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Months had passed since the adventurers of Eibon entered the lands of Barovia, defeating the evil Lord of the lands, Strahd von Zarovich. The skies a clear blue, greenery growing back, the ground seemingly fertile enough for crops to sprout. Eventually the locals got back into a rhythm of rebuilding not only their towns but trade amongst one another. Life was.. nice.
However, storm clouds ominously rolled in across Barovian skies, slow, but like a thick blanket of oppressive grey. Then came the rain; not stopping for a week straight before easing into smaller drizzling storms a few days at a time. Surely this just had to be a fall spell. The blue skies would return! But then a week turned into two, then eventually into three. For many a Barovian, this didn’t bode well. It couldn’t! They’d gone months without a single sign of those dreaded storm clouds, blotting out the sun enough for their king to galavant around as he pleased! And yet here it was, the return of their original status quo of doom and gloom.
Though… miles away from the village of Barovia, deep in the woods, the sound of heavy gasping filled the air. Sure he didn’t need to breathe, but the action of reawakening after having died is still traumatic to one’s body, and especially so for one as exhausted as his. Strahd trembled as he sat up, his nerves firing back to back with new gusto; taking in his surroundings, he’d noticed he was in a deep wolf’s den. At least he could count on his children of the night , he thought. Gods above how his body ached with every move he made. Pulling himself together, the vampire lord carefully exited the den, his eyes aching at the white glare of the snow before him.
It must have taken him some time to reform after a successful death at the hand of an adventuring party, because not only did his body actually ache, he had little to no strength left. He needed to feed.
Clack krrrch krrch krrch crack
The echoes of an ax repeatedly hacking at a tree caught the vampire’s attention. What uncanny timing- perfect for him but a pity to the human gathering wood. With the stealth of a cat, Strahd kept close to the trees neighboring his unsuspecting prey. His hunger only grew the closer he drew himself to the human hunter; his vision fading at the edges as he only focused on his prize before him, the human’s heart beating steadily in his ears, his mouth almost salivating like a starved dog. Then with a swiftness, the vampire grabbed the man from behind, his arms holding the other man’s shoulders locked into place as he sank his teeth into his jugular, greedily gulping down blood. The woodsman struggled for just a moment, but a starving vampire was no fair fight, and within minutes not a single drop of blood was left behind.
Vision now returning with newfound clarity, Strahd panted hard as the fresh blood he’d drunk began to nourish his weakened form. Only then did the Lord of Barovia realize he was standing in shin deep snow, nude as the day he was born. The mists were often unkind to him, but this appeared to be a whole other level of embarrassment. With a heavy sigh he disrobed the now dead hunter, putting on the clothes and boots before following the hunter’s tracks back to a horse and wagon.
As much as he wanted to transform into a bat and take to the skies, his energy and strength still weren’t quite back to full capacity. So, the horse would do. Unhitching the wagon, Strahd mounted the horse and rode off in the general direction of his castle. As he continued his ride in silence, he tried his best at remembering the events that had gone down at the castle before his most recent death and resurrection. As frustrating as it was to not be able to recall anything, he did have to remind himself that it’d only been roughly half an hour since he’d come back to the land of the consciously aware; his senses seemingly muffled by his return. In all honesty, the Count lamented the fact the hunter had gone into the wilderness by himself. If only there was another, then that could have been a much more substantial meal. He thought, still feeling the need for more nourishment for his spent body. Such gluttony wasn’t something he’d thought he’d desire again, not since his earlier years of vampirism.
For a moment he glanced down at his mount, listening to the horse’s strong and steady heartbeat as it trotted through the snow capped forest, contemplating stupid thoughts; he knew damned well that the beasts of Barovia had a sickly taste to their blood, the very thought making his stomach churn in distaste. Shaking his intrusive thoughts for a moment, Strahd returned his tired gaze to his surroundings. Typically the forests of his lands were littered with thin, leafless, sickly looking trees with a few evergreens far and few between… but no, here instead were trees with growing foliage, their branches strong and filling out with their proper needles. No longer were they all indistinguishable from one another, but now he could tell which of them were cedars, firs, and pine. This couldn’t be right, could it?
Quirking a brow at the forest about himself, a sudden spike in energy returned to him; his curiosity and numerous questions now fueling him instead. If he’d only been gone a month, all of this growth shouldn’t be possible. Right? Even just two months, that can’t suddenly bring about healthier looking trees! While a number of the trees around him were tall and still somewhat naked, they’d shown signs of healthy and new growth. Curious… This hadn’t happened before with any of his previous deaths… So why now? How long could he been away from his lands?
Deep in his thoughts- though still mindful of what direction he was headed- he recalled looking over Barovia on the balcony of the castle, at first talking as he continued to watch his kingdom, but then there was someone who’d stepped forward, sharing some banter. A large knight..
Then it hit him like a sack of bricks.
The Paladin..
Suddenly the memory of a scarred face staring back at him in shock and pure regret painted the knight’s expression. How those golden eyes held such deep pain, welling with tears as the vampire’s own hand reached forward to caress the other man’s blue scaled cheek for reassurance before his form turned to ash. Strahd reflexively choked and gasped when he recalled the sharp and sudden pain of the holy avenger piercing up under his sternum and to his heart.
“Scott-!”
Memories flooded his mind in such a rush that he grew overwhelmed, awkwardly stopping the horse as his vision blurred and nearly falling off the saddle. Oh how his head ached! Grasping at his temples, he then remembered how the bloody fight between the Paladin and his party had gone, how he teased the group as Vasili in the castle, how he’d fallen for the half dragon Paladin, those secret flings of dangerous passion-
Now he had to see if they were all still there, if he was still there. Nudging the horse back into a fierce gallop, Strahd raced towards the castle. He lost Tatyana to the mists, he surely didn’t want to lose Scott either. In what felt like a millennia to the vampire, his tunnel vision eventually eased away once his eyes laid upon his castle after a few hours ride. Oh how his long dead heart beat furiously in his ears with tension with every stride.
Arriving a little under half a mile from the castle, Strahd dismounted the horse and shifted into a wolf, throwing concerns for his own strength to the wind as he forced his lupine legs to carry him swiftly across the grounds that led to his castle. In no time he’d already made it to the massive iron gate, his footfalls as light as a feather as he traversed the unstable drawbridge and to the front doors of the keep.
Shaking off the remaining tunnel vision he’d zeroed in on for the majority of his trek, the vampire lord returned to his man form and without skipping a beat, pushed the door open. Of course the castle was as silent as it ever was, so that was nothing new, but he could tell that it wasn’t quite right. The gargoyles were still there, same with the skeletons that repeated their daily tasks, but he couldn’t sense a number of his beasts that roamed the many floors of the castle. Heading to one of the spiral staircases to his right of the foyer, the sound of one of the dining room chairs scooting caught his attention. His senses were never wrong, especially if it were one of his many vampire spawn, so why the noise? Could be a meddling human he had little time for- the mere thought of which already lit an irritable fire in his chest.
Upon opening the door to the dining room, Strahd stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted one of his consorts at the table, her forehead being cradled in a hand as if nursing a headache.
“Ludmilla?”
“Strahd-”
Quickly making his way over to his wife, the Count cupped her cheek, running a calloused thumb over her cheekbone as his irritation left just as quickly as it had come.
“Were you hoping to find him?” Asked Ludmilla, her eyes shifting from the table and back at her husband; her eyes melancholic and not as fierce as they used to be.
“I… yes, but I’m glad to see you’re here,” sighed the Count, his hand dropping to shoulder in a loose embrace, I vaguely remember being told about Anastrasya and Volenta’s deaths.. and Escher?”
“I’m assuming he’s left- to where? Who knows. No point in wasting our time trying to drag him back,” she huffed, grabbing the pitcher of blood on the dining table, pouring another glassful for them to share, taking a sip before handing it off to her husband.
Just the smell alone of the blood made Strahd’s mouth water. How pathetic, the Lord of Barovia drooling at a glass of blood like some feral animal… Huffing away his thoughts, the Count gladly took the glass and sat beside Ludmilla, savoring the fresh, coppery, liquid with a sigh.
“The Paladin we favored, he left a few things behind for us,” commented Ludmilla, gently fidgeting with her wedding ring.
“Mm, is that so..?”
“Yes- his sword, a set of prayer beads with the symbol of his goddess, and a letter.”
Before Strahd could make a comment of his own, his spouse pushed the opened envelope over to him, seeing that it was issued out for the both of them. Silently quirking a brow at this, he took out the letter inside and scanned its contents.
To Lord and Lady of Castle Ravenloft,
I attempted to look for you Ludmilla– partly in hopes of checking in with you and seeing how you were after… the fight. Perhaps it was silly of me to do so, considering I murdered your husband of four centuries. I realize my need to reconnect was for my own selfish need to just be able to see you. I don’t feel proud of the death of Volenta and I know even bringing it up in a letter seems quite stupid but I hope there aren’t any hard feelings… We were just doing what we had to. You’re probably used to some of the routine that comes with adventurers coming to slay Strahd, but part of me hopes that you return to the castle to find this and… I don’t know, perhaps a bit of peace of mind?
I’ve no clue if Strahd will return but if he does, please share this with him as well. I didn’t expect to… I didn’t quite expect to fall in love over the short span of six months. Especially not this hard. Truthfully I’d put a pause to anything serious after my heartache well over a century ago, finding comfort in strangers until I’d kept my mind busy with the teachings of Morsif. Coming here I didn’t think it would be any different. Do the job, get out, go home. But no. You made it difficult, Strahd. Incredibly so… On our first interaction, I thought to size you up, get a feel of you, but instead it bit me in the ass and snowballed into something more. There was a certain charm there, and learning of your military history piqued a bit of interest- though truthfully I wound up finding myself empathizing with you to a degree, having also lived through awful times, done awful things… I doubt my friends could ever fully understand the reasoning behind our kinship, shared comforts, the small embers of romance.
When my sword pierced your chest, I didn’t expect for that to be the end. I could only see red as you summoned your hordes of vampire spawn and werewolves, whittling us down and running away to recover. The only person I had in my sights was you, Strahd, and of course just my luck I found you in the corner of a room and– it still pains me to think of it… The anger, the panic, then the relief and soft tender sadness that flashed over your eyes… I.. I can still feel your cold knuckles graze against my cheek.. I beg that when you return, if you do, that you do not hold any hate in your heart for me for that. If I could not stay and love you, keep you from this curse of yours, then I hope at the very least you can rest. It’s what you deserve. From one tired “old man” to another.
At this point I don’t know what to write anymore, I feel as though my thoughts are too scrambled to be coherent for a proper letter. Perhaps all of this is just a feeble attempt at a confession.. Either way, I love you, Strahd. And I doubt I’ll be able to move on for some time.. And the same extends to you too, Ludmilla. The both of you are going to be in this draconic heart of mine until the end of my days back on Eibon.
I hope either of you gets a hold of this letter seeing as I’ve left it within the castle along with my silvered sword and prayer beads as a means of remembering me by.
Strahd, please don’t forget that you’re more than this oppressive obsession forced upon you by the dark forces. Ludmilla, you’re as cunning as a fox and I’ll sorely miss our conversations and your genuine curiosity for magic, never lose that passion.
Love, your draconic Paladin,
Scott Ahrri’kuoma Cadmus .
The ancient vampire sat in silence, his dark brows furrowed as complex emotions crossed his face. Half expecting Strahd to crumple the letter and explode into a raging fit as he’d done numerous times before, Ludmilla was surprised to instead see his jaw tense and his lip twitch as if holding something back. Not once in their four hundred years together had she seen him cry, but he still fought off the tears of his glossed over eyes, now closing the letter with a heavy sigh.
“Only fair for him to pain my cold heart with a letter… after all, I did die by his hand, leaving him traumatized,” snorted the vampire, leaning back into his seat and taking a lazy swig of his drink.
The two sat in silence with one another until it was too much to bear; Strahd lifted a brow at his consort, finding her stiff and nervous posture very unlike herself.
“There’s something else, what is it?” He said, less of a question and more of a demand.
Shooting him a glare and rolling her eyes at his displeased growl, Ludmilla let out a sigh of her own and turned in her seat to face him.
“First you share the sentimental letter and now attitude, what is it Lud-“
“By the nine, von Zarovich, be quiet.” She snapped, moving her black cloak back and grabbing a hand of his with a force he didn’t expect.
Anger and irritation were quick to bubble in his chest but were quickly snuffed when his palm made contact with her stomach. His entire body tensed briefly before relaxing; a now stunned silence filling the dining room as he honed his still exhausted senses on the strong heartbeat that resided in his spouse’s now firm belly. The Count’s eyes darted up at the woman in silent question, unable to move his hands off from her.
How?
Worrying her lip as she kept her eyes focused on his hands, she shook her head, “I don’t know how this has happened… I don’t know if it’s the dark powers that be, some additional curse, or what, but… it’s been four months going on five, Strahd.”
“Five- Five months!?” Barked Strahd, practically jumping out of his seat, “I’ve never been gone for that long! Barovia as a whole must be in shambles- these people know nothing about running themselves!”
Shaking her head and rubbing at a temple, Ludmilla stole the wine glass and took a long drink as she watched the man before her work himself into a fit, “I’ve been managing things, keeping up appearances.”
“In your current state? Why not send Rahadin!”
“Because he is dead , Strahd! The fool thought he should try and kill the adventurers after finding out they’d slain you,” she crossed her arms and took another sip of blood, “I’ve kept his corpse safe in the larders, but I didn’t dare experiment on him lest he come back… unlike himself. I can’t quite resurrect people the way you can.”
Frustratedly rubbing at his face and sobering himself, pinching at the bridge of his nose, Strahd began to see why things had certainly looked different when he’d come back, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow… I’ve no extra power for any of that nonsense.”
Holding his hand out to his wife, Strahd looked about as ragged as he felt, “Come, let us retreat to our crypt.”
Taking his hand and carefully getting up from her seat, Ludmilla couldn’t say no to more rest, cradling her wine glass in hand as Strahd grabbed the pitcher, walking at her side.
“Though… with this now being a curious thing to happen, and being down two other consorts, how do you think things will play out..?” Asked Ludmilla as they took a shortcut and some stairs down to the lower levels of the castle.
The ancient vampire let out a deep, tired sigh, his brows hanging low above his lids, “Difficult, I’m sure.. But I am Strahd von Zarovich; I am ancient, I am the land, and I have dealt with many things across my lifetime that have also proven difficult, yet I persevere.”
Taking that as an acceptable answer, Ludmilla followed ensuite in comfortable silence until they’d finally met their destination; the two vampires once again alone in the massive castle that was Ravenloft, only accompanied by the soft sounds of bats fluttering or chirping amongst themselves along the ceiling.