Finn's Journal #48 – Apr 23 – 2018

Janlynn held fast her concentration of her Spirit Guardians spell even as she fought off the vicious bites of the monstrous Shadow Mastiffs, casting Sacred Flames whenever an opening allowed. Akkiir began his dance and soon his green-fire blade was arching through the melee with precise strokes, biting deeply into the creatures. Uphir roared with primal fury as she stepped in front of Janlynn and smote death upon mastiff after mastiff with her blood drenched great axe. Nim and Tetsuo moved like snakes, coiled and ready just outside of combat, striking with surprising speed at the perfect moments.

For my part, elevation and tossing my fey blasts seemed the proper course, as it usually does. It is important to command the high ground so that you can be an effectice communicator of tactics with your comrades in battle; Yes, that is my story and I am sticking to it. I did notice, as I climbed, that about mid-way up the tree and continuing into the canopy above was a pervasive blanket of spider webs, coccoons, and various wiggly, crawling things - much more than could be natural. This part of the forest, and continuing on from here, seemed that it would take us deeper into an ever darker and more rotted region of the Svalich Wood.

Fey blasts, Sacred Flame, sword point, Green Fire, Swinging axe and pummelling fists and feet soon brought the monstrous mastiffs to defeat, and we watched the last of them evaporate into shadow-vapor before us. As my friends below began to catch their breath from the battle, I bore witness to the return of the evil, vile, murder-doll from House Ulric appearing on a branch near where I had found my perch. She looked at me with her dirty face and dead eyes, bringing her wretched finger up to her twisted and cracked lips in a shushing motion. She then produced from behind her a smaller, roughly made doll and set it carefully upon the branch between us, her gaze never leaving mine.

As if holding me mesmerized and frozen in fear, I could do nought but watch her slowly back away from her offering and, with a hard glint in her eye, she vanished into the shadows and was gone. I cannot adequately describe the icy feeling which gripped my heart and wrenched my entrails into knots at the sight of her communicating with me in this silent, purposeful way; away from the protection of my friends below. I'm unsure how long I sat transfixed, looking at and through the strange gift she had left me; mere moments I am sure, but it felt much longer. 

The doll was made of sackcloth and roughly sewn together. It resembled a bloated zombie of some sort, with the rice stuffing leaking out of one of it's ripped seams. I tried, my words failing at my lips at first, to bring my friends attention to the strange zombie doll, as I struck it swiflty, sending it falling a dozen feet or so onto the forest floor below. Somehow, I finally got the words out and told them of what I had seen in the tree.

Janlynn's reaction was quick and permanent as she called forth the power of the Morning Lord to smite holy energy down upon the doll, briefly illuminating the immediate area in brilliant, radiant, rosey-gold light. Nothing now remained of the bloated doll other than some loose rice and small bits of sackcloth. If it was a device of evil, it would harm us no more. If it was possessed of any clues, only mysterious Nebelun would know of it now.

As if things could get no more strange, Uphir began complaining about beetles. Beetles were coming out of her magical Bag of Holding and crawling all upon her. She quickly took off the large bag and dumped all of it's contents upon the leafy forest floor. They seemed to be swarming out of her backpack and her investigations revealed a half rotted bone femur of some bovine animal had found its way into her backpack. She had not placed that bone there, and she quickly tossed it away and began dealing with her bone-beetle infestation. As she cleaned up, many in the group thought that this was the work of that evil, intelligent, cursed doll.

We moved north to reach the actual trail leading to Arganvosthold as the forest was continuing to become more dense and rotted. The trail made things a little easier for travelling, but now the boughs of the trees overhung the overgrown trail, providing a dark arched canopy above to choke off what little brightness the days bring to Barovia. The pounding rain and distant peals of thunder added to the choking, musty oppression of the forest. The entire area felt like the damp, rotted underside of a log, with crawling insects and worms wriggling about our feet and in the trees and their overhanging limbs above.

Soon we came to what looked like a small hamlet that had long ago succumbed to the rotted forest. It's sagging wooden huts were darkened from damp rot and the ones which were not collapsed looked as if they would do so at any moment. They too were covered with the wiggling, writhing bodies of small worms and insects, giving this oppressive, dead place a strange and disturbing sense of life and movement. Things moved and crept out of the corner of our eyes and we wanted nothing more than to leave this place behind and continue our journey. Everyone felt the taut feeling of intense agitation in this area.

We moved cautiously through the hamlet and soon were confronted by a new form of horror to add to our already exhausted minds. Large, bloated, maggot infested zombies began to shuffle out from behind some of the huts. There were almost a dozen of them in all. Writhing maggots could be seen crawling out of puss-filled wounds; the creatures mouths, noses and ears - some maggots could even be seem working their way around the sunken, milky eyeballs of massive undead creatures. Some worms simply fell to the ground in a trail behind them while others clung to the sagging flesh of the zombies. The likeness of these monstrosities to that of the rice filled doll was not lost on us at all.

I would be lying if I said the next few minutes went as any of us would have liked; in fact it was disasterous. There was immediate confusion as to what to do, with little time to argue about it either way. Akkiir called for everyone to hold back and use ranged attacks against the zombies, even as he rushed forth to engage them. Janlynn and Uphir felt that rushing past the slow moving zombies was the best option and promptly made a run for it. Uphir offered me a ride on the way by and I was happy for the escape, blasting forth a couple of fey blasts to knock some of the zombies, that were moving to intercept, out of the way. Tetsuo was looking for some concensus and, getting none, ended up moving to help Akkiir.  

Janlynn rushed forth in a dash and Uphir and I came up right behind, hoping to evade the zombies who were moving in on the trail. The zombies that I attacked were soon rejoining their bloated friends and thousands of maggots were quite literally pouring out of the wounds I had made. We were attacked as we ran past, maggots sloshing from the wounded zombies and the unwounded zombies vomitted streams of worms as we rushed by. It felt disgusting having a damp writhing swarm of the things all over me. My discomfort soon turned to desperation as I felt several of them trying to burrow into my exposed flesh! Uphir and Janlynn were suffering the same fate as I was.

Akkiir attacked the left flank with Tetsuo and Nim. The zombies seemed to be felled fairly easily, but they too were experiencing the result of this as they dodged and fought against being overwhelmed by maggots. Akkiir was dancing and had cast a protection from evil spell upon himself to protect from the undead creatures. He was proving to be very affective at keeping their attention on him while not he was being hit by the zombies or their projectile maggots.

Uphir, Janlynn and I were fighting desperately against the zombies and their maggots. Our plight was worsened by the incredible pain of the large maggots eating their way through our bodies, heading for our hearts. Nim came over to help just as a swarm of flying insects washed over our battle. A thousand tiny wounds ripped across our bodies as we fought the last of the forward zombies, trying to retreat out of the swarm.

Janlynn cast her guardian spirits once again in an attempt to quickly squash the flying insects and the maggots. I could feel the remaining maggots on me drop off from the effects of the spell, but it did nothing against the worms already inside my body. I remember another group of Shadow Mastiffs pounced upon our group, just as the last of the zombies were being dealt with.

I remember sweating profusely and panicking as I felt the maggots worm their way through my body and crippling pain wracked through my chest as I felt them moving. With a hiss of air and coppery tasting blood gurgling up my throat into my mouth, I knew my lungs had been violated and I dropped to my hands and knees. Trying to call out only forced more blood to pour out of my mouth upon the trail, and there was no air to propel my voice at any rate. I looked up in desperation, hoping someone was on the way to help me and I saw Janlynn drop lifeless to the ground nearby and beyond her, Tetsuo dropped to his knees and collapsed face down into the ground, his arms limp at his side and unable to stop his fall. My final thoughts were of beloved Janlynn, and poor Uphir, who would no doubt succumb to the same fate as she was covered in evil maggots as well. Pain ripped through my chest and I knew that the maggots had found my heart, and then.....only darkness.

As I am writing the details of this, I am afraid I have spoiled the plot for you, dear reader. For this is indeed penned by Finnigan Cormac Lorcan Tadhg Fillydook - of sunnydale lane, Glimmerglade, in The Great Reaching Woods; and I have survived our current calamity, Praise the Morninglord in all his glory. I shall briefly describe what I have been told had transpired whilst I was away, and then rejoin with my story of wakening.

All of the remaining assailants were quickly dealt with, but the cost of our victory was a steep one. Tetsuo, Janlynn and I had all succumbed to the maggots infesting our bodies and no amount of healing could be applied that could revive us - We were truly dead. Uphir managed to avoid a similar fate thanks to the quick thinking of good Nim, who thought to use cure disease to rid her body of the infestation, and it worked!

Akkiir used his mastery of the Art and conjured a Leomund's Secure Shelter for the group to securely rest under while they decided what to do. Our bodies were brought in as well and my good friends mourned our death as good friends would. Beloved Uphir, staunchest of friends, was truly saddened and would not release Janlynn and my bodies from her tender grasp. My valiant comrades would not simply accept a little thing like death to waylay their righteous quest, so it was determined that a raven would be sent to the Abbot in Krezk, pleading that he come forth to give the healing he had promised. They had no way of knowing if the Abbot would receive the message, or even if after receiving it he would even come that distance to help. The abbot did not let us down, and within a few hours he had come and used his powerful magic to call us back from death to our mortal flesh once again.

I could write a whole other book about my experience in the realm of the dead here in Strahd's realm, but not here. I will say that of all of the horror I have witnessed in this realm, none of it compares to the experience of being a soul, going through it's natural course to travel to the Golden Hills, only to find its way barred by a visualization of the same mists that surround this blasted land. A soul yearns for its proper afterlife with a passion and force of will not seen in the mortal realm of the living.

It rails, screams and claws desperately to escape but is always rebuffed by the icy touch of the cursed barrier and above and beyond it all is the sensation that Strahd is watching and enjoying each and every moment of suffering that the soul experiences. He hunts and terrorizes these poor spirits and a feeling of hopelessness settles heavily upon every trapped sould in this land.

Janlynn seemed especially traumatized by her experiences in the afterlife. I can only assume that the experience would be all the more visceral to someone as devout as she is. We were all grateful to have been revived by the Abbot and I cannot speak for my friends, but I cannot imagine a more terrible fate than to be a soul lost in Strahd's Realm. I do not want to experience that again, nor do I wish that fate upon anyone. I am more determined than ever to break the curse of this land and free the people from Strahd's tyranny, and finally allow those sad souls the journey they have been desperate for - to their proper afterlife.

An argument broke out between Akkiir and Uphir - both accusing the other of causing the fate that had befallen our group. Uphir was outraged at Akkiir for choosing to attack when she though they should have fled. Akkiir was angry that no one listened and they fled directly into the arms of the enemy. A loud and often aggressive discussion of tactics erupted .