"That could be it... But if it is abandoned, then who opened the gates? The wind?" Alev retorts to Sergei. A theory pops out in his head, answering his own question. "Do you think that the werewolves could be inside? A big and creepy abandoned manor in the middle of the woods is exactly the place I could imagine a monster hiding in, and this gate looks like one that would lead to such a thing. This might be a lead to their hideout."

Sergei, you don't know any structures with similar design. It looks ancient and pitted by time.

Skip, you don't notice anybody or thing that opened the gate. The tracks of the beasts travel through the gate and continue on the road on the other side.

Lucan, you are correct. This structure doesn't appear on any of the maps.

The headless statues stand nearly 100 feet tall, and the wall stretches farther than that. The wall bridges the gap where two mountains meet. It appears to be almost 20 feet thick.

As the party is discussing what to do, the fog around them begins to slowly close in, herding the group onward. It is almost sinister in the way it swirls and approaches.

Rudick had initially brushed off the fog with little more than a huff of mild annoyance, as the tracks had larger remained the biggest concern. Its only when they disappear because of it that his arms shook in almost murderous outrage. Fortunately, the group's stumbling into a road seemed to be enough of a distraction to expel the anger in heated exhale. Hoping more than figuring the group may yet stumble next on a nearby town to get their bearings, Rudick didn't even question walking the road for a time. But, when it eventually came to the gate...

"Hmn..... There's sorcery afoot, one way or another." Rudick said, before then glancing towards the encroaching fog. "Doubt its the beasts we hunt. But perhaps... an ally of theirs? Hmph! Either way, better odds in fighting past any ambush than whatever else may be in store denying the invitation." With that, Rudick presses forward and beyond the gate; but, not without making sure his shield was secured and a warhammer was well in hand. 

Sergei takes in the sheer size of the structures and says,

"Perhaps a manor house is not grand enough for such a large wall. What is more, I do not recognize this structural style from what I was taught in my studies. It does appear to be very old, though. Some ruins forgotten in the forest? I could see werewolves making that a home, as well."

Sergei notices the fog thickening behind him and suppresses a yelp, and moves closely behind Rudick, who appears to him to exude confidence, which Sergei is happy to follow.

Alev moves as soon as Sergei does, taking cover behind his companions. "Sorcery, you say?" He replies to Rudick. "The werewolves having a spellcasting ally could be troublesome, but I doubt it. There is definitely something weird going on here, but who or what would willingly work with those beasts anyway? Or are werewolves themselves able of using magic?"

As the rest of the party follows those three through the colossal gate, it swings close behind you with another tortured scream. The walls of fog engulf the trail behind you, matching your pace. 

The party continues along the trail. You think that the sun should be rising in a few hours. Towering trees, whose rope are lost in a heavy gray mist, all but block out the muffled light of the moon. The sky overhead rumbles with thunder, and an occasional flash of lightning illuminates the night. The tee trunks are unnaturally close to one another, and the woods have the silence of a forgotten grave, yet exude the feeling of an unvoiced scream. The fog lingers near the gate and travels no further. However, a fine mist blankets your surroundings.

Thadalas, about twenty minutes in while walking along the rutted path, you catch the scent of death in the air.

Thadalas looks nervous as they get transported through the mist into this strange land. "Not certain we're the hunters anymore." Thadalas says aloud. "This mist is odd. I believe it moved us somewhere else; these woods aren't familiar." he adds on, noticing the local fauna is different.

"I think you're correct; this cannot be the work of werewolves. They're savage creatures whom only want to hunt for bloodlust. There's more than meets the eye here." Thadalas continues onward, as he looks up to the sky for a moment to see if he can spot any constellations that he'd recognize, or perhaps the sun and moon.

Upon realizing there's an overcast, he's unable to determine anything. His nose twitches, as he detects the smell of death. "Do you smell that? Something's dead nearby." Thadalas warns the others, as he nocks an arrow into his shortbow and cautiously approaches the source of the scent.

Lucan is still confused on how a gate as big and as tall as this didn’t even mentioned or drawn on any books or map. He follows his friends that have found the tracks of the werewolves quietly.

Thadalas’ comments about strange lands and the changing of local fauna makes him unease, they might really be transported to another realm. He thinks he ever heard of that. He opens a book called “The Manual of Magic and Planes” and search anything about fog leading to another realms.

Arcana check 9

When he smell the stench of death he readies his harp on the side of his waist and draws the silver rapier expecting danger to strikes.

”I smell it too, the dead is nearby, maybe a victim of the werewolves or an undead being. I hope it was neither of those.” 

Sergei follows the others, not knowing what else to do with himself. Eventually he catches a whiff of what the others are talking about, and crinkles his nose. A part of him inside thinks, Maybe I'm not cut out for adventuring. He resolves to look back in the direction from which they came, rather than ahead. He tells himself that he's "watching his comrades' backs". He's certainly not avoiding looking in the direction where he might risk seeing what is causing that smell...

Catching the scent on the breeze, Skip flips up his hood and draws his rapier and a dagger. ‘Best be prepare’d’ he thinks to himself. He moves slightly away from the group, flanking Thadals almost, and uses the fog and shadows to disappear 

stealth roll 14

After seeing Sergei crinkle his nose and the rest of his companions' reacting to something on the breeze, Alev lowers his hood and sniffes the air... Just to recoil back and cover his beak on the the fabric of his robes in disgust.

"...It better be just some dead animal." He exclaims, his wings flapping to clear the air around him. "I didn't sign up for undead beings."

The foul stench leads you to a human corpse half-buried in the underbrush about fifteen feet from the road. The young man appears to be a commoner and is lying on his back. His muddy clothes are torn and raked with claw marks. Crows have been at the body, which is surrounded by paw prints. A gaping hole where his stomach used to be lies bare to air. Tattered bits of organs are strewn about the body. The man has obviously been dead for several days, his last expression of agony frozen on his face. He holds a crumpled letter in one hand.

Lucan, you search your books, but find nothing about where you could be. You see that the Ethereal Plans is choked in mist, but your surroundings here are solid and physical.

Gagging at the stench of rotting flesh, and the terrible wounds before him, Skip moves to the body and leans in to remove the letter from the hand. He also searches the body for any items, identification markings or other wounds

Investigating body 10

Finding nothing relevant to his lingering question, Lucan stores his book back inside his luggage. He then braves the stench and kneels down beside Skip and inspects the claw marks and paw prints, trying to confirms that this is indeed the works of werewolves.

Nature check 11

Rudick muttered something in Orcish under his breath in response to all the talk about the dead, and seemed yet determined to just keep walking the path; keeping the comments in mind, but otherwise failing to acknowledge them in anyways.

Not until they saw -- or at least, someone calls out the corpse along the way. "Hm.... Poor sod. Probably a victim of our beasts." He spits off to the side. "Didn't even have the decency to eat the rest... Either way, we shouldn't linger. Not until we have our bearings. So hurry your once over and lets be on with it." Rudick said from the road to those that went over for a closer look, and gestured further along the road.

Fear quickly taking a backseat to his curiosity, Alev makes his way to the front in order to get a better view. As he sees the corpse, he almost wishes he hadn't. "Have you found anything on him?" He asks to Skip. "Like some clue on who he was, or what he was doing here? Maybe he could have been carrying something that might be useful to us now that he won't be needing it anymore, the poor guy..."

Thadalas not seemingly bothered by the stencth of the corpse like the others are. "It can't be a coincidence. This man was slain by a werewolf." Thadalas makes the declaration without needing to further examine the corpse as closely as the others are.

"Since he was holding a letter, one may assume he was a courier, delivering a message to someone. Whether the werewolves killed him out of bloodlust, or intentionally prevented the delivery of said message. I suspect it would be the former; otherwise, they would not have left the letter in his hand." Thadalas makes assumptions furthermore, trying to deduce the situation.

Sergei is still scanning the woods, the trail, looking anywhere but at the corpse. 

“What does the letter say?”

You pry the letter from the bodies cold grasp. A large red "B" is set into the was of the flimsy parchment. Breaking the seal, you reach in and pull out a letter. The letter is written in spidery cursive that is hard to read.It says:

   "Hail thee of might and valor,

      I, the Burgomaster of Barovia, send you honor--- with despair.

      My adopted daughter, the fair Ireena Kolyana, has been these three past night bitten by a vampyr. For over four hundred years, this creature has drained the lifeblood of my people. Now, my dear Ireena languishes and dies from an unholy wound caused by this vile beast. He has become too powerful to conquer.

      So I say to you, give us up for dead and encircle this land with the symbols of good. Let holy men call upon their power that the devil may be contain in the walls of weeping Barovia. Leave our sorrows to our graves, and save the world from this evil of ours. 

      The is much wealth entrapped in this community. Return for your reward after we are all departed on to a better life.

                                                                                                                                                            Kolyan Ludinovich, Burgomaster"

As the party is gathered around the body, a chorus of wolf howls split the night accompanied need by a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. A few more bowls join in, uncomfortably close.

Lucan, you get down close to the muddy soil and look at the tracks. You determine that the were made by normal wolves. Werewolves have a distinctive track that don't match the ones you are looking at.

“These are not the works of a werewolf but of mundane wolves.” He looks toward his party, regarding the wounds on the corpse and the paw prints on the ground.

Then he listens to the encroaching howls. Fear began to override his senses as he steps back behind the party.
”It might be the wolves, they are coming back to finish their meal. Should we stand our ground or leave before they arrive? We’re not here to slay mundane wolves anyway.”

Lucan readies his rapier and harp, waiting for the party to respond.