Our small cadre of heroes approach the tower at midnight, narrowly avoiding catastrophic conflagration by alchemical flames! Valdr is barely held back as Malchior and Daven investigate and identify the wagon, discovering that it is a magical carriage able to summon ethereal draft horses on command, and finding no arcane danger, Daven climbs in through trapdoor beneath it. Precariously strung like holiday lights are one hundred and one phials of glimmering alchemists fire, trip-wired to the doorknob. A quick perusal of the inside yields a narrow wardrobe stuffed with utility kits of all kinds amongst theatre props and finery, a claw scarred trunk, a tiny wooden box, a silver ewer, a wooden cage with a clucking chicken within, and a lyre with golden strings. Pocketing the box, Daven opens the trunk, in which lie a battle axe and flail, a light crossbow and silvered bolts. Each party member takes a phial of fire and Daven rigs the trap back up before exiting, after which Lucian interrogates the hapless avian. Threatening to feed him to the vegan warlock, who will be angry as he eats, or so Lucian says, he frightens the poor thing enough into singing! Discovering the cart belongs to a woman named "Esmerelda," and that it was she who locked the chicken up and would return at some point. Lucian offers the chicken the choice of freedom, opening the cage, but, still too frightened by the mad druid and undead owl crowding its space, it stays put. Lucian and Malchior sense a lingering magical presence that seems to hold the rickety old tower up, Nikael spying some sort of chain mechanism that rises through the centre through a narrow window as Valdr simply strolls up to the door and knocks, triggering the telltale vibrating hum and tingle of static electric buildup of a lightning trapo! Wounded only in pride the group waits out the surge of lightning with a short sabbatical, Malchior's ritual of idenfity on the tower itself nulled by a field of draining power. While the "intellectuals" struggle to decipher the way in, Valdr cocks his head and mimes the poses of the stick figures in sequence following the lines causing the door to creak open ominously. "Oh, the door is open now," the half-human points out casually, Nikael invoking shadow techniques to cast pass without trace as Malchior and Lucian facepalm at the simple brilliance of Valdr. Large iron chains stretch up through holes in the ceiling around a square metal plate in the middle of the floor, "an elevator machine," Nikael points out to an awestruck Malchior. Four clay statues stand at each corner of the platform, and they animate and pull the chain down, inducing post traumatic flashbacks of Strahd's animated statues in Lucian's mind and startling Malchior so badly he fumbles drawing his rod, the implement clattering to the floor. Valdr is more excited about the elevator because it's different than boring old stairs, and he likes surprise and variety. The floors between first and last are too unsafe to even consider braving, open to the elements or with floors eaten away by rotting mould. Nikael is once again baffled by the illegibility of Valarith's journal, the flowery and expressive script making the shorthand commentary nearly impossible to piece together. As the looters reach the top floor after cycling the elevator a few times, they come into a chamber dilapidated by time and use, but no less a warm abode with creature comforts abound. There is a wooden chest reeking of lavender, and Daven retrieves from it another perfectly preserved Vistani head, as Valdr points out the lack of dust on the suit of armor standing in the room, indicating recent animation. Lucian opens the tiny wooden box given to him by Daven, finding a deck of tarot cards exactly the same as the ones Madam Eva read from on the night they received their fortunes. The desk has been ransacked, but there are burnt pages of a journal in the tiny iron stove and Valdr interjects that the armor must have burnt them seeing as it had recently moved. No one recognizes the unfortunate Vistani to whom the head belonged to, and Daven wraps it in the lavender scented silk it lay in before tucking it into a sack to enjoy later. Casting detect magic down on the ramshackle second floor, Lucian is baffled by the same nullification field that hampered Malchior outside the tower, indicating that it originates either from the tower itself or from within. With an eye out the window for danger, Nikale urges haste after hearing the distant howl of wolves as Daven tears through the desk one last time and Malchior ascertains that the suit of armor is indeed magical or enchanted. Nikael and Valdr begin disassembling the armor, finding the gem at its heart powering an animation spell, hitherto spoiled after being taken apart by sheer curiosity. Behind the armor stand is a slightly ajar stone in the wall, a brick out of place, and pulling it out Nikael reveals a compartment with the legendary Sunsword laying within, platinum hilt gleaming and crystal blade singing along the stone as it is drawn forth! With Valdr shouldering the inert suit of armor, Nikael stuffing the crystal bladed relic in his pack, and everyone else making like the wind, the party heads back down the elevator. Greeting them at the bottom is the closed door and the sound of snapping jaws gibbering howls and snarling laughter, stepping out to find Nikael jerkily posing in the motions needed to reopen the tower, having shadowstepped out of the window, and face to face with the hungry eyes of almost two dozen werewolves! Among the pack, yapping and angry, the leader standing taller than the rest, with bright yellow eyes and long terrible fangs, calm unlike his comrades, patient for the coming violence...
