The party rested after the intense events at the Amber Temple. Morning came, and Demetrius and Esmeralda stirred awake. Demetrius immediately embraced Agatha, his voice breaking as he called her, “You fool of a woman.” Agatha smiled gently. “Oh, hush, Demetrius. I had lovely company escorting me back,” she said, gesturing toward the party. As the group exchanged greetings, [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “Demetrius,” he began, his voice calm but cold, “you have the wedding dress, yes?” Demetrius narrowed his eyes. “I do. But what’s it to you?” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s tone sharpened. “The Abbott promised me my soul back for that dress.” Demetrius’s face darkened. “And he promised me he’d restore my son. My son is worth more than your cursed soul.” The air grew thick with tension. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] straightened, his imposing figure radiating menace. Before the situation could escalate, [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] stepped between them. “Enough! We’re all trying to save someone here.” Demetrius sneered. “You think his soul is more important than my boy? You know nothing.” Agatha placed a hand on Demetrius’s arm. “Fetch the dress, my love. Let’s not argue.” Demetrius sighed, his anger subsiding, and disappeared into the house. Demetrius returned shortly, carrying a pristine wedding dress. Agatha unfolded it carefully, revealing its intricate embroidery and delicate lace. “Well?” she asked, holding it up for the party to see. [[Ellette|Ellette]] stepped closer, her tone softening. “It’s beautiful. You were lucky to wear something so fine.” Agatha beamed at the compliment, though her smile carried a hint of sadness. With Ireena, Agatha, and Demetrius, the party began their journey to the Abbey. Passing the fountain, [[Ellette|Ellette]] couldn’t help but glance at it, the memory of [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s failure still fresh. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]], for his part, walked in silence, his gaze fixed ahead. At the Abbey, the Abbott stood waiting, his hands clasped and a smile on his face. “Ah, wonderful!” he said, clapping his hands. “Thank you all. You have done splendid work.” He gestured to Ireena and the dress. “There is but one more piece I need. And I do believe you brought it to me already. I need the soul of a bride-to-be.” [[Ellette|Ellette]] stepped forward, her moonblade drawn. “You will not have Ireena,” she said firmly. A chill ran through her as she realized the Abbott’s words might apply to her. The Abbott raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I just need the soul of a bride-to-be. And the dress.” Agatha turned to Demetrius, her eyes shining with determination. “This is the right thing to do,” she whispered. She kissed him softly, then stepped toward the Abbott. She paused beside [[Ellette|Ellette]], placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, dear,” she said, her voice warm. Addressing the Abbott, Agatha said, “I have the soul of a bride and the dress to match. If I give you these, do you promise to restore their friend’s soul?” The Abbott nodded. “I agree.” As he began his incantations, the dress vanished from Agatha’s hands, and a ghostly light surrounded her. Her body crumpled, an empty husk falling to the ground. The Abbott’s magic surged toward [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]], lifting him into the air. Slowly, his grey scales brightened to gold, and clarity returned to his eyes. “It is done,” the Abbott declared. “My plans are all coming together. I have constructed the perfect bride for the Lord of Barovia! Come, my minions, let us prepare.” [[Ellette|Ellette]]’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. “Wait. Are you telling me this woman, her son, and that dress all went toward creating some… bride for Strahd?” The Abbott smiled. “Precisely.” Before he could react, [[Ellette|Ellette]] Fey Stepped behind him. Her moonblade flashed, and the Abbott’s head fell to the ground. His body collapsed moments later. From within the Abbey came a haunting wail. The party rushed inside, finding a grotesque figure—an undead bride, stitched together, wearing the wedding dress. Tears streamed from her hollow eyes as she whispered, “Help me.” [[Ellette|Ellette]] stood frozen, horrified by the sight. [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] stepped forward, his revolver drawn. “I got this,” he said, firing twice. The undead bride fell, lifeless once more. [[Zara Blackwood|Zara]] approached cautiously, removing the wedding dress and folding it carefully. “This should return home,” she murmured. By the altar stood a massive statue of Strahd. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]], his defiance rekindled, hurled a fireball at it. The explosion revealed a hidden chest. [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] climbed up and retrieved it. The party exited the Abbey, the weight of their actions hanging heavy over them. [[Zara Blackwood|Zara]] handed the dress back to Demetrius, who broke down in tears and carried it home. When they opened the chest, a vengeful spirit erupted, screeching. “You stole my wedding from me! I was to be Strahd’s perfect bride!” The spirit, Patriona, flew into Agatha’s husk. Her form twisted and transformed, creating a new body. She fled into the night, her laughter echoing. Inside the chest lay a medallion shaped like a sun. [[Zara Blackwood|Zara]] picked it up, feeling its weight and significance. The party returned to Esmeralda’s base to regroup. [[Zara Blackwood|Zara]], feeling playful, donned the armor from the Amber Temple, mimicking Strahd’s posture. But as she fastened it, the armor clung to her, refusing to come off. A strange power coursed through her, leaving her both exhilarated and uneasy. The party discussed the events of the day, the losses they had endured, and the cost of restoring [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s soul. Their victory was bittersweet, leaving them questioning the path forward. [[Chapter 79. Across the Waters]]