Svalich Road
11th Moon, 735
"Can the feline be trusted?" Ismark Kolyanovich, the son of the late burgomaster, Kolyan Indirovich asked Ziri. "He threatened my adopted sister while your companions battled the devil, Strahd."
Ziri Basha, the half-elf druid from Neverwinter Wood, wasn't sure how to truthfully answer Ismark's question. She had been with the others since meeting them in the small town of Oakhurst or in Ahroheim and Dundolyn's case, the dungeons beneath the Sunless Citadel. Luca Featherbone, however, was the newest member to join the company of adventurers.
Luca, a tabaxi--a catlike humanoid--claimed to be from a world where tabaxi clans fought endless wars against an empire of wererats. A wizard, Luca said he was on an expedition to a ruined library when a thick fog enveloped his fellow travelers. He was soon separated from the others. When he called to them, all he heard were the baying of dire wolves and the screams of dying tabaxis. Dire wolves, or any canine creature for that matter, were extremely rare in Luca's homeland, The Vibrant Wilds. His people made sure of it, leading major hunting expeditions to slaughter all canine creatures and humanoids that festered the lands.
When three of the dire wolves finished killing his companions, they came for Luca. He ran and was soon quickly consumed by the thick fog. In time he found himself running down a cobbled street that wasn't there before. The street led him in front of a strange house where the other adventurers were gathered. Luca had joined the adventurers then.
Ziri wondered if Luca could be completely trusted. People were like most animals Ziri had studied or encountered. There were those who knew how to survive on their own, while there were those that joined packs or herds to ensure greater chances for survival.
What kind of animal was Luca? Ziri wondered.
"I may not know him as much as the others," Ziri said. "But he's risked himself as much as the others have in fighting whatever evil we've encountered in this hellish land. I have to trust him with my life if we are ever to return home."
However, it was the high elf sorcerer, Ahroheim, whom Ziri wasn't certain about anymore. In the cemetery, Ahroheim momentarily joined forces with Strahd. Although he acted like nothing had happened, Ziri wasn't as sure about him as she used to be.
Ismark nodded. "Then I suggest we leave soon."
"Where do you propose to take Ireena?"
"Father Donavich thinks Ireena would be safe at the Abbey of Saint Markovia in Krezk."
"And what do you think?"
"The fortified town of Vallaki is on the way. We can look at our options once we reach Vallaki."
"I'll gather the others."
**
"Couldn't we have gotten horses instead of walking?" Dundolyn asked. The halfling had been complaining about walking for nearly four hours since they left the village of Barovia.
"There aren't any horses available in the village," Ismark said. "I looked into it. It would have been faster getting to Vallaki if we did have mounts."
The group had traveled about three miles or so but was going at a slow pace. They followed the Svalich Road as it wound its way through the Svalich Woods. They carried enough provisions to avoid hunting after Ismark warned the group about the dangers the forest held all around them.
It was almost noon when the group arrived at a crossroads. An old wooden gallows creaked in a chill wind that blew down from the high ground to the west. A frayed length of rope danced from its beam. The well-worn road split in two, and a signpost opposite the gallows pointed off in three directions: BAROVIA VILLAGE to the east, TSER POOL to the northwest, and RAVENLOFT/VALLAKI to the southwest. The northwest fork slanted down and disappeared into the trees, while the southwest fork clung to an upward slope. Across from the gallows, a low wall, crumbling in places, partially enclosed a small plot of graves shrouded in fog. The gallows stood atop a rotting platform five feet high, with wooden stairs leading up to it. There were also eleven graves at the edge of the road. All had blank gravestones.
"The forgotten people buried here were most likely hanged from the gallows," Ismark said. "They were probably bandits who prowled the road looking for travelers they can easily prey upon. Locals who caught them hanged the bandits and buried them here rather than waste space in a village cemetery."
"They were hanged here? At a crossroads?" Skylar asked. The dragonborn cleric of Bahamut looked at the gallows with disdain. "That's hardly justice."
"It's local justice," Ismark said. "Bandits are no better than Strahd's foul minions. They feed upon the helpless while serving themselves or a master."
Like an animal, Ziri thought.
"We need to keep walking," Ahroheim interrupted.
"We'd have been in Vallaki by now if Dundolyn walked faster," Edmont said.
"And we'd be in Vallaki by now if this place had more horses," Dundolyn responded.
The sounds of horses approaching drew everyone's attention.
Two men on horses were slowly riding towards them from the direction they came from. Both looked to be in their twenties. Both wore bright red velvet vests, brown leather pants, and black riding boots. Both men were armed with shortswords, carried shortbows and quivers nearly empty of arrows. One horse carried a dead wolf, recently slain by the amount of flies buzzing around the carcass. Each horse also had saddlebags laden with fresh herbs and small game.
The two riders introduced themselves as Borris and Otto. They said they were from a nearby camp less than three miles towards the lake. They had recently been out hunting. Otto invited the group to the camp to spend the remainder of the day there and spend the night.
"We'll be fine," Ziri said stepping up to address the riders. "Vallaki isn't much farther."
"I doubt you'll make it before dusk," Borris said. "It's already noon. You won't make to Vallaki at the rate you're traveling."
Everyone looked at Dundolyn who simply shrugged.
Ismark suggested the group take up the men's offer. If they left at daybreak the next morning, it would give them plenty of time to make it to Vallaki. The village couldn't be more than fifteen miles from their current location.
The group relented and followed the two riders who walked their horses. They took the road marked TSER POOL.
On the way, Edmont took the opportunity to relieve one of the saddlebags of a small bag he quickly pocketed before being caught. He later found the small pouch contained three gems, each easily worth 100 GP.
"Are all of you from around here?" Ziri asked the men leading them.
"You might say that," Otto said. "We're Vistani. We have no place we call home. We freely travel the land as we choose."
Ziri and the others became suddenly suspicious of the two men. The druid walked up to Ismark and whispered to him. "You said the Vistani served Strahd and could not be trusted. And now we're heading to their camp?"
"The vistani are said to work for Strahd," Ismark said. "But what choice do we have? We won't make it to Vallaki in time and I can't risk Ireena's safety by spending the night along the road."
Ziri knew Ismark was right. They didn't have much of a choice but to accept the vistanis' hospitality.
The road they were on gradually disappeared and was replaced by a twisted, muddy path through the trees. Deep ruts in the earth were evidence of the comings and goings of wagons. The canopy of mist and branches suddenly gave way to black clouds boiling far above. There was a clearing next to a river that widened to form a small lake several hundred feet across. Five colorful round tents, each ten feet in diameter, were pitched outside a ring of four barrel-topped wagons. A much larger tent stood near the shore of the lake. Near this tent, eight unbridled horses drank from the river. The mournful strains of an accordion clashed with the singing of several brightly clad figures around a bonfire. A footpath continued beyond this encampment, meandering north between the river and the forest's edge.
The other vistanis were made up of a mixture of men and women, although no children were present. They greeted the adventurers with open arms, offering bottles of wine to everyone. Edmont asked if the vistani had rum but they seemed confused at what he was asking for. Edmont was willing to settle for wine instead.
A land without rum is truly a cursed land, the Sword Coast pirate thought.
While half the group was invited to meet with Madame Eva, the vistani's matriarch, the others stayed by the bonfire and heard a tale about a wizard who arrived in Barovia a year ago. The wizard fought Strahd, even managing to raise an army to battle against him in Castle Ravenloft. When Strahd appeared, most of the people ran in fear. Those who remained were quickly slain. The wizard fought against Strahd, pitting magic against magic. But Strahd proved more powerful. When the devil Strahd fell upon him, the wizard's magic couldn't save him. The wizard was thrown from the castle's rampart. The wizard fell a thousand feet to his death. His body was swept away by the Ivlis River and was never found.
Meanwhile, inside her tent, Madame Eva offered to read the group's fortune. She called each in the group by their names and seemed to know each person's life intimately.
The old vistani matriarch read their fortune from a tarokka deck. She claimed the cards would provide the adventurers with the information they sought on how to return home and possibly defeat their nemesis. When asked why she would aid them, Madame Eva claimed she wanted to free the land of Barovia from its curse. She was powerless to help beyond that.
After their fortune was read, the group gathered together around the bonfire, ate wolf steaks Otto prepared and drank two kinds of local wines: Purple Grapemash Number 3 and Red Dragon Crush. After, they settled in for the night but took turns keeping watch since they were not completely trusting of their vistani hosts.
Early the next morning, Borris guided the group to the Svalich Road and returned back to the camp. He warned them to continue towards Vallaki and not follow the road towards Castle Ravenloft.
The group followed the road for four miles. It had only taken nearly two hours traveling at Dundolyn's pace.
It was still early in the morning when they heard someone crying and spotted a young girl sitting where the road split in two. No sign indicated which way the roads went.
The girl's head was on her knees. She kept repeating, "Please stop, please stop!"
Skylar signaled for the others to remain while he carefully approached the young girl. "It's alright little one, I'm here to help you."
"Be careful Skylar," Luca warned. "Remember what happened last time we tried to help children?"
Skylar looked back at the tabaxi clearly remembering what happened last time.
"Please stop them, please stop them!" the young girl repeated.
The dragonborn carefully moved towards the girl. When he was closer, he noticed small pricks forming on the girl's skin, though no blood shed from any of the small wounds. Skylar moved closer then kneeled down next to the crying girl. Although not certain, Skylar didn't think the girl couldn't have been more than nine winters old.
"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Skylar asked in a calm tone. "Where are your parents?"
"Stop the witches in the windmill." the young girl said. It was clear to Skylar the girl was very frightened.
"We're going to help you, little one," Skylar said. "First, let me heal--"
Skylar reached out to touch the girl's arm and cure her of her wounds. What he saw next nearly caused him to stumble back and fall. The girl lifted her head. Empty eye sockets greeted the dragonborn. Fine white powder fell out of her eye sockets. Her entire body then began to dissolve into a pile of white powder.
"I told you we can't trust the children around here," Luca said. Almost everyone nodded in agreement.
After the girl vanished, Luca picked up a handful of the powder. She examined it carefully. It had the consistency of flour. Luca also noticed small fragments of bones mixed in with the powder. He told the others about his gruesome discovery.
Ahroheim took out a small glass vial and filled it with the powder. He then put away to examine it at a later time.
Edmont got down on one knee and looked at the dirt road. He found two sets of tracks leading west. Both tracks seemed to have originated from the north and may have passed through less than two days before. He noticed a set of prints indicating that a human-sized adult with wide boots was dragging someone wearing small sized shoes, perhaps belonging to a halfling or a human child. Edmont informed the others of what he saw.
"Judging by this," Edmont pointed to prints he found. "the smaller person was resisting the whole time as he or she was being taken west."
"What directions did the two people come from?" Ziri asked.
"Perhaps Vallaki," Edmont said. He pointed down the road, towards the direction they were traveling.
The group debated what to do next. Most argued against helping the young girl who might be leading them into a trap. Some argued that perhaps the spirit of the girl was seeking help against the witches she warned them about.
In the end, it was left up to Ziri, the company's leader, to decide what course of action they were going to take.
Despite her instincts warning her against it, she decided the group should help the spirit of the young girl.
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