The AD&D Email Adventure, Week I From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler) Date: Fri, 17 Nov 1989 20:36:32 +0000 Well, I am finally getting the first posting of the weekly update on the EMail Adventure. Now that my players know anyway, I am running 'Ravenloft II: The House on Gryphon Hill.' I highly recommend the adventure and its sister adventure 'Ravenloft.' Up until now, there have been no real combats or anything that involved the rules, so it has been, thankfully, roleplaying only. Now, we get on with the adventure! It is told as the players recieved it, so it is in first person, present tense. Dramatis Personae: xcbw11c@ucrmath.ucr.edu -- Errol Fireheart (an Elementalist/Ranger) tedward@svax.cs.cornell.edu -- Lorinal (a Fighter with acrobatic tendencies) hinker@nmtvax.nmt.edu -- Gegis of Prometheus (cleric) huebner@en.ecn.purdue.edu -- Drood of Evermeet (wizard) cl2g+@andrew.cmu.edu -- Lx&r, The Blue Wizard (wizard) nm0y+@andrew.cmu.edu -- Flynn McCormick (warrior) ============================ You have been traveling the road from Osterton for about two days. You have had time to contemplate your mission for the Church of the High Faith while traveling as the road is well established, and monsters do not approach it. The High Faith received a letter from the Lord Byron Weathermay of Mordentshire, the small seacoast hamlet which is your destination, requesting an overdue favor. Lord Byron's daughter, Lady Virgina, is set to marry a newcomer to the region, one Count Strahd von Zarovich. This Strahd seems quite nice, but Lord Byron feels there is something unnatural about him, and wished someone to investigate him discreetly. It is now the third evening and you are approaching Mordentshire. The fog is quite thick, and an icy wind chills you to the bone. You think you see a man moving about ahead. As you reach where the man was, there is no trace of him. You see a light before you... A darkness clouds this room and the essence of evil permeates the very air. The smell of freshly turned earth is here. This room appears to be 50 feet long from east to west and 30 feet across. There are three empty alcoves in the south wall. Settled into the dirt on the floor, lies a shining black coffin of finely waxed wood. The coffin's fittings are of polished brass. The lid is closed. There is a strange feeling to the room as though you are looking at it through a fog. Suddenly, a resounding shriek of metal fills the tomb! A heavy steel portcullis crashes down, blocking the the stairs to the north by which you entered this room. The lid to the coffin is flug open and a black figure flies high into the air, hovering near the darkened ceiling! You are terrified by this sight, but you quickly recover your senses and prepare for combat. Lorinal draws his sword, Drood begins preparing a spell. Gegis recognizes the threat and begins his prayer to Prometheus. Flynn McCormick pulls out his bow and one of his odd-looking arrows. Errol Fireheart is also deep in prayer or in commune. Alexander begins casting a spell. There are also three figures in the shadows. The Creature flies by the first, a very short person, and he falls. Lorinal begins charging the Creature, using the coffin as a springboard. He does two full somersaults and brings his bastard sword to bear on the Creature, and is totally surprised when the Creature turns around and swats him away, tearing his chest open. Drood releases his spell, and several glowing missiles fly toward and hit the Creature. Flynn's arrow is released and flies toward the Creature. The Creature dodges the arrow, but is caught by the explosion behind him, as is Alexander, who loses his spell. The tallest of the figures charges and slashes at the Creature. Gegis' prayer to Prometheus is unanswered. Errol's prayer is also unanswered. The third figure is moving around behind the creature. The Creature appears to be hurt, but not much so. He moves his hands in arcane motions and as Drood recognizes the spell, the Creature releases the spell. As the third figure is leaping upon the Creature's back, he goes rigid, as do Gegis and Flynn. Drood is slowed down as he shakes the effects of the spell from him. The second figure slashes at the Creature and hits this time, wounding the Creature only a little. Errol prays and is answered this time with a bolt of lightning striking the coffin, putting a large crack in it. Drood throws a dagger and strikes the Creature in the heart, which he pulls out without a sound. Alexander, too, forgoes a spell for a dagger, and misses. Drood begins searching for something in his pack and Alexander prepares a spell. The Creature spins around and breaks the neck of the tallest figure with an audible crack. Alexander's spell is released and a wall of bones surrounds the Creature. Errol finally draws his sword and begins advancing upon the wall. Drood retrieves a wand from his pack and shouts an arcane word. A bright bolt of light flies from the wand and over the wall of bones. Drood then looks up at the portcullis and sees two Banshees entering the crypt. A Banshee flies down upon Errol, who swings his sword across the empty torso of the creature. The Banshee's terrible wail begins. Another Banshee flies at Drood and Alexander, who both begin arcane motions. Drood releases his spell and the lightning bolt visibly damaged the Banshee. Before Alexander releases his spell, the wall of bones is shattered and a thigh-bone flies across the room hitting Alexander in the head, dazing him. The second Banshee finally reaches Drood and chills him. Errol tries to protect himself from the wail of the Banshee, but is overcome by the power of the magic, and falls. Drood throws a bolt of magical energy at the Banshee, and wounds it again. Alexander feels a claw rake across the back of his neck, pulling power from him, and breaking his neck. Drood turns around in time to see the Creature's teeth bear down upon his neck. You have been defeated! You see the dark, twisted visage of the vampire moving toward you, his hand outstretched. You cannot move! You cannot even scream! He smiles at the terror in your eyes...his hand reaching out toward your throat as he seeks to steal the last of your life from you...as you... ...suddenly awaken, sitting bolt upright in your bed. The dying echo of your screams resound around you. Cold sweat soaks the bed sheets and trickles down your back. It seemed so real! The great towers of some place called Ravenloft...the misty vales and the terrible tragedy of a man who had sold his soul to unlife. Too much to drink? Och, last night! Perhaps the mutton was not quite done. The cold sunlight of a dying fall streams into your window. The inn room comes slowly into focus around you. Hovering over you are people you have never seen before. They look concerned, yet pleased that you are awake. Weakly looking about the room, you see your companions, sprawled in cots lined against the wall of the room. None of them look as if they had much better sleep than you. Each lies weakly in bed, occassionally moaning or breaking into feverish starts. You cannot find the strength to move, and barely the strength to stay awake. Before you can ask what has happened, you lose consciousness. You do not dream this time. You all awake some time later. The thin sun of the dying year does little to warm your bones. Indeed, even the blazing fire in the hearth only seems to suck cold air in through the cracks in the walls. The room has a hollow, bitter feeling -- loveless and lonely. You decide to get up, and can barely stand, but you are feeling much stronger than you were earlier. You walk outside of the room with the rest of your companions and walk down the stairs. At the base of the stairs, the innkeeper wrings his hands. He starts noticably when he sees you coming, changing his expression from worried consternation into one of overwhelming relief. He pulls an old rag from his britches and wipes the beads of sweat from his forhead. "Well come, my friends," calls a reedy voice from the recesses of the Greatroom. The inn is not as empty as it first seemed, for you sight a gentleman seated at a table beside the front window, hidden by the glare of sunlight. "So you are up and about at last? Come, sit with me. Let me buy you your first breakfast in three days!" The fellow seems pleasant enough. He is dressed in a grey business coat and string tie. Thinning white hair frames his angular face, and he adjusts a pair of wire rimmed glasses on his nose as you approach. On the table before him is a square, brimmed hat, and a black satchel bag rests on the floor beside his chair. The Docteur provides you all a very good meal. He makes it clear that he will answer questions after the meal is completed. You eat your meal in silence, regaining your strength. As soon as you finish, however, an uproar breaks out as everyone tries to ask their questions at the same time. "Slow your questions down my friends. I will answer them in turn. Now, Errol Fireheart, you began asking first, so why don't we start with you," says Germain, the name he insists that you call him. "What exactly happened and where did you find us?" asks Errol. "I am not sure what happened to you but one of the townsmen found you all upon the road, quite delirious. You were not upon your horses, but it did not appear that you had fallen, you had gotten off to investigate something. You were immediately brought here, the Blackard Inn and I, the local physician, was called in," answers Germain. "That brings up another point," breaks in the voice of Alexander, "what exactly is a physician?" "Ah. In the wilder countries a physician might be called a Healer. I am one who heals without the direct aid of the gods, but through the knowledge of herbs and potions," chuckles Germain. "How do you know our names so well?" Errol interjects just before Drood can ask his question. "Why, you have talked to each other very much for the past three days. It is hard for one not to learn your names when I am attending you and you speak it and your companion's names so often." Germain smiles at this point, "And some interesting comments I did hear." Again, before Drood can ask his question, Alexander interrupts, "Where are our belongings? I did not notice them in our room." Drood at this point is looking rather frustrated. Germain responds, "You were reaching for them in your delirium and to prevent you from hurting yourselves, I had the townspeople remove the objects from your reach." Several of the party begin looking angry at this. "However, you can find your equipment in one of several places. Your packs and other gear can be found with the innkeeper here. Your horses are in the Livery, your non-magical weaponry and shields are in the Garrison. Your armor is in the Smithy, and your magic items are in the Mayor's house. Your scrolls, books, and potions, I must say were in the Old Church, which burnt to the ground the night after you came." A messenger boy comes up to the Doctor and tells him something. He continues "It seems that the Mayor had your paper items stored in a heavy metal box which is now in his house." You are only slightly relieved that your items are safe. Drood takes this opportunity to ask his question. "I had a dream that severely disturbed me. It is not common for my people to have such a vivid dream and I fear that I may be losing my mind. Let me describe it to you." Drood then begins describing his dream. As he describes it, you see sweat breaking out on each others foreheads, realizing that the dream that Drood had was the same dream that you had. "My friends, what has happened? You have all become very pale. Did you all have the same dream?" You all respond that you did. "How odd, how very, very odd. You know, I am into mesmerism some, and would like you to join me some time at the Sanitarium so I could look into this problem further." Alexander changes the topic again, "What information do you have about Lord Byron Weathermay?" "He left word for you to go to his estate when you were strong enough to make the journey, and you had all your equipment." The still morning peace is shattered by an almost animal scream. A villager, eyes wide and wild, careens down the street, drool dripping from the corners of his gaping mouth. Several townspeople chase him through the quiet streets, stopping him before he reaches you. Again he screams, his back arching as you hear every vertebra in his back pop as the four men try desperately to hold him. "Thieves! Murderers! You've taken them...You've taken them all! The village is empty...desolation! Despair! Where are the people? Where are the childrennnnnnn!?" The men struggle against the madman's near superhuman strength. He claws at the ground but they somehow manage to rtestrain him and finally pull him away. It is clear he will have to be confined to the snaitarium. "Poor Luker," says Germain, shaking his head, "he was always highstrung. And since his wife killed herself, he's been walking a fine line. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Excuse me, gentlemen, duty calls." With that, Germain gathers his bag, hat, and jacket and leaves. You spend some time exploring the city while finding all of your equipment. After spending two days there, you decide that it is time to go see Lord Byron. The weather is calm and peaceful. The sun is shining and birds chirp from the oak trees of Heatherwood. You see woodland creatures scampering about in the still morning. Gray granite pillars support the overhanging weight of the second floor, forming an aisle to through the musty darkness of the gatehouse. Two sets of gates, an inner and an outer pair, secure the entrances. Both gates hang open and swing freely in the wind. A muddy set of stairs descends from the gatehouse to a solid wooden door. You travel inward to the courtyard, which is paved with cobblestones. The main entrance to the manor lies opposite the gatehouse. A similar, smaller door stands in the wall to the left. To the right is a simple wooden door, and directly to the right of the gatehouse is a pair of wooden doors that apparently lead to the stables. Beside these doors sprawls a large pile of black dirt, containing many boulders and stones. No grass grows from this dirt. A servant comes around and takes your horses, directing you to the central doors. A young woman greets you at the door. You tell her that you are the adventurers that Lord Weathermay wished to see and she indicates that you should follow her. You look around the anteroom briefly and note that it is paneled with mahogany. Two huge tabpestries display hunting scenes to either side of the double doors straight athead. Wide stairways to the right and left climb to the second floor. There are storage closets with linens and china under each stairway. Hallways lead to the right and left directly from the entrance. In your walk through the house, you pass through the Parlor, an area which is tastefully furnished with overstuffed furniture and velvet wallpaper. You enter the study and are told to wait. You do not have to wait long, however, as a ruddy-looking, handsome man rolls through the door in a wheelchair. His smile is borad as he extends his hand. "Greetings, friends! I am Lord Weathermay. I am delighted that you have come!" "I suppose that some introduction is necessary, so I will briefly explain why I asked you to come here to Mordentshire. My daughter wishes to marry one Count Strahd von Zarovich, all in all a nice young man, but there have been some strange happenings at his house on Gryphon Hill. I would like you to find out the cause of these happenings for me. Any questions?" Your interview has begun with Lord Byron Weathermay, a handsome old man in a wheelchair. He is the only person in the room with you. Flynn starts the questions with "What kind of 'strange happenings?'" "Well, perhaps," says Lord Weathermay, "I should tell you in more specific terms about Gryphon Hill and what I know about Count Strahd von Zarovich. "Gryphon Hill has been haunted for centuries, since the original lord went mad and murdered his family. Everyone who has attempted to live there has soon lost their sanity. A year ago, Count Strahd von Zarovich bought the estate, and moved in. He shipped in several heavy wagons loaded with cargo to the house. "Strahd kept to himself at that time, never visiting town. He hired no servants. Finally, I invited the count to dinner, and was surprised to meet a young, handsome, and intelligent man. Shortly, Strahd and Virginia, my daughter, fell in love. Strahd asked for Virginia's hand in marriage, and I was happy to give my blessing. "Then, a month ago during a savage storm, Strahd arrived at Heather House in the middle of the night, terror-stricken. The same night, Virginia became afflicted with fever and delusions, much the same as Strahd. Neither of them know the cause of their fright, yet they both harbor an intense fear of the house on Gryphon Hill. Neither can be persuaded to return there," concludes Lord Weathermay. "I have hired you to ease my mind on this subject, and before you ask, I will pay your bills and 100 gp per day. In addition, if you succeed, there will be a bonus of 1000 gp in it for you." You are all taken aback by the amount of money that he offers. "Where is Strahd currently living?" asks Drood. "He is currently staying with us. Oh, Miss Ardent, would you have Count Strahd and Lady Virginia join us?" A previously unseen servant sticks her head in the door and says "Yes, M'Lord." As Miss Ardent goes to get Count Strahd and Lady Virginia, Alexander asks Lord Byron, "What does your wife think of this arrangement?" "My wife," as a wave of pain streaks across Lord Byron's face, "is dead ten years." Drood interjects, "We're sorry, Lord Byron, we did not know that she was dead. Please forgive us." You are saved from further embarrassment by the entry of a young man and a young lady. You see an odd distortion in Count Strahd's appearance, which is accompanied by chills. The handsome, blond-haired man before you changes into a shadowy image of a black-haired, dark creature. The image and the chills quickly disappear. "Hello, my friends," says Strahd, "I am glad that you are here to help us." "As am I," says the startlingly beautiful Lady Weathermay. You can easily see why Strahd is infatuated with her. She has an almost Elven beauty even though she is definitely not Elvish. "Ah, my Lady, it is our honor to be here," says Drood in a most regal manner. "However, it is more likely that we can help you if you can tell us some more about your experiences." "I am afraid that I cannot fill in any details as to what my fear is based on. My Lady Virginia and I are both quite terrified of something, but we cannot identify the source of our fear. It is for that we ask your help," says the baritone voice of Count Strahd. You discuss some more with the three, but learn little else from them. You enjoy a sumptious meal with the family, and leave after the meal. You return to the inn. The high-peaked roof rises above the surrounding buildings, the shutters flung open from the windows to catch the sea air. In the window boxes flowers nod gently in the breeze. The daily linens hang from the window sashes of the second floor. Inside, well-worn tables and chairs crowd the tiny common room and patrons duck their heads uner the smoky-grey low beams. The sharp tang of ales, mustards, and meats fill the air. Beyond it you can see the Greatroom. You walk up the stairs to the anteroom before your rooms. Within, you see three figures sitting upon cots, having just awaken from a restless sleep. You recognize these three figures as the three from your dream! ======================= Dramatis Personae II: xcbw11c@ucrmath.ucr.edu -- Errol Fireheart (an Elementalist/Ranger) tedward@svax.cs.cornell.edu -- Lorinal (a Fighter with acrobatic tendencies) hinker@nmtvax.nmt.edu -- Gegis of Prometheus (cleric) huebner@en.ecn.purdue.edu -- Drood of Evermeet (wizard) cl2g+@andrew.cmu.edu -- Lx&r, The Blue Wizard (wizard) nm0y+@andrew.cmu.edu -- Flynn McCormick (warrior) lightnin@wpi -- Carstairs Gerund (a halfling rogue) jf30+@andrew.cmu.edu -- Campan Yerro (a human rogue) ryan@CS.UCLA.EDU -- Akron (warrior/wizard, possibly human) =================== Thanksgiving Break is upon us...we may not be able to finish this semester, but since I am guaranteed access to USENET next semester, I can always finish it next semester. Does everyone still wish to see these postings? Magyk (austin@bucsf.bu.edu) 700 Commonwealth Box 2094, Boston, MA 02215 "Yes, I'm the crazy person running an EMail AD&D adventure!" -- Me Up