Curse of Strahd Solo Run (IC)

[RandomWombat]

As so often is said, it was a dark and stormy night. The sort of night that no amount of praying, nor chests of gold cast into the sea, can appease. The waves churned below, tossing the ship hither and fro, and a man could scarcely see five feet before his eyes - so thick and oppressive the fog upon the water.

Kellon had been hired to guide the ship of a crew of pirate hunters. Rumors had spidered out of ghost ships in the night, manned by beastly creatures not entirely man nor wolf. Such tall tales, Kellon had come to expect out of the fishermen and sailors. But they had seemed so far from the awesome power of nature that he had come to know, so ephemeral next to its booming and swirling anger.

Until this night, he had not known that power can be in silence, as it can be in rage. Nothing in him had sensed its approach, nothing in the weather predicted it. And even as the storm raged around them, there was silence. The stillness of the grave muffling the cries of the sailors. Muffling the cracking of wood as the ship ran aground. Muffling the splash as he hit the water.


How long has it been? Feet sluggish, arms drooping, Kellon finds himself wandering through a dense fog. Its wetness clinging to his face and choking his tongue with a paradoxical dryness. All around him as he walks, he can feel it move, curl, clutch at his arms and legs and shell like spectral hands. "Lost." It whispers. The voice in the mist. "Listen." It worms into his ears, like a parasite. All around him it tingles, with every swirl of the fog, every slither of its currents. "Learn." It tells him, his tired mind, his thoughts dragging through mud and trying to comprehend.

"Wake up."

Ahead, he can feel it before he sees it. The mist clearing. On the other side, an expanse of darkness. Infinite black of the void. For a moment, it seems this is the end of the road. Is this death?


Then his eyes snap open, as he gasps for breath. The sound of running water to his left, his arm lying in its cold current. He is on his chest, lying in the mud of a riverbank. To his right are trees, bushes, thorny thickets and gnarled branches that loom above, jagged like bolts of thunder stretched across a grey and overcast sky.

Across the water to his left... the other bank is unseen. A thick fog is slowly rolling in, advancing across the surface of the water like a thousand serpents crawling through the grass, weaving between and around river stones. The longer he looks at the fog, the more Kellan feels that sluggishness from his dream creep into his bones. The fog is bad. This he knows, instinctively.

[Prehysterical]

In those dark moments before disaster, Kellon wondered in his heart if he had somehow betrayed the Tempest's trust and was punished with the most frightful storm one can imagine: one with no warning. Even the crash of thunder murmured like a distant brook, lightning invisible and reduced to causing the unearthly mist to glow ever so slightly brighter. Was it because he had taken the hunters' coin, using his gifted talents for his own profit? In the horrible, unbearable silence of the mist enshrouding the vessel, Kellon's thoughts swelled and roared like an advancing tidal wave. The sailors' questions and demands fell upon deaf earholes as Kellon stared out into the impenetrable mist, trying to glean some sort of clue out of its appearance. It was almost a relief when the ship struck rock, the slightest stimulation to prove that they had not merely sailed into a ghostly afterlife. That split-second of sensation instantly lost its value as Kellon felt himself catapulted through the air, the ship crashing with such violence that even his hundreds of pounds of weight were sent arcing like stones from a catapult. He didn't even feel himself hit the water, lost in a daze and feeling uncharacteristically weak as he began to sink.

If it had had the spare energy, his mind would have reeled at finding himself wandering through fog instead of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Kellon would have preferred the latter, if only for the honesty of the sharks making a meal of him on the way down instead of being drained and probed by this fog so clearly unnatural and invasive. It is only his natural drive that keeps him moving forward, instinctively seeking the exit from this planescape of torment. Was this what the drowned saw in their final moments? Imaginings of being lost in a fog because the thought of dying alone in the open ocean was too much for a mind to bear? This was not how Kellon would have envisioned his death. He had always envisioned his death with a crash and a roar, not a whimper...

The void stretches before him. He cannot go back; he must go forward, whatever the outcome...

Breath raggedly enters his lungs as Kellon's eyes snap open. He can feel and hear the mud churning under his shell as he moves. He can feel the cold water trickling over his arm, hear it churn and ripple over the intruding limb. He can hear! The foul mist is gone! Rising quickly to his clawed feet, Kellon takes stock of his surroundings. His entire frame swivels as he examines the treeline and searches for the opposite bank. Cold blood runs colder as Kellon sees, feels, the fog from his dream returning. Despite lacking any hair, the spikes of Kellon's shell allowed him to bristle convincingly. "Would that I could blow you away in a hurricane's gust," Kellon cursed in an uncharacteristic hushed hiss. He needed to move. Before panic and survival could overtake him, however, Kellon needed to take stock of his possessions... and make at least a token attempt to see if anyone else survived.
So, which way is left? The trees or the water? You used left for both of them.

[RandomWombat]

A slip of the mind as I was typing, the water was supposed to be to his left, the trees to his right.

A quick skim of his possessions finds Kellon's pack safely upon his person - albeit soaking wet, which may not do wonders for the longevity of his emergency rations. His crossbow remains strapped to the pack, but his warhammer is nowhere in sight.

Then, almost as if Poseidon had heard a silent prayer, there is the sharp clank of metal against rock, like a thunderstrike. Just a few feet out into the water, shallow enough to wade, a warhammer has been caught between a river stone and a tree root.

Across the river, through the fog, Kellon can hear the muffled sounds of sloshing footsteps. A shadowed figure wades out from the other bank, a good twenty or more feet out and perhaps further beyond the fog. It seems that the river is not deep here, and fordable were it not for that spectral wall in the way.

A slightly familiar face wanders out, with deep bags under her eyes and a shambling in her step. An elven woman, one of the sailors from the ship. Her name escapes Kellon for the moment. She is clad in a plain brown tunic and has a large spiked club strapped to her back, with rust-colored hair tied back behind her and a few dark-colored tattoos on her neck. Her eyes are distant as she falls forward into the water and begins to be swept downcurrent. The fog continues to advance, uncaring, behind her.

[Prehysterical]

All things considered, a soaking wet pack and its contents were better than none at all. Fortunately, Kellon had had the foresight to have his crossbow carved from driftwood so that it would not bloat or warp when exposed to seawater. It seemed like the warhammer was the price to pay for his life and the rest of his possessions, but the clanking scrape of metal against rock and water glimmering off of the weapon's head would have brought a smile to Kellon's face were his beak capable of such an expression.

At first, the sound of stamping splashes puts Kellon on his guard. Upon seeing the elf woman's familiar face, however, his alarm dulls to wariness. Kellon can see the weariness in her eyes that he himself had felt in that strange dream fugue of the fog. Before he could ask a question or snap her out of her torpor, the sailor woman faceplants into the water and the current begins to tug on her as if greedily seizing its prize. The wall of fog keeps advancing and Kellon has a split-second of torn decision-making. He clenches and pumps his fists in annoyance at this obvious dilemma. "Damnation!" Kellon surges forward, trying desperately to rescue the elf.

[RandomWombat]

The river, as luck would have it, hides no sheer drops that would send the tortle under. Kellon is able to wade out into the water, though it soon reaches the point where swimming would be faster if he intends to catch up with the elf before she is swept away - or lost in the gossamer shroud.

Kellon may make an Athletics check. The river is not flowing terribly fast, but this will determine whether they are overtaken by the Mist before he can get back to shore.
Along with the Athletics check, he can roll a contingent Constitution save against the Mist's effects, should the Athletics check fail.

[Prehysterical]

Athletics check: [roll0]
[roll1]

[RandomWombat]

Though he is swift in the water, Kellon is accustomed to the open waters of the sea. His bulky shell bumps several times into river stones, slowing him or sending him off course. By the time he reaches the woman and begins to drag her away, the Mists are advancing past them. As Kellon pulls in a breath, he feels his mouth dried by its touch as if he'd swallowed a cloud of dust, bringing him to a coughing fit.

Pulling the elven woman out on the bank of the river, the Mists are right behind them now, looming far above like a wall as tall as the sky. The dark woods lie ahead. She is coughing and slowly coming back to her senses as she crawls up onto dry land and starts staggering away from the wall of fog. She tries to say something, but it is lost to another coughing fit as she grabs onto a tree for balance.

Kellon and the elven woman have each suffered a level of Exhaustion; for her, another one.

[Prehysterical]

Damned rivers! Why did they have to have so many things to run into?! Only Kellon's fearsome strength lets him save the woman at all, but the fog creeps over both of them. The air is foul, stealing moisture and vitality from him instead of restoring it.

Looking back, Kellon feels a sense of sheer dread as the mist marches forward just as mercilessly as the fiercest thunderheads or a looming tsunami. Fortunately, the woman stops being dead weight and stumbles desperately to her feet. Her disorientation is understandable, but Kellon knows that this is a test for both of them. He moves forward and shoves the woman forward into the treeline, his bulk and strength making it an easy proposition. Kellon's voice is raspy from the effects of the fog, making him seem even more like haggard flotsam. "Can't stop. You stop, you die. Keep going."
If the woman makes no effort to move, Kellon will go on without her.
If the woman moves forward but isn't moving fast enough, Kellon will do what he can to help.

In all cases, Kellon will try to get his warhammer if he can make it before the fog reaches them.

[RandomWombat]

The warhammer is within arm's reach from shore, so he can grab it as he makes his way into the woods.

On a side note, let me know if the elf's shade of green is too bright to see well.

The elf nods weakly and begins trudging into the woods. Her steps are ponderous, as though she is trying to wade through molasses. Her eyes are unfocused and she is visibly struggling to pry open their lids enough to see where she is going. With a guiding hand from Kellon, she is able to keep up - well enough, at least, to outpace the fog wall and leave it behind them out of view. But Kellon can tell, in his gut, that its inexorable march has not ceased.

Ahead, they can hear the thwack of an arrow and the yowl of a beast. "Hunters?" she manages to utter, uncertainly. The two of them break through to the other side of a treeline, where they can see a sloped hill ahead and open fields beyond. There are four wolves ahead - one dead with two arrows embedded in its head and side, and another injured with an arrow protruding from one limping leg. Atop the hill are a trio of humans of fair complexion and dark hair, garbed in bleak browns and greys.

One of the men, wearing a floppy cap, notices the two emerge and points in horror. "By the Mornin'lord, Andri, what sort of mongrelfolk is that?" he shouts, elbowing one of his comrades and pointing in Kellon's direction. The other men gawk and back away. As the wolves snap, snarl, and lunge closer, the three hunters turn tail and run.

The wolves do not give chase, sensing the threat emerging behind them. The two uninjured wolves move between Kellon and his wobbly elf, and the injured wolf, snarling with their teeth bared. The beasts' positioning puts them unfortunately straight in the path away from the encroaching Mists.

"****," the woman reaches up and fumbles with her greatclub, unslinging it and letting it drop to the ground beside her, handle in both hands. "I must look like..." she coughs again. "Easy prey."

If Kellon wishes to try and bypass the wolves, he can attempt Animal Handling alongside whatever he tries. The yet unnamed elf will provide a Help action, giving him Advantage on the roll (roll twice and take the better result). This cancels out the Exhaustion (https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Conditions#toc_15) penalty he is currently experiencing, which inflicts Disadvantage on Ability checks (roll twice and take the worst result).

If he feels it would take too much time, he can roll Initiative instead and try to fight their way past. Initiative is a Dex-based Ability check, so it would also have Disadvantage.

The elf woman currently has Level 3 Exhaustion, giving her significant movement and combat penalties.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon was surprised to hear signs of other humanoids so quickly. He only hoped that they were not hostile to outsiders... Their sudden arrival into open space catches Kellon by surprise. Wherever they were, this was no island like he was used to. It is obvious that these hunters are being cornered by the wolves, but before Kellon can offer assistance, the trio point to him in horror and flee. Kellon has no time to be insulted as the wolves turn to new targets. His gut tells him that they cannot afford prolonged combat with the wolves. Even if his rescued sailor survived the encounter, the mist crept ever closer to them.

Through the slight fog in his own mind, Kellon replies to her, "Well, I am not." Kellon's beak clicks a single syllable as he steps forward, unafraid of the wolves. When he speaks, his voice booms like thunder as the storm lends him its voice. "SHARKS OF THE FOREST, BEGONE! NO MEAL HERE FOR YOU TODAY BUT DEATH!"
Rolling for Handle Animal with Advantage
[roll0]
[roll1]

[RandomWombat]

Stepping forward behind Kellon and lifting herself up to be larger and less like prey, the elven woman swings an arm to the side and calls out after him, "Get! Begone!" Kellon can hear her hoarse voice straining not to crack. But their loud display and lack of fear have shaken the wolves, who take a few steps back, still snarling and baring their teeth.

Thinking better of getting into this scrap, one of the wolves grabs the dead one by its neck and drags it away, the injured one limping behind. The third remains between them and the two shipwrecked sailors, not moving its eyes from them until the beasts have reached the treeline and skulked away.

The way is clear, and the elf droops back down with a sigh, walking forward again. The grass beneath them is slippery and slick, as if with dew. But between his taloned toes, Kellon can feel the dew is slicker than water, leaving a gross-feeling residue on his feet, like slime or blood. Yet a glance can see that it is clear as water. More than once on their way up the hill, the elf slips and has to struggle back to her feet.

From the hilltop, open fields stretch out around them. The open is broken sporadically by thickets and more patches of trees, and hilly. No sun can be seen in the sky, its light diluted and cast everywhere as a grey curtain through the clouds. More menacing is the Mist closing in from all directions, creeping out of the treeline like gnarled fingers.

Yet not all is bleak. Ahead, they can see the three hunters ahead of them still running, having gained a significant lead. And they are running towards the silhouette of a town.

[Prehysterical]

It takes a bit longer than Kellon would have liked, but the fight is avoided. The two of them move forward again, uncomfortably aware of the ooze generously called water beneath their feet. He has to help his ward one or twice as they scramble up the hill away from impending doom. Kellon looks up and hisses at the lack of a sun. "Another bad omen... Have the gods shut their eyes to this place?"

Each passing moment gives the fog more and more resemblance to an incoming tide as it pours out of the treeline. Kellon points after the fleeing hunters. "Fond of outsiders, they are not, but that town is our only chance. Make haste!"

[RandomWombat]

"Going," the elf responds, taking a step down the other side of the hill. She slips again and goes sliding down, rolling through the grass at the bottom. With a groan, she gets back up and wipes some of the ooze off of her arms in disgust. "What is this?" she asks tiredly, and it's not clear if she's speaking to anyone, or just to herself as she continues to force herself forward.

It is a long walk through the dreary field. The ambient light begins to fade, the sunset carrying an eerie blue or purple tinge instead of the warm pinks, ambers and oranges of the sun setting over the sea. It appears that they had the misfortune to arrive near dusk. Ahead of them there is the flickering light of a small campfire, and two of the hunters with their bows drawn.

"Hold on. Hold on!" one of the hunters raises his shortbow, though he doesn't draw back his arrow yet. "Creature. What are you?"

The second hunter looks towards the elf, narrowing his glaring, suspicious eyes. "A female duskie? Thought the King killed them all."

"What... is a duskie?" she responds, her club dragging behind her as she steps up beside Kellon.

"The ears!" the second hunter points at her head. "You've the sharp ears. Like the duskies, the nighteyes."

No sign can be seen of the third hunter, the one called Andri. But behind the campfire is an old road, barely a worn dirt path where many people have walked. It stretches from the east to the west - the cardinal directions finally having become clear along with the direction of sunset.

Also, not sure if the roll20 link in the OOC thread works without a game invite (https://app.roll20.net/join/8773077/u0-Y7A), so here is one.

[Prehysterical]

Yeah, it wouldn't let me in without an invite.

Kellon himself slips down the hill, but his shell only seems to serve as a sled on top of the vile sludge. He is thankful that he cannot feel its disgusting muck on his hard shell like he can in the sensitive webbing between his toes. He says nothing in response to her question, lacking a single clue to answer truthfully.

While there is some small comfort to be found in finally establishing the position of the sun, the sky feels... wrong. The colors are muted, choked, and stifled by the oppressive atmosphere of this country. They approach the campfire, apprehensive about confronting the hunters from earlier.

It seems as though coldbloods are not the only unwanted guests in these lands. Kellon had never heard an elf referred to as a "duskie", but the term did not sound flattering at all. He spreads his arms wide, showing that he is unarmed. His voice speaks with confidence, his tone measured like a sermon. "I am Kellon, herald of the Tempest." The bronze of his trident-headed amulet gleams in the firelight. "I am a tortle; my folk are of the ocean isles. That is why I am lost. Our ship wrecked in a foul storm and we have been stranded in this strange country." He looks pointedly around at the sky. "I can see why you call upon Lathander in a place of such vile mist and feeble light. Tell me, what happened to the other hunter? Andri, his name was? He was not hurt by the wolves, was he?" Perhaps if Kellon shows that he is no threat, these landlubbers will tell them where they are.

[RandomWombat]

The broad stance of the turtle only seems to intimidate the hunters more, as the nearer of the two - the one facing him with bow ready - takes another step back. "Ocean?" the man asks, in confusion. "The ocean is only a myth."

Before more can be said, the answer of Andri's location becomes clear. From the gloom of the nearby buildings, across the road and up a slight incline, walks a man flanked by several other townsfolk. They are dressed in bland cloth tunics and trousers draped around gaunt, hunched forms, and wearing perpetual scowls. The blue light of the dusk sets their faces an eerie hue, streaked with long shadows.

One of the men carries a torch, its flame giving a more familiar, comforting red hue to the light around him. Comforting were it not for his fear and hate filled eyes locked onto the tortle.Two more flank him, carrying a pitchfork and a hoe. To the side of the men is a woman in a bloody apron, carrying a butcher's cleaver. Her hair is held back in a net.

Lastly, leading their pack, is Andri - the third of the three hunters. "We are here," he tells the other two, reassuringly, though his voice wavers with doubt.

"The creature speaks of the legendary ocean," the first hunter speaks again, informing Andri.

"Ocean?" the woman crows in a shrill voice. "Wait. That is no mongrelfolk, you fool menfolk," she points her cleaver at Kellon. "Look at their garb, their weapons. These are outlanders."

"Outlanders?" the man with the torch keeps his eyes locked on Kellon. The two with farming equipment remain silent, and if their stares could kill Kellon would be dead twice over.

"Said they were 'shipwrecked'. They got a female duskie-" the second hunter points at the elf again.

"I'm an elf," she corrects him this time, starting to get her breath back after a few moments standing. And for every moment standing, Kellon can sense the Mist growing nearer as it encircles the village. "Where are we?"

"Why, you're in Barovia, lass," the human woman answers, waving her butcher's cleaver around emphatically at their surroundings. "My condolences."

[Prehysterical]

A sense of unease grows in Kellon as the hunters deny his words and what can only be a lynch mob approaches from the settlement. He does not back down from the torchbearer's gaze, looking back with eyes colored like a clear ocean sky. Even as this confrontation played out, Kellon could feel his skin prickle as the Mist creeped ever closer. Dropping his arms in an attempt to calm the hunters, Kellon makes a request. "I know nothing of these lands, save that the Mist here is more foul than any threat I have ever come across. Even as we speak, it creeps in toward this village. I request sanctuary for the both of us. We have already been exposed to the Mist and death will find us quickly if we do not find shelter. I ask not for charity; I can provide healing or fresh water as payment for your hospitality."
Persuasion check: [roll0]

[RandomWombat]

"The Mists are coming?" Andri parrots, looking out past Kellon. Indeed, behind him it has begun to crest the hills since past, and glide down them in rivers of pale white. "He's right! We must get to shelter."

The hunter whose bow is still lowered goes to the fire and starts to stamp it out, but the other grabs him by the arm and pulls him back towards the mob. "The Mists will snuff the fire, leave it!" Both of them shoot another look at Kellon, but retreat towards the village without another word.

"I'm not having outlanders at my house! Nothing but trouble," the man with the pitchfork declares, turning around and following on his neighbors' heels. None of the others seem particularly keen on having two strange houseguests either and begin to fall back.

The butcher, at least, offers them some parting words: "You'll find yourselves the tavern near the center of the village... keeper doesn't much care if guest is outlander, if they have coin." With that she turns and hikes up her skirt to join the others retreating to their homes.

The elven woman beside Kellon finally slings her club onto her back once more. "Quite the welcoming committee... legendary ocean? Where in the Hells are we?" she asks the question quietly, as she starts another tired march up towards the buildings over the road.

[Prehysterical]

Hardly the open arms that Kellon had been hoping for, but at least they had avoided an unnecessary bloodbath. What irony that the butcher should prove to be the most diplomatic of the bunch... Kellon didn't have much coin to his name, but maybe a few gold would convince the innkeep to at least tolerate their presence for one night. As he trudges forward, Kellon replies facetiously to his companion's question. "Didn't you hear? We're in Barovia!

...Wherever in the Abyss that is."

[RandomWombat]

"Guess I can't say which, never been to the Hells or the Abyss," the elf responds dryly, as they move. Not far to their right, they see a fork in the road that leads up into down, likely a main road used by traders and the sort.

Walking into the village, they find it a gloomy vision. The homes are old, with peeling paint and poorly kept porches, and their owners pointedly shut the blinds or close the shutters whenever Kellon's eyes drift their way. Many have the look of old money that has dried up, homes that at one time must have been quite nice. While the road outside of the village was little more than dirt, the streets inside are gravel. Some patches are missing or filled with holes, leaving the streets bumpy and uncomfortable to walk on.

"A-a- aaaahaaaagh!"

Their walking is interrupted by a sound from the north, as they arrive at a four way intersection. The sound of a very small boy crying. Up the road, they can see two human children in the middle of the road, in front of a particularly tall, thin and worn down brick row house with cobwebs on the windows and eaves. The boy is sitting on the ground crying, with a cloth doll clutched in his little hands. A hooded jacket is bundled up around him and shrouds his crying face, save for the tears streaming down his cheeks. An older girl is kneeling next to him, trying to shush and comfort him. She is wearing a high-collared cloak.

The girl looks up, hearing the clunk of Kellon's hammer against his shell as he walks. "H-hello?" She looks at the two of them in awe. "What are you? Can you help us?" She points at the tall scarecrow of a house. "Please! There's a monster in our house!" The boy stops crying and looks up at Kellon uncertainly.

On either side of the house are abandoned homes, their doors and windows boarded up. A gated portico on the ground floor of the indicated home hangs open, its rusty gate creaking in the wind. Next to the gate is a water damaged copper plaque with a family name that Kellon has trouble making out.

In spite of her condition, the elf doesn't seem to hesitate before going over to try and calm the children. "Where are your parents? Did they just leave you out here? Easy, easy." She squats down and holds up her hands, making sure not to reach for them and set the boy off again. "It's dangerous to be outside right now, can we talk inside?"

"Mama and papa keep the monster trap in basement," the boy answers with a slight lisp, between a gap in his two front teeth.

"We're not going back inside until the monster is gone," the girl insists, hugging her presumed little brother tighter against her leg.

[Prehysterical]

The whole place reeks of misery, an animal living on the last of its fat. Kellon finds himself confused by the villagers' behavior. If they despise outsiders so much, why just leave them be? Why not run them out of town? They didn't seem afraid to use violence...

Fierce wailing and sobbing shatters Kellon's resentful contemplation. They move up to investigate the source of the noise, surprised to see children out in the street at this hour. He finds their clothing strange, but it seems better made than the rags worn by the rest of the townsfolk. While the elf tries to comfort the children, Kellon can just barely make out the name on the plaque. It is nice for once to be regarded merely as strange and not a "monster" in his own right.

He finally turns to speak to the frightened young ones. "We are outsiders, but we will help you, little one. Quickly now, what does the monster look like?"

[RandomWombat]

The boy sniffs a trail of snot from his nose back up into the nostril and whimpers, "I down know... we never see the monster."

"But we can hear it howling from the basement," the girl adds. "A terrible howling like the wolves."

"What will we do if monster gobbles mama and papa?" the boy asks, lip quivering and voice wavering again. His sister pulls back his hood, revealing short brown hair, and runs a hand through the bristles.

"Ssssh, hush little Thorn, don't be afraid. Big sister will make sure nothing bad ever happens to you."

The elf stands up and looks at the house. She walks over into the entryway with Kellon. Inside the portico are two hanging oil lamps, unlit. Beyond them is an impressive, sturdy oak door, slightly ajar. She reaches out and tugs on the handle, and it swings open to reveal a foyer. It, too, is unlit, though another lamp with oil ready in it is sitting on a small side table. On the south wall, to their right, is a shield mounted on the wall with a coat of arms, that of a golden windmill standing over a red field. Flanking the shield are portraits of stony faced aristocrats with the characteristic hard-knock look of the Barovian people they have met thus far, but with clothes of fine quality like the children have.

At the other end of the dark foyer is a set of mahogany doors.

Looking to Kellon, the elf asks, "Should we go check it out?" She adds in a quieter voice, "We can check quickly, then lie to them and say there's no monster before we search more. They can't stay outside with that Mist coming."

And indeed, it has not stopped. In fact, Kellon can sense it drawing closer with growing speed, already encircling them as if swirling and probing the edges of the town for its lost prey. For all the storms and weather Kellon has faced, never has one hunted him so.

[Prehysterical]

There must be something that Kellon is missing. How could the rest of the village be so heartless that the sobs of a scared child do nothing to stir aid? Apparently, their blood was colder than his own...

After inspecting the foyer, Kellon turns his stumpy neck and nods his agreement. "I will go on ahead. Bring the children into the foyer. Protect them while I investigate. If I am not back by the time that the Mist clears, take the children to the tavern. If this monster should prove deadly, I will not go quietly..."

Kellon lifts the spare lamp from the side table and lights it before fetching his warhammer from its sling. Armed and illuminated, Kellon ventures past the mahogany doors.

[RandomWombat]

The elf follows behind him, stepping into the foyer and watching through the mahogany doors as he investigates.

With lamp in hand, held by a brass handle that allows it to hang as a lantern, Kellon steps through. He finds himself in the main hall, running the width of the house. Contrary to the exterior, everything in here looks much fairer, better maintained, and newer. Just to his left is an unlit black marble fireplace, with logs and kindling inside a small metal grate. Above the mantle is a longsword mounted on the wall, and much like the shield it possesses a windmill cameo worked into the hilt. In front of the fireplace, a few paces away, is a trophy rug made from a whole wolf's hide, head and all. To the right, across the room, is a red marble staircase that curves around, leading to the second floor. The wood panel walls and the railings of the staircase are decorated with imagery of vines and flowers, and a sculpture of a frolicking nymph and satyr decorates the room as a centerpiece.

There are several other doors, leading elsewhere in the house, but no sign of a basement staircase yet. As Kellon is about to begin searching further, the elf behind him gasps. She's turned around to call the children in, but when Kellon looks past her he can see them both standing calmly with the Mist at their backs, weaving its way through their bodies with white tendrils as if they were not there. Where it passes through them, their forms shimmer and drift apart like smoke and mirrors. Before they fade, consumed by the fog entirely, Kellon can see the older sister mouth two words with a desperate look in her eyes.

For the sake of narrative, I have rolled an Insight check to try and read her lips, but Kellon was unable to make out what she was saying.

As the elf is running for the door to close it before the Mist can come in, she jumps - a figure dashes around the corner of the portico and she nearly decks him in the face before he backs away and holds up his hands. "Wh- hey hey hey!" It is a bespectacled human man with a fuller complexion than the locals, and strange outlandish garb. He is dressed in a fine leather coat with a blue shirt underneath, and a pair of tailored trousers, leading down to equally fine leather shoes. His spectacles are even gilded with gold - or a good fake.

"Who are you? Where are the children?!"

"Chil...dren?" the man looks behind himself at the creeping mist, streaks of white already creeping around his heels like fungal hyphae. "Didn't see any children, nope. May I please take shelter in your house? I'm really terribly lost, and the Mist, and..." he pulls out a handkerchief and dabs sweat from his forehead.

[Prehysterical]

Compared to the squalor outside, the interior decorating seems positively lavish compared to what Kellon is used to. His head whips around at the shocked gasp of the elf and he feels his blood turn to ice as the children... not torn apart, but dissipated by the mist. No grinning specter, the girl seems desperate to tell him something, but Kellon cannot make the words out.

When the newcomer comes around the corner, Kellon instinctively takes a step forward with weapon raised to punish the ambusher. The intruder is not one of the townspeople or some cutthroat brigand, however, at least not obviously. It is disquieting to consider whether the two of them have gone mad or if the man pretended that he didn't see them, but the Mist is a threat that will not be ignored. "Shut the damn door," Kellon orders with a shout shy of a roar, hoping to remind the elf of the immediate threat. As the man enters, Kellon steps back into the foyer and looks his fancy garb up and down. A thought occurs to him.

"You're not from Barovia, either, are you?"

[RandomWombat]

Kellon's shout reminds her, and the elf grabs the stammering man by the arm, practically hurling him inside at Kellon's bulky frame. She slams the door shut behind him - and locks it for good measure, whatever good it will do against the mist. But it seems that the malevolent weather is unwilling to enter the strange house... whether that is comforting or foreboding, is hard to tell.

The newcomer steps back after stumbling into Kellon's chest and adjusts his glasses, looking up at the tortle. "Oh - you are... quite large. And menacing." The man swallows with a gulp as the elf comes up behind him. "Is that where we are? No, decidedly not. Hold on, do you mean... Bavaria?"

"No, Barovia. Unless the locals were pronouncing it wrong," the elf answers. "I guess that means you don't know anything about where we are either, which is just our luck so far. Do you have a name?" She asks, rubbing her tired eyes.

"Of course, where are my manners," tucking away his handkerchief, the man offers a handshake to each of them in turn. "Anton Burrel, novelist, perhaps you've heard of me?" He takes note of her prominent ears and his brow creases in confusion again.

"Not in the slightest. I'm Gweyir," her answer indirectly answering the unasked question of her name, Gweyir returns the human's handshake.

[Prehysterical]

For the immediate moment, they are safe. The Mist's reluctance to test the house's gaps leaves Kellon with mixed feelings. He brushes off the man's comments. This one looked as soft and weak as they came, a hollow and rigid reed that would snap at the first gust. The man seems just as confused as the villagers, but is obviously another outsider. What even was a 'novelist', anyway? Reluctantly, Kellon stows his warhammer and accepts the strange warmblood custom of handshaking, having to take care not to accidentally flay the man with his claws. "Kellon," he says simply. Looking past the man as if he was yet another spirit, Kellon addresses Gweyir. "I know that you are tired, Gweyir, but something strange is going on with this house. I refuse to rest until I know that this place is secure. We should go together, room by room, and check this place from top to bottom. Then we might actually have a chance at some rest in this gods-forsaken place."

[RandomWombat]

"Safety first when sleeping in haunted houses," Gweyir agrees without complaint, stepping out into the main hall. Her elven eyes don't have much trouble in the gloom outside the reach of Kellon's lantern. "Where do you want to start?"

The soft little man marvels at the shield on display, scrambling to catch up behind them only when the removal of Kellon's light leaves him in the dark. "Haunted, you say?" the man asks, with perhaps too much eagerness mixed into the nervousness. "Perhaps I can be of some help, then."

Turning to face him and looking him up and down, Gweyir pays him a doubtful quirked eyebrow.

"Now, I may write fiction, but I do my research," Anton explains, holding up a finger. "What is a horror writer without a passing knowledge of the occult, hm? A hack, that's what. Why, together we could have this place exorcised in a jiffy... er, I suppose we would need a priest for that, actually. But you know what I mean."

"Not sure I do," reaching up, Gweyir takes the longsword from above the mantle and tests its balance in her hand. "Better than a club," she comments to herself, drawing it from its scabbard. The blade is polished and oiled, clearly well maintained, and there is a gleam of silver down its length.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon follows her into the main hall. "Like I said, I think we should start upstairs first. The... children said that there might be something awful in the basement. He shares Gweyir's skepticism. This clean-cut human, obviously born of privilege, an expert of spirits? "As it just so happens," Kellon rumbles in annoyance, "You are looking at a priest." A free claw holds up the trident head of his amulet in emphasis. "So, please, by all means, don't let that stop you."

[RandomWombat]

Leaning forwards and holding his spectacles a little further down his nose, Anton examines the trident symbol. "Aha, the symbol of Poseidon, god of the sea!" He pushes his glasses back up and points at Kellon. "I've figured it out. You are some variety of Atlantean, from a colony in the Ionian Sea! Am I correct?"

Gewyir turns and looks at Kellon. If he meets her eye, she seems amused by the man's guesses. She walks over to one of the doors and opens it up, revealing a closet with some coat racks. There are warm-looking black coats hung up inside, as well as a black top hat hanging from a hat hook.

[Prehysterical]

At the very least, the man correctly identifies Kellon's god. The rest, however, is pure nonsense. Kellon's reply is curt. "I am a tortle and those names mean nothing to me." He rolls his eyes at Gweyir before heading upstairs. At this point, he would rather deal with restless spirits than this human's inane chatter...

[RandomWombat]

Not wanting to be left behind in the dark or alone, the other two climb up after Kellon. The red marble stairs hold his weight well, proving themselves sturdy.

In the upper hall they arrive in, there are four looming suits of armor, cast in eerie shadows by the firelight of the oil lamp. They stand on either side of the room, flanking wooden double doors with images of dancing youths upon them. The suits of armor each hold spears, and their helmets are sculpted into the shape of a wolf's head. More unlit oil lamps in ornate sconces adorn the walls.

Above another fireplace, situated above the one below and sharing a single chimney, is a large portrait of the Durst family, an oil painting with a wooden frame. The mother and father stand behind two smiling children, who Kellon recognizes as the apparitions from outside. In the father's arms lay a swaddled baby, which the mother seems to be eyeing with a hint of scorn.

The stairwell continues upwards past this floor, and from above the party can feel a cool draft.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon's gaze passes over the still suits of armor, suspicious of them in a place so haunted.
Perception
[roll0]
[roll1]

He looks sadly upon the family portrait on the wall. Things had not ended happily here, though who was to blame was unclear for the moment. Feeling the air from above, Kellon looks consideringly from the staircase to the fireplace. "Do you think that the Mist might try to come down through the chimney? Perhaps the windows upstairs?"

[RandomWombat]

None of the statues move an inch, their visors watching in the lamplight. Kellon lifts up one of the visors... and finds the structure of a wooden mannequin inside, holding the display together.

"Do you want to go check?" Gweyir looks up the stairwell towards the third floor. Beside her, Anton is trying to wiggle one of the other lamps out of its sconce - and he manages it. With a twist of the knob he switches it on, holding it by a structure around the base like a chamberstick.

[Prehysterical]

"...Aye. Best be sure." Kellon makes his way up the marble stairs to the third floor.

[RandomWombat]

Following the marble staircase to its conclusion, the party arrives at the top. Overlooking the staircase is a dusty indoor balcony. This floor has none of the finely maintained furnishing of the ones before. Straight ahead, against the wall, a suit of rusty black plate armor stands, draped in a cloak of cobwebs. The walls are decorated with woodland scenes of trees, falling leaves, and small woodland critters scampering to and fro. More oil lamps dot the wall, these ones clouded by a layer of dust and grime.

"Well. It looks like the house servants quit halfway through," Anton comments, jokingly. Then he stops and flinches as the old wooden floor, scuffed by age and covered in a layer of dust that kicks up with every step, groans under Kellon's weight.

"We should try not to bunch up here," Gweyir tells him, kneeling down a the top of the stairs to feel at the floorboards, pressing with her fingers. "The wood is spongy, poorly maintained."

The source of the draft seems to be a long crack in the wall over the staircase, through which a cold wind blows. Thankfully, no strands of gossamer Mist are slithering inside.

[Prehysterical]

Indeed, the inconsistency seems puzzling. Why would the previous two floors be so free of neglect and yet this one shows its proper age? His beak clacks together in unpleasant surprise as the wood protests under his weight. Kellon steps back to the safety of the marble staircase. "I shall stay here, it seems. Check the rooms. Be careful."

[RandomWombat]

"Come on, then," Gweyir tugs at Anton's sleeve and leads him up, squeezing past Kellon on the stairwell. The two of them begin by walking towards the small alcove that turns around a corner, and the double doors inside. But as the two of them pass by the suit if black armor, a dim blue glow starts to awaken inside of it, shining through the slits of its visor like a pair of blazing eyes the color of Barovian sunset.

Before its sharp, rusted gauntlets can reach for Gweyir, her stolen sword is drawn and she takes a defensive stance. "We've got trouble, Kellon!" Just behind her, Anton yelps and snatches a small wooden stick from an interior pocket of his jacket.

Initiative time (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pv7AMNI0kdk&t=575s), as the animated armor attacks.
All party members pass a background Perception check to avoid being Surprised.

Gweyir: 6
Kellon: 4
Anton: 4
Animated Armor: 4

Yes, everyone rolled astonishingly low. For tied rolls I will favor PC -> Ally -> Enemy

Gweyir uses the Dodge action, forcing attacks against her to be made at Disadvantage.
It is Kellon's turn.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon raises his warhammer as the plate mail reveals its hidden spirit. "Behind me, you two!" He points at the armor and invokes the searing heat of lightning. "Skyfire!"
Kellon casts Sacred Flame on the armor.

[RandomWombat]

A sphere of white flame manifests above the armor and surges downwards, but the armor moves with jerky mechanical motions to sidestep the flame, which dissipates against the floorboards. Without second guessing, Anton uses the railing to leap over Kellon, landing behind him on the stairwell, out of reach of the haunted armor.

The armor reaches back and swings a metal fist towards Gweyir's center of mass, but she parries the blow with her sword and backs away, sidling past Kellon onto the stairs between him and Anton. The armor begins to lumber after with slow, deliberate steps.

Animated Armor passes its Dex save vs Sacred Flame.
Anton uses Disengage, and moves behind Kellon.

Animated Armor attacks Gweyir, but misses.

Gweyir uses Disengage, and moves behind Kellon.
It is Kellon's turn again.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon growls as the armor somehow manages to dodge despite its clunky movements. Fortunately, the other have fled to the safety of the stairs and now Kellon stands as their bulwark at the top. He cannot move forward to engage the foe, but instead tauntingly smacks the head of his warhammer against his plastron. "I am right here, foul spirit! I shall put you to rest!"
Kellon readies an attack for when the armor closes.
Attack roll: [roll0]
Blunt damage: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

With a creaking of rusty joints, the armor steps implacably onto the stairway. Before it can attack, Kellon is ready, and he slams his hammer into the armor's knee plate. It snaps and crunches under the blow, but the armor does not topple, instead standing lopsided as it grabs at Kellon's shell with its gauntlets, and then drives its plated metal head into Kellon's forehead. The blow leaves him reeling, and he feels dribbling blood trickle down his face. In response to the contact, a sudden surge of electricity bursts out, scattering across the surface of the armor and leaving scorch marks behind.

From on the stairs, Anton waves his wand around in the air as he incants, "Suffosio!" The light within the armor flickers for a moment, as the rusted ends of its joints curl and corrode further, and it falls to the ground limply for a brief moment. Then it begins twitching and spasming as the pieces begin to stand once more.

Reaching out, Gweyir causes a thorny vine to grow out along her forearm. "Lash it!" she commands, and the vine lunges out, trying to snap some of the leather straps holding the armor's joints together. But it fails to find purchase.

Kellon's readied attack triggers, and he critically hits for 12 damage.

Animated Armor slams Kellon for a painful 7 damage. Edit: Kellon's Wrath of the Storm triggers, dealing 7 damage after a successful Dex save.

Anton casts a spell (Kellon Arcana: Failed to identify), causing 3 necrotic damage and the armor to fall Prone. Melee attacks against it are at Advantage, while ranged are at Disadvantage.
Gweyir casts a spell (Kellon Arcana: Thorn Whip (http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:thorn-whip)), but misses the armor.
It is now Kellon's turn again.

[Prehysterical]

Despite striking true, the armor care not for things like pain. Pain is something Kellon finds himself immediately reacquainted with as the armor slams its helmet into his own brow. His knees wobble as his head spins from the impact, but he stands firm as the storm repays the blow. Fortunately, his allies find a way to contribute to the fight from behind him and the armor is suppressed by their magics. Glaring down at the unfeeling armor, Kellon raises his warhammer and brings it swinging down toward the foe's helm.
Attack rolls:
[roll0]
[roll1]
Bludgeoning Damage: [roll2]

[RandomWombat]

Damn, impressive. Exactly enough damage.

The hammer raises high, and like thunder it crashes in a cacophony of metal on metal. The helmet crumbles as blue light splatters out of it like blood, dimming in sparkling patterns on the marble until it fades away. Piece by piece the armor begins to crumble and lose its shape, pieces tumbling down the stairs past Kellon and making a hell of a racket.

"Are you alright?" Gweyir asks, placing a hand on the back of Kellon's shell and stepping up to take a look at his forehead. "You're bleeding pretty bad."

Anton picks up one of the gauntlets that rolls down next to his foot and looks at it, then startles and drops it down the central shaft of the stairwell when one last twitch escapes the 'dying' construct.

[Prehysterical]

The ringing of metal as the spirit is put to rest satisfies Kellon even through his pounding headache. He leans against the wall for support as Gweyir checks on him, waving her off. "We all must weather the storm from time to time. Fortunately, the waters can give life as well as take it." Kellon puts away his warhammer and touches his forehead, letting healing energy flow back into him.
Kellon casts Cure Wounds on himself.
[roll0] damage healed

[RandomWombat]

The wound mends, the bleeding stops, and Kellon's pain becomes only a recent memory. Gweyir nods, satisfied that he's taken care of it himself. "I have some healing magic of my own, so keep that in mind while we're fighting these ghosts." She turns to look at Anton down the stairs. "What of you? It seems your magic is more than just empty boasts."

"Oh, well, given an hour I can put together a little something to help treat wounds," the soft highborn replies, considering his wand and whether to tuck it back into its place. Ultimately he decides to keep it out, in hand and ready. "By the way, that was no ghost, but a construct," he points his wand at some of the scattered pieces, as if seeing them again means anything more to the other two. "Animated armor. Popular security for nobility, or occultists of means."

"I don't think we can afford to leave any of us alone around here," Gweyir tells Kellon, largely tuning out Anton's ramblings.

[Prehysterical]

"I will keep that in mind, hunter." Kellon is pleased that he is not the only one who is capable of mending wounds. His opinion of Anton has also gone up. The man's magic proved useful during the encounter and Kellon gives nods slowly to acknowledge Anton's correction. Not quite as sinister, but irrelevant to the dead.

Kellon gives a single fervent nod in agreement with Gweyir. "Agreed." Looking back to the landing, Kellon asks, "Now... should we try this again?"

[RandomWombat]

"As long as we stay spread out, I don't think the floor should give out," Gweyir states thoughtfully, testing the wood again with her foot. "A shame we don't have any way to make you lighter. No offense."

"We could tie some helium-filled balloons to him," Anton suggests.

"Do you have helium-filled balloons?"

"Well, er. Not so much on me." The man looks around as if seeking any sign of one nearby, then shrugs. "In any case, you both seem a little flagged. Perhaps we should focus on securing a single room, that we may take a rest in peace?"

[Prehysterical]

Gweyir's apology puzzles Kellon. Tortles have thick shells by their very nature, so being heavy is normal for his kind. Anton's inane comments leave the tortle only more confused. What was 'helium'? This stranger was full of foreign words.

Kellon shakes his head firmly against Anton's suggestion. "We need to make sure at least one floor is secure before we rest. We do not have the means to barricade, so we must be sure that no surprises come bursting through doors. Lead on, Gweyir."

[RandomWombat]

Taking the fore, Gweyir keeps the silver sword in hand as she enters the small corner alcove she'd ventured before the armor attacked. The double doors are decorated with inset panes of dusty stained glass, depicting the windmills that appear to be the Durst family's crest. As she takes hold and swings them open, a dusty master bedroom is revealed. The centerpiece of the room is a four-poster bed with once-white, now-stained embroidered curtains, and a tattered cloth veil. Matching tattered curtains hang in front of old, cracked windows, and a pair of wooden wardrobes stand between the bed and the wall.

To the left is a vanity table with a wood-framed mirror, with a jewelry box upon it and a padded chair sitting in front of the mirror. Alongside that end of the room is another fireplace and a rotting tiger-skin rug that reeks of decay. A few small mushrooms grow out of the moldy rug. Another portrait of the Durst parents hangs above the mantle.

To the right, the room branches off into a small parlor covered in webbing. A few tiny spiders crawl hither and to, tending to their weaves. A cloth covered table and two chairs sit in the parlor, with an empty porcelain bowl and a jug with many spouts sitting upon the table. Just off of the parlor is a clear glass door to a balcony, where the Mist swirls around, but refuses to touch the balcony itself. On the opposite wall from the balcony door is a smaller - almost comically small - wooden door set into the wall, at about chest height on a human.

The ceiling of the parlor has a hole in it, which as since been covered thickly in webbing. Some broken boards lie on the floor beneath the hole.

Anton opens a door across from the foot of the bed, upon which a full body mirror is affixed. Inside is an empty, dusty closet full of motheaten remnants of clothes. "Not a whole lot here, but the jewelry box might be worth something."

[Prehysterical]

Slowly, gingerly, Kellon follows after the pair. Who were these people that had such wealth to spare for fancy furs and stained glass in doors? He gags at the smell of the rotten tiger skin. Sure, the ocean often had its own rank foulness from clumped seaweed and fishbait, but this was a different flavor of awful. The Mist's unwillingness to even intrude upon the balcony is puzzling. What could hold such a powerful force at bay?

Kellon scoffs at Anton's comment. "Nevermind that we don't know what happened to these people, I don't think you'd make much of any money selling to the folk around here. They'd probably just fill you full of holes and take the jewelry for the trouble. Let's focus on surviving the night and not lining our pockets."
Kellon is going to look around the room for anything seemingly out of the ordinary.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[RandomWombat]

Anton's face flushes a bit and he clears his throat. "Right, of course. Though..." he stops as he explores the parlor and examines the jug on the table. He leans in closer and adjusts his glasses to peer at it from a few different angles, while the others continue to search the room.

Opening one of the wardrobes, Gweyir is greeted by a shriek of a bat as it flutters out, startling Anton. The elf doesn't seem bothered, and ignores the bat as it flies out of the room, fleeing its uexpected new housemates. She picks up a few vials from a rack in one of the wardrobe drawers. "Healing potions, I think," she relays, examining the bottled red liquid.

The jewelry box that Anton pointed out is made of solid silver, with gold filigree. Were there anyone to sell it to, he would be right; this sort of thing would sell for near a hundred gold coins, easily, even if it's empty. The drawers of the vanity table contain nothing but old, dried makeup in a wooden case and two bottles of perfume.

Two things catch Kellon's attention. The first is the mockingly small door, which opens to a small shaft that seems to run down to lower levels of the house. It's musty and damp inside, and stinks of mold and mildew. A rope and pulley system hangs in the middle of the shaft and there is a small button on the wall next to the door. Anton comments, "That's a dumbwaiter. You press the button and it rings a bell down in the kitchen, then they use it to send up food." He picks up the jug and holds it for Kellon to look at, stretching out his arms so as not to share too much floor space. "This may be of use as well. An alchemy jug (https://www.aidedd.org/dnd/om.php?vo=alchemy-jug), able to produce many mundane liquids. Fresh water, salt water, oil. Beer if this place has left you in need of a drink." The man chuckles.

The other thing that Kellon notices is that the threads of the webbing in the ceiling hole are much thicker than the ordinary spider-spun cobwebs.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon listens to Anton's explanation of the strange doorway and grunts in surprise. That must have meant that not only had a family been here, but also servants working further down. It is much more fancy than what Kellon is used to.

Mindful of the floor, Kellon stretches his arms out as well and hefts the strange-looking device while Anton what it is. Kellon nods his approval. "Now that sounds useful. If this can make drink, that means I won't have to worry about invoking water." Kellon places it back on the table, fulling intending to come back for it later.

Looking up through the hole in the ceiling, Kellon asks Gweyir, "How big do you think the spider is that made webbing such as that?"

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir comes out from around the corner and sets the rack of potion vials on the bed. She looks up at the webbing, which Anton makes a point to back away from when Kellon mentions 'spiders' and 'size'.

"More than a dog, less than a house," the elf answers. "If need be, I have a spell that can pacify one. I doubt there would be more than one in a home like this, giant spiders tend to be solitary unless there's a Queen or drow involved. Not enough room for one of those, but maybe the 'duskies' they mentioned are drow elves?"

"Oh, are you an elf?" Anton asks, from the other side of the bed. "You don't fit the lore at all... would you mind if I ask you questions later, for scholarly purposes?"

"One thing at a time," Gweyir shakes her head. "Anyways, it should leave us alone if we leave it alone. Just don't go poking the webs."

[Prehysterical]

Given his propensity for the elements, Kellon has always respected druids and Gweyir proves to be a more and more useful ally by the minute. "We shall have to keep our eyes and earholes open." He shrugs at the mention of drow. "Perhaps, but they are the least of our worries right now.

All right, we should move on. This can be where we rest once we have inspected the rest of this level. On to the next room. I will bring up the rear."

[RandomWombat]

The group shuffles out of the room, after Gweyir plucks out the red potions and tucks them in her belt pouch. She opens the nearest door to the master bedroom, revealing a bathroom. There is a chamberpot - thankfully empty - in the corner, along with a wooden tub with clawed, metal feet. Lying in the tub nowadays would be less pleasant than in its heyday, as the wood is splintered and soggy. There is a barrel nearby with a spigot attached to a pipe above it, likely leading to some kind of receptacle for rainwater on the roof.

Unfortunately for Kellon if he fancied a dip, Gweyir tests the spigot and finds that the plumbing is no longer working, for whatever reason. Anton moves on from the room and waits in the landing where the armor had been, watching the other doors. The next one Gweyir opens leads to a small storage closet. Folded sheets and blankets seem to have escaped the predation of moths, and a basket full of bars of soap sits on the floor. A wooden broom leans against the far wall.

Lastly comes the final door on the landing. It leads to a far more modest, but elegantly simple bedroom with a second set of glass doors leading out to another balcony. A crisscrossing wooden fence with a latch separates the room from a smaller adjoining nursery, with a crib surrounded by a hanging black shroud and some small baby toys lying on the ground.

The bedroom contains a double bed, a tall mirror with patterns of ivy and berries along its border, a few end tables, and a simple wooden writing desk. There is yet another fireplace here, for those cold Barovian nights.

[Prehysterical]

After being tossed from a ship and dealing with unnatural Fog for most of the day, Kellon is just fine missing out on a bath. Honestly, he is thankful that, for moment, the tub is the most dangerous thing that they have come across since the armor.

Kellon enters the room after Gweyir, looking around and examining the furniture. He is not just interested in anything that might be immediately useful. There might be clues about the family or the layout of the house.
Perception rolls
[roll0]
[roll1]

[RandomWombat]

In his search of the room, Kellon opens up the writing desk and finds a small black book inside, a diary. The parchment pages are old and water damaged, but he can make out a few sections. It is the diary of a nursemaid working for the Durst family, her name lost to time.

I have seen the dim look in Gustav's eyes, the dour scowl he wears whenever his wife is not looking. They were so happy once, but she grows more and more obsessed with her readings and her 'ceremonies' in the basement. More than once they have forgotten to feed the children in their room. Thank the Morninglord they have me.

Forgive me, my Lord of Light, for I have committed grave sin. I pray that Elisabeth never finds out. Gustav was so sad, and full of tears. When at last his handsome face smiled again, I thought, what harm could there be? Perhaps if he returned to his old self, the children would be better off.

The lady of the house has grown so much worse. Guests over at dark hours, gatherings in the basement herald unearthly howls from below. The children are petrified. And I've become so swollen, it's only a matter of time until she notices. What will she do with me?

Praise you for Gustav's protection, my Lord of Light. Were it not for he, I fear the lady would have had me stoned in the street, or worse, dragged below to whatever hideous revelry she partakes. Even still, I fear for my life. She wants me dead, commanded Gustav to be rid of me by morning and he looked so afraid of her. Walter. I must flee with my Walter.

There are no entries past that one. Kellon notices a few old bloodstains on the corner of the desk.

Looking up from the desk, he spots a hidden hole in the wall behind the mirror. It looks as though something were thrown through the thin boards, and the mirror hung up to hide the hole until repairs that never happened. Moving it aside, he sees a small alcove, with another hidden door built into the wall across the way, into the landing. To his left is a set of rickety wooden stairs leading up to an attic.

Anton meanders into the room, peeking into the nursery. He unlatches the wooden fence and steps inside to take a look. And when he approaches the crib - that's when the flames within their enclosed lamps flicker for a moment, the room's ambient light darkening. A chill runs down Kellon's spine as he sees the glass of the mirror and windows frost over.

"WAAAAAALTEEEEER!" a shriek like the heavens themselves were thrown open, and a hurricane wind rips through the room, flapping curtains and sending the pages of the diary flapping open. The mirror cracks and shatters, frosted fragments of glass scattering across the floor. Kellon turns around and sees a figure of a woman, skeleton thin and wrapped in a tattered night gown. It flaps around her in the wicked wind. He cannot see her face from his side, but her eyes are trained on a terrified Anton. "DO NOT TOUCH MY WAALTEER!"

Anton swiftly holds out his wand and waves it at her. "Stay back! Suffosio!" The spell does not seem to cause her any distress, but the Nursemaid falters and falls to a knee with another horrible shriek.

Gweyir sets one hand against the floor and calls out, "Ignitum!" Streaks of mana shoot out from her fingers and form a circle beneath the specter, igniting in a blaze. Despite the flame's heat being felt even by Kellon, it does not seem to catch on the floorboards.

And so the second combat (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6d8JWq0N-r4) begins. The effects that herald her appearance mean no Surprise condition.

Anton: 18
Gweyir: 17
Kellon: 8
The Nursemaid: 8

Anton casts 'Suffosio'. The ghost is immune to necrotic damage, but is knocked Prone by his spell.
Gweyir casts (Kellon Arcana: Create Bonfire (http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:create-bonfire)) under the ghost, dealing 2 fire damage.
It is Kellon's turn.

[Prehysterical]

As he reads through the diary, several pieces of the puzzle click into place. An illegitimate child with the nursemaid, though it sounds like the wife's unholy rituals had nothing to do with the infant's birth...

Setting the book down, Kellon notices the edge of the hole behind the mirror. Revealing the hidden room and stairs behind the desk, Kellon wonders what could have created such a hole.

Before Kellon can point out his discovery, Anton wanders into the nursery and the temperature in the room visibly drops. Kellon feels his scales prickle as the flames dim and the glass frosts over. The shattering glass and wailing banshee scream turn Kellon's blood to ice as the former nursemaid materializes in the room with them. It's like the Tempest itself made manifest in a ghostly apparition of fury.

His mind races as the others lash out at the spirit and Kellon raises a hand in supplication. "STOP! CEASE, ALL OF YOU!" Grabbing his holy symbol, Kellon invokes, "In the name of the Tempest and the Morning Lord, we come to avenge you, madam!"
Going to try a Hail Mary Persuasion check
[roll0]
[roll1]
Welp, I tried.

[RandomWombat]

"THERE WILL BE NO MORNING... IN A WORLD WITHOUT MY WALTER!" the spirit shrieks, surging forward towards Anton. Before Kellon can properly ready his warhammer again, she escapes his reach, standing and gliding across the floor into the gap left by the opened nursery fence. Her cold hands reach out to grab Anton by the throat, but he ducks and weaves around her grasp.

Anton waves his wand, casting his spell again and sending her to her knees. Gweyir closes her eyes and focuses on the spell, causing the circle to shift across the floor. The old flames go out and new ones erupt, though they barely seem to singe her spectral form.

I will assume that Kellon will make an AoO as she leaves his threatened area. However, the attack misses.

Fortunately, the ghost also misses Anton.

Anton casts Suffosio again, knocking the ghost Prone.
Gweyir moves her bonfire onto the ghost's new location, dealing 1 fire damage.
It is Kellon's turn again.

[Prehysterical]

Sadly, the spirit seems too consumed by rage. Kellon knows better than to try and use his hammer, so he instead points at the ghost. "Skyfire!"
Kellon casts Sacred Flame on the nursemaid.

[RandomWombat]

The flames cascade down, but seem to dissipate in the presence of the woman's aura, unable to overcome. She doesn't seem to bother getting up, grasping manically at Anton's ankles. Her long-nailed, thin hand finds purchase and a grey rot begins to spread up his pantleg - and judging from the look of agony on Anton's face, the flesh below. His skin soon turns pale as black veins spider up his neck and down his arms to his hands, and he drops his wand and lamp. The lamp shatters and the flame within is swiftly snuffed by the spectral wind.

Trying to keep the ghost in the fire, Gweyir runs up behind her and stabs the silver sword into her form. "Get off of him!"

The ghost's Dex save succeeds against Sacred Flame, despite me giving her Disadvantage for being Prone. RIP

The ghost uses her draining touch on Anton, dealing 16 necrotic damage and knocking him unconscious. The ghost fails her Dex save against continued bonfire, taking 1 fire damage.

Anton fails one Death Save. Two more failed saves and he will perish.
Gweyir moves up and attacks, dealing 3 damage to the specter after resistance.
It is now Kellon's turn again, and this will likely be my last post for most of the night. Running a session game soon, so got to get food and get ready.

[Prehysterical]

Perhaps the sky's fire does not burn as hot as Kellon thinks... Urgency spurs Kellon as the ghost seizes Anton and he collapses. Only the ghost's own wind stops a fire from erupting in the building. Kellon moves up beside Gweyir and holds his hammer aloft. "Sunburst!"
Understood. Kellon casts Word of Radiance focused on the nursemaid.

[RandomWombat]

From his aloft warhammer, a golden gleam like the sun on a clear ocean morn shines down around him. The spirit hisses and recoils from the light. "MY LOOORD, MY LORD HAS FORSAKEN ME," the spirit laments with a wail as she lashes out, swiping weakly at Kellon with her twisted, clawed hand, the freezing air from it passing in front of his chest sending chills through his body - but it does not make contact.

Gweyir speaks in a projected whisper as she takes another swing at the ghost, passing her blade through the arm reaching for Kellon. The blade does little damage, passing through and leaving the arm to reform behind it. "Anton, rise up, your fight is not yet over!" At her command, laced with magic, Anton gasps. Color returning to his once grey and lifeless face. The ghost has not yet noticed his return, her new focus upon Kellon and his burning light.

Kellon casts Hand of Radiance, dealing 6 radiant damage to the ghost.

The ghost takes a swing at Kellon, but misses. She takes another 1 fire damage.

Anton fails a second Death Save.
Gweyir casts Healing Word as a bonus action, healing Anton for 6 and restoring him to consciousness. She then attacks the ghost, hitting for 1 damage.
It is now Kellon's turn again.

[Prehysterical]

"It is you who have forsaken him through your rage, madam! CEASE! Sunburst!"
Another Word of Radiance.

[RandomWombat]

The light sears her face, but her expression twists again from anguish to rage as she finally forces herself to her feet, rising against the light. The gaunt, ghostly flesh of her face peels away into a macabre skull as she opens her bony jaw and reaches for Kellon. But in spite of her defiance, the holy light from his icon of faith stays her hand and holds her back.

Behind her, Anton rises to his feet, the fear and naive inexperience that had laced his face for much of the exploration fading away into the sheer rush of adrenaline, the deep rooted wild instinct kicking in. He pulls a pen from his front pocket and pops off part of it, revealing a gleaming silver knife hidden inside, which he jabs into the back of the ghost's head. She is momentarily stunned by the attack from behind, and before she can react Gweyir capitalizes by driving her own blade through the spirit in a diagonal cut.

Too weakened to maintain her form, the ghost's shrieks drown and choke into a whimper, as she burns away, fading in the flames. The bonfire soon vanishes alongside her, as Gweyir dismisses the magic.

Panting and shaking with adrenaline still running through him, Anton points at the ground where the spirit had been and helpfully clarifies, "That was a ghost."

Forgoing any snappy comment, Gweyir steps forwards and checks Anton over, but he seems mostly alright. "You need to be more careful. That thing nearly killed you." It takes the man a few minutes to catch his breath as Gweyir helps him sit down against the wall.

"I think it should have," finally able to respond, Anton reaches into his jacket and pulls out what looks like a small lifelike effigy of himself. It looks withered and shriveled, the skin grey and covered in black veins as he was. "A sacrificial effigy. Took the death that was meant for me, but... I would have died regardless if not for you. You have my thanks." He regards the spent doll and sets it on the ground, picking up his wand instead. "She was a specter. A ghost held back by fear, regret, sorrow. Very near to growing into a true banshee, judging by her shrieks." Sorting out the scientific data seems to be helping him calm down and recompose himself.

The ghost fails her save, but takes only 1 radiant damage this time.

The ghost stands and attacks Kellon, but misses. She takes no damage from the bonfire this turn.

Anton stands up and draws a weapon, attacking. He Flanks with Gweyir, granting him Advantage on the attack, which critically hits for 3 damage.
Gweyir attacks the ghost, hitting for 5 damage, which is enough to finish it off.

Combat has ended.

[Prehysterical]

Some semblance of warmth begins to return as the angry spirit is forcefully banished. Kellon lets out a weary sigh as Anton states the obvious in his delirious mind. While Gweyir checks up on their human, Kellon moves back over to the desk and moves it back in place to cover the hole. He gives a disapproving look out of the corner of his eye as Anton reveals the effigy. It reminds him too much of some of the vile voodoo magic that he has seen practiced among some cannibal tribes on the isles.

"She was the nursemaid of the family here. Caretaker of the children that we saw earlier and no doubt murdered by the wife. May Lathander have mercy on her..." Leaning slightly on the desk, but being careful not to put too much weight in one area, Kellon relents, "No more. We need a rest. You two go on back to the master bedroom. I will be right behind you."

After the two others leave the room, Kellon inspects the nursery that was so fiercely guarded.

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir helps Anton up and guides him away, leaving the hexed doll lying on the floor. Kellon steps into the smaller room, shifting aside toy blocks with letters on them, or small rattles filled with what sounds like sand. He reaches the crib, covered with a black veil, like one worn by a mourner.

Parting the veil reveals a baby-sized bundle of cloth lying in the soft cushions of the crib. But when pulled aside, the cloth reveals nothing inside but a wooden doll. Wherever Walter may be, he is not sleeping soundly in his crib as the ghost had believed in her madness.

Just when it seems all was for naught, Kellon spies something inside the bundled cloth. A small card, which by appearances is from some fortune telling deck Kellon is not familiar with. The card's name, displayed upon its face, is the Ghost. It portrays a hideous spectral figure crawling across the ground.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon is not sure whether he truly desires to know the babe's fate. Of all the things he had expected to find, a fortuneteller's card was not one of them. He picks it up and heads back ponderously to the master bedroom.

The tortle moves to the right side of the room and begins using the alchemy jug to pour fresh water into the clean bowl on the table. "Are you all right, lad? Er, rather, do you still need a blessing? I'd prefer you to be fully free of the undertow."

[RandomWombat]

As he walks back, Kellon sees that someone has tossed the rotting tiger skin rug outside onto the landing.

Gweyir is seated in the larger, padded chair in the corner of the room near the fireplace when he arrives, while Anton is sitting in front of the vanity rubbing his face with his handkerchief. It takes him a moment to realize Kellon is talking to him, then he sits up and sets the kerchief down, looking over. "Huh? Oh. I think I'm alright, yes. Everything is where it ought to be," his eyes drift down to the bowl of water. "Could use a splash of cold water, when you are done with it. I ah, will take first watch, if we're going to sleep here. Don't think I can sleep yet."

"Nnngh, I could really use some time to meditate," the elf states tiredly in her armchair.

[Prehysterical]

While Kellon is glad he doesn't have to smell rotten tiger anymore, the Mist could just have as easily taken advantage of the open door and killed them faster than the ghost would have. It didn't, though, so no point crying into the ocean.

Once the container is suitably full, Kellon sets down the jug and lifts the bowl up to drink. Without any lips, he has had to practice tipping his head back and tipping coconuts and the like at just the right angle for the liquid to pour directly into his open mouth. Clear, fresh water earns a sigh of contentment from the tortle. Water that wasn't trying to kill him... That was a nice change. Setting the bowl down, Kellon removes the pack from his back and begins searching through it. As he scrounges, Kellon remarks, "You should get some food and water in you, Gweyir. You need to get your strength back. Rest with dehydration is hardly rest at all." He seriously hopes his rations survived the wreck...

[RandomWombat]

"Water's easy enough with the magic jug. But I lost all my things in the wreck," she answers, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Kellon searches through his pack and finds the package of trail rations inside. Soggy as they are, they should still be edible, but they won't last long in this state without getting moldy.

"Let me take a look," Gweyir waves him over and looks at the soiled rations. Holding out her hand, she begins performing arcane gestures over it, slowly drying it section by section. "A little bit of high elf prestidigitation," she says as she works through it.

"Did you say you two were in a wreck?" Anton asks, turning his chair around with a scraping on the floor.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon sets the rations out on the table one by one. He had packed about ten days' worth for the journey, more than enough if something went wrong... At least, that was the intent. It would not last nearly as long between three people. Thankfully, Gweyir seems more than up for the task.

He explains to Anton, "Aye. We were part of a crew of pirate hunters, tracking the brigands across the sea. A storm overtook us out of nowhere. Not even I had any inkling of it." Kellon sounds incredulous at the admission. "One second, bright open sunny skies, then waves like walls, rain coming down like ocean spray, and a forest of lightning with thunder to match. Our ship struck rock and we were all cast into the air." He turns to Gweyir. "Did anyone else even survive the impact?"

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir thinks it over. "Before I hit the water, I saw you and the captain both get tossed overboard. I don't know if anyone else survived the impact, but if we both ended up here the captain may have as well."

"So you washed up here from a shipwreck. Curious..." raising a hand to his chin, Anton runs it up and down the cleft in the center. "I myself was invited. A letter was sent to me by a Lord from Bavaria... or, Barovia? I assumed he had simply misspelt Bavaria. He knew of my profession and wished me to appraise some occult artifacts he had come into the possession of," the man explains. "The Lord was named Strahd von Zarovich. The messenger, who also brought me here via carriage, was a man named Arrigal. Though I lost track of him in the Mist soon after we arrived in the village."

[Prehysterical]

"We barely escaped ahead of the Mist. It's very possible that even if the captain survived, the Mist might have gotten him. Best not lose sleep over it."

Kellon fixes Anton with a curious gaze. "So, we were brought here unwillingly, but you were invited? Why would this Arrigal leave you to the mercy of the Mist if he brought you here? Did he describe the artifacts at all?"

[RandomWombat]

"I'm afraid not," he responds with a slow drift of his head from side to side. "Arrigal certainly didn't seem concerned when the Mist started rolling in, but some of the locals told me it was cursed and to get inside."

"... Do you mind if I have some?" Gweyir asks, motioning with a hand to the trail rations she'd dried out.

[Prehysterical]

A scoff greets Anton's answer. "Some host, if he doesn't warn you about the Mist that can kill you."

Kellon nods agreeably. "That was the intent, lass. Please, eat up." He grabs one of the other rations and begins crunching into it himself with his beak. After the hell that they have gone through, it's like eating a banquet meal.

[RandomWombat]

Picking up a handful of dried foodstuffs, Gweyir pours them into her mouth and chews, leaning her head back again in relief. Since the others are eating as well, Anton brings out a container from a messenger bag at his waist and opens it up. Inside is a piece of bread and some sort of spread in a jar, which he begins applying with a knife, using the vanity as a table. "Would either of you care for some marmalade?" he asks.

"Sounds fancy. I'll take a bit, sure."

Anton brings out a spoon and scoops some of it out, offering the utensil to her. She brings it to her mouth for a taste and nods in approval. "Thas pretty good."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon eats with the quick efficiency of someone who views eating as a necessity and not a luxury. Once he downs the rest of that pack of rations, Kellon pours himself another bowl of water and glugs it down to cleanse his palate. When Anton offers the marmalade, Kellon eyes it dubiously. "I'll stick to what I know, thank you. Could be poison to tortlefolk, for all I know."

Having satisfied his immediate needs, Kellon gingerly squats and goes to all fours before setting his shell down on the floor. "I'm done with the water; use it as you need it. Anton, wake me in a few hours for my watch." With an almost cartoonish popping sound, Kellon withdraws into his shell for some rest. Minus the poor condition of the wood, the wooden floor is no worse than the paneling of a ship.

[RandomWombat]

"A fair reason if ever there was," Anton admits, getting up to retrieve the jug and bowl, pouring some more water. As Kellon settles in to rest, the other two finish eating and hydrating themselves, and Gweyir folds her legs up on the chair with her to meditate with a quiet hum.

Taking a sleep, the party regains their hit points and spell slots, and each recover from 1 level of Fatigue - for whom it is relevant.

Sleep comes easily, tired as Kellon is after the effects of the Mist. Alas, when he's awakened for his watch shift, he can tell from the windows and the balcony outside that it has not dissipated. Someone is gently rocking his shell from outside. "Erm. Kellon? Can you hear me?"

[Prehysterical]

Despite the horror of the day's events, sheer exhaustion draws Kellon into a dreamless slumber. The rocking of his shell has Kellon poke his head out to regard Anton. "Ugh, aye. I can hear you, lad. Damned Mist has not left us, I see. You best find a good spot to lie down before I change my mind about relieving you," he remarks wryly. Just a few hours of rest has done wonders for the tortle's mind, but he won't mind returning to the depths of sleep.
Can Kellon prepare his spells during his watch?

[RandomWombat]

He can, yes.

Anton returns to the vanity and closes a book with a fancy pattern on the cover, fastening a lock. Tucking it back in his bag, he walks over to the bed and climbs in, it would appear he has no compunctions about sleeping in the abandoned bed of some missing cultists.

With the adrenaline finally purged from his system, Anton passes out very quickly. Gweyir is still softly humming in her chair.

As an elf, Gweyir takes less time to rest than most. Normally long resting twice in a row doesn't really do a lot... but she gladly continues meditation, for that sweet, sweet Fatigue recovery.

For the first half, Kellon's shift goes uneventfully. Then he hears a quiet creaking sound, and small snapping sounds like tiny threads being pulled apart.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon hardly faults Anton for wanting to sleep on the bed. Warmbloods have such soft skin and this is far from prime wooden flooring. During his vigil, Kellon invokes the Tempest and the elements to renew the storm in his shell for the coming day.

He snaps to attention at the sound of movement. His warhammer raises as he warns, "Wake up, you two." Kellon's voice is low but firm, the rumbling of a distant storm approaching and heralding trouble.

[RandomWombat]

Cracking open her eyes, Gweyir unfolds her legs and stands up. She was never really asleep, and so ready to respond at a moment's notice. Anton on the other hand groans and rolls over onto his back, forcing himself up into a seated position off the side of the bed. He makes a quiet, inquisitive grunt.

Seemingly not frightened of his rumbling, a figure starts to droop down from the hole in the ceiling, parting the webbing. A hairy arachnid head dips into the room, mandibles twitching and eight beady black eyes staring into the room.

Then, perhaps the most unexpected thing happens.

"Hello!" chirps a cheerful, soft toned voice from the arachnid perched above.

[Prehysterical]

As the spider descends, Kellon keeps a firm grip on his warhammer. He is visibly taken aback when the spider not only speaks, but arguably with more warmth than any other greeting in this land. Kellon gives a significant look to Gweyir. She had volunteered to be the "spider whisperer" and Kellon was prepared to follow her lead.

[RandomWombat]

The elf seems as baffled as Kellon as she stands and walks where she can get a better view of their guest. Anton doesn't seem to have realized what's talking yet, with the veils and curtains of the bed in the way. "Oh, did we find another person? Or them find us, rather." He yawns, holding a hand over his mouth.

"I'm going to go with a solid maybe," Gweyir answers. She waves at the spider, which droops a mandible down, mimicking her motion upsidedown. "Hello there. Sorry if this is rude, but how can you talk?"

"With my mouth, silly!" the spider chirps, followed by a high pitched clicking noise something like chopsticks being tapped together... or spider laughter?

"Of course, how silly of me," she reaches back and rubs the back of her head, looking at Kellon and only offering him a shrug. "Do you live in this house?"

"Yes! I used to live outside but now I live here. There aren't as many things to eat here. Do you know the way out?"

[Prehysterical]

This place only brings stranger and stranger things... Kellon brings himself into the conversation. "Yes, we do, but the Mist is unfortunately keeping us in here. Even if we needed to go outside right this minute, we would be dead in less time than it would take for us to have walked down the stairs to the door."

Kellon examines the spider's demeanor closely. "You said there weren't many things to eat in here... What have you been eating, exactly? Do you have a name?"
Insight: [roll0]

[RandomWombat]

"Oh, that's not good," the spider laments in a disappointed voice that doesn't last long before its bright demeanor returns. "I eat the bats, and the rats, and sometimes the dead bodies!"

"Dead bodies? Other people have died here? Did you kill them?" cautiously, Gweyir questions the spider further. Anton finally leans out from behind the bed curtains to see what's going on and looks up in fascination.

"So many things I've never seen before. Such a curious, if terrifying place," he murmurs to himself, audibly.

"I don't kill people, that would be very rude! Unless they try to stab me. One tried to stab me. I tried to tell him not to, but he wouldn't listen! It was very sad," after its lamentations are finished, the spider answers Kellon's other question. "I'm Spider! What are you?"

"I am Anton. Do you mind if I try something? It'll tingle a little, I just need you not to resist." Bringing up his fingers, Anton forms them into a shape of a rectangle, as if framing an image of the spider in the hole above.

"Okay!"

"Hey, you're not going to hurt it are you?" Gweyir steps up and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm Gweyir, an elf. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Gweyir An Elf and Anton!"

"Of course I'm not going to hurt it," Anton answers. A small field of purple light begins to shimmer between his fingers, like a pane of glass, and his eyes glow in the same hue. With a somewhat disappointed frown, he lowers his hands. "... Well, it's no demon or devil in a disguise. Its True name is... Spider."

[Prehysterical]

The spider truly seems innocuous. Kellon slings his warhammer back into its halter as Anton attempts more of his strange magic. The purple light of his shows more witchery and Kellon grows ever more concerned about how Anton has gone about acquiring his powers. Focusing on the moment, Kellon clacks his claws on his plastron as he gives a slight bow to Spider. "I am Kellon. My people are the tortles. We are strangers to this land of Barovia." His mind races with questions, but Kellon focuses on being diplomatic in this case. "We don't have much in the way of liquid food, but could we interest you in some water? It seems like the plumbing in the building has gone dry."

[RandomWombat]

"Barovia? I never heard of it, nope." At the mention of water, the spider lowers itself down to the floor by a strand of white webbing and lands, crawling over to Kellon. Its limbs make a sort of eerie creaking sound when they move, the same sound he heard moving above them on the next floor up before its appearance. "I'd like some water please! Thank you, you're very cute!" it says gratefully.

Anton takes a few steps back, as the group has started to cluster together and the floor groans a bit under the weight. "I've certainly never heard of anything like this. Highly unusual. Do you think Spider is a native of Barovia, or lost like ourselves?"

Gweyir shifts from one foot from the other, seemingly resisting the urge to get a closer look at the spider now that it's down there with them. 'Spider' has a large body - comparatively speaking, to ordinary spiders - about the size of a larger dog like a mastiff. "I'm still only an apprentice, but none of the druids of my circle spoke of anything like this. A few awakened animals, perhaps, but nobody was ever said to have awakened something like a giant spider."

"Don't worry, you didn't wake me up," the spider reassures her. "I woke up to go hunting for prey! A bat got caught in my webs in the higher place."

[Prehysterical]

How can something be so unsettling and yet endearing at the same time? Kellon found the question turned on himself when Spider compliments him. Of all the things that Kellon has ever been called, "cute" was limited to only his own parents. While Anton and Gweyir discuss academics, Kellon gingerly makes his way across the floor past Spider. They need to redistribute the weight. It's also necessary so that Kellon can access the table in the corner and use the alchemy jug to pour some water for Spider. Once Kellon fills the bowl up, he sets it on the floor for Spider's easy access. "Tell me about the man that tried to stab you. Was he part of the family that lived in this house? Or did he come in alone like you did? Have you seen anything strange, like dead things that are not dead or anything that howls?"

[RandomWombat]

Spider dips its head into the bowl of water and happily starts lapping it up, making little tiny waves in the water. It's silent for the moment, as it drinks. Then Spider comes up for air and immediately begins talking again. "I don't think he lived in the house. Oh no! Did I invade his nest!" the spider's tone shifts to worried distress. "Was that why he was stabbing me? I must have been really, really bad."

"Sshh, sshh, calm down. Can you tell us what the man was like first? We've seen what the... nest owner looks like," Gweyir takes a seat on corner of the bed as she talks, trying to comfort the worried spider.

"Oooh, well he had a face with a nose. And he had hair. Really really long hair, all over his face, but none of it on his head. And he was small and wide. And he had a big long stick that was glowing and had a poking bit like a sharp stinger at the end."

Taking in spider's description, Gweyir nods along. "Well, I don't think you hurt the nest owner, so don't worry. The master of the house had no big long hair on his face." She looks up to Kellon and shifts out of her softer, kid talk tone from dealing with Spider. "It sounds like it was a dwarf."

While they talk, Anton takes a seat at the table and opens up a small personal journal similar to the one the nursemaid had, beginning to jot things down in it.

[Prehysterical]

The village seemed to consist of only humans, from what Kellon had seen. Perhaps the dwarf had been another outlander like them? He had a suspicion that searching through the dwarf's belongings would likely bring some answers. Looking back down at Spider, Kellon asks, "Spider, it is very nice to meet you, but we need to get some rest. We were in the Mist earlier, you see, and Gweyir here was very sick from being in it. We would be happy to talk more later, but we need to get some sleep. Would you mind if we come up to the attic later? The above space? We are trying to figure out what happened to the nest owners."

[RandomWombat]

"Okay, Kellon! You can visit my attic nest anytime, new friends!" Spider cheerfully affirms. It dips its head again and drinks most of the rest of the water in the bowl before it goes. Crawling around Kellon back under the hole in the ceiling, it shoots out a web above and starts to lift off. "I'm going to eat more bats and bugs and get a nice breakfast! Sleep tight, eat very good bedbugs!"

"Um, have a good breakfast," Anton looks up from his book and waves. Spider waves a mandible again, as it did with Gweyir's greeting, before ascending back into the ceiling. "What a pleasant little fellow."

Getting up from the corner of the bed, Gweyir returns to her chair and sits once more. "It's kind of nice to see a friendly face for once, in this place. Even if it's a spider face."

[Prehysterical]

Were he capable of it, Kellon would be smiling as he waves farewell to Spider. In response to Gweyir's remark, Kellon responds, "I'll take that spider over this entire village so far. This one only takes what it needs and doesn't judge by appearances." Turning his gaze to Anton, Kellon suggests, "Well, you should get back to sleep, Anton, unless you are now so taken with your little book that that's impossible. One of us will be sleeping, whichever way."

[RandomWombat]

"I think I'm too awake to get back to sleep at this point," Anton answers tapping his fingers on the desk. "Go ahead and get some rest. I'm recording some things in my journal."

With no complaints for Anton volunteering to run a second shift, Gweyir folds her legs back up to return to her meditations. "May as well. We don't want to sit around too long."

Since Spider interrupted the second half of the rest, they'll finish the rest now - and Gweyir finish her second rest.

That's it for me tonight, got to turn in for work tomorrow. Probably not much posting will happen tomorrow, Tuesdays are busy ones for me.

[Prehysterical]

The others may be too wired, but Kellon happily goes back to rest. A few hours later, he wakes up feeling completely refreshed and ready to take on whatever the house has to offer... barring any surprise dragons or archfiends.

Before things get rolling, there is one thing Kellon wants investigated. He carefully approaches Anton and flashes him the Ghost card from earlier. "You seem to deal in sorceries. Can you tell me anything about this?"

[RandomWombat]

The rest is welcome to weary bones, but soon comes to an end. The Mist has not retreated, and many dark forces still lurk in the corners of this house of death. Hearing Kellon stir, Gweyir stands from her chair and stretches, working out any remaining stiffness from her time in meditation.

Looking up from his writing, Anton closes the little journal and reaches up to take the card in hand. "How fortuitous! Earlier this... well, can't tell if it's morning, but let's say morning for convenience's sake. I prepared and memorized an Identification spell, in case we should find anything cursed in this place." Setting the card down on the table in front of him, bringing his hands together with his fingers and thumbs in the shape of a rectangle, much as he had before. This time a shimmering sheet of green light takes form between his hands, and glows behind his eyes.

"Hm...!" the magician hums in a pleased tone. "Not exactly cursed, but not exactly not cursed either. It appears to be part of a set. Something in it calls to others, a greater whole." Picking up the card, Anton turns it over to examine the other side. The back of the card is inlaid with strings of silver in flowing patterns around its edges, and in the center is a stylized silver sphere that gleams like a full moon. "According to my Naming Magic, this is the Ghost, one of a set known as Mother Night's Tarokka Deck... what those words mean is anyone's guess. I can conjure names, but not what they mean."

Finally, he hands the card back to Kellon. "As to its effects, one who attunes to it will be able to call upon its power to speak to corpses, and ask them questions. For a time, it can also allow the bearer to walk as spirits do. On the other hand, its connection to the other side means that the bearer can be turned by holy powers as those same spirits."

Kellon has obtained The Ghost, one of a set of magical Tarokka cards (https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AxDm5jOt2T_-QtH2ZU-WKsqPrBsz2gL7bl587kGMCtc/edit?usp=sharing).

(A cleric bearer is not affected by their own Turning, only that of others)

[Prehysterical]

Kellon regards the card as he would an orca: respectful of both its power and its potential to cause problems. He stashes it in his belt pouch before heading back to the table to get himself some more fresh water. Sated, Kellon makes sure to grab his oil lamp. "Well, might as well be thorough today. I will be heading up to the attic to inspect it... I am sure that Spider will be glad for the company. You are welcome to stay or come with. The dead dwarf might be up there, Anton, and it sounds like he had some magical items on him."

[RandomWombat]

Anton nods, collecting the alchemy jug and carrying it under one arm. "Certainly. May as well bring this along, don't want to lose track of it!" He falls in step behind Kellon - but not too close.

Taking up the rear, Gweyir adjusts her belt to slip the silver sword's scabbard into it. "I may as well accompany you as well. I'd rather not wander alone around this place."

Together they cross through the landing above the stairs, where the stinking tiger rug is still lying there. Now that he knows where it is, Kellon easily shifts the false wall out of the way, opening up the path to the attic. The wooden stairs creak as he walks up, and one of them is too worn and rotten - snaps beneath him, sending his leg down through. But the others hold and he is able to pull himself up the rest of the way. The two behind him skip over the missing step.

At the top of the stairway is a door, which they enter. On the other side is no fancy landing or hall, but a dusty wooden hallway absolutely covered in webbing that sticks to Kellon's feet. The web-covered hole from below is right ahead. If there is any blessing here, Spider's webs appear to be helping hold the place together, and the wooden floor stops creaking.

There are a few other doors in the attic. One of them stands out, nearest to the hole in the floor, because the lock is on the outside, not the inside.

"Hewo fwens!" Spider speaks with its mouth full, coming around the corner with a limp rat hanging from its mandibles slowly being drained into a desiccated husk of rat jerky as the arachnid drinks its insides.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon's heart stops for a split second when one of the stairs breaks underneath of him, but heaves a sigh of relief when the rest hold. He will be a very happy tortle when he is out of this damnable place.

Mindful of Spider's presence, Kellon refrains from complaining about the feeling of sticky webbing against his claws. Somehow, it's less offensive than the foul dew they ran through yesterday. Besides, it is a small price to pay for not crashing through the ceiling.

Kellon gives a small wave of greeting to Spider's welcome, trying not to look too closely as Spider enjoys its meal. "Hello again, Spider. Please, don't mind us; we are just going to check these rooms up here." As Kellon makes for the door opposite of the locked door, he asks the other two adventurers, "I don't suppose either of you have a lockpick?"

[RandomWombat]

To clarify, it's one of those deadbolt locks that you turn, not a padlock or keyed lock. The turning bit is on the outside, allowing it to be locked and unlocked from the outside.

"I do not, no," Anton answers as he follows, struggling a little to step through the webbing - he is not as physically strong as Kellon and Gweyir. The elf shakes her head as well, and leans down to pat Spider on the back, seemingly not disturbed by its eating. Such is nature's way after all.

"It's nice to see you got a good breakfast, Spider."

"Yup!" Spider finishes its meal and sets the rat down. Kellon feels the crunch of more bones beneath his feet, leftovers from past meals. True to its word, there are no human (or human-like) remains among them. The dwarf's remains aren't in the hallway either.

Opening the door at the end of the hall, Kellon finds a dirty old guest room that doesn't seem to have been in use when it was abandoned, all of the sheets and bedding folded up and put away in a wardrobe. There is a slender bed, a nightstand, a wood-burning iron stove, a writing desk with a wooden stool, and a rocking chair. In the window box sits a smiling doll in a yellow dress, cobwebs adorning her like a wedding veil draped down her back.

Lying on the unmade bed are shriveled, mummified remains of a dwarf, his dried and peeled skin partially eaten by other insects since Spider laid him to rest. Across the chest of his body is a spear, the head of which is glowing with a white light and adorned with the symbol of the blazing anvil of Moradin. He is clad in ring mail that is still in decent condition.

Crawling up behind Kellon, Spider tugs at the bottom of his backpack. "You are looking for lock wigglers?" it asks. "I know how to do the wiggling using little bones!"

[Prehysterical]

Fortunately, the bottoms of Kellon's feet are tough enough not to mind occasional poking from the odd rat or bat bone. Kellon has mixed feelings upon finding the dwarf's corpse. On the one hand, Spider was just defending itself. On the other, Kellon imagines dying alone in a foreign land, without anyone knowing your fate... A terrible fate.

Kellon's musings (and appraisal of the spear) are interrupted by surprise tugging on his backpack. Ponderously looking past his shell, Kellon blinks in surprise at the offer. "Well, now, that is very useful, little one! I do not think that we need that for now, but I will keep that in mind. I would certainly like to see you do it! Now, could you please the room for a moment? I would like to give this dwarf some last rites. It will help his spirit move on, hopefully to Moradin's forge halls."

[RandomWombat]

"Okay, tell him sorry for me!" with that, Spider shuffles back out of the room and closes the door behind it. "Kellon is saying goodbye to the dwarf," he hears Spider telling the others through the thin wooden door.

Kellon is left alone with the body of the dwarf. Thankfully, no vengeful spirits seem to erupt at the worst possible moment.

[Prehysterical]

It is difficult for tortles to kneel due to their shell, so Kellon instead bows his head and closes his eyes as he says the words.

"Moradin, I am not one of your priests, but I call on you nonetheless. Please, see this poor lost soul home, so that his kin may find peace and closure. Welcome him into your halls and let him feast with his ancestors. In the name of the Tempest, may the currents of the afterlife bear his spirit swiftly to rest. In the name of the Storm and the Anvil, let it be so.

...And Spider apologizes for killing him, so please be merciful and gracious."

[RandomWombat]

If anyone hears his prayer, Kellon does not know. For the room is as silent as ever, only the sound of a slight draft and quiet chatter from outside between the other three.

[Prehysterical]

It was about all that Kellon expected, really, but it had to be done. At least the dwarf's spirit was not haunting the room and swinging a spectral weapon around in furious vengeance for his untimely death.

Kellon goes to the door and opens it, waving Anton inward. "Anton, I found the dwarf. Could you come take a look at his spear? It's blessed by the gods, but I can't tell much more beyond that."

[RandomWombat]

The three of them are outside, with Gweyir talking with Spider, and Anton trying not to touch anything and get his clothes caught on the webbing.

"So your ancestors used to live in a cave?"

"Yup! And then Spider led us outside, and we lived outside where there was a lot more food!"

At Kellon's invitation, Anthon squelches his way over across the webbed floor, happy to cross into a room where the webbing is not so thick. "It seems that all spiders are simply called Spider," he comments as he slides into the room and looks around. "I suppose they tell each other apart some other way. Smell, perhaps?"

Standing over the fallen dwarf, Anton restrains himself from touching the spear for now, holding out his hands in a familiar gesture. The screen of green light shimmers between his fingers as he examines the spear. "Well, it is no grand artifact of 'Moradin', as I'm sure we surmised from Spider's survival. It is simply made to provide light." He closes his hands and lowers them to his sides, turning his head and examining the dwarf. "He is quite wide and sturdy for a dwarf. I get the sense that, much like elf, the meaning of the word is different where you come from. I've begun to suspect we may not be from the same plane at all."

Gingerly, Anton picks up the spear and says, "Off." The spear's tip stops glowing, dimming down until it is only a normal spear head. "On." The spear begins to glow again, shedding light around its tip. "Your dwarves are an uncomplicated and practical people, if their craft speaks to them," he observes, offering the spear to Kellon.

The Spear of Light has a Light cantrip on its tip that can be activated or deactivated with On and Off commands, and triggers the light sensitivity trait of things like kobolds. It provides no bonus to hit or damage, but does qualify as a magical weapon for bypassing resistances.

[Prehysterical]

It is hard for Kellon to not respect the dwarves for their ability to combine function and simple beauty in their creations. Kellon douses his lamp and accepts the spear from Anton graciously. "'Uncomplicated' does not fit their notions of honor, but their craft is well-respected among all races. We shall use this artifact until we come across a priest of the Forge-Father. The church has more right to the weapon than we do, but it shall do us much good in this accursed house. Still, it is strange... Dwarves are known for their ability to see in the dark. What need would one of the underfolk have for a light-bearing spear?" The question is rhetorical; Anton is most definitely not the right person to ask.

Kellon intends to do a more thorough search later, but it is best to quickly check the rooms before getting "lost in the reeds", as his father would have said. He steps past Spider and Gweyir to approach the latched door. With one hand on his new spear, Kellon opens the latch.

[RandomWombat]

"Perhaps the light is not to see, but to frighten or to blind?" Anton suggests, following Kellon outside. "Underground creatures such as moles can have very poor eyesight when it is too bright for them."

The two of them rejoin the others in the hallway, and Gweyir gets ready as he opens a new room. The latch turns and clicks open, and Kellon swings the door open inwards. Insight is a somber sight.

There is a single bricked up window, flanked by two dusty, wood-framed beds sized for children. To the right of the door is a toy chest painted in once-bright yellows and blues that have faded beneath a thick layer of dust, and peeled with time and water damage. Spots of wood that are more damaged than others suggest some places on the roof leak, dripping down when it rains. To the left of the door is a dollhouse, modeled after the house they are in. Kellon recognizes several of the rooms they've already explored, and it gives a fairly good view of the ones they haven't. The third floor and attic are a lot nicer on the model, as they must have looked back in their own day.

Lying in the middle of the floor are two small skeletons wrapped in familiar clothing. The smaller has a doll clutched against its chest with its little arms, while the larger is wrapped comfortingly around its lesser sibling.

[Prehysterical]

Anton raises a good point, Kellon is forced to admit reluctantly.

Opening the door, Kellon audibly gasps. "The children... by all the gods..." Life is hard and uncertain, he has learned, but the death of those who have not learned to take care of themselves is always a tragedy. He takes a deep breath through his nostrils and releases it with a sigh. "When all is said and done, they shall need a proper burial. I will not leave them like this."

Unfortunately, that will have to wait. The Mist has no respect for funerary rites. He approaches the dollhouse and looks at it with great curiosity. If it is modeled after the same house, perhaps it can provide some clue as to what might lie ahead.

[RandomWombat]

The model house reveals the rooms yet to be explored:

On the ground floor there is a dining room, a kitchen and adjacent pantry, and a sitting room with a glass cabinet containing some crossbows on display.
On the second floor there is a ballroom containing a piano, a library, and a hidden room behind a bookcase that on the dollhouse is very obviously a door. There is also a small servant's quarters tucked away to the side, with an adjoined closet.
The third floor they explored completely.
And in the attic there is another guest bedroom beside the childrens' room, and a storage room full of spare furniture.

There is a door hidden in the storage room in the attic, which even on the dollhouse is not obvious. Kellon is able to reach out and open it up, revealing a hidden spiral staircase that appears to descend throughout the entire house. Wherever it leads, the model house does not show.

As Kellon touches the dollhouse, he feels a slight chill. Not the dark powerful fury of the specter, but as he turns he can see two translucent figures standing in the middle of the room, over their skeletons. Thorn still clutches his little doll.

"Please don't take anything from the dollhouse. I don't want it to get lost," the little girl asks.

"Hello friends!" Spider peeks into the door and waves a mandible at the children. Thorn smiles from his shy hiding spot behind his sister and doll and waves back.

"Henlo."

[Prehysterical]

The dollhouse proves to be full of information, even allowing Kellon to see a hidden staircase. Since the exit is not immediately obvious, they can do without probing its descent for now.

Itching in his scales prompts him to turn around and he startles at the reappearance of the children. They seem as harmless as ever, however, and Kellon relaxes. He hopes his smile reaches his eyes since his beak is incapable of it. "I am sorry, little one. I was just admiring this tiny little version of your house. It is a very nice home." His tone grows more sad as he is forced to ask, "Tell me, children, why were you locked up here? Who locked you in?"

[RandomWombat]

The girl looks down. Thorn seems too shy to speak much, so she does it for him, "We... mother and father would lock us in here when they brought guests down to the basement. Father said, he didn't want us to see what was down there. Said we were still too little."

Thorn holds his doll tighter. "That's where the monsters howl."

"One day, mother and father never came back. I tried to break down the door, but I was too small," the girl recounts. "We got hungry and thirsty, and then we just got tired. And I held Thorn and we went to sleep."

"It wad just me and Rose until friend Spider come," Thorn says. Spider slips by into the room and walks over to nuzzle Thorn. Its head phases through the boy's body and leaves little misty streaks, but it seems to tickle and causes Thorn to laugh and giggle.

Gweyir and Anton each watch from either side of the doorway. "Well, there is no doubt that these are ghosts. But they don't seem like dangerous spirits at all." Even the usually either fascinated or unfazed writer's voice dips low, and his eyes watch the children sadly.

"They just locked their children up in a room?" Gweyir asks, rhetorically - and angrily. "So they could go do... gods know what?!"

[Prehysterical]

Not quite the scenario that Kellon had feared, but this was not much better. Their parents must have run afoul of their own rituals and the children perished up here, since no one else knew about the hiding place. The fact that these children have retained their innocence even in the face of such death and evil makes their fate all the more tragic. Just the thought makes Kellon physically ill, a lump in his stomach.

Kellon gives Gweyir a look, showing that he shares similar feelings but silently asking for quiet. Turning back to Rose, Kellon tells her, "When last we spoke, we did not have time to introduce ourselves. I am Kellon, the lady behind me is Gweyir, and the man is Anton. Now, Rose... Tell me everything that you can remember. The names of your parents, your nursemaid, anything that seemed strange... beyond the scary noises in the basement. How did your parents make so much money?"

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir contains a primal growl in her throat, choking it back. She nods and calms herself before her shouting can scare or upset the children - though Spider is doing an admirable job of keeping Thorn cheerful, and Rose seems very levelheaded for her age.

"It's nice to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances," Anton bows his head to the children.

"Pleased to meet you, Anton and Gweyir, and Kellon," Rose performs a formal curtsy in her spectral dress. "Our parents were Elisabeth and Gustav Durst. Our family were Barovian nobility, and owned the farmlands around the windmill west of town." She speaks with the fluency and clarity of a child well-educated, in spite of her neglectful upbringing. "Miss Georgia was our nursemaid. She took good care of us, and tutored me and Thorn. She took care of little baby Walter too - but I never got to meet him," she says sadly. "She never came to check on us, but I hear her crying sometimes."

"We spoke with miss Georgia," Anton tells them in a soft voice. "She really wanted to help you, but she couldn't. I think she would want to say sorry, and that she cared for you both. She left for a better place now."

Rose's sad face turns up into a wistful smile.

[Prehysterical]

Perhaps an overly generous spin on the situation for Anton's part, but at least the children now know that their neglect was not due to their caretaker abandoning them.

Kellon thumps the butt of his spear on the wooden flooring emphatically. "Well, rest assured, young Miss Rose, that we will put a stop to whatever evil has been hidden in this house. May Tempest strike me down if I lie!" A claw points to the sky, hidden as it is by the roof.

Turning to the other adults, Kellon continues, "But before we descend to the basement, we must inspect the rest of the house. There is another bedroom and a storage room here in the attic. I suggest that we investigate those before we head down to the second floor."

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir takes a step inside the room and walks over to the beds. "Children, do you mind if I use your pillowcases?" she asks. Rose nods and looks down at Thorn, who thinks it over and then nods as well. Gweyir looks up at Kellon and says, "I'm going to collect their remains to bring with us, so that we can give them a proper burial later. I'll be down in a moment."

"Do you want to come explore with us?" Spider asks. The little boy smiles and nods and steps inside Spider's body, seemingly melding into the creature, Rose following with Thorn holding her hand and pulling her in. There is a brief blue glow in Spider's eyes. "Let's go exploring! I show you my best secret hiding spot! Hey, stop pushing."

"I suppose if everyone else is going downstairs, I will remain with Gweyir for safety. You know where to find me if you need me to elucidate this or that," Anton steps into the room, perhaps just to get out of the webbed hallway, and takes a seat on one of the beds.

[Prehysterical]

While Kellon appreciates Gweyir's thoughtfulness, there are things going on that have a higher priority. Still, that is something that she can do while he investigates the other rooms in the attic. Kellon nods his understanding. "Very well. I will make a sweep of the other rooms while you gather the remains."

A sympathetic shiver runs through Kellon's bones as he watches the children seemingly possess Spider. He steps over to the neighboring bedroom and performs an inspection.

[RandomWombat]

The second guest bedroom is much like the first, but covered thoroughly in Spider's webs. A bed of webbing seems to have been woven on the floor, and there are more desiccated and skeletal remains of small pests such as rats and bats.

As he sweeps over the room, Kellon notices a small gleam of silver inside of the iron stove against the wall of the room. Pulling aside the webbing keeping it shut and opening it up reveals the silver lining of another Tarokka card lying in the bottom of the empty stove. Turning it over reveals The Innocent, with an image of a young human woman, surely a great beauty by their standards. Her hair is curled up at the sides and she wears clothes which somehow blend the fineness of wealth with a humble bearing.

[Prehysterical]

So... this is where Spider made its home. It seemed that even a mind as alien as Spider's liked the idea of a separate room.

He almost misses the Tarokka card in the stove, of all places, but the sheen on the back of the card catches the light just right. This house proves more and more unsettling by the hour... What sort of force would leave these magic talismans lying around? Another mystery for Anton to decrypt.

Kellon steps across the hall and enters the storage room. He is on his guard; the layout of the furniture in this place make it a perfect candidate for an ambush.

[RandomWombat]

"Do you like my nest? I made it myself," Spider asks as Kellon emerges from the room to check the one just across the hall. "It's very impressive how many webs you can weave, Spider. Aww, thank you! You're making me very happy!" It is strange to listen to it converse with itself, in different voices.

But now is not the time to get distracted, as Kellon is greeted with a room covered in deep shadows. The shapes of chairs, tables, and lamps covered in white sheets is far eerier in the lamplight and the unsettling atmosphere of the house. More disturbing in a primal way are the mannequins also stored here, some covered and some left out in the open. The secret door, Kellon knows, is to his right upon entering.

There is an unlocked wooden trunk sitting near an iron stove, which seems a bit out of place amidst the covered furniture. Taking a peek inside, Kellon finds a pile of human remains wrapped in a familiar bloodstained nightgown.

Judging by the damage on the bones, the nursemaid suffered cranial trauma from a sharp object - calling to mind the bloodied edge of her writing desk. Her back and the bones of her left shoulder are damaged, as if from a fall... or being thrown through a wall. But it doesn't seem even that killed her, for there are many small nicks and scrapes along the bones that line up with the bloodstains on her dress. In the end, she was brutally stabbed to death - five times, by Kellon's count.

[Prehysterical]

"It is very impressive," Kellon reassures Spider as he passes, trying not to listen too closely to the ghostly voices emanating in conversation from it.

Georgia's corpse is finally found in the chest and any doubt of foul play is gone from Kellon's mind. The nursemaid was viciously murdered, most likely by Lady Durst. Small wonder that she haunted this place.

After what happened with the black suit of armor, Kellon does not feel overly like taking chances. They will have to come back through this room eventually and he looks over the covered objects suspiciously. Chanting in a mix of tongues, Kellon attempts to coax the reveal of any magical energies that might be in the room.
Kellon will perform a Ritual version of Detect Magic, which will take about 10 minutes. It should cover the entire room and even extend to the other side of the hall.

[RandomWombat]

Taking the time to scan the area around him for magic, Kellon senses nothing out of the ordinary save for the items already in the group's possession, on this floor. There is a single magical presence from the floor below, in the broom closet. In the time of the ritual, Gweyir finishes collecting the remains of the children and carries them on her back, walking in to find him. Anton is with her as well, carrying a shimmering vial of red liquid which also sets of Kellon's magic sense.

"Find anything?"

[Prehysterical]

Fighting a feeling of anticlimax, Kellon reminds himself that he should be glad that nothing bad happened. Turning to regard the pair, he answers, "It seems that we missed something in that broom closet downstairs. I am going to investigate." On his way down, he hands the Innocent card over to Anton. "What can you tell us about this one? I found it in the stove in the other bedroom."

[RandomWombat]

Anton takes the card in hand and examines it. "If you don't mind waiting for an answer, I have begun to run a little dry on spells. While we are in no danger, it might be wiser for me to spend some time performing a ritual while you explore."

"Guess I'll keep sticking with him then. Spider can apparently pick locks, might be handy down there," Gweyir says, taking a wary look at the furniture much as Kellon had. "Preferably somewhere else. Like in the kids' room or back the master bedroom."

"Friends Rose and Thorn know their way around! I would be careful of the broom closet. The broom was made to attack mice," Spider chirps, shifting into Rose's voice halfway through. "We were warned not to touch it."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon nods his understanding of Anton's request. At the interruption from Rose and Thorn, he stops in place and holds up a finger in revelation. "That must be it! The ensorcelled broom must be the source of the aura!" Turning, Kellon comments, "Well, that saved me a trip. I am in no rush, Gweyir, so we can all go back down to the master bedroom while Anton performs his ritual. The magic contained in that Tarokka card might prove useful, perhaps even life-saving."

[RandomWombat]

And so they descend, back to the dusty third floor bedroom. Spider crawls down ahead of them through its hole in the floor, and is awaiting when they arrive. Anton takes the card and sets it on the table, laying a sheet of paper beneath it and beginning to construct a ritual circle with ink and pen.

Spider folds its legs beneath it and settles onto the floor, humming a tune - though whether it is Spider or one of the children who begins the humming isn't clear, as they soon all join in. Gweyir is standing nearby, pacing back and forth, her payload of bones in bags laid upon the bed for now.

With the circle trace complete, Anton holds out his hands on either side of the glyph and chants in some arcane tongue. A green glimmer, such as that between his hands when he casts the spell more swiftly, takes form in a dome around the card. His eyes widen a little a she peers down to the object's nature.

"This one is certainly less foreboding than its sibling. Its magic forbids the bearer from doing harm to others unprovoked, but in turn shields those who do no harm. It calls to many others, tiny lights scattered like stars."

The Innocent has been added to the Cards document.

[Prehysterical]

"A worthy artifact," Kellon praises. He has no intention of using it himself at the moment, but it could definitely come in handy later, especially with the townsfolk. Looking at Gweyir, Kellon asks wryly, "Well, shall we got on with it, lassie? You're liable to wear a hole through the floor at that rate. Down to the second level."

The stairs are proving to be Kellon's favorite feature of the house. He thanks the stars, sky, and seas that the family's opulence included springing for stone stairs. He moves down to the bedroom immediately next to the staircase on the second level.

[RandomWombat]

"Yes, we shall," the elf turns on the spot and nods, flashing a smirk of her own back. "With this floor, it might just be a real risk." She motions for Anton to go ahead and falls in behind him, with Spider taking up the rear - though it could easily overtake them by simply crawling along the ceiling.

Making their way back to the finer parts of the manor, Kellon finds that little details seem to have shifted or changed. In the landing above the stairs, the woodland scenes seem to have taken a darker turn. Bodies hang from trees, nooses around their necks, and the woodland critters frolicking below seem to have been replaced by writhing worms.

Further down, in the upper hall, he notes the two sets of double doors. Where the youths before seemed to dance merrily, they now frantically swipe at bats assailing them from above."Has everything always been this morbid?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe certain things just stand out more now?"

As they others gather in the upper hall and enjoy some space, a relent from the cramped halls above, Kellon enters the servants' quarters. The room is undecorated, but as with everything on this floor in much better condition than those above. Two simple beds with straw mattresses each have a small footlocker at their end, and a closet to his left opens up to reveal pristine, ironed and ready to wear servants' uniforms.

A quick glance in the footlockers proves them to be empty, save for rolled up bedding not currently in use.

Spider crawls across the room and turns upwards, staring up at the family portrait above.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon suppresses a shudder as they pass the grim artwork. He doesn't know what possibility is more disturbing: that the art has changed during their stay, or that it has always been that way and they saw something else for a different reason. For that reason, he keeps his silence.

Nothing remarkable, malevolent or otherwise, is present in the servant quarters. Kellon steps out and over to the room next door. If he recalls correctly, there is a room hidden behind a bookshelf that very much warrants investigating.

[RandomWombat]

As he passes back through, Kellon sees that Anton has wiggled free another oil lamp to carry, replacing the one that broke upstairs.

The double doors open into a study. It is far from a grand library, with only a few rows of bookshelves, but those shelves are packed full. All manner of subjects among them - history, warfare, alchemy, first edition works of fiction and poetry, a few children's stories.

Two plush chairs flank another of many fireplaces that adorn the manor, and in front of them is a larger, oak writing desk. There is another oil lamp atop it, alongside a quill resting in a jar of ink, and a tinderbox for the fireplace. Inside of the desk is a pile of blank parchment, and a letter kit with a red wax candle and a wooden seal bearing the Durst family's windmill.

Going around into the alcove between the bookshelves, Kellon finds the last bookshelf, where the door is supposedly hidden. One of the books, red with a blank cover, stands out among the others. Kellon can see that the pages inside are fake, the texture of paper smoothed into the wood. With a pull of the book, the shelf pops, allowing Kellon a grip to slide it open.

Within is a smaller, cramped room. No desks or drawers, just more bookshelves, hidden here in the back. The tomes look eerie, with names such as Necromancies of the Priests of Osybus, or Gretelvuulf's Lesser Key of Fiends. At the end of the room is a large chest with iron clawed feet, much like the tub upstairs. The chest is partially open, with the lower half of a skeleton hanging out, clad in leather armor.

There is a creaking behind him as the door begins to swing shut, operated by a spring on the hinge, but a hand catches it from the other side. Gweyir pulls it back open and props it in place with her foot.

[Prehysterical]

It seems that the secret library of the family is just as dark as Kellon had feared. It would probably be easier to imagine what evils they had not tried to invoke.

Kellon gives a nod of thanks to Gweyir as he turns back to the chest. "It seems that another looter came in here and paid with their life for it." Kellon uses the tip of his spear to pry the top of the chest open the rest of the way.

[RandomWombat]

The top of the chest opens, and the skeleton's torso falls out, held together by its leather cuirass. Several darts are stuck into its chest, piercing the leather. A closer inspection finds them covered in a long since dried green substance, some kind of poison. But Kellon can see the trap mechanism inside the chest, and it seems it was never reloaded. Perhaps the Dursts were long dead when this unfortunate adventurer wandered in alone.

Within the chest are three books with black leather covers, their pages blank. They seem to be personal journals of excellent quality, completely unused, and might fetch a few coins. Unlike most jewels and gaudy trinkets here, they do have practical value... assuming the locals are literate. Deeper inside are the deed to the house and the deed to a windmill and the surrounding acres west of the village of Barovia, as well as a signed will and testament from Elisabeth and Gustav Durst, leaving their properties to Rosavalda and Thornboldt Durst in the event of their deaths. Underneath the legal documents are a trio of scrolls rolled up in leather cases.

The scrolls are of bless (http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:bless), protection from poison (http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:protection-from-poison), and spiritual weapon (http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:spiritual-weapon).

And then there are the skull and other bones of the adventurer, having fallen apart into the chest. Kellon spots, clutched in its detached skeletal hand, a letter that its previous fleshy owner failed to pluck from the chest before he or she died.

My most pathetic servant,
I am not a messiah sent to you by the Dark Powers
of this land. I have not come to lead you on a path to
immortality. However many souls you have bled on your
hidden altar, however many visitors you have tortured
in your dungeon, know that you are not the ones who
brought me to this beautiful land. You are but worms
writhing in my earth.
You say that you are cursed, your fortunes spent. You
abandoned love for madness, took solace in the bosom
of another woman, and sired a stillborn son. Cursed by
darkness? Of that I have no doubt. Save you from your
wretchedness? I think not. I much prefer you as you are.

Your dread lord and master,
Strahd van Zarovich

[Prehysterical]

Kellon wonders if the thief ever knew the value of what was inside the chest before they died... Dead men can't spend anything, after all. Kellon first picks up the scrolls and stows them away in his pack. He leaves the deeds alone for now and reads the letter clutched in the skeleton's death grip. The more Kellon reads, the more disgusted he becomes. This "Strahd" sounded like an oil spill, poison dropped into a well. This would need investigating...

Setting down the letter, Kellon picks up the enigmatic journals and looks at Gweyir sadly. "Well, at least now we know what happened to little Walter... Gods, what a mess," he swears. Stepping out of the room, Kellon calls out. "Anton! Spider! Come join us!"

When the pair (quartet?) enter, Kellon passes the journals off to Anton. "My eyes tell me that these are blank, but then why would they be locked up in a trapped trunk with the family's most valuable possessions? We need your truesight, lad. Something about this stinks worse than seaweed at low tide!"

While Anton occupies himself, Kellon asks the ghost children inside of their spider friend, "Rose, Thorn, do you know anything about Elizabeth and Gustav? I am guessing that they are your aunt and uncle?"

[RandomWombat]

The others shuffle in - or linger outside, as the room has little space. Gweyir takes a look at the letter while Anton and Spider are finding their way. "Stillborn. Poor nursemaid kept calling for him - she must have lost it in grief."

Anton takes the journals and eyes some of the books on the shelves. "I shall take a look through these, see what I can learn about what they were doing here. I'll just, er, step outside to the desk... pardon me," he tiptoes out, shuffling past Spider and Gweyir in the cramped space.

Spider climbs up onto the wall for more room and tilts its head at Kellon. "Elisabeth and Gustav are our mom and dad. Is this mama and papa special hiding place?"

[Prehysterical]

For clarity, I had specified that Kellon had moved out into the larger library space instead of staying in the hidden compartment.

Kellon shakes his head and feels foolish at his mix-up. "Er, one of their hiding places, yes, though I would wager not their most special. And forgive me, children, but I was referring instead to Rosavalda and Thornboldt. Your mother and father left the house to them in their will."

[RandomWombat]

My mistake, misread it as him stepping out to call Anton and Spider into the smaller room.

Everyone assembles in the more open space of the library after taking a look at the smaller room. Spider's body emits a small girl's giggle. "That's us, silly! Silly silly! Rose and Thorn. We don't go by our full names because they're too long."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon's eyes visibly flick as he connects the dots in his head and a look of embarrassment somehow works its way onto his beaked snout. He gives a good-natured laugh at his own lack of observation. "Ah, yes, I suppose I should have recognized that. I shall make the excuse that we tortles don't normally do nicknames. Still, that does raise the question... Do you two have any family outside of your parents? Anyone else living in Barovia that is related to you?"

[RandomWombat]

Spider raises a single foreleg up under its head in a curiously human gesture, though it may be Rose doing it rather than the arachnid itself. "Let me think... do you remember big cousin Fiona, Thorn? Yea. Fio-na. What was her last name? She was engaged to Nick something. Water? Mmm, Nick and Fiona Water? That sounds close."

"If they're nobles, I'm sure some of the locals would recognize the name." Gweyir pauses and looks outside through the windows of the study, where the Mist still clings to the glass. "Assuming we can ever leave this house."

"Don't worry, Gweyir An Elf! We'll find a way!"

Breathing in for a moment, Gweyir lets out a small half-laugh half-sigh. "Gweyir is fine, Spider. No... need for formalities between friends."

"Okay!"

[Prehysterical]

Gweyir's comment is an unwelcome (but understandable) reminder of the Mist that is ever present outside. Kellon wonders in his mind just how long they will be stranded here... The food will only last so long. He struggles to keep himself from laughing at Gweyir's expasperation.

"Well, at the risk of running out of things to do, I suggest that we investigate the room across the hall while Anton is performing his inspection." Kellon steps across the hall to do just that.

[RandomWombat]

Turning to follow Kellon, Gweyir strides out of the room in his tow. Spider crawls over to Anton's borrowed desk and lifts up to peek at what he's doing, an identification sigil in progress around one of the journals.

The door to the next room opens up, revealing the wide open tile floor of the ballroom. All of the furnishings are around the edge, wooden chairs with blue cushions arrayed beneath painted figures on the walls, dancing and playing instruments. About half of the figures have no flesh upon their bones, painted forms of skeletal merrymakers.

Two large instruments adorn the room. An old, but well maintained harpsichord and a tall standing harp. At the back end of the room is another fireplace. To the right of the fireplace is a silver flagpole, adorned with a flag. There are four colored squares, red on the top right and bottom left, purple on the bottom right and top left. In the center where they intersect is a simplistic figure of a raven.

The flagpole itself, on closer inspection, is a spear set into a stand on the floor. The head of the spear is not very sharp, but could be sharpened again with a whetstone. As it is, it is perhaps better called a silver club.

"Think they had the 'guests' dance with them here, before they dragged them down to the basement?" Gweyir asks in a disdainful voice.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon looks skeptically between the instruments and the flagpole at the edge of the room. "Even if I knew the answer to that question, would it make any difference," he retorts lightly.

Since they have some time while Anton makes his observations, and nothing immediately jumps out at them, Kellon begins performing his own ritual to probe for the ebb of magic in the room. Now that he is no longer concerned with crashing through the floor, Kellon dances lightly to better facilitate his gestures, shifting from one foot to the other as he chants.
Another ritual of Detect Magic.

[RandomWombat]

As Kellon performs his ritual dance, Gweyir watches from the doorway, leaning on the frame. It takes a bit to fully perform, but finally his senses flow out. But no more magical forces are at play nearby, save the one he recognizes upstairs - the mouse-killing broom.

Not long after, Anton comes up to the door with Spider behind him, carrying the two journals. Kellon senses no magic in them, in his hands. "Well, these are just what they seem. Empty journals. I tried checking for invisible ink as well, but no luck. As for the other books, I left those behind," he motions over his shoulder. "Complete nonsense. If they were performing those rituals, nothing would have come from it."

[Prehysterical]

It may seem like a waste of ten minutes, but Kellon is happy to be overly cautious. Time is something they have plenty of.

Soon, he learns that Anton's search was equally as fruitless. Kellon can't decide if it is somehow worse that all of the foul rituals performed by the parents of the household did not even have any basis in actual function. "Well, I appreciate you being thorough, Anton." Looking down and blinking at the books, Kellon looks back up at Anton and asks, "What about the third journal? More of the same?"

[RandomWombat]

"Yes, I have it here," he pulls up the flap of his messenger bag. The book is there, alongside some other writing materials. "Would you like them? I have my own."

"So you know the dark rituals are bogus from experience, do you?" the druid leaning in the doorway between them asks, nudging Anton in the side with an elbow.

"Of course," the man readjusts his coat proudly. "As I said, I take pride in doing my research. Knowing the dark arts is not the same as using them, you know."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon waves off the offer with visible contempt. "I'm more than happy to leave the book learning to you, lad. I am a student of the school of life."

In a way, Kellon can see Anton's argument. Just because servants of the Tempest could call forth typhoons and thunderstorms did not mean that they did so at every opportunity. Still, the man's enthusiasm for such dark matters was uncanny...

"All right, let's be on with it," Kellon tells the other two. "Back down to the main floor. Let's see if anything has changed..."

Down on the main floor, Kellon decides to check the smallest room first.
That would be room 2B on the map.

[RandomWombat]

With a shrug, Anton tucks away the empty journals and walks along with the others down to the first floor. This place, too, seems a little more morbid than they left it. The images of flowering vines along the wall revealed as serpents, the flowers hiding imagery of skulls. Where the satyr in the statue with the nymph once seemed joyous, now his gaze seems lecherous and diabolical.

A glance into the door, and Kellon recalls it as the coat closet. There remain inside a few black coats, and a black top hat.

"For some folks, all they have is book learning you know," Anton converses as they traverse. "Most folks back home, where I'm from, they don't even know about the supernatural. Government keeps it all hush hush. And when they read books by other hacks they learn all sort of old deep-held superstitions that are just completely untrue. When they read my books, they are armed with knowledge. And if they should encounter some dark force, perhaps they can manage to escape. Little survival manuals, hidden as leisure reading, and all without blowing the top on government secrets that will see witch hunters at my doorstep."

[Prehysterical]

The closet proves to be uninteresting, but Anton's ramblings for once capture Kellon's attention. He turns from the closet and stares at the man in disbelief. "Wait... How does a government stop people from learning about magic? Spirits? Demons? They are all an integral part of the cosmos! Why, that would be like me trying to hide me shell!" Kellon clacks the Spear of Light against his carapace in emphasis. "What about your wizards and sorcerers? The servants of your gods? Druids of nature and scheming warlocks? Can your government really control all of that?"

[RandomWombat]

"Oh yes, quite," Anton nods. "Magic users must be licensed or employed by the government, and are legally obligated to keep their activities hidden. In the event of a major supernatural event, they all - myself included - are expected to participate in mass application of illusions, enchantments, and alchemical amnestics to keep the populace at large in the dark."

"And you said witch hunters will track you down if you don't?" her interest captured as well, Gweyir, steps forward to join in the questioning.

"Yes. In England, the worship of gods besides the 'One True God' - a false idol of perfect order and obedience invented to sap the true gods of worshipers and thus their power - is the only recognized religion. Pagan worshipers, unlicensed spellcasters, those who break the masquerade, all are pursued and eliminated by the witch hunters. Druid circles are expected to remain in their 'preserves' and avoid interaction with the general populace, where they care for controlled populations of magical creatures such as Spider."

"Controlled population?" Spider asks, not really understanding the meaning.

"Well, um. Keeping there from being too many of you... putting it in nice terms."

"That's- that's absolutely insane! Why would they go to such lengths?"

"Wars of men, wars of gods, vampire lords and wild magic," the scholarly writer explains. "In the true history, time and again, the world has nearly come to an end. More than once we have been set back an age or more in progress. And so the governments of Europe have settled upon pacts to quell the spread of unchecked magic, and drain the gods of their power." He shakes his head. "I don't agree with it. As far as I'm concerned, they are leaving the greater populace completely unprepared should something happen again. They can't cage the world, not realistically. They can barely cage Europe."

[Prehysterical]

Haunted houses, restless spirits, and blood cultists were one thing, but the world that Anton describes is... not just merely an authoritarian dream worthy of Hell. It is a world of madness masquerading as control. And the idea of intentionally leading people away from the gods... There is irreverence, there is blasphemy, and then there is downright apostasy!!! Kellon grips his spear tightly to restrain his outburst, like a black thunderhead waiting to unleash its cargo of lightning.

Finally, Kellon can only sigh in sadness. "I suppose that they also plan to leash the tides, quash the waves, and shush the wind. What folly... You are right, Anton. Nature cannot be contained in such a way. All the artifice of man cannot compare to the sheer raw power of the elements themselves. There is no wall too high for the ocean, no way to fight the tides. I fear what will happen for the people of 'Europe'..." With a snort of disgust, Kellon concludes, "All we can ever do is be responsible for ourselves, for our own survival. Deal with the tide as it comes. Speaking of which, I suppose we should get on with the business of living... and scouring this den of evil." He makes his way to the room to the right, expecting to see the kitchen.

[RandomWombat]

And the kitchen indeed he does see, as depicted in the dollhouse. There is a wash basin full of clear, clean water, a counter armed with an array of cutting tools and a cutting board, a rolling pin, a cabinet filled with fine ceramics and glassware, a cabinet filled with silverware - all of the forks, spoons and knives appear to be real silver. On the far left end of the room, from the door, is a large stone dome-shaped oven. Beside it is a thin wooden door to a well-stocked pantry full of fresh produce and even some smoked meats.

Spider crawls inside the kitchen and makes a beeline (spiderline) to the dumbwater. Using a pair of limbs with surprising dexterity, it operates the pulley system and lifts the dumbwaiter out of the way, then peeks in below it. "Over here, Kellon! This is my secret hiding place." When he comes over to look, Spider-Thorn moves aside. In the bottom of the dumbwaiter shaft is a small pile of loose coins and a small wooden toy horse.

5 gold and a wooden horse figurine.

While Kellon explores the kitchen, Gweyir opens the other door beside it and takes a look inside, where a wood-paneled dining room is dominated by a mahogany table and eight high-backed chairs. More highly polished silverware and glassware is laid out upon the table, and a crystal chandelier hangs above it. The walls are decorated with images of deer loping through the woods - woods with trees displaying horrified visages writhing in the bark, and wolves lurking in the foliage.

A large tapestry depicts horse-mounted aristocratic hunters with dogs chasing down a wounded wolf.

[Prehysterical]

Considering the state that most of the house is in, Kellon is astounded at the kitchen. Kellon follows when Spider calls and stops himself from chuckling at the child's self-congratulation. "A very good hiding spot," he tells the child. The gold coins got into Kellon's pouch, but he leaves the wooden toy horse alone.

Popping his head into the dining room, Kellon questions Gweyir. "The food in the pantry is still edible! It looks like these fruits and vegetables were just plucked from a garden. How is that possible?"

[RandomWombat]

Spider('s guest) seems to beam up at Kellon at the praise. When the horse is left behind, Spider tucks it into a small bag made out of spider silk that it seems to have woven together at some point.

In the next room, Gewyir is looking up a the tapestry with some disdain. She glances back down at Kellon when he speaks. "Hm? Let me see." Following him back, she inspects the food in the pantry, kneeling down and picking a carrot out of a basket. "It certainly should not be fresh. Kept in the open like this it should have rotted away long ago." With her other hand she breaks off a tiny piece of the carrot and places it in her mouth, chewing. A frown grows on her face and she spits it out onto the floor.

"Perhaps just a glamour. Was it rotten?" Anton asks.

"Tastes of nothing," the druid answers, standing back up. "You may not be wrong. The way all the scenery changed gets me as well. Something's off about this house, and it's not just the spirits."

[Prehysterical]

A small part of Kellon is sad that the food isn't actually real, but at least it's also not a poisoned bait. He stops to ponder something that has been bothering him. "Why is it that the first two floors are so clean, but the third floor is a-" Kellon looks down at Spider and changes his wording. "a dust-ridden mess? Maybe they aren't actually clean, but there is some magic that makes it appear that way? But why?"

[RandomWombat]

"I don't know," her tone makes it clear that Gweyir does not like her answer any more than Kellon does. She steps past the others back into the main hall and regards the room, more cautiously than before.

"Maybe the answers will be in the basement," Anton suggests. Thorn's voice makes a quiet whimper from Spider's form, and Spider and Rose both attempt to comfort him with quiet encouragement and lullabies.

"There is but one room left to explore," Gweyir states, looking at last to the final door. She opens it. Inside is an oak paneled room, a blend between a hunter's trophy room and a sitting room to entertain guests. Above the fireplace sits a stag's head, stuffed as a trophy. Three whole stuffed wolves are placed around the room, as if circling the seating before the fireplace. The two padded chairs are draped in animal furs, and between them is an oak table with a cask of wine sitting upon it, along with a pair of carved wooden goblets, a rack upon which rest two tobacco pipes, and a candelabra. In one corner of the room is another wooden table, surrounded by four chairs. Wine glasses are arranged before each seating place; a chandelier - less fanciful than the one in the dining hall - hangs above it.

There are two cabinets in the room. The northern one is unlocked, containing a wooden box with a deck of playing cards, and a set of wine glasses. The western cabinet is a glass display case that Kellon recognizes from the doll house. Inside on display are three crossbows, of varying sizes. Accompanying each weapon is a quiver of full metal bolts, half iron and half silver. This cabinet is held shut by a lock, and the glass seems thick.

Inside he can see a heavy crossbow, a light crossbow, and a hand crossbow. There are three quivers, each containing 10 regular bolts and 10 silver bolts.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon doesn't even need to look in Gweyir's direction to feel her disapproval of the space. He steers clear of the wine and crockery and stands before the glass case, looking at it in serious consideration. His eyes widen in sudden remembrance and flit to look at Spider. "Spider, my little friend, you were wanting to show us how you can use little bones to pick locks, right? Well, I think this is the perfect opportunity to try!"

[RandomWombat]

Crawling eerily around the frame of the door, Spider transfers from the wall to the ground fluidly and approaches the cabinet. "I'll show you my special talent!" Spider announces happily, drawing a set of bones from the little bag, sharpened to points and with little ridges made in mimicry of lockpicking tools.

Spider sets the bones into the little grasping mandibles of its mouth and stands up against the cabinet, fiddling with the lock with surprising dexterity. After only a few moments, there is a click as the cabinet unlocks. "Huvay!" Spider mumbles around the bones still held in its mouth. Anton claps his hands from the doorway, and Gweyir has an impressed smile on her face.

[Prehysterical]

Spider's enthusiasm is simply too infectious. Combined with the spider's muffled cry, Kellon gives a hearty laugh. "Well done, little one! You just did with your mouth what most folk can't do with full fingers!" He reaches down and scratches Spider's head affectionately, taking care with the tips of his claws.

Opening the cabinet, Kellon tells the other two, "Well, if no one has any objections, I'll be taking this monster here." He hefts the heavy crossbow. More than three times as heavy as his old crossbow, but he knows that the pull strength is greater, as is the range and stopping power.

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir approaches the cabinet as well, joining in giving Spider affectionate scratches on its back. All of the attention elicits what might generously be called a purr, and more accurately be called a tittering noise. She plucks the light crossbow from among those on display and claims the bolts that go with it.

Examining the hand crossbow, Anton admits, "I'm really not familiar with the smaller design. Perhaps I could borrow your spare?" he asks, motioning to the still slightly damp driftwood crossbow Kellon carries. "Either way, we may as well take it. Could be worth something." Gweyir nods and picks up the hand crossbow, tucking it away.

"Maybe we can teach Spider to use it," she suggests half-jokingly.

[Prehysterical]

In response to Anton's request, Kellon reaches back with a practiced motion and pulls the crossbow from over his shoulder. He holds it out for Anton to take. "Never had to use this too much, but I was always happy to have it when I did. T'won't be the weapon that fails ye, I'll tell you that!" After Anton takes the lighter crossbow, Kellon takes some of the bolts from the cabinet.

Kellon knows that Gweyir's jest was not meant to hurt, but he points a claw at her to reinforce the idea. "If you had told me before yesterday that a spider could learn to pick locks, I'd have told you to stop drinking seawater. If Spider can manage lockpicks, then Spider can sure as thunder learn to pull a trigger!"

Looking between the others, Kellon reluctantly voices what they are all thinking. "Well, that's every room in the house... except for the basement. What are you thinking? Straight into the sea serpent's lair, or do you want a bit of time to rest? I know that you've spent most of your magic, Anton. I will abide by whatever decision is made."

[RandomWombat]

"Given an hour, I can prepare us an additional healing elixir and restore some of my spent magic," Anton suggests. "I do not think it would do us well to sleep in this house again if we do not have need. I'm wondering if this... decaying of decorum," he motions around at the formerly innocuous, now macabre scenery, "Is only the beginning of some process."

"Have you noticed anything changing since you've been staying here, Spider?" Gweyir asks, looking down.

"Nope."

"Hm... then again, maybe the house just considers Spider to be more of a feature than prey." She looks around following Anton's gesture, shuddering at the thought that the house - or something influencing it - might be watching.

[Prehysterical]

Anton raises a very good point. "Very well. May as well rest here, since there are seats and all." He tries not to think about the implication that they are being toyed with. That way lies madness, like a sailor too long at sea and desperate for any hint of land or a woman. "I'd almost be tempted to light the fireplace for a touch of warmth, but it might just open up a portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire or some layer of Hell for all I bloody know." Kellon sits in one of the padded chairs, the ability to actually sit on something comfortable a rare treat.

[RandomWombat]

Anton goes over to the card table and takes a seat, opening up his spellbook and getting to work. Gweyir takes the second seat in front of the fireplace, and Spider folds its legs beneath itself, lying on the ground in front of them. "Almost feels comfortable," the elf's gaze flickers to her side. "If not for the prowling wolves in the periphery."

She sighs and tries her best to relax. "So you lived out in the islands, Kellon?"

[Prehysterical]

Kellon gives a contented sigh as he sinks into the seat before answering. "Aye. I never knew if the island that we lived on had a name, but we always called it 'Stormshield'. Something about the layout of the island made it a safe haven against the great storms that came through. Mother and Father thought it would be a nice, quiet place to hatch me and raise me and live out the last year of their lives." He speaks casually of the death of his parents. "It was rough at first, dealing with the idea of being alone and knowing it was inevitable, but they always warned me about it and gave me a great deal of advice. I buried them on that island. I even used their old rowboat as a coffin to protect their bodies in case the sand was swept away.

I lived alone for a while. At first, I ignored ships when they passed and actively resented any shore parties. In time, though, I got lonely. I started wandering here and there, staying only as long as I liked. I don't know how much of that was due to my kind's wanderlust and how much was the Tempest sweeping me up in the current." He stops and looks at Gweyir. "What about you? How does a druid end up on a pirate hunters' ship?" At the time, Kellon had not felt like learning their names was worth the time... It is enough to make him feel at least a little guilty.

[RandomWombat]

She fiddles with the pommel of the Dursts' silver sword, looking a little forlorn. "We are a circle of Dreamers, living along the coast of Tethyr. You lived in what we would call the Sea of Swords, notorious for many small uncharted islands... and many pirates," she relays, though it sounds more like she's dancing around the important thing by finding other things to say. "It was mainly wood elves. I'm technically half wood elf, but I take more after my father," she rambles a little before sitting up straighter and getting more to the point.

"The 'wolf pirates' we were tracking were not only raiding ships, but also the shores. They only take the young, and they abducted my younger brother - among others. That's why I joined up on the Spurned Falcon. I hoped to learn where they take their captives."

[Prehysterical]

"And now the Falcon is truly spurned and we are arguably abducted as well," Kellon observes wryly. "But why did they call them wolf pirates?

[RandomWombat]

Spider raises a single limb to pat Gweyir on the leg. But it's Rose's voice that speaks, "I'm sorry. I hope you can find him... I don't know what I would do if I lost Thorn."

Taking a deep breath and swallowing, Gweyir nods. "Thanks, Rose." She looks back over at Kellon and answers, "The rumors claim that the pirates are part man and part beast. Some go further and call them wolf men. They could be gnolls."

"Or werewolves," Anton speaks up, drawing Gweyir's gaze. "Lycanthropes. Transform under the light of the moon into wolves, or partially between. Infectious," he holds up a hand at that word, as if in warning.

"I never considered that," the druid admits with a frown. "Usually on the sea you'd expect something like weresharks."

"Weresharks... never heard of such a thing. But I suppose anything is possible." The man's work affords a second glance, as there appears to be a half-formed glass vial made out of shimmering reddish light floating in front of him, slowly gathering more material as he works in his spellbook with one hand and performs arcane gestures around it with the other.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon gently reminds Gweyir, "It could also be that that particular lot are just hairier than usual or have some kind of wolf symbol. Magic isn't always involved, even if it is common throughout. Still, not that it matters at the moment. We have far bigger problems on our claws." He looks out the window and curses, "I'd rather fight an entire fleet of pirates than spend another day with this damned Mist!"

Anton's magical preparations are visually interesting, but magic takes all sorts of forms. It seems like there are many different ways to channel the energy and people just use different methods. Looking down at Spider, Kellon remembers something that the townsfolk said yesterday. "I heard someone here say that the ocean is a myth. Is that what the grown-ups told you, Rose?"

[RandomWombat]

"Oh, yes," Rose answers, with Spider turning to look up at Kellon with his eight eyes. One might wonder if it's strange looking out of so many eyes for the possessing spirits. "I learned in my history lessons that long ago, before the devil Strahd ruled Barovia, its rivers ran to the ocean as all rivers do. But no one has seen the ocean for generations now."

As he looks out the window, Kellon notices a silhouette of a hunched figure walking through the Mists outside, seemingly unhindered. Should he move to take a closer look, he can see that it is a crooked old woman, her hair tied back with a colorful bandana.

[Prehysterical]

Normally, there would be a lot to unpack in Rose's statement, but the sight outside has Kellon flailing and rocking in his chair to get his shelled bulk standing. "By the Eye of the Storm! There's someone out there!!!" Kellon hurries over to the window, trying to get a better look.

Anton had mentioned that Strahd's messenger was unconcerned by the Mist... Could this strange woman be another of the devil's cronies?

[RandomWombat]

Seeing Kellon's reaction, Gweyir stands up, and Spider scrambles to its 'feet'. In spite of his obvious curiosity as he glances over, Anton does not abandon his rituals to go take a look out of the window.

"Are they in danger? I don't think so. It must be one of the Vistani. They are servants of the devil Strahd, and they can walk safely through the Mists of Ravenloft."

"Dammit, we can't even go out there to question her," Gweyir curses.

[Prehysterical]

"Something tells me that we should be glad that we can't confront her, Gweyir... If she can freely traverse the Mist with no ill effects, I don't know if we could even do anything. Devils don't dole out rewards to weaklings. But why would she be here? It's not like this village is important in any way... Is it?" Kellon looks down at Spider for confirmation, realizing that he is making assumptions.

[RandomWombat]

"The Vistani are spies, that report back to their master. We should shut the curtains."

"Then I have good news, because I am just... about... done," with a final gesture, Anton finishes conjuring a shimmering vial of red liquid. He takes it and reaches down, slipping it into Spider's silk pouch. "Just drink that if you're hurt, little fella. Should fix you right up. I should caution you that it will disappear in about a day, however."

"Alright," Gweyir grabs the curtains and draws them across her window as she turns around. "Does that mean we're ready to go up to the hidden staircase?"

[Prehysterical]

Kellon does as Rose recommends, though he tries to do so naturally and not draw attention. He wonders if it is too late, if this spy has already seen whatever she was looking for...

He nods grimly in response to Gweyir's question. "Aye. This will be unpleasant business, but needs must. Spider, perhaps you should stay back with the children. There's no telling what we might find down there...." His claws grip tightly onto the Spear of Light.

[RandomWombat]

"But I want to help!" Spider insists, sounding put out. "I'll be very sad if my new friends don't come back. I'll cover Thorn's eyes if we see anything bad. We'll be good, promise!"

[Prehysterical]

Kellon gives a reptilian hiss of displeasure, then puts his forehead into one hand. Spider is more mobile than anyone in the house. If the trio make up their minds to follow, they'll just do so. With a great big sigh, Kellon finally relents, but glares pointedly at Spider.

"You are to stay out of the way and let the adults handle things. If I tell you to run, you put all eight of those legs to use, understand me? And no talking unless absolutely necessary, all right? If you really want everyone to make it through this, you will do as I ask. No games here; this is serious business."

[RandomWombat]

Spider lowers its head and pulls its mandibles together. "Okay, I will go into super sneaky mode!"

[Prehysterical]

"All right... Let's see this done, then." Kellon says nothing more as they begin making their way up to the attic. He doesn't necessarily drag his feet to get there, but he is also not in a monstrous hurry. The darkest corners of his mind are furiously at work imagining what they might find in the vile hidden guts of this place, like water in the bilge...

[RandomWombat]

From the top of the wretched house, the descent begins. The stairs spiral downwards, for what feels like forever, into the dark. The stairs beneath are lit only by the spear held before Kellon, and the firelight of Anton's oil lamp behind him. Gweyir walks between, with Spider at the rear.

The stairs are rickety old wood, and Kellon can see as the descend no supports beneath each step. Yet these do not creak, they do not bend, they do not yield in the slightest to his weight. As if the rot in them has only made them stronger. The cramped space within the spiral seems to close in from all angles, particularly around Kellon's wide shell, drawing out feelings of claustrophobia.

At last, a tunnel emerges into view at the bottom of the staircase. Distant sounds of voices can be heard, in a chanting too distant to hear, echoing from the depths. The walls are stone, hewn from the earth, with wooden support beams at regular intervals.

[Prehysterical]

Everything about this place stinks to the heavens. Sure, it was convenient that the stairs did not give under Kellon's weight, but that only made them all the more suspicious. Kellon had always thought the inner decks of ships to be restrictive, but the darkness and spiraling tightness of this staircase... It was nightmare inducing for someone used to the open sky and without darkvision. Only a sense of duty kept him moving forward.

At last, they reach the bottom. The tunnel branches into different paths and the unsettling drone of chanting can be just heard. Kellon stops to get his bearings, trying to pinpoint the direction of the chanting.
Perception: [roll0]

[RandomWombat]

With the sound echoing back and forth from both directions, it is impossible to tell from where the chanting is coming yet. Or if it is coming from anywhere at all.

"We're right behind you," Gweyir states encouragingly.

[Prehysterical]

Well, it was worth a shot. For lack of any better ideas, Kellon immediately turns left to explore that part of the tunnel.

[RandomWombat]

Passing by a side passage, Kellon can see within are two empty, unmarked and unfinished crypts. The stone slabs meant to seal them are placed aside, and the interiors contain no coffins or sarcophagi. To the left the corridor turns, down a short flight of stone stairs, where a wooden table sits in a room.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon makes his way down into the room, his eyes darting around as he sees a few potential entry/exit points.

[RandomWombat]

Just off of the simple table and chairs are some small alcoves containing moldy straw pallets. Another path leads on, down another brief set of stairs into what looks like a larger chamber.

[Prehysterical]

"I guess this is where the 'guests' would end up staying," Kellon surmises. It seems like they might be drawing closer to the heart of the complex. Kellon looks to the others and suggests, "We should go back and check the other passage first. Not very fond of the idea of leaving our backs open, especially if we have to get out in a hurry."

[RandomWombat]

"Good plan," Gweyir agrees with a nod, stepping aside to let Kellon through as the group reverses their order and traverses back down the path.

Coming to a four-way intersection...

To Kellon's left and right are four more crypts, these ones marked and named. To his left are two marked for Gustav (C) and Elizabeth (D) Durst. To his right are two marked for Rosavalda (E) and Thornboldt (F) Durst. Straight ahead is a slightly wider room with a wooden table, and two benches on either side. It seems to have once been an eating space.

[Prehysterical]

This new development is puzzling. "Why would they have crypts constructed for their children," Kellon wonders. He moves to open the door to Rose's crypt just to see what is inside.

[RandomWombat]

Inside the crypt is a chamber with an empty coffin and a stone bier.

"This appears to be a family tomb," Anton looks down the other hallway, towards the parents' crypts. "Saw some empty ones just back there, too. Might have been expanding it for future generations."

Spider crawls along the wall to reach ahead, and the two spirits step out of their arachnid companion to regard their own crypts. "Is this where we supposed to sleep?" Thorn asks quietly.

"I think so. I think we weren't suppose to sleep here until we were a lot older, Thorn," the young ghost rubs her brother's back comfortingly.

[Prehysterical]

"Yes, I'm sure your Mommy and Daddy didn't mean for you to go to sleep like you did," Kellon says as he tries to comfort the child. He opens Thorn's crypt, just to be sure. The whole point is to be thorough, after all.

[RandomWombat]

Thorn's crypt, as well, lay empty, the coffin awaiting its designated inhabitant.

"I'm not familiar with Barovian burial customs, obviously. Often our dead would simply be left in the woods to feed the forest, or buried in our gardens to feed our plants," Gweyir begins, taking the pillowcases from her back and looking at them. "Do you think that we should put you to rest here?"

"I don't know... I think I'll be okay as long as I'm buried at the same time as Thorn. He's always afraid when he has to go anywhere alone." As if to punctuate her statement, the young boy takes hold of her hand, seemingly afraid she might vanish.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon holds up a clawed hand to forestall Gweyir. "What say we make sure that this place is sanctified and cleansed of evil before we start performing any last rites, eh?" If Kellon had his way, these children would leave this house never to return.

He had not been expecting too foul in checking the children's crypts, but a cold feeling washes over him as he looks across the hall. Kellon moves to inspect the crypt of Gustav.

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir nods and slings the sacks back over her shoulder. Thorn and Rose retreat into Spider, as Kellon ventures to the other crypts. Whatever expectations Kellon may have had for the crypt, he moves away the stone slab in the way to reveal... another empty coffin on a stone bier.

[Prehysterical]

That is perfectly fine by Kellon. All that remains is to check Elizabeth's crypt.

[RandomWombat]

This time, however, the scene is different. The coffin within Elisabeth's crypt sits shut, and the back wall has collapsed, spilling wet dirt into the room and partially covering the opposite end of the coffin.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon has grown a little complacent, but this new development snaps him to attention. He hesitates before asking the others, "What could have caused the back wall to give out?

...Should we open it?"

[RandomWombat]

Anton steps up to peer in past Kellon. "Hm. Shoddy construction, unexpected rain coalescing above? It appears to be water damage at any rate."

"Bet a zombie pops out," Gweyir comments. She pauses and glances back at Spider, "Sorry, that was a little irreverent."

"It's alright... father was always better to us than mother was," Rose's voice replies sadly.

[Prehysterical]

There was a strong argument to be made that things should be left well enough alone. The question had its hooks in Kellon, though. He had to know.

Without a word, Kellon steps forward and opens the coffin.

[RandomWombat]

Kellon tugs the lid of the coffin aside, and more dirt unsettled by the motion sifts down, into the empty container. No body. Then Kellon notices shapes writhing up out of the dirt, many-legged and fanged. Their tiny eyes glowing with a haunting blue light, the tide of centipedes crawls forwards eerily, silent and swaying.

Anton responds quickly, drawing his and and pointing it at the swarm. "Suffosio!" he proclaims, his spell causing some writhing and discomfort among the swarm.

At the same time, Gweyir's ears perk up. "Something slithering... look out behind!" She spins around to face the small mess area, where a creature with scales that glimmer and shift in color with the stone beneath slithers towards her. "It's a Grick!"

"Ignitum," Her blade in hand, she faces the creature and conjures a bonfire between it and herself, hoping to give it pause.

Gweyir - 17
Anton - 16
Kellon - 15
Spider - 10
Grick - 10
Centipede Swarm - 2

Gweyir casts Create Bonfire.
Anton casts 'Suffosio' on Centipede Swarm, dealing 3 necrotic damage.

It is Kellon's turn.

Kellon is unfamiliar with Gricks.

[Prehysterical]

The manner of cosmic punishment for Kellon's intrusion takes a rather unexpected form. The centipedes appear even more unsettling in the shadows cast in the crypt, but Kellon recognizes the species as nonvenomous. It is a minor relief, but he knows that their bites are painful and it sounds like the group is being flanked. Kellon does not know what a 'grick' is, but it sounds very unpleasant.

Half a dozen different courses of action spring to mind, but Kellon realizes that it would be better to fight one front at a time. The tortle backs up and puts his shoulder into closing the crypt back up.
Athletics check: [roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Gripping the sides of the slab, Kellon begins to lift it back into place. But in his haste, it slips through his claws with a clattering sound and nearly lands upon his foot, making a loud bang as it impacts the stone floor. The swarm soon overtakes him, crawling up his legs and into crevices they ought not, but he is able to sweep and shake them off before they can complete their assault.

Whipping his wand around, Anton focuses on the part of the swarm still crawling on the floor, as he backs away. With another incantation, his spell causes the swarm to writhe and fall as they try to get a hold on Kellon's feet.

Spider crawls up the wall and onto the ceiling, hanging above the corridor and preparing for the Grick's approach. The serpentine creature hesitates only momentarily before slithering through the fire to grab at its prey. Before it can attack, Spider twists with surprising flexibility, launching webs that cover the monster. It squeals as both it and the webs begin to burn, and lashes out at Gweyir with a tentacle. She raises her blade and blocks, holding her ground.

Bringing the sword up, she drives it down. The blade catches on its hard beak, bouncing off.

Kellon attempts to seal the crypt, but loses his grip.
Spider moves into the ceiling and readies an action to shot web.

Grick moves into the fire and is hit by Spider's readied Web, becoming Restrained. It takes 2 fire damage, and the web takes 8 fire damage.
Grick attempts to lash Gweyir, but misses.

Centipede Swarm attacks Kellon, but misses.

Gweyir attacks Grick, but misses.
Anton casts 'Suffosio' on Centipede Swarm, dealing 3 necrotic damage.

It is now Kellon's turn.

[Prehysterical]

Closing the crypt is no longer an option. He hears the hellish squeal of the grick out in the hallway, too concerned with his own immediate situation to worry too much about Gweyir.

Kellon wants to use his thunder magic, but there is a real possibility that the entire tunnel could collapse on top of him. With the vermin wriggling around and on him, Kellon invokes a blessing. "Sunburst!"
Kellon casts Word of Radiance

[RandomWombat]

The light scorches the eerie blue light out of some of the centipedes, sending them scurrying away as their natural instincts take over once more. But the sheer number soon overpower the holy light as waves of them swarm up his lower body. White hot pain shoots through him as they begin to bite at anything they can crawl into.

"Ah- hold on! I'll ah, really hope this hits," Anton begins performing more complex gestures in the air with his wand, carefully stabilizing the magic with his free hand. "Striga Fulmen!" From his wand and the tips of his fingers, many small bolts of blue lightning arc out and jump between the centipedes. Kellon, remarkably, is not electrocuted - though he feels a distinct static charge in the air around him.


"Hsss!"

Crawling up above the Grick, Spider reaches down from the ceiling over the fire and jabs its fangs into the monster, which shrieks as clear streaks of poison leak from its wounds. As it pulls away, a Grick tentacle reaches up and grabs onto it, the barbed surface tearing out some hairs as it tries and fails to capitalize with its razor sharp beak. The Grick falls back down into the flames, as the last of the webs burn away.

Another slash from her sword fails to connect, as Gweyir swings. The Grick, now freed from the webbing, swerves around her swipe and makes a fierce warbling call like that of a bird.

Kellon casts Hand of Radiance, dealing 2 radiant damage to the swarm.
Spider attacks the Grick with a bite, scoring a Sneak Attack for 5 damage and dealing 10 poison damage.

Grick lashes Spider for 4 damage, but fails to hit with its beak. It takes 3 fire damage, and the webs are destroyed.
Centipede Swarm attacks Kellon, dealing 9 damage.

Gweyir attacks Grick, but misses.
Anton casts (Kellon Arcana: Unknown) on the swarm, dealing 10 lightning damage.

It is Kellon's turn.

[Prehysterical]

"Ah! Ah! Bastard," Kellon curses as he feels a forest of centipede bites on his legs and tail. The lightning from Anton comes as welcome aid, but Kellon knows that he might be meal for the worms soon if he does not take a different approach.

Hearing the sounds of battle outside, Kellon tells Anton, "Go help the others! I'll hold them back!" Kellon pulls out a small silver mirror from his component pouch and points it at the swarm. "Shellshield!"
Kellon casts Sanctuary on himself. He also takes the Dodge action.

[RandomWombat]

The swarm surrounding Kellon is quelled by the holy magic as it forms a halo of light around him.

Crawling along the ceiling, Spider drops down into the room behind the Grick and raises its forelegs, hissing and moving in for another bite. But the serpentine monster swerves out of the way and grabs onto Spider with its tentacles. The razor sharp barbs shred into the arachnid's body as the Grick lunges in for a bite, savaging its prey as its coils hug the wall to avoid the flames.

"Spider!" Gweyir calls out. But as the beak is about to snap shut, Rose's spirit emerges and interposes itself, the bite caught and slowed in her ectoplasmic form. "Get away!"

The creature proves that its fight is far from over, continuing to swerve around Gweyir's sword blade. "Spider, get up!" she shouts, healing magic interlacing with her words and bringing the creature back to consciousness.

Anton looks between Kellon and the others and sends another pulse of energy into the centipedes, frying them completely. "Now we can both help them!" he declares, as he turns and runs their way.

Kellon casts Sanctuary, and uses the Dodge action.
Spider drops down behind the Grick to flank and bites at it again, but misses.

Grick lashes Spider, hitting for 13 damage and knocking Spider out, then bites - but hits Rose instead. Grick avoids fire damage this turn.
Centipede Swarm attempts to attack Kellon, but fails to overcome Sanctuary.

Gweyir attacks the Grick, but misses. She casts Healing Word, healing Spider for 3.
Anton sends a pulse through his spell, hitting automatically for 12 lightning damage, frying the swarm.

It is Kellon's turn.

Went to grab food, back now.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon rounds the corner and sees Spider badly wounded by the horror. He goes around Gweyir and thrusts the glowing spearhead at the grick. "Get away from him, you bastard!"
Attack roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] (Two-handed) Piercing

[RandomWombat]

Kellon's spear catches the creature off guard and impales it straight through its midsection. With a gargled sound it releases Spider and tries to pull away, but falters and falls down, corpse slowly being scorched by the fire until Gweyir dispels it and hurries to check on Spider.

She kneels down next to Spider, as Rose steps to the side and looks on in worry. "The birdsnake is very sharp and not cute at all."

"Easy there, here," she reaches into Spider's silk pouch and takes the shimmering red bottle inside, helping Spider to drink Anton's elixir. The scratches along its back oozing with invertebrate blood begin to mend over.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rose asks, wringing her hands together.

"Yup! All better now," Spider declares, standing more steadily. "Thank you for helping me, friends! You're all the very best!"

Spider is healed for 6 by the healing elixir.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon wrenches the spear free with a sickening crunch, leaning against the wall. If he was physically capable of it, he would be sweating, but the panting reaction is just as natural. Recovering his composure, he steps into the room to clear up the hallway. Thank the gods Spider seems to be okay.

The tortle waves off Spider's thanks. "Think nothing of it, boyo. I wouldn't wish that foul thing on my worst enemy." Looking to Gweyir, Kellon asks, "I don't suppose you got one of those healing potions from the bedroom upstairs, do you?"

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir nods and pulls one out of her belt pouch, handing it off to Kellon. Anton comes up behind them, stepping over the fried Grick and cringing at the smell, holding a handkerchief over his nose.

"Eugh. What is this thing?"

"A Grick. Predators from the deep underground, their hides are tough to pierce without magical weapons. Spider's venom looked like it did a number on that guy though," she smiles and pats Spider's head, causing it to titter happily again.

The room they're in has a few more passages breaking off from it. On one end is a small alcove containing a statue that's fallen apart beyond repair, and beneath it a narrow hole down into darkness, about the width of the Grick's body.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon accepts the potion with thanks and drinks it. He feels the stinging bite wounds and rips on his lower half heal with its magic.
Potion heals [roll0] hit points

Wiping his beak, Kellon growls, "And Moradin was more than happy to supply the rest." He taps the butt of the spear against the floor. Perhaps the dwarf would rest a little easier knowing that the weapon was being used to put down such horrid monstrosities.

Cautiously, Kellon approaches the hole that the grick likely emerged from. "Ugh, do you think that this house sits right on top of an entrance to the Underdark?"
Perception check for both the hole (like smells) and the broken remains of the statue: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

The old statue appears to have once been a bust, perhaps of one of the Dursts or an ancestor. The Grick's burrowing has toppled the pedestal holding it, and its face crumbled to pieces when it struck the floor. Taking a look at the hole, it carries the rank smell of an animal's burrow, but there is no sign of how deep it goes.

"It wouldn't surprise me," Gweyir answers, her voice jaded by the house's continual displays of new levels of depravity.

[Prehysterical]

Unable to determine the hole's depth, Kellon decides to move on. In his mind, he is firmly resolved that the children will not be buried in this terrible place, crypt or no crypt.

He moves down the passage that seems to diverge into crossroads.

[RandomWombat]

Rather than return to Spider, Rose falls in line behind the group, looking around carefully. The ominous chanting grows louder as Kellon steps down the path. He can hear it coming from his right, and more coming from his left. It echoes through the halls alongside growing growls and snarls. Gnarled, sickly blue hands stab up through patches of unfinished floor as undead monstrosities crawl up to greet him. One of them reaches for him with a claw, but he kicks it away before it can find purchase.

On hearing the sounds, Spider ascends once more onto the ceiling and crawls above the party's heads, shooting out a web at one of the undead and ensnaring it. Rose lingers towards the back, watching on helplessly, likely unaware of anything she could do as a ghost.

Gweyir reaches down and wastes no time erecting another bonfire below, aiming not to destroy Spider's webs. "Ignitum!" The ghoul it erupts beneath twists out of the way, up against the wall.

"Suffosio!" joining the chorus of cantrips being loosed, Anton tilts his head around the corner and uses his wand to bring the one Gweyir failed to burn to its knees.

The ghouls who cannot reach them hiss and howl, waiting their turn at the fresh meat.

These are Ghouls, undead monsters that hunger for sapient flesh and have a paralyzing, feverish curse within their claws. Elves, however, are well known to be immune to the necrotic fever.

Ghoul B - 17
Ghoul C - 17
Spider - 15
Rose - 14
Ghoul D - 9
Gweyir - 7
Anton - 7
Kellon - 6
Ghoul A - 3

Ghoul B claws at Kellon, but misses.

Spider crawls onto the ceiling, and webs Ghoul A, Restraining it.
Gweyir casts Create Bonfire, but Ghoul B it's on passes its save.
Anton casts 'Suffosio', knocking Ghoul B Prone and dealing 2 necrotic damage.

It is Kellon's turn.

[Prehysterical]

As Kellon registers that the chanting is growing louder, he finds himself swarmed by undead. At least these are foes that he knows how to fight. The others use their magic to give him some breathing room, letting Kellon ready a stab.
Attack rolls against Ghoul B:
[roll0]
[roll1]
Damage: [roll2] Magic Piercing

[RandomWombat]

The bright point of the spear digs into the undead creature's rotten flesh, holding it down against the burning floor. The creature grabs onto the haft of the spear and pulls itself up, to stand and close the distance, lunging at Kellon with one claw. But the long, yellowed nails find only air. Its cohort, bound in webs, tears at the webbing and frees itself, regaining its stance.

Above Kellon, Spider crawls along the wall and makes a grab at the impaled ghoul's head with its fangs, but falls short - or rather, too high. Gweyir's sword proves more effective as she shifts her stance and stabs past Kellon's flank, striking the ghoul. With one foot she kicks it off of both of their weapons, and its innards begin to spill out onto the floor from the gut wound wrenched open. It shows no signs of pain or distraction, but its body starts to buckle and threaten to fall apart.

One more casting of Suffosio from Anton serves as the final nail to seal the ghoul's metaphorical coffin. His spell causes its body to buckle and collapse in on itself, lying in a pile of twitching flesh and bone trying ineffectually to actuate.

Kellon stabs Ghoul B for 10 damage.

Ghoul A passes a Strength save to break free of its webs, but expends its action doing so.
Ghoul B stands up and attacks Kellon, but misses. It passes its save against fire damage.

Spider attacks Ghoul B, but misses.
Gweyir attacks Ghoul B, hitting for 7 damage.
Anton casts Suffosio on Ghoul B, dealing 4 necrotic damage and finishing it off.

It is Kellon's turn!

[Prehysterical]

Kellon turns to face the newly freed ghoul and rewards its persistence with a thrust.
Attack roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

This time the ghoul is not helpless on the floor - it grabs the spear with one clawed hand and yanks it aside, drawing it off course, then lunges in with its other to grab at Kellon's neck. The claw proves unable to find its mark, as Spider's mandibles swing down from above and grab the ghoul under the chin. Its neck stretches unnaturally, flesh tearing and muscles exposed, but it holds together. Spider seems to care little for the taste of its rotten flesh and lets go. "Ptooey! Yuckers!"

From around the corner, the ghoul that was lurking behind the first to fall sees its opportunity. Heedless of the fire and with hungry, glowing yellow eyes, it lunges forwards, leaping over the flames to swipe at Spider on the ceiling. But Spider pulls up, hugging the stone, and the ghoul's claw falls short, landing and stumbling against Kellon's shell with a snarl.

Gweyir grabs it by the shoulder and shoves it away from Kellon, then drives her sword into its chest with the same motion as the last. Without Kellon's spear, the strike is not as dire, but nevertheless leaves a gaping hole in the ghoul. "Suffosio!" Anton recites once more, popping out from around the corner to send the ghoul down to its knees.

Kellon attacks Ghoul A, but misses.

Ghoul A claws at Kellon, but also misses.

Spider bites Ghoul A, landing a Sneak Attack for 9 damage. Ghouls are immune to poison.

Ghoul D claws at Spider, but misses. It passes both saves against the bonfire this turn.

Gweyir attacks Ghoul D for 7 damage.
Anton casts Suffosio on Ghoul D, dealing 4 necrotic damage and Prone.

It is Kellon's turn!

[Prehysterical]

Not one to miss out on an opportunity, Kellon swivels and aims for the downed ghoul.
Attacks against Ghoul D:
[roll0]
[roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[RandomWombat]

His weapon strikes true, piercing the heart of the monster. But as it regains its footing, it shambles forwards again to meet him. Both ghouls rake their claws against Kellon's shell, but they do not draw blood, leaving only flakes of fetid skin clinging to the grooves and ridges of his natural armor. Spider tries to lunge down again, but something in the ghoul flesh must have turned the arachnid off, for it gags and backs off before it can get a proper grip.

The flames lick up the legs of the second ghoul down the side path, and its lower body gives out completely, falling backwards into the flames. With an agonized cry, it joins the other in slowly becoming a charred pile of flesh, the stench filling the hallway more every moment.

With that side clear, Gweyir shifts the bonfire under the still-occupied front. This time, as Anton tries to drive the burning ghoul down deeper into the fire, it resists his spell and presses forwards, lunging at Kellon one last time.

Kellon stabs Ghoul D for 7 damage.

Ghoul A claws at Kellon, but misses.

Spider tries to attack Ghoul A, but misses.

Ghoul D attacks Kellon, but misses. It takes 7 fire damage and perishes.

Gweyir casts Create Bonfire on Ghoul A, dealing 7 fire damage.
Anton casts Suffosio n Ghoul A, but is resisted.

It is now Kellon's turn!

[Prehysterical]

Praise whatever god decided that tortles get their shells! Kellon is like a machine of death strokes, turning his spearpoint to the ghoul harassing him... and catching it on the corner of the wall in his haste.
Attack on Ghoul A: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[RandomWombat]

As his spear catches, the ghoul falls upon him, in perhaps a sign that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer. This time it grabs onto his shell by the hole around his neck and reaches in, digging its nails into the softer flesh within. A sick glee fills the ghoul's face as it feels blood against its flesh, and it pulls the hand back out to lick its nails ravenously. Kellon feels a slight weakness in his limbs, and a heat under his flesh. But fortunately the fever does not take hold in its full potency.

Spider still seems warded away from the ghoul, but Gweyir steps around Kellon to get a better angle and lops its head off in a clean swing. "Just one left! Are you alright?"

Anton holds his wand at the ready, staring intensely down the hall at the last ghoul, which is eagerly licking its lips.

Kellon misses Ghoul A.

Ghoul A scratches Kellon for 6 damage, but he passes his Con save against paralysis.

Spider misses Ghoul A.
Gweyir slashes Ghoul A for 10 damage, finishing it off.
Anton readies an action to cast Suffosio when the last ghoul enters the bonfire.

It is Kellon's turn.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon's beak clacks shut in pain as the ghoul sinks its nails into his flesh. He clutches at the wound as Gweyir moves past him and decapitates the loathsome wretch.

"I'm not dying to a ghoul of all things!" Kellon is hurt, but more angry than frightened. Glaring at the remaining ghoul, Kellon mockingly flashes his bloody hand at the creature. "Well, come on then, coffincrasher! You hungry?"
Kellon readies an attack against the ghoul when it comes up.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

If Anton manages to knock the ghoul prone, here is an additional attack roll: [roll2]

[RandomWombat]

All to eager to comply, the ghoul rushes headlong into the waiting ambush. At a word from Anton, the ghoul tumbles forward into the fire. As Kellon drives his spear into it, the ghoul wraps a clawed hand around his leg and rakes the sharp tips deep into his flesh. The weakness and sweltering heat reach a fever pitch and Kellon finds himself toppling to the ground, the world around him a blur.

He can hear people calling out. There is a thunk and the sound of metal impacting stone. Then Kellon is turned over by figures that waver and wobble back and forth. Slowly, his senses begin to return as the venom works out of his system.

Ghoul C rushes Kellon. It gets knocked Prone and dealt 3 necrotic damage by Anton, then stabbed for 8 by Kellon and burned for 1 from entering the fire.
Ghoul C scratches at Kellon, and manages to get a hit in despite Prone, for 7 damage. This time Kellon falls victim to paralysis from the ghoul's fever.

Spider bites the ghoul for an 8 damage Sneak Attack.
Gweyir finishes the ghoul off with a 7 damage attack.

As combat ends, Kellon passes the next save to recover from paralysis and finds himself Prone on his back.

[Prehysterical]

Bleary and weary, the fever of the ghoul's touch flares with temper as Kellon feels distinct embarrassment for his weakness. He really is the tortle stuck on his back. "Grah, damn it! Help me up, please!" Kellon would normally not ask for help in such an undignified state, but the lingering traces of ghoul fever make him feel weak in the arms. The ragged claw marks down his leg feel almost as bad as the previous centipede bites.

[RandomWombat]

To get him up, Anton and Gweyir have to each get under one arm and lift him together, but they manage to get Kellon back to his feet. Before he can even ask, Anton brings out one of the shimmering elixirs and holds it up for him. "You look like you could use a pick-me-up."

"Those guys tasted really bad," Spider complains, as Rose moves up in the hallway and looks at the floor.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help. I really didn't know what to do..." she says, quietly.


But before they can recover their bearings fully, Kellon notices that one set of chanting has stopped. It still echoes up from the stairs, but the chanting from his left when he reached the intersection as since stopped. The quiet in that direction is broken by the sound of slow, sardonic clapping. "Impressive. Most impressive. We haven't had such able guests in a long, long time." A raspy female voice drones, followed by a dry chuckle. "Why don't we get acquainted? Right this way."

[Prehysterical]

Kellon gives a groaning sigh. "Thanks, lad." He drinks the mixture, but it feels like it makes him thirsty more than anything else. The pain dulls, but only a little.

Before Kellon can comfort Rose, but the sound of clapping and mockery slam his beak shut. He looks grimly to the others at the invitation. In a whisper, Kellon asks Gweyir, "You got any of that healing druid magic, lass? I can heal meself, but I'd much rather save me prayers for a nasty rebuttal I've been given from Tempest."

[RandomWombat]

"Here. Let's sooth those wounds," Gweyir responds by way of answer, placing a hand on his back. The wounds in his neck, beneath his shell, begin to knit back together.

Kellon receives another 6 healing.

[Prehysterical]

The warmth and light from the elf soothe and knit Kellon's wounds. He closes his eyes in appreciation of nature's blessing following them into this awful place. "Thank you. Well... whoever they are, they know we're here. Might as well get this over with, aye?" Kellon leads the group down the left branch, the light of the spear guiding their steps.

[RandomWombat]

Led by Kellon, they emerge into the room, the Spear of Light shining on and showing the way. The room ahead stinks like an untended mortuary.

This room is festooned with moldy skeletons that hang from rusty shackles against the walls. A wide alcove in the south wall contains a painted wooden statue carved in the likeness of a gaunt, pale-faced man wearing a voluminous black cloak, his pale left hand resting on the head of a wolf that stands next to him. In his right hand, he holds a smoky-gray crystal orb.

Before the statue stands a ghoulish woman with old, stitched holes across her sickly green flesh, and a bloodstained smile. Even in her current state, Kellon recognizes her from all the portraits above. Elisabeth Durst. She is clad in a fancy dress that looks much newer and cleaner than she does, apart from the bloodstains where her old wounds have soiled it.

Next to her is the man of the house himself, Gustav Durst, his expression as grave and sour as his portraits ever portrayed. Greying hair frozen in a permanent state of premature balding, his face is riddled with flaps of missing skin, holes peering into the gums and the interior of his mouth, and slick grave grease staining patches of the remaining flesh. He is clad in a red robe and wears a medallion with a skull set upon it.

There is another undead here, though he looks different from the others - for one, he looks happy to so the new arrivals. Not in a 'pleased to eat you' sort of way, but in a way one would view the first ray of sunshine after a week of overcast weather. "Aha! Quickly, somebody free me!" he motions with his head towards the shackles that bind him to the wall alongside the skeletons. The man is clad in a warm hooded jacket, but his face is deathly blue and the stink from him suggests he is every bit as undead as the rest of those here.

"Sssht," Elisabeth shushes the man with a shrill noise and a zipping motion across her lips. Then she turns to Kellon and company, bloody smile again painting her face - and then turning to shock as Rose steps forward.

"Mother?" Beside her, Thorn emerges from Spider, looking up at the dead man in red with a mixture of surprise, hope, and fear. "Papa?"

"... Kids," Gustav is struck nearly speechless as he stares at them, his eyes welling with tears of dark, dead, coagulated blood.

"I feared that Lord Strahd had taken you... as a price for his immortal gift," Elisabeth laughs wildly, in her dry and weathered voice, spinning around on the tip of her foot. "But here you are! Eternal and ageless as we! Oh praise Strahd!"

Ghostly chanting throughout the room echoes her sentiment, in many voices: "Praise Strahd!"

"What happened to you? What is this place?" Rose demands, a mixture of relief and anger in her resonant, spectral voice.

"This is our temple, sweet pea," Elisabeth holds out her arms before the wooden statue, proudly. "And it seems it is finally time for you to join us." Behind her, out of her field of view, Gustav looks at his long-dead wife uncertainly, then back at his ghostly children. His clawed, ghoulish fists clench at his side.

[Prehysterical]

The appearance of the Durst couple makes the ghouls from earlier look beautiful in comparison. This place does not merely reek of death; it is positively soaked in it.

Kellon moves forward to interpose himself between Rose and Elizabeth. "This is no temple," he rumbles, his voice thick with revulsion and contempt. "This is a pit!" The last word is spat out like a curse. "You raise altars and make sacrifices to a devil and you dare call him a god?" Kellon points at the wooden statue, the symbol of Moradin clearly visible on the shaft.

Brining the spear back to a standing position, Kellon visibly trembles with suppressed rage like a crackling stormfront. "You left your children to die in the attic! Alone, with no food or water, wondering if anyone would ever come for them..." The wood in the spear creaks as Kellon's claws tighten their grip as his eyes glance between Elizabeth and Gustav. "So, tell me, who murdered the good nursemaid Georgia? The jealous wife, or the man who sold his soul to a so-called 'god' that would rather see him suffer? Considering the number of stab wounds, I'm leaning more toward Madam Durst..."

[RandomWombat]

Approaching Elisabeth almost proves to be an embarrassing mistake - the stench surrounding her is so vile and defiled that Kellon nearly has to stop his impassioned speech to keep himself from retching.

Kellon passes his save against Stench, and is immune to it for 24 hours.

Kellon Religion: These two are no mere ghouls, but ghasts, a more powerful variant able to resist holy powers that would turn lesser undead - and grant that resistance to their lesser servants. They carry a powerful stench, not just of the grave, the stench of Evil and Death made manifest.

"How dare you-" Elisabeth begins to rebuke him, raising an arm up to bat his spear away when he points it irreverently towards her lord.

"Elisabeth," she is interrupted by Gustav, his voice tired and old and full of regret, as he takes hold of her arm before she can swing it back at Kellon. She looks back at his incredulously.

"What are you doing, Gustav? This creature disrespects our Dread Lord!"

"I drove her head into the table," Gustav speaks, looking at Elisabeth. Whether he is speaking to her or to Kellon in his confession, it is unclear. "She got up... she- she begged me to stop. Kept calling the name of that dead baby. I couldn't take it- I threw her into the wall, and she fell through."

"Gustav-"

"And then, then I couldn't finish it. She was lying there, helpless. The woman I... I could not look at her face. Then you came. Slid open that door and drove the knives into her back. Like she was meat, Elisabeth."

"So what?!" the woman cries out, wrenching her arm from his grip. "The things we did down here, to all those strangers. Don't pretend you're better than me. Just because you- you fell for some harlot!"

"I am not better than you, Elisabeth. But those children," Gustav points to Thorn, clutching his ghostly doll and held close to his sister's side as she looks up at them with tearful eyes. "Our sins are not their sins Elisabeth. They are not a part of this."

Elisabeth Durst falls silent, staring with her mouth a tight line at her husband's rotten face. She reaches up and plucks the misty orb from the statue of Strahd, and points at Kellon's party. "Faithful. Kill them all - but leave the children unharmed. They will join us in time." The mists within the orb swirl and dark figures begin to rise throughout the room. Black as darkest night, with the outlines of skulls barely visible where faces would linger behind black cloth, if they were merely veiled. But no, they are the veil. The darkness itself. And as their voices whisper in dark tongues (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3mwPfqu_3Y), Gustav's dead eyes ignite with new fire.

"No. I will not give them unto evil! Not this day, nor any day to come!" Gustav roars in defiance, winding up a splayed open claw.

As the claw slashes across her shocked face, it is not blood that sprays out, but writhing centipedes. More begin to crawl out of her many open wounds and stitched gashes, pouring out of her like a waterfall. The blue man shakes his chains again and petitions in a recognizable Barovian accent to the party, "May I suggest again to let me out?"

Gustav Durst - 21
Kellon - 19
Shadow B - 19
Anton - 16
Spider - 15
Rose Durst - 14
Elisabeth Durst and Centipedes - 13
Shadow C - 11
Friendly Zombie? - 8
Gweyir - 6
Thorn Durst - 5
Shadow A & D - 5
Shadow E - 4

Gustav Durst slashes Elisabeth Durst for 15 damage.

It is Kellon's turn!

[Prehysterical]

Gods, was it too late to fetch the tiger skin from upstairs as an air freshener?! The rotten family family reunion boils over as the parents lash out with each other and the room fills with shadows and centipedes. All Kellon wants to do is fill this room with lightning and scorch everything down to the stone, but the others are right behind him. Even if Kellon was in any position to help the bound man (ghoul?), it was clear that Elizabeth had to be stopped immediately or this place would be a tomb for them all.

Grasping his holy symbol, Kellon takes advantage of Elizabeth's surprise to deliver divine retribution her way. "Heartseeker!"
Kellon casts Guiding Bolt at Elizabeth
[roll0]
[roll1] radiant damage
The next attack roll on her gains Advantage.

[RandomWombat]

The bolt of light arcs into her back, and Elisabeth is surrounded by a halo of light as her undead flesh is scorched. More centipedes emerge, but these ones seem lesser, as if already scorched by the radiance. "My Lord! Give me strength to purge this traitor!" She whirls around, pointing her two arms at Kellon and Gustav. Lengths of centipedes joined together like cords lash out, crawling onto them, stinging and biting. Kellon is able to avoid the worst of the wave of insects, thankfully, but the swarms covering the floor begin to coalesce upon him. Worse, he feels dark hands upon his shoulders, and shadows close in from all sides of his vision. Insidious whispers in his mind leave him feeling weakened.

One of the shadow cultists slides forwards and grabs Gweyir. The color begins to fade from her skin and her knees nearly buckle. Another begins to move towards her, but the zombie chained to the wall kicks at it with his feet, "Hey, cult weirdo! Pick on someone your own age, ay? Like finely aged cheese - haha!" His taunting draws the shadow's attention and it descends upon him, beginning to drain his energy instead. The last of the cultists at that end of the room grabs at Gustav, but he brushes it off angrily.

"Kellon, hold it together! You have to repel them, there are too many at once!" Gweyir shouts, magic lacing her words restoring some of Kellon's drained vitality, if not his strength.

"Striga Fulmen!" Anton exclaims, sending crackling electricity through one of the dark figures. It slowly turns towards him, unfazed, and his face droops into regret. Spider crawls around behind it and lunges up, biting into its back. The distraction is enough for it to forget about its attack on Anton halfway through, its slow mind causing it to turn towards Spider instead.

Rose looks down at her spectral hands, and then at the swarms of creepy crawlies her mother is leaking. "Thorn, grab the bugs! As many as you can get!" she orders her brother, getting down on her hands and knees and scooping them up. Though her ghostly hands fail to grab any, they seem to chill and wither the insects as they pass through.

"I help!" Thorn calls out as he grabs some of the centipedes crawling all over Kellon and 'crushes' them in his little ghostly hands. His touch is cold, but thankfully does not wither Kellon alongside the insects.

Gustav raises a claw to slash at Elisabeth again, this time catching her fully in the side of her head and tearing it off, sending it scattering across the room - still screaming in rage until it slams into the wall. Her body falls to the ground, limp.

Kellon casts Guiding Bolt on Elisabeth Durst, dealing 14 radiant damage and marking her for attack. Two more centipede swarms spawn, already at half strength.

Shadow B uses Strength Drain in Gweyir, dealing 6 necrotic damage and 4 Strength damage.

Anton casts Striga Fulmen on Shadow A, dealing 5 lightning damage.
Spider flanks Shadow A and attacks, for a 6 damage Sneak Attack.
Rose uses Withering Touch on Centipede Swarm A, dealing 12 necrotic damage.

Elisabeth uses Swarm Lash on Kellon and Gustav. Kellon is fine, but Gustav takes 3 damage.
Swarm A attacks Kellon, but misses.
Swarm B attacks Gustav, dealing 5 damage.
Swarm C attacks Kellon, but misses.
Swarm D attacks Gustav, but misses.
Shadow C uses Strength Drain on Kellon, hitting for 10 necrotic damage and 3 Strength damage.

Friendly Zombie kicks at Shadow E, hitting for 1 damage.
Gweyir casts Healing Word to heal Kellon for 5, then attacks Shadow B for 2 damage.
Thorn uses Withering Touch on Swarm A, dealing 15 necrotic damage and clearing it away.

Shadow A attacks Anton, but misses.
Shadow D attacks Gustav, but misses.
Shadow E uses Strength Drain on Friendly Zombie, dealing 9 damage and 3 Strength damage.

Gustav attacks Elisabeth, but misses hits, dealing 10 damage and bringing her down.

It is Kellon's turn!

Juuust gonna repost this for myself, since it's a bigger one
Gustav Durst - 21
Kellon - 19
Shadow B - 19
Anton - 16
Spider - 15
Rose Durst - 14
Elisabeth Durst and Centipedes - 13
Shadow C - 11
Friendly Zombie? - 8
Gweyir - 6
Thorn Durst - 5
Shadow A & D - 5
Shadow E - 4

[Prehysterical]

The so-called temple is a madhouse of crawling vermin, shouts, and flitting shadows. Kellon sees Elizabeth's head wrenched off and fights through the wave of weakness running through his body. Gweyir is right... There are too many. It is time to risk it... He could contain it no more.

Kellon takes a few wobbly steps forward, but sets his feet firmly as he glares at the shadows. His eyes glow with blue energy as he spreads his arms wide. When he speaks, it is as if the Storm itself manifested underground. "THUNDERSTRUCK!" His hands clap together in a cacophony of noise.
Kellon casts Thunderwave with himself in the top-right corner.
It should have Shadows B, D, and E within its effect. I can't tell if Centipede Swarm D would also be within the blast radius.
Kellon is going to use his daily Channel Divinity to invoke Destructive Wrath. The spell deals max damage (16) and knocks the Shadows away. If they pass a Con save, they only take 8 damage and aren't pushed. Use thunder or lightning, whichever deals more damage.

[RandomWombat]

The thunderous boom briefly deafens the room, and the ominous chanting, as the three shadows are scattered against the wall. The one attacking Gweyir wobbles, but retains its form as it peels off of the wall. It weakly lurches to the side, reaching out for her. This time she is wary, however, and ducks aside out of the way.

As if sympathetically empowered by Kellon's invoking of the Storm, Anton's spell pulses with great force and scatters the shadow into wisps of smoke. Spider turns around and instead bites at the other, though its fangs are far less mighty against these spectral foes. When the shadow turns to repay in kind, Spider backs off and skitters to and fro, evading its slow and ponderous grasp.

Rose grabs at the rest of the centipedes on the ground, trying not to look at her mother's body on the floor. The swarm withers and dies, until the last few scatter hopelessly. Many of them remain furiously focused on Gustav, who bats them away as they tear at his rotting flesh and slough it off onto the floor. "Papa!" Thorn runs over to him, doing his best to pick off the overflowing little vermin.

"Thank you, my boy."

"Well, this has been comfy, but now that crazy lady is dead I think I'm going to try myself..." the friendly zombie looks up at the rusty pin holding his shackles to the wall and winds up, then tugs against it with all his might. Even drained by the shadows, he busts free of the wall and reaches down to pick up a femur from one of his fellow dungeon decorations in his still-shackled hands. "Alright, who wants a piece of Sokol Twiceborn? I still have a few left!" His bravado soon fades along with his strength as the shadow from before grabs onto him and continues draining him.

Gweyir welcomes him to the team by driving a sword through the shadow trapped between them and dispelling it into smoke. "The tide turns! Keep fighting!"

"Yes, about that - maybe not so many pieces as I thought. Hand please!"

The last shadow slides across the floor at Kellon, but he repels it with his shining spear as it gets too close, and it recoils from the light. Gustav circles it and slashes it across the back from the other side.

As Kellon moves, Shadow C takes an attack of opportunity, but misses.
Kellon casts a maximized Thunderwave, dealing 16 damage to Shadows B, D and E. The shadows resist the damage and take 8, but none of them pass their save to halve it again.

Shadow B attacks Gweyir, but misses.

Anton pulses his spell, dealing 5 unavoidable lightning damage to Shadow A and destroying it.
Spider bites Shadow C, dealing 3 damage with a Sneak Attack.
Rose uses Withering Touch on Swarm C, dealing 11 necrotic damage and destroying it.

Swarm C and D attack Gustav, dealing 10 damage total.
Shadow C attacks Spider, but misses.

Friendly Zombie uses Athletics to break free of his Restrained condition, and picks up an improvised club.
Gweyir attacks Shadow B, critically hitting for 5 damage and finishing it off.
Thorn uses Withering Touch on Swarm D, dealing 18 necrotic damage and destroying it.

Shadow D attacks Kellon, but misses.
Shadow E attacks Sokol, dealing 8 necrotic damage and 1 Strength damage.

Gustav flanks and slashes Shadow D for 3 damage.

It is now Kellon's turn!

Gustav Durst - 21
Kellon - 19
Shadow B - 19
Anton - 16
Spider - 15
Rose Durst - 14
Elisabeth Durst and Centipedes - 13
Shadow C - 11
Sokol - 8
Gweyir - 6
Thorn Durst - 5
Shadow A & D - 5
Shadow E - 4

[Prehysterical]

Indeed, the tide turns, but best not let it sweep their feet out from under them. Kellon shoves the glowing head of the spear into the shadow's face.
Attacks on Shadow D
[roll0]
[roll1]

Damage: [roll2] Magical Pierce

[RandomWombat]

The spear makes contact, sinking slowly into the shadow's form. Though the damage is minimal, its shape begins to flicker and waver, struggling to hold together. There is a thunk as a bolt flies past it and clatters into the walls. Anton makes a small disappointed noise as he starts reloading the crossbow he's drawn, his lamp now on the floor beside him.

Kellon leans back, avoiding a deathly touch from the shadow facing him, but he soon finds centipedes crawling up onto him again, biting and crawling into his shell. As he struggles to fight them off, he feels a chill run through him as Thorn passes into and out of his body, using his full form to kill of almost all of the swarming insects.

From behind, Gustav sticks both of his clawed hands deep into the shadow, and pulls them apart, ripping the monster in half.

Spider rears up again, biting at the shadow menacing it, but its cautious attacks don't quite reach the target. Rose tries to grab onto the shadow, but her ghostly touch seems not to affect it at all, so instead she tries to grab it from behind and hold it in place. Despite her smaller size, she manages to hold its 'arms' back, as it struggles and wriggles to get free, shaking her off.

The zombie, 'Sokol', wields the femur with desperate strength as he pounds it into the shadow's 'head'. The amorphous skull ripples and bounces like gelatin. Gweyir comes up beside him and takes a swing at it, but it tilts at an unnatural angle out of the way of her blade. It lurches forwards 'biting' Sokol with its shadowy jaws. The zombie falters and nearly collapses, but manages to get a hold of the misty material and shove the shadow back.

Kellon strikes Shadow D for 3 damage.
Anton draws his light crossbow and shoots at Shadow D, but misses.
Spider attacks Shadow C, but misses.
Rose grapples Shadow C.

Swarm B attacks Kellon, dealing 6 damage.
Shadow C attempts to break the grapple, and succeeds.

Sokol swings at Shadow E, hitting for 2 damage. He uses Action Surge to swing again, hitting for 1 damage. Then he uses Second Wind to recover... 3 hit points.
Gweyir attacks Shadow E, but misses.
Thorn uses Withering Touch on Swarm B, dealing 20 necrotic damage.

Shadow D attacks Kellon, but misses.
Shadow E uses Strength Drain on Sokol, hitting for 8 necrotic damage and 3 Strength damage. Sokol passes an Undead Fortitude save to remain at 1 hit point instead of being destroyed.

Gustav slashes Shadow D, dealing 5 damage and destroying it.

It is Kellon's turn!

Gustav Durst - 21
Kellon - 19
Anton - 16
Spider - 15
Rose Durst - 14
Centipedes - 13
Shadow C - 11
Sokol - 8
Gweyir - 6
Thorn Durst - 5
Shadow D - 5
Shadow E - 4

[Prehysterical]

Though Kellon is on the verge of collapsing himself, he realizes that the strange talking dead man will soon be truly dead if he does not help. He rushes forward and thrusts at the shadow.
Attack on Shadow E
[roll0]
[roll1] Magic Pierce

[RandomWombat]

This time, Kellon puts more directional force into the thrust, and the spear pierces clean through the Shadow, clanging against the wall as the monster fades into grey smoke. A call of "Suffosio!" is followed by the crunching and creaking sounds of the last of the centipedes curling up to die.

As the last shadow is pulling away from Rose's grip, Spider jumps on top of it and delivers a powerful bite, tearing bits and pieces of it out. Rose grabs onto it from behind, holding it in place as Spider rips and tears. In spite of its attempts to grab onto Spider and deliver one last parting attack, Rose holds it fast.

"Many thanks, turtle man! Let us... let us finish this!" Sokol spins on his heel and walks with stiff steps towards the last shadow, his limbs drooping weakly. He delivers a small, weak blow with his club, stumbling forwards. He even grabs a hold of it and tries to pull it apart with his hands and teeth, but he's just too weakened by their draining magic. Sword in both hands. Gweyir walks over and delivers the final blow, plunging it through the shadow's 'skull'.

The zombie man falls backwards and lays on the floor. "Guh. I haven't felt this terrible since I was alive."

With the last of the monsters banished, Thorn and Rose run up to Gustav. "Why were all the bugs in mama?" "What happened down here?"

Gustav looks down at them, guilt and sorrow in his eyes. "I hoped that you would never see what happened down here." He raises a clawed hand, trying to brush some hair from Rose's face, but it only flickers in wisps until she reaches up to brush it away herself.

Kellon strikes Shadow E for 10 damage, destroying it.
Anton picks up his wand and casts Suffosio, dealing 4 necrotic damage and finishing off Swarm B.
Spider bites Shadow C for 8 damage.
Rose grapples Shadow C.

Shadow C attempts to attack Spider, but misses.

Sokol strikes Shadow C for 1 damage, and bites it for 1 damage.
Gweyir strikes Shadow C for 4 damage, finishing it off.

Combat has ended.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon leans on the spear, feeling more tired than he ever has in his life. His claws shake as he quaffs his emergency potion, little red droplets dripping over the side of his beak.
Potions heals [roll0] damage

He watches as the children reunite with their father. This man has created great evil, but he had proven that his love for his children carried even beyond the grave. Kellon puts strength into his voice as he tells the ghast, "Gustav... The children cannot stay here. There will be no peace for them in this house. It is unhallowed ground."

[RandomWombat]

"I know," the man looks up at the stone ceiling, a bleak grey just like the sky outside. "But this place, this house... it will not allow us to leave. Curses in Barovia hold power, outsider. Even for those who have none." He turns and faces Kellon, face grave. "All of the evil, every sin and torment that unfolded here, the misplaced faith of our followers. It has transformed this place."

While they speak, Gweyir examines part of the wall near Spider, which is a soft clay rather than stone. She pulls part of the clay away, revealing a door underneath. "Where does this go?"

"A hidden escape tunnel, into the den," the old ghoul answers. "You all can leave... but no Durst can leave this place."

"You said that the house will not allow you to leave?" Anton asks, crossbow put away and lamp back in hand as he walks over. "It is some form of genius loci, a place with a mind?"

"I believe so."

"Then... what do we do?" Rose asks her father, looking up at him.

"Its thirst for blood must be slaked with sacrifice, in the pits below this temple. Then, it may allow you both to leave." Turning to Kellon again, Gustav fixes him with a look. "I would much prefer to be free of this place... to perhaps be reborn as a better man in the next life. But if anyone should pay the price for this, it is I."

"Papa, no! We just got you back!" small ghost hands tug at his robe, barely moving it.

[Prehysterical]

Kellon looks around the chamber, seeing the entire place in a new light. The house itself as an adversary...

He scratches at the stinging welts from the centipede bites on his leg as Gustav offers himself up as the sacrificial lamb. "Don't be so eager to walk the plank, sailor... There might be another way." His head turns toward Gweyir as he asks, "Any of that healing magic left? I'm completely spent."

[RandomWombat]

Though his face looks uncertain, Gustav nods slowly, not commenting on the chance of an escape.

"Barely," Gweyir answers. "I don't think we're in any condition to fight a house like this. We need a safe place to rest."

"That, I can offer," Gustav intercedes, walking down the small corridor to the side of the temple chamber. "The house's power is not as strong outside of the above, and the pit below. The bedchambers used by the cult we gathered should still be serviceable. And I have some things to offer..."

"Ng," the zombified man pulls himself off of the floor, limbs creaking and cracking like those of an old man. "I do not suppose you mind, if old Sokol tags along, ay?"

Gweyir reaches down and helps him up, though her nose wrinkles a bit at the smell of him. "Who... are you, exactly?"

"He is one of our many victims..." reaching out with a hand, Gustav places it against the door ahead of him. The door twists and morphs, forming many bloodshot yellow eyes and a twisted mouth.

The door is a Mimic, monstrosities that can take the form of mundane objects and lie in wait for their prey.

"Pass Word" the door croaks.

"Wind in the wealds."

"Welcome Home" the door recites again, opening into a small room. A chandelier is suspended above a table in the middle of the room. Two high-backed chairs flank the table, which has an empty clay jug and two clay flagons atop it. Iron candlesticks stand in two corners, their candles long since melted away.

Gustav walks into the room and takes a seat at the table, Thorn and Rose following behind him like little ducklings that finally found their parent.

[Prehysterical]

Unsure of how he feels about Gustav's "offer", Kellon nonetheless follows him into sanctuary. They really don't have much of a choice. As he steps through the doorway, Kellon fights his imagination; the image of teeth crunching down and trapping him is too strong...

Kellon elects to leave the seat open for someone else, perhaps like the this-shy-of-falling-apart zombie. "How long has this curse kept you?"

[RandomWombat]

Sokol seems to simply lean back against the wall and slide down to the floor, and Gweyir simply leans on the back of the chair, still somewhat wary.

"It is difficult to say. I seldom see the light of day, such as it is. It must be years now," the ghoul leans back in his chair, eyes closed. Though it seems strange to think that undead could tire, he looks every bit like a man who has not slept in all those years. "We lured in some adventurers, playthings that Strahd had drawn into his domain... much like you, I imagine. In answer he slaughtered us all, for we had taken away his fun. But when the curse woke us, Elisabeth and her followers believed it a blessing. Undead immortality, as that of Strahd himself."

"I'm a bit confused, if you don't mind answering another question," Anton interrupts. "The little ones refer to Strahd as a devil, but you say he is undead?"

"Strahd is a vampire, and more. He is Darklord of all Barovia, and the Mists move to his whim. The towsfolk, they call him a devil because to them he is one. Poisoned deals, twisted words and terrible pacts. These are how he entertains himself."

Anton nods, taking a seat in the other chair and crossing his legs thoughtfully as he brings down his journal to mark some things down.

The question answered, Gustav returns to his previous topic. "This way," he motions aside, to the hallway the ghouls had attacked in. "In a hallway near the stairs is a pit of spikes covered loosely with boards. It is simple enough to go around if you know that it is there. Go further on this floor, and you will find the cult's bedchambers. Any of their things are yours' if you wish." Then he motions behind himself, down a shorter hall into what Kellon can see is a bedroom with a bed for two. "And in... our bedchamber, Elisabeth and I, we kept some trophies from past visitors. They are yours' as well. Perhaps something here will help you. I will be here... when you are ready to face whatever comes next."

[Prehysterical]

How powerful was this vampire? He really did seem to have the reach of an archdevil...

Before Kellon goes to search the bedchambers for items, Kellon asks Gustav, "Why does Strahd bring adventurers to Barovia? We are from different planes and Anton here received a personal invitation. Why us?"

[RandomWombat]

"That, I do not know," is all that Gustav can say. "He chastised us for ruining his entertainment. You may just be here to shake up the dreary monotony that is Barovia."

Gweyir's frown deepens, and she clutches the back of Anton's chair. "So we're just toys, then."

[Prehysterical]

The thought that some being specifically picked them out like a fish at market is... disquieting.

"Right now, it's all we can do to break the curse on this house. See what you can find." Kellon goes on to inspect the Durst bedchambers.

[RandomWombat]

Gweyir follows him, while Anton finishes with his journal and closes it. He helps Sokol up and they begin making their way to the cult's quarters, alongside Spider following behind. Rose and Thorn linger with their father.

Within the Dursts' bedchamber is a wooden bed with a rotten feather mattress. A few iron candlesticks sit on the nightstand, and the wardrobe contains a few robes and dresses. A crate in the corner contains a pile of unlit torches, which still seem to be good enough to use.

A chest at the foot of the bed contains a folded cloak with a slight silvery sheen to it, an unlocked wooden coffer containing four healing potions, a chain shirt, a mess kit with light metal kitchenware and utensils, a flask of alchemist's fire, a bullseye lantern, a set of lockpicks and other thieves' tools, and a spellbook with a yellowed leather cover.

"What do you think of all this?" Gweyir asks, as they sort through the contents.

[Prehysterical]

It seems to be a real mixed bag. "Definitely taking the alchemist's fire and healing potions. The lockpicks might make for a good gift for Spider. We should take the spellbook and cloak to Anton for him to take a look at it."