After taking a brief rest in the grand foyer of Argynvostholt, our group found consensus in the desire to not remain any longer in the stronghold, lest our hosts change their mind about peacefully allowing us to remain. We agreed to take our breakfast on the road and made our way back to the wagon where we were surprised to find Lord Vasili waiting patiently for us alongside horse. When asked what brought him so far from the comforts of town, Lord Vasili mentioned our letter to him and decided that he would accompany our group to Berez.

Whether intent upon protecting us from the dangers of the road or merely interested in finding a bit of adventure of his own, he did not say, and we did not push him for explanation. Lord Vasili's presence made the tedium of travel more interesting. He is a most pleasant travelling companion, especially since Doru has now taken to riding in the wagon with Mire to flirt work on magical crafting. I have to admit, with his dapper waistcoat, shining shoes, and gold buttons, Lord Vasili looked so out of place walking alongside me on the dirt road that I couldn't help but kick up a bit of dust in his direction. One use of a minor wizarding spell later, and the dirt was wiped away as if it had never been there.

That leg of our journey was certainly filled with more adventure than much of our travels of late. First, a fat rabbit had the misfortune of bounding from the underbrush. Finrar crouched low, tail thrashing about, and was only just too slow to catch an early morning meal. Unfortunately, the raptor didn't stop there but bounded away after the rabbit with Ragnar in hot pursuit, unable to draw his companion back from the chase. When they didn't return for several minutes, it was agreed upon that our Vistani wagon was certainly an easy enough target to find that Ragnar could catch up as soon as he had recovered his wandering raptor.

Doru and Mire were content to spend the morning working on their bizarre concept for something Mire lovingly referred to as a "Universal Lock". Basically, something that others couldn't open, either with lockpicks or magic. With Ragnar off hunting rabbits with Finrar and Roderick driving the wagon, that left Vasili and I with considerable time to gossip about a number of topics (primarily the nobles and prominent figures in Vallaki). His company is a most pleasurable change of pace and seemed to put everyone in higher spirits as we travelled, although he only laughed when I extended him an invitation to join us more often.

Of course, the pleasant morning was then interrupted by the sound of a woman's screams. Alerting the others to possible danger, I took off in the direction of her cries for help with Vasili fast on my heels. It didn't take long for us to come upon a small cabin tucked into small clearing in the forest. We could just make out the form of a woman in the window, banging on it for assistance, unable to open it or the door to escape before the shadowy form of a man came up behind her and pulled her further into the structure.

The door was easy enough to shoulder open, the lock well worn with time and disrepair. Inside, there was no sign of the woman or her attacker. In fact, there were no signs that anyone had been there in a long time. A quick search of the cabin's few rooms revealed a mouldering pot on an iron tripod over the empty fireplace. The contents had clearly once been human, a disturbing reminder of the foul remains left behind by the Hags at the Durst mill. Whoever the woman's attacker had been, he seemed to be long gone. Whether he, too, was dead or had simply moved on to a new location was impossible to determine. Regardless, I took the woman's remains outside and enlisted Doru's help in burying her properly.

A search of the property surrounding the cabin revealed no signs of the shadowy figure in the window. However, Doru found well at the edge of the property that was perhaps even more disturbing than the wizarding tower in Achelia. The entire bottom of the well was lined with human skulls. No other remains were found, but at least fifty people had been killed with their remains not indiscriminately tossed but arranged neatly within the bottom of the well. The majority of the day was spent removing these remains from the well, digging their graves, and offering the blessings of Abadar over their final resting place.

Vasili was kind enough to help us keep watch that night, as Ragnar and Finrar were still unaccounted for. He sat up through much of the night, making conversation with Roderick and myself. He seemed to be particularly interested in the unique arrangement that Doru had come to with our group. I suppose it isn't a commonly done thing not just to invite a vampire into one's company but to also ensure his health and wellbeing. But more than just being our ward to ensure his safety, Doru has come to be a good friend to all of us, and I don't believe that any regret inviting him along with us. Working with a royal court composed of vampires, himself, Vasili took our explanation in stride, seemingly more confused at our open-mindedness than requiring any convincing of his own.

Upon finally reaching the ruined city of Berez, we took our time looking through the long-since abandoned buildings that lined the main streets of town. Everything was buried under spongy earth. The "street", if it could be called that, was little more than a muddy path through pools of stagnant water. Tall reeds poked up from the surrounding land, and scattered about the town were a half-dozen odd scarecrows that had been stuffed with raven feathers rather than straw. Besides being gruesome, it was concerning that the town was not as abandoned as one might have been led to believe. There were no signs of agriculture grown in the marsh, or anything for that matter than one might need a scarecrow to protect.

Cautiously, we made our way from building to building, finding nothing but muck and mold and the rotting remains of houses that had been abandoned in a panic as the river began to flood two centuries ago. Only on the far west side of town were there any structures that the river hadn't touched. Built on a hillside, both the remains of the burgomaster's manor and the church grounds seemed to have been spared the worst of the flooding.

We stopped at the remains of the burgomaster's estate first, and it was an awful sight to behold. The mansion had been reduced to a piles of stone and rotting timber. To the south, a once beautiful garden was now little more than gnarled tangles of weeds and bramble with the crumbled remains of a stone wall encircling it. To the East, a wooden fence had been recently constructed to pen in several goats that were standing about, calmly eating the tall grass. In what was becoming a horrific theme of the area, the fence posts were adorned with dozens of human skulls.

The late burgomaster of Berez, Lazlo Ulrich, clearly recognized us from Anastraya's party at Castle Ravenloft. He demanded to know what had brought us to the remains of his home. Mire took the lead, attempting to calm his spirit and learn what it is that keeps Ulrich's soul tethered to this world. The burgomaster believes that, rather than his own guilt or desire for salvation, there is some external force keeping him bound to this world as punishment for deeds unknown, preventing him from passing on to his next plane of existence. Astonishingly, he seemed to have no insight into any acts or fault of his own that might be contributing to such a situation. Equally interesting was how much this seemed to genuinely anger Lord Vasili, who is typically quite soft-spoken.

In short, Ulrich believes that all fault with the ruin of Berez lies solely with Lord Strahd, whom he accused of "seducing" his ward, Marina. Per his report, the young woman was repeatedly visited by the lord of the land, was courted by him, and was ultimately offered the choice of becoming a vampire as well. Ulrich says that he and Brother Gregor, the local priest, came to the decision to kill the young woman in order to "save her soul". When questioned later, Gregor concurs with this account, adamant that her murder was the only way to ensure her salvation.

When questioned directly about the events that transpired, both agree that the young woman, Marina, never asked for anyone's assistance, she never expressed distress at this courtship, and never seemed particularly interested in being murdered in order to save her soul. These men decided for her, seemingly without consideration of any other viable options. To make it worse, I found the memorial someone set up as a dedication to Marina. Hidden by the fog and elevated a few feet above the surrounding marsh was a raised plot of land, barely ten feet on a side, enclosed by a disintegrating iron fence. In the center of the plot was a life-sized stone monument carved in the likeness of a kneeling peasant girl clutching a rose. the girl's features had been worn away by weather and time, but the epitaph at the base of the monument still clearly read: Marina, taken by the Mists.

I presume that Lord Strahd had the structure build as a dedication to Marina, as no others remained in the ruins or had the connection to her that he did. Upon touching the monument, I was flooded with the memories of that time long ago. It wasn't exactly pleasant, feeling Marina's terror at finding her adoptive father and the town priest in her bedroom. Fortunately, not yet a fully-formed vampire, the pain of the stake driven through her was short-lived as opposed to a lingering nightmare, waiting for the eventual killing blow. The stake was sufficient to end her still-mortal life. Worse, though, were her distinct memories of disgust and horror at learning that the man she had called "father" her entire life had been plotting with Gregor to end the adoption so that he, himself, could marry his young ward.

Unfortunately, even confronted with this information, both ghosts remain unwaveringly convinced that they were correct and without fault in their actions. Laying their spirits to rest, therefore, would be an incredibly difficult if not insurmountable task. While the spirits are bound to their respective former-homes during the day, it has been made apparent that they can still travel lengthy distances by night. In order to prevent them from causing trouble for others again, the group worked diligently together to craft numerous holy symbols of Abadar, to bless these holy objects, and to attempt to make a contained area from which the ghosts could not leave. Between these blessed symbols, a copious amount of salt, and a liberal dose of holy water, it is our hope that the grounds have been sanctified sufficiently to contain the spirits and prevent them from wandering away again.

(Mire wouldn't let Doru test the integrity of the system by verbally tormenting the ghosts, much to his great disappointment.)

Unable to do more with the ridiculous putz of the burgomaster and his overzealous, rationalizing clergyman, we turned our attention instead to the fence dotted with the skulls of dozens. Skulls, which were, unfortunately, part of an elaborate trap. As soon as the first skull was touched to begin burial rites, inhuman wailing came from it. At that point, a dozen-some scarecrows about the marsh came to life and charged the group.

Funny thing about scarecrows, though, they burn well. Mire seemed to get some stress off her shoulders by setting them all on fire, putting a quick end to them.

Watchdogs taken care of, we returned to the lengthy process of burial rites for the dozens of souls killed. Lord Vasili was especially helpful, being a skilled wizard as well as a warrior. He cast a silence spell, enabling us to work in peace as the alarm-skulls blared their wails of alarm. That accomplished, Doru and I were able to bury the remains of those killed there.

As we were prepared to take our leave of Berez in order to search for our missing companions, we spotted a bizarre settlement tucked away in the tall grass between the burgomaster's mansion and the remains of the city. A ramshackle hut had been built onto the stump of a once enormous tree, lifting it up from the marshy land surrounding it. The open doorway was flanked on either side by iron cages dangling down, filled with scores of raves trapped within. As we approached, the raves began cawing and beating their wings against the cages, seemingly terrified or our arrival. How could one blame them when their fellows had been used as stuffing for the scarecrows that had littered the area only a short while earlier.

Somewhat suspicious of the circumstances in which we found ourselves, Mire used her magic to safely open the ravens' cages from afar. We had already stumbled upon one trap that day, so it seemed reasonable to leave some distance between us.

The... Hm. I'm given to understand that it's a "murder" of crows, but I'm not entirely certain how a flock of ravens is referred to. Regardless of my vocabulary limitations, the ravens took their leave of us without a moment's hesitation. When nothing and no one stirred from within the structure, we approached the open doorway, which didn't at all smell of a trap. The hut's inhabitant must have been drawn away shortly before our arrival. The interior of the hut did not give the impression of having been deserted long.

Inside were several disturbing things, of which, somehow, the cast iron claw-foot bathtub stained with blood was not the most disturbing. A decaying crib sat in the middle of the cramped space, holding a small, adorable child with some sort of magical, green glow coming up around it from the beneath the floorboards under the crib. Happily, it turned out that the child in the crib was only an illusion of some sort. Unlike the many spirits of the restless dead we've met so far, this child seemed to be only a magical construct. If he had once been a living child or a complete figment of the inhabitant's twisted imagination, we don't know.

I was able to pry up the floorboards to obtain a large, glowing rock of sorts from under the baby's crib. I'm not entirely certain what it is except that it gives off a strong magical aura. In the room, we also came upon a chest. Roderick attempted to open this only to be attacked by four clawed hands that sprang forth in an attempt to strangle him. Mire, Lord Vasili, Doru, and I were all quick to come to his aid, and soon enough, the disembodied arms were dispatched.

I believe we found the third object that Madame Eva spoke of in that hut. Under a collection of things, we found the hilt of a very special sword. After carefully studying this hilt for some time, I was able to determine that it is not just a powerful sword in its own right but also seems to contain some form of sentience. Not only that, but I got the distinct impression that it did not care much for Doru's presence. I didn't have the time to fully attune myself to it, but from what I could tell, it seems to be some sort of sunsword, which means that Doru won't care for this blade any more than it seems to like him.

After quickly wrapping the blade in a cloth and stuffing it deep into my bag for safety, the group stepped out of the hut into a bustling, thriving little town rather than the half-sunk marsh we had expected to encounter...