The Finer Points of Turn-Based Combat Etiquette
The final, monstrous form of Strahd von Zarovich stands on the edge of a jagged island, floating in a pink void of strange gravity. Sprouting from his back are a pair of large, leathery wings, akin to that of a bat, and upon his face is a visage more demon than man, elongated, exaggerated fangs, expression so snarled and vicious the aggressive lines seem permanently creased into his face.
The man that was once brother to Sergei is no longer. Only the monster remains, a disjointed homunculus patched from all the pieces of who Strahd once was.
And the monster has just yeeted Ireena into the void below.
Sergei, by the twisted fates of the dice, is first up and wastes no time in doing something monumentally stupid. He gets out his 50 feet of hempen rope, ties it around himself, then runs straight off the edge of the floating island, leaping into the void after his one true love.
Without. Tying. The. Other. End. Of. The. Rope. OFF.
To call this plan half-baked is far too generous.
The Tarnished Prince has unanimously elected to make his – and Ireena’s – safety someone else’s problem by leaving the end of the 50 feet of rope just sitting there, on the island, waiting for the benevolence and indulgence of one of his fellows.
All the while, his fellows also have to contend with the monstrous final form of an enemy they’ve been trying to kill for days now.
Well.
Dear readers.
I will leave the formal judgements of this action to you, but it is the considered opinion of the prosecution in this case that the Tarnished Prince is guilty as sin and the Scribe will be pouring more salt on this than is in the Dead Sea.
(If only the cruel fates of the dice roll had allowed someone else to go first.)
ANYWAY.
Despite the complete recklessness of his actions, Sergei is successful in catching Ireena, holding her tightly to him. She looks at him lovingly, recognition in her eyes, no trace of any of Strahd’s shenanigans remaining. (Which might go a ways further to explaining why he just casually yeeted her into the void.)
Lute, completely and utterly FLABBERGASTED by Sergei’s actions (otherwise known as TOTAL, COMPLETE, UTTER FUCKING STUPIDITY whilst being frustratingly in character and fantastic roleplaying), has no reasonable recourse other than to make an attack on Strahd. Using one of the classics in their repertoire, Shatter, the Bard unleashes a vicious, thunderous rebuke upon the Dark Prince. The damage rolls across him and while he overcomes most of it, he still roars in rage, a sound that matches the thunderclap that just exploded around him.
Wasting no time in dealing with these vexing, puny mortals that have plagued him and his domain for months, Strahd digs into his arcane stockpile and breaks out Cloudkill, last used by the party’s old friend, Tasty Steve (the tastiest snacc that ever did snacc). The poisonous cloud of sickly, greeny-yellow vapour roils over the island, engulfing everyone, despite Quill’s best attempt at casting Counterspell.
(Fun fact, the D20 was out to kill the Wizard during this fight with its refusal to roll higher than a 12.)
However, courtesy of various resistances and standing within the auras of Paladins, Nathaniel, Lute and Quill are able to ablate some of the poison damage they would have taken.
Not quite done, however, Strahd moves forward, getting up in Nathaniel and Quill’s faces.
This suits Nathaniel just fine.
As Strahd is facing Quill, Nathaniel takes the opportunity to flank the bastard, the Wizard’s presence allowing the Paladin to gain this advantage. He draws Daisy, who is back to her excitable self after the whole child-murdering debacle, quickly declares there’s a Vampire to kill, then brings the glowing, monster-murder happy sword right down on the point where the Dark Prince’s wing meets his back.
With this hefty swing, bolstered by the casting of Holy Weapon, the Paladin tears into the wing, not quite tearing it off but 100% for sure causing Strahd some serious pain. Nathaniel takes another swing, hoping to finish what he started and get that wing off, but the Dark Prince is ready for it, his wing flexing and deflecting the strike away.
Up in the grill of a monstrous Vampire overlord in desperate need of a breath mint or twenty, Quill takes the opportunity to deal out a quick insult to Strahd. “I seem to be having this tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle,” he says, which, when said in Infernal (which he does, because the Wizard speaks Infernal), translates as the most terrible insult in the aforementioned language.
With the insult dispensed, the Wizard has a reckless Prince to save.
If it had been Quill up first, this would have been a much more straightforward exercise, but as a hefty boy in clanking gold armour decided to yeet himself into the void, it’s become a tad more complex and requiring a greater expenditure of spell slots. To begin with, the Wizard casts Misty Step in order to get away from the rather angry Strahd.
Now at the edge of the island, looking down into the void, Quill can see that Sergei and Ireena are all but ten feet below him, but that will change rapidly. Equally as rapidly, a series of thoughts and plans race through the Wizard’s mind before he alights upon the solution and promptly yeets himself after the Tarnished Prince.
(Yes, to the further dismay of other players, but at least the Wizard has spells that can get him right out of the pickle he’s thrown himself – literally – into.)
With a surprising deftness of minor acrobatics, Quill is able to land on Sergei’s back. For anyone keeping score, that’s Ireena in his arms like Superman carrying Lois Lane, and now he has a Wizard backpack.
In order to forestall the inevitable doom of the three of them hitting the pink shield surrounding Castle Ravenloft, Quill casts Fly on Sergei, who is easily able to handle the weight of two extra people.
Now if we could all kindly stop jumping off of things and actually get around to killing this bastard…
Strahd von Zarovich Must Die
Courtesy of the newfound flight ability gifted by the Wizard in order to save his reckless, (thus far*) ungrateful life, Sergei flies himself, Quill and Ireena up to the island and deposits them on the edge. Unfortunately, Cloudkill has shifted. A clear area has appeared in the centre of the island, but now all the fringes are covered.
(*In the Tarnished Prince’s defence, there was a lot going on, it might be that he’ll remember to thank the Wizard for saving them later. Presumably after the Wizard has saved them all from certain death once again.)
Sergei and Quill are fine, but Ireena inhales a bit of the poisonous cloud and has a minor coughing fit. She’s largely okay, but not if she stays in the cloud.
Furthermore, Cloudkill is actually extremely difficult to see through, to the point where the Wizard shouldn’t have been able to use Misty Step earlier but he is an incredibly smart boy and had definitely seen where was going before, so we’re going to declare Mind Palace shenanigans with a dash of Rule of Cool.
DM NOTE: Definitely wasn’t the DM forgetting about one of the spell effects. No sir.
In light of this inability to see his foe through the sickly fog of poisonous vapour, Sergei has little recourse but to get out his crossbow and fire blindly. Unsurprisingly, the bolt fails to hit anything or anyone, which is good for Nathaniel and Lute.
Speaking of the Bard, it’s their turn to take a small dose of Poison damage before doing something cool. (It’s the Bard, if you didn’t expect coolness from them have actually been paying attention?)
Not one to stray too far from their tried and tested classics, because when you’ve got crowd pleasers why not, Lute casts Polymorph on themself, becoming a Giant Eagle. Noble, freaking majestic, with giant fuck-off wings. They take flight, circle the island to where they can vaguely see Quill, Ireena and Sergei, then use their enormous wingbeats to disperse the poisonous cloud from around their friends.
Meanwhile, in the depths of the Cloudkill, Strahd decides it’s time to fuck up Nathaniel’s shit. And what better way to deal with this Clanky McClankerson than to break out a longsword and slash him up. The Paladin takes a hefty hit from the Dark Prince’s rage, a solid slash backed up with a zap of Lightning. A diffused flash is barely visible through the poisonous fog clinging to the island, slowly spilling off the sides like dry ice out of a goblet.
Not quite done, Strahd looses another strike with his longsword, landing another hefty slash and zap, before trying a quick unarmed swipe that fails to connect.
Certainly not inclined to take these sorts of shenanigans lying down, Nathaniel (after taking a quick hit of Poison damage) takes a step to his right, stepping into the centre of the island, now clear of Cloudkill as it pushes outwards. He gives himself a quick boop of Lay On Hands back to full health, then casts Shield of Faith upon himself for good measure.
Unfortunately, because Strahd is the Big Bad Meanie Asshole, he has all these Legendary Actions and he uses one to hit Nathaniel again with his longsword.
Ouch.
Seeing as Cloudkill isn’t doing anyone (aside from Strahd, but fuck that guy) any favours, the Wizard sees fit to deal with it. By casting Dispel Magic at 5th Level (since he knows that Cloudkill is a 5th Level spell on account of it being in his spellbook, so he really should’ve cast Counterspell at 5th but Hindsight is such a dick).
Quill mutters the incantation and makes the necessary somatic gestures. It looks as if he’s drawing the cloud towards him, sucking in the poisonous vapours, compressing them into a sphere the size of a tennis ball, before locking eyes with Strahd, favouring him with a shit-eating grin, and tossing the ball of dispelled Cloudkill over his shoulder, the spell falling harmlessly through the void and dissipating to nothing.
Not quite done (because this a theme of this fight, no wasted movements or half-measures here), Quill moves around to get a clearer line of sight on Strahd, but also to get away from Ireena in case the Dark Prince has any further notions to yeet her off the island.
Unfortunately for the Wizard, that is not what the Dark Prince had in mind. Triggered apparently by movement alone (or perhaps that Quill represents one of the greatest threats on the board), Strahd moves right in front of the Wizard. And courtesy of those accursed Legendary Actions because he’s a Legendary Fucking Bastard, he doesn’t take an opportunity attack.
He does, however, find himself immediately flanked by Sergei, who is still flying on account of Quill having not broken concentration on Fly.
The Tarnished Prince wastes no time in slashing at his brother with the trusty Sun Sword, the strike ripping a chunk out of the Dark Prince’s shoulder.
But that’s not all.
It also takes off the wing that Nathaniel had weakened earlier.
(The Paladin cheers because that’s fucking teamwork.)
“Hello, brother,” Sergei says as the wing falls to the ground, viscous, unholy blood oozing from the wound in Strahd’s shoulder. The Dark Prince turns and roars in his little brother’s face.
However, instead of immediately attacking Sergei, Strahd opts to visit an indignity upon Quill by promptly booting him off the edge of the island. The Tarnished Prince attempts to take another swing (courtesy of the conditions of the Sentinel Feat), but misses as the Dark Prince moves slightly forwards as his boot connects with the Wizard.
The Wizard is falling for the second time and it hasn’t even been a minute yet.
However, it’s Lute to the rescue! Still in the form of a Giant Eagle (a resplendent, august beast), the Bard swoops in and quickly grabs the falling form of the Wizard, swoops up and over the island, then deposits Quill on the other side, well away from Strahd.
Immortality and Invulnerability Are Not Synonyms
Speaking of this Barovian curmudgeon who fancies himself a Devil, the Dark Prince turns his attention to Sergei and attempts a spell. To those with the trained eye, it would appear that Strahd was attempting to cast Polymorph. Fortunately, the Tarnished Prince is able to resist the effects of the spell and isn’t turned into a hamster.
Vexed by his inability to turn his brother into something cute and easily yeeted, Strahd moves around so his brother isn’t behind him anymore. No being flanked for this Vampire.
Or so he thinks.
Nathaniel wastes no time in getting up in Strahd’s blindspot. As he does so, the Dark Prince takes a swing at his brother, landing a not insignificant slash and zap on the Tarnished Prince.
Incensed by the damage being visited upon the Tarnished Prince, the booting of the Wizard, and the flashbacks of all the slash and zaps he sustained, the Paladin lets loose with Daisy. Imbuing his beloved talking sword with Staggering Smite (the glowing sword, for some reason, glows a little brighter), Nathaniel takes two swipes at Strahd. He deals a hefty amount of damage to the Dark Prince, but more importantly, he takes off the Vampire’s last remaining wing.
Considerably vexed by the loss of his wing, Strahd attempts to boot Nathaniel off the edge of the island, but finds the beefy clank is harder to shift than the lanky spellcaster.
As fun (and the fates, through the rolls of the dice) would have it, the Wizard is up next.
Strahd is looking exceptionally bloodied, beaten, and immensely pissed off.
It’s go big or go home. Leave it all out on the field. Whatever cliché you need for this situation.
“Sergei, brace!” Quill calls out, knowing that casting his next spell will break the concentration on the Tarnished Prince’s Fly.
As Sergei prepares himself for an inevitable date with gravity, Quill brings his hands to chest, holding them over the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind as he speaks the incantation to cast Sunbeam. He flings out his left arm, the beam of pure, radiant sunlight lancing forth, cutting through the air and piercing Strahd’s neck. Light pours into the Dark Prince’s body, prominent, necrotic black veins suddenly searing with the radiance of his infernal, implacable enemy – the Sun.
Unprepared for the Wizard’s attack, Nathaniel is blinded, while Sergei, used to sunlight in his face because of the Sun Sword, watches as the spell tears into his older brother.
The monstrous form of the Dark Prince is burned away, leaving on the remnants of the man, the mortal that was Strahd von Zarovich. The Vampyr within is burned away, the monster destroyed, as the man beholds his brother. They lock eyes and, to Sergei’s confusion, a look of relief washes over the mortal features of the Dark Prince before the Sunbeam punches clean through the other side of his neck, severing his head from his body.
Sergei grabs the falling body of his brother, cradling his mortal remains in his arms. This should be a moment of elation, the great victory he has sought over the man who betrayed and murdered him at his own wedding. But that last look, the fragment that was the brother he once knew and loved, has doused the fires of triumph, leaving only a bittersweet taste in the Tarnished Prince’s mouth.
Lute lands on the island, still in Giant Eagle form, and sits, noble and solemn.
Nathaniel staggers slightly, recovering from the blinding radiance of the Sunbeam, not fully aware yet that their foe has been vanquished.
The severed head of Strahd von Zarovich is flung into the air, arcing in a trajectory that brings it bouncing across the ground until it rolls to a stop at Quill’s feet. The Wizard picks up the head and holds it in front of him.
He has imagined this moment countless times in his days in Barovia, the moment of Strahd’s final, definitive demise. What he would say, given the chance. And here it is. By his own hand, by the spells cast with his power, the end of the Dark Prince. Quill beholds the severed head and utters the word he has been dreaming of uttering for so long, a word the Dark Prince himself uttered to the Wizard after one of the latter’s first two impermanent demises.
“Disappointing.”
The moment is short lived, though, as the eyes in Strahd’s head, once rolled back, a classic of severed heads the Multiverse over, roll back and fix straight on Quill’s.
“Death is only the beginning.”
Then the body and the severed head crumble to dust.
Strahd von Zarovich, the Dark Prince, Count of Ravenloft, Dread Overlord of All Barovia, is finally, unequivocally, irrevocably, dead.
The Beginning
Castle Ravenloft undergoes some sudden changes. The pink void surrounding the flying fortress shifts, as if all power of this arcane shield is being diverted to the front. From the areas now exposed, the Fellowship of Misadventurers behold their final destination.
The Labyrinth. The Endless Maze of the Abyss. The realm of Baphomet.
That is, presumably Ezmerelda hasn’t royally fucked shit up in the Abyss while everyone else has been flouncing around Barovia.
Ravenloft’s approach velocity is critical, to say the least. The power being channelled into the shield is the only thing that will save them as the flying castle relinquishes its strange gravity and concedes to the gravity of the underworld.
The contact between Ravenloft and the Abyss is violent, explosive, the Castle carving a wide rift in the ground. Nathaniel, Quill and Ireena are rendered unconscious by the impact, while Sergei and Lute witness the chaos ahead of them unfold. The Tarnished Prince also grabs his love as she falls, because screw everyone else and potential concussions, right?
The shield around them fragments and fractures, finally dissolving away as Castle Ravenloft reaches its final, violent, abrupt end, deep in the Abyss, on the borders of the Labyrinth. Sergei and Lute do not resist the violence of their sudden cessation of motion, both being rendered unconscious. The Bard promptly turns back into their traditional Warforged form.
Around them, the dust plumes, slowly drifting and settling as a new feature dominates the Abyssal skyline. The towers of Castle Ravenloft stand above the Labyrinth.
And there is no way that their landing went unnoticed.
Stirring in the depths of Hell, forces are at work. Baphomet, almost certainly.
With his mission completed, will the Raven Queen claim Quill’s soul for eternal servitude?
And what of the Cunning Bride? The final wife of Strahd, Ludmilla, remains at large, presumed somewhere in the Castle somewhere before it made its impressive, destructive landing.
Rudolf van Richten, almost certainly dead, his lifeforce given over to enable the Misadventurers to reach the Abyss to save his adopted daughter. And Blinski’s Clockwork Man, somewhere in an unexplored corner of the Castle, if it survived the crash.
Not to mention a probably extremely pissed off Escher with a gaggle of Ireena clones and a musty accountant.
OH! AND WHAT IN THE HELLS HAPPENED TO DREASMONDE!?
So many loose ends. So many possible things that could happen, paths to be walked, branches explored.
Doors…opened?
Death is only the beginning, and Hell is our stage.
—
Chapter 99: When a Plane Shatters… COMING SOON!
Feeble Dungeons 