Session 58: A Cautionary Tale

Morning, Ulanra 15th

Prologue
Disbelief, Truths. Awakenings, and Revelations

Previously in Barovia...
The group successfully attuned the swamp fane to Isabella's ashes and returned to the village for some much-needed rest. Sadly, they found nothing of the sort. Between a sadistic wolfwere, a Lightbringer funeral, a bloody murder scene, and some devilish council, the group learned that an infernal cult was also seeking the fanes to resurrect something called Triglav, a being older and more powerful than even the recently-departed Count. And in order to do it, the cult needed three virgin sacrifices, including two kidnapped Barovian girls and Fog-eye's own sister Chiela!

With only two days before the ritual's completion, Ashlyn worked on delaying the wolfwere's execution (he could still prove useful) and, more importantly, Relic unlocked the magic behind a mysterious black rattle found at the scene of the murders. With it, the warforged could recreate the murderer's shadow portal. It could lead to their base of operations, perhaps another fane...

Good Mornings
A sound sleep was had by all, despite the dire circumstances looming over them. Fog-eye woke earlier than the rest, sneaking downstairs amidst a handful of early risers to order breakfast. He was followed by the fat, orange cat Shilo living in Diana's bag. The druid already had issues with cats, but meeting such a spoiled and willful one proved a daunting challenge. A fight over who owned breakfast ensued, matters further complicated when Portia joined them. Fog-eye disliked cats, but outright distrusted goblinkin. It didn't help how affectionate Shilo was with the boggart.

Meanwhile, Thamior and Kaylan shared some much needed privacy. He also introduced her to an old friend of his, the mischievous little book imp he called Ithnot, which appeared as a toothy smile and glowing eyes. Ithnot had been one of his only companions growing up, but recently had gone missing. It turned out Ithnot was sleeping in the history book Vilthanos had given Relic, and once opened he was freed. Kaylan was creeped out at first, but slowly came to accept the little entity.

Next door, Diana woke to find a very different Relic, platinum and white with golden inlays. Thamior's white gem burned in his chest, the Sacredheart, Heaven's Heart according to Ezariel. He was just finishing up with the rattle. Talk ranged, and at one point Diana expressed her serious doubts about returning Isabella via the fanes, but ultimately she resigned (or resolved) to see it through to the end.

Opening the door of her room, the Saspish girl was nearly dragged away by Thamior. The fel reprimanded Diana on her inability to keep a secret. Though her absentmindedness was innocent, the consequences were much less so. She vowed to be a better friend, and the two parted amiably.

He returned to find Kaylan trying on the maternity gown Relic had made for her, a pillow jammed up it to simulate her future. She didn't look very pleased, and jumped ten feet when the fel walked in on her.

Back in the hall, Relic was able to return the Strangeheart to its rightful owner. Tiberius practically exploded into boyhood as he was handed over, gasping and hacking. He was finally free, and supremely hungry. Diana gave him what she had in dragon blood, which he ravenously devoured, while the machine man and the vampire looked on almost lovingly. He wanted more, a vacuum (so to speak), and Diana promised him choice picks of whatever they faced at the remaining fanes. It was enough to send him running and wrap Diana in a hug, even as he changed back into the purple gem and returned to the belt.

Slowly the group matriculated downstairs and had their fruit, meat and bread. They talked a bit, while Fog-eye slipped off outside. A little while later, the group heard a long howl, and not too long after Fog-eye returned with a smile on his face. Relic took them to task, rattle in hand, and led them out of town.

Before leaving, Kaylan tried making peace with Giers. There was no answer at his door after numerous attempts, and she eventually gave up.

Shadow Passage
Deciding it safest to open the portal outside of town, the group traveled just beyond Ignac's bridge, his sad camp still set in the snow drifts. There had been a happy ending for the watchman's spirit, though, and that gave everyone a little hope. There could still be a happy ending to this mess.

Relic shook the rattle and summoned up a giant, rectangular shadow doorway that yawned like some old, awoken wraith. The rattle crumbled, its one use shot, and the warforged herded everyone quickly through, weapons ready.

The Broken Altar
They were transported somewhere deep in the Lysaga Hills...

You manifest before a broken altar some eight feet wide, a slab of pearly marble flecked with gold and streaked with blue mineral like lightning. Collapsed into a V, ruined, forgotten, it fits in well with the barren surroundings, a dilapidated inner sanctum of what may have once been a church or monastery.

Most of the roof is gone, littering the snowy ground at your feet, and dozens of blown-out windows and holes in the walls offer nothing in the way of shelter. What they do provide, however, are dark views of the mountains, the snowy peaks just barely illuminated by strange, luminescent mists native to this realm. You're somewhere deep in the Lysaga Hills, nearly into the Balinok Mountains proper.

The cold mountain wind blows freely, sending shocks and shivers. The sound is ghastly and wheezing, as it moves in and out of the ruins like breath. Pillars lay on their sides, doors have rotted off the hinges, and what scant few flying buttresses remain jut into the darkened sky like broken ribs encasing you in the belly of some long-dead behemoth.

Angelic statues stand headless, their wings shattered, their swords snapped at the hilts. Baptismal pools serve now as bird baths, collecting snow and rain in their basins, catering to small, brown mountain birds and the occasional fat crow.

Though the greater view of the ruins is obscured from this large chamber, you get a sense there are multiple floors and small wings. Faint markings and familiar symbols, though weathered nearly smooth, adorn the walls and altar and may begin to tell the tale of this holy house, its focus of worship and the ascetics who once lived here…

Lysaga's Story
Kaylan recognized the space was once dedicated to, of all deities, Nor. Thamior's mischievous friend had more to say on the subject, and whispered it into the fel's ear, he in turn expounding it to the others while Diana's eyes glazed over...

This was once an altar dedicated to Nor, the God King, founder of the Nors Empire, depicted in a Barovian context as the Liberator, the Breaker of Fear and Chains, and the Spirit of Unity and Civilization, without which all mortals would succumb to the nightmares of Cadavera. His holy symbol is distinguishable as an upraised fist, defiant, but clenched and unified.

More specifically, this was a convent honoring St. Lysaga, a slave liberated in the time of Nor and one of his companions in the quest to overthrow the Gloriandeline Empire. She exhibited unwavering willpower and a legendary threshold for pain, and it was often whispered the unspeakable hurts she’d endured growing up as the favored concubine of the mad elven warlock Felanthar. She harbored a bitter flame because of her sufferings, one which fueled her explosive temper and skill in black magic. Though wrath served her well in the destruction of many elves, it ultimately claimed her entirely. With the war raging, she feared her revenge would be stolen from her and made an infernal bargain to ensure Felanthar’s life ended by her hands.

Though risen as a saint for all her goodly contributions to the ancient war effort, and for being one of Nor’s own companions (once saving his life), Lysaga’s story is also a cautionary tale for when drive becomes obsession and righteousness becomes rage. She is sometimes called Saint Anger or the Patron Saint of Witches, and is often depicted as a beautiful young woman with blood-red skin and night-black hair and robes. There is always a shadow cast over her or looming behind her, the shadow of the devil which claimed her soul and fulfilled her hate-born wish.

Around five hundred years ago, Matron Catarina Parshin founded the Ecatarine Convent on the Lysaga Hills, dedicated to Saint Lysaga, endeavoring to reform the most hell-bent young women into proud, peaceable “good witches”. More often than not, she succeeded, and for many years ran a respected abbey. However it was not meant to last, as Strahd came to power and took a fancy to the abundance of future Brides and followers. The convent was often the target of nightly feedings and raids. After Catarina's death one evening at the hands of what is described only as “The Devil”, the order was fractured and eventually disappeared entirely.

Catarina's Warnings
The group explored the crumbling ruins, finding many tracks in the snow, the majority of them inhuman. They eventually came to an archway marking the passage into the cellars and crypts, a stone door flanked by angelic caryatids, their swords raised to form an archway of light and cloud.

Relic cautiously opened the door, only to find a darkened stairwell leading down. Nothing jumped out, and no traps were triggered. He assumed it safe, until Portia, Diana and Kaylan passed through. The caryatids came to life, turning their heads and warning to go any further risked their immortal souls. Then just as quickly they returned to normal. None of the men saw what had transpired, and Diana and Kaylan were able to deduce it a Magic Mouth ritual cast upon the columns, which spoke a warning whenever a young woman tried entering.

Sufficiently unnerved, they continued down, Portia lingering to see if the stonework would hold a conversation. It did not. The girls recieved their second and final warning via Magic Mouth, again warning that to go any further would damn them forever.

Fog-eye had since changed into a wolf, sniffing the trail and catching the scent of something that filled him with hope and new vigor: Chiela! He surged ahead, much to Relic's worry, though stopped short of sprinting off.

Under the abbey stood a forest of sweating, gray stone pillars and cramped, damp, cold rooms filled from floor to ceiling with corpse shelves. Barrels, crates and stuffs of fresh supplies and, deeper in the complex, bedrolls and signs of camp fires proved they were getting close...

Following the wet tracks amidst the shelves of dead sisters, you eventually come upon the largest stone coffin among them, upright against the back wall, nestled in a canopied tabernacle framed in crumbling cherub faces. Many small eyes, noses and cheeks littering the ground before it. Though the coffin is closed, Matron Catarina Parshin’s wet corpse has been torn from its resting place and tossed carelessly aside, her garment muck-covered and yet somehow still presentable, even her habit still securely fastened around her skull. Rigor mortis extends her arms outward as if in perpetual warning, bleached jaw gaping and eyeless sockets wide in shock.

The group examined the body and eventually risked opening the coffin...

The stone lid slides open quite easily, revealing a false back and a torch-lit hallway of a different sort of stone than what's used in the convent or crypt, dark brown with streaks of tan and something like gold. It doesn't take an archaeologist to tell this hall predates the convent by some years given the hieroglyphs on the walls depicting, among things, a three-headed titan being worshiped by an array of men and monsters, building temples and making sacrifices in its honor. It smells terrible in here, sour and rotten, and various fungi grows where the walls meet the ceiling. A brown mold is so thick on the floor it's like carpet, providing easy tracks to follow ahead.

The Chram of Deep Mystery
The group entered a circular chamber with three wide passages, their archways fashioned in the likenesses of a gigantic bear, wolf and snake head and riddled with various mold and fungi so that it looked as if they'd fur and scales. The floor mold had been disturbed throughout the chamber, providing three separate trails, one for each hall, as well as marks around a section of flooring near the chamber's center. Three sigils, a pine tree, dead tree and mountain, were carved into the massive piece of stone.

Fog-eye deduced these sigils corresponded to the fanes, and that all three would need to be activated in order to open the passage down. Undoubtedly, this meant exploring each animal hall, perhaps reflecting the relationship between the animal and the fane (guessed as the snake and the dead tree/swamp fane, the bear and the pine tree/forest fane, and the wolf and the mountain fane). The druid growled angrily, as it seemed the cult knew of their coming and sought to delay them with this obstacle.

Around that time, a distant screaming grew increasingly louder until it filled the chamber like thunder. The bellowing, disembodied voice of a woman who claimed to be Lysaga herself gave her final warning, to leave this sacred place of suffer her wrath. The group wasn't very inclined to give up now, and the torches lining the walls flickered and nearly died out.

Breath of Triglav
Hoping Lysaga was all bluster, the group decided to try the Wolfhead Hall and passed into its great maw. That's when the trap sprung, portcullises chomping like iron teeth over every possible exit, effectively trapping everyone inside. Large pipes dropped from the cielings like uvulas in the animals' throats and fired! The wolf spewed blinding fire, the bear hosed yellow, corroding acid and the snake sprayed green, stinging poison.

The group was burned and gasping, frantic in the deathtrap. Kaylan thought to dent the fire pipe upward with a blow of her mace, but ended up losing the weapon in a bad swing. She scurried after it and pressed against the wall, powerless. Diana joined her. Relic tried disarming the devices through manipulation of the sigils, but couldn't get them to react.

Thamior drew Ten-Thousand Winters, calling its ancient power to defend them from the flames with furious whirling and turning. This provided opening enough for Fog-eye to morph into a blackbird and sail through the portcullis bars, landing on the release lever and raising the barrier. Portia followed up, running up the fel's back and leaping against the pipe. With deft expertise, she managed to hotwire the ancient mechanics and force the fire nozzle back into the ceiling.

The bear and the snake continued vomiting their deadly breaths, but the group had their opening and took it, rushing into Wolfhead Hall. Once the chamber was empty, the two blasters ceased. Fog-eye circled back inside, his small body escaping the trap trigger, and flew through the two other portcullises' bars, raising those barriers as well. Portia was certain she could deactivate the other two breaths when the time came.

Wolfhead Hall
Barks of alarm and guttural beast-shouts sounded from the torch-lit end of the hall. The group cautiously approached, coming upon a small, crumbling throne room infested with trolls and their worg pets. An ancient seat with the mountain sigil rested on a dais within.

The worgmaster looked fearsome enough with his lash and club, covered in silver furs, and surrounded by four hulking, red-eyed monsters, but the bowed, green warty troll witch was even more fearsome, with wicked claws and dribbling fangs.

Matters were only made worse when a crimson mist descended on the witch and she jerked three feet in the air, twitching and convulsing, and then speaking in Lysaga's own voice that the group's souls were now her's.


Experience: 216 xp each (24, 630 total)
You Know Your History (Thamior), 500
TRAP: Breath of Triglav, 800

Magic: n/a
Money: 2000 gp found throughout the ruins (333 gp each)
Loot: a snack (Portia)

New Familiars
Ithnot, the bosom book imp companion of Thamior, friends since childhood, who appears as a disembodied set of glowing eyes and a toothy grin.

New NPCs
Matron Catarina Parshin (mentioned), founder of the Ecatarine Convent five hundred years ago; reformed hell-bent witches into proud, peaceful white witches like herself; was killed by The Devil during the reign of Strahd and her order vanished soon after; her corpse was seen on the way into the Chram of Mystery, as her coffin was the passage
Saint Lysaga (disembodied), the ghost of the doomed Saint of Witches, summoned from Hell itself to guard the mountain fane; the Ecatarine Convent was named in her honor, as were the hills; was consumed by wrath and sold her soul, taught by many in the Nors church as a cautionary tale; warned the group to leave, activated the Breath of Triglav, and possessed the troll witch in the Wolfhead Hall

New Traps
Breath of Triglav (Level 10 Elite Blaster)

New Monsters
Worgs, Trolls

Active Quests

1. Isabella's Ashes (1/3 complete; group): Attune Izzy's remains to the three Barovian fanes in order to resurrect her.
   
2. Seeking a Sister (Fog-eye, group): Discover the remaining fanes and save Fog-eye's sister Chiela before she's sacrificed.
   
3. Triglav Lives! (group): Prevent the devil cult from completing their fane rituals and resurrecting something more ancient and powerful than even the dreaded Count.
   
4. Rising of the Sunsword (group): Uncover what you can about the missing Sunsword and help return day to the lightless realm.