vampire Spawn, to his father. The Acolyte of the Morninglord locked his son in the basement, and he’s been there ever since.

After hearing this story, the Gang huddled up and made plans. They decided to put a pin in the “Doru Situation” and bury the Burgermeister first. So, everyone went out back to the graveyard and a proper burial was given to Koylan Indrovich. They returned to the church where they pressed Donavich on his son, Doru. The Priest ignored them and returned to the altar where he sunk back into his prayerful state of denial. Frustrated, the Gang decided to take matters into their own hands.

The Doru Situation

Knowing that the Vampire Spawn was located beneath them, the Gang explored the rest of the building to find a way down. They began opening doors in the entrance hall. In their exploration, Roos picked up a lamp and a book entitled “The Blades of Truth: The Uses of Logic in the War Against Diabolist Heresies, as Fought by the Ulmist Inquisition. (1)” Roos deduced that the book mixes logic exercises with lurid descriptions of fiend worshipping cults after leafing through it for a few minutes.

The Gang found a chained and padlocked trapdoor in the last room they explored. Roos and Yor tried to pick the lock but failed. That’s when Roos took out his trusty crowbar and someone busted that sucker open. Right after prying the trapdoor open, Wildthorn could hear something shuffling away from them down below. They lit some lamps, dropped through the trapdoor, and crept down the stairs. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found out what’s been making all that racket.

Backed up in the corner of the basement is what appeared to be a pale disheveled teenager and the smell… oh dear God, the smell. It was as if the kid had locked himself down here with a Commadore 64, gathered a year’s supply of Funyuns and Mountain Dew, and played Sid Meier’s Civilization from Settler to Deity.

“I can smell your blood,” he smiled. His fangs extended and he flexed his dirty clawed hands. “All I need is blood from something living. It doesn’t matter what. A rat or whatever. Just give me blood.”

It seemed to be trying to negotiate in his awkward manner. The Gang paused. Considered. Then rejected any notion of negotiations. Smugly approached and Doru hissed his displeasure. When the Dragonborn closed within twenty feet, it was on. Roll for initiative.

Yor casted Darkness off to the side to provide some cover that he never used.  When they discovered that the Vampire Spawn could regenerate, the Gang began using Radiant Magic to cancel this ability. Doru did not like this at all and began focusing his attacks at first on Skarther who was using Moonbeam. When Skarther hid in the magical darkness that Yor provided, The Vampire Spawn focused his attacks on Wildthorn who was using Sacred Flame. Slowly but surely the Gang was whittling the creature down. Smugly was doing most of the damage by throwing punches in bunches, Roos tacked on damage with his sneak attack, while the spell casters followed this up with Radiant Damage. That’s when the poop hit the fan.

Doru sunk his fangs into Wildthorn’s neck and with a final gasp, the Elven Cleric dropped to the ground dead**. Yor, ignoring his sword, was determined to grapple with the Vampire Spawn. What his endgame was I have no idea. Finally, after suffering some necrotic damage, the Kenku Warlock was able to get ahold of Doru and drag him up the stairs. I guess his plan was to drag the Vampire Spawn out into the daylight. There were two problems with this plan: 1. How was he going to get the creature up through the trapdoor? 2. As the party already knew, the sun in Barovia was consistently blocked. (I blame Lipton’s Hard Iced Tea for this lack of foresight.)

Moss appeared at the trapdoor. “Hey everyone! My case of the Green Apple Splatters has passed! I’m here to help!”

His help wasn’t needed though. Luckily for everyone, especially Yor, Smugly continued to connect punch after punch and Doru dropped to the ground unconscious. Skarther finished the creature with Moonbeam.

Roos marched up the stairs and punched Father Donavich in the back of the head. “Your son just killed my best friend! Don’t worry. We took care your problem and finished that [expletive deleted] off.” The manic light went out of Father Donavich’s eyes. He slumped to the ground and said nothing. A single tear fell down Yor’s feathered face as he felt a pang of jealousy, for he thought he was Roos’s BFF. It was an Elf thing that he would never understand.

The Gang gathered some brushes and reconnoitered out in the cemetery. They lit Wildthorn’s body on fire, said some respectful words, and finished him off with Moonbeam lest the Cleric of Light returned as a Vampire.

Leaving the Village of Barovia

With their powers depleted and suffering from blood drain, the Gang returned to the old mansion and took a long rest. They decided to go to Madam Eva’s encampment, perhaps her divinations could provide some guidance out of their plight. After that, they planned to go to Vallaki where they could find a safe home for Ireena at the church located in town. The Gang’s rest was again interrupted. Yadda yadda yadda green light spirits. Yadda yadda yadda wolves and ghouls.

At the break of dawn, the Gang headed west along the Svalich road. About an hour into their journey, the gang spotted several conspiracies of ravens flying overhead. Ireena smiled. “This is a positive omen. Ravens are considered good luck in Barovia.” Yor was certain that Ireena was flirting with him since he was a Kenku, while the rest of the party just ignored the comment.

They reached the stone bridge that arched over the River Ivlis and they were met with the now-familiar sound of the howls of wolves. The Gang paused on the bridge and decided to use it as a choke point. Sure enough, ten wolves were spotted bearing down on them from the west. Moss cast Spike Growth at the mouth of the bridge. The first several wolves hit the now spiky ground in front of the party and were injured for their efforts. The pack paused for a moment, hesitant on what to do next. They decided to circumvent the party and swim across the river. While the wolves were forced to take this flanking maneuver, the Gang was able to whittle a few of their numbers. Once they reached the other side, they were scattered and engaged with the party in a staggered manner. The Gang defeated them without much trouble. Yay sound tactics!

Madam Eva's Encampment

Around noon, the Gang reached Madam Eva’s encampment. They could see the colorful tents at the edge of the river and sounds of talking and singing by the Vistani. Near the fire sat a hulking man in chain mail armor. His shield, emblazoned with a unicorn and shrike, lay by his side and there were several javelins plunged into the ground. He stood and his silvered war hammer could be seen swaying on his belt.

beeeefcake

“I’m Thalion, Paladin of Meilikki” The holy warrior towered over the party as he told his story of how he arrived int Barovia.

The Paladin was based in Secomber, a town that was several days travel east of Daggerford. The Rods of Justice there had asked Thalion to deal some Vistani merchants that were encamped outside of town. The locals found their presence threatening and a general nuisance. Thalion was tasked to order these Vistani to leave and present them with Written Documents that proclaimed the Paladin was empowered with the authority of the Rods of Secomber.

Thalion met the leader of the Vistani, a man named Stanimir. The leader agreed to leave, if Thalion would hear his tale. The Paladin consented:

“We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten- a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads.

One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn’t say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn’t give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves.

This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said ‘I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.’

A curse has befallen our noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain. We’ve traveled far and wide to find heroes such as yourself to end our dread lord’s curse and put his troubled soul to rest. Our leader, Madam Eva, knows all. Will you return to Barovia with us to speak with her?”

Intrigued and moved by Stanimir’s tale, Thalion agreed. That was about a week ago. The Paladin traveled through the Mist with the Vistani and arrived at the encampment five days ago. To the Paladin’s frustration, Madam Eva has refused to talk to the Paladin since then. The only thing she would say was that “the other five need to be present for the divinations to work.”

END SESSION

*These comments reference a show or movie. Inspiration given to the first two players that can cite these references.

** I screwed up. Necrotic damage will only permanently kill a PC if their MAXIMUM HIT POINTS is reduced to zero. That wasn’t the case here. I talked to Jason about this and gave him the option to bring back Wildthorn, but he opted to play Thalion.

(1) The Blades of Truth: The Uses of Logic in the War Against Diabolist Heresies, as Fought by the Ulmist Inquisition

Logic is the practice that explains what conditions must be fulfilled in order that a proposition may be proved, if it admits of proof. Not, indeed, every such proposition; for as to those that declare the equality or inequality of numbers or other magnitudes, to explain the conditions of their proof belongs to mathematics: they are said to be quantitative. But as to all other propositions, called qualitative, like most of those that we meet with in conversation, in literature, in politics, and even in the schools of magic so far as they are not treated mathematically; propositions that merely tell us that something happens (as that salt dissolves in water), or that something has a certain property (as that ice is cold): as to these, it belongs to Logic to show how we may judge whether they are true, or false, or doubtful. When propositions are expressed with the universality and definiteness that belong to scientific statements, they are called laws; and laws, so far as they are not laws of quantity, are tested by the principles of Logic, if they at all admit of proof.

But it is plain that the process of proving cannot go on forever; something must be taken for granted; and this is usually considered to be the case (1) with particular facts that can only be perceived and observed, and (2) with those highest laws that are called ‘axioms’ or ‘first principles, of which we can only say that we know of no exceptions to them, that we cannot help believing them, and that they are indispensable to science and to consistent thought. Logic, then, may be briefly defined as the science of proof with respect to qualitative laws and propositions, except those that are axiomatic.

Bearing this in mind, let us turn our attention to the ancient conjuration spell Cacodemon, which has fallen out of use among summoners who, these days, prefer a more versatile or powerful approach to planar summoning. This perilous exercise in dweomercraeft summons up a powerful demon of type IV (Nalfeshnee), V (Marilith), or VI (Balor), or another demon having a given name, e.g. a succubus or a quasit, depending upon the demon’s name being known to the magic-user. Only the given name of the creature in question is necessary to work this spell, as compared to ensnarement which requires the true name, but on the other hand this spell can only bring about demons, not devils or other such lower planar creatures. Note that this spell is not of sufficient power to bring a demon of greater power, and lesser sorts are not called as they have no known given names. In any event, the spell caster must know the name of the demon they are summoning.

As the spell name implies, the demon so summoned is angry and evilly disposed. The spell caster must be within a circle of protection and the demon confined within a pentagram if they are to avoid being slain or carried of by the summoned cacodemon. The summoned demon can be treated as follows: The spell caster can require the monster to perform a desired course of action by force of threat and pain of a spiritwrack spell, allowing freedom whenever the demon performs the full extent of the service, and forcing the demon to pledge word upon it. This is exceedingly dangerous, as a minor error in such a bargain will be seized upon by the monster to reverse the desired outcome or simply to kill and devour the summoner. Furthermore, the demon will bear great enmity for the magic-user forever after such forced obedience, so the spell caster had better be most powerful and capable.

By tribute of fresh human blood and the promise of one or more human sacrifices, the summoner can bargain with the demon for willing service. Again, the spell caster is well advised to have ample protection and power to defend himself or herself, as the demon might decide the offer is insufficient — or it is easier to enjoy the summoner’s slow death — and decide not to accept the bargain as offered. Although the demon will have to abide by a pledge, as his name is known, they will have to hold only to the exact word of the arrangement, not to its spirit. As this method to strike a bargain is most often used by highly evil magic-users the demon may very well be favorably disposed towards its summoner. The summoned demon can be the object of a trap the soul spell. In this case, the magic user will not speak with or bargain for the demon’s services, although the demon might be eager to reach an accord with the dweomercraefter before they is forced into imprisonment. The trapping of the demon is risky only if proper precautions have not been taken, for failure to confine the monster usually means only that it is able to escape to its own plane. If the demon is later freed, and the individual doing thus fails to demand a service when the monster asks what is required of him, the demon is under no constraint not to slay the liberator(s) on the spot, but if a service is required, the creature must first to his best to perform it and then return to the Abyss.

The duration of service of any demon must be limited unless the demon is willing to serve for an extended period. Any required course of action or service which effectively requires an inordinate period of time to perform, or is impossible to perform, is 50% likely to free the demon from his obligations and enable him to be unconstrained in his vengeance upon the spell caster if they are not thereafter continually protected, for a demon so freed can remain on the plane it was summoned to for as long as 666 days.

[The book continues on like this for hundreds of pages]