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Ravenloft: A Gothic Horror Story

Fergus' Journal

Whoever or whatever is responsible for us being thrust in and out of each other’s memories had best pray it can reverse the process when we find it. Wandering through the woods we were, when all but the pigmentally-challenged one turned on me in confusion. Suddenly not a one of them had any recollection of who I was, or of any part I’d played in this damned journey, kinsman included. Even now my beard bristles just thinking about it. I swear Grant was this close to getting a gauntlet upside his head when he said he couldn’t even recall his uncle.

Needless to say, suspicions were raised, and I had to fight for my right to stay with the group, though I seemed to have no luck assuaging their mistrust, which I can still feel with each interaction. After a short continuation down the wooded path we were on, Wyun showed up, having seemingly made himself scarce shortly before the memory incident, and we came across a long abandoned graveyard.

Koreks had tasked us with finding companions of his within an old mausoleum there, that we determined to be empty, save for a tear in reality itself. Of course, we didn’t realize it was there, until we removed the spellbound stone plug that was keeping it in check, and my cousin stepped into the archway out disappeared.

We all followed suit and found ourselves in a similar, but much more frequently utilized graveyard, though we didn’t find ourselves alone. At one end of the yard, there was an old broken skeleton, unable to move under the weight and restriction of his shattered armor. We later found out that he was Koreks’ sorcerer, who had decided that rather than let his bloodline be abandoned to the ages, their souls consumed for lack of proper prayer and consideration, he would damn them for eternity in a different way by trapping them inside the belly of a 5 headed rotting monstrosity that sat in the middle of the field.

The beast, it’s necks sprouting from a round, bloated torso that quivered with the impotent rage of spirits trying to escape, came for us. Dristanya and I flanked it, and made short work of it’s festering body. Having it’s skeleton twisted and shattered, however, didn’t concern it in the slightest. A putrid fog wafted forth from it’s cavernous insides, and prompted each of the undead it touched into action.

Unfortunately, it seemed that no matter how thoroughly the creature was pulped, it was unwilling to go down. It’s minions, it turned out, played a double role. When it could reach one, it would snap one of it’s heads down and chew the soul back out of their undead bodies, renewing it’s strength and regenerating it’s wounds. I prayed to Ezra throughout the melee, both for assistance in ridding the world of the abomination, and also to sanctify the clearly tainted graveyard we were in. It is my belief that she heard me, as any doubts I’d held about channeling her blessing through me in favor of meting out her wrath directly dissipated. It seemed that Dristanya had received similar enlightenment from her deity, as we both broke simultaneously to either side of the field, and invoked an all encompassing burst of light that permanently sent the souls of each of the departed to their chosen afterlife, with their enslaver following shortly after.

The fleshless Sorcerer was still incapable of movement beyond the occasional twitch, though that didn’t stop him from striking out at Wyun after explaining his intent. Whatever he tried to do to my comrade, he was shattered before he could accomplish it. I will pray for his clan, though I fear his taint may have put them outside of salvation’s reach.

The magics binding that little realm faded, and the fog that had surrounded it closed up, sending us not back to the graveyard, but instead to the capital of Dementlieu. Lodging was found, and I spent the evening in prayer. I’m not sure what the morrow will bring, but so long as we get even one step closer to ending this mess and regaining full control of our memories, I shall welcome it.

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