Tag Archives: curse of innistrahd

Dungeons and Dragons – Curse of Innistrahd Episode 11

Nestled betwixt dark mountain and grey forest, the Wizard of Wines vineyard was illuminated with gentle lamp light, a moment of true victory was had. Though morals were debated, none could deny the victory held this day become night in the gentle confines of the winery.

With weariness setting in and progress having been made, the coalition of slayers drifted to their nightly rest.

To the south, past a spewing maelstrom of flame and ash, lies a building. Stone in structure, ancient, and still. A temple carved from the dark mountains of Stensia itself, but stiller than blessed Graf. Usually. For in it’s frigid interior rooms of unlit argent metal there was a shake. For but a seemingly endless moment, something in those blackened chambers stirred once more.

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Dungeons and Dragons – Curse of Innistrahd Episode 10

Again. They take, and take, and take. The so called cultured and all they hold dear. Her hands quivered as she held her wounds, willing them with what little conviction she maintained to close. They feared the mountain so they forgot it to lull themselves to sleep. Her breathing was quick and stained with tears. And still the chance for vengeance was denied them. She wanted to escape, flee the world a hawk upon the wind. But he was there. Calm as ever. The stony face of the cliffs. And as he lit a flame with the will of the world, she knew she would be fine. To depart for now, but in his affirmation… Maybe they could change something. The forest closed in, never betraying the hunters just out of sight.

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Dungeons and Dragons – Curse of Innistrahd Episode 9

Anathema. All of them. Their homes. Their villages. Their carts. Their wine. Brazen and foolhardy they drink to forget the untamed world around them. Plagued by the dark. But they forget where they are. Built on stone. People of untamed wood and broken bone. The sky tumbles, the trees rustle, and the mountain moans his sorrowful regret. And with eyes of thunder and the world at hand, those fearful walls would shake with conviction.

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Dungeons and Dragons – Curse of Innistrahd Episode 8

Her house was neat. Impossibly so, especially considering the stagnant state of town and the cavalcade of needy that shuffled through her arched doors. It was midday as her sons, foolish boys that looked more like a memory everyday, were out inflicting their presence out on the town, even as daily the town inflicted it’s way back through fools and the fearful.

Her house was neat. A by product of immaculate attention and wealth that the town had mostly forgotten outside the Baroness. The town always felt like it expected to be older money than it was, and she was happy to be one source of whispers. Both in, and out. And today the whispers grew louder.

Her house was neat. Because she needed it to stay that way. Follow the rules. Do not stand out despite name and deed seeming so loud before that fool of an inquisitor and her bold strokes that left cloven into her two narrow categories of the world with a fervent bloodlust. It’s a shame that the lady inquisitor made such a mess.

Her house was neat; before he came to visit. He knew subtlety when he wished, though a vampire’s subtlety is not the same. He spoke in honeyed words, the same as the first time he spoke to her as such a young girl with no view of the world but sadness. And suddenly Lady Wachter remembers, all those years before when she first knew the beauty and the idyllic danger of her lord… And how their house had been… So messy.

It had been years before the signs of blood left the bedroom. But those years were buried under more. Now his confidant voice leaves again, leaving her alone in the midday dark of a briefly empty home, a powerful woman of rumor exhaling to herself. She whispers something to the obscure space of the passing day. And though I apologize, I do not know it’s contents dear listener, because for once on Innistrad, no one heard it.

For when they’d come, the house would be neat.

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Dungeons and Dragons – Curse of Innistrahd Episode 7: That Old Black Magic

It is with caution dear listener that I must remind you of the shadows that fill every waking moment and breath in the Outland Valleys. My contrition for sharing this knowledge is deep, for every moment of these brave and foolish adventurers lives must be riddled with at least one salient thought: Who, or what, is watching them? There is no moment of respite for those who fate takes a shine to. And in Pallas behind ruffled papers and chilly tones, a short scruffy man in an ill fitting suit over his ill fitting skin is the first observer. It’s quiet words he shares with those higher, but those words become like gold as it travels up the chain, and reaching up to the top as unto blood.

But the pale haired woman at the end of the valuable words smiles a decadent smile that conveys a surplus of self confidence drowned in opulence, but bearing the features of someone all too familiar. “They certainly never stop being entertaining. I can’t wait to see her.” she says to no one despite the sycophant at her heel. She stands, a cascade of shimmering red fabric and too artful motions. “We’ll see what they can do.”

And then she was gone.

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