As Corrin triggers the first trap, Elya attempts to destroy it with her maul. Attack: 18 Damage: 13

If she misses or otherwise fails to disable the trap, she will use shape water and coat the doorframe/trap opening in a thick layer of ice.

Dex check: 10

Bless: 4

Corrin looks back to Anborn, offering help, “The trick is in the timing. When that one shifts, count a breath and dart. Make yourself small and don’t dally.”

Anborn breathes in deep and calls on the power of the gods for assistance. "Torm guide me now."

Int: 20

Guidance:3

Once Anborn gets through, he'll Help Ledanra and Winter. He'll also cast Guidance on both of them. "I know that you didn't like it when I touched you before Ice Queen, but this isn't the time for pride."

Winter emitted a deep growl from the back of her throat hearing them call for a retreat, but with how all of this was going and how strong this creature seemed to really be, she had to admit defeat and joined them back up the stairs. She didn't bother with shooting the beast again, knowing that she would possibly miss another shot and grow even more irritated than she already was, now seeing the doors ready to turn them into sliced bread. This house could not be any worse than it already is.

Just before she was about to attempt her way through, Anborn had touched her again to cast his spell, her eyes darting to his hand before she looked at him with a squint. She cools her gaze right as she opens her mouth. "The queen will make an exception this time around. Thank you, Anborn."

Dex: 18
Guidance: 3

If anyone needs help, Winter will go ahead and return the favor (if possible).

Ledanra follows through the blades...

Dex: 21  (Guidance: 1)

"Well, that was certainly the last thing I expected to be doing when I woke up this morning. I too am not adverse to burning the house down, it has been entirely inconvenient. It feels like we are waliing away with very little though, good deeds are not their own reward in my world."

"Our reward is that we were able to walk into that death trap and come away with our lives. Sometimes, that's all you get."

Corrin nods, echoing Anborn's sentiments. "Leaving this cursed place alive is accomplishment enough for me. Let us raze it to the grown so others will not fall victim to its clutches." The halfling's dour face then is replaced by a wide smile. "Then perhaps, we find a place that serves ale. I think we could all use a drink, no?"

As you all escape the Death House by balcony, the children outside are nowhere to be seen. The house crumbles apart as you exit and as you back away from it on the street, the mist of fog surrounds you and makes you watch. Slowly, piece by piece, the house falls apart, as if angry a sacrifice had not been made. Clearly, now, the house is more than just a house, but all that remains of it is an enormous pile of withered and demolished mansion. 

You have survived the Death House! You are all now level 3!

THE VILLAGE OF BAROVIA

Tall shapes loom out of the dense fog that surrounds everything. The muddy ground underfoot gives way to slick, wet cobblestones. The tall shapes become recognizable as village dwellings. The windows of each house stare out from pools of blackness. No sound cuts the silence except for mournful sobbing that echoes through the streets from a distance. Most of the shops in the village are permanently closed, and the unoccupied shops have been looted of anything valuable. Claw marks cover most of the walls. An enormous gothic castle looms over the village, like a lance piercing the sky.

Here are the locations in the village you can explore. (THE BROWN BUILDINGS ON THE MAP) The mist does not let you leave, nor does it let you explore any other locations other that what's mentioned below. 

A. Bildrath’s Mercantile: The sparse light from this building spills out from behind drawn heavy curtains. A sign over the door, creaking on its hinges, reads “Bildrath’s Mercantile.”

B. Blood of the Vine Tavern: A single shaft of light thrusts illumination into the main square, its brightness looking like a solid pillar in the heavy fog. Above the gaping doorway, a sign hangs precariously askew, proclaiming this to be the Blood on the Vine tavern.

C. Mad Mary’s Townhouse: A moaning sob floats through the still, gray streets, coloring your thoughts with sadness. The sounds flow from a dark, two-story townhouse.

D. Burgomaster’s Mansion: A weary-looking mansion squats behind a rusting iron fence. The iron gates are twisted and torn. The right gate lies cast aside, while the left swings lazily in the wind. The stuttering squeal and clang of the gate repeats with mindless precision. Weeds choke the grounds and press with menace upon the house itself. Yet, against the walls, the growth has been tramped down to create a path all about the domain. Heavy claw markings have stripped the once-beautiful finish of the walls. Great black marks tell of the fires that have assailed the mansion. Not a pane nor a shard of glass stands in any window. All the windows are barred with planks, each one marked with stains of evil omen.

E. Church: Atop a slight rise, against the roots of the pillar stone that supports Castle Ravenloft, stands a gray, sagging edifice of stone and wood. This church has obviously weathered the assaults of evil for centuries on end and is worn and weary. A bell tower rises toward the back, and flickering light shines through holes in the shingled roof. The rafters strain feebly against their load.

As the house crumbles, Anborn gives it the double birds. "Good riddance to that hell house. How about we get a drink before we get out of here for good?"

Once the dust truly began to settle, Orilo bows his head to the remains of the house. "We Drink. You can try leaving after." He starts walking without waiting on a comment from others towards the tavern, a shining beacon among the gloom of the fog. Along the way he notes in passing any other signs of people in the streets. Seeing next to none however, hope and expectations are tempered on what might be found in the tavern. As a precaution, a hand stays near his only remaining dagger on his belt.

Corrin hurries after the others toward the tavern, hopeful for a good, strong swig of ale to wash away the taste of doom, gloom and ash from his mouth. "A drink sounds perfect. Maybe a bite to eat as well. That'd be great! Think they have pastries? I'd love a good pastry or maybe a sweet bread. I'm so tired of these rations. Whoever would think that dried meat makes a good meal. A proper meal is truly a work of art. I hope they have sweet breads."

Corrin falls quiet, noting the demeanor of his allies as they march through the gloomy streets. His eyes remain wary, searching the foggy landscape for any other surprises as he mutters more to himself than anyone else. "Sweet breads would be great."

Perception: 2

Seeing the house crumble, Song bows his head. "Good-bye, Rose. Good-bye, Thorn. May you find peace." He then lifts up his middle finger. "Good-bye shitty, evil parents!" Finally, he brandishes both middle fingers and yells, "AND GOOD-BYE YOU STUPID MOVING PILE OF SHIT!" After a seconds of this, he quickly pats himself off from any dust and clears his throat. "Well, shall we be on then?"

Ledanra looks at the burning house, marvelling at the concept though still disconcerted about her experiences within. Maybe someday she will come back here and see about raising the house once more, when it would suit her needs rather than obstruct them.

"A drink is well enough I suppose, now that the fog has lifted maybe the surrounding areas are worth another look? Our aim should still be to follow the trail of this note by which we were all drawn here though."

B. BLOOD OF THE VINE TAVERN

A single shaft of light thrusts illumination into the main square, its brightness looking like a solid pillar in the heavy fog. Above the gaping doorway, a sign hangs precariously askew, proclaiming this to be the Blood on the Vine tavern.

The tavern building is about 60 feet square. Close inspection of the sign reveals that it originally read “Blood of the Vine.” (An “n” has been scratched over with the “f.”) As you enter, a blazing fire in the hearth gives scant warmth to the few huddled souls within. They include the barkeep, three other shady humans sitting together, and another noble looking man off to the side.

Anborn walks into the bar and slaps down a few gold pieces. "Drinks are on me. Who's thirsty?"

"I'll stick to water, thanks. Alcohol doesn't sit well with me. Anyways, we should probably find the Burgomaster and do what we came here to do before relaxing."

Elya will approach the sketchy people and gives them a quick nod before sitting down with them. "Do any of you happen to know a Kolyan Indirovich? He seems to be the Burgomaster here and we're looking to meet with him." 

Corrin rushes forward, climbing one of the stools. "Well, I'm never one to turn down a drink."

The barkeep appears to be mindlessly cleaning the same glasses - which..are already clean. The man off in the corner clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

"My good man!" he says, "Permit ME to purchase drinks for all of YOU, if I may. Please! Come, sit down with me. May i indulge your attention for a moment so I may tell you of a situation I find myself in. For listening, the drinks are on me."

"Uh sure. Could you perhaps tell us who we're talking to, while you're at it?"