05/19/2026: Treasure and Departure

The party wastes no time. With Exethanter’s library still humming at their backs, they turn their attention to the matter of reward — and reward, in Barovia, rarely arrives without complication.

Neferon regards them with his unsettling golden eyes. “I do not know the stores contained within the Great Library as Exethanter does. And I may only gift you with items we have many of.”

Soulfire selects a Feywild Shard from the pile — a resonant crystal that, when metamagic is applied, allows the caster to attach a Wild Magic surge to their spell. Crystal claims Bracers of Defence. Biblo requests an Alchemy Jug. Shifty gains Fangs of Venom, giving him a venomous bite — elegant, in a terrible sort of way. It suits him perfectly.

Nike selects a Shadow Walker’s Mask, inspired, she tells them, by some research she’s done. The mask lets the wearer melt into shadow and become untouchable in darkness — except by undead, a rather significant liability in Barovia. Rowan asks for a Vial of Endless Poison, recharging daily. Ratrick requests a Tome of Leadership and Influence, for studying to improve his sales charisma. This talent promises gold for the ratling, even in a place as desperately poor as Barovia.

The group admire their treasures in the cold amber light. And then it dawns on Nike. She asks a question that has been troubling her since they arrived at the Amber Temple. The object of her disquiet sits in the corner of the treasure room — unremarkable in shape for a coffin, but child-sized. With a name carved into the lid.

Ilya.

The coffin is empty, which should be reassuring, and somehow isn’t. An empty coffin with a child’s name on it, in the depths of a fortress dedicated to dark gods, is not a thing that admits of cheerful interpretation.

She asks Neferon about it. His answer is not comforting: Ilya is in danger. The child may not survive what is coming.

The arcanaloth’s expression shifts into something that looks almost like concern. “Would a Ring of Invisibility be useful, do you suppose?” He passes it to Ratrick, his voice careful and deliberate. “You, who have been playing the role of a father — pass it to the boy when he needs it. And he will need it. The Temple predicts that this will be so.”

The weight of this augury settles over the group like an ill change in weather.

Neferon passes a key to Crystal and explains how the Standing Stones work. As a group, they descend the circular stairs to the lower level of the Amber Temple. Three massive granite menhirs stand before three amber walls. On the south stone, wavy lines are incised upon the surface. On the east, a castle — Ravenloft, Crystal guesses. On the west wall, grapes. That one must be the vineyard, Biblo posits.

Neferon pauses before departing, turning back to face them one last time. “Farewell, travellers. Here is Exethanter’s reward for recapturing the Queen of Poxes. Had you not weakened Fekre, the Master of the Amber Temple would not have been able to do so. The ritual scroll settles his debt to you, and conveys his gratitude for your help. Allow me to return to the Great Library before you use the key — to whatever comes next for you. I wish you safe travels.”

The arcanaloth climbs the stairs rapidly on his odd, backward bending legs. He does not look back at them.

Crystal places the flat of her scaled, pale-green hand delicately against the stone with grapes etched into it. A large keyhole opens in its face at about four feet from the ground. Using her other hand, she slips the key into it and turns.

The standing stones shimmer, and the world slips sideways. Wild wind, cold and damp, buffets the friends, who bump against one another — and against other things. These wet presences are not altogether friendly in the frigid tempest that engulfs them, and what might be vines, might be tentacles, drag across their faces and arms.

⚔

And then, without warning, they crash onto a gravelly surface. Still cold and damp, the constant rocking of the teleportation spell ends abruptly. The group staggers to find their feet. The wind that has swirled about them drops to a steady, chilly blow, and they can hear the distant rustle of the forest — and closer, the rhythmic strike of hammers.

Yester Hill rises in the grey light of a Barovia midday, the stones of the teleportation circle cold underfoot. The party knows this place — they felled a giant tree-blight here once, at the brink of the druid invasion of Vallaki, and the mouldering piles of lumber and earth still show it. The hill remembers.

And so do the druids. They have not left.

Two of them toil over the next version of the monstrous tree-blight. It lies on its back, shaggy and massive, bound together with vines and supple branches, its bark split and thick with moss. The druids move across the surface of the vast creature, pounding with stone axes to hew the boughs that compose its arms. The smell of rot, turned earth, and freshly cut lumber hangs over everything.

Crystal doesn’t hesitate. A Fireball blooms outward from her hand in a wash of heat and roaring orange light, and the inert body of the tree creature shudders. Zilk follows with Infestation — termites, this time, swarming through bark and heartwood. Soulfire sends a second Fireball in behind them both. The druids scramble. The tree burns. Lashed-together branches crash down the hillside with a sound like a building collapsing, taking the pair of druid builders with them into the dark.

One of them emerges from the smoke. Charred, grievously wounded, snarling, the druid slips a whistle between cracked lips and blows. Two warrior-druids scramble up rapidly from beneath the Gulthias Tree, weapons in hand.

Crystal is faster. The Hypnotic Pattern spirals into the air between them — light and geometry and something that bypasses rational thought entirely. Both warriors stop. Their eyes go glassy. And then, with a kind of terrible dignity, they begin to walk — straight off the edge of the hill, tumbling down the slope into the dark below.

Silence.

The party gather their things before any more druids can arrive. The vineyard is nearby. They have earned a rest.