Giles frowns and spots the flying broom, he focuses on his floating, telekinetic mage hand to try and grasp the thing again and push it down into the black pudding.  He looks over the rail, casting sacred flame on the black pudding, trying to burn it, as well.  He moves up near the top of the stairs at the second floor, scanning the room.  

Action : Casts sacred flame on the black pudding : DC 15 Dex save or the black pudding takes 8 points of radiant damage.  

Bonus action : Telekinetic hand to shove the broom of animated attack and push it down into the black pudding, DC 15 strength save to resist.  

Quote from Damian_May >>

Burr glowers, but his senses tell him that the witch is no longer here, for the wolves senses would not be fooled by her turning invisible....

" Cannibal Coward.", he mutters.

He moves over to the cages and attempts to wrench them open.

Action Surge to get to both cages.  ( Rage fades as no damage and nothing to attack- so no advantage on rolls.)

Cage 1- Athletics to open- 19

Cage 2- Athletics to open- 14

Advantage Rolls- 

Cage 1- Athletics to open- 17

Cage 2- Athletics to open- 8

Offalia Wolf STR Saves:  15  22

Bella Wolf STR Saves:  5

Broom STR Save:  11

Pudding DEX Save:  -2

With a growl of frustration, Burr barrels past the circling wolves and storms toward the open closet where the two children huddle in their cages.  Without hesitation, he grips the iron bars and wrenches the doors free with a shriek of twisting metal.  The children flinch, recoiling at first from the sheer force of the act.  The little boy climbs out of his cage and looks up at Burr with wide, wary eyes.  “Did the headmistress send you to fetch us?” he asks hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.  The girl beside him clings to his arm, eyes darting toward the wolves still pacing nearby.

Sensing there is no more fight here, the wolves turn in unison, their ears twitching toward the stairs.  In a blur of fur and fangs, they surge downward, bounding toward the battle below.  On the second floor, three of the wolves leap at Offalia.  She twists to avoid the worst of their bites, her sharp cackle filling the air as she bats one away with a clawed hand.  Two find their mark, their jaws sinking into her flesh, but she braces herself and stays upright, barking right back at them in madcap defiance.

Meanwhile, on the ground floor, Hawthorne circles Bella, growling deep in its throat.  With a sudden lunge, it clamps onto her arm and yanks with all its might.  Bella lets out a surprised shriek as her feet slip, her body crashing hard to the floor.  She hisses in fury, her nails scraping against the wood as she glares at the wolf.

Giles  calls down a mote of radiant fire upon the shifting, amorphous mass of the Black Pudding.  The dark ooze makes no effort to evade the descending light, as if it lacks the awareness or the will to react.  The holy flame strikes true, searing a bubbling patch of its inky surface.  A foul, acrid stench fills the air, even worse than the pudding’s natural reek, as a thin wisp of smoke curls upward from the scorched wound.  Giles shifts his focus to the Animated Broom hovering stubbornly above the fray.  With a flick of his fingers, his spectral Mage Hand materializes once more and delivers a forceful shove, aiming to send the broom tumbling toward the sloshing mass below.  The broom wobbles in the air, knocked aside but not down, hovering just beyond the surface of the hungry, sizzling ooze.  [The broom has the hover ability and is immune to being knocked prone.]

Tourmaline extends a hand, her fingers curling as she conjures a toxic green mist, sending it surging toward Bella with another Poison Spray.  The hag, still sprawled on the ground, narrows her eyes and waves a clawed hand through the air, muttering an incantation.  In an instant, the poisonous cloud vanishes into nothingness—snuffed out before it can reach her.  Bella cackles darkly, her sharp teeth flashing in the dim light.

But Tourmaline is undeterred.  “Victor, now!  Hit her with all you’ve got!” she calls, knowing the hag has expended her ability to counter another spell.

Victor nods nervously, gathering raw arcane energy into his hands. He thrusts them forward, sending three crackling force blasts hurtling toward Bella. 

• Arcane Blast (w/dis):  10  
• Arcane Blast (w/dis):  20  Force Damage:  15
• Arcane Blast (w/dis):  11

But the hag’s prone position works to her advantage; two of the blasts sail just over her, slamming harmlessly into the wall near the stairs.  The third, however, strikes home with a meaty thud, driving into her side with enough force to rattle her bones.  Bella coughs, more irritated than wounded, her yellow eyes glinting with malice.

Tourmaline clicks her tongue, shaking her head.  “Oh, Victor,” she sighs dramatically.  “Do better.  We won’t get any second chances here.”

As if to punctuate Tourmaline’s words with cruel irony, the Black Pudding suddenly heaves, its inky form roiling.  A thick pseudopod surges upward and then crashes down upon her in a brutal, shapeless mass. 

• Pseudopod Attack:  13  Bludgeoning Damage:  9  Acid Damage:  17

The impact sends slaps her fiercely, but far worse is the searing agony that follows—wherever the oozing tendril touches, her clothing smokes and dissolves, her skin blistering as the corrosive slime hungrily eats into her flesh.  A strangled cry escapes her lips as she staggers back, her legs barely holding her upright.  Every movement seems to burn her as she gasps.  The acrid stench of melting fabric, hair and flesh fills the air.  She sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, swaying on her feet but refusing to fall.  “Oh… that’s unpleasant,” she rasps, voice tight with pain.  Her usual noble bravado is still there—but just barely, as she fights to stay conscious.

The Animated Broom, seemingly chastened by Giles' repeated rejections, floats carefully over the seething mass of the Pudding, coming to a rest just between Victor and the badly wounded Tourmaline.

[Soren is up!]

Nettle circles the second floor of the windmill with Flyby.  She takes the help action against Offalia once more, moving back near Zefla.

Rattled by Offalia's unerring guided magical darts and their threat to his concentration on primal summoning magic, Soren trots upstairs, out of the hag's line of sight.  Knowing Morgantha has vanished for now, and seeing the two children there liberated by Burr, Soren pauses.

"Cubs - ah..., children!  I am Soren, this is Burr.  We are Saskia's friends."  Despite his rapid breathing and abiding curse, Soren tries to keep his voice calm.  "We came with Lady Ireena to free you.  The wolves are friends too, they fight for us.  Are there any other captives here to free, little ones?"

The druid turns to his warrior friend.  "Burr, you freed them!  The way out is blocked by the other two hags and a monstrous acidic ooze on the bottom floor that the hag there summoned from the barrel of foul black ichor, the wolves tell me.  We must fight our way out.  Unless you wish to break a window, tie off a rope, and help them climb down?  We may also want to search up the trap door for any other captives or secret magic..."

Soren considers, but the battle downstairs sounds too urgent to ignore while searching the upper floor.  "I leave it to you, Burr.  I am headed down to fight."

With that, Soren looks down out the southeast window of the the windmill's third floor.  He speaks a word in Elvish and vanishes in a mist of green-tinged silver.  Appearing on the ground just outside the windmill's entrance, he lashes at the [Tooltip Not Found] with his thorny vines, his attack impeded by his lingering curse.  Finally, he moves to hug the outer wall of the windmill to the side of the entrance and out of view from the visible hags.

Movement:  S - SE (15' to third floor) NE - Misty Step out window to ground outside entrance, attack, then 10' more to hug outer wall beside entrance.

Action:  Thorn Whip melee spell attack (30' range) from outside windmill entrance at black pudding (disadvantage due to curse).
Thorn Whip to hit black pudding at disadvantage:  16
Thorn Whip damage:  5 (magical piercing)
Forced Movement:  none (drag large or smaller creatures up to 10' closer, Soren chooses 0')

Bonus Action:  Misty Step - 1/day without spell slot from Fey Touched feat.

Soren materialized downstairs and thwacks the Pudding, wisely electing not to drag it overtop of the struggling Tourmaline, who seems surprised at his sudden appearance.  

"What is happening in there?" Ireena asks Soren, alarmed to see him hiding against the exterior of the mill.  

Offalia calls up the stairs after Soren, her raspy voice thick with mockery.  “Druid, are you hiding?  Won't you come back down and help your beasts beat on an old woman?” She waits a beat, listening for a response.  When none comes, she huffs in irritation, blowing a stray wisp of gray hair from her face.  “How dull,” she mutters.

Then her gaze slides to Zefla—the little halfling who had dared to stab her so deeply.  A slow, cruel smile spreads across the hag’s face. “Oh, you’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” she coos, extending a long, gnarled hand.  "How about we play catch, hmmn?"  Three glowing motes of force spiral outward from her fingertips, streaking through the air with a faint hum.

• Magic Missile:  5,  4,  5

Zefla barely has time to flinch before they slam into her, one after another.  The first strikes her shoulder, spinning her slightly to the side.  The second hammers into her ribs, forcing a sharp gasp from her lips.  The third collides with her midsection, nearly knocking her from her feet.  Offalia cackles, her sharp teeth flashing.  “You're a natural!  What raw talent...”.  She licks her lips in a very unsettling way.

[Zefla is up!]

The missiles strike the halfling, yes, but she is able to use her reaction of uncanny dodge to twist her body as such to lessen the blow of the three darts.  She glares at Offalia, "Yes.  Raw talent indeed!" and she stalks through the mess of wolves, trudging through to get to the hag and strikes again with her silvered weapon, using the owl and wolves as a distraction to get the upper hand.

And she crits!!

Attack: 28, Damage: 11 + 18 sneak attack

Then using her disengage bonus action again, she retreats behind the wolves.

Zefla's blade flashes in the dim light, driving deep into Offalia’s side, striking something vital.  The hag lets out a shriek, a hideous, guttural sound that sends a ripple through the very walls of the windmill.  Dark, sluggish blood seeps from the wound, and she staggers back, clutching at the gash with clawed fingers.  One look in her eyes tells that Offalia is no longer playing.  Her sunken eyes blaze with fury, her already withered features twisting further in pain and rage.  She breathes heavily, nostrils flaring.  “You miserable little rat,” she hisses at Zefla, all hint of jest and mockery gone. 

Soren waits against the outside of the mill, taking cover out of view of the hag Bella.  Beside him, Tourmaline leans against the outer wall, barely upright, her breath shallow. Nearby, Ireena holds the rescued child close, whispering reassurances as she listens to the battle unfold.

Then, the air thickens.  A chill sweeps through the Barovian air, colder than any wind, colder than anything natural.  The very space beside Soren seems to ripple, as though reality itself is bending to accommodate something that should not be.

And then—she is there.

Morgantha steps out of nothingness, her shape coalescing like ink spreading in water.  She does not lunge, does not attack—she simply appears, her gaunt form both meek and towering.  The scent of grave dirt and burnt sugar clings to her like a shroud.  Ireena startles, while Tourmaline just sighs dejectedly.

She leans in, close enough that Soren can see the film over her milky eyes, close enough that he can feel the unnatural cold radiating from her.  When she speaks, her voice is a whisper laced with rattling gravel:

“You are determined to be such a thorn, little druid.  You think you can bring ruin to me?”

Her talons rise, hovering just above his chest, though she does not touch him.  Not yet.

“I have already walked your dreams, Soren.  I have seen the fear that knots your heart.  And when your body is dead and your soul is mine, I will whisper your name in the dark - call you forth into shadow and fire - so that even in death, you will never find rest.”

Then, she grins, lips peeling back to reveal teeth far too sharp, far too numerous.

She hollers then, in a stronger, less frightening voice.  "Alright, ladies!  Start wrapping this up."

Round 3

1. Bella  
2. Burr  
3. Wolves  
4. Giles  
5. Ireena, Tourmaline, Victor 
6. Black Pudding
7. Animated Broom  
8. Soren  
9. Offalia  
10. Zefla  
11. Morgantha

Inside, Bella takes Morgantha's advice to heart.  The air around her crackles, thick with the sharp scent of ozone, as she raises a withered hand.  Sparks dance between her clawed fingers, swelling into a writhing mass of raw, electric fury.

With a sneer, she thrusts her palm forward.  A searing bolt of lightning crawls down from her elbow and then erupts from her outstretched hand, a blinding streak of white-blue energy that rips through the cramped chamber.

Lightning Bolt [Cast at 4th Level]:  32 Lightning Damage  - DC 15 DEX Save

Victor:  13

Hawthorne:  [I am afraid the save won't matter with only 15 HP and Temp HP]

Hawthorne barely has time to let out a startled yelp before the bolt engulfs it, obliterating the beast in an instant—leaving nothing behind but the acrid stench of burnt fur and a darkened scorch mark on the wooden floor.  Then the bolt is through on to Victor.  The young mage is lit up like a star as the lightning slams into his chest.  His body seizes as the sheer force of the magic surges through him, his limbs locking up as his nerves scream in protest.  His leather coat blackens and smokes, curling at the edges where the heat is most intense.  The scent of burnt hair fills the room as the force of the impact sends him staggering backward, his breath escaping in a strangled gasp.

Victor's wide eyes dart across the room, flicking between Bella, the pudding, and Giles.  His face, usually set in a mask of self-importance, is pale and drawn, beads of sweat forming at his brow.  His fingers twitch at his sides, as if itching to cast a spell, but they hesitate.  When he finally speaks, his voice is strained, tight with barely restrained panic.  “This isn’t— I—” He swallows, his throat dry.  His eyes land on the smoldering remains of the wolf.  “We need to end this NOW!” he snaps, but there is no authority in his voice, only fear.

[Back to Burr, who is upstairs with the two recently liberated children.]

Burr turns and sees Morgantha reappear at the base of the stairs, " Stay here, hide.", he orders the children as he moves and throws himself partway down the stairs the Bloodspear aimed at the witchs heart.

BA- Rage.

Attack- Reckless- Attack: 22 Damage: 12 + 4 Radiant.

Soren is afraid.  Very afraid.  But that is nothing new.  Fear has become an old familiar acquaintance to the druid.  His response to Morgantha is quiet.

"The strange thing about threats by city folks - and fiends - is it has less effect to threaten something you were always going to do eventually anyway."

The growls from the surviving wolves tell Soren (Speech of the Woods) that they, Zefla and now Burr are all attacking the hag on the second floor.  Tourmaline suggested the hags were stronger when all three could work together.  Perhaps if we can at least slay one...

In Elvish he calls out to Giles (and Burr), knowing Zefla is already doing her part:
"Attack all out to slay the hag on the second floor!  Hold nothing back!  They hurl mighty spells at us, yet Lady Bauer suggested that they are most dangerous while all three of them can work together.  If we can take one down, it may make all the difference..."

The wolves don't need to be told.  The four adjacent to Offalia all attack in a flurry of lunging jaws.  The two further back, Acacia and Bracken move past their pack-mates to snap at the hag, then retreat to their original positions, their collective howls a dirge for the fallen Gorse and Hawthorn.

(Cedar, Dale, Elm and Fir stay put to attack Offalia.  Bracken moves SE past Dale to attack and return to his position, Acacia the same E past Cedar).

Cedar's bite attack to hit Offalia:  24 (Nat. 20), damage:  12
Dale's bite attack to hit Offalia:  22, damage:  6
Elm's bite attack to hit Offalia:  19, damage:  9
Fir's bite attack to hit Offalia:  24 (Nat. 20), damage:  12
Bracken's bite attack to hit Offalia:  19, damage:  6
Acacia's bite attack to hit Offalia:  24 (Nat. 20), damage:  13
All damage piecing.  All attacks at advantage due to (Pack Tactics).  For every wolf bite that hits, Offalia makes a separate DC11 STR Save or is prone.
Offalia may make one opportunity attack against either Bracken or Acacia, though at disadvantage if prone at the time.

Owl and Wolves' Status:
Nettle (Owl Familiar): 1/1 HP + 10 Temp HP (AC11, 60' Fly Speed, Flyby)
Acacia (Wolf 1): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP (All wolves have AC13, 40' speed and Pack Tactics)
Bracken (Wolf 2): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Cedar (Wolf 3): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Dale (Wolf 4): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Elm (Wolf 5): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Fir (Wolf 6): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Gorse (Wolf 7): 1/11 HP --> 0 dead and gone
Hawthorn (Wolf 8): 11/11 HP + 4 Temp HP --> 0 dead and gone

First STR save against wolves:  8

As Offalia's shrieks of agony rise above the other noise of battle, her voice warps into something unnatural—an echoing, otherworldly wail that rattles the walls of the windmill.  She is dragged to the floor by the canines.  Her clawed hands grasp at the wolves, at the at the Blood Spear still lodged in her chest, at anything to hold herself together.  She rakes her claws along Bracken's flank.

• AOO (w/dis) Claws:  13  Slashing Damage:  14

But it's too late.  The pack drags her along the floor, jaws tearing into magical flesh that tries in vain to resist them, grey fur matted with dark ichor as her form convulses one final time before going limp.  Then, with a sickening rip, she is no more.

Morgantha, looming outside beside Soren, suddenly stiffens, her grotesque lips twisting into a scowl.  Her yellowed eyes flicker.  For a moment she looks slightly confused, as if she herself were just waking from a dream.  Nearby, the wounded Tourmaline tries to say something to Morgantha, but all she is able to get out is a mocking snicker.

[Offalia is dead, the hag coven is broken (whatever that means) and Giles is up!]

Giles comments as the wolves do their work, "Ripped her to shreds!"  He turns and goes down a few steps, looking over the railing and spies Bella and the black pudding, as well as a very frightened Victor.  He targets Bella and shoots a guiding bolt at her, then he uses his mage hand to pull her 5 feet closer to the black pudding.  Afterward he climbs up a few stairs again, making way for the wolves to descend, looking across the room at the windows, contemplating whether they are wide enough to allow him to escape and jump down to the ground.  

Action : Guiding bolt to Bella, 26 to hit for 17 points of radiant damage, she is outlined in a glow and the next attack against her is with advantage.  

Bonus action : Telepathic mage hand to pull Bella 5 feet closer to the black pudding, DC 15 strength save to resist.  

Movement: He moves up the stairs, making way for the wolves. He looks at the windows across the room. Can he fit through?

STR Save:  9

Giles hits Bella with his spell and then shoves her 5' west until she is standing ankle deep in the Black Pudding.  She screams as the corrosive substances deals 4 acid damage to her feet.  Then Giles retreats upstairs, pushing open the small window beside Zefla and squeezing through.  He drops 10' down to the ground outside the NW side of the windmill.  [DC 12 DEX save to land on his feet on a success, or land prone and take 2 Bludgeoning damage on a failure.]

Outside,  the wounded Tourmaline disengages from Morgantha and the Pudding and travels counterclockwise around the mill, toward where Giles' just landed.

Ireena, meanwhile, puts Saskia down behind her and draws her longsword on Morgantha.  "You'll harm no more children, fiend!" she bellows with a rage to rival Burr's.

• Longsword Attack:  4

Morgantha, still with a distant, perplexed look on her face, bats the attack away effortlessly.

Inside, Giles' spell has wrapped Bella in a shimmering aura of divine radiance.  She recoils, trying to shake off the glow, her already gnarled face twisting with fury.  The sacred light clings to her like oil, making her an easier target—and Victor, shaken but eager to finally land a decisive blow, seizes the opportunity.

His fingers twitch as he weaves the spell, drawing upon his arcane power.  The air around him shimmers green as he thrusts his hands forward, and a ray of sickly, viridescent energy streaks through the air toward Bella.  She sees it coming and tries to counter—her lips curl into a sneer as she snaps her fingers to unravel his magic—but nothing happens.  The broken coven has left her weaker.  Her expression shifts from arrogant confidence to shock as the spell completes.

Ray of Sickness Spell Attack [Upcast to Level 3]:  21  Poison Damage:  16

The Ray of Sickness strikes her dead in the chest, and a wave of nauseating, poisonous energy spreads through her body.  Bella shrieks as her skin blisters and darkens, her breath hitching as a retching cough wracks her frame.  The sickly glow clings to her like a death shroud, her limbs trembling from the corruption coursing through her veins.

Across the room, Victor breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling with exertion.  The scent of burnt hair still clings to him, his coat still smoldering from Bella’s lightning strike, but he doesn’t care.  A wild, furious grin flashes across his face. 

The Black Pudding takes this moment to surge upward, its amorphous mass shifting as it first seems to lunge toward Bella.  For a moment, Victor's eyes widen in fleeting hope—perhaps the creature will turn against its own master.  But Bella’s sharp, guttural command in Abyssal cuts through the air, and the ooze halts.  Though the coven is broken, her will remains strong, and the monstrous thing bends to it.  With a grotesque, sloshing noise, it pivots, setting its sights on Victor.

• Pseudopod:  17  Bludgeoning Damage:  9  Acid Damage:  15

A shadow looms over him, and before he can react, a thick pseudopod of writhing black sludge whips out, slamming into him with crushing force.  He screams as the corrosive touch of the pudding eats through fabric and flesh alike.  His coat sizzles, melting away in patches, exposing raw, searing burns beneath.  The acrid stench of dissolving leather and charred skin fills the room.  Victor's triumphant grin from moments ago vanishes in an instant, replaced by a look of pure agony.  A moan escapes from his throat as he stumbles back, clutching at his face where the acidic strike seared deep.  His hands tremble as he pulls them away, fingers coated in blistered, peeling flesh.  His breath comes in ragged gasps, his entire body wracked with pain.

He looks around wildly, as if searching for an escape, for someone to save him.  But there’s nowhere to run. 

Adding both insult and injury to injury, the Broom beside him begins battering him viciously.

• Broom Attack:  7
• Broom Attack:  24  Bludgeoning Damage:  7

It is too much, and Victor collapses to the ground, in danger of succumbing to his wounds.

[Soren is up.  As an important NPC, Victor will get the opportunity for Death Saves, rather than immediate death.]

From the howling of the wolves, Soren gleans what has transpired on the second floor (Speech of the Woods).  Join us below, he growls back at them.

To the others near him, Ireena, Lady Bauer through his fear, the druid states quietly, almost conversationally, "the hag on the second level is dead."  He considers telling them more, about the children upstairs, but he holds his tongue, not wishing to reveal anything the surviving hags do not already know.

He circles Morgantha warily, reaching a point where he can peer inside the windmill without engaging any other enemies.  Seeing the black pudding still looming, he tries to fight through his curse to lash at it once more as he had before with his thorny vine.

Circling further, Soren sees Victor down and immediately speaks a word of prayer as Silvanus' wild power of life infuses the fallen mage like a direwolf picking the young man up by the scruff of the neck.  "It is not yet time to rest, Victor of Vallaki."

Movement:  Soren moves SE - NE - action (Thorn Whip) - N - bonus action (Healing Word)... never leaving Morgantha's melee range.

Action:  Soren's Thorn Whip against the black pudding, 30' melee spell attack at disadvantage due to curse:
Thorn Whip to hit:  10
Thorn Whip damage:  9 (magical piercing)
Forced Movement:  none - once again, Soren does not wish to pull the ooze any closer.

Bonus Action:  Soren casts Healing Word.  Victor heals 7 hp.

Nettle, meanwhile, glides down the spiral stairs along the ceiling, across the ground-level, flapping her wings in Bella's face, taking the help action before flying out the entrance and 15' up into the air just east of Soren. (60' fly speed with Flyby).  Next attack against Bella has advantage.

Giles surprises Zefla as he jumps out the window.  Afraid of heights herself, she backs away from the now open window and heads towards the stairs.  Moving down to where Giles was located, she continues down till she has a good line of sight on Bella.  

Not being able to use her silvered weapon is discouraging, but she was not about to step foot in the disgusting sludge.  She pulls out her shortbow and fires one of her arrows at the hag, using Nettle's distraction for advantage.

Attack: 18, Damage: 10 + 12 sneak attack

Then she heads back up the stairs out of Bella's view.

Giles Dex save of 7, he took 2 hp of fall damage and he is prone.

Morgantha's form wavers as she takes in the loss.  Her yellowed eyes flick toward Soren, standing just feet away.  He’s alone—no wolves, no allies pressing in. Just him, Ireena, and the child hiding behind her.  Morgantha’s fingers twitch, curling like talons, as though she might strike him down where he stands.  And yet, she hesitates.

Instead, she sighs, an almost human gesture.

She glances toward the windmill, and then back to Soren.  For the first time tonight, her voice carries something other than mockery or malice. It carries regret.  "I misjudged you," she admits, her tone almost thoughtful.  "You are not the weak, frightened little things I took you for.  A mistake which has cost me dearly."

Her lips curl into something like a grin again, but only half-hearted.  "Not that it will matter.  Strahd will see to you before I ever get the chance to inflict the punishment you deserve.  And after a little hard work and a lot of time, I'll have raised up a new sister and we will be back to what we do best.  Nothing ever really changes here, and what is a little delay to those who are forever?  I'll find a means to appease Strahd, put this little hiccup behind us, and life shall go on for me."

She steps back then, eyes gleaming.  "But until the Dark Lord does claim you… oh, sweet child, I will be there.  Every night, as your head rests upon the pillow, I will be there.  Watching.  Waiting.  My whispers in your ear, my claws brushing at your bangs.  And when you dream?  In those gloaming hours, for all the rest of your nights... I will be there."

Then, with one last lingering look, she vanishes.  The air shudders where she stood, twisting and distorting as she fades into the Border Ethereal.

Inside, Bella staggers, her body wracked with pain, seared by Victor’s magic, and battered by the relentless attacks of the party.  Her breathing is ragged, her grotesque features twisted in equal parts fury and panic.  

Then she sees it.  Victor, burned and battered, should be dying on the floor.  But no—Soren’s magic washes over him, mending his wounds, undoing her one victory.  The rage boils over inside her.

"NO! NO NO NOOO!" she screeches, her voice cracking into something shrill and inhuman.  Her fingers claw at the air, reaching as if she could tear them apart with sheer spite alone.  "CURSE YOU!  CURSE YOU ALL!"  Spittle flies from her lips as she hurls the words like daggers.  "May your flesh rot!  May your bones crumble!  May your screams echo through this cursed land long after you're dead!"

Her form flickers, distorting like smoke in the wind.  With one last shriek of incoherent rage, she too vanishes into the Border Ethereal, her scream lingering even after her body is gone.

Round 4

1. Burr  
2. Wolves  
3. Giles  
4. Ireena, Tourmaline, Victor 
5. Black Pudding
6. Animated Broom  
7. Soren  
8. Zefla  

[Burr and Zefla are still inside on the second floor along with the remaining 6 wolves.  2 kids are up on the third floor.  Victor is still on the ground floor, prone and surrounded by pudding and broom.]

Burr retreated back up to the third floor to check on the two kids, he settled his maul in his hand.....his Bloodspear still lodged below.

" Children, to me. It has grown quiet below and I am unsure why. The witch may appear again....stay behind me."

The wolves howl as one, a mournful, chilling sound, dismayed at the escape of their remaining fiendish enemies.  Yet their flurry of action does not cease.

Elm, the wolf closest to the southeast window jumps out (moving one square SE) but mistimes his leap, landing prone with a yelp (DEX Save 4, 1d6 bludgeoning damage:  4).  Bounding up from prone, he leaps NW to the door (just E of the broom) and attacks the broom.  (35' movement used).

Fir, the wolf 5' W of where Elm had been moves 5' E, jumps SE out the window (DEX Save 13), then back NW into Elm's space (difficult terrain) to attack the broom.  If the broom dies or is already dead, Fir moves W to the broom's former space, otherwise E out of the windmill, taking AoOs.  (30' movement used).

Dale, the wolf 5' S of Giles' former position at the top of the stairs bounds N - SW (jumping to ground floor from top of stairs, DEX Save 18) - S, finishing just N of Victor and NW of the broom (20' movement used).  Dale then attacks the broom, or if the broom is dead, then the black pudding instead.

Cedar, the wolf that had been 5' W of Offalia's position bounds N - N - SW (jumping to ground floor from top of stairs, falling prone, DEX Save 9, taking 1d6 bludgeoning: 4), finishing in Bella's former position.  Cedar stands up from prone and attacks the black pudding.

Acacia, who had been on the SW end of the millstone moves N - NE to the top of the stairs where Giles had been and attacks the black pudding.

Bracken, being injured by Offalia's final counterattack, waits for his pack-mates to clear the second floor, then lopes over to pick up Burr's Bloodspear by the haft in his jaws, then up the stairs to drop the weapon at the big man's feet, tongue lolling.  The wolf then turns, guarding the cubs from any threat.

Wolf attacks (all with advantage due to Pack Tactics, all damage piercing):
(Note that the animated broom should already have 7 damage on it from Cedar's earlier attack in Post 2220).

Elm's bite attack to hit animated broom:  19, damage:  6
Fir's bite attack to hit animated broom (or if it is dead, then the black pudding):  17, damage:  7
Dale's bite attack to hit animated broom (or if it is dead, then the black pudding):  13, damage:  6
Cedar's bite attack to hit black pudding:  14, damage:  9
Acacia's bite attack to hit black pudding:  9, damage:  5

Owl and Wolves' Status: (pending any damage from contact with black pudding)
Nettle (Owl Familiar): 1/1 HP + 10 Temp HP (AC11, 60' Fly Speed, Flyby)
Acacia (Wolf 1): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP (All wolves have AC13, 40' speed and Pack Tactics)
Bracken (Wolf 2): 7/11 HP
Cedar (Wolf 3): 11/11 HP + 6 Temp HP
Dale (Wolf 4): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Elm (Wolf 5): 11/11 HP + 6 Temp HP
Fir (Wolf 6): 11/11 HP + 10 Temp HP
Gorse (Wolf 7):  0 dead and gone
Hawthorn (Wolf 8):  0 dead and gone

Elm and Fir coordinate to chew up the Broom of Animated Attack, whittling it down to splintery pieces in their jaws.

Dale, Cedar, and Acacia, meanwhile, worry at the edges of the Black Pudding, snapping off pieces of it but burning their snouts in the process.

• Dale Acid Damage:  6
• Cedar Acid Damage:  7
• Acacia Acid Damage:  3

[Giles is up!]

((Casted sacred flame in the log, but I forgot that Giles is prone, around the north side of the windmill.))

Giles stands up and dashes 45 feet around the windmill to the south, far enough that he can look in the door on the ground floor, worried about what may be transpiring.  He spots Victor and the black pudding, glad to see that the wolves have crushed and broken the animated broom.  Seeing Victor, he decides to protect him by giving him sanctuary, he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small silver mirror, shining it on him.  His eyes are darting around, looking for the other two hags.  “My Lady, protect him, he looks nearly dead!”  he turns to Victor and says “Don’t attack Victor!  Move away, the gooey beast won’t be able to attack you!”

Action + Movement : Stands from prone, runs 45 feet to the south, to be able to look in the door and assess the ground floor.  

Bonus Action : Casts Sanctuary on Victor, any monster must pass a DC 15 wisdom save to be able to target Victor.