A Night with the Vistani

This is a rewrite of the Mysterious Visitors adventure hook, meant to give more depth to the
encounter with the Vistani and give the PCs a chance to talk with each other. It’s also not tied
specifically to Forgotten Realms either, in fact my group of PCs will each be from different
settings.

When you're ready to begin, read the following box text.

A crimson sun slowly sets on a cloudless sky, marking the end of another day in this
nameless verdant grove. As the last vestiges of light disappear, the shadows grow tall
and looming, then retreat as the first campfire flickers to light, revealing a clearing within
the trees. Brightly painted carts and wagons rest in a loose circle, within which dozens of
folk of all races and ages vibrantly bustle, erecting colorful cloth tents and igniting
several more crackling bonfires. The twin hums of laughter and music rise to overtake
the murmur of crickets as a heavy cauldron is filled with water and set over the largest
fire. The seasoned aroma of stewing meat joins the sweet pine in the air as all of you sit
alone at a campfire together. The busy mirthful crowd around you, Vistani they call
themselves, have insisted their guests rest while they take care of the camp.

Sometime in the last few days, a small group of Vistani passed by you and asked for your help
in their lands. The details were few and vague, and they promised that more information would
be revealed once they rejoined the other Vistani who were also searching for adventurers.
Tight-lipped though they were, they made an oath that no harm would come to you, and that
they would return you safely home should you refuse. This is the evening of that reunion, and
your first time meeting the other would-be-heroes before you.

This is the time when the players introduce their characters, describe themselves, and chat for a
bit. When the time feels right, move on to the section below.

As the evening matures into night you are each offered wooden bowls of hearty stew
and invited to join the largest gathering around the tallest bonfire, the one with the
cauldron. Folk twirl and dance to the fire as giggling children run and play. A barrel of
wine is opened to much applause, and many of the older Vistani sit and relax, nursing
their drinks.

Once again, give the PC's some time to talk with the others if they want to. If the PCs ask the
Vistani for more details, the Vistani giggle and playfully say that they'll be told the full story after
dinner.

When you feel ready, move onto the text below.

 An older gentleman, with deep wrinkles, sprightly eyes, and a white goatee, refills his
wineskin and approaches you.

The man introduces himself as Stanimir. He is the oldest one of this particular group of Vistani,
with many children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all in this group. His daughter Damia
and her husband Ratka are the actual leaders of the caravan, but he is still respected and
listened to. He asks the PCs questions about themselves, how their journey has been, and any
previous adventures. Eventually, when you feel ready, move onto the next section.

"It's time for the story." The murmured phrase cascades through the clearing and seems
to echo from the trees themselves. All eyes turn to Stanimir who, after looking each and
every person in the eye, smiles, bows, and agrees. Cheers erupt, children jump up and
down in excitement, and everyone gathers around the largest fire. Stanimir turns to you
all, "pay close attention" he says, eyes brimming with anticipation, and takes his place
before the fire. Damia pulls out a cobza (a type of lute) and starts plucking a haunting yet
effervescent tune.

Stanimir fills his mouth with wine, cheeks bulging, then spits into the fire. The crackling
flames roar as they transform from orange to emerald green. As they dance and sway, a
shapeless shadow appears in the bonfire’s core.

“We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten—a land of kings. Our
enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads.”

The dark shape in the fire takes the form of a regal knight being knocked from his horse,
a spear piercing his side.

Stanimir continues. “One night, a wounded soldier staggered into our camp and
collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury, quenched his thirst with wine, and he survived.
When we asked him who he was, he wouldn’t say. He asked to return home, but we
were deep within the land of the very enemies who nearly slew him. We took him as one
of our own and escorted him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him
viciously, saying he was a prince. Yet we didn’t give him up, even when their soldiers
and assassins fell upon us like fire and wolves.”

Deep in the bonfire, you see the dark figure standing with sword drawn, fighting off a
host of dark assailants..

“This man of royal blood fought bravely to protect us, as we protected him. After many
grueling weeks, we arrived safely at his home. He thanked us, saying, ‘I owe you my life.
Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe
here.’”
 The figure in the dancing fire vanquishes its final foe, then disperses in a cloud of smoke
and embers.

Stanimir’s face becomes a somber mask. “A curse has befallen our noble prince,
twisting his soul into that of a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain.
We’ve traveled far and wide to find heroes such as yourselves to end our lord’s curse
and put his troubled soul to rest. Our leader, Madam Eva, knows all. Will you venture to
Barovia and speak with her?”

These Vistani refuse to speak the name of their lord and provide no additional information. If the
characters press them for details, the Vistani reply, “Madam Eva has the answers you seek.”

If the characters agree to accompany the Vistani, the Vistani cheer, hug them and shake their
hands, and offer small gifts (Trinkets). The night is spent celebrating with them. That night, mists
envelop the group and take them to Barovia as they sleep.

You awake in darkness. You know that it must be morning, yet blackened dead trees
tower over you, trapping what little light escapes the blanket of thick rolling clouds that
now suffocate the sky. The smell of wet, rotting wood suffuses the frigid air, silent but for
the distant howling of hungry wolves. A web of ghost white mist slithers across the
ground, caressing your ankles.

The character's equipment is untouched (unless you're starting Penniless and Weaponless), but
there is no trace of Vistani otherwise, not even marks on the ground. If the characters even ask,
then they realize that the clearing they're now in is much smaller than the one they remember
going to sleep in. If they look around, they see a small dirt road and a claw-scratched sign
pointing the way to Barovia. If they succeed on a DC 10 Nature check, they know the claws to
be wolf claws.

If the characters follow Old Svalich Road, the mist grows taller and thicker behind them, but
stays thin enough to bear for now. They will pass by the Gates of Barovia (see Areas of Barovia
Area B) and eventually find Death House just a few miles outside of Barovia. From Death
House, they won't be able to see Barovia due to the thick mist blocking it. If you're not doing
Death House, then Barovia is clearly visible once the Gates of Barovia has passed through.

If the characters refuse to leave, go the wrong way, or similar, you could have the mists or
wolves herd them, or have the border to Barovia turn them around without them knowing it (so
they eventually return to the roadsign going where it is pointing).

When they come across Death House (or Barovia), the wolves howls begin to get louder and it
is the only refuge nearby. It is flanked by two abandoned structures on either side: a dilapidated
servants’ house; and a ruined stable. Both are largely empty, with broken doors, and contain
only a single room. At a glance the characters see that the two side buildings will not serve as
sufficient protection against the wolves.