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Curse of Strahd

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Nope, nope and nope to all of this. Bram was gonna burn the house down and THEN they'd deal with whatever Ismark has got going on. Karl was probably smart enough to realize that a house was on fire. This was the right choice of action and it'd eliminate a single problem on their list of ISSUES. He still had at a good bottle of oil and some cloth left in his belongings. So now was the time to fashion a makeshift armament with which to bring down this house. Throwing a lit rag soaking in the oil bottle on fire and throwing it directly at the house, Bram hoped he had enough materials to burn the entire place down. If not, he'd just use his Blood Magic to set his Morningstar on fire instead...
 
"Dynis? Dynis?" Arala calls out inside. Damn it. She's been concerned about this very thing happening. She rubs her forehead. There might be a chance if they all went inside to find her. She's not scared of death, but Arala knows that the others don't feel the same way... and what she said earlier still holds true. Going at night would be folly. As callous at it seems (and feels), it might be best to search in the morning and hope Dynis can hold out. Arala will have to ask the others first, of course.

She hears the tail end of the conversation about letters. "I have them," she says, turning around. Arala pulls them from her pouch and hands them. "Be careful, though. There's some kind of spell on them."

Karl starts shouting. Arala turns back in time to see oil splash against the house. Oh, hells. Burning down the house is a valid option if there's no one inside, and if they're sure the village won't lynch them for it. Both of which... can be done in the morning. If there's a chance that Dynis is alive, Arala would rather not end those chances in fire.

She stretches out a hand and uses a minor cantrip with the intent of putting it out.

"Bram," she says mildly, "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but Karl is right. Let's not burn Dynis alive, if she's still alive, and we should make sure that the town is alright with our arson. We don't want the fire to spread, either."

(... sometimes it feels like herding cats. Or worse, herding her siblings.)
 
Remielle, the mist—the damnable mist that has kept you trapped within the borders of Barovia lands—is extremely thick tonight in town. You have been drawn by commotion outside the abandoned house. Having been here some time, you know this house is at best haunted. And at worst...death.

You can’t see two feet in front of you the mist is so thick. But you know your way. And you can hear lots of voices—some shouting—so it’s easy to follow. A tiny light springs up ahead, a small fire. Then it’s gone.

You emerge in front of the haunted Death House—as the locals call it—where several men and women discuss what’s happening to them. There a half-orc woman, a young human man, an elf man—probably wood elf, and a Yuan-ti man.

What do you do?


Everyone else, you stand outside the house having just put out the fire when a Kalasthar woman appears out of the mist.

What do you all do?

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The sound of shouting draws Remielle in. She was very curious, but also tense. This area was well known to be haunted, and Remi had traveled around Barovia long enough to know that you took allegations like that seriously. There should be no reason for anyone to go in there. Not for any savory reasons.

Catching the fading scent of burnt wood, she uses prestidigitation to make it smell a tad nicer, and gauges the group. "I don't think setting fire to the house will clear the ghosts out. Probably need to bury the remains, then burn them "
 
Setesh spins around, his usual indifference giving way to mild exasperation. Nothing is going the way it was supposed to - although, is there really a way things were supposed to go, given that they had knowlingy walked into a fucking trap? From then on, it has been pretty clear they would be leaving themselves exposed to whatever fate decided to put them through. So, the only annoying thing, really, is the level of stupidity they have been approaching things with.

"If the ghosts' bodies are in the house or underneath it, we should be fine. It's a safe bet seeing as we don't know where else they could be," he replies to the woman who seems to have been attracted by the argument in front of the ghost house. "But there's a living person in there, too." There's only one way known to him to deal with a messy situation: try and reinstate order. "Here's what we are going to do," he says in a tone that indicates he wants to hear no argument. "I'm sending my snake in. Once she's back, she will tell us if there are enemies inside and how many, and if she was able to find the damn knight. If the knight is dead or gone, we torch the place. If she's alive and in need of assistance, we go in. Those who think they're not strong enough to deal with any more shit today can stay outside as a backup."
 
Ozil had been more than ready to pass the group of strangers by. He hadn't gotten to 106 by being foolish. When you saw strange folk who were each strange in a different way, all of them standing around with weapons and foreign clothing and discussing ghosts, that meant adventurers. And adventurers were always more trouble than they were worth.

But disgraced or not, he was still a cleric, and he had a certain duty to uphold. "If your friend is trapped in that house, I may be able to offer some assistance," he said, stepping forward. Everyone else was at least a head taller than him. It was damned disquieting. "I am a healer."
 
Setesh frowns, concentrating on Akasha's report, and tries to picture where the Palladin had been. Was there an entrance to the cellar? Could she, in fact, have not disappeared, but merely gone to explore the place where he suspected the bodies of those ghosts were likely located? But then, there are hostile creatures - or their undead souls - there, which means she -is- in need of assistance. He toys with the idea of sending the snake down there, but losing her would be more painful than losing any of the people who came with him. See if you can find an entrance to... down there, he instructs, "human sized, not just good enough for you. Then come back. "Apparently, the spirits or other...being... have gathered underground," he informs the others. "Might be where the palladin has gone, but I can't be sure."
 
Arala sawthe woman approach from the mist. She tensed, hand on a weapon, but relaxed marginally when the woman offered a suggestion. She looked like a local. This was all speculation, of course, until Arala actually asks. Setesh speaks up, offering a plan of action that Arala doesn't disagree with. She simply nods, though Arala is troubled by burning it down. Even if Dynis isn't visible, that doesn't mean she isn't there. Burning alive is a horrible way to go.

But perhaps it's the paladin's time to join Death. Perhaps it would be a kindness, even if she's young to enter that last embrace. Arala makes a mental note to find more about Dynis' family and let them know of her death... if she is indeed lost.

A dwarven man approached. He was on the older side, and gave off an aura of experience. And he was a healer, too. That would definitely come in handy.

"Thank you for your advice and your offer of assistance," Arala says to both of the newcomers. She smiles carefully. "I am Arala Goresinger. We're outsiders to this town, and we've already run into trouble, unfortunately. We would indeed appreciate your help."
 
Remielle nods to Arala. "Remielle Bluewind. Was a singer till I wound up here." She says, looking at everyone, then to the house, listening. "If you guys have a friend down there we probably shouldn't leave him in there." She agrees.

The blue haired beauty moves her hair out of her eyes, looking at the ground. "Below, huh? If he's down below, he had to have gotten there somehow. Might want to check the place out."
 
"We sure Dynis is downstairs? She kinda just... vanished."

Karl scans the two newcomers with incredibly suspicious eyes, then grins at them. He reaches out and taps both of them on the forehead tentatively, as if checking for something.

"Sorry," Karl says, "We just saw some ghosts and I just needed to check. I'm Karl Murdoch, by-the-by."

He winks at Remielle, then turns to the dwarf. "Didn't quite catch your name?"
 
"Ozil Watersdeep." He gave Karl a slightly irritable look. "I'd think ghosts would be a mite more translucent than I. In any case, there could be an old cellar that was boarded up. If you're really fixing to get down there, all we'd have to do is chop through the floor."

(I'm obviously fine on spells so I'm good either way WlfSamurai WlfSamurai )
 
"Yeah, well, you should've seen the kids earlier," Karl says, "And I'm all for doing the rescue, just... the whole reason the knight needs a rescue is that she stepped inside and fucking vanished. So.... your snake still doing okay, there?"
 
"Yes," Setesh answers ponderiously, forgeting for once about their disagreements because this clearly is a puzzle. "It is strange, though, that she cannot find any entrance into the cellar or whatever lays beneath the house." He has to admit that there appears to be no solution to the mystery. "Perhaps she really has vanished, yet it can also be as simple as a trapdoor. I think we should go inside, but perhaps tie a rope around the first person's waist and hold on to it, to make sure we do not lose them. Then we can pull them out if they fall through the floor, or, if we get teleported, we'll at least be there together."
 
"Just because something hasn't been found doesn't mean it doesn't exist." Remielle said, looking down at the floor. "It's always possible that there is a tunnel or the like that just happens to run under the place, or perhaps there is indeed a hidden way. Either way if it;s to save a life, we should go. This place will try to kill you however it can. Don;t break your spirits here, feeling like you could have done more."
 
The wrought iron gate’s hinges shriek as you open it. The oil lamps gutter above you in the entryway. Opening the doors, you again find the same foyer as before. Hanging on the south wall of the foyer is a shield emblazoned with a coat-of-arms (a stylized golden windmill on a red field), flanked by framed portraits of stony-faced aristocrats. Mahogany-framed double doors set with stained glass are all that separate you from the inside of the house.

You enter through those and find the main hall. It runs the width of the house, with a black marble fireplace at one end and a sweeping, red marble staircase at the other. Mounted on the wall above the fireplace is a longsword with a windmill cameo worked into the hilt. The wood-paneled walls are ornately sculpted with images of vines, flowers, nymphs, and satyrs. The decorative paneling follows the staircase as it circles upward to the second floor.

The room is dark, but not pitch black. A single candle flickers on the mantel above the fireplace. Shadows dance across all the floor.

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Bram hadn't planned on heading into the obviously haunted house that seemed like a breeding ground for ghosts. Yet the moment he caught sight of Remielle, he was done for. All the charms of an older woman but with the beauty of a young one. She seemed kind of sad or sullen from what he could see. Something must have happened to her fairly recently. When she voiced her plans to move inside, Bram reluctantly tried to motivate himself to go inside. Ixl'Van's training let him bring out the best of his Darkvision. Hence why he could see in the dark, if only in greys. A single solitary candle flickers above the fireplace. Scratching his chin, Bram made his way towards the fireplace and tried to look around for anymore candles to light. Best if they start gathering light and flame as soon as they could, fire was a good tool in many instances.
 
Stepping inside the room, the chill in the air keeps Remielle alert. She was happy to help of course, but every second she was in here, she was cheating death. The group she was with was obviously new to Barovia and thus still had their will to fight. In this land, fighting got you killed.

But however ow the chances, there was still a chance Reina was in here somewhere

"Let's see." She says, taking a loow around. Her gaze was naturally drawn to the fireplace, as it was the only light in the area. "Hmmm, either your friend is overly cautious and this is a trap or something nabbed him while he was investigating the room. Might as welll start by checking the area around the light source." She says, beginning to feel around the area."
 
Arala watches Bram's newest infatuation with mild amusement. He's certainly helpless to a pretty face. (It's a good thing that it's her and not one of her more aesthetically pleasing sisters who went on this journey. They would have eaten him alive. Not quite literally... well, maybe literally, in Preta's case.) The new woman seemed to be competent, at least, though a bit reckless in her do-gooding. Arala approves, even if she's personally more cautious.

"It's a bit late for the rope idea," says Arala, as Bram and Remielle already went further inside. "At this point, we might as well let the cards fall where they will. Besides, I feel that a rope might only hinder us, making it easier for a potential beast to grab one and drag us all to our doom."

With one last glance behind, she heads inside, Angel Bones on her shoulder. The room has a sense of decayed opulence, glory had and glory lost. She eyes the candle. Her eyes are well-suited to the darkness, but light is always welcome. Arala takes a torch from her pack, and with a simple act of prestidigitation, lights it. She holds it aloft.

"I suggest we check the first floor before heading up the stairs," says Arala. She gestures to the nearest door. "If we can't find anything here, perhaps we can head further in." Arala examines the two doors: one seemed more like a closet than a passageway.
 
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Ozil followed the others into the room, glancing around. It seemed an ordinary home--nice enough, with all the portraits and the stained glass. There were no ominous ghostly noises or spooky mists or anything that he would have expected from a haunted house. There was also no knight waiting for them. Indeed, there was no sign that anyone had been in here at all.

"I agree," he said, nodding at Arala's suggestion. "If the young'uns are looking at the fireplace--" Not that Arala could have been much older, however old orcs got, anyway-- "I'll go through here." Without waiting for a torch, he pushed open the door on the right.
 
In the main hall, everyone taking a moment notices that skulls and serpents have been woven into the decorations and wall designs. Everything is covered in dust. The air smells stale and old.

Remielle, after your ritual, you are not seeing any magical auras in this room.

Ozil, you head into the den. The room is painted in a ghostly grey as dim light is allowed through the two translucent windows. It's an oak-paneled room and looks like a hunter's den. Mounted above the fireplace is a stag's head, and positioned around the outskirts of the room are three stuffed wolves.

Two padded chairs draped in animal furs face the empty hearth, with an oak table between them supporting a cask of wine, two carved wooden goblets, a pipe rack, and a candelabrum. A chandelier hangs above a cloth-covered table surrounded by four chairs.

Two cabinets stand against the walls.

The room sounds muted from the furnishing and thick rug, as if trying to capture every sound from escaping.

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