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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

Death is not a mystery. Not exactly. The people of Innistrad welcomed its inevitability, the idea of a freedom and reprieve. But yet they feared that fall, that curtain keeping them apart as the rest drew close.

And who can blame them dear listener? It is not I who would proclaim to have no fear of what lies in my eternal slumber, be it dream or nightmare. But that realm must be peaceful, lest the geists not try so hard to grasp onto it, and those even whose bodies are raised by ghoul callers don’t even see need to always return.

The demons and angels play with the hearts and souls of the people. But we know better. We know how to be kind. We know how to be vicious How to work for a life. How to earn our death. That’s why mortality and morality falls to us. I can only hope we are fit for it. And dear listener, I can only hope you and our adventurers deserve it.
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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

Excerpt from the Writings of Cathar Dragomir:

“This is it. This is the end.

Death was… Welcome. It felt wrong to view it as so. But that sleep we are promised, a peace unknown to the living was never so beloved until I had it. And now… The Hold is in ruins. The people gone or fallen. My glorious angel, slain sometime in my negligent rest. No life could I sacrifice to right the wrongs that have happened.
So I shall give it my death.

The Lord was the first of us. Furious. A rancor unlike that I had ever seen. Seething in silence, a menace that I could not put to words. When I woke with a start I knew where I must go, clawing and scrabbling from my dirt and wooden bed. It was undignified. We were undignified. But we were here. My brothers, ready to serve again. We were filled with that anger, brought back by loyalty and love. But loathe am I to say it, I am not certain that this anger is righteous.
It seems fighting back the war of time is almost as hard as the vampire. We lose more every day. And I too feel my memories and hopes fade, and my weariness emerge. That anger has become something else. Seeping, sinister. I have faith in my lord. I hope he can end the madness of that Fiend Maurer. But selfishly I hope it is soon.

For I am so very tired.

And as it stands, this stalemate… This is the end of hope.”
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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

Rest was a luxury. It wasn’t something you idly did, a section of day carved out to doing very little. In the towns the workers drank themselves to nothing to forget the rest of their worries. On the road it was a time of paranoia and focus, a fitful attempt to regain one’s strength. But in Heron’s Light Hold it was a different matter. Rest was omnipresent, but just out of reach. The careful watchers in their ragged armor and gaunt faces stayed resolute, but stoic. Surrounded by decay, languishing in valor. Rest would not be there. And they were so very tired.
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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

Sitting in his decrepit shack, Bluto pondered his life’s direction. He plucked a silvery fish scale desiccated with time from his beard, staring at it as if it would lead him to an answer. It was little secret that over the last couple of years things had only gotten worse. The land didn’t have much kindness in it, but here it felt as if even the waters he had known since childhood were deciding to spite him. The other fishermen had given up, hunting or farming showing better results, and eventually the only results at all. The lake seemed so placid with it’s gray green surface.

But no matter how far his body or eyes traveled from it’s seemingly empty waters, he could feel his mind floating and still in the grasp of the lake. But perhaps it was time. Time to leave like the rest. He stood up from the rickety gray wood of his hovel, and went out to pull in the nets for the last time. It was this day he would find the gray surface of the water torn open, ripped to unveil a creature of a size he never could’ve imagined. And as the beast sunk beneath the still frothing wake, Bluto knew a chance was being offered. The waters had more to give to the loyal.

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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

No one knew where the howlpacks came from. The inquisition bristling with blades and silver say they understand this curse. But what is the good of a lie to sooth the masses when you’re living proof that their faith is misplaced. Maritte was angry. It was long past a fury that had a true direction. The scars on her arms had healed, but the scars on her mind had been there before they ever arrived. She spat, hot saliva impacting the ground next to the trail of blood, steaming lightly in the chilly Stensian morning. Force of will had gotten her this far, too much on her mind to stay in the wilds. But even though the full moon was waning, it’s call would bring her back again on baleful droning tolls like honey to her ears. Just like all those nights ago.

The church was confused. They knew the blessing of silver in form and spirit seared at the flesh of the wolf. But the moon in it’s austere brilliance pulled that savagery free, rending man and beast into a horror betwixt. Maritte didn’t see it as they did though. She pulled herself bodily over a branch, her torn and slack clothing catching on burrs and splinters as she approached the outskirts of Pallas.

She knew that it was silver that could destroy her. And that moon, in it’s own insidious way planned the same. She grit her teeth and stared at the wooden walls of the standing barricade. Hopefully they would be enough to protect the next one. She doubted it.

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