Haunting of Blackrot Session 7

The massive wretch cries out in agony one last time before hitting the ground covered in its own uncertain fluids.

A calm voice then echoes next to it, “The pain is over now. Leave this cruel husk you are bound to and be free.” Triste appears, placing a hand on the wretched thing.

Ethereal wisps begin to rise up from the wounds that soon form into a poor shy and disfigured tiefling. He backs away from the odd cloaked figure. When Triste stretches out both her hand

(0.0) Everyone watches as the flames catch onto the kindling. The fires begin to rise up but there is neither heat or smoke that comes off of the pile. Instead, a small radiant glow begins to form above into a sphere that shines a radiant light.

(0.20) For a beacon, it’s rather small for what it is. Triste steps over and places her hands so it hovers between them. She then sings out a haunting melody out into the uncertain darkness, hoping what’s out there listens and hears her call.

(0.41) Sure enough, ethereal sprits from where you came emerge from the darkness. At first they’re hesitant to go but the light’s comfort draws them ever closer. The first few spirits who become one with the beacon causes it to grow brighter and brighter as it grows larger in size.

(1.01) You can see among the coming spirits are a few familiar faces such as Adamari and Mirella. Once they too join the light, the sphere glows with a powerful radiant warmth that shines across these blighted lands. You can rest easy knowing that the Divinter spirits are finally free of their domain.

Into the roiling mists, it all reluctantly parts ways as you walk through. It is a pretty clear area, where the trees are few and sparse in number. Continuing on, things only get more unnerving as you hear sounds that do not belong in the woodlands…

Taunting of Power

There are sudden gasps from disembodied voices, “Take it…” they taunt, “The book can teach you so much. It was written by a renowned arcane professor after all! You can shape the world to your imagination!”

From the Mists come a whole crowd iconic individuals. One you immediately know to be Cardinal Couteau, Clovis would know one as Strahd von Zarovich, a man in ripped and torn robes with a metallic and shattered mask put together, a fatigued woman of macabre features with haunting beauty, and a man who hides himself behind an indescribable clockwork machine. Those are all just a few of the masses. The crowd of them come to a halt as they stare forward with hollow expressions.

The voices cackle, “After all, look how they all turned out. Surely they all look satisfied with what they have done to those around them!” The mists blanket over all of them and as it lowers back to the ground, there is nothing there. All falls quiet yet again.

Fading Remembrance

Fantastical tunes begin to play but they don’t sound entirely complete, do they? As if improving on a missing note. As it does, two figures approach, a woman and young girl. They beckon but what’s most unnerving are how their faces slowly shift and morph as if unsure of how they themselves should look.

“Can’t you recall,” one of them pleads, “It’s as if it’s a burning memory.”

Creeping Shades

Eerie silhouettes begin to walk from the Mists, namely toward Abbott. One of them, one that is larger, however, gets between him and the cluster.

The cluster’s hissing whispers begin to taunt, “They remember but why can’t you?”

The larger hisses back, “He is mine!”

There is a cacophony of laughter as they keep getting closer, “Of course, you helped him remember! Let us recall how!”

The area quickly darkens in sight. All that is heard are distorted sounds that blend between a crone, or is it a young girl? Does it matter? For their last words were, “I’m who you are looking for!” Before they are forever silenced by a gut-wrenching sound of an axe tearing them apart.

Vision is restored as the silhouettes cackle back into the Mists. As for your surroundings, they were just as they were, only quieter with hollow howling wind breaking the silence.

Despicable Diseased

Countless misty silhouettes form from the side. They watch as you keep moving forward. Soon they all point to Henrietta, “A beast. To have her presence here means the ruin of the city! Who did she contract that contagion from? What was the source? There will be no quarter given for the likes of this… unfortunate… Only the Labor District is a fitting refuge for her.”

The figures then dissipate one by one as they step back and leave.

The Machine Calls

Continuing on, the Mists begin to grow hotter and burdensome. Small beads of sweat begin to trickle downward. A small orange-red glow catches your attention. It begins to grow as a radio system begins to reverberate around the Mists, “There is no place for unfortunates in my perfect city! Your presence is a ruinous stain on my canvas! The only thing degenerates such as yourself are good for are pigs for this great industry!”

The heat quickly intensifies as the orange-red glow grows to a massive proportion. The source? A massive furnace that roils at the cue of an ear-shattering whistle. The fires hiss as smoke crawls out of every crevice desperate to break free.

The radio speaks up again, “Don’t you see, unfortunates? This world is a machine! A machine for pigs! Fit only for the slaughtering of pigs!”

With one last huff from the machine, all falls still and back to that heartless chill of the Mists.

Tastarn’s Taunting

It starts with muffled voices to the distance, then an echoing sound of glass shattering against a surface. Then, they become louder, the voice of a distraught sibling, “You let me get caught! You were out milling in the streets leeching off father’s legacy when the devils came!”

A misty shape of a half elf forms but where one eye should be is just hollowed out. It goes to claw at you but dissipates into nothing on impact.

Strahd’s Taunting

The sounds of wolf howling and bats quickly fluttering away fill the air. A misty form of a noble points in your direction, namely to Clovis, “I am the ancient. I am the land. It is curious why you are not one with the soil just yet. No, what more befitting than to leave my marking upon you? In due time, you all will see what monsters you truly are, just like me.”