Chapter Two: Death House Upstairs

Two innocent children,
Alone and afraid,
A house stands behind them,
It’s owners mislaid.

With eyes round and weeping,
Their pleas deeply felt,
A monster below!
And brother to help.

What harm could they mean,
What dangers await,
With justice to mete,
You step through the door to settle their fate.

Your first test arrives,
In fair Barovia!

Entering the house, you were somewhat surprised to find it well maintained, clean, and fresh. Carefully painted and carved murals lined the walls, sparkling goblets and cutlery lay upon tables, and lush rugs and furs covered the floors.

You noticed a windmill crest on the hilt of a sword hanging above a fireplace, and soon realised it must the the house sigil as you saw it on tapestries and tableware. Zane was pleased to find some rather fashionable capes and headwear, though it was rather last season.

The only odd thing was the absolute stillness — nothing moved, and no sounds were heard.

Closer inspection of the murals revealed further strangeness — interwoven with the flowers and nymphs were serpents and skulls, twisted faces and wolves hidden in carved foliage.

Sumptuous looking food filled a pantry, but tasting it revealed that it was plain and flavourless. Garn warned you all that despite appearances, there was a dark foreboding layered over the house, though it had no obvious origin.

You moved through the first floor, finding no clues as to what may have been disturbing the poor children.

Moving up to the second story, you found more of the same. Free from signs of age, clear of dust, and yet seemingly completely uninhabited. It was as if the owners had left only recently and not returned.

A large wood-framed portrait of the family hung above a mantle, two stern looking adults and their three children — the smiling faces of Rose and Thorn, and a swaddled baby being held by the woman — somewhat disdainfully, though perhaps you imagined that. And surely you also imaged their eyes following you as you moved around the landing?

You worked your way into what must be the family library, where you discovered a trove of floor-to-ceiling books covering a huge range of topics from history to warfare to alchemy. Zandeyr immediately ensconced himself in reading, leaving the rest of you to search further.

Bannor discovered a large iron key in the desk, it’s purpose unclear. The search bore further fruit when you realised that there must be a hidden room adjoining the library, and Xarann was quick to discover a book spine that when shifted opened a door into a musty stone chamber.

The chamber walls were covered with more books, though these dealt with altogether darker material: fiend summoning and necromantic rituals of a cult calling themselves ‘The Priests of Osybus’.

Of more interest was a heavy wooden chest with clawed iron feet, which was held half open by a skeleton in decaying leather armour. Viktor approached the figure, confirming it was no longer living, before Bannor carefully inspected the chest for traps.

He determined the dead thief had been killed by a poison dart trap, and gently prised a letter clutched in the skeleton’s hand. He also retrieved three spell scrolls from the chest, as well as the deed to the house, a deed to a windmill, and a will signed by Gustav and Elizabeth Durst that bequeathed the house and all property to Rosavalda and Thornboldt Durst.

Garn took the letter and read it aloud to the group:

My most pathetic servant,

I am not a messiah sent to you by the Dark Powers of this land. I have not come to lead you on a path to immortality.

However many souls you have bled on your hidden altar, however many visitors you have tortured in your dungeon, know that you are not the ones who brought me to this beautiful land.You are but worms writhing in my earth.

You say that you are cursed, your fortunes spent. You abandoned love for madness, took solace in the bosom of another woman, and sired a stillborn son. Cursed by darkness? Of that I have no doubt. Save you from your wretchedness? I think not. I much prefer you as you are.

Your dread lord and master,
Strahd von Zarovich

Unsettled by the letter, and the ritual books, you moved up to the third floor of the house.

As you climbed the steps, the atmosphere started changing completely. A draft of stale air flowed downward, and the wooden floor creaked and groaned underfoot. Dust covered the floor and cobwebs clung to the walls and ceilings. Strangely this was the floor where the children said their brother Walter waited — but it didn’t seem the place for a baby.

You emerged onto a landing upon which stood a dusty suit of black plate armour with a hounds head helmet. As you approached it it suddenly sprung into life! Without panicking, you attacked the strange sight, and before long had subdued it back into a pile of metal on the floor.

Moving through the rooms, you found what must be the master bedroom, along with a some handsome jewellery which Bannor was quick to pocket. Investigating a closest, you were totally surprised to be attacked by what seemed to be an animated broom of all things. A quite deadly broom as it turned out, as it inflicted some grievous wounds on Garn, much to Zane’s nervous amusement.

As you approached the next door, Garn’s senses prickled and he told you that something strongly evil lay in the room beyond. You carefully worked your way inside to find a bedroom with shrouded with cobwebs and dust. As you approached the bed, a figure suddenly rose screeching from the bedsheets.

A skeletally thin and terrified young woman attacked you, her cold hands rending savagely into Viktor. She didn’t last long, and was soon a huddled mass on the ground. Bannor searched the room carefully, and discovered that the hanging mirror in the room concealed a secret door that opened to a staircase leading up.

Before taking these stairs, you moved back to the remaining room on this floor. Zandeyr opened the door, and what lay within tested the mettle of everyone.

At the end of the small, cold, dark room stood a crib. A crib shrouded in hanging black lace. Bannor and Garn immediately backed far away, terror in their eyes.

Rattled, Viktor raised his shield and slowly, carefully moved toward the crib, with Xarann close by. Both hearts were pounding as you drew nearer, an unspeakable fear rising in your gut. As Viktor silently whispered a prayer, the shroud suddenly flung away from you as if it were alive.

Xarann cursed and raised his bow, before a somewhat apologetic voice from behind revealed that it had been an arrow from Zandeyr that removed the covering.

In the crib lay a tightly wrapped baby — or at least something the shape of a baby. This must surely be Walter. But there was no sign of movement from the bundle. Taking a deep breath, Viktor carefully peeled back the layers of the wrapping. Still there was no movement or sign of life.

And as the covering was completely removed it turned out that there wasn’t just no sign of life, there was nothing at all.

Recomposing yourselves, you moved up into the attic via the hidden stairwell.

You found two rooms seemingly sized for children, one of which had a disturbing smiling doll in a yellow lace dress. Sewn into the lining was the phrase “Is No Fun, Is No Blinski!' — no doubt the makers mark.

A third room appeared to be for storage, containing sheet covered furniture and a chest. Inside the chest you found a blood stained sheet in which was wrapped the skeletal remains of a young woman.

Zandeyr recognised the sheets as matching the ones in the room where you were attacked by the specter, and you reasoned this must be the nursemaid’s remains, hidden and unceremoniously stuffed into the chest. Viktor spoke words of absolution over the remains and you moved on.

The final doorway on this floor was locked with a large iron padlock. Bannor tried the iron key found below with success, and you entered the room. Two children’s beds lay within, along with a beautifully crafted dolls house and chest of toys. The window opposite was bricked up, and on the floor in the centre of the room lay two small skeletons, wearing tattered but familiar clothing. The smaller of the two cradled a stuffed doll that you also recognised. It was Rose and Thorn.

Garn fell to his knees, hands dropping loose by his side, his face a frozen stare. Bannor set his shoulders and started to investigate the chest, while Viktor studied the dollhouse — which turned out to be a perfect replica of the house you stood in. As they poked and prodded, the ghosts of Rose and Thorn materialised in the centre of the room. Thorn ran to the chest and told Bannor to leave his toys alone.

Startled, you asked the children what they were doing here. They told you they were trapped here in the house. When you asked how they had come to die, the true horror of their story emerged. Their parents had locked them in here to protect them from “the monster in the basement”, and then had abandoned them to die from hunger. They had haunted the house ever since, unable to rest or leave. The two simulacra outside were creations of the house, made to lure passers by — like you! — inside.

Furious as this revelation, you vowed to them that you would cleanse the basement of whatever evil lay down there, and revenge them for their parents horrendous abandonment. When you asked how to get to the basement, Rose pointed to the dollhouse and told you simply, “there’s a secret door in the attic'.

Looking closely at the model you could see a spiral staircase led down from the furniture store room, and when you returned to the spot you found a very obvious doorway (Bannor was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before).

The children pleaded not to be left alone, but you promised only to return to them once your work was done. They looked scared and worried, but didn’t stop you from leaving. Viktor carefully bundled up the remains of their bodies, with the intention of interring them and hopefully setting their ghost to rest.

You made your way down the spiral stairs, the floor changing to hard packed clay and dirt as you got further down, before you emerged in a pitch black and narrow four foot passageway. The floor was heavy earth, clay and rock, and the walls only 7 feet high and braced with timber supporting beams, and the air hung damp and dank.

An eerie, incessant chant echoed from somewhere ahead as you raised your lanterns. The monster awaits.

Curse of Strahd

Chapter Two: Death House Upstairs

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