Conwan slips between the much larger forms of Komzin and Sheriff like a shadow. In his hand gleams a blade, its edge glistening with the deadly sheen of Drow poison. His hand darts out with serpentine speed, stabbing Ireena’s palm as she raises it defensively before herself.
Before the blood even begins to flow, a flash of lightning splits the night sky, striking a massive tree in the front yard of the inn in a deafening roar. The ancient oak shudders as part of its trunk sheers away, crashing to the gravel drive with a thunderous boom that shakes the very foundations of the building. In the same instant, Ireena’s eyes roll back into her head and she slumps unconscious onto the horsehair mattress, her body going completely limp.
Across the tavern, Danika jolts awake from deep sleep. The innkeeper’s wife throws off her covers with violent urgency, bangs her bedroom door open, and arches her back as dark feathers sprout across her skin. Her form shifts and transforms into that of a raven as she launches herself into flight. She soars across the gallery and through the doorway where the sounds of attack spill from Ireena Kolyana’s room - her friend’s room.
⚔
Krelldutt charges into Ireena’s room with a roar of fury, his war pick raised high to bring down upon Conwan’s skull. But both his ferocious swing and Friedrich’s snapping jaws find only empty air as the halfling assassin moves with preternatural grace. Krelldutt, frantically and in frustration, shouts, “Komzin, stop the halfling! Hit him before he can strike at Ireena!” But Komzin does not respond to Krelldutt’s desperate pleas. Instead, he turns away from the tortle toward the motionless woman on the bed. Krelldutt cannot see the cold calculation on Komzin’s face.
Meanwhile, Sheriff swings his sword at Krelldutt in a vicious arc, but the blade tangles in the heavy window curtain. The fabric tears as he pulls the iron rod down upon himself with a resounding clang. He shakes his head violently as if to clear it, his ears ringing from the impact. His sword, held limply, rests upon its tip, tears the cover of the mattress as it buries itself in the bedclothes near the motionless form of Ireena.
⚔
Komzin leans forward with predatory efficiency, scooping up the unconscious woman and spins toward the window. With brutal force, he smashes through the glass overlooking the burning tree in the inn’s yard. Shards cascade before him as he leaps, landing lightly in the yard below. Ireena hangs over his shoulder like a lifeless doll as he dashes around the building toward the waiting wagon where Rakthe sits, ready.
⚔
Meanwhile upstairs, Krelldutt swings his war pick again with desperate might, but Conwan slips away like smoke, following Komzin through the shattered window. Friedrich’s powerful jaws snap at nothing but air. The halfling ranger heaves himself backward, barely avoiding the plunging raven that sails, cawing, through the broken window in pursuit of the fleeing kidnappers.
Sheriff, recovering from his earlier mishap, draws upon his martial arts training and strikes at Krelldutt with lightning speed. His fist snaps the tortle’s head back before he too leaps through the broken window. Still dazed from his injury, his foot catches on the windowsill and Sheriff tumbles from the opening. He rolls to minimize the impact but still bruises himself against the hard ground. Shaking off the pain, he darts around the building toward the wagon, glancing nervously upward at the squawking raven above.
As Sheriff vaults into the back of the wagon, he watches with growing horror as Rakthe and Komzin bundle the unconscious Ireena into a wooden coffin that waits ominously in the wagon bed. The lid closes with a hollow thud that seems to echo with finality. Komzin snatches up the reins and the horses bolt into motion, their hooves striking sparks from the cobblestones.
The raven pursues them, catching up with raucous caws that pierce the night air. Annoyed by the persistent bird, Rakthe draws out a gleaming dagger and hurls it with deadly accuracy. The blade strikes true, knocking the raven from the air in an explosion of black feathers. The bird tumbles to the ground where Danika’s human form rolls to the side of the road, blood streaming from the slash of her wound. She struggles to her feet with desperate determination, dashing after the wagon while screaming at the top of her lungs, “Let her go! Do not take her! Stop, you cannot take—”
Her shrieking cuts off abruptly, as if severed by an invisible blade. Komzin turns in his seat, uncertain but believing he glimpses a very pale hand in a lace-cuffed shirt seizing the innkeeper’s wife by the throat. The oppressive silence of the night settles over the scene like a burial shroud.
⚔
Krelldutt and Friedrich make it downstairs to the front door of the inn, their footsteps echoing in the sudden quiet. Krelldutt sets up a tremendous clamor, shouting and banging on the door frame, hoping desperately to draw some of the city guards to inform them of the kidnapping. No guards are in evidence, as if by plan. He does not hear the quiet approach of soft footsteps on gravel as a tall, unnaturally pale man carries Danika’s limp body around the corner of the Blue Water Inn.
In a quiet yet commanding voice that seems to carries authority, the man says: “Mr. Krelldutt, kindly stop your shouting.”
Krelldutt wheels around to watch the cloaked figure set Danika’s motionless form gently onto the gravel walkway. The man straightens with fluid grace, and his black, piercing eyes find the tortle’s with predatory intensity.
“Mr. Krelldutt, I wish to thank you for your concern and assistance on behalf of my beloved. You will be rewarded.”
The terrible realization crashes over Krelldutt like ice water - he is speaking face to face with Count Strahd himself. His mouth goes dry as parchment, and he can only manage to croak out a single, terrified acknowledgment: “Yes.”
Strahd’s lips curve in a smile that holds no warmth, only satisfaction. “Good night, Mr Krelldutt,” and the ranger can see the glint of pointed teeth in the darkness. The cloaked man steps backward from the tortle, his form beginning to waver and dissolve into tendrils of gray smoke that spiral upward into the darkness.
⚔
From the ground, Danika utters a low, pained moan. Krelldutt immediately kneels to examine her wounds, discovering twin puncture marks on her slender throat. He channels healing magic into her battered form, and her dark eyes suddenly fly open wide with terror.
“Mr. Krelldutt… how did I… I had the most horrible vision. The castle, an organ, a man in a black cloak…”
Krelldutt tells her grimly, his voice heavy with the weight of what has transpired, “You have just missed Count Strahd.”
Danika scrambles to her feet with panic, crying out, “I must check on my children!” She races into the inn, leaving Krelldutt and Friedrich alone on the doorstep, staring into the darkness where Ireena has vanished at the hands of those he had thought were his allies.
