mickume/alt_dnd · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Seeing Dhamon switch from offense to defense, the rest of the group followed suit. Tallonon rushed over to Mason, muttering an incantation as he did. He reached out and clasped the other Half-Elf firmly on the shoulder, a silvery glow shimmered around the Priest for a moment. "I’m no god." he joked, "But, that should help protect you." Baasha continued to fire arrow after arrow at Strahd, this time aiming low on his legs to hamstring him.
Keening watched Tallonon in awe as he moved to Mason – so close to Strahd – to cast a spell on him. He elected to do the same, just not so close. He did his best to skirt the room, keeping as much distance possible between himself and the vampire so as not to lose his nerve. He circled around behind the large white bear, and plucked a few hairs from its hind quarters, hoping that she wouldn’t bite him too. In the heat of the battle though, Alleria didn’t even notice. When he reached Mason, he cowered behind him, whispering a magic word and sprinkling the bear fur on him. "I hope this still works." He said to Mason. A gold hued illusion of a bear seemed to rise from Mason’s head and shoulders before dissolving around him. He looked renewed, his surface wounds fading away.
There was an unnerving scraping sound that echoed through the room as Strahd managed to take another step, dragging the bear along with him, her claws digging into the stone floor. Inch by hard fought inch, the Vampire closed in on Strahd. In one hand, an out stretched longsword pointed in his direction, the other hand free and grasping wildly at the air. All the while, his exposed skin smoked and bubbled under the intensely bright light of the medallion.
Mason took another step back for good measure, withdrawing his arm slightly so that Strahd couldn’t knock the relic from his hand, should he get closer. "Die, foul creature." He called out as he hefted his shield up close for protection.
Layers of skin and flesh continued to fall off in chunks from the walking corpse. The bottom half of Strahd’s face was exposed to the bone, that too giving way to fall to the floor. His mouth, now just a gaping hole still managed to issue forth a blood curdling howl of anger and pain.
The bear lost her hold on him as the part of his neck she had gripped in her mouth gave way as well. The chunk of charred muscle was immediately spat out on the ground and were a bear able to look nauseous, Alleria would be wearing that expression at the moment.
"You will no longer torment the good people of this land!" Dhamon said, his voice firm and full of conviction. He drew the Sunsword once again, intent on finishing off the Curse of Barovia.
With Dhamon’s full weight no longer braced against him, and the bear’s maw no longer clutched around his neck, Strahd lunged forward. Though he was barely a being of flesh another blood any longer, he still had fight left in him. And magic. With his free hand, he pointed at Mason and despite the fact he no longer had a functioning mouth, managed to say: "Die!".
If it not been for the protection that Keening had placed on him, Mason would have likely perished before their eyes. Instead, he convulsed for a moment and screamed in agony. The Holy Symbol fell from his hand and rolled across the floor, coming to rest under a maroon velvet arm chair. The room immediately felt colder for it. Writhing in agony, Mason crumpled and fell silent, the pain too great for him to bear.
Seizing the moment to turn the tide, the Vampire Lord summoned reinforcements from inside the castle and its grounds. From somewhere outside, the muffled howl of wolves could be heard. Additionally, sounds of clawing and scraping echoed from the staircase. It was all Strahd managed as the group was upon him again.
"Don’t let him escape!" Baasha shouted before firing two more arrows at Strahd’s head. "He’ll heal!"
Dhamon sprang into action. "Torm guide my hand!" With the bright light of the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind extinguished, Dhamon called on the divine sunlight stored in his magic sword. Once again, the room was bathed in holy light.
Putting all their hopes on Dhamon now, the group rallied around him. Tallonon hasted him, while Keening inspired him with a song. Quintis did his best to wound Strahd from behind, distracting him with quick, sharp attacks.
Having no magics to add Dhamon, Alleria continued to fight Strahd tooth and claw, still in the form of the large white bear.
Knowing he needed to kill or at the very least, immobilize his foes. Strahd turned to Tallonon and shooting black tendrils from his hand, ensnared the dark-skinned warlock in a cocoon of twilight.
The Vampire Lord’s other half charred hand reached for Keening and he spoke the word, "Mine!" The Bard froze on the spot, his eyes glazing over and went vacant looking for a moment. He unslung his lute and began to sing a rallying song.
Normally they would have felt inspired, but this time it was Strahd that was bolstered by the Bard’s song. Still glass eyed and confused looking, Keening drew his short sword. Rather than attacking, he dragged the blade across his hand murmuring a magic word.
A dark red haze fell over Quintis, Dhamon and Baasha. It was subtle, but reminiscent of the magical effect of Valkur’s blessing Mason often called on.
"Good. Now kill your friend." Strahd ordered.
Keening raised his sword and advanced on Quintis. The musician was no match for the skilled duelist, but fending Keening off did keep Quintis preoccupied and out of the main fight.
Feeling the effects of the Bard’s song, Strahd doubled his efforts as well, parrying most of Dhamon’s attacks with ease. One of his strikes hit Dhamon’s shield so forcefully it drove the paladin back a few steps.
Strahd lunged forward to close the distance and tried to bite Dhamon on the neck. Lucky for him, his armor and helmet left little opening for the Vampire’s attack.
The sound of scraping and clawing was getting closer and closer until they were finally revealed. Spilling down the stairs, skeletons poured into the room. Strahd’s first wave of reinforcements had arrived.
Ignoring the chaos around him and focusing solely on Strahd, Dhamon pressed his attacks. So long as he struck with the Sunsword, Strahd couldn’t regenerate. Strahd matched Dhamon strike for strike. As Quintis was preoccupied with Keening and Baasha arrows were less than effective against reanimated bones, Alleria turned away from Strahd to fight his minions.
Outside the keep, the misty muted colors of dawn were starting to break. The physical signs of it might have not have been apparent to all, but Strahd could feel its approach. They had worked him into a corner, and he was getting desperate. He couldn’t turn to mist and feel, he couldn’t heal, his only hope was to kill them all. In only a handful of minutes. He tried to sway the Paladin again, but his will was too strong.
Dhamon’s attacks were fueled by the sweet feeling of impending victory. Strahd was showing clear signs of wearing down. His clothing was ripped and torn in multiple places, and blood has soaked through around the cuts. The white bear had the two remaining skeletons still fully preoccupied, and Baasha continued to pepper the Vampire Lord with holy arrows. Unlike Alleria, she seemed to miss more than a few shots, no doubt due to whatever magics Keening had used on them.
Quintis made the difficult decision that he had to overpower Keening and get back into the main fight. Jumping back from the Bard, Quintis picked up a nearby chair and bashed Keening hard across the back with it. Keening fell to the floor, unconscious. The red mist that clung to Dhamon, Baasha and Quintis dissipated. Strahd also looked far less – inspired.
From somewhere in the castle, perhaps the floor above them, came the howling of wolves. More of Strahd’s reinforcements were closing in.
Free to join the fight against their main foe once again, Quintis braced his foot against the chair he had knocked Keening out with and broke off one of its legs. He tucked it into his belt, just case they needed to impale Strahd in the heart to finish him off.
Alleria was down to a single skeleton, and Baasha, out of arrows had dropped her bow and moved to Tallonon to see if she could remove the magical bonds holding him in place. The bear’s scarred white fur was dotted with blood from the skeleton’s sharp boney fingers. Despite this, she decided to turn her back on the animated bones, to help Dhamon and Quintis with Strahd. She hoped it was focused enough on her that it would just to continue to claw away at her back.
The three of them closed in, forcing Strahd back until he was pressed up against his coffin. A look of rage and disbelief etched on his face. He tried again to take control of Dhamon’s mind, but failed. In desperation, he tried Quintis, and then the bear but found their Elven heritage too difficult to break through. He could hear his minions on the way, but was sure it would arrive too late.
He risked a counter attack, but Strahd made a gesture with his free hand and murmured a magic word. A blast of icy wind blew from his hand, knocking Dhamon and Quintis back, several feet away from him. The bear was not moved by the blast, holding firm in the face of the undead despot. She lunged forward to grab him in her toothy maw. In a similar quick movement, the Demon Strahd leaned in to bite the bear, his vampiric canine’s visible from behind his sneering lips. The shapeshifted druid’s bite was far more devastating, and when Strahd reeled back from his miss, most of his casting arm’s shoulder was left in the bear’s bloody jaws.
He screamed in pain, his eyes wild with disbelief and rage. Distracted by his wounds, Strahd didn’t notice Mason had regained consciousness and Baasha had managed to free Tallonon. He had sealed his own fate by knocking Dhamon and Quintis across the room. They were no longer in range of the column of divine fire that Mason dropped on top of the Scourge of Barovia. The fires hit Alleria as well, but Mason knew that at the worst the damage would only knock Alleria back into her natural form. When the pillar of fire finished falling from the sky, all that was left of the Devil Strahd was a charred husk. His clothing had likewise been burned away, as was most of his skin and hair.
"Is he dead?" Baasha asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"After that he sure should be." Mason replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
Alleria rolled over, coughing and wheezing. "I would have appreciated a little warning." She said in a dry, sarcastic tone.
Dhamon and Quintis helped each other to their feet, the former inhaling deeply as he looked down at the burnt corpse of Strahd. Baasha helped Tallonon to his feet and the went to check on Mason.
Quintis walked past Strahd, nudging the corpse with his foot before going to take care of Keening. "Mason, you have any healing left? I gave him quite the blow."
The howls of the wolves from within the castle had stopped when Strahd died.
"Aye, friend. I can fix him up. Just give me a moment or two. My head is still spinning like a whirlpool." Mason replied, from the floor, leaning against a bookcase.
Dhamon bent down to retrieve his sword and shield, stowing them back in place on his persons. Alleria, with the help of a steady, high backed arm chair, pushed herself to her feet. "I cannot remember the last time I felt so relieved."
Baasha nodded her head in agreement and started collecting any salvageable arrows that were spared from the fire. "Praise Valkur for that holy fire." She said, sparing a glance at the corpse.
Feeling only slightly worse for wear, Alleria went to Strahd’s charred corpse. There was nothing left of his grand outfit. She had planned on searching him for the vial of memories, but nothing had survived to search. The irony of Mason possibly destroying his own memories was lost on Alleria. Without telling the others why, she started a thorough search of the room. Quintis, seeing Alleria searching, assumed it was time for his second favorite part of the fight – looting.
The room had an endless number of places to hide a tiny glass vial. Bookcases, desk, coffin and end tables. And this was just one of the many possible hundreds of rooms in the Castle.
There was no doubt Quintis was extremely skilled at what he did, and thus no surprise that he was the one to find the hidden compartment in Strahd’s writing desk.
The low appreciative whistle he made signaled to Alleria that he had found something interesting. She went over to him, peering over his shoulder to check out his find. There, amongst his tokens and trophies, was the tiny jar of silvery liquid. Thinking it just a potion, Quintis had over looked it.
"I will take that one, if you have no objections." She said, reaching past the Rogue to snatched Mason’s memories.
Keening had been tended to and was back on his feet, asking a dozen questions about what exactly had transpired. Tallonon had turned his attention you the walls of books, having already selected several and stowed them in his pack.
Baasha went to the staircase and looked up. "Is no one else not dying to see if the mists have really lifted?" She asked with a slight smile.
Mason joined the brown-haired huntress at the bottom of the stairs, chuckling. "Aye. Let’s go see if we are truly free to return home." He places his arm around her waist and started up the stairs.
One by one, the rest followed up the stairs, relieved to be done with this place.
With Strahd dead, the curse upon the land of Barovia had been lifted. The sky was brighter it had been their entire time there and it was only just over the horizon in the East. If it weren’t for the creepy castle behind them, they could have been back in Faerun already.
Alleria had several opportunities to give Mason back his memories, on the walk back to the Gates. She wanted to have another discussion with Mason about all that happened. Something to soften the blow.
It hadn’t even crossed her mind that he might not want them back. That his negative feelings towards Elves might stop him from even taking them from her. In the end, Alleria debated and delayed right up to the Gates.
Her chance to win Mason back slipped through her fingers before she even realized it was happening. Mason was so eager to return home, he did so without so much as a good bye to Barovia. Dhamon, Quintis and Keening all passed through next. When it was Baasha’s turn, caught her by the arm.
"In case we do not all wind up together on the other side. Would you please see that Mason gets this." she put the vial in Baasha’s hand and closed her fingers around it protectively.
"Whatever that is, it’s giving off a blinding magic aura." Tallonon said as her peered intently at Baasha’s clasped hand.
"It’s Mason’s memories. Strahd kept them, so I took them. I was not quite sure how to broach the subject with him. Please see that he gets them, so he can decide for himself."
"May your gods keep you." Alleria added, to both Baasha and Tallonon, before stepping through the Gates and out of sight.
It had been over one hundred years since Alleria left Barovia. She had, like the others in the group, passed through the mystical gates and been returned to Toril. She had not been taken by the Mists together and thus Alleria was returned to the Dalelands, alone. She had tried her best to put the events out of her mind. It had taken nearly a decade, little time to an elf, to track down Mason. He had settled down in Daggerford with Baasha and made a life for themselves. They had one small child, a son and Baasha had another on the way.
Alleria had no idea what became of the vial of memories. She assumed, at first, that Mason at the very least must not have opened them. Only after a long moment did it occur to her that perhaps Masons feelings for Baasha were stronger than those he had for her. Perhaps he still felt that strong negativity towards Elves.
Stubborn and unwilling to give up, the Elf Druid planted a tree on the edge of their homestead. She instructed the oak to watch over Mason and his family. To keep her informed about their lives. The oak had grown talk and strong, an elder among the local flora. It had called to her across the Green; there was trouble. So here she was, one hundred and fourteen years later, back in Daggerford.
In the guise of a raven, she landed on the sill of an open window. Inside the small cottage, Mason laid in bed, surrounded by his many generations of his family. Baasha was not there. She had been human after all, and had passed decades earlier. The oak had informed Alleria, but she hadn’t gone then. The pain would have still been too fresh, the betrayal still too much. But now, with Mason on his deathbed, she had to return.
The large black bird hopped off the skill and fluttered to the foot of the old man’s bed. "Mason?’ She reached out to his mind, testing to see if the link was still there. Hoping that at some point, he had found his lost memories. But, sadly, no response came. Not caring about appearing overly dramatic, she hopped down off the bed and shapeshifted back to her Elven self.
There were startled cries from Mason’s clan, but he himself showed no outward sign of shock.
"My eyes aren’t the best, but you haven’t changed a bit." He said, softly, his voice a pale version of the one she had known.
"You...you look so old." Alleria said with a touch of sadness. All the lost years stabbed at her heart. All that could have been but wasn’t. She cursed her petty anger that had kept her away, the hurt that had made her not stay and fight for him. Her anger came out as bluntness, to an extreme degree even for an Elf.
"Baasha, she did not give you the vial containing your memories then? I gave them to her. You left Barovia before I could give them to you directly." Her tone was curt.
"My memories" No..." Confusion was etched on his face. He looked to his family around him, his children, grandchildren and even a host of great grandchildren. They were all a result of his relationship with Baasha. His loving wife. The woman who had kept a secret from him all those years.
"Leave us, please." He said with no further response to their confused looking faces. Only his eldest son lingered. "If you’re expecting me to be upset, or angry, you’re mistaken, Alleria. Baasha gave me a good many great years and a loving family. Something you would not have."
"You are correct." Alleria said with a brusque nod. She was keeping her distance from his bed, from him. Folding her arms across her chest, unconsciously, she stayed firmly planted a few feet from him. Her face was dispassionate, doing her best to hide the emotional conflict brewing in her belly. "But, I loved you and you must excuse me if I feel a little cheated. I do not know what sort of life we would have had together, but whatever it would have been, it was stolen from us. Twice."
"Father." Mason’s full grown son, far much older than he would have been when he met Alleria, spoke up. He was likewise dark haired, but betrayed barely a hint of the Elven heritage from Mason’s side. "I think I know what the Elf speaks of." He left the bedroom for a long moment, returning with a small velvet pouch. "I found this once, as a child. Mother scolded me soundly and re-hid it." He offered them both a slight grin that Alleria recognized immediately. "She wasn’t very good at such things though, and I found it again a few years later."
He crossed the room and handed the small purse to his father. "I asked her about it later, as an adult and she told me of Barovia and Strahd. And, your stolen memories. She never confided in me exactly why she left them all this time, but after seeing you together for, can only assume it was out of love." With that explained, his son left the room to join the rest of the Carpenter Clan outside.
Alleria sighed deeply, her arms at her chest going even more rigid. She wanted to be selfish and scream about the injustice of it all. For Strahd to have imposed his will on her, resting control of her future away, it galled and infuriated her. This impassioned fury was tempered only by the love she had felt for Mason. It kept her from an outburst. Mason had been a catch: handsome, funny, brave and kind. She couldn’t fault Baasha for feeling the same way she had.
Mason opened the pouch and emptied the small vial into his hand. He stared at it for a long moment. "Balen, will you leave us, please." He son nodded and slipped from the room.
Alleria eyed the vial. "What will you do with them now? You are an old man; your life is almost at an end." She did her best to stem the bitterness that was creeping into her voice.
"I don’t want to dishonor Baasha’s memory." Mason finally admitted with a deep sigh of his own. The full scope of what had just been revealed was still sinking in.
"I understand. We shared only a few nights together, Mason, but it was enough for me to have fallen in love with you. Enough for you as well. Otherwise, Strahd would not have done what he did. I will treasure what we had, but will not ask you for more." The words were forced, and the last sounding less than convincing. She looked away, not wanting him to see her expression.
"Will you grant an old...friend...one request?" The frail Half-Elf asked.
"Anything, Mason." And this time words rang true.
"Will you change me into a wolf again?" His voice was hopeful.
"How? You should not have that memory." She turned to look back at him, her expression one of confusion.
"I don’t. But, apparently, I shared it with others before Strahd took them from me. Baasha retold me many years ago. I think I would like to run like that one more time, before I am done." He explained.
While Mason may have given up adventuring when he settled down with Baasha, Alleria had not. She had been barely a novice when she first met Mason. But now, she was a full-fledged Archdruid. Mason’s request was a simple one. She could do that for him, and so much more.
Her gaze lingered for a long moment on the vial in his hand. What she wanted was a trade, but that hardly seemed fair or moral. Irritation bubbling to the surface again, she replied, "Curious that she should share that detail, but not others."
"I’m sure she had her reasons." Mason said softly.
"Her reason was that she was worried you would have picked me, over her. She trapped you, Mason, took away your right to choose, just as Strahd did. Why do you not see that?" Irritation had turned to annoyance as she grew impatient with the line of discussion.
"What does it matter now, Alleria?" A hint of pain rippled across his age lined face.
"It matters because I feel cheated and I am entitled to feel such."
"Then why did you wait all these years to make your case? Why wait until I am at death’s door?"
"By the time I found you, you already had a life with Baasha. You had the children I would not give you, the wife I could not be. I was angry with Baasha, because I had assumed – correctly – that she had not given you your memories back. Angry with myself for taking so long to find you. But mostly, for wasting so much time in delaying with your memories in Barovia, for not giving them to you myself." She admitted, pacing the small bedroom as she unloaded all that she had kept locked away for the last century.
"What was I supposed to do at that point, Mason? Go back and kill Strahd again? Go cry on his corpse about how unfair what he did was?" she added as she turned to look at him once more.
"You have another, what? Four-five hundred years still ahead of you, Alleria. You will find other loves."
"You are undoubtedly right, but..."
"But you are a stubborn Elf and couldn’t leave it be?" he finished her sentence for her.
She couldn’t help but smile. "You are probably right, again."
"What do you want, Alleria? What, in the little time I have left, do I need to do to put your sense of injustice to rest?"
"Remember me, remember your feelings for me. I am not asking you to erase the joy of your family, only to honor what could have been, with me." She would not let it go.
"Even with the passionate case you make, I still find it a little hard to swallow. I told you my feelings about a romantic liaison with an Elf."
"Mason, would I be making such a fuss if what I were saying was not true."

Seeing Dhamon switch from offense to defense, the rest of the group followed suit. Tallonon rushed over to Mason, muttering an incantation as he did. He reached out and clasped the other Half-Elf firmly on the shoulder, a silvery glow shimmered around the Priest for a moment. "I’m no god." he joked, "But, that should help protect you." Baasha continued to fire arrow after arrow at Strahd, this time aiming low on his legs to hamstring him.

Keening watched Tallonon in awe as he moved to Mason – so close to Strahd – to cast a spell on him. He elected to do the same, just not so close. He did his best to skirt the room, keeping as much distance possible between himself and the vampire so as not to lose his nerve. He circled around behind the large white bear, and plucked a few hairs from its hind quarters, hoping that she wouldn’t bite him too. In the heat of the battle though, Alleria didn’t even notice. When he reached Mason, he cowered behind him, whispering a magic word and sprinkling the bear fur on him. "I hope this still works." He said to Mason. A gold hued illusion of a bear seemed to rise from Mason’s head and shoulders before dissolving around him. He looked renewed, his surface wounds fading away.

There was an unnerving scraping sound that echoed through the room as Strahd managed to take another step, dragging the bear along with him, her claws digging into the stone floor. Inch by hard fought inch, the Vampire closed in on Strahd. In one hand, an out stretched longsword pointed in his direction, the other hand free and grasping wildly at the air. All the while, his exposed skin smoked and bubbled under the intensely bright light of the medallion.

Mason took another step back for good measure, withdrawing his arm slightly so that Strahd couldn’t knock the relic from his hand, should he get closer. "Die, foul creature." He called out as he hefted his shield up close for protection.

Layers of skin and flesh continued to fall off in chunks from the walking corpse. The bottom half of Strahd’s face was exposed to the bone, that too giving way to fall to the floor. His mouth, now just a gaping hole still managed to issue forth a blood curdling howl of anger and pain.

The bear lost her hold on him as the part of his neck she had gripped in her mouth gave way as well. The chunk of charred muscle was immediately spat out on the ground and were a bear able to look nauseous, Alleria would be wearing that expression at the moment.

"You will no longer torment the good people of this land!" Dhamon said, his voice firm and full of conviction. He drew the Sunsword once again, intent on finishing off the Curse of Barovia.

With Dhamon’s full weight no longer braced against him, and the bear’s maw no longer clutched around his neck, Strahd lunged forward. Though he was barely a being of flesh another blood any longer, he still had fight left in him. And magic. With his free hand, he pointed at Mason and despite the fact he no longer had a functioning mouth, managed to say: "Die!".

If it not been for the protection that Keening had placed on him, Mason would have likely perished before their eyes. Instead, he convulsed for a moment and screamed in agony. The Holy Symbol fell from his hand and rolled across the floor, coming to rest under a maroon velvet arm chair. The room immediately felt colder for it. Writhing in agony, Mason crumpled and fell silent, the pain too great for him to bear.

Seizing the moment to turn the tide, the Vampire Lord summoned reinforcements from inside the castle and its grounds. From somewhere outside, the muffled howl of wolves could be heard. Additionally, sounds of clawing and scraping echoed from the staircase. It was all Strahd managed as the group was upon him again.

"Don’t let him escape!" Baasha shouted before firing two more arrows at Strahd’s head. "He’ll heal!"

Dhamon sprang into action. "Torm guide my hand!" With the bright light of the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind extinguished, Dhamon called on the divine sunlight stored in his magic sword. Once again, the room was bathed in holy light.

Putting all their hopes on Dhamon now, the group rallied around him. Tallonon hasted him, while Keening inspired him with a song. Quintis did his best to wound Strahd from behind, distracting him with quick, sharp attacks.

Having no magics to add Dhamon, Alleria continued to fight Strahd tooth and claw, still in the form of the large white bear.

Knowing he needed to kill or at the very least, immobilize his foes. Strahd turned to Tallonon and shooting black tendrils from his hand, ensnared the dark-skinned warlock in a cocoon of twilight.

The Vampire Lord’s other half charred hand reached for Keening and he spoke the word, "Mine!" The Bard froze on the spot, his eyes glazing over and went vacant looking for a moment. He unslung his lute and began to sing a rallying song.

Normally they would have felt inspired, but this time it was Strahd that was bolstered by the Bard’s song. Still glass eyed and confused looking, Keening drew his short sword. Rather than attacking, he dragged the blade across his hand murmuring a magic word.

A dark red haze fell over Quintis, Dhamon and Baasha. It was subtle, but reminiscent of the magical effect of Valkur’s blessing Mason often called on.

"Good. Now kill your friend." Strahd ordered.

Keening raised his sword and advanced on Quintis. The musician was no match for the skilled duelist, but fending Keening off did keep Quintis preoccupied and out of the main fight.

Feeling the effects of the Bard’s song, Strahd doubled his efforts as well, parrying most of Dhamon’s attacks with ease. One of his strikes hit Dhamon’s shield so forcefully it drove the paladin back a few steps.

Strahd lunged forward to close the distance and tried to bite Dhamon on the neck. Lucky for him, his armor and helmet left little opening for the Vampire’s attack.

The sound of scraping and clawing was getting closer and closer until they were finally revealed. Spilling down the stairs, skeletons poured into the room. Strahd’s first wave of reinforcements had arrived.

Ignoring the chaos around him and focusing solely on Strahd, Dhamon pressed his attacks. So long as he struck with the Sunsword, Strahd couldn’t regenerate. Strahd matched Dhamon strike for strike. As Quintis was preoccupied with Keening and Baasha arrows were less than effective against reanimated bones, Alleria turned away from Strahd to fight his minions.

Outside the keep, the misty muted colors of dawn were starting to break. The physical signs of it might have not have been apparent to all, but Strahd could feel its approach. They had worked him into a corner, and he was getting desperate. He couldn’t turn to mist and feel, he couldn’t heal, his only hope was to kill them all. In only a handful of minutes. He tried to sway the Paladin again, but his will was too strong.

Dhamon’s attacks were fueled by the sweet feeling of impending victory. Strahd was showing clear signs of wearing down. His clothing was ripped and torn in multiple places, and blood has soaked through around the cuts. The white bear had the two remaining skeletons still fully preoccupied, and Baasha continued to pepper the Vampire Lord with holy arrows. Unlike Alleria, she seemed to miss more than a few shots, no doubt due to whatever magics Keening had used on them.

Quintis made the difficult decision that he had to overpower Keening and get back into the main fight. Jumping back from the Bard, Quintis picked up a nearby chair and bashed Keening hard across the back with it. Keening fell to the floor, unconscious. The red mist that clung to Dhamon, Baasha and Quintis dissipated. Strahd also looked far less – inspired.

From somewhere in the castle, perhaps the floor above them, came the howling of wolves. More of Strahd’s reinforcements were closing in.

Free to join the fight against their main foe once again, Quintis braced his foot against the chair he had knocked Keening out with and broke off one of its legs. He tucked it into his belt, just case they needed to impale Strahd in the heart to finish him off.

Alleria was down to a single skeleton, and Baasha, out of arrows had dropped her bow and moved to Tallonon to see if she could remove the magical bonds holding him in place. The bear’s scarred white fur was dotted with blood from the skeleton’s sharp boney fingers. Despite this, she decided to turn her back on the animated bones, to help Dhamon and Quintis with Strahd. She hoped it was focused enough on her that it would just to continue to claw away at her back.

The three of them closed in, forcing Strahd back until he was pressed up against his coffin. A look of rage and disbelief etched on his face. He tried again to take control of Dhamon’s mind, but failed. In desperation, he tried Quintis, and then the bear but found their Elven heritage too difficult to break through. He could hear his minions on the way, but was sure it would arrive too late.

He risked a counter attack, but Strahd made a gesture with his free hand and murmured a magic word. A blast of icy wind blew from his hand, knocking Dhamon and Quintis back, several feet away from him. The bear was not moved by the blast, holding firm in the face of the undead despot. She lunged forward to grab him in her toothy maw. In a similar quick movement, the Demon Strahd leaned in to bite the bear, his vampiric canine’s visible from behind his sneering lips. The shapeshifted druid’s bite was far more devastating, and when Strahd reeled back from his miss, most of his casting arm’s shoulder was left in the bear’s bloody jaws.

He screamed in pain, his eyes wild with disbelief and rage. Distracted by his wounds, Strahd didn’t notice Mason had regained consciousness and Baasha had managed to free Tallonon. He had sealed his own fate by knocking Dhamon and Quintis across the room. They were no longer in range of the column of divine fire that Mason dropped on top of the Scourge of Barovia. The fires hit Alleria as well, but Mason knew that at the worst the damage would only knock Alleria back into her natural form. When the pillar of fire finished falling from the sky, all that was left of the Devil Strahd was a charred husk. His clothing had likewise been burned away, as was most of his skin and hair.

"Is he dead?" Baasha asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"After that he sure should be." Mason replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Alleria rolled over, coughing and wheezing. "I would have appreciated a little warning." She said in a dry, sarcastic tone.

Dhamon and Quintis helped each other to their feet, the former inhaling deeply as he looked down at the burnt corpse of Strahd. Baasha helped Tallonon to his feet and the went to check on Mason.

Quintis walked past Strahd, nudging the corpse with his foot before going to take care of Keening. "Mason, you have any healing left? I gave him quite the blow."

The howls of the wolves from within the castle had stopped when Strahd died.

"Aye, friend. I can fix him up. Just give me a moment or two. My head is still spinning like a whirlpool." Mason replied, from the floor, leaning against a bookcase.

Dhamon bent down to retrieve his sword and shield, stowing them back in place on his persons. Alleria, with the help of a steady, high backed arm chair, pushed herself to her feet. "I cannot remember the last time I felt so relieved."

Baasha nodded her head in agreement and started collecting any salvageable arrows that were spared from the fire. "Praise Valkur for that holy fire." She said, sparing a glance at the corpse.

Feeling only slightly worse for wear, Alleria went to Strahd’s charred corpse. There was nothing left of his grand outfit. She had planned on searching him for the vial of memories, but nothing had survived to search. The irony of Mason possibly destroying his own memories was lost on Alleria. Without telling the others why, she started a thorough search of the room. Quintis, seeing Alleria searching, assumed it was time for his second favorite part of the fight – looting.

The room had an endless number of places to hide a tiny glass vial. Bookcases, desk, coffin and end tables. And this was just one of the many possible hundreds of rooms in the Castle.

There was no doubt Quintis was extremely skilled at what he did, and thus no surprise that he was the one to find the hidden compartment in Strahd’s writing desk.

The low appreciative whistle he made signaled to Alleria that he had found something interesting. She went over to him, peering over his shoulder to check out his find. There, amongst his tokens and trophies, was the tiny jar of silvery liquid. Thinking it just a potion, Quintis had over looked it.

"I will take that one, if you have no objections." She said, reaching past the Rogue to snatched Mason’s memories.

Keening had been tended to and was back on his feet, asking a dozen questions about what exactly had transpired. Tallonon had turned his attention you the walls of books, having already selected several and stowed them in his pack.

Baasha went to the staircase and looked up. "Is no one else not dying to see if the mists have really lifted?" She asked with a slight smile.

Mason joined the brown-haired huntress at the bottom of the stairs, chuckling. "Aye. Let’s go see if we are truly free to return home." He places his arm around her waist and started up the stairs.

One by one, the rest followed up the stairs, relieved to be done with this place.

With Strahd dead, the curse upon the land of Barovia had been lifted. The sky was brighter it had been their entire time there and it was only just over the horizon in the East. If it weren’t for the creepy castle behind them, they could have been back in Faerun already.

Alleria had several opportunities to give Mason back his memories, on the walk back to the Gates. She wanted to have another discussion with Mason about all that happened. Something to soften the blow.

It hadn’t even crossed her mind that he might not want them back. That his negative feelings towards Elves might stop him from even taking them from her. In the end, Alleria debated and delayed right up to the Gates.

Her chance to win Mason back slipped through her fingers before she even realized it was happening. Mason was so eager to return home, he did so without so much as a good bye to Barovia. Dhamon, Quintis and Keening all passed through next. When it was Baasha’s turn, caught her by the arm.

"In case we do not all wind up together on the other side. Would you please see that Mason gets this." she put the vial in Baasha’s hand and closed her fingers around it protectively.

"Whatever that is, it’s giving off a blinding magic aura." Tallonon said as her peered intently at Baasha’s clasped hand.

"It’s Mason’s memories. Strahd kept them, so I took them. I was not quite sure how to broach the subject with him. Please see that he gets them, so he can decide for himself."

"May your gods keep you." Alleria added, to both Baasha and Tallonon, before stepping through the Gates and out of sight.

It had been over one hundred years since Alleria left Barovia. She had, like the others in the group, passed through the mystical gates and been returned to Toril. She had not been taken by the Mists together and thus Alleria was returned to the Dalelands, alone. She had tried her best to put the events out of her mind. It had taken nearly a decade, little time to an elf, to track down Mason. He had settled down in Daggerford with Baasha and made a life for themselves. They had one small child, a son and Baasha had another on the way.

Alleria had no idea what became of the vial of memories. She assumed, at first, that Mason at the very least must not have opened them. Only after a long moment did it occur to her that perhaps Masons feelings for Baasha were stronger than those he had for her. Perhaps he still felt that strong negativity towards Elves.

Stubborn and unwilling to give up, the Elf Druid planted a tree on the edge of their homestead. She instructed the oak to watch over Mason and his family. To keep her informed about their lives. The oak had grown talk and strong, an elder among the local flora. It had called to her across the Green; there was trouble. So here she was, one hundred and fourteen years later, back in Daggerford.

In the guise of a raven, she landed on the sill of an open window. Inside the small cottage, Mason laid in bed, surrounded by his many generations of his family. Baasha was not there. She had been human after all, and had passed decades earlier. The oak had informed Alleria, but she hadn’t gone then. The pain would have still been too fresh, the betrayal still too much. But now, with Mason on his deathbed, she had to return.

The large black bird hopped off the skill and fluttered to the foot of the old man’s bed. "Mason?’ She reached out to his mind, testing to see if the link was still there. Hoping that at some point, he had found his lost memories. But, sadly, no response came. Not caring about appearing overly dramatic, she hopped down off the bed and shapeshifted back to her Elven self.

There were startled cries from Mason’s clan, but he himself showed no outward sign of shock.

"My eyes aren’t the best, but you haven’t changed a bit." He said, softly, his voice a pale version of the one she had known.

"You...you look so old." Alleria said with a touch of sadness. All the lost years stabbed at her heart. All that could have been but wasn’t. She cursed her petty anger that had kept her away, the hurt that had made her not stay and fight for him. Her anger came out as bluntness, to an extreme degree even for an Elf.

"Baasha, she did not give you the vial containing your memories then? I gave them to her. You left Barovia before I could give them to you directly." Her tone was curt.

"My memories" No..." Confusion was etched on his face. He looked to his family around him, his children, grandchildren and even a host of great grandchildren. They were all a result of his relationship with Baasha. His loving wife. The woman who had kept a secret from him all those years.

"Leave us, please." He said with no further response to their confused looking faces. Only his eldest son lingered. "If you’re expecting me to be upset, or angry, you’re mistaken, Alleria. Baasha gave me a good many great years and a loving family. Something you would not have."

"You are correct." Alleria said with a brusque nod. She was keeping her distance from his bed, from him. Folding her arms across her chest, unconsciously, she stayed firmly planted a few feet from him. Her face was dispassionate, doing her best to hide the emotional conflict brewing in her belly. "But, I loved you and you must excuse me if I feel a little cheated. I do not know what sort of life we would have had together, but whatever it would have been, it was stolen from us. Twice."

"Father." Mason’s full grown son, far much older than he would have been when he met Alleria, spoke up. He was likewise dark haired, but betrayed barely a hint of the Elven heritage from Mason’s side. "I think I know what the Elf speaks of." He left the bedroom for a long moment, returning with a small velvet pouch. "I found this once, as a child. Mother scolded me soundly and re-hid it." He offered them both a slight grin that Alleria recognized immediately. "She wasn’t very good at such things though, and I found it again a few years later."

He crossed the room and handed the small purse to his father. "I asked her about it later, as an adult and she told me of Barovia and Strahd. And, your stolen memories. She never confided in me exactly why she left them all this time, but after seeing you together for, can only assume it was out of love." With that explained, his son left the room to join the rest of the Carpenter Clan outside.

Alleria sighed deeply, her arms at her chest going even more rigid. She wanted to be selfish and scream about the injustice of it all. For Strahd to have imposed his will on her, resting control of her future away, it galled and infuriated her. This impassioned fury was tempered only by the love she had felt for Mason. It kept her from an outburst. Mason had been a catch: handsome, funny, brave and kind. She couldn’t fault Baasha for feeling the same way she had.

Mason opened the pouch and emptied the small vial into his hand. He stared at it for a long moment. "Balen, will you leave us, please." He son nodded and slipped from the room.

Alleria eyed the vial. "What will you do with them now? You are an old man; your life is almost at an end." She did her best to stem the bitterness that was creeping into her voice.

"I don’t want to dishonor Baasha’s memory." Mason finally admitted with a deep sigh of his own. The full scope of what had just been revealed was still sinking in.

"I understand. We shared only a few nights together, Mason, but it was enough for me to have fallen in love with you. Enough for you as well. Otherwise, Strahd would not have done what he did. I will treasure what we had, but will not ask you for more." The words were forced, and the last sounding less than convincing. She looked away, not wanting him to see her expression.

"Will you grant an old...friend...one request?" The frail Half-Elf asked.

"Anything, Mason." And this time words rang true.

"Will you change me into a wolf again?" His voice was hopeful.

"How? You should not have that memory." She turned to look back at him, her expression one of confusion.

"I don’t. But, apparently, I shared it with others before Strahd took them from me. Baasha retold me many years ago. I think I would like to run like that one more time, before I am done." He explained.

While Mason may have given up adventuring when he settled down with Baasha, Alleria had not. She had been barely a novice when she first met Mason. But now, she was a full-fledged Archdruid. Mason’s request was a simple one. She could do that for him, and so much more.

Her gaze lingered for a long moment on the vial in his hand. What she wanted was a trade, but that hardly seemed fair or moral. Irritation bubbling to the surface again, she replied, "Curious that she should share that detail, but not others."

"I’m sure she had her reasons." Mason said softly.

"Her reason was that she was worried you would have picked me, over her. She trapped you, Mason, took away your right to choose, just as Strahd did. Why do you not see that?" Irritation had turned to annoyance as she grew impatient with the line of discussion.

"What does it matter now, Alleria?" A hint of pain rippled across his age lined face.

"It matters because I feel cheated and I am entitled to feel such."

"Then why did you wait all these years to make your case? Why wait until I am at death’s door?"

"By the time I found you, you already had a life with Baasha. You had the children I would not give you, the wife I could not be. I was angry with Baasha, because I had assumed – correctly – that she had not given you your memories back. Angry with myself for taking so long to find you. But mostly, for wasting so much time in delaying with your memories in Barovia, for not giving them to you myself." She admitted, pacing the small bedroom as she unloaded all that she had kept locked away for the last century.

"What was I supposed to do at that point, Mason? Go back and kill Strahd again? Go cry on his corpse about how unfair what he did was?" she added as she turned to look at him once more.

"You have another, what? Four-five hundred years still ahead of you, Alleria. You will find other loves."

"You are undoubtedly right, but..."

"But you are a stubborn Elf and couldn’t leave it be?" he finished her sentence for her.

She couldn’t help but smile. "You are probably right, again."

"What do you want, Alleria? What, in the little time I have left, do I need to do to put your sense of injustice to rest?"

"Remember me, remember your feelings for me. I am not asking you to erase the joy of your family, only to honor what could have been, with me." She would not let it go.

"Even with the passionate case you make, I still find it a little hard to swallow. I told you my feelings about a romantic liaison with an Elf."

"Mason, would I be making such a fuss if what I were saying was not true."