DnD campaign

The rest of your travel through the forest continues in almost complete silence. The usually jovial Vistani seem a little rattled by the encounter. Every now and them you hear a stifled laugh from one of their wagons, but it is a stark difference from their cavorting just a few hours prior. As you continue down the road, the fog gets thicker and colder, and the few trees that you can see through the gloom become crowded and twisted. The calls of songbirds fade into the distance, until at last the only sounds of life outside of your caravan is the occasional crowing of a raven.

At last, just when you think the fog cannot get any thicker, you find yourself suddenly in clear air once more, though the fog lays heavily over the road behind you. Ahead, jutting from the impenetrable woods on either side of the road, are high stone buttresses, looming darkly against an overcast sky in the anemic afternoon sun. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework, and dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two headless statues of armed guardians flank the gate, their heads now lying among the weeds at their feet. Their grim, weathered faces stare lifelessly at the sky, and greet you only with silence.

As your caravan approaches these gates, they begin to swing slowly open, the screech of their ancient hinges piercing the silence of the woods. You notice no lookouts on the walls, nor mechanism which might be operating the gate.

Lady Gwynn extends her hand lazily to accept the book, although her face betrays her eagerness. "I am glad you came to your sense, Lucien," she says, not looking at you, but rather at the weathered cover of the book, scarred with eldritch runes.

"As promised, you may go." She waves her hand behind her and the figures blocking the road stand aside. "The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you. I hope we cross paths again in the future. Farewell, Lucien." Lady Gwynn and her followers turn and stride away into the forest, seeming to melt into the mists and out of sight.

Stanimir wipes beads of sweat from his brow, and says, "It is fortunate that she recognized you, master Lucien, otherwise things might have taken a violent and tragic turn. Perhaps we should continue on while our fortune holds. We are not far from Barovia now."


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Lady Gwynn frowns and says, "A pity. She would be so much better off with us. No matter, I would be most surprised if your companions were so eager to throw their lives away over a moldy old tome."

Stanimir jumps up from his seat and says, "You said they would not be harmed! Do not forget our Master--"

"Do not interfere, old man!" Gwynn shouts, her eyes flashing red. "Our agreement only included you and your kinfolk, not any dirty ragamuffins you happened to pick up along the way! They are in MY land and I will do to them what I see fit, and if you and your band of circus freaks dares to interfere then I will cut you all down like cattle!"

The other members of Gwynn's group hiss and cackle in agreement, licking their lips and flexing their fingers in preparation.

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Arscene has indeed heard that powerful vampires can affect the atmosphere around them, to frequently produce misty, overcast conditions.


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"Or perhaps you, dark one," Lady Gwynn says, turning to Rasec. "There is something about you... some dark power within... how did you come upon this? Tell us your secrets, and your group may pass. Lie to us, however, and we will be most... disappointed."


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