As you step out of the church, Father Donavich calls out, cupping his hand to be heard over Doru’s screams.  “Did you tell them of the night spirits, Ismark?  We don’t want to frighten them.”

Ismark walks with you as you head south back toward the burgomaster’s mansion.  His pace is quicker now, and there is an urgency in his demeanor.  

“As I said.  I do not know what I would have done in Father Donavich’s situation.  It is a terrible thing.”

The road is empty, and many homes are shut tight, with soft lamplight spilling out into the darkening street.  Other buildings are dark, and some appear abandoned, their dilapidated frames dressed in boarded-up windows and sagging roofs.  Over your shoulder you can spy Strahd’s castle, perched on the edge of the high cliff overlooking Barovia.

“About the spirits,” Ismark explains, “each night at midnight, spirits of those buried in our graveyard, victims of Strahd, rise up from their graves and march down the western road and then up toward the castle.  Castle Ravenloft, it is called.  What happens when they reach it, I do not know, but every night their march is repeated.”

Answering any other questions you have, as he is able, Ismark leads you back into his home. The interior of the mansion is well furnished, yet the fixtures show signs of great wear. Noticeable oddities are the boarded-up windows and the presence of holy symbols in every room.

“Now, make yourselves comfortable. I believe I promised you payment.”  Ismark disappears into the gloomy home, reappearing a minute later with a small cloth pouch.  “Here is your payment.  Ten gold coins.  There being four of you, that would be two gold and one electrum piece each, yes?”  The gold coins are stamped on one side with a nobleman’s profile, and on the other is a castle perched upon a stone cliff.  The electrum piece is stamped on one side with a noble lady’s profile, and on the other with a raven.

“There are beds and couches enough for all of us to be comfortable.  A room for each of you, if you prefer, or you can share accommodations.”  Ismark walks you through the home, checking on the doors and many windows throughout.  “Nothing has attacked the house since father passed, but it is better to be safe, yes?”

"That's most gracious of you, friend Ismark," Sezsu says as he takes the purse. "Normally we'd refuse payment for such a simple and charitable act but, things being as they are, we've found ourselves without many of our belongings and this could go a long way toward replacing those lost items."

Looking to the rest of the group, he continues. "If it's all the same, I'd prefer my privacy when it can be found. But before settling in, I think there are some things we should discuss." He glances back to Ismark. "Begging your pardon, but there are some few matters that our group must hold in confidence."

"Then it is doubly important that you accept, not only because you have done me such a kind service, but also because if your misfortune in losing your belongings.  And for me, it is a bittersweet time.  Since I was a little boy I have heard tales of travelers from other lands, but I did not think I would ever meet any in my lifetime!  My father would have shown you such hospitality, it is the very least that I can do.  In that spirit, I will prepare for us some vegetable stew while you have your discussions."  He disappears through the doorway into the hall, moving back toward the kitchen and pantry.

(Here I will pause to give everyone time to catch up, and to roleplay a bit between yourselves.)

On the walk back, Ed makes light conversation with Ismark, enquiring as to how long the church has been falling into disrepair and why the townsfolk do nothing about it, especially considering the state of things. At the mention of the spirits, Ed's faced puts on a confused twist. "Ismark, the dead rising is an afront to the normal order of things, it is clear that this place is troubled beyond measure. Would there be any vantage point that I could see these spirits for myself? That you say they are seen departing to the castle but not returning thereafter makes me curious."

Ed checks his person for any pockets or pouch in which to place his coin, then tucks it away thanking Ismark and affirming Seszu's appraisal of their need. 

Alessandra was silent for the bigger part of the way back. It was easier this way to pretend the situation is not as dire as it is. She only glanced in surprise at Edd when he wished to actually see the parade of the dead - something that normal people will try to avoid by any means possible.

Normal... Right... Neither the group nor their occupation could be considered "normal" even back home. And here - everything was but normal. So, maybe Ed was right in his curiosity. It is better to know than to wander around blindly. "I would accompany you to this ..." "show" was not the word one could use in this situation, "to this sight. The spirits could return ... as spirits, invisible to the eyes of the mortals. And the procession itself only visible by the will of St..." locals seemed to avoid mentioning the name without necessity, "by the devil, to keep everyone terrified or force them to stay in the houses. It can also be an illusion. Maybe we even will be able to tell."

Yes, talking about these things as if it was just the next task on their list felt better. She entered Ismark's house if not calmed then at least ready to fight back whatever misfortune was about to be thrown at the group.

"I wish we have met in better circumstances, Ismark" sighed Alessa meaning both the funeral and the unfortunate fate that brought the group here. "Thank you for your hospitality. If we can help anyhow, please, just let us know." She too chose a room - close to the others, privacy was very welcomed but caution - essential. "We can talk now, Sezsu, while our kind host is taking care of supper. You think we need to set up watch?"

Once they are comfortably nestled in a room upstairs, Sezsu responds to Alessa.

"Keeping watch is always a good idea, even in friendlier territory." He nods as he looks around, taking note of each door, window, and crack between floorboards and in plaster. "What I really think is that we should do Father Donavich the kindness of putting whatever his son's become out of its misery." The young cleric meets each person's eyes before continuing. "He's a good man with a pure heart, as I'm certain his son once was as well, but he's holding on to a hopeless dream that will never come to pass and only drawing out the torment of them both. Monsters like that are an affront to all that he believes but he'll never do it himself and certainly would never ask someone else to... But it needs to be done."

He crosses his arms and waits for a response as he watches everyone's expressions as they process his words.

"What?! Absolutely not!" It was way too emotional and very doubtfully helpful. Alessa took a deep breath and tried to talk rationally. "Sezsu, this will be a murder. Coldblooded murder, nothing else. We are new to this place, we have no right to decide who lives and who dies. Whatever happened with the boy, only his father and maybe the villagers can decide his fate, not strangers." It was still more emotions than reason and she tried again. "This is a crime, plain and simple. Something that goes against any law there is and very evil. You do not fight cruelty with more cruelty, it will only add up! You hurt others and you hurt yourself. Every deed leaves a mark on the soul - you should know it better than any of us! Every unjust act stains your soul, steals a piece of it until you have nothing left. In a place like this, it can be even more important than home."

Alessa gave up on the attempts of reasonable explanations and ended up with a simple "I am against that idea."

Sezsu's eye squeeze shut and his face scrunches up under the expected rebuttal before continuing in a soft, measured voice.

"Your points are all valid and well made but I think you're missing one key detail." He points in the general direction of the church. "That is not the priest's son nor is it one of the humble village folk who cower in their homes night after night. It once was all of those things and protected by laws and decency and moral obligations, but no longer. Now it's what causes them to hide. How do you think the creature's appetites were discovered in the first place? How many unsuspecting locals do you think fell to its depravity before it was captured and confined, to be sustained only by the the evil magics that raised it in the first place. You heard its wails. There's no telling how long what-was-once-Doru has been living in captivity, starving and suffering and unable to die. The priest himself said it was turned years ago. Ending it is the only just act. For its own good. For the town's own good. For Father Donavich's own good, as I'm sure he'll eventually see."

His relatively small frame heaves a huge sigh.

"You probably didn't sense it in there. But that... thing... whatever you want to call it... is evil given form. If it weren't spawned from the carcass of his own son, Donavich would see that. For all we know he does see it but can't get past the familiar mask it wears. But make no mistake, while their blood is already cold, the undead can't be 'murdered.'"

Zied too remained primarily quiet as time went on.  Still wary of this village-and the obvious attention they gathered with their arrival, and shortly thereafter a proccession for a funeral that no one in the town was willing to be involved with.   Upon the mention of spirits Zied just calmly states. "If something happens often enough, it is normal. Dying and undying is relative. However, undying and spreading undeath is a problem. These spirits. Are they not unlike the creatures that brought forth your father's fate? Do tell-were they there the night it happened?"   Zied has lived longer than he appears, and has untold experience with the oddity of undying.  However he refrains from sharing such a point of view.  After all this land is clearly skewed.

"I sleep lightly, I'm fine with staying down here.  I dare say I hold the worry that the funeral proccession may have gathered attention.  If those who did it preferred he remain-to soak the town in further fear, they may come calling as to the situation.  Here; or mayhap at the church. Although I would assume not there, if they care not for a potential vampire's fate there."

--------------------------------

In the secretive conversations; "If it comes to it, I've no qualms with killing something-If it is attempting to kill us. If its locked up, remains locked up by the town's judgement. I see it no different than a murderous bandit who remains locked up until death.  In this case, a vampire locked up until his father sets to changing that in some fashion.  Sezsu-If it offends and degrades your sensabilities. Tomorrow we could simply offer to take care of the deed to the 'Father' after funeral rights are settled.  We are guests in a hostile realm. I'll not freely invade upon their ire."

That was not exactly the support Alessa hoped for, but good enough to exhale in relief. She nodded to Zied's words. "I am no executioner and would not be the one offering a father help in killing his child. But if you feel you can handle it, I will not stay on your way." As calmly as she could, Alessa added only few words to underline her point. "Everything you say, Sezsu, is just an assumption. How much do you know of the vampires to judge surely? If Doru is a vampire too, from the looks of his father, he is the one sharing blood with him, not villagers. Or maybe Doru is more than a mindless hunger in a flesh and even agreed to be contained and hopes to perish from hunger? We can not afford hasty decisions, or to be judgemental to begin with." She looked at Ed, hoping his words will be closer to her and Zeid's view.

Ed's ever-present good demeanour sours slightly as his companions discuss Sezsu's proposal, he was not used to the fineries and forensics of whether an act was good or evil. He was led by his conscience, guided and honed by the teachings of his god. "Sezsu, I stand opposed to evil as resolute as any that make that claim. I trust in your judgement that Doru is indeed no longer the same entity that these good folk remember him to be." Ed holds up a hand towards Alessa and Zied suppressing their expected arguement. "Should that alone be enough to condemn the boy to the ground though? The people of this town do not rise up against Father Donavich and clamour for Doru's demise. Evil as it might be, it is contained for now. That puts us in a position of either enacting your plan by brute force against the will of these good people, or deceit. Neither sit well with me."

Ed shakes his head at the complexity of the situation, "Let us talk more with the Father on the morrow. If he can be convinced of your arguments, then I shall aid in putting down the creature that Doru has become. Alessa is right that we need to know more about this, ever do the politics of the church weigh on our ability to do good and here too a light step seems prudent."

 It was well said and it was wise. Alessa smiled a bit easier and tried - not to change the subject, but to stir it a bit in a more theoretical way. "That raises another question. One maybe better discussed with our host present. What do we actually know about vampires?"

Rolls:

"The only thing I'm certain of," Sezsu replies with a hint of melancholy resignation in his voice, "is that the boy is gone and the longer the monster is kept around, the greater the threat that one of the many points of potential failure in his confinement will do just that and unleash him onto the town once more. Vampirism is not simply an unfortunate ailment to be tended. Not just a plague on the corporeal, it's a curse and an offense to all things good and holy."

He straightens again and looks you in the eye once more.

"But at the end of the day, it is your safety that I'm concerned with. If you think it is in our best interest to keep such a dangerous creature alive and in such close proximity, I'll acquiesce to the will of the group. I think it's both foolish and dangerous and only a matter of time before it becomes a much bigger problem, but if you'd rather wait to deal with it then, I will stand with you. Always."

He sighs again, cracks the door slightly, and sniffs to see if the smell of stew is in the air.

Ed moves over to Sezsu and clasps him on the shoulder, "All of our safety. We have been welcomed and given shelter by these people, and Father Donavich is a brother in mine own church. It would be unjust of us all to spurn their gifts and repay them with blood. If your assessment is accurate, then Donavich will see the right of thing, and we can concern ourselves with bringing the creature that was Doru into the light."

Zieds response is simple and plain. "People die of others choices daily. It is a fact of the world."  Sinply shrugging. 

“...cabbage, potatoes, and beets.  Many beets.  Good crop this year.” Ismark explains the stew, smacking his lips.  The vegetables are smaller and darker in color than you might be accustomed to.  The beets in particular are such a dark shade of red that, for those with vivid imaginations, the dish takes on an alarmingly gruesome character.

“Edlanar, you asked earlier about the walking spirits.  You get a clear view of the chapel’s graveyard just up the street from here, in the square.  If you are patient, you can also see them from a distance from the front porch of the house. They walk south and turn west toward the Old Svalich Road.  They rise at midnight.  I cannot recommend following them too far, however, since they say the spirits walk to Castle Ravenloft!”

“It is no illusion,” he replies to Alessa’s earlier comment, growing quieter.  “They say these are the spirits of those who challenged the devil, but who died against him.  They rise each night in a… futile attempt to complete their quest.  If this is true I pity them, for they are locked in eternal torment.”

Ismark finishes his second bowl of stew and pushes his bowl away, patting his belly.  The candles are burning low, the fire in the greatroom’s fireplace reducing to embers.  He pours a little more wine and moves to add a dried log to the fire.  It drops heavily, sending a small explosion of sparks upward. 

You are reminded of Stanimir’s fireside tale outside the gates of Daggerford. 

Ismark turns back to you, silhouetted by the fire’s glow.

“The vampire.  With this Barovians are familiar.  We are taught from young age of the danger.  Strong, immortal.  Their eyes are dangerous, for they can hypnotize with a glance.  They control the vermin of the land; wolves, bats, and rats serve them as servants and spies.  They can even transform into such creatures as their dark hearts desire.  And their desires, they are dark.  They are creatures of pure evil and revel in the suffering of innocents.   But above all, they are driven by a relentless hunger for mortal blood.  They are not all powerful, however.  Vampires cannot enter a residence without a stated invitation from one within.  Running water burns them like acid, and direct sunlight causes them to burst into flame.”

Alessa:

Ismark yawns deeply.  "My friends.  The hour grows late." 

Quote from Ashen_Age >>

“...And their desires, they are dark.  They are creatures of pure evil and revel in the suffering of innocents.   But above all, they are driven by a relentless hunger for mortal blood...”

 

Sezsu shoots a vindicatory glance at his companions.

As contagious as yawns are, the young cleric follows suit. His jaw stretches a little further than expected before he catches himself and covers his mouth with both hands.

"That it is, that it is. I think I'll find my way to my room. Ed, Zied, Alessa... Wake me if anything interesting happens."

Ed nods sombrely, the news of the vampires and Sezsu's 'I told you so' glance give him a moment's pause before he silently reassures himself. 

"I shall bid you both a good night then. I may take my leave and rise shortly to watch this procession. If they are spirits of those who opposed this Strahd character then the enemy of mine enemy... Maybe we can learn something from them."

At some point human (and most likely non-human too) brain simply can not take in any more outside information, like an already full cup can not take more water. Alessandra was still horrified but confirmation of her worst fears could not make the feeling worse. That "numbness" was welcomed, though. Helped to stay focused.

"Can you really talk to those spirits?" It was possible, of course, but usually required quite a lot of magic involved. "Did someone ever try?" Alessa was tired like everyone else but the spirits were about to appear and if questions about vampires could wait (at least until daylight) these had to be asked now. "Do they even notice livings?"

"Ed, you sure you want to walk outside? If the spirits can be seen from here, maybe begin with watching? For now, until we know more?" She did not hope Ed will change his mind but had to try. "I will go with you," repeated she before leaving to her room. "See you at midnight." She hesitated for just one more minute. "Thank you, Ismark. There are many more questions we need to ask, but maybe after the ceremony tomorrow. Good night."

Ismark looks uncertain.  "The spirits seem to ignore all but their quest.  I have never heard of one to take notice of a living person."

And so, after what must feel like an infinitely long day, you make your way to bed.  Perhaps your mind works through the many encounters of this "day".  Attending Lady Morwen's dinner party.  Receiving Stanimir's strange request to travel to Barovia and find Madame Eva.  Becoming lost in the mist and traveling the lonely road to Barovia.  Meeting Ismark and carrying his father's coffin.  Discovering the horrible fate of Father Donavich and Doru.

Perhaps you welcome an opportunity to rest, to recover, and to gather your thoughts.

Perhaps, sleep is a welcome retreat from this hellish nightmare.