II - Infant Mortality

I can see that I shall have to keep an eye on Reuben should we by necessity spend any time together. He is somewhat wilful in his actions and I fear that his urgency to dash into a situation may yet be detrimental. Before anyone can offer reason he has his giant axe drawn and is checking the nearby rooms for the source of the crying. Pushing past others with his rumbling 'excuse me' and 'make way there'. Merely a pretence at politeness that his elbows and general bulk deny.

Opening the door the bugbear closely followed by the firbolg are confronted by what we initially presume to be a nursemaid or nanny cradling a crying infant. The maid turns to our assembled group and without a hint of surprise in the face of such a towering group of unlikely compatriots shushes them to silence so as not to frighten the babe.

Turning back to the crib the maid rests the infant down then silently floats through both K'hevin and Derrumbes past the group to another room and disappears into a mirror.

I am stunned. The apparition, once in the light of the hallway, is shown to be transparent and floating above the floor, is clearly a foul creature of some demonic creation such as I had begun studying at the Temple. Sadly I had yet to attain enough knowledge to fully identify the fell beast so shall here resort to the common nomenclature of Ghost.

Impression of the maid ghost.

Yet it was not the sudden appearance of and interaction with an unliving being that shocked me. It was the total inaction of the remainder of the party. Had I not been towards the rear, mostly due to the incessant pushing and elbowing of the giant bugbear I should have levelled my spear or invoked some divine strike upon the fiend. Yet not one other raised a hand in righteousness against the apparition. Most shocking of all was the inaction of my fellow devouts Cai and the Holy Warrior Reuben. 

I am beginning to wonder what manner of man, cat or celestial would suffer one of the unliving to exist? I challenged them so.

Reuben was remarkably silent on the matter but Cai offered only that "Not every situation has to be met with force." A remark that stung with the suggestion he thinks me so easily stirred to acts of violence. If only he knew what I already do. I resolve to address the issue at a later date and pray that I have the opportunity to do so and that his passive inaction does not lead us to harm.

Examining the mirror identifies it as a doorway that opens onto a dark dusty passage behind. 

Lazlo it seems has some nature of connection to his pet owl. Possessing the ability to see through its eyes. A feat that is somewhat more impressive in the saying of than it is in actuality. For although this means that he is able to send the owl far ahead and see in the dark, it does mean that at the same time he stumbles over his own feet and has to be lead like a sheep. Along with the bugbear's continual harumphing and the firbolg's inability to go more than a moment without a question about the most inane of subjects I fear if I must stay too long with this group that our chances of passing undetected are slim.

As a devotee of the space between night and day, my senses are as keen in the dark as they are at noon. But I am as yet wary of this group and do not wish to become their defacto vanguard for the simple expediency that I can see what the clumsy and noisy rest of them cannot.

As most of us are examining the passage way, Derrumbe attended to the child in the cot. Only to discover that the babe was naught more than an apparition itself and the cot was empty. This seemed to confuse her rather naïve state and she kept questioning whether vanishing was a regular occurrence for small humans,  I am yet to determine if the firbolg is so otherworldly as to have no experience of the real world or is just a simpleton.

Before embarking on the passageway the group shares information that they had not previously divulged. Namely that it seems they believe the master of the house, a certain Lord Durst, had sired a bastard with the nanny. In addition they believed that the monster in the basement the children had warned them about was in fact something to do with ritual sacrifice and potential cult worship.  They shared with me a letter that as much confirmed it. Although unbeknown to me at the time the author of the letter was to be no stranger to my nightmare for a long time to come.

My most pathetic servant,

I am not a messiah sent to you by the Dark Powers of this land. I have not come to lead you on a path to immortality. However many souls you have bled on your hidden altar, however many visitors you have tortured in your dungeon, know that you are not the ones who brought me to this beautiful land. You are but worms writhing in my earth.

You say that you are cursed, your fortunes spent. You abandoned love for madness, took solace in the bosom of another woman, and sired a bastard son. Cursed by darkness? Of that I have no doubt. Save you from your wretchedness? I think not. I much prefer you as you are.

Your dread lord and master,

Strahd von Zarovich

Reading of this letter sent shivers of dread down my spine. Images of Baxter Street and the horrors therein come floating back to me unbidden. Am I to be tested again so soon? Am I to be given no time in my holy studies to grow strong and prepare before I have to face that which I vowed to defeat? Momentarily I feel weak before I draw myself together and follow the bugbear into the passageway delving deeper into the Manor house.

Durst Manor. Charcoal sketch from memory.

Next : Chapter III - Child Care