"Evening," one of the gypsies says, in a thick accent. He takes the invitation from Wintermoon and glances at it, turning the paper over to look at the other side for a moment before handing it to the next. When all three have looked at it, the last hands it back to Wintermoon, and they all look up.
The first gypsy shrugs.
"What does it say?" he asks.
"The Burgomaster has requested our presence... Do you know where he might be?" Wintermoon looks about the room, "What is that infernal wailing?"
The gypsies glance at one another, and then at the man in the shadows. The moment stretches uncomfortably before the first whispers.
"You will find the burgomaster in his house."
Okay, now look, fellas, I'm going to ask you where we can find the burgomaster's house, and if one of you answers, 'where the burgomaster lives,' or any other such nonsense I am going to pinch somebody really hard in a place it won't feel very good.
Cerin watches the interaction from a distance. Namely the distance from his companions and the gypsies to the bar.
He drops a coin on the table with a polite smile.
"Is it always so damnably foggy here?"
The barman looks at the coin on the bar and then at Cerin. He seems to think hard before he answers.
"Yes," he says.
The gypsy stares at Jocelyn and then chuckles.
"The house is at the end of the street to the south," he whispers, smirking.
Bypassing the tavern and it's promise of comfort, Morgan will continue to follow the sound of crying, pausing for a quick prayer to Thoth: Please let me be strong enough.
Following the sound of sobbing down the street to the south, Morgan comes to a dark, two story townhouse. It is boarded up from inside, and the moaning sobs that float through the gray streets clearly come from within.
Anhur follows Morgan, of the same mind. "Why would someone seal themselves in a house?"
Hey, where is everybody going? Wintermoon, are we going to find those two or stay here?
Wintermoon nods to the gentlemen at the table, turns and touches Jake's arm as he does, then heads for the bar. He sidles up next to Cerin and whispers, "They were especially cautious to not attract the attention of the cloaked one in the corner." He looks towards the door as if just now realizing there were only three companions inside.
"We have the information we need though. Let's be off."
"I know not, friend Anhur, but we shall endeavor to find out."
Morgan will call out "Miss? Do you need help? If so, I can have you free shortly!"
The sobbing continues unabated.
"It is boarded up from the inside. Whoever she is, she is her own jailer and captive. I think it best that we let her be." Anhur concludes, though still unsettled.
Something makes Jake feel odd all of a sudden, as if she is beginning to sense that some of her companions are put off by her ways. She begins to examine he thoughts and feelings, even her manner of speech, wondering, "maybe I should just be more like them, then the other's might warm up to me," and so with those thoughts in her mind...Jake will follow Wintermoon, tugging on his sleeve, she will say
Hey, let's make sure he knows where were going, as she points at Cerin. Then calls out to him, Hey, C-man, we're heading after the other's stay here if you want to or come along. We're going to see if they figured anything out, but I promise we won't leave the village without you, okay.
She then hurries to stay with Wintermoon
"I don't know about that. Someone could have used magic to board up the door. I think at the very least we should try to find another way in to see if we can help her."
As you head across the square to the southern street, you hear the tavern's door creak open again. Glancing back, you see the cloaked figure silhouetted by the light from inside as he slips out and is almost immediately lost in the fog.
"Supposing she just wants to keep people out? We're just going to break in?"
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"My thanks," he says, before taking a drink.
When Jake and Wintermoon exit, he slugs down the rest of the drink, leaving another coin on the counter.
"For the conversation." he says, and he turns to follow. Emerging from the tavern, he looks up and down the street to find his companions.
When Jake is near the house, and hopefully near Morgan...
Morgan, what are you doing? Okay, I hear it now, that crying is definitely coming from inside, but can we just barge in uninvited? Isn't there some sort of local peace keeper we should check with first?
Cerin sees Wintermoon and Jake heading across the square to the street leading south.
Wintermoon and Jake approach the house with Cerin in tow... Jake sees Morgan heading around back and chases off after him. Wintermoon approaches Anhur though and looks at the house inquisitively.
"This may be the lady who's been afflicted. Have you found anything that might give us a clue as to who lives here?"
"No, and the woman seems unable or unwilling to answer our calls."
"This isn't our problem. Let us find this Burgomaster, and be on our business. We can tell him of this."
Morgan says nothing but will walk around the house, looking for an unboarded egress.
As Morgan and Jake emerge from the back of the house, "I was told the Burgomaster lives at the end of the street. Maybe, he will have better insight as to why this woman is wailing and gaoled."
He pauses and looks back down the street from whence they came, "We also might have a tail in the form of the shadowy figure from the bar."
The figure is still there, appearing in and out of the fog at the limit of Wintermoon's vision. Hearing himself spoken of, he steps forward. He's a pallid young man, fairly well-dressed, with a well made, antique sword at his hip. He has dark circles under his eyes and seems gaunt.
"My name is Ismark Kolyanovich," he says, and gives a nod of his head. While his accent is thick, it is not the same as the gypsies.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Ismark turns to Anhur, annoyed, and then takes a deep breath and shrugs. "You are very perceptive. What was it that gave me away?"
"Your accent, actually. So what business do you have in this strange place, and with us?"
"You have not spoken with many Barovians," he says. He shakes his head and chuckles. "I will tell you what my business is with you, when I know who you are."
"I am Morgan Il'Fayne, defender of the innocent and holy warrior of Thoth. What is it that you want from us? We were attempting to find a way to assist the young woman who is weeping uncontrollably."
"Welcome to Barovia, Morgan Il'Fayne," he says, and gives a small bow. He looks at the boarded up house. "Young woman?" He shakes his head. "Mad Mary has not been young for many years, and I fear there is nothing you can do to assist her. Unless you can bring her daughter back." He says the last with the clear understanding that it's an impossible suggestion. "As for what I want, I want to know why you are asking after my father."
Wintermoon looks back to the house wondering more about this woman called Mad Mary but at the mention of Ismark's father, "My name is Wintermoon. Is your father the Burgomaster? Maybe I misunderstand but your names are not the same. As for why, he requested assistance. We answered the call." He raises a hand to the south and suggests, "Please, let's walk to his house."
He looks startled and then understanding dawns.
"Kolyanovich means 'son of Kolyan,'" he says. "Forgive the confusion. How is it that he requested your assistance?" He sounds truly curious more than accusatory, and as you speak, he begins to lead you further along the south street.
Cerin produces the letter, and hands it to the man.
"Well-met Master Ismark. I am Cerin of H... Cerin Etherstrom. This letter was brought to the inn we were staying at. We responded, as it seemed most urgent."
"Do you ask after every stranger who comes into you town to talk to your father, or are we special?"
"Well met, Cerin Etherstrom." he says.
He takes the letter from you and frowns as he reads it. He looks closely at the seal, and is deep in thought when Morgan speaks. He looks at the holy warrior suspiciously for a moment.
"You're special," he says.
You've reached the end of the street, where a weary-looking mansion squats behind a rusting iron fence. The iron gates are twisted and torn. The right gate lies cast aside while the left swings crazily in the wind. The stuttering squeal and clang of the gate repeats with mindless precision. Weeds choke the grounds and press with menace upon the house itself. Yet, against the walls, the growth has been trodden under to form a path all about the domain. Heavy claw markings have stripped the once-beautiful finish of the walls. Great black blottings tell of the fires that have assailed the walls. Not a pane nor shard of glass stands in any window. All the windows are barred with heavy planking, each plank marked with stains of evil omen.
Ismark walks to the front door and pounds his fist against it.
"It's me," he calls, and you hear the scraping of furniture being pulled away from the door.
A few moments pass, and then the door swings open. The scent of decay hits you immediately. Ismark gestures, inviting you inside. From behind the door, a face peeks out. It is a beautiful young woman, with dark hair and pale skin. She wears a black mourning dress with a high collar, and her expression is grim as she takes you in at a glance, and then peers into the fog behind you. The ever-present sound of Mad Mary sobbing continues.
"Come in quickly," the young woman says.
Morgan enters and waits for the others to follow suit.
Anhur steps inside as well. "What is all this about?"
Jake will follow, and stare at the pale woman, looking for clues about her that she might reveal
Wow, musty, somebody should open a window. Say, that reminds me, why is everything in this town all boarded up? is there a problem?
Cerin, who had been watching the approach to the house with a sudden wariness, is last to enter. It takes him several moments of scanning the room before he even notices the woman who lets them in.
He pauses, a long moment as his eyes settle on her. And there they remain for maybe a moment too long before he walks across the room, and bows formally to her, smiling in what he hopes is a friendly manner.
"My lady, I am Cerin Etherstrom. My companions and I are here at a most urgent request for aid from the Burgomaster."
The building is about 120'x50' and what you see of the interior of the house is well furnished, although the fixtures show sign of considerable wear. Obvious oddities are the boarded-up windows and the overuse of holy symbols in every room. The Burgomaster is in a side drawing room — dead. He is lying in a room that is dark, despite the candles burning in his honor. The stench in the house is horrible.
"My name is Ireena Kolyana," the woman says, her accent similar to Ismark's, but not as thick. "Forgive the smell. No one in the village will help us bring father's body to the church to be buried." She pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts, and then tells her tale.
"For four hundred years, the county of Barovia has been ruled by the vampyr, Count Strahd Van Zarovich, but only rarely has he been seen. I know not why, but these past months he has been stirred to action. Each night, wolves and other, terrible things would come out of the forest and attacked this house. The strain was too much for my father, and his heart gave out nine days ago. Since then, the wolves have not come, but there is this." She looks to Ismark, and then pulls the collar of her dress down to show the mark of fangs on her neck.
Her brother continues, his tone shockingly angry after her calm. "The night he died, father's Holy Symbol was stolen. It was our best protection against the devil, Strahd. Now, as you can see, we are helpless to defend ourselves. It's been almost two weeks since father sent the letter. The rest of the village has given Ireena up for dead."
"The Count has bled the people for centuries, of gold as well as blood. We have little to reward you with but our thanks, but we have no choice but to beg for your help. Will you stop him?" Ireena finishes.
Kneeling, Morgan says "I can not speak for the others, but I will give my life to free your people from the monster that is ruling their lives. I shall not rest until he is destroyed. Where can I find his castle?"
Upon entering the house Wintermoon follows Ireena straight to the body.
"This is beyond my magicks," he says as he investigates the body.
When Ireena exposes her neck wound, "So the source of your affliction is this Strahd. How far is the church from here?"
Vampires give me the heebee geebees. But if we all stick together, maybe we can bring this guy down, permanently. Maybe we should bury their father in the church graveyard, before we do anything else.
Cerin grows increasingly still, and visibly agitated as Ireena's story goes on. After she finishes, he stands, processing the tale as best he can.
"Jake has the right of it. We must see that the Burgomaster is put to rest."
Cerin gazes at the poor woman for a long moment, then crosses the room to her and her brother. He then draws his blade and kneels, holding it up in both hands.
"I pledge my blade and my blood to your service." He flicks his thumb over the point of his sword, and bright red blood wells there. "If by my life or my death I can serve you, then so be it."