Hey, again, everyone! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I had a bit of writer's block. Also, I started Game of Thrones for the first time a few days ago. I'm on Season Three already, cause I been binge-watching like fuck. It's sooooooo good though! Anyways, here I am, with an all new chapter on (cue epic vampire music) Curse of Strahd! Please enjoy, and remember to leave a review if you notice something I could do better! I appreciate it!
Chapter Ten
Ezmerelda
Night was just beginning to fall around Ezmerelda when she rounded a bend and the town of Vallaki was before her. She had made it through the Balinok Mountains without incident, and had since descended into the Valley of Barovia, watched over by Mount Baratok to the north and Mount Ghakis to the south. While the Balinok Mountains were hardly deserving of the name, being little more than upjumped hills, these were true mountains, with forested Baratok's top lost in the dark storm clouds above the valley, and bald Ghakis being even larger than that. She supposed that they could be seen as protecting the little valley, but Ezmerelda saw it more like they were choking off all chance of life and escape.
Now, before her, the Svalich Woods receded slightly, revealing a sullen town surrounded by a wooden palisade. Through the now increasing rain, she saw the welcome sight of nervously sputtering torches on either side of the gate, the light seeming to lift her rain-dampened spirits a little. Outside the palisade were a few small farms, with candlelight showing through the windows. It was a welcome sight to see civilization after a hard day of traveling, and the thought of a warm meal, a soft bed, and some good wine drove her to click her tongue at Fate, who began to walk a little faster, as if sensing the prospect of good food as well. The rain was now beginning to pour, and Ezmerelda started to shiver a little bit. She had never liked the rain, and Barovia wasn't exactly a warm place, either. As she got closer to the gates, she saw that outside them were about a dozen wolf heads impaled on pikes. She cocked her head at this gruesome display. She had no idea what the purpose of them was, but whatever it might be, she doubted it had been very effective.
Reaching the gate, which was closed, Ezmerelda dismounted Fate and moved towards the gate, only to be halted by a cry of, "Who goes there?" by one of the two shadowy figures beyond the iron bars.
"I am merely a traveler, seeking food and a warm bed for the night," She called back.
"We do not usually open our gates to strange travelers, especially at night," he replied.
"I would hesitate to call this 'nighttime,'" she replied, looking up at the sky, which was just beginning to show signs of darkening.
"Even so…" the man replied.
"Wait, Grygori!" the other man exclaimed suddenly. "Look at her face! She's a fucking Vistana!"
Grygori's eyes widened and he hastily made the sign of the Morninglord, snarling, "Back, devil-spawn! We don't allow your kind in this town. Begone, or we'll sound the alarm!"
Ezmerelda bristled. "Wait just one second-" she began, but Grygori interrupted her.
"We won't fall for your tricks, you filthy servant of the devil Strahd!" He spat and made the sign of the Morninglord again. "I'm going to count to ten, and if you're not gone by then, you'll wish you'd never been spawned. One. Two. Three."
"Okay, I'm going, I'm going!" With a final furious glance, she hopped back on the seat of her wagon and turned it around, Fate's hooves making squishing noises in the mud, Grygori making one final rude gesture at her.
Where could she go? She could, of course, park her wagon anywhere and sleep in it, but it would be beyond foolish to stay the night by herself in Barovia. Even though she was a Vistana, with the ability to leave Barovia at will, there were dark things that came out at night in this forgotten land, beings that haunted the depths of her darkest nightmares. She had seen many horrifying things in her lifetime, but rather than enlighten her to the dark, they only served to make her more cautious and wary.
She did recall there being a small dusk elf community about half a mile from town. The dusk elves were no friends to the Vistani, but the two peoples were on cordial terms, and Ezmerelda recalled camping at their village with her clan when she was a girl. She would make for there, and unless things had changed drastically in the past decade, she would receive a polite welcome. She would have to be cautious, however. If she remembered correctly, the Vistani in this part of the land worshipped Strahd as a deity. Her mother had warned her about them.
All Vistani respect Count Strahd, she had said when Ezmerelda asked her about it. Legend has it that one of our clans saved his life when he was human. In return, when his enemies fell on us like dogs for helping him, he fought to defend us. The difference is that us Eastern clans respect the man he once was, while the Western clans think of him as a god. They worship him. Their faith can make them dangerous and unpredictable, so always watch yourself around them, okay, little one?
On a dry day, it only would have taken her ten minutes to get to the dusk elf village using the network of trails around the town, but as it was, it took nearly thirty. Fate's hooves sucked at the mud, making her move slower. On top of that, the wagon repeatedly got stuck in slimy, muddy ruts and she had to stop and push it out. By the time she saw firelight and smelled smoke rising through the trees, she was covered in thick, oily mud and she was in an extremely bad mood. What's more, she smelled vaguely like horse shit.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle as she emerged into a clearing in the trees with a small hill at the center of it. Built into the dirt of the hill were small huts, spaced evenly around the mound and going around to the back as well. There was smoke rising from the chimneys. On the top of the hill was a large Vistani tent, lit from within by firelight, with the sound of laughing and talking from within. Around the crown of the hill were several Vistani wagons. The smell of cooking meat wafted down from the hill, making Ezmerelda's mouth water.
As she approached the hill, she saw a dark-cloaked figure standing on the trail, barring her way. She called out a greeting as she came nearer.
"Hello, friend. I am a traveler looking for shelter. May I pass?"
"You drive a Vistani wagon. You a Vistana?" he replied.
"I am. Give me your name, friend, and I'll give you mine."
He pushed back his hood, revealing dusky brown skin, long, straight black hair, chiseled cheekbones, and pointed ears protruding from his hair. A dusk elf, then.
"I am called Alistaire Strigov. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"The pleasure is all mine," she replied. "My name is Ezmerelda D'Avenir."
"The leaders of this clan are in the tent at the top of the hill. Make your presence known to them. I wish you good luck." He bowed courteously, moving off the trail to let her pass. She nodded to him and began up the hill. Parking her wagon outside the main tent, she made a half hearted attempt to clean some of the mud off her before giving up and heading inside.
The tent was worm and smokey on the inside. A fire blazed in the middle, meat roasting on a spit over it, with men sitting around it, passing around wineskins and laughing. Laughing the hardest was a large man seated in a chair across from the entrance. He was clean-shaven, with black hair cut short and pushed out of his face. He had a square chin, a strong jawline, and a thick neck. His face was bright red, and she could see beads of sweat on his forehead and running down his cheeks. He had a woman sitting on his lap, one meaty hand clutching her right breast, the other holding a wineskin.
As she entered, his eyes flicked to her face, then roved greedily over the rest of her, lingering on her chest, and she fought the urge to pull out her rapier and teach him a lesson. She decided she didn't like this man.
"Greetings, friends," she said loudly, the tent quieting at her voice. "I have traveled long, and I wish to stay in your camp. Will you grant me permission?"
The man in the chair stood up, moving the woman off of his lap, giving her a quick pinch on the ass as he did so.
"I'm Luvash, and this is my brother Arrigal," he said, gesturing to the man on his right, who stood up as well. He had long, wavy hair, an angular face, and a pointed beard and mustache. At first glance, Ezmerelda didn't see a resemblance between them, but looking closer, she saw that they had the same slightly hooked nose and black eyes. Arrigal had a slight smile on his face.
"Greetings to you, my lady," he said with a small bow. "I see you have had a long journey. You are, of course, welcome to find a place for your wagon and stay here for as long as you like. As my brother has given you our names, might you favor us with yours?"
She looked at him, slightly suspicious. This one seemed kinder than his brother, but there was something dangerous about him. While Luvash gave her the impression of a large mace, Arrigal seemed more like a wickedly sharp dagger, less intimidating but far more deadly. Finally, she decided it could do no harm, and answered, "I am called Ezmerelda."
Luvash sat back down with his woman and began groping between her legs, apparently satisfied with the matter, but Arrigal remained standing. He bowed again.
"It is quite a pleasure, Lady Ezmerelda," he said, moving around the fire to stand next to her. "I am glad you had a safe journey. Barovia can be quite dangerous for lone travelers, though I've never seen a Vistana traveling without their clan. I'm sure you have a good reason for it. You do look well equipped to deal with threats. You know how to use that sword?"
She nodded shortly, hand resting on the pommel of the weapon in question.
"Your name is very interesting," he continued with a smile. "Ezmerelda. I have heard rumors of a rogue Vistana with the same name. A monster hunter called Ezmerelda D'Avenir. I heard she turned her back on her family and willingly went into banishment, taking up a life of hunting. She must be a very brave person. You wouldn't happen to know her, would you?"
"I can't say I've had the pleasure," she said through gritted teeth. She should have known she would be recognized! It was a mistake to come here.
"Just as well," Arrigal said. "She is supposedly very dangerous. I wouldn't want to cross her in a dark alleyway. Although, on second thought, maybe I would. She is said to be very beautiful."
Ezmerelda just frowned.
"Well, I've kept you too long. The hour grows late, and I'm sure your journey has been tiring. Good night, my lady." He smiled, a dangerous curve of the lips that didn't reach the black depths of his eyes.
She stayed up late into the night, those pools of darkness filling her vision, and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
