Tuesday Campaign: Curse of Strahd
The party rises at dawn, a haze of rain filtering through the trees as they pack their belongings and head west. The morning air carries a chill that warns of changing weather as they approach the Lun River Bridge.
“Look there,” Ratrick points ahead, “the road splits here.” The ancient, moss-covered stone bridge spans the rushing waters below, while the path divides beyond it.
“Southwest seems safer,” Zilk suggests, studying their hand-drawn map provided by Lady Wachter's lieutenant, Ernst Larnak.
Ratrick nods grimly. “It’s muddy and barely used. Could be trouble waiting.”
As they traverse the southwestern path, Shifty suddenly raises a hand. “Hold up! There’s something ahead.”
An overturned wagon lies on its side, wheels splintered as if attacked. The party approaches cautiously, weapons at the ready.
“Over here!” Shifty calls, parting the tall grass. “Look…” His voice trails off as he reveals a skeleton nearly hidden in the tall grass, its bony hand clutching a steel strongbox in death’s eternal grip.
Zilk kneels beside the box, lockpicks already in hand. “This won’t take long,” he murmurs, the lock clicking open moments later.
“Well, what treasure?” Crystal asks, peering over his shoulder.
Inside, crumpled into a tight ball, lies a finely stitched silk shirt with gleaming pearl buttons. It is wrapped around a leather sack and a small silver charm shaped like a tiny fist.
“These tiles have strange markings,” Zilk notes, emptying the leather sack. “Some kind of game, perhaps? Or divination?” No one in the group knows.
Shifty plucks up the silver charm. “What in the—” He gasps as the charm transforms in his palm, elongating into a magnificent longsword with an ornate hilt.
“Careful!” Novaril warns as Shifty drops the weapon in surprise. Curiosity overtaking caution, Shifty retrieves the charm, which now morphs into an elegant longbow.
“Interesting…” He sets it down again, and upon picking it up once more, the charm blossoms into a gleaming battleaxe.
A grin spreads across Shifty’s face as he passes the magical charm to Biblo. “You’re the better warrior to use such an item, friend.” The barbarian gladly accepts it.
The weather begins to sour as they continue, a cold mist seeping through their clothing. “Watch your step,” Crystal cautions as the path grows slick.
“According to Larnak’s map,” Ratrick says, studying the crude drawing at the next fork, “we’re still on the right track.”
From out of the mist, without warning, the air fills with the flapping of leathery wings. A swarm of bats engulfs the party, infernal squeaking deafening the group as hundreds of tiny creatures swirl around the adventurers.
“Cover your faces!” Zilk shouts above the chaos.
As suddenly as they appeared, the bats depart eastward—toward Castle Ravenloft and Count Strahd.
“That can’t be good,” Crystal mutters.
Shifty says, sharp eyes narrowing, “There’s something hanging from that tree.” He points to a rubber bag suspended from a branch not far from the road.
Inside the bag, Shifty discovers a jeweled drinking horn and another locked box. Zilk works his magic once more, revealing four small ingots of silver within.
Shifty pulls out a tiny leather-bound volume, as well. The thumbs went through it. As he reads, his expression softens. It seems to be about a mother cat and her kitten. His eyes fill as he continues to scan the tragic tale.
The group give Shifty some time to recover, deciding this is an opportune time for midday refreshment. As they rest, the group entertain themselves. Novaril attempts to snatch the strongbox from Zilk, who clutches it protectively.
“Nice try,” Zilk smirks.
Crystal, with a mischievous grin, casts Minor Illusion, creating the appearance that Zilk has dropped the box into the mud.
“Really?” Zilk raises an eyebrow, undeceived. “I’m a bit more perceptive than that.”
After their brief respite, they continue onward. Novaril examines the muddy road surface. “Look at these tracks—light boots, probably elven, followed by something… larger.” The tracks continue for nearly a mile before the heavier footprints veer into the woods.
“Should we investigate?” Biblo asks, already moving toward the trees.
CRACK! A twig snaps beneath Biblo’s foot, the sound echoing through the silent forest.
From behind a massive oak steps an enormous knight in tattered armor. Its skin glows an unnatural green, and the stench of decay wafts from its rotting form. It raises a glowing blade that hums with dark energy. "A cursed revenant!" gasps Novaril. The revenant roars, lunging forward.
Steel meets steel as the battle erupts. Spells fly and blades flash in the dim forest light. Crystal casts an Cone of Cold, and is distressed that the creature seems immune to the effects of such high-level magic, the she notices the tattered white dragon on the chest of her opponent. She has caused the creature's weapon to fly from its bony hand into the tall, brown grass.
Zilk calls to his comrades that he is preparing to cast a Booming Blade spell against the creature. It will sheathe it in thunderous energy which will concuss it should it move from its position.
The cursed revenant fixes its hollow eyes on him. "Thank you for letting me know!" it croaks.
Dumbfounded that such a foe has speech, Zilk mutters the spell anyway. The revenant is engulfed in a shimmering field of silvery-gray. It swivels to face Zilk, careful not to move its feet, and intones, “My death may be imminent, stranger, but know this! My brothers shall know thee and mark thee as a foe!” Its voice is like grinding stones.
Shifty seizes the opening, driving his blade through the revenant’s chest. With a final gurgle, the creature collapses, the forest falling silent once more.
“Everyone alright?” Novaril asks, scanning his companions for injuries. He continues, “This isn’t good. This creature will find another corpse to inhabit. It will return to hunt Zilk!”
The bugbear, seemingly unconcerned by the creature’s threat, calmly removes its head and ties the grisly object to his pack, where it hangs with the others. Straightening, he returns to where the revenant dropped its blade. ZIlk is unable to find it.
“The glowing sword?” Crystal looks around. “It’s gone!”
The party exchanges uneasy glances as they return to the road, the mist growing thicker around them as they press onward into the unknown dangers that lie ahead.
