Our party finished exploring the Argynvostholt. On the ground floor, we discovered an elf, grievously injured. Lady Arimaka and Oscar cured him with their magic, and soon, the elf was sufficiently healthy to tell us what had occurred. The elf was a Dusk Elf, a family of elves native to Barovia. At some point in the past, Strahd felt that the elves had affronted him in some way, and sent his Chambellan, Rahaddin, to deal with them. The Chambellan slaughtered all the elf women and children, and most of the elf men. There remain perhaps a dozen Dusk elf men in all of Barovia, indentured to the Vistani outside Vallaki.
This elf was part of a scouting party sent to try and find the daughter of the Vistani chieftain, Arabella. He did not dare return without her, but as he had spent several days in the cellar of Argynvostholt, the trail seemed cold.
As we prepared to leave Argynvostholt, we discovered that someone had left us a grisly present while we were inside the manor: a freshly made pine coffin with Daisuke’s name on the front.
I pried the lid off the coffin with my crowbar, and a swarm of bats escaped, crowding Daisuke. We successfully fought them off, but the event remained a grim reminder of the reality of Barovia. The party started heading back to Vallaki, when Oscar remembered that he had some unfinished business in the Manor. Daisuke and Elga left with him to make sure that he did not get into trouble.
Sure enough, Lady Arimaka and I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a high-pitched (though dwarfy) scream reached us. Lady Arimaka cursed under her breath “Torm’s honour!” and rushed to where the scream had come from.
Oscar had apparently returned to treat with Sir Horngaard, the leader of the revenants. Although, in his simple way, he had only meant to reassure the revenant that we would accomplish the mission that the Argynvost had tasked for us, he inadvertently mortally insulted the warrior.
As I was not present for the altercation, the following is my best reconstruction of the event.
“The spirit of Argynvost has charged us with returning his skull to his ancestral home!” declared Oscar.
“It seems unlikely that the spirit of the founder of our order would charge you, strangers to this land, rather than his loyal knights with this task!” responded Sir Horngaard.
“It is not surprising at all, Sir Horngaard, given that you are all consumed with vengeance and have abandoned the high ideals of the Order of the Silver Dragon.” Oscar blithely answered.
Sir Horngaard frowns.
“Um, I mean that the Argynvost came to us in a vision in the crypt to charge us with this sacred mission.” Oscar stammered.
“What, pray tell, were you doing in the crypt?”
“We broke in looking for treasure” (Lord Horngaard attacks).
Fortunately, Lady Arimaka, drawing on her great wisdom and experience in diplomacy, successfully convinced Sir Horngaard to cease his attack, and the party left Argynvosthold without further incident.
We arrived in Vallaki, seeking to obtain the wedding dress for the abbot. The town was in chaos. The failure of the Baron to prevent the attack on the Vallaki church had led to his overthrow, and he and his family had been placed in the stocks.
Lady Arimaka was tired, so we left her at the inn while the rest of us attempted to parlay with the mob that had taken over the Baron’s estate. Due to some smooth talking, we convinced them to part with the wedding dress the abbot had requested.
We left Vallaki quickly thereafter, avoiding getting embroiled in a nasty uprising. As we made our way to Kresk, we came upon a raven perched on the side of the road. As the ravens had always been good omens to us, we watched it as it flew off. It flew to the abbey of Kresk, and perched outside one of the windows, appearing to beckon us.
We arrived at the abbey. The abbot was overjoyed to see us, particularly as we had brought the dress. We investigated the window identified by the raven, and discovered a tome of forgotten lore. Only this, and nothing more. The tome held valuable information concerning Lord Strahd. I write this as we spend the night at the monastery, and I pore over the tome in the hopes of divining its secrets.