On a dark desert highway, somewhere in Cormyr, the shimmering lights of the tavern shine through the gloom. As your head grows heavy and your sight grows dim, you head inside the ramshackle single-storey building for some refreshment and rest. The large smoky common room is crowded: one end is rowdy with card and dice games, at the other quieter folk huddle around the fireplace, and many more sit at tables in the bright-lit center or in dark corners, while a single human waitress hurries between busy tables, serving food and drink. Squeezing in to an empty space at the bar, you wait for the moment when you can catch the pointy-eared bartender's eye. Suddenly a cry erupts from a table near the door as an elderly woman in a ragged shawl rises from her chair with surprising vigor.

You bumbling fool, you've knocked my wine again! she yells at a stunned halfling. The taste of magic fills the room as her voice deepens. Curse you! And curse all of you! May you never leave this place! Not until One dies, Two cries, Three lies, Four buys and Five flies. And with that she turns, steps deftly outside, and slams the door behind her. There are a few moments of stunned silence, but the conversation gradually resumes and all seems to return to normal ... until one patron tries to leave. The main door can be opened easily enough, but a wall of tangible blackness blocks all passage. Spells are cast but no manner of enchantment can remove the obstacle. Most surprising of all, guests continue to arrive! Unaware of the trap, new patrons emerge from the void only to find themselves prisoners in the Hotel Corona.

A light-hearted shut-in special. Feel free to wander in with whatever character takes your fancy and interact freestyle. No character limit, and no character sheet necessary. Current character Level is 8. There is a riddle to be solved, in the style of an escape room, with some celebrity cameos, and a few fun random encounters.

Happy isolation days, everyone!

 Creative Commons art credit: Inn of Heroes by Lee Woo Chul

Facts established so far (will update as things develop):
- The tavern is now a 'hotel' and is four storeys, with twenty guest rooms on each floor and one royal suite. Approximately seven of the eighty-one rooms are occupied.
- The interior consists of the large lobby, a restaurant area, a bar, a cellar, a large staircase, a swimming pool and gymnasium, and the guest rooms. 
- The bar is tended by Willagee, a half-elf. Kardinya is the human female restaurant manager. Bentley the halfling is the concierge
- A witch's curse seems to be the cause of the enforced shut-in. The door can be opened but no-one can leave until the conditions of the curse are satisfied.
- The first condition of "One Dies" was met when the apparently immortal Mr Dory died by self-immolation. The second condition of "Two Cries" was met when the Barovian Count shed tears of ecstasy while drinking the blood of Hatch, the willing and self-sacrificing tiefling paladin. The third condition of "Three Lies" was fulfilled when Barok the dwarf confessed to hiding his true identity as Aurinax the gold dragon.

Tomaldorin the Arcanologist finishes refilling his mug of ale and returns to the card game going on at one of the northwest tables. Affectionately known as "Whiskey Tom" to the tavern's clientele, he sets down his drink and takes up his hand, which begins to glow a dull silver to match his beard. 

"Hrrmph. Whose go was it, again?"

An elven hunter - Althoris Elphas, as he introduced himself, who was living in the Hotel Corona for the last three days, finally walked to the doors and shut them for good. "I say we have enough people as it is, don't you think so?" addressing no one in particular. He returned to his place by the fire, but this time turned the chair to the public. "I suppose the windows are also off limits. We can try the chimney, but something tells me it would not work either. Is there anyone particularly holy who can try to remove the curse before we begin drawing straws for who will be the one to die?"

Locksure takes an investigation of all people in the Tavern's main room while walking to the door to investigate the door as well.

 While walking the master investigator will think about the riddle.

Sylrila picks back up the small lyre from her lap and begins to play once more. She's a slight halfling with wild, honey-nut hair and skin to match. She warms up her voice and hums a little tune in the silence accompanying the Elf's question about who will die.

"A bit premature to assume the hag was being so obvious with her limerick, don't you think? Let's not rush towards violence friend," she finally says.

 "Who said anything about violence?" raised his brow Althoris, watching Locksure thoroughly searching the room. "As I said - straw drawing. Though, if we are stuck for long, it wont be necessary at all. Crying and dying would happen quite naturally."

In the corner of the bar, away from prying eyes, a small red-feathered kenku covered in rags was reading an old book almost as big as he was. He was so focused on it that he didn't notice the scene with the elderly women. He was finally brought back to reality when he noticed his stomach rumbling.

As he joined the rest of the patrons, he noticed the commotion around him.

Althoris: Shutting the door seems to have prevented any more arrivals for now.

Locksure: (That's some serious proficiency bonus, LOL) Analysing... Certainly evil magic at work, probably fey in origin. Most likely the tavern has been sequestered in some kind of demi-plane. You've heard about this kind of magic before in tales about a land called Barovia. As for the riddle, interesting wording. The grammar suggests the numbers are names or titles, or else it would say 'two cry, three lie...' etc.

The bartender, seeing the rising tension, tries to calm the atmosphere by announcing a round of drinks on the house. But the place is so packed that the rush to the bar just adds to the chaos, and voices raise higher as bodies start getting shoved...

A small, fair half-elf named Lia dodged through the crowd heading to the bar and slipped into an empty seat near where Althoris and Sylrila were talking. She didn't say anything, but turned from person to person, following each's gaze. She didn't look at all concerned by what was going on, but far more excited to watch it all unfold, as if the realisation that the situation affected her hadn't hit yet.

Locksure announces, to anyone willing to listen, "Names, not one person dies, but person named person One. This Witch has named 5 people."

Slight pause, not for others to reply but to ready the next thought.

"The door" Locksure looks the door over.  He then takes his indeed finger and runs it over a few areas to include all the seams, the center of the door, and door knobs.  He then proceeded to smell the door in the same areas.  He even licks a few spots.  Then turns around and says, "The magic is most likely Fey in origin, but is smells like hell on the outside."

Whiskey Tom, at first eager for the drink, throws down his cards and starts towards the bar. When overtaken by a veritable horde, he politely decides his talents are best served elsewhere, and approaches the master investigator.

"Terrible business, isn't it? Simply terrible. Hard to imagine someone would do such a thing over a simple spill. My, if I had a copper coin for every chalice I've emptied onto the parched earth, I'd buy us all enough wine to drown in."

He gives Locksure a toothy grin behind his fluffy beard. 

"Tomaldorin, the Arcanologist, at your service." he says, with a sweeping bow.

The little red kenku goes up to Locksure, as she seems to be taking charge of the situation. He tugs on his shirt to get his attention.

"Hi there! I’m Yum. What’s your name? Do you need help?"

The kenku’s beak doesn’t move at all as he speaks, and the word seem to be ringing in Locksure’s mind.

Lia's attention drifts to Locksure as she notices him licking the door, but after his summary, she half-shrugs and decides to trust his knowledge. She also notices people beginning to crowd around him, but she decides to stay seated where she is for the moment, as she has a good view from here.

"Do you taste any flavor of "solution" in it? Or may be smell a hint of "explanation"?" Althoris' smile to Locksure was the definition of politeness. "Would really love to know what can we do here. If you are correct, can you tell who is that mysterious "One"? Others are needed two, of course, but the "One" position would be the hardest to fill in."

My human fighter Delmon says " Let's not kill anyone until we are sure about this " and proceeds to get a drink and sip from it as I walk around asking people their names. I also start making a little fort/barrack out of tables and horde food and drink inside. I also pull out my gleaming short sword and say " If anybody gets too drunk and attacks we could dispose of them and that would be one dead."

Tomaldorin's grin widens as others start to mingle before the door. "Ah, so it is to be an adventure, then. Good! I do hope I won't outlive you, this time." He toasts the inauguration of this informal adventure with a swig from a silver flask, drawn from beneath his voluminous cloak. Replacing it, he grimaces and furrows his brow. 

"Are we so sure that the old crone's riddle refers to positions? One, Two, Three, and all that. Perhaps it refers to literal groups of individuals. And, now that I think of it."

Tom turns and, with clear, grey eyes, surveys the room, looking for the bumbling halfling who caused the initial ruckus.

Sylrila's music plays somewhat comically in contrast to the growing melee by the bar, with fists and feet starting to fly as frustration and anger come to the fore. Near the fireplace, the otherwise quiet folk become agitated as Delmon politely asks their names but then promptly turns over their tables, takes their food, and stands guard behind his barricade.

Tom looks around unsuccessfully for the halfling, but Lia who has been observing much from her position knows that the culprit has hidden himself behind two ale kegs near the bar.

Tom observes Delmon's actions with slightly raised and extremely bushy eyebrows. 

"Should something be done about that one?"

"Some restrains might be wise," agreed Althoris, "I would also suggest oto move away. May be upstairs? It's getting way too crowded her. And uncomfortable."

Carnation emerges from one of the rooms. Seeing the commotion, she fights the urge to hide behind a book and puts on her cloak. It wasn’t the noise of a usual tavern that disturbed her before, it wasn’t the screaming hag, and it isn’t the people rushing to the bartender now. It’s the man gathering tables to the sound of small explosions whenever a tabletop hits the ground.

She moves around the construct to find Delmon.

“I would like to sleep!”

Emphasising every word, she tries to gather as many glasses of wine he has horded as possible.