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Chapter 36: Bride of the Vampyre



The Flan Village in the Hinterlands beyond the March of Bissel, Greyhawk
Day Two. Five Hours Before Dawn. Sunday, January 15th, 577 CY



The doomed heroes and their new, unsuspecting companion dare leave safe shelter and plunge into the darkness of night to save their friend, Ingrid Esthof from what she is becoming!

The last thing they hear from their hosts are old Maleva's prayers, scattered by the unforgiving wind, "Pelor watch you and keep you, my children!" Then the doors are locked tight behind them.

N'Rogara leads the way into the icy blackness, urgently tracking Ingrid by unsteady light of sword and flame!

They pass the peasant flock...



...still alarmed by the bloodcurdling howling of wolves that has mercifully abated.

As they race to save their friend, the ranger suddenly discerns a startling development in the trail.

To judge from the prints upon the ground, a pack of large wolves surrounded Ingrid at this spot, only some dozen minutes ago! N'Rogara can almost see them in his mind:



The ranger quietly shares his findings. The harrowing wolfpack numbered perhaps ten or more! But they did not savagely murder their lone, weakened prey who had separated herself from her flock. Instead they continued onward together with Ingrid, toward the ominous mountain that looms over them all.




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No blood, she is safe, the Ranger says in a grim whisper, wiping each hand dry on his cloak and ensuring his weapon is at the ready, more than I can say for us. Looks like the mountain calls.

Urdur gets an uneasy feeling. This feels like a trap, he says. But what choice do we have? The vampyr fiend has Ingrid. She would crawl through flames for any of us, we can do no less for her.

To Telkis, in the tongue of the gnomes, he says: . Geyr nú Garmr mjök fyr Gnipahelli festr, mun slitna en freki renna. Ffjölð veit ek fræða, fram sé ek lengra um ragna rök römm sigtív?

Ten wolves, Faron says. Six of us. With luck I could maybe take out one from the flank. But then it would be a free for all.

Telkis looks his fellow gnome in the eye. “Här ğoon mo erstë mourüt, allé røøst erstîn måola.” After a pause, he adds in common, “We have to be gnome enough to make the correct bad decision.”

Mouser agrees, “what choice do we have by to continue?”

Indeed, Faron says. I for one like the night. I've never been a morning person, he deadpans. But he knows they'd be meeting the wolves and the wampyr at their favored time. At their prime, liveliest hours of operation. And they standing out like fireflies after dusk with their torch and glowing rapier blade.

Jaelen

Time ticks away, and every second your friend edges closer to darkness... Let's make haste

The Hinterlands beyond the March of Bissel, Greyhawk
Day Two. Long Before Dawn. Sunday, January 15th, 577 CY







Five hours before dawn, the doomed heroes venture out into the icy night to track Ingrid Esthof as she hurtles toward a fate that will cost her immortal soul.

Suspecting a trap, their resolve falters momentarily and then they press on with renewed determination to save their friend.

Exposed to the night and all that lurks within its fathomless darkness, they follow Ingrid's footprints, and those of wolves that swirl around her, into the ancient forest that shrouds the dark mountain.

There, they find her shield and armor left behind.

Thus unburdened, she is moving faster than they are. N'Rogara knows they will never overtake her now.

And to judge from the undaunted pace of her footprints, Ingrid no longer feels the cold.




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Faron involuntarily groans when he sees the discarded armor and shield. So I guess we meet the bloodsucker right in its lair. At least that eliminates dealing with any uncertainty or suspense. He looks around for landmarks and mentally marks the location so Ingrid can retrieve the items later. But says, Should we divide up Ingrid's stuff and carry it to her?

"We can if people can manage..." says Telkis, "Truthfully, I feel there's but one item that is really important."

He searches amongst the items for Ingrid's holy symbol of Tritherion.

Jaelen

"Hard battle lies ahead... Perhaps we should not over burden ourselves"

If the rest of the group decide to carry Jaelen will strap the shield to his backpack.

Mouser will help carry and smaller important bits. He is quick to ready to follow the tracks.

We will not catch Ingrid tonight, says Urdur. Nevertheless, let us pursue the vampyr. It will be daylight when we arrive.

Edited based on the info in the OOC thread.

Faron says, On second thought, I believe my idea of taking Ingrid's armor to her was a little... bad. I don't think we need the additional complications of that. We know little enough about what to expect-- except wolves, a mountain, a castle, and a vampyre. Oh, and maybe a few more vampyres. Servants of Nosferatu. Like Ingrid would become, but .... He knocks on the cold rough woody bark of an old oak. Won't become.

The Hinterlands beyond the March of Bissel, Greyhawk
Day Two. Long Before Dawn. Sunday, January 15th, 577 CY







The doomed heroes leave behind Ingrid's armor and shield and hasten on their dire path, entering the eerie woods of the mountain.

A cold wind moans in the gnarled limbs as N'Rogara tracks their friend by the light of sword and flame.



Her footprints and those of the swarming wolves lead them to the Old Road, forged a millennia ago in the dark age of Vecna's empire. Over the countless ages since, roots have usurped it and trunks fallen across it, as if with malign intent to sever it from the world.



All about them looms the darkness, empty and vast. The path overgrown, treacherous and steep, they slowly climb the road for hours without end; a dark tunnel of great trees, old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen, and the unending gulfs of blackness beyond.

After five hours of slow hard progress, the dawn comes, barely brightening the forest-roof. They continue on in the spectral gloom for hours more and come upon an ancient graveyard deep in the woods!



The tracks of Ingrid and the wolves lead into the heart of it.


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Telkis tries to get a feel in the morning gloom for how big the graveyard is and if they might circumvent it to pick up the trail on the other side. For some reason his nerves are telling him to expect an ambush.

“Feels intentional, this route. I don’t like it. I say we go around, if possible,” he says.

If the graveyard is full of trees and hidey holes, then N'Rogara will agree with Telkis.

If not, and there's plenty of line of sight, we continued on so as to not fall too far behind, says the ranger, I say we push straight through. Any mundane traps, and possibly those of other kinds will be tripped or averted by the priestess and the wolves.

Faron
I don't much like the thought of cross a yard of the dead, if there's another way that wouldn't cause too much delay. He turns to Jaelen. Your diety can sometimes turn undead, I believe?

Jaelen

"Aye,that is true... but your instinct is also, best to be avoided if at all possible" Jaelen fumbles for his well used holy symbol just in case... sighing "we might not be able to go around"