D&D 5E EB's Curse of Strahd IC (Year One)


Josiah from his daughter to Wagner. "What do you know of these Vistani? They brought us here, true, but they seem relatively at ease in this cursed land. Are they protected somehow?"

OOC: More a question for the DM, but since Wagner had been with them a while, I'll phrase the question to him.

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Charwoman Gene

"The Vistani, we, yes I am Vistani despite my fiend-touched looks, are bound to this land we're not so much protected as prisoners."

OOC: Answering to my best knowledge, feel free to correct/add to this, EB.



"The old witch gave you nothing, but cryptic talk of ravens and woe." an old man says with a hint of a laugh, from not far away. He wasn't with the dancers originally and is escorted by a young woman who could be Madam Eva's twin (where she a bit older). The man wears a fur blanket over his shoulders to fight of the chill in the air, and he must have been roused from one of the tents.

"That is Stanimir, this groups diajan, umm... mystic or sage." Wagner whispers to the others. "The Vistani have no lords or kings, a diajan serves the people like one."

The old man gives the tiefling a nod and smile. The girl shifts from foot to foot and tugs lightly at the blanket. "Please Papa, you shouldn't be..."

"Nonsense!" he says without looking at her. "I should always be here to greet our newest Mistwalkers." he adds more lightly and bows deeply to the group, the fingers of his hands steepled together in front of him as he does. "Please share our fire. Partake of our meat, and fill your bellies with our wine." He says rising from the bow and throwing his hands wide. "We are now your servants as much as we are His. I have a story. Yes! A story. Gather round everyone, it is time to tell The Tale..."

With that the young girl reluctantly leads him to a chair by the fire.

[sblock=The Tale]
Stanimir fills his mouth with wine, then spits into the fire. The flames turn from orange to green. As they dance and sway, a dark shape appears in the bonfire's core.

"We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten, a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads."

The dark shape in the fire takes the form of a man being knocked from his horse, a spear piercing his side. Stanimir continues.

"One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn't say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn't give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves."

Deep in the bonfire, you see the dark figure standing with sword drawn, fighting off a host of shadowy shapes.

"This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home, and he thanked us. He said, 'I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.'"

The figure in the dancing fire vanquishes its final foe, then disperses in a cloud of smoke and embers. Stanimir's face becomes a somber mask.

"A curse has since befallen our noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain, and sometimes our dread lord travels with us. Together we travel far and wide and when we find worthy heroes such as yourselves, He brings you back to his homeland, to try and put his troubled soul to rest."

Charwoman Gene

Wagner looks rather defeated at the telling of the tale.

"My new friends, I am trapped by circumstance, not as literally as you, but I have my own bonds. Please accept my help in following the threads to resolve the curse which traps you."


OOC: Oh great an encounter one hour in. Only good thing is you can only have 2 random encounters in a 24 hour (in game time) period.[roll0] + [roll1]

skeleton horsemen.jpg

Through the mist comes a skeletal warhorse and rider, both clad in ruined chainmail. The skeletal rider holds up a rusted lantern that sheds no light.

The mount and rider seem to be paying no attention to the group as they exit the forest and follow the road ahead of you, before entering the woods once more.

Tilly hides behind her father. "I wanna go home," she says near tears.
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First Post
As quiet as a tombstone, one might forget Digger was even there if not for his cold, looming presence. But in the presence of undead, did his inner fire show. He gripped his spade tight and blood again flowed freely from his hands, sending his weapon blazing with light.
"GaAHHH!!!!" Digger growled as he swang his Spade at the skeletal mount itself.

Bonus action to Blood rite.
Move adjacent to skeletal rider and attack mount. Hit AC 22 for 10 silver slashing, 5 radiant.
attack warhorse: 1D20+6 = [16]+6 = 22
1D12+3 = [7]+3 = 10
1D4+2 = [1]+2 = 3

reroll radiant damage: 1D4+2 = [3]+2 = 5


The skeletal horse rears up as the gravedigger approaches full tilt. When the warrior seems to get the mount under control, Digger brings his silver spade around in a great arc.

It connects and as the gold light of its radiant energy touches the creature it starts top crack and flake. The lantern it was holding absorbs the radiant glow and is suddenly alight. As the mount and rider disintegrate the lantern floats above the carnage as if held by an invisible hand.

As the others reach the area Digger charged into they see the ghostly apparition of a mounted knight, his armor gleaming ghostly and everyone can see through the rider and mount, as it holds the lit lantern aloof.

"I thank thee, noble warrior." the knight says in a haunting voice. "For lighting my way out of this accursed place."

With those words he turns his mount into the trees and walks slowly into the woods. As you watch they both fade away and all you can see for several minutes is the light from the glowing lantern, until it to winks out of existence.


“So...if we don’t get outta here, we should look for a crazy guy with a glowing shovel to knock us over the head. Good to know.”

Josiah shakes his head and moves on.


First Post
"This land!" Digger yelled uncharacteristically. "Is the way it is because Good people witness Evil and do nothing. Their apathy...YOUR apathy!" Digger levels his shovel at Josiah. "Makes you complicit. You call me crazy? But to sit...watch...and do nothing is truly insane." Digger than grunted to himself and began to walk again.


With that the group continues on in silence. The road winds through the mountains and after a few hours a cold wind picks up. With no sun every burning through the cloud cover the wind is cold and crisp, causing everyone to draw their cloaks close about them.

The wind also carries with it the smell of wood smoke and sizzling meat pies. The wonderful smell of spices and dough cause your steps to come a little easier and soon you come to the source of the smell...


The Old Svalich Road transitions here from being a winding path through the Balinok Mountains to a lazy trail that hugs the mountainside as it descends into a fog-filled valley. In the heart of the valley you see a walled town near the shores of a great mountain lake, its waters dark and still. A branch in the road leads west to a promontory, atop which is perched a dilapidated stone windmill, its warped wooden vanes stripped bare.


Josiah looks down at Tilly who blushes and holds her stomach lightly.

OOC: The walled town near the shores of a great mountain lake is Vallaki, still a couple hours away.


First Post
Digger's stomach growled with more bass than the man himself...which was impressive. He attempted to remain stoney-faced and pressed on towards the windmill. The hope of a hot meal did not override his natural distrust though and he looked about as he went for any signs of foul play.

Ooc: Perception (with advantage if it involves Undead) I'd prefer it to be a secret DM roll.

Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition Starter Box

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