02/11/2026: Strangers

The trio, Komzin, Bayleaf and Rakthe leave the stranger Neferon, who enters the titanic statue through a door on one of the giant’s heels. They move carefully through the Amber Temple's lower level, beginning their search for Fekre, the goddess of hawks and plague, by examining where her vestige had been incarcerated. 

Reflections from Rakthe’s torch bounces back at them crazily. The walls and roof of the Amber Temple are coated in rich, transparent orange, amplifying and coloring the illumination to a pale golden color. Even the slick black marble floor magnifies the flame light. 

Rounding a corner, a scene of carnage is revealed. 

A massive knight lay crumpled upon the floor, surrounded by some sort of black ichor. Its longsword lay nearby, inscribed along the wide steel with languages that Rakthe guesses may be both Abyssal and Orcish, or possibly Giant. Either way, they are unable to translate whatever message is upon the blade. As they pick up the sword, and recognizes it as a Giant Slayer Greatsword. 

Beyond the giant knight, a skull lies broken, some sort of green fluid surrounds the fragments of it. While the bone of the skull looks ancient, the damage seems very recent. Bayleaf retrieves the large emeralds from the eye sockets.

He turns to the giant further, finding a large sack of spell components and a heavy gold ring with a curiously inscribed stone. He slips it from the great knight’s hand and as he holds it, the ring shrinks down so that it might fit his own slight hand. 

He slips it on.

A painful pressure instantly expands in his head. A distant voice shouting a harsh and guttural, joins the pressure. Bayleaf senses that the voice is angry with him, demanding something from him. He tries to slip the ring from his center finger, and for one terrible moment, the ring does not seem like it will slip off. 

But it does, and once it is off his hand, he tucks it away in his pack, relieved.

Bored, Komzin moves back out into the Great Hall. He can see the figure of Neferon moving behind the glass eyes of the huge statue. There are twin staircases rising in the gloom to a gallery somewhere above. As he climbs the steps, he freezes. A buzzing, like some sort of large insect, seems to be getting louder, and a faint illumination is approaching him. 

Cruising at about three feet above the ground, a floating human skull wreathed in green flames slows to turn toward the knight, facing him. Komzin curses his luck: a flameskull. Emerald light shines from its eye sockets as it finds him, and the jaw drops wide open. The skull begins to emit a high pitched scream, and Komzin can hear the buzzing noises approaching his position from two different places within the temple. 

Komzin darts down the staircase, vaulting over the balustrade to put himself out of view from the flameskull. Bayleaf rounds the corner, causing a second, arriving flameskull to send a Fireball spell down the staircase. 

It detonates, blowing Bayleaf back into the hallway, scorching his skin and clothing. Protected by the stair risers, Komzin’s hair and hands are scorched, but his burns are far less than his comrade.

In the hallway, Rakthe is frustrated that they cannot join the battle without risking their life. They were grievously wounded by the pounding blows from the gollum.

They do not see the shadow in the doorway behind them.

⚔

At the Blood on the Vine tavern, a mysterious pale man dressed as Vistani emerges from the wine cellar.  Torgen, concerned because he believed it to be empty, approaches the mysterious Vistani-like figure, and attempts to engages him in conversation.  

The figure, whose cloak covers much of his face, appears clean and very pale, inquires politely about Torgen's background and intentions in Barovia, and lets Torgen know that he has a special interest in the sisters who run the tavern. He then excuses himself politely.

“It was very nice to meet you,”  Torgen calls, extending a hand to shake. 

The stranger, turns back, regarding down at the proffered hand for a moment, then extends his own with deliberation. To Torgen, the very pale hand looks soft, very clean and manicured. The nails trimmed just a bit long, possibly. But when the stranger engulfs the brewer’s smaller hand with his own, Torgen is alarmed that it is hard as banded steel and icy cold. 

The man gives Torgen a closed mouth twitch of a smile, then releases the dwarf’s hand.  

This stranger moves to Burgomaster Bildrath’s table and bends to whisper in the man’s ear. Duster can see the Burgomaster first turn red, then go very pale. His lower lip trembles slightly and he carefully pushes the goblet of wine before him to the center of the table. 

Both Duster and Krelldutt have heard the man tell the Burgomaster, “I placed you in this position because I need a job done. I cannot have a lush who bungles his responsibilities. You may come to have regrets should you not change this unacceptable behavior.” 

On Sauriv's hip, the sword hilt floods the turtle’s mind with extreme fear of the stranger, who moves to join him. Krelldutt also becomes aware of the panicked screeching of Piccolo from the rafters and the whining of Friedrich beneath the table of his mercenaries.

“Good evening,” the man says politely, hands crossed at his waist and bowing slightly. “You are new to the Village of Barovia, and it is infrequent that we have visitors from abroad. Might I provide a cup of wine for you in exchange to hear news of the outside world and of your own adventures?”

Krelldutt is put off by something about the man’s demeanor. Trying to keep his voice steady, Krelldutt respond, “Thank you, but I don’t really drink.”

Undeterred, the stranger slides the chair from the table and sits down, smoothly answering, “Then we will discuss your adventures without the benefit of wine.” The man, hood still pulled over his face, begins asking very mundane questions about Krelldutt and his travels, how he finds the weather in Barovia, his companions.

And then the conversation shifts. The stranger’s eyes focused intently on the hilt that juts from Krelldutt’s belt. “Tell me about that interesting blade that you wear,” he whispers fiercely, “May I see it? Hold it to examine it closely?”

The ranger’s hand drifts down to the pommel, the interior voice of the blade screaming in panic within his head, making clear thinking difficult. “I don’t think so. I try to keep it close at all times…”

Then Duster arrives. The rogue stands over the table, interrupting the conversation with a barrage of words in various accents and voices that leave no space for responses from either Krelldutt or his table mate. 

The stranger, black eyes glittering from beneath his hood as he regards chattering rogue from his chair. He reaches up and pinches Duster’s beak closed with one hand. He then returns his attention to Krelldutt, murmuring, “I do not care for the blather of kenku.”

Startled, Krelldutt replies, “Nor do I.”

“If you will not share the weapon with me to examine-to admire- I will depart.”  Releasing Duster’s beak, who remains silent, the stranger stands in a fluid movement, spins on one heel and begins to head for the door.

Torgen catches the hooded stranger, who has one hand on the door to leave.

“Excuse me,” Torgen stops him, “Might I have a private moment. I have something to tell you.” 

Eyes glittering, the stranger gestures for Torgan to step outside with him, then closes the door on the tavern’s hubbub, which is slowly resuming now that the noises from the monkey and dog have diminished.

⚔

On the front steps of the tavern, Torgan begins his litany of complaints to the stranger about Duster’s incompetence. He appeals to the stranger to speak with Sorvia to relieve him of Duster, citing the connection to the sisters the man mentioned earlier. Torgan reminds him that the stranger cited a concern for the welfare of the tavern. Torgan sincerely hopes that the stranger will intercede on his behalf to get Duster fired. “Maybe,” suggests Torgan, “you could to convey a message to the sisters about saving unnecessary expenses on room and board for Duster. For the good of the tavern.”

The stranger listens politely, almost sympathetically, then bows close to Torgan. The long, pale hand extends to touch the dwarf’s forehead gently, and Torgan again feels the cold on his skin and shudders. The man’s eyes burn deeply into the brewer’s own.

Abruptly, the stranger yanks back Torgan’s head brutally by a handful of hair, exposing his muscled neck. The stranger dips his head to bite, and the last thing Torgan feels before darkness takes him is the twin, searing pain as a pair of sharp fangs pierce his flesh.

The vampire Strahd drinks deeply before leaving Torgan unconscious in a heap on the doorstep of the Tavern.

⚔

Recovering himself, Duster suggests Krelldut sleep in the cellar to avoid another encounter with the stranger who has just departed with Torgan. Krelldutt, who was not looking forward to staying the night at the Slaughtered Lamb with the unpleasant innkeeper, who may not be happy to see Friedrich the dog in his possession. 

Krelldutt gathers his things, inviting Blinski and Udo to join him for the night in the cellar. As the men move toward the stairs, Sorvia plants herself in the way, sharply telling them, “I am not running a hotel. A gold buys you one night, but no more. You will leave in the morning and find someplace else to rest tomorrow night!”

As Krelldutt is fishing for the coin from his purse, a chair scrapes back heavily. “Pariwimple, you idiot, settle up for the wine we did not drink. I cannot find my purse.” Bildwrath strides to the door of the tavern and throws it open.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish, then he begins shouting, “There has been a murder! A murder on the front steps!”  

A crowd of tavern-goers gather to see an unconscious Torgan, collapsed just outside the tavern door. Krelldutt and Pariwimple move the brewer to a seated position to look for obvious injuries. 

Torgan’s head lolls and Bildwrath gasps, “He has been bitten! Bitten by a vampire. He is a menace to the village now! Where is Duster? Duster, the brewer may turn into a vampire! I order you, as assistant Burgomaster, to watch him constantly. Do not let him out of your sight!” Duster bobs his head.

Meanwhile, Krelldutt realizes that Torgan yet lives, though his breathing is shallow and his stupor deep. He crouches by the unconscious Torgan and casts Cure Wounds, flooding the twin wounds with golden light, and Torgan’s eyes snap open.

⚔

When Torgen regains his feet, he is resolved to again present his argument against Duster to Sorvia, still seated at the bar. 

She does not even attempt to hide her impatience with Torgan, and tells him, “I am tired of your complaints. You’re fired. You will pack up your things in the morning and leave.” She turns back to her sister.

Torgan stomps away, headed into the cellar, “Good luck finding someone to brew ale for you!” he threatens.

From the bar, the two sisters cackle at him unkindly.

⚔

In the cellar, the group arranges sleeping accommodations in the basement, with Udo and Blinksy on one side of the wall with Duster. Torgen and Krelldutt on the other. 

Neither Torgan nor Krelldutt notices that the door to the office Sorvia locked earlier has been left unlocked, slightly open, the slight smell of decay hanging in the air.