Session One

← Prologue

Session Two →

On the first night, as I prepared to record the travelers' tale, they produced from their illustrated cards the sign of The Magician, and each recounted an inexplicable or supernatural event from his or her past.

Slag remembered the image of a sword and shield, although he didn’t fully understand why those icons were important to him.

Millian remembered the horrible moment when her clan was crushed by a giant’s foot. She heard the voice of her long-dead grandmother crying out to her, telling her, “Take care of them! They are your children now!”

Jones remembered when his sister was abducted by supernatural, undead forces, and he rallied the village to her rescue. Though he saved her, he knew he must dedicate his life to hunting evil.

I plunged the nib of my quill into the inkwell and, rapt, transcribed as they began their tale:

The Glade

Millian and Jones awoke in a field, in circumstances different from those in which they had separately fallen asleep, their weapons and many of their valuables missing. The two took stock of each other: Millian; a small, dark-skinned, wizened old Halfling matron, dressed in a baggy shift and adorned with braids and bones. Jones; a long-haired, unshaven man in the costume of a frontiersman. As they acquainted themselves and examined their surroundings, they found a hideously scarred body - Slag! a giant of a man, clad in rags, with no memory of his past. Their suspicions somewhat allayed by conversation, the party managed a small repast and took off in the direction of the Vistani wagons’ tracks, away from the discomfitingly nearby howls of the wolves and the advancing fog.

Moraru Manor

After a day on the path, as the sun set, the company found the road improving beneath their feet and soon came upon a country manor home. Strangely, two children stood in the road - Rosavelda and Thornton Moraru. They begged the adventurers to help them drive the monster from their home and rescue their parents and baby brother Walter. The children were strangely vague about certain details. The heroes searched the outbuildings for improvised weapons, finding some farming implements, and entered the mansion as the sun set and the fog inexorably advanced. The house was richly appointed in fine textiles, portraits, and marble staircases, and seemed meticulously maintained. Slag, seeking further protection, removed a shield from the vestibule which bore a red windmill against a white field. In the main hall, Millian produced her tinderbox and lit the central fireplace, casting a ruddy light throughout the first floor. In the hunter’s den, they outfitted themselves with crossbows and found a deck of illustrated cards, and in a cloakroom Millian found a child’s cloak and Jones a handsome top hat.

The Drunkard

Inspecting the kitchen, the company heard a pitiful moaning from the pantry - the drunken singing of Evžen the Derelict, a local wino availing himself of the manor’s largesse. Millian, moved by some obscure matronly instinct, began baking the man bread. Meanwhile, he told the party of the Vistani Travelers, the nearby town of Ravenna, and its castle, Ravenloft (prompting Jones to remark that the raven was an ancient totem of wisdom), and that this manor house was located so far out of town because the townspeople didn’t approve of what happened here. As they waited for the dough to rise, Evžen agreed to accompany the party and be their torchbearer.

The Second Floor

As they ascended the staircase, the party was confronted with a family portrait: a father, haughty and stout with a manicured mustache; a mother, sallow and adorned with expensive cosmetics, and the two children they met outside. Noting the ceremonial suits of armor, Slag found one that suited his purposes. Strange, tinny dance music emanated from beyond a door - a conservatory that fell silent as soon as they entered, adorned with figurines of the dancing dead. Perusing a library, they found a secret room behind a bookcase, where a leather-clad adventurer lay long dead, slumped over an open chest and riddled with darts. Corwin availed himself to the armor and the contents of the chest: deeds to the house and a certain windmill, potions, scrolls, and tomes. In a desk nearby, a key, a lamp, a signet ring, writing supplies, and a letter:

My obedient servant,

Do not allow yourself to believe that your pitiful conjury brought me to this land, or that I have any intention of leading you to immortality - at least the kind you seek. You believe your Dark Powers sent me? Perhaps. But neither they nor I would deign to perform any act at the request of beings so trifling. However many souls you have bled on your hidden altar, however many you have tortured in your dungeon, your feeble sorcery has earned you nothing but my scorn. You are but worms writhing in my earth.

Nevertheless, in my generosity I shall deign to accept your sacrifice, and return him to you—transformed. Accept this gift as a token of my power, and my infinite mercy in allowing you to persist in your wretchedness rather than snuffing you out entirely, as you doubtless deserve.

Your Lord and Master,
S.

The nearby servants’ quarters held a dumbwaiter, by use of which Millian descended to inspect her dough. As they considered the next staircase, Evžen expressed his hesitations, unmoved by “allure of mysterious staircase,” but the party pressed on. Millian, contemplating Evžen, concluded that his fear was genuine but that he did not care whether he lived or died.

The Third Floor

As Slag surmounted the stairs and strode toward a door, a gauntlet buried itself in the wall beside him - an enchanted suit of armor had awoken and attacked! Peppering it with bolts, the gang slew the hollow knight, though not without Slag withstanding a beating one which, strangely, drew no blood. This floor, unlike the lower levels, was peeling and dilapidated. Looking down from a balcony, Corwin caught a glimpse of the children, but upon second glance they were not to be seen. In an adjoining room, they came upon a crib, attended by a strange shadow… “My baby!” she shrieked. “Gustav said he was theirs, that he belonged to the father…but he is mine! I won’t let you take him again!” Jones, having seen enough, fired his crossbow. Enraged, the creature drained the life from him, but his consciousness was restored through Millian’s magic. Evžen, showing heroism, lunged at the creature, only succeeding in crumpling to the ground, and Slag delivered the coup de grace with his pruning hook. Jones found within the cradle only an empty bundle, as Millian mused about the halfling litters she had borne. In the master bedroom, Slag found a longsword mounted above a fireplace, and the party helped themselves to an ornate jewelry box filled with baubles. Through a secret door behind a mirror, they climbed to the attic.

The Attic

In the attic of the manor, the adventurers found a locked door. Entering with the iron key, they found the withered bodies of two emaciated children - the same they had met in the road. Their ghosts addressed the party, begging them to slay the monster that they might rest. The house, they said, was hungry, and only by entering the basement through a secret passage they indicated on their dollhouse could the adventurers find the monster and rescue Walter, who the children said was especially beloved to the maid Maria. Jones asked if the children could accompany the party, whereupon Rosavelda possessed Jones and Thornton possessed Evžen. Finishing their search of the attic, they found a chest into which had been stuffed the knife-rent body of a serving girl. Steeling themselves, they descended the staircase.