Argynvolstolt, Part One

I shall endeavor to write this in account in the order by which it has happened thus far… trying to not allow myself to be swayed in the writing by my reeling emotions… I fear to lose any important detail if I let myself get caught up in what I want to write, when what is important right now is an exact faithful account of our time in Argynvolstolt thus far…

As we approached the ruins, the world fell silent. Eerily so. There were none of the normal sounds of life in the area… no birdsong, no chirping of insects, nothing but the quietly moaning winds. The gates were closed and locked. It was painfully obvious that no one has come this way in quite a few years, if not centuries.
 
Oswald rode up to the door, as he had summoned his undead warhorse when we began approaching Argynvolstolt. He knocked loudly on the door and proclaimed himself a paladin of Lythander, naming his order and lineage from Faerun. He called for the paladins of the Order of the Silver Dragon to open their gates and treat with him. I didn’t know that Oswald was even capable of such a show of eloquence… but I suppose that he can do so when the occasion requires it. Whatever it was about his speech, it worked, for a few moments later, the gates creaked open, cobwebs and dust falling down on us as we followed Oswald through into the silent courtyard.
 
Oswald rode ahead of us, his posture as straight and proud as any knight or lord. He turned his head to us as he passed, pointedly looking at Brynden, as he said “I will be expecting an apology in ten minutes.” I felt guilty then. I know it might not have been specifically aimed at me, but it felt like it was. I apparently misjudged the half-orc, thinking him kind but more than a little dense. I didn’t even consider the fact that he must have been trained in more etiquette than I ever was…
 
The courtyard was eerily silent, even more so than the land outside. I had the uneasy feeling that I was walking into a haunted tomb, one which the restless spirits of the dead are ever wandering, waiting to sink their clutches into unsuspecting passersby. Odd, I know, considering how locked and sealed up this whole place has been, but that was the feeling in my gut and the prickle on the back of my neck.
 
We followed Oswald up to the door, and he again knocked. This door creaked open and we found ourselves entering a great hall that was cast in total darkness, save for the small shaft of light that was cast across the floor from the open door. There were bones everywhere… skeletons of long dead warriors… my initial instincts about this place had been correct. This was a tomb. The door swung shut behind us with an ominous thud.
 
A figure materialized in on a dais in front of us. I say materialized because I honestly have no idea where he came from. He didn’t arrive. There was no one there, then suddenly, he was standing right in front of us. I could make out eerie blue flames burning in his eyes. He was obviously undead of some type, but he didn’t seem to faze Oswald in the slightest, which I thought odd.
 
The armored figure spoke then, his voice a quiet grating that sent prickles of unease down my spine. He challenged Oswald, wanting to know why we came and stating that the agents of Strahd are clever and will use any disguise to get back that which we come seeking. I can only assume that he is speaking of Strahd’s book.
Oswald explained that one of the paladins rode by and tossed him a silver coin that summoned his horse. He thinks there must be a reason for that, because otherwise, why would the paladin have given it to him? It’s not like knights are likely to give away their mount without a very good reason.
 
The knight reached out his ghostly glowing arm for Oswald to approach, and show him the coin. He complied, placing the silver coin in the knight’s hand. I couldn’t make out what was happening in any detail, because Oswald’s bulk was blocking my view. I did hear the same disturbing voice ring out, ordering Oswald to summon his mount.
 
I wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do that, seeing as I was pretty sure that he had left his horse standing outside. Instead of re-summoning the creature, Oswald put two fingers into his mouth and loosed a piercing whistle.
 
Boom! A great blow rocked the doors, sending more dust cascading down. Boom! Boom! Boom!
The knight nodded his head, and the great doors once again swung open. Oswald’s skeletal horse walked sedately in, his barding arching proudly over what, in life, must have been an impressive form. He sauntered up to Oswald and nudged his shoulder, whickering.
 
The knight finally conceded that we might not be agents of Strahd, but that since the enemy is clever and his pawns use many disguises, Oswald would have to prove himself.
Oswald looked around at the knight, his own horse, and all of the skeletons littering the floor. “Ya know…” He said. “You are all full of so much hatred and anger at Strahd… I might not know a whole lot, but what my god says is that that amount of sheer hatred can’t be good for you. Have you ever thought about forgiving Strahd?... maybe that way you could finally find peace.”
 
I knew it as soon as the words left his mouth. Oswald had likely just doomed us all… you don’t tell a castle full of revenants that they should just forgive the one who drove them to their fates… they are beings whose very life force is bound to their rage and hatred… my initial panicked thought was confirmed when the entire hall lite up with glowing blue eyes, and all of the skeletal warriors stood and began advancing on us.
 
“Wait!” I called out. I’d been trying to let Oswald do that talking, but now, it seemed as though he was going to get us killed more than help anyone. I could see Brynden readying himself to cast one of his spells. I turned to him, shaking my head urgently, hoping beyond hope that he would actually follow my lead just this once…
I pushed my way up to the front of the party, casting a worried glance to Trevor. At least, I think he understood what would happen if Brynden went into one of his stupidly reckless attacks. I would not be able to cast enough spells fast enough to get us out of that situation alive… if Brynden attacked right now, or if I wasn’t able to diffuse the situation, we would all die here.
 
Pouring every ounce of persuasion that I possessed into my voice and words, I tried to talk our way out of the impending massacre. “Please ignore my friend.” I implored the revenant. I explained that Oswald is incredibly well-intentioned, but he isn’t necessarily the most intelligent person in Barovia… I told him that we do not want them to forgive Strahd, we are trying to defeat him. For one brief moment, I thought about telling him that we are helping Ireena keep herself away from Strahd’s grasp, but I almost instantly thought better of it… if they truly hate Strahd with such a passion that it brought them back from death, these revenants would be more likely to simply kill her to hurt Strahd, than they ever would be to try to protect her. They haven’t spent the time that we have, getting to know her and befriending her… I wasn’t about to serve them up Ireena on a platter - for that is exactly what I would be doing if I told them anything about her…
 
When I felt the eerie flames of the knight’s eyes focus on me, a chill went down my spine. I could feel our lives hanging in the balance. I told him that we wanted to read the tome and find out what information we could that would aid us in our fight against Strahd. Obviously, there is something about that book that the knights were against letting us have it… I thought back to what Madam Eva had said in the Vistani camp… it would impart great knowledge to us. That gave me an idea.
I told the knight that we didn’t necessarily want to take the book from Argynvolstolt… we just wanted to read it. “We don’t even have to touch it.” I told him, gaining confidence in what I was saying. “Your commander can turn the pages! We just want to gain the knowledge that is in the book.”
 
He looked mildly interested at that, well… at least as interested as a spirit inhabiting a suit of armor can look… but more importantly, the others all stopped advancing on us. They stood there, blue glowing flames in their eyes… but they had halted.
 
Maybe we would be able to get out of this alive after all…
I couldn’t quite make out what Oswald and the knight were saying, but he kept looking at his horse and then back at the party. Something was obviously going on, I just couldn’t tell what it was…

“He wants to taste flesh.” Oswald called back to us.

“What?” Brynden demanded.

Oswald then went on to say that his horse, apparently, wanted to taste a bite of man-flesh. I asked if he was meaning that he wanted to get into a fight, surely a warhorse would be able to take a bite out of someone in a battle… Oswald shook his head and said that he wanted it now. He wanted to try a piece of Brynden’s flesh.

Brynden began freaking out, understandable, but completely irrational at the same time… Oswald said that he didn’t specify how big of a piece, and asked if he could cut a little piece of Brynden’s cheek for the horse.

Brynden vehemently refused, and I could see the energy begin gathering in his hands that heralded the beginnings of one of his bolts of pure chaos magic.

This was going to be so very bad… I couldn’t let Brynden attack the horse! It would probably set off all of the undead in this place and they would cut us to pieces! Oh fuck… I couldn’t believe what I was going to do, frankly, I still can barely believe it.

“Wait!” I called, running up toward Oswald, consciously putting my body in between that of Brynden and the horse as I moved. “I’ll do it!” I exclaimed, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

Oswald looked at his horse and then back at me. He said that his horse agreed, but that he wanted twice as much flesh. Fuck. I stood there while Oswald pulled his dagger out. His eyes were sincere when he asked me if I was sure that I wanted to do this. I didn’t have to, he told me. But, I did. That was the whole point, I think… that someone needed to agree to have this done in order for him to prove whatever it was that he needed to prove to these people, revenants, whatever they are…

I closed my eyes as his dagger moved closer to my face. I couldn’t believe that I was standing here letting him do this. He whispered some apology and said that he would heal me. But, I don’t know if he would be able to… stop the bleeding, yes, but avoid or heal a scar? I heard Trevor say something about scars being attractive, but I couldn’t muster up the humor to even chuckle. This was going to be bad…

Just when the dagger almost touched my face, the revenant knight held up his hand, and told Oswald that he had passed the first test. Apparently, the test was to see if he held enough loyalty to his horse to hurt one of his friends at the horse’s request. I don’t understand it, but I’m also not complaining… I really did not want the undead thing to actually eat a piece of me!
 
A doorway opened on the other side of the room, and the revenant knight told Oswald that we could continue to the next chamber.

As we entered the next room, we found ourselves facing a chasm. I don’t know how deep it was, but Van Richten tossed a pebble off the edge, and I never heard it hit the bottom. There was a bridge jutting out across the chasm not too far away, and there was a massive armored figure standing in the middle of it, both gauntleted hands resting on the pommel of his massive sword.

We all shimmied our way along the ledge over towards the bridge. Much as he had earlier, Oswald walked forward to meet the armored figure on the bridge. I could hear him ask for passage and be refused. The knight demanded a duel in order to step aside. Oswald moved to accept, but the knight informed him that it couldn’t be him… he had to name a champion from among the group of us. If the champion was defeated, then they would be thrown to their death from the bridge.
 
When Oswald came back and told us of this new obstacle, Brynden piped up, saying that he wanted to fight… I think he was feeling guilty that he didn’t have the courage to let Oswald cut his cheek, when I was going to let him do it to me…
 
Erkki butted into the conversation, telling Oswald that it was going to be him, because there was an anti-magic field surrounding the entire bridge, besides… apparently he thought that if he were to lose, it would be a fitting end for a slayer. From what I was able to gather, he’s supposed to find death in battle because of some dwarven custom or oath… I’m not sure.
 
Erkki stepped out onto the bridge and faced up against the massive knight. They fought a furious battle and Erkki looked like he was winning the upper hand. Until he wasn’t. The revenant had Erkki bent over, his head and upper body hanging off the edge of the bridge. The threatening voice called back to Oswald asking him to make his choice… telling him that Erkki was going to go over the edge into the chasm, unless Oswald was willing to trade places with him. Before Oswald could reply, Erkki shouted that he wasn’t going to be giving Oswald any moral dilemmas. With a mighty roar, Erkki launched a mighty blow that broke the revenant’s hold on him, and with a bellowing laugh, he fell.
 
I haven’t felt that desperately helpless since I was a young girl fleeing from a burning village. Erkki was in an antimagic field… nothing I could do would be able to help him. There was nothing any of us could do that would help him. I couldn’t even put him to sleep to make his end a bit less painful. I couldn’t even play him a song to ease his passing. Nothing. I couldn’t do anything but stand by and watch him fall into the darkness of the chasm.
 
I think I heard Brynden scream in denial. I can’t be sure, though. Everything was in a haze. I didn’t even know he cared that much for the dwarf. Or maybe it was just that without Erkki, our chances of making it through the rest of the trials that these sick, undead bastards would think up, were greatly lessened without the jovial dwarf. I don’t know. My mind isn’t processing this very well right now.
 
I shall have to write a song. But not here… not in this place. I will write the song of Erkki, so that the children of Barovia might know of the fierce, indomitable dwarf who gladly gave his life in a fight for his friends…
 
After Erkki’s fall, our greatly subdued group moved on to the next room…
 
It was filled with treasures, the likes of which I’d never seen before in my life. Elven artifacts and other weapons and armor, not to mention books and scrolls, were scattered about everywhere amongst the gold and platinum coins. It was tempting to pick up something, but, I knew, and repeatedly reminded the others, that to disturb or try to remove anything from this place would likely result in certain death…
 
There was a keystone in the center of the room, as well as eight different chests…
 
Another armored figure appeared in the room and told us to turn back, that to continue would bring nothing but death and misfortune to the party.
 
We shrugged the warning off. We hadn’t come this far, and lost Erkki, to merely turn back at a cryptic warning. We needed to find the book that Madam Eva had told us about, and I’m pretty sure by now that it must be the same book that Van Richten claims to have removed from Castle Ravenloft itself.
 
The keystone had something inscribed on it, it was a dwarf rune. I have no idea what it says, and I found myself greatly wishing that Erkki was there, for he would have been able to figure out the entire thing very quickly… I’ve never seen anyone find clues in stone as well as the dwarf, no matter how obscure, Errki always found the information that he was looking for in the stone – at least as long as he has been travelling with us. Had… Not has... Had been travelling with us… this is going to take some getting used to…
 
Anyways… Oswald opened one of the chests and found nothing that seemed to be the key. Then, he went to open another one and was unable to even touch the object. It must be warded or something – maybe each person is only allowed to pick one chest to open, we decided.
 
Immediately upon that decision, Brynden (I think he feels like he has something to prove, especially now that Erkki is gone…) walked over and opened one of the chests. He found a wide variety of scrolls and spellbooks, interspersed throughout the overflowing chest. As soon as he began rifling through the papers, trying to find a key buried in its depths, the lid snapped shut on Brynden’s arms with a sickening crunch. Before we could do anything to react, long slender legs emerged from the chest, and it stood up to it’s full height – which lifted Brynden a solid fifteen feet off of the floor, held up by only his arms, which were bleeding profusely.
 
Blood was pouring down Brynden’s arms, soaking his cloak and the clothes under his armor, as the entire group jumped into action. I don’t remember exactly what happened in the fight, I just know that I really like my new Elvish scimitar that I got from one of the vampires in the basement… Eventually, we managed to defeat the mimic, killing it and extracting Brynden’s arms so we could heal him…
 
We still haven’t found the key… and there are still six more chests to go…