Chapter 42

The Butcher

The Krushkin's were two Vallakian brothers and wolf hunters by trade, hired by Milvoj with a considerable amount of coin to track down a few runaway orphan boys that nobody else cared to find. Yevgeni and his brother Szoldar had been searching for them Northwest of Vallaki, and found the tracks of a scuffle that led them deep into the Ravenwood, a dangerous wood on the Western banks of Lake Zarovich known for werewolf activity. Szoldar argued they go back empty handed, that it was clear the boys had been abducted by werewolves and probably eaten or killed, but Yevgeni insisted they track carefully for one more day: partly because Milvoj had paid them so well, and partly because they'd found a strange track mixed in with the rest bigger than any they'd ever seen. That next day, they were attacked by the werewolf group they'd been chasing and they had with them a massive wolf-like beast. Twice the size of a horse, more ferocious than a hell-hound, and fast enough to outrun the arrows they shot at it's furry hide. It's unquenchable bloodlust seemed only to be contained by the commands of the werewolf pack's leader, otherwise it had the look of a beast that would have mindlessly slayed them all. Yevgeni was tossed into the brush and left for dead, Szoldar beaten near to death and hauled off with their group. Yevgeni limped back to Vallaki and pounded on the western gates: immediately following Ludmilla's attack during the Festival of the Sun. Athrin and Eliza on hearing reports of this creature, knew it was the one they'd encountered before, the one they came here to kill in vengence, and they set off with the injured Yevgeni to help rescue his brother. That was nearly three weeks ago.

They traveled to the site of the Krushkin's ambush, then picked up the wolf pack's trail and followed it to the shores of Lake Baratok, West of Zarovich nestled in the Ravenwood hills. There they saw lake's ancient tower, half crumbling on a natural land jetty nearly in the center of the lake, and Athrin suggested they rest there so Yevgeni could properly heal. But Yevgeni explained that the Baratok tower was very old, as old as Strahd, and off limits, for it was guarded by a mighty dragon of ancient times. The tower was far too small to fit a dragon and with no signs of such a creature anywhere in sight Athrin highly doubted it, but they agreed instead to camp along the shore. The next morning they traveled around the edge of the lake, to the slopes of a great stony hill, and followed the tracks up the hill to a werewolf den: THE werewolf den by Yevgeni's description, where all those inflicted by the curse over the years withdrew from society and lived and hunted in peace. The mouth of the den was unnaturally wrought of stone in the likeness of a great wolf's gaping maw. They camped outside the den for three days in secret, observing the comings and goings of the werewolves. Each day the pack slept and meandered about in the den, but each night they emerged to hunt. They seemed to be at least six in number, but no more than a dozen, and although they kept natural wolves as hunting dogs there was no sign of the massive beast they'd come to kill. On the third day, just after dawn, they heard the sounds of cries and grunts of two young boys, which they assumed Milvoj's orphans. If they still lived as the werewolve's captives, then Szoldar must live as well. So the next night at Yevgeni's insistence and as the pack was away on the hunt, Eliza led them into the den. It was quite, dark, and musty and fragmented into a dozen small hovels and interconnected chambers, and the three of them snuck about in the dark by their ears and hands alone to try to find Szoldar. Quietly whispering his name they slunk deeper and deeper into the cave, until without an answer they found him. Szoldar's body lay strew across the stone of the cave floor, partially rotten and disembowled, he'd been dead for days. But they were not alone, and out of the utter darkness a rumbling snarl emerged, the great beast that had torn through Szoldar's stomach and drained him of his blood raised it's snarling head at the intruders, and as Athrin lit his blade to light up their foe it attacked. The beast was lightning fast as the reports had claimed, in the dark of the cave it was near impossible to track. Eliza fired silver bullets that sent cacophonous booms bouncing around the cavern, and though the ones that hit drew glistening blood, far too many cracked worthless against the stone walls. Yevgeni yelled in a vengeful rage, and threw himself into the frey. He was cut down in an instant, half his throat torn out of his chest. Eliza knew the sound of their battle would surely reach the hunting pack, but she fired and fired and fired. Athrin honed every strike with the rage he bore for everything the beast had taken from him. But then Eliza was out, unconcious from a heavy blow. When she awoke she was surrounded by enemy werewolves returned from hunting, their leader in human form with a savage grin across his face seemed to hold the beast in a dormant state with a simple stare, and her friend Athrin lie lifeless on the floor.

Eliza would remain their captive for thirteen grief filled days, locked in an iron cage and fed enough venison scraps to keep from death, while Athrin rot on the floor just a stone's throw across the cavern room. The werewolves complained that something was not right with his body, some foul decay already plaguing him that Eliza could herself not detect, but one of them insisted that it was the right of Mother Night to claim the soul, and that the body would remain the requiset time before being dispossed of. From the cage where she waited, watched and listened, Eliza learned a great deal. There were precisly 9 werewolves in the pack, nearly as many gray wolves, and the fearsome beast they all seemed to call Gholl. Kiril lead them, the man with the delivish grin, and many of the other werewolves seemed to follow his commands completely, of which he gave many. The two boys from Vallaki were indeed here in the den, kept in cages just like Eliza, and Kiril was forcing the two to fight each other every few days to "toughen them up." It became clear they intended to kill one and turn the other, once Kiril had made up his mind about which boy had the strongest will. Still, some of the pack seemed to offer contempt and the barest sense of compliance to his orders. The chief one being a werewolf named Zuleika. Zuleika addressed Eliza more directly than the rest, and several days after her capture, began a long retelling of the recent past. With anger and bitterness she complained to Eliza that Kiril was not the true leader, that their old leader Skennis, who kept the pack safe and protected for decades by continuing the tradition of total seclusion, announced his retirement and a new leader had to be chosen. Emil, Zuleika's mate, was the front runner, but Kiril challenged him to a duel for supremacy. When Kiril lost he ran from the pack in disgrace and Emil assumed leadership, but several weeks later, Kiril returned with the mighty beast enslaved to him, a new form of werewolf made from a man he called Gholl. Together they nearly killed Emil and ran him from the den, chasing him far out of their hunting grounds for days. Kiril and Gholl finally returned empty handed, claiming that Emil the Weakling had fled, and Kiril assumed leadership of the pack by the ancient law of supremacy. Zuleika said she could still feel that Emil was alive somewhere in Barovia, but in the past year he has not returned. Since Kiril has taken control of the pack he's argued for increasing their numbers by turning more inferior humans, and amidst their hunting he sometimes leads his loyal werewolves on murder missions to cull the weakest of Barovia's residents. He's yet to turn anyone, saying they've all lacked the strength. Eliza was forced to listen, but Zuleika did not offer to set her free or explain why she was being kept alive. Her wounds she did her best to keep clean, but without proper attention a deep laceration on her forearm became infected and she began drifting in and out of fevered conciousness. One night, she witnessed in her fuge state Kiril's final plan for the abducted boys. In the common chamber before her cage he made the two fight each other to the death, as everyone else watched, and the winner Kiril turned. The next evening Zuleika came to Eliza's cage and set her free. She told her this wasn't the way, that it was true their pack dwindled without new members but that their lycanthropy was a gift, and that this didn't embody the freedom it gave. She also offered to turn Eliza, set her spirit free to wander the wilds as it was always meant to, she put it. Eliza graciously declined, and looked about the cave for Athrin's body which seemingly was no longer there. Then she made her escape.

Fever ridden and mortally wounded, Eliza wandered her way through the woods heading west. She knew she'd never make it back to Vallaki alive, she barely expected to survive to see the dawn. Her only chance was Krezk which she knew only by name and vague direction. Still she trudged on, for hours that stretched into what felt like days, before she came upon the bright light of the Krezk watch fires. Even on the doorstep of death, sneaking into the village was simple enough for Eliza, and without being seen she crept over the wall and through the village. Up the winding road to the Abbey and past it's doors. The Abbot saw her at once, and recognizing her fate quickly made her an offer: save her life in exchange for her ears and everything they heard. Repulsed by his alien demeaner and strange offer, she still saw no other way, and accepted. He healed her instantly and offered a bed to spend the night. She hadn't slept much in over two weeks, and dreamed straight through the next day and a half.

Face to face with the friends she thought she'd never see again in the attic of the Abbot's peculiar abode, Eliza told them everything that happened. They listened silently to her tale, and felt a pang of sorrow at the news of their dead friend. For Erros, Athrin's death felt like he'd been dropped into the icy waters of Zarovich, felt the deep loneliness of his time with the Vistani, and the hopeless of waking up amidst the burning huts in the deep forest. It boiled inside him as Eliza spoke, and when she finished rage gripped him and he grabbed the lip of the nearby table to send it flying off it's feet. It crashed onto the floor with the sound of snapping wood, and a heavy stillness fell on the room until he spoke.

Let's get them. He drew his sword and the group hurriedly began devising a route through the forest and a plan of attack, but Eliza though she bore her gun just the same, advised caution. She explained she wanted revenge the same as them, even more so, for Athrin was only the last of dear loved ones she'd lost to the beast they called Ghol, but the den was their home turf, the concentration of their power, they'd been prepared for a fight and were still caught unaware in it's dark depths. And Fabian recalled something Adrian Martikov had warned them of that was even more difficult to account for: the inherited lycanthrope responsible for Erros's infection held sway over his actions with a mere command, a power they'd all understood to exist from Eliza's description of Ghol and Kiril. With a sneaking suspicion, Fabian asked Eliza to describe Kiril, and it fit near perfectly with the man they'd encountered on the road, the man who'd lead the pack that had bitten Erros. If they went up against Kiril, he could force a transformation in Erros, turn him against his friends, and the burning need he felt to avenge Athrin's death burned away any considerations he'd given to keeping his wolf power. He had to be cured. Now.

All in agreement that the wolf den

Erros strikes the deal with the abbot and he cures him, they ask questions and it reveals more of his nature, including the celestial

They're lead to the laboratory, pass the silent wall, see the abbot's true nature

Fabian attacks, but they continue to talk, then the Abbot see's Strahd's tensor