#Curse of strahd blood spear windows
All the windows were fitted with thick shutters and crossbars. Another balcony overhung an entrance to the east. A bar stretched along one wall, under a balcony that could be reached by a wooden staircase that hugged the north wall. The tavern was packed with tables and chairs, with narrow paths meandering between them. Lillian sighed.ĭamp cloaks hung from pegs in the entrance portico. “I thought you liked horrifying…” said Malenthor. “Hopefully this place doesn’t end up being completely horrifying,” said Balthazar, sauntering inside. A painted wooden sign hanging above the main entrance depicted a blue waterfall. Gray smoke issued from the chimney of the large, two story wooden building with a stone foundation and sagging tile roof, upon which several ravens had perched. They passed a stockyard and a handful of residences and lesser shops before arriving at the inn. “Just follow the road to the center of town and it’s on the right, the Blue Water Inn. “You’ll probably be looking for the inn,” the male guard said as they entered the gate. Balthazar leaned over to the man and said, “She’ll come around.
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I’m very good at misbehaving” He added a wink and walked on. “Pretty sure the last time I behaved I was a pup. Enter, and behave yourselves in our town.”īalthazar scoffed playfully. Markovia, in Krezk.” Balthazar pointed at her and touches his nose. “Oh, yeah … that too! We need to go to the monastery,” said Balthazar. “Kicking ass is payment in itself, you know.” “We’ve been known to do some extermination ourselves for a price.” “So, what my friend means is, we’re looking to trade, do business,” said Lillian, stepping forward. “We kill them and kill them,” the female guard said, “but they just keep coming.”
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They say ’we’re hardcore’, without being over the top.” Lillian looked long and blankly at the dragonborn. “This place is a wonderland of new experiences. “Come for the festival?” the man said, snickering until the woman glared him down. “Greetings,” the woman said, businesslike, her accent just a bit different from that you heard in the village of Barovia. They peered at the travelers as they approached. Two human guards stood just inside, cradling pikes. Planted in the ground and flanking the road outside the gates were a half-dozen pikes with wolves’ heads impaled on them.ĭaylight was beginning to fade as they approached the gate. The dirt road ended at a set of sturdy iron gates with a pair of shadowy figures standing behind them. Thick fog pressed up against this wall, as though looking for a way inside, hoping to catch the town aslumber. The woods receded, revealing a sullen mountain burg surrounded by a wooden palisade. The Old Svalich Road meandered into a valley watched over by dark, brooding mountains to the north and south. That should do it,” he said once he’d completed his work. While they bantered, Balthazar found a piece of parchment and started scribbling big letters on it. But no one is going to rent out a people-pâtissier.” “I don’t know, there could be potential rental business here. “I’m not going to become a miller, Lillian,” said Malenthor. “Wouldn’t you prefer it to be vacant of … sinister mothers trying to cook children in a pie?” “Well, I mean this windmill is yours,” said the sorcerer. We run into good times no matter what we do in this crazy world.” “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to remove the rot from the source?” asked Lillian. “We’ll come back for her,” suggested the monk. “Those psychobitches did mention someone with authority over them.” “Should we wait for ‘mother’ to come home?” asked Balthazar. We should get there before the sun goes down.” “It’s two hours’ walk to Vallaki,” Ismark added. “We could try to find someone else in Vallaki to take care of them,” Ismark suggested. They did not want to go back to their parents. They told the adventurers that their parents had sold them to the hags in exchange for dream pastries. The two children were Freek and Myrtle, from Vallaki.
From the top of the windmill’s hill they could see a ring of four squat megaliths at the forest’s edge, ravens wheeling in the air above them. The domed attic was filled with old machinery, and the mangled, gnawed-upon body of Grosk the half-orc gladiator was somewhat strewn about the place.
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Exploring the rest of the Old Bonegrinder turned up six pieces of cheap jewelry stuffed in a moldy straw mattress.