6/17/2025 Tuesday Curse of Strahd game log

The party approached the ancient structure with measured caution. Biblo led the way up the crumbling stone steps, his ratfolk senses alert for any sign of danger. Behind him followed his trusted companions: Crystal and Ilya, the dragonborn pair whose scales caught what little light filtered through the ruins, and Zilk, the imposing bugbear whose presence commanded respect even in the gloom.

The great hall stretched before them, a testament to forgotten grandeur now claimed by decay. Shattered black marble littered the floor like obsidian tears, and the vaulted ceiling disappeared into shadow. It was Biblo who first noticed the figure.

“There,” he calls, pointing toward the center of the hall. “Someone’s there.”

Against the backdrop of broken marble lay a woman, her pale skin almost luminescent in the dim light. Her elvish features were delicate but peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping rather than… The party exchanged uncertain glances.

“Is she dead?” Ratrick asks quietly, his whiskers twitching with nervous energy.

“Hard to tell from here,” Zilk rumbled, his deep voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

The debate continued in hushed tones until Crystal, ever the practical one, stepped forward. “Only one way to find out,” she said, kneeling beside the prone figure. With gentle hands, she attempted to rouse the woman.

Suddenly, the elf’s striking blue-green eyes fluttered open. Startled, her gaze darts frantically across the faces above her: the intelligent eyes of a ratfolk, the reptilian features of two dragonborn, and the intimidating bulk of a bugbear. But then her attention shifted upward, and her expression changed to one of alarm.

“What is that thing?” she gasped, her graceful finger pointing toward the ceiling.

Crystal’s scales ruffled with indignation. “I don’t appreciate being called a thing!” she snapped, her draconic pride clearly wounded.

The elf woman’s eyes widened in panic. “No, no! Up there!” she stammered, gesturing more frantically toward the shadows above.

As one, the party’s gaze followed her pointing finger upward into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. There, perched on crossbeams and clinging to columns like gargoyles, were several large, shadowy forms. Their eyes glittered with malevolent intelligence as they stared down at the intruders below.

Zilk, always the diplomat despite his fearsome appearance, helps pull the elvish woman to her feet with surprising gentleness. Then, raising his voice to address the creatures above, he calls out, “Do you mean us harm?”

The response comes not as words but as a direct intrusion into his mind - cold, alien thoughts that bypass his ears entirely. The telepathic communication is meant for him alone; his companions can only watch as his expression grows increasingly tense.

What are you doing here? The mental voice was hostile, demanding.

“We are looking for a valuable gem,” Zilk replies aloud, knowing his companions can’t hear the creature’s side of the conversation. “Do you know where we might find it?”

Valuable gems are part of the hoard of Argynsvost the Dragon. It is guarded by the cursed ones! And you have cost us our sacrifice!

During this tense exchange, the elf woman - Nike, as they would soon learn - has quietly backed toward the entrance. Her feet make little sound on the marble as she flees. But Ilya, ever watchful, noticed her movement and followed.

“Miss!” The boy calls out as Nike reached the doorway. “It is very dangerous to go off by yourself!”

Nike pauses, her hand on the doorframe, looking back with those striking blue-green eyes.

“You would do well to follow these people,” Ilya continues earnestly. “They are brave and are working to unseat the Vampire Lord of this land.”

Ilya’s explanation is brief but comprehensive. Nike learns that she is trapped in this cursed realm of Barovia, unable to return home until Count Strahd is defeated. The choice is stark: face the dangers alone or join with these unlikely heroes.

After a moment’s consideration, Nike nods. “Very well. I will go with you.”

Back in the hall, the diplomatic talks have broken down entirely. One of the shadow creatures swoops down from its perch, its form barely visible against the darkness as it slashes at Biblo. The barbarian had been attempting his own form of mental communication, trying to reach out with psychic abilities, but the creature’s response was decidedly hostile.

Claws raked across Biblo’s broad shoulder as he stumbles backward, the shadow’s attack serving as a clear answer to any further negotiations.

“Shifty!” Zilk calls out to their kobold cleric, who has been hanging back near the entrance. “We need your help!”

The diminutive kobold’s eyes lit up with opportunistic glee. “Caterpillars!” he chittered excitedly. “Three caterpillars for each shadow I defeat!”

The party exchange glances, and Zilk murmurs the explanation to Nike. Shifty’s obsession with caterpillars for his spell components is well-known, if somewhat bizarre. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Fine!” Crystal shouts as another shadow begins to descend. “Three caterpillars per shadow! Just help us!”

Grinning with satisfaction, Shifty raises his holy symbol and begins chanting. The air shimmers, and suddenly a spectral guardian materializes - a translucent warrior wreathed in divine light. The Spirit Guardian immediately lashes out at the retreating shadow, its ethereal weapon cutting through the air with deadly precision.

But the shadow creature’s aerial agility proved superior. With an almost mocking grace, it twists away from the attack, the guardian’s weapon passing harmlessly through empty air.

The great hall erupts into chaos as more shadows descend from their perches. Nike, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination, watches her new companions spring into action.

The battle is far from over, and the party knows they will need every advantage they can muster against these otherworldly foes. In the flickering shadows of the ruined hall, heroes and monsters prepare for a confrontation that would determine not just their immediate fate, but perhaps the success of their entire quest.