Chapter 28. The Night of the Blood Moon.
General Summary
Martikov’s Winery.
Visions of Strahd atop his burning mount are seared into our collective memory.
A narrow escape but a party galvanised after our successful sabotage at Yester Hill.
Having returned the Gem of Power to Adrian Martikov, he and his family are happy that they have some semblance of a future.
The light in the darkness they provide to the people of Barovia - wine, distilled happiness for some and a mask for sorrow for others - can still be produced. Adrian told us “You have given me some hope.” Esper replied “That is better than none.”
By now, it was clear The Martikovs (and their raven allies – or perhaps ancestors?) were fighting for the same cause as us. We push Davian on what form his resistance takes. His head hanging slightly, Davian responds: “Never open opposition – such rebellions are quashed brutally. The land is full of injustice and suffering – we try to alleviate what pain we can”.
Davian describes the most recent uprising of villagers in Barovia village – led by the son of the local priest (who we met – Father Donavich). “Killed. All. That or a fate even worse”.
That evening, we established distances and discussed places on the map: Kresk, Vallaki, Barovia; potential allies: Ismark, the ‘Blinsky’ toy company – and what to do with our druid prisoner. It was agreed - after some consultation - that the prisoner would be put on a wagon, with us, and taken to Vallaki.
While the group make ready for bed, Vass sits at the grave of the dead Ravens Adrian has been working on ourside in the mud. As he gets up to leave, he scatters the crumbs of some bread pocketed during dinner over the freshly turned earth.
After a while, the group settled to sleep. No watch was kept. There was, for the briefest of moments, a temporary fading of the fear. We found calm despite the darkness creeping at the door.
In the early hours of the morning, shortly before the rising of the dawn, Esper ended her trance, and silently made her way through the winery, downstairs and through the front door.
Out into the crisp morning air, half-frozen dew crunched under foot, a gentle breeze refreshed her mind. “And what of the Devil…” she thought. “How can we end his power over these people? How do we get out of here? I want to tell him it was us. I want him to know we are coming for him. I want to send him a message… A grotesque idol fallen. A prophesy fulfilled. The fire of rebellion lighting up the night. Hope is dawning. Behold the coming of the light… ever the one for the drama Aracan!” - she laughed to herself. “No. The others do not want me to do anything without them and I have betrayed their trust enough. I must stay my own impatience and wait for them to wake. I must not be hasty.”
A few hours later, the barn doors opened, Stephania and Adrain shuffled out to load the wagon with 6 barrels of Purple Grape Mash. Esper helped, and soon after, the others were awake and downstairs.
Adrian once more offered Vass his loyalty, and asked him to message if they find themselves in need.
We soon departed, and spent the morning on the road to Vallaki. Progress was slowed by the cart loaded with wine, but the group felt no urgency, and conversation turned to their recent discussion of Strahd, and the groups next steps.
It occurs to the group that the Burgomaster of Vallaki, Vargas Vallakovich, may not be pleased with their lack of progress investigating Lady Wachter and her suspected opposition to his leadership and occult practices.
DCBC: “But won’t he be pleased we’ve re-stocked the tavern with wine? Diplomacy first, I always say”. “And we are delivering one of Strahds followers to him on a plate – if that’s not diplomacy I don’t know what is. And we can restock, go to this festival perhaps…Kresk can wait for now”, said Ichabod.
Losing patience, Esper snapped “How can you seek to move so slowly?! You are almost apathetic! There is a demon in that castle – and if there are means to combat him, surely we must take them!? Power seems the only option to me, else our opposition is pointless.” Ichabod’s face reddened and his expression turned stony. “No one here has more reason to hate vampires more than I. If you had been paying attention to what I’ve been saying you would know that. Don’t mistake my calmness for apathy. I have seen first-hand what Vampires can do to a person, a family, a community”.
“What happened to you?” Vass looks at him sideways. “Your mum get bitten by a vampire or someth…”
A scream suddenly rends the air, seeming to come from around the corner. Vass darts from the wagon, sneaking ahead to see a nobleman encircled by three wolves, fighting them off as best he could but clearly outnumbered.
The rest of the group rushed to help him - Vass, Burly Esper (having given herself the appearance of a Beserker like figure) quickly fought off the initial wolves. “I can’t thank you enough!” The man gets out, in well spoken common. “My name is…”.
“Shhhhh!”: Alyric, peering from the bed of the cart into the dense woodland. ‘Dire wolves. Many. They are coming!’. The group draw their arms, ready for might have been a brutal ambush.
Trouble for Barnard, Alyric, Ichabod, Vass, Esper, and this new stranger… a perilous fight to the death continues…#
Visions of Strahd atop his burning mount are seared into our collective memory.
A narrow escape but a party galvanised after our successful sabotage at Yester Hill.
Having returned the Gem of Power to Adrian Martikov, he and his family are happy that they have some semblance of a future.
The light in the darkness they provide to the people of Barovia - wine, distilled happiness for some and a mask for sorrow for others - can still be produced. Adrian told us “You have given me some hope.” Esper replied “That is better than none.”
By now, it was clear The Martikovs (and their raven allies – or perhaps ancestors?) were fighting for the same cause as us. We push Davian on what form his resistance takes. His head hanging slightly, Davian responds: “Never open opposition – such rebellions are quashed brutally. The land is full of injustice and suffering – we try to alleviate what pain we can”.
Davian describes the most recent uprising of villagers in Barovia village – led by the son of the local priest (who we met – Father Donavich). “Killed. All. That or a fate even worse”.
That evening, we established distances and discussed places on the map: Kresk, Vallaki, Barovia; potential allies: Ismark, the ‘Blinsky’ toy company – and what to do with our druid prisoner. It was agreed - after some consultation - that the prisoner would be put on a wagon, with us, and taken to Vallaki.
While the group make ready for bed, Vass sits at the grave of the dead Ravens Adrian has been working on ourside in the mud. As he gets up to leave, he scatters the crumbs of some bread pocketed during dinner over the freshly turned earth.
After a while, the group settled to sleep. No watch was kept. There was, for the briefest of moments, a temporary fading of the fear. We found calm despite the darkness creeping at the door.
In the early hours of the morning, shortly before the rising of the dawn, Esper ended her trance, and silently made her way through the winery, downstairs and through the front door.
Out into the crisp morning air, half-frozen dew crunched under foot, a gentle breeze refreshed her mind. “And what of the Devil…” she thought. “How can we end his power over these people? How do we get out of here? I want to tell him it was us. I want him to know we are coming for him. I want to send him a message… A grotesque idol fallen. A prophesy fulfilled. The fire of rebellion lighting up the night. Hope is dawning. Behold the coming of the light… ever the one for the drama Aracan!” - she laughed to herself. “No. The others do not want me to do anything without them and I have betrayed their trust enough. I must stay my own impatience and wait for them to wake. I must not be hasty.”
A few hours later, the barn doors opened, Stephania and Adrain shuffled out to load the wagon with 6 barrels of Purple Grape Mash. Esper helped, and soon after, the others were awake and downstairs.
Adrian once more offered Vass his loyalty, and asked him to message if they find themselves in need.
We soon departed, and spent the morning on the road to Vallaki. Progress was slowed by the cart loaded with wine, but the group felt no urgency, and conversation turned to their recent discussion of Strahd, and the groups next steps.
It occurs to the group that the Burgomaster of Vallaki, Vargas Vallakovich, may not be pleased with their lack of progress investigating Lady Wachter and her suspected opposition to his leadership and occult practices.
DCBC: “But won’t he be pleased we’ve re-stocked the tavern with wine? Diplomacy first, I always say”. “And we are delivering one of Strahds followers to him on a plate – if that’s not diplomacy I don’t know what is. And we can restock, go to this festival perhaps…Kresk can wait for now”, said Ichabod.
Losing patience, Esper snapped “How can you seek to move so slowly?! You are almost apathetic! There is a demon in that castle – and if there are means to combat him, surely we must take them!? Power seems the only option to me, else our opposition is pointless.” Ichabod’s face reddened and his expression turned stony. “No one here has more reason to hate vampires more than I. If you had been paying attention to what I’ve been saying you would know that. Don’t mistake my calmness for apathy. I have seen first-hand what Vampires can do to a person, a family, a community”.
“What happened to you?” Vass looks at him sideways. “Your mum get bitten by a vampire or someth…”
A scream suddenly rends the air, seeming to come from around the corner. Vass darts from the wagon, sneaking ahead to see a nobleman encircled by three wolves, fighting them off as best he could but clearly outnumbered.
The rest of the group rushed to help him - Vass, Burly Esper (having given herself the appearance of a Beserker like figure) quickly fought off the initial wolves. “I can’t thank you enough!” The man gets out, in well spoken common. “My name is…”.
“Shhhhh!”: Alyric, peering from the bed of the cart into the dense woodland. ‘Dire wolves. Many. They are coming!’. The group draw their arms, ready for might have been a brutal ambush.
Trouble for Barnard, Alyric, Ichabod, Vass, Esper, and this new stranger… a perilous fight to the death continues…#
Report Date
04 Oct 2024
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