Whether or not she gets the first cabinet, she'll try for the second one...

Sleight of Hand  9

Giles uses his spell to illuminate the main hall.  The interior doesn't look like it's been torn apart by werewolves, exactly, but it does look like it has seen better days.  Something is leaking upstairs, and the red marble spiral staircase is wet and slick with moisture and mold.  Most things here on the ground floor have a thick layer of dust on them.  And as noted before, someone tore up the paneling in the main hall to barricade the windows.

Zefla goes to work on the first cabinet.

[FYI - DM didn't notice until now, but with 1 pt of exhaustion these ability checks should be at disadvantage, Zefla.  We'll just let these results stand.  They aren't tough locks.]

The first cabinet, between the two wolves, gives the halfling fits.  Despite the fine appearance of the furniture, the lock is cheap.  In the end, frustrated, she forces it and breaks the lock.  The cabinet can be forced open now, and the two doors fold back against the sides to display the interior.  The cabinet is lined with red velvet.  It holds a heavy crossbow, a light crossbow, a hand crossbow, and 20 bolts for each weapon. 

Taking what she learned on the first cabinet, she has an easier time with the second.  Apparently this was the 'entertainment' cabinet, for once it is unlocked she sees that it holds a small box containing a deck of playing cards and an assortment of wine glasses.

Soren looks at the items and then back at his companions, unsure.

"Perhaps Burr could use the heavy crossbow if he needs to attack from afar since he is without his armor, or Zefla could use the hand crossbow?  I have seen people playing games with playing cards like this but have never learned how."

(As usual, it does not even occur to Soren to be worried about taking other people's property).

He peeks back north into the foyer and adds, "there are several other doors and stairs heading up.  Do we press on or take a rest, risking being found by whoever is residing here?  I think we should we press on, at least clearing this floor first.  This house disturbs me for reasons I cannot fully describe.  This whole place does, wherever we are.  We don't want something creeping up on us from behind."

If the group agrees to move on, Soren re-enters the foyer and walks to the left-most (western) door on the northern wall.  He listens at it first and, if hearing nothing opens it and peeks in, using his darkvision as needed.

Giles gets excited when he sees the playing cards, and says “I could ummm…” he pauses, straightens himself up, calms himself down  and gets a composed look on his face, says “I’ve seen gamblers and such use cards like these, I would like to …. study them.  Perhaps we could….perhaps we could play for a few copper pieces later when we rest, you know, just a friendly game.  Keep the stakes low, wouldn’t want you to take all of my money.. heh heh.”  Giles lets out a very forced chuckle and gives you a grin.  He reaches for the cards.  

(Sorry about that!  Totally forgot.  Also, did she see anything when she looked at the longsword before stowing it?  Anything special about it?)

Zefla hands over the deck to Giles as he holds his hand out, then grabs the hand crossbow with the bolts for herself.  "Finally, a ranged weapon I can use.  Won't help against werewolves, but hopefully we're done with those!"

Leaving the other two weapons for anyone interested, she follows Soren back to the hallway and stands behind him, "What do you see Soren?"

Burr doesn't object to taking the heavy crossbow, he then moves to back up Soren loading a bolt.

Soren opens the door.  This had been locked, at one time, but some has broken it. The door can be pushed open, revealing a large dark dining room.  The windows here have been nailed closed with paneling stripped from the walls as well.

The centerpiece of this dining room is a carved mahogany table surrounded by eight high-backed chairs with sculpted armrests and cushioned seats. Most of the chairs are covered with a thick layer of dust, but half the table is much less dusty, like it was cleared off - though not recently.  A crystal chandelier hangs above the table, covered by a threadbare sheet as though it were being put into storage.  Mounted above the cold marble fireplace is a mahogany-framed painting of an alpine vale.

The wall paneling - where it hasn't been pulled away - is carved with elegant images of deer among the trees.  Red silk drapes had once covered the windows, but they are faded and piled on the floor now, pushed aside when the windows were barricaded. 

A tapestry hangs from a rusty iron rod bolted to the wall opposite the fireplace.  A leak from somewhere above has damaged this wall and the tapestry is discolored with mold.  From what you can tell, it once depicted hunting dogs and horse-mounted aristocrats chasing after something... a wolf or a bear.

Seated in the head chair, in front of the tapestry, is a corpse.  It looks like a human man, arms folded and head down, as if he put his head down to rest on the table and never awoke.

An adventurer's gear is piled in one corner behind him.  On the table are some papers, collecting dust, along with a wine bottle and a large pile of forks, spoons and knives.  It looks like the figure, or someone with him, had been sorting out silverware from crystalware.

Burr takes in the painting and the tapestry then moves to go through the dead mans possesions.

Investigation- 17

It does not occur to Soren to look more closely at the wine in the wine bottle or the adventurer's gear.  He gives the all clear to enter.

Very warily, worried about undead in such a strange place as this, he attempts to ascertain that the corpse is truly dead (not alive or undead), bumping it a bit with his small wooden shield and then trying to identify cause of death, reaching to Silvanus for Guidance.

Soren Medicine with Guidance:  8 + 3 = 11 (clearly, ad hoc observational autopsies are not his strong suit).

If nothing results from that, Soren gravitates towards the wall paneling with the images of nature, gazing at the deer and the trees.

Burr finds the following while digging through the decedent's estate:

Piled in the corner

• A breastplate
• A battleaxe
• A crowbar
• A hammer
• Three wooden stakes
• A flask of holy water
• A set of manacles
• A steel mirror
• A flask of oil
• Three torches
• An empty container of rations

On his person

• A pouch holding tinker's tools
• 14 gp

On the table

• An empty bottle of wine
• A... letter?
• A map

Soren, you are satisfied this body is not currently possessed of any manner of undeath.  It is the mundane corpse of a human man of indeterminate age.  There are no obvious wounds on the body.  It is not a fresh kill... the body has been dead for months, at least.  Years?  You cannot say.  Most of the odor of death and decay have gone.

Zefla enters after Soren and is drawn to the tapestry on the wall.  Seeing it covered in mold and such, she holds her breath as she checks behind it.

She then heads over to see what Burr has found, "Anything good?" she asks as she looks over his shoulder.  "What an odd collection of stuff.  What do you think its all for?"

(Would a history check make sense to see if she can make sense of why the corpse had those items?)  History  20

Checking the table, she picks up the letter and blows off the dust.  Then tries to read it.

Soren thinks he could wear the breastplate but feels somehow uncomfortable having so much metal surrounding his body.

"The armor seems good for you, Burr?  And maybe the Holy Water (flask) for not-father Giles?  We should probably take it all.  The man is long dead."

He does take the hammer and stake (wooden) (3 of them) if no one else objects.

Giles walks in and sees the body, sitting at the table.  He walks over and looks at the papers on the table, to see if anything is legible.  “Oh, you poor soul.  What were you doing here?  Hunting werewolves?  I wonder how long you have been sitting here….   Dear Lady, take this poor wretched soul into your arms, give them luck and good fortune in the afterlife, if it is your will.  Tsk, tsk, tsk.  How sad.”  Giles then wanders over, looking at the equipment.  

“I could use the breastplate if no one else wants it.  And that flask of holy water.  Alas, I cannot use the battle axe.  Ooh, a map!”  He spreads out the map on the table to get his bearings.

" Monster hunting from the gear....I don't read good what does the paper say?"

He fastened on the breastplate.

[From earlier:  Zefla doesn't see anything too unusual about the longsword.  It does have a lot of artistic bells and whistles, with the decorative handle, but otherwise it looks functional.]

Zefla would have to agree with Burr's assessment.  This particular assortment of supplies does look like a monster-hunter's packout.

Giles clears the dust from the map.  This is no hand-sketched trail map.  It shows the work of a master mapmaker.  The edges are pressed flat and thin, as though the map spent a long time inside a frame.  The map details an unfamiliar land.

Zefla meanwhile unrolls the letter.  It had once been sealed with wax but it was broken and opened already.  The old seal looks like a shield with a stylized raven flying in the foreground.  Written in flowing script, the letter reads as follows:

Raquon of Greyhawk,

Two weeks have passed since you and the mage led that rabble to my castle.  In the aftermath, I did not count you among the dead.  It was but a day before I tracked you to this mouldy thicket where you have gone to ground.  I have watched, curious to see if there was more fight in you; if you would rally yet again.  Alas, no.  You are a spent force.

It is clear that you are no threat to me, still I cannot allow your crimes to go unanswered.  You may not lurk in my Barovia, no matter how deep a hole you dig.  You took up arms against me, denounced me in front of my people, and destroyed some of my most beloved servants.  You played for blood and lost; your life is forfeit.

But I am not without mercy.  Do you recall our conversation outside the walls of Vallaki?  I do.  It is rare that I am surprised, but you accomplished this feat.  You have given me much to think about.  Dust had settled around my mind, I think.  My thinking over these long years had become obtuse, withdrawn and distracted, but perhaps you have rekindled a fire that should never have gone out.  There may come a day when I look back and owe my freedom to your wise words.

With this in mind, I make an offering of peace.  Attached to this letter is a bottle of wine from my most favored cellar.  It also happens to be possessed of a singular poison.  Drink deep, savor .  You shall feel no pain and within an hour you will drift off to a final sleep.  You have my word.

You also have my word that, should you still draw breath when the moon rises tonight, I will visit horrors upon you unlike anything you have seen since you passed through the mists.  No locked door or barred window will keep you from my reach.  After my servants drag you back to the dungeons below Ravenloft, you shall have an eternity to regret rejecting my offer of a quick death.

With courteous respect,

Lord and Master of Barovia,

Strahd Von Zarovich

After staring at the images of deer and trees on the walls for a time, Soren wanders over to see what the other three are looking at near the corpse he had already examined.  He had never used maps in Neverwinter Wood and rarely since he fled south.  In fact the map of the werewolf attacks south of Daggerford had been the first map he had inspected of that area.  Looking at this map and its absence of ocean or familiar cities, he trusts it ironically only because he has already come to the conclusion that he and his companions have been transported to a wholly new place.  Barovia...

It is only then that Soren turns to the letter and his jaw works as he reads, trying to make sense of it.  Understanding finally coming, at least in part.

"So this is the land of... Barovia?  Where Strahd Von Zarovich claims to rule.  But where is this Greyhawk that Raquon is said to be from?  I do not see it on the map.  Unless... unless he too came from a completely different place..."

Soren finally makes the connection.  "As we ourselves did."  Uncharacteristically, he shivers.

Zefla reads the letter then sets it back on the table for others to look at.  Staring at the corpse sitting in the chair, she then picks up the empty bottle of wine and brings it down to her level to sniff the opening, then looks at the label.

Setting the bottle back on the table, she asks, "What horrors do you think this Master of Barovia has at his disposal?"

She then grabs hold of a chair and drags it over by the map, standing on top of the chair to get a good look at it, she stares at it, trying to really grasp what is going on.

Burr growled, " This is not what we signed up for...."

" I won't begin to understand how we got here........but how do we get out?"

Giles looks over the map, trying to piece out directions, names, anything that he’s heard of… and he comes up empty.  “How did we end up here?  Have any of you heard of Barovia?  Or Strahd Zarovich?  I’ve heard tales from many of a passing traveler, but I’ve never heard of this place.  So, again, how the hell did we end up here?”  Giles stares at the map, looking for answers.

Soren is still alternating between staring at the map and mouthing words as he reads through the letter once more.

"I have never heard of any of it, but then I had not heard of Daggerford until this year.  I think this confirms what I have sensed from the land and the trees here.  We are far, far away from where we were.  Or perhaps in some different world.  There was something unnatural about those mists."

He looks at Burr sympathetically.  Sadly.  "Many of us never signed up for what we've gotten."  He remembers his own forest home.  Burning.

Shaking himself, he points out some of the locations referenced in the letter on the map.

"The map says it is of Barovia, but look.  There is also a... city with that name?" (Even small towns are cities to Soren).  "A city called Barovia here to the east.  And near it, just to the west of it, Ravenloft which Strahd Von Zarovich mentions where he speaks of dungeons.  A... castle?  And a bit further to the northwest of that, near Lake Zarovich, is the city of Vallaki, where Strahd says he conversed with Raquon of Greyhawk previously."

Soren sighs.  "The problem is that I don't know how to find where we are right now on the map.  Which seems strangely fitting."