Turns out, Igor had scrawled a map of the entire Vistani camp while he was away. His reconnaissance mission turned out to be a success after all, he’d procured a map and some shiny objects to further line his pockets.
After departing the graveyard, the troubadours headed back to speak with Chandra and Liesus, Chandra warned everyone that the werewolves were nearby and on the prowl – time was of the essence and Sir John’s son was only getting worse! Of course this meant the party quickly ran to the blood of the vine and attempted to procure a guide to lead them into the Svalich Woods in search of the host werewolf’s den. Mallein was his name, and torch holdin’ was his game.
Quickly heading back into the darkness at the heart of Barovia, the party found themselves in a canopied clearing of trees, moonlight pierced through the top like shafts made of pure ivory that dug deep into the grassy floor. Mallein was sent off to inspect the lights and told there was surely treasure to be found. While he did find something of value (a small common ring), he also found himself held tightly in the gaze of one of Strahd’s lackeys…he then found himself smattering the vampire’s fine clothing with blood as his juggular was slashed.
An ambush was sprung from behind the party as a small halfling ran out into the moonlight, muscles rippling and fur sprouting from every pore – he quadrupled in size and took the shape of a werebear! Meanwhile another man turned werewolf made it’s rounds attempting to find the weakest prey amongst the adventurers, while all the others focused on the beasts – Tabarast immediately began to engage the vampire in a battle of will and domination.
Igor, who was watching from high atop the trees swung down on his trusty whiphook and hogtied the bear with the length of it’s chain – riding the werebear in a blur of wild thrashing of fur and flames as he smashed alchemists flasks onto it’s head, repeatedly. Unfortunately, that night Igor was the only one to not become bitten by a werewolf. Gimlina did make time to pick up some teeth she’d knocked out of a werewolf’s mouth and taunt it with it’s own discarded bones which she’s now fashioned into spikes on her gauntlets and craghammer.
Using the power of the nature that surrounded her, Amalia turned the tide of the battle by insuring her comrades swift healing and primal protection. Tabarast whirled the vampire high into the air with arcane winds which fed from the druids natural grace, and though the vampire tried to escape – he did not fare well for that night would be his last.
The party stood over him as they cleaned their wounds, rid themselves of flames and assessed the situation. Gimlina had plans to make this abomination talk – those plans started with a steel greave pressed hard into it’s chest.