Curse of Strahd
“Don’t worry! Stop worrying! She’s up here a bit. Just be patient. I know a place we can go! This fog is the worst I’ve seen. But the horse know the way. They have a sense.”
The wagon moves down the muddy path, groaning and creaking in protest of your current course. The monotonous… dull… grey… unnatural fog could put an elf to sleep. Not quite. Your mind does, however, give in to your temptation to explore suppressed memories of chilling tales where dark travelers were abducted by whispers in the night.
Bump! Suddenly alert – you realize you’ve been imagining the sound of a sad, ghostly melody that echos through the night No, wait. Its not your imagination. The tender weeping of an inconsolable violin are coming from somewhere ahead of you in the fog. It grows gradually louder as the driver keeps on course. The horses pick up speed, and a voice joins in. A girl’s voice. Then fog breaks slightly, though the sky is still unseen. And you know your desolation has ended when a cluster of buildings lining either side of the road appear before you..
“Right where I left her. I can taste the mead already! She isn’t much to look at. In fact, I’d keep from looking looking at anyone around here as much as possible. But we can get us some rest and and resupply in the morning. Here she is… Portend Hollow!”