Party 8

[Kanaxe_Ru]

Chapter 1: Into the Mists

The lot of you are no strangers, having met through some strange turn of events and coming to rely on each other's talents time and time again. And you're not the only ones -- in the time you've spent in the small northern Sword Coast town of Daggerford, just a bit under a day's travel from the sprawling city of Waterdeep, you've made a bit of a name for yourselves protecting its people from the various perils of the wilderness. So it isn’t much of a surprise that when the Duchess Morwen is having guests over for dinner, you all are invited. You consider her quite the friend considering how much you have served her duchy over the course of your stay, and the benefits from such a friendship are quite nice indeed.

The night is brisk, the full moon ominously bright as you maneuver your way through the nearly vacant cobblestone streets. Even though the walled settlement isn’t the largest, it is normally much more lively - but the people's superstitions must be getting the better of them. Tugging on your collar you push the thoughts to the back of your mind, making haste. Best not make Ms. Morwen wait any longer than need be.

As you arrive and are lead into the dining hall, the scents of various dishes begin to overwhelm your senses. Eagerly you find an empty seat, watching others file in after you. The Duchess is seated at the head of the table, looking much more distressed than usual. But of course you all exchange pleasantries as she attempts to hide her unease.

You all eat and discuss recent happenings in the town, everything seeming to be alright until the Duchess clears her throat and begins to speak in a somber tone.

“I don’t mean to interrupt this fine night we've been having...” she begins hesitantly, “...but we do have some important business to discuss. The reason I invited you all here tonight was because I have some concerns about a group of wayward travelers that are camped outside of Daggerford’s walls. I first assumed they were harmless, but then I had heard rumors from the townsfolk -- of them practicing witchcraft and other savage rituals. Of threatening to curse any who crossed their path.”

Taking a moment to reach for a glass of wine before her, she would take a generous sip before setting the drink back down and continuing. “At this point I'm not sure who or what to believe, but I'm wary of exotic magicks -- and quite frankly, we can't afford to have any more unknown factors after the events of the previous few nights.” Her gaze flickers downward. "... You're probably aware of the rumors of werewolves."

She sighs, shaking her head. “But I digress. For now I simply ask for you to go down there tonight and investigate things for me, while I'm held up with other concerns. And in the case that they are as wicked as I've heard... tell them they have until dawn to move out of my territory, or I will see them out by force."

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[Kanaxe_Ru]

Chapter 2: Welcome to Barovia

How long have you been in the mists? You're not quite sure, your sense of time dilated by the lack of sunlight and thick, murky fog. Regardless it has been a long, long ride with no sign of stopping, but any attempts at helping have been met with polite refusal -- the driver of your wagon, a young man named Elis, has insisted that he knows the roads like the back of his hand, even as the fog rolled in.

As a result, you have mostly stayed put in the supply wagon that you've been holed up in (a result of them not expecting to pick up four strangers and immediately depart for home, but such were the details). As the road continues on, twisting and turning with no sign of stopping, the rhythmic rolling of the wagon wheels on muddy road soon lulls you all to sleep.

...

CREEEEEAAAAAAK. When you gasp awake, the world is turning all around -- left and right and up and down, blurs shoving you in all directions, giving no time to catch your bearings. In your disorientation you only faintly catch the sound of screams, and howls, and of horses galloping away into the distance, but you barely even have time to register what you're hearing.

When you finally stop and land, you do so not on your feet but on your side, or flat on your back, and look around from your prone position. You are in the wagon, surrounded by crates that you are thankful have not crushed you, and the entrance door to the wagon is now flat on what appears to be the earth. Dark mud squelches through the small window as the sturdy vehicle, mostly intact, sinks slightly into the ground on that side. You take a moment to figure out just where you are, but the dark interior of the supply wagon provides no respite of knowledge.

In the distance you hear the single faint howl of a wolf that lingers in the air for a few seconds too long. Then there is naught but the sounds of your own breathing and the chilly breeze whistling in the tree branches above, and you are left with your thoughts to consider what just happened.