The Fallout of Argynvostholt

Upon waking the next day, the way forward was opened to us into the rest of Argynvostholt. Oswald summoned his horse the night before, and with the creature, Van Richten, and Ezmerelda, our party went forth. The next chamber was a great hall, the path through which was flanked by a row of more armored revenants on each side. At the far end was a raised dais, upon which sat a large knight in extremely ornate full plate. Watching us approach, the grinding of metal was audible as the man(?) tightened his grip on his massive greatsword. We followed Oswald's lead on how to obey.. protocall? Not unlike the pleasantries one needed follow at noble gatherings back in Faerun. Everything seemed to be going well for the most part, but Vladimir Horngaard was no fool. Angry, yes. He knew we came seeking the book - Strahd's Diary. Things had seemed to be well until Ireena opened her mouth, and Horngaard recognized her. He opened Strahd's Diary and flipped immediately to a page where Ireena's portrait was clearly drawn. It was, of course, Tatiyana as we have learned so far, but it was the spitting image of Ireena. In his rage, it seemed as if Horngaard forgot about his trial, and instead began combat with us. The revenants in the room remained motionless, allowing Horngaard to do as he will. Seven on One seemed great odds for us, until Van Richten fucked it up by hitting a couple of Revenants with a spell. It prompted them all to attack.
 
Oswald and I flanked Horngaard quickly and began doing what we do best. As if knowing my style of counter attacking for my allies, Horngaard focused on me for awhile. Thankfully Bryndon had used a spell on him that weakened his attacks, allowing me to suffer more of his blows than usual. This armor really held up well. I thought we had the fight well in hand, Van Richten at least being helpful in using his ability to Turn Undead to remove some of the revenants he pissed off. Sadly, Horngaard was unaffected by this. The fight truly became even trickier when we discovered Horngaard could magically switch places with any of the revenants. Little bitch just didn't want to stand and fight. It took effort from all of us, when we weren't being paralyzed from his own Turning ability, to win the fight. I say that, but in truth, we did not win. It wasn't until several of us had fallen and been recovered that Godfrey, the revenant who greeted us at the entrance of this place, appeared and exclaimed to Horngaard that this wasn't why they were here. That they were more than this. Horngaard stopped, and gave us an ultimatum. His "trial," finally. To pass, one of us must die here. Willingly. Most of us began discussing why we should be the one to sacrifice, but during that time, Van Richten stepped up to the dais that Horngaard had returned to, and stuck a dagger into his own throat. He slumped to the ground onto the steps of the dais, and his blood ran down the steps like carpet. In response, all of the revenants disappeared, leaving our prize for us to take. We quickly ran to his body and attempted to heal him with what spells we had left, but something about this place, this sacrifice Van Richten made, kept him from being revived. There was nothing we could do for him.
 
We discovered a back exit from the Great Hall, left, and regrouped back at Ezmerelda's wagon. We decided to go to the refugee vistani camp to the west of what remains of Vallaki. We did what we could to heal the wounded, and even taught some how to use the spell Goodberry, so that it might be able to feed the survivors and help deal with the rapidly dwindling shortage of food. Marushka spent some time dancing and performing for those who wanted or needed the reprieve. In exchange for our generosity, they gave us wagons to sleep in rather than have us sleep outside. While most slept alone, Oswald stayed with Ireena to keep her safe, and Marushka invite me to stay with her. It was.. amazing, to say the least. They're memories I'll never forget. I'm not sure what to make of.. us, though. We didn't really talk about it, and I didn't want to press her about it. But now, in the breaking hours of the morning, as I sit here and write this journal, seeing her laying beside me, I feel confused. About.. many things.
 
What the hell are you doing with your life? I’m talking to you, Trevor Belmont of House Belmont, with no living relatives. It is you I address. Last surviving monster hunter from your family out here in the armpit of the world. What the actual hell are you thinking? Idiot. You’re a tramp. You’re excommunicated. You have no family, you have no friends. You’ve spent your entire adult life being hated by everybody you ever met. And you were fine with that. You even liked it. Nobody could get near you, nobody could ruin your life because there wasn’t much left to ruin. But that last little bit of it? That was yours. And then what? A pretty girl holds your hand and takes you to bed and all of a sudden…