Its all in the Cards.

The eye of the storm pulls back a red covered book, and a book case swings open. It reveals a secret room that contains bookshelves packed with tomes.
A heavy wooden chest with clawed iron feet stands against the south wall, its lid half-closed. Sticking out of the chest is a skeleton in leather armor. Clutched in the skeleton's left hand is a letter.

"A secret room… beware of traps around that chest—and that letter. And everything else." He shrugged. "Briar, I do believe your talents are needed here?"

Eye of the Storm squinted at the skeletons, having an odd sense that he was looking at a previous victim of this particular scam.
"Next time I see those kids I'm going to skewer them."

The fairy nods once with determination, pauses, then tilts her head to the side as she observes the area before she enters. She gives a little shimmy and steps forward. "Let me work my magic," she giggles and creeps closer to get a better view of the space, wary of dangers that might be ready to spring as they encroach on this secret place.

Alyria steps up to the room with everyone else to watch, shield poised and ready in case something jumped out and attacked. Watching Briar like a hawk, not wanting her to get more hurt than she is, she mutters, "You may not have the chance Eye of the Storm, I'm starting to doubt the children's existence myself."

It seems like whatever traps were in this room, the dead body has already triggered them.

Without touching down, Briar flutters in to quickly tug the letter from the boney grasp. She zips back out of the concealed space to check the contents of the parchment with the rest of the group.

Briar flies out with the note leaving the rest of the chest unexplored.
She breaks the seals of the Note and unrolls it.



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 bastard 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

Ashtar scrunched up his face and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing of the contents of the letter. He looked over the room, checking the papers on the desk to see if any of the contents caught his eyes, and looked over the books on the shelves to get a better sense of the room's inhabitant.

Having read the note with a nose wrinkled in disgust, Briar hands the parchment over to Alyria and shakes her head as if to try and loose the words from her mind. "Mm-mm, mm-mm" she murmurs a chain of negative grunts and looks back to the room from whence the letter was found. Cautiously, she creeps back in to look into the chest and about the skeletal figure in search of any remaining belongings or trinkets. As she begins to search, she also begins to rub her itching palm again against the roughness of her adventuring leathers.

Ashtar searches the desk and finds that it has several items resting atop it: an oil lamp, a jar of ink, a quill pen, a tinderbox, and a letter kit containing a red wax candle, four blank sheets of parchment, and a wooden seal bearing a windmill. The desk drawer is empty except for an iron key.
The bookshelves hold hundreds of tomes covering a range of topics, including history, warfare, and alchemy. There are also several shelves containing first-edition collected works of poetry and fiction.

Brair searches the skeletal remains, you find a black wooden pipe, and 3 darts stuck into his rib cage and tattered leather armor.
In the chest, she finds 3 blank books with black leather covers, 2 health potions, 3 spell scrolls, the deed to the house and a windmill, and a signed will.

Ashtar felt guilty, but this was a haunted house, and they were clearly trapped here, so the guilt quickly disappeared as he bagged several things from the desk. He could always use more papers, and that quill looked exquisite. Plus that iron key could prove useful.

Mood changing like the sky during the summer rains, Briar’s second pass through the creepy room brings a glitter back to her recently sullen eyes. She gasps quietly in joy, as if seeing an adorable field mouse playing fiddle, and whispers an exclamation: "Whoa, so many more things!"

She quickly pockets the pipe and the darts from the skeletal body. Nimble fingers scoop the journals into the crook of one arm, while the other coddles a collection of scrolled parchments. Between both hands, she carried the potions out like maracas, elbows pinching in towards her waist to carry all the goods in one trip.

"Look at all this stuff!" She proudly declares as she stands central in the room for all to see.

"The library in the last room alone is worth a fortune. But it will do us no good if we cannot escape this place. Still, carry what you can. I am sure this place will spontaneously combust just to spite us out of a payday."
As the parchment is passed to him Eye of the Storm slowly read the letters, squinting. The Tabaxi came from the deep forests where there was little need for written words among his people. But he managed to struggle through the words.
"I am confused who this Strahd is exactly. The people of the caravan said their lord was changed. But this man is claims to be from the outside, like us. Kind of him to state plainly he's an evil bastard though."

He did note it was not that expensive to own land here, at least not for a retiring adventurer. But then again, who would want to live in this accursed land?

"Well, let's save the basement for last. I hope none of you had a heavy lunch.."

Ashtar takes a look at the papers and realizes a few things, he has no idea what any of the dates or times means on it. The months and years on the deed and will are nothing he has ever heard of. Maybe these lands have a different calendar system all together.
He also realizes he truly does not know what day it is. How long did he sleep while the caravan traveled through the mist? Was it mere hours or days or weeks? How long were they in Madam Eva's Tent? It was morning when they entered and was night time when they left, but it only felt like they were in there for an hour. Maybe time works differently here...

"Next room?" Ashtar looked at Alyria.

With a shake of her head, she passes the letter on. "It does sound like he is from afar. I wish we'd gotten the name of their Prince so we could be sure." Before nodding to Ashtar's question of passing on, she takes one more look around the room to make sure they didn't miss anything (and maybe swipes a fictional romance novel or two on her way).