Rahadin guides you through a door, his face contorting with pain. "Gods," he hisses as he pulls you into the shadows. "Stay low and quiet."

From your perch on the balcony, you peer down at a scene straight from the nightmares of the most depraved minds.  The grand hall below is lit by flickering candlelight and filled with the stench of spiced perfume and sickly cider.  Unholy chanting fills the air as humanoid figures writhe and twist in a macabre dance.

In the centre of the room, three figures kneel before a blood-stained altar bearing a pentagram.  You recognise the traitorous Alano and Maribelle from earlier, but the third figure is a horror beyond your imagination.  A creature with an elongated body with several dangling arms hanging from her torso, her lithe form sways with a perverse pleasure.  She stands well over 8ft tall.

"Very good, Maribelle and Vauquelin," the creature hisses in a voice dripping with malice. "Soon, our Mistress will be reborn, and her grip on Barovia will only tighten. The hour of our ascension is at hand."

"We've tarried enough," Rahadin interjects sharply, cutting through the dreadful scene before you.  "Time is of the essence. We must locate the others and make haste."  The urgency in his voice is palpable as he leads you across the balcony, deftly avoiding any potential obstacles in your path, and motioning for you to follow him through a door at the far end.

"Mind yourself, Gal,"  Ioben whispers urgently, his voice barely above a breath.  He strains to keep up with Rahadin, all the while evading detection.

Galqarin - Please make a Stealth check.

((Great roll!))

Your footsteps barely make a sound as you glide across the balcony, your form shrouded in darkness.  The scene below is one of horror and transformation.  Alano, once a timid butler, has been remade into a creature of darkness.  His flesh peels away like rotting fruit, exposing the sickly red scales beneath.  Goat-like horns protrude from his forehead, twisting like the gnarled branches of a dead tree.  The flickering candlelight dances across his monstrous form, casting an ominous glow.  And yet, there is something in the way he carries himself, a newfound power that radiates from every fibre of his being.  It's a power that is dark and unholy, a power that can only be born from the depths of hell.

As you push through the door, you are met with a ghastly sight.  The grand staircase before you appears as if it has been taken over by some dark, organic growth.  Long, fleshy tendrils extend from the handrails, pulsing with an unnatural life force.  Beyond the staircase, a man is cowering, his eyes wide with terror.  Before you can react, he lets out an anguished scream, and you see a sharp, black horn burst through his flesh, only to quickly retract.  The man falls to the ground, lifeless, and you watch in horror as his body is dragged away by some unseen malevolent force.  The air is thick with the stench of decay and the sound of wet, slithering movements echoes through the corridor.

Ioben's voice cuts through the eerie silence, his words laced with urgency.  His eyes dart nervously around the room, his mind reeling from the horror he's just witnessed.  "We need to get out of here," he mutters, his voice shaking with fear.

Rahadin's features remain stoic, his resolve unbroken.  "We can't waste time on the other guests," he declares, his tone devoid of compassion.  "Our only hope is to reunite with your companions and make our escape.  Follow me."

> "We need to get out of here," he mutters, his voice shaking with fear.

> Rahadin's features remain stoic, his resolve unbroken.  "We can't waste time on the other guests," he declares, his tone devoid of compassion.  "Our only hope is to reunite with your companions and make our escape.  Follow me."

"Tell me something I don't know", hisses Galqarin, his voice dispairing.

As you ascend the stairs behind Rahadin, your heart beats with anticipation.  Ahead lies the possibility of reuniting with your companions and finding a way out of this cursed place.  The room at the top of the stairs is small and poorly lit, the air thick with an unsettling stillness.  As you step inside, you see a curious pattern etched into the floor - a three-by-three grid of black and white squares.

The door ahead ((to the right of the map)) is flanked by a curious lever that begs to be pulled.  To the north and south, the stone walls are marked by grooves that appear to be tailor-made for some arcane object.  On either side of the entrance ((to the left of the map)) rest shelves housing intricately carved stone figurines, resembling pieces from the game of Dragonchess.  "Reckon these pieces are the key to unlocking the door," Ioben speculates, his gaze fixed on the grooves in the wall.

As you examine the four carved stone figurines on the shelves, a sense of unease creeps over you.  Upon closer inspection, you notice that the intricate details of each piece resemble your companions with eerie accuracy.  The likeness is so uncanny that it feels as though someone has meticulously crafted them to be exact replicas of your friends, save one.  They are as follows:

• White King (Sandu)
• White Knight (Dallid)
• White Bishop (Dormark)

Upon closer inspection, you notice that the final figurine bears an uncanny likeness to the infamous Strahd von Zarovich himself.  In the dim light, its eyes almost seem to follow you as you examine it as if daring you to make a move.

• Black King (Strahd von Zarovich)

"Any idea what order they go in?" Ioben asks, perplexed.

"I trust you two are capable of solving the riddle," Rahadin sneers, a smirk forming on his lips.  "That being said, I've always assumed that Sandu and Dallid were the masterminds of your little band."  His eyes gleamed with a cruel light as he continued, "But it seems that I may have been mistaken.  Perhaps your group is not as resourceful as I had hoped."

"I am not good at puzzles", says Galqarin sadly. "But I will try".

"There are four pieces and four slots; three to our right and one to our left. So the Black King goes in the slot to the left? Or is that too simple?"

"The floor has coloured squares. Next to the alcoves there are three dark and one light square. One black piece and three white - so white with dark, black with light?"

"Or maybe it is how they move to get to the other door. That would put the Dallid, Dormark and Sandu on the right side, and Strahd on the left. If the door is the goal..."

"But if the lever were the goal, then it would be Dormark, Dallid, then Strahd, with Sandhu on the left side."

"Ioben, I'm confused, what do you think?"

Ioben ponders for a time, his brow furrowed in deep thought.  "I've played my fair share of chess," he finally speaks. "The aim is to trap the king in checkmate, where he is not only threatened by an opposing piece but also is unable to retreat and flee. And I think you were right when you placed Strahd, the Black King, on the left."

Rahadin nods and a sardonic smile spreads across his lips.  "If you believe that the Count is so easily cornered outside of a game, then you are sorely mistaken.  However, it's clear that Strahd would stand opposed to the other three.  Though you will find that my master is far more amenable than this puzzle suggests.  Do you have knowledge of how the other pieces move?"

> Rahadin nods and a sardonic smile spreads across his lips.  "If you believe that the Count is so easily cornered outside of a game, then you are sorely mistaken.  However, it's clear that Strahd would stand opposed to the other three.  Though you will find that my master is far more amenable than this puzzle suggests.  Do you have knowledge of how the other pieces move?"

"If the goal is to corner the Count, first we must put him under pressure. Thus Dormark should take the first slot. the Knight, Dallid, should be in the last slot, to prevent Strahd escaping towards us. Our King, Sandu, standing between his Bishop and Knight, will stop the Count escaping in the other directions."

Ioben's weathered face breaks into a rare smile, a sight that seems almost miraculous given the hellish ordeal he's endured. With a boisterous clap on the back, he declares, "You've done it, Gal!  Gods, we'll give it a test, but it looks correct."  Even the normally stoic Rahadin nods in approval.

As you place the statues in their corresponding crevices, you approach the lever with a cautious step.  "Have a care, Gal," Ioben says nervously.  Ioben says, his nerves jangling.  "You might have cracked it, but who knows what other horrors this place has in store for us."  You steel yourself and pull the lever, the sound of mechanical cogs whirring in the stagnant air as the door slowly creaks open.

Beyond the door, a silvery veil shimmers like the surface of a still lake, rippling with otherworldly energy.  Though you cannot peer through the enigmatic substance, you know with an eerie certainty that your friends are waiting for you on the other side.  As you push through the veil, a tugging and pulling sensation grip your being, yanking you from one plane of existence to the next.

Memories of your childhood come flooding back, as you find yourself transported to the orphanage playground, surrounded by the children you once knew.  While your peers revel in play and merriment, a creeping sense of dread descends upon you, for this is the time when he would always show up.  The one who had stalked you relentlessly, dogging your every step with cruel taunts and worse.

And there he is, just as you feared.  Izek Strasni, the bane of your childhood existence, looms over you like a dark storm cloud.  "What's wrong, Gal?  Got a furball?"  His voice drips with venom.  "Surprised they let you out, freak!"   You are helpless as he grabs you and spins you around like a rag doll, then throws you to the ground.  You brace for the beating that always follows, but when you open your eyes, you see something else entirely.

Your friends stand before you, locked in battle with strange and terrifying apparitions that seem to float in the air.  You can see that both Dormark and Dallid have taken minor injuries, but they fight on with fierce determination.  And there, beside you, stand Ioben and Rahadin, ready to join the fray.  As the fight rages on, you realise that this strange place may hold more terrors than anything you ever faced in your past.

Galqarin - Please roll initiative.