The shadowed inn stands at the end of a forgotten road, overgrown with weeds and scattered with debris. No smoke rises from the chimney, and no light seeps through the bottle-glass windows. The inn itself, shrouded in ivy and overgrown with grass and moss, appears deserted, but upon closer inspection, you see shapes moving inside, and hear muffled voices. As you move to open the door, a chill runs up your spine—is it a mistake to enter?