To adventurers of some skill and renown, such as yourselves, what you see is but another quaint, roadside tavern.  However, the number of glances and gazes the party receives far exceeds what you are accustomed to. It's only fitting. You're only a day's ride south of Daggerford, on the Trade Way and it would seem word travels faster then you.

     You were sent south by the Duchess Morwen of Daggerford. Not but a week ago there was an attempted raid on the town. Thanks to your party, the raid was crushed and casualties were few. You were regarded as the heroes of the battle and invited to a feast with the Duchess during the week that followed.

     However, more problems had already arisen nearby. The duchess told you of an odd looking group of wayward travelers that had camped near the house walls and had started harassing towns-folk, demanding money and wine. They threatened to put hexes on villagers that didn't pay up, and the threats were not empty. The guard had chased them south, but merchants traveling along the route and the inns nearby had become their targets. Duchess Morwen turned to you for help. She trusted no hexes and charms would stop you from dealing with these vagabonds. 

     And so you find yourself at Dragonspear's Shaft tavern, nearby where the vagabonds had been spotted. As you're about to turn to one of the patrons who had been staring an especially long time, the tavern door swings open violently, and all the gazes and glances shift. Framed by a lamp-lit fog, a form strides through the doorway. His heavy, booted footfalls and the jingle of his coins accentuate his loud entry. His brightly colored clothes are draped and loose folds about him, and his hat hangs askew, hiding his eyes in shadows. Without hesitation, he walks up to your table and stands proudly in a wide stance with folded arms. His presence dominates the room.

(For more details about the events that led you all to this moment, check the Adventure log!)

Curse of Strahd

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