Episode 3 · Session III
The Devil's Name
A chant in the dark, an altar that wants a life, a dog standing right there, and at last the devil's name.
Down in the Dursts' cellars the crypts are empty, a hanged man is holding a note, and something with a black heart steps out of the wall to promise that its creature will get us. Past a statue of a pale man with a wolf at his side, the chanting begins: He is ancient. He is the land.
At the bottom wait an altar and thirteen faceless figures who want one thing from us, and Lancelot is standing right there. What we tell them, and what climbs out of the dark at midnight, brings the house down. Then three small ghosts say the devil's name.
The recap
Session 3 in about 2 minutes. The full record is in the field notes.
The four Durst crypts under the house were empty, and when we opened the mother's, a swarm of biting insects poured out and Drew burned it away. Asked whether they wanted to be buried there, the children answered from the dark: "Not here. This is an evil place."
In an underground bedroom Gustav Durst hung from the rafters, a note in his hand. As we read it, the wall crumbled and a dead woman stepped out with a black heart beating in her open ribs. "Intruders, what are you doing here?" Sirius struck before she could finish. "Mistwalkers. You may get me, but my creature will get you." Fëanor put a fire bolt through her heart and she crumbled to dust. Her footlocker held four potions of healing, a chain shirt, a yellow spellbook and a cloak that time hadn't touched. Somewhere in the dark, the crying stopped.
Behind a hidden door stood a painted statue of a gaunt, pale man, one hand on a wolf's head and the other holding a grey crystal orb. Fëanor's mage hand took the orb. When four ghouls clawed up out of the floor, Fëanor raised his holy symbol and all four fled. "You're the best priest I've ever met," Sirius told the man who says he doesn't pray.
From further down came a chant: "He is ancient. He is the land."
Past thirteen alcoves of relics, among them a white feather and a lump of amber, Fëanor saw that whatever ritual they served was already complete. In the last chamber, over black water, thirteen faceless figures stood above an altar with a knife and a bundle of tiny bones on it. "One must die. One must die. Only one." Any living thing would do. Lancelot was standing right there.
"We're not murdering a creature here to satiate an evil appetite," said Sirius. "We must destroy this." He brought his sword down on the altar. "Come demon, we awaken thee," the figures screamed, and the clock reached midnight.
A mound of dead flesh rose out of the refuse while the figures filled our minds with their sacrifices. Fëanor spotted a glittering crystal heart buried in it. Osric carved away the flesh with a natural 20 and was slammed down to six hit points; Lily poured her potion into his mouth and chipped the heart. Then Osric rolled a second natural 20 and shattered it. The mound fell, the thirteen screamed once and were gone, and a weight we hadn't known we were carrying lifted.
Outside, the mist had parted on a wood none of us knew. The untouched cloak turned out to be a Cloak of Protection, and it went to Osric. As we stepped off the grounds, the mist closed behind us and the house was simply gone. We buried Rose, Thorn and the maid beside an unwalked road, and they came to us one last time: "Thank you. You have defeated a great evil, although a greater evil still stays here. May the Morninglord protect you, and may you stay out of the sight of the devil, Strahd." It was the name on the letter.
Sirius lit the campfire with his bare hands. Morning came grey, light but no sun, and we woke stronger than we had lain down. The land had noticed us.
We stopped there, on the road into the woods, with the mist at our backs.