The chain is old and rusted, but still serviceable.  The crate, though solid, is merely made of wood, and a few solid strikes cracks and breaks the wood.  Ed takes care not to stab the creature within, and manages to free the creature imprisoned within.  It is a bearded, squat fellow, dirty and dehydrated.

(Lord_Sheep, feel free to introduce yourself!)

Alessandra lowered her hand, raised in preparation for throwing a spell. "Not a dog, I take it." The previous monologue from the crate kind of gave it away but like Ed said, Barovia teaches not to trust first guesses and impressions. "Good day... sir." Even if the title was slightly off, manners was all that was left to the group in this place. "Forgive us the caution and uncharitable speculations about your nature. Your country is not the most friendly one, we learned it the hard way." She paused for a moment and added just with a slight change of tone indicating a question. "If this is indeed your country?" The man looked like a dwarf, yet, until now barring the obvious monsters, they saw only humans in these lands.

Regmir tumbles out of the crate, catching himself before falling flat onto the ground, and and brushes himself off. He tugs his tunic to straighten out the wrinkles and pulls his hood slightly over his brow to keep out the cold. He brings up a hairy forearm to wipe some spittle from the corners of his lips and instinctively reaches towards his front pocket for a cigar only to realize none were present. "...Orc piss..." he mutters under his breath before blinking a few times and coughs to clear his throat.

To Alessandra's greetings, he dips his head in a slight bow while tugging on his cowl, "M'lady." As she expresses her question of whether he comes from this place, he turns and spits the phlegm he had cleared earlier to one side, "'Ehh.. Not quite.T'be frank, I don't really recognize any of these parts since leaving S'comber. Woods 'nd land feels different 'nd all." 

He looks up at each individual with intense, bloodshot eyes, and after seeing each person in turn, his expression turns to one of realization and surprise.

"Oy, you all mus' be t'lot outta Daggerford, eh? well, that makes t'ings easier I reckon." He coughs one more time and puts on a wide grin, "T'name's Regmiir Bruberock, and I'm 'ere t'rescue you."

"Given the reference to where we whence came... Probably not a monster in disguise.  Rescue us? Pray tell, how long have we been "missed" for a rescue to have been mounted?" Zied still finds it off, but given the statements of the world beyond, at the least this one seems not barovian in nature. Still, even if it was sent by the lord, they were probably friendly.

"By whom?!"

Being an adventurers group (meaning, one a high alert and expected to move at any second) they could be missing for days before anyone would begin to ask questions. Yet again, they were sent by the  Duchess Morwen to investigate the troublemakers and never returned. Most likely, the Vistani they were visiting, were gone as well before morning. Still, it was nice to learn their disappearance was noted. Probably, families were informed as well.

"I mean, thank you for the good news, and yes, we are the group from Daggerfall, unless there were more missing by now. Also true, that we are in need of help but... I'm afraid you walked into the same trap we did and might be stuck here too. How did you manage to get here and..." She did not finish the sentence, just pointed at the broken crate.

Ed claps the fellow firmly on the shoulder, "Hah, a rescue party of one that needed to be rescued from a box? Nevermind lad, we all encounter setbacks in our best endeavours. though if you have a plan to get out of this place I'd be more than happy to hear it. Wouldn't be much of a rescue attempt if you didn't have that way back worked out eh?" His tone is merry, thought there is a definite humerous undertone that might be directed more at this newcomer's ineptitude than his predicament. 

To Zied and Alessandra asking about their disappearance: "Yeh, word travels fast in t'realm, 'specially when its for noble types like yerselves.. I 'ad 'eard reports of yer disappearance a caravan passin' through town. Based on t'word I 'eard, sounds like you lot 'ave been gone for a few days."

To Alessandra about the mists and the crate: "Ehh, not so sure wha' you mean about trap. B'fore I 'nded up 'ere, I 'ad met a traveller by t'name of Stanimir. Fortunately, Stan seemed t'know where you all 'ad gone off to and pointed me toward t'mists. So I thanked 'im kindly, finished m'cup, 'opped on in, and 'nded up 'ere, wherever 'ere is. As for t'crate, let's say I met some of t'locals." You notice Regmiir grimace ever so slightly, and for a split second, he looks wracked with some sort of deep emotional pain from some previous event, "Ehh, I would say it didn't go well, 'cept it seemed t'lead me right t'you lot, so I guess I still got luck on m'side."

To Ed, you notice Regmiir's eyes narrow at the lad comment for but a moment as he responds to the inquiry about a plan, "Oy, f'being such a wise guy, t'ats what I should be asking you. You lot 'ave been down here for well over 'alf a week and still 'aven't managed t'get on out. So let me offer teh my 'umble assessment, it's not a plan yeh need, it's a prod. T'longer we spend here doing more of t'debating 'nd less of t'doing, t'longer we're going t'be stuck'n this 'ole."

Regmiir assesses the crew and turns to Alessandra, speaking in a tone of reverance for a perceived leadership, "M'lady, where we off to 'nd  what can I do t'help?"

Ed looks to the others at the mention of Stanimir, "Stanimir... He was a nice fellow but a deceiver. Madam Eva was not the beacon of guidance we had hoped."

Ed chuckles at the dwarf's retort, "I am as wise as Lathander sees fit for me to be. Unfortunately he sees less than normal is this mist ridden land." Glancing around at the mists and the lack of any visible sun, a scene which was all too common now, Ed's smile thins slightly before he continues, "As for our escape.... This place is like quicksand, it catches you unawares and your efforts to escape slowly drag you irrevocably deeper in. Should you wish to dive in and give us a 'prod' from the depths, then I'll happily use your shoulders as a stepping stool." He winks at the short of stature Regmiir, "I might even try to pull you out after."

Should she know about it, Alessa would be deeply flattered to be taken for a leader. For now, though, she just answered the question that could not be answered in any positive way, sadly. "Thank you for your effort, Regmiir." (They would not leave the man behind, of course, and were about to travel together, so, formalities could be spared.) "But I am afraid it is as Ed explained. We are trapped in this strange... Not sure how to call it - lands? Plane? Dimension? I would love to say "welcome to Barovia" but it sounds like mocking. Seems like we all got here thanks to that "nice fellow Stanimir" who is the only one that can bring us back but did not bother to come himself. He... sort of set us on the quest. We managed to get to the very beginning of it and find the person who could clarify the tasks ahead, but the tasks are more of riddles than clear directions. Right now we are on the way to the town of Vallaki where we hope to find some clues. Though... you said you met locals already. Let's just say we do not expect much."

The explanation turned out to be a bit long-winded. Alessa smiled and shook her head. "I mean to say, we do not know the way out, but would welcome any help and will be glad to have you with us."

Regmiir stares at Ed with a steely gaze and blinks twice. He gives a resigned sigh and responds, "Ehh.. Suit yerself." Reg had seen plenty of people in his travels, and while he did not specifically avoid dealing with nobles, he also did not actively seek out opportunities to lend them a hand. It always seemed to end the same way: too wordy and never worth the trouble.  Regardless, fate seemed to have led him to this fortuitous meeting and he knows far better than to question the circumstances that The Smiling Lady has place before him. He reached deep into the hidden pocket sewn into his tunic and rubs his silver coin between his calloused fingers, feelings its warmth and smoothed surface.

Listening to Alessa's response, he let out a small grin. His instinct seemed to prove true again in pinning her as the leader of this band. Reg mused to himself: Despite the Drow being a bunch of cave dwelling web-lickers, they at least understood who really runs the show in society. He responds as she finishes her explanation, "Sounds good, m'lady. It'd be my honor to join yeh and yeh crew." He paused, "Oy, I don't suppose yeh have seen my gear?" Hell, at this point, he'd settle for even just a single one of his cigars he had packed, made fresh with tobaccos from the latest harvest in Secomber.

"And by t'way, before we go t'Vallaki, there's something I need t'do." 

Sezsu watches and listens silently. One eyebrow cocked. As Regmiir turns to look around the windmill, he sniffs quietly and turns to his companions, eyes going wide with pantomimed gestures motioning after the dwarf as if to say "And you're all ok with this??"

After a brief eyeroll that didn't wait for a response, he awkwardly stares at the man as he inspects the dilapidated structure.

"So, uh... Regimere, was it? Reggie. I don't think we've actually introduced ourselves yet. Not sure if you got more than 'the lot outta Daggerford' before getting yourself shanghaied, but my name is Sezsu." He continues, gesturing to each in turn. "Holy Knight Edlanar of the Holy Rollers... Alessandra, Our Lady of Soliloquy... and Zied the Strange."

Crossing his arms and focusing back on the newcomer, the young cleric's head tilts slightly to one side.

"Where exactly did you say you were from again?"

Sezsu did not have to wait long, Alessandra nodded firmly, confirming the decision. Regmiir was obviously not from around here - the sick look of locals would be hard to hide, not to mention the race. And to be left here alone was the fate she would not wish on her enemy. The dwarf was coming with the group. To placate last doubts she added a practical reason too (quietly). "If you suspect him, that's the more reason to keep man close and on the view, is not it?"

"Don't mind Sezsu's ... glibness." She raised her voice so Regmiir could hear. "Right now he could assume the title of "the Irksome". He was expecting - however seriously - to find welcoming women here. I am afraid the disappointment combined with previous trying events was a bit too much." 

Alessa smiled a faint smile, indicating a joke and added. "We found ourselves in Barovia also without any gear, had to get by. But I suppose you might be luckier and yours is inside the mill? There are a few windows there. They are so dirty you can not look inside, but maybe opening them will be easier than the door."

Sezsu facepalms.

"Look. I was told there would be women here at the mill and all we found was a grumpy, smelly dwarf... No offence, Reggie... I'm in the prime of my youth over here!"

He sighs and lets his arms fall to his sides and motions to the newly unboxed fellow.

"For all we know this guy could be an assassin sent by the villain Stanimir since his efforts to have us killed by the locals have been thus far thwarted! You don't know!"

To Alessa, he quietly murmurs something in Elvish. Lowering his voice but remaining awkwardly audible.

Regmiir lets Sezsu complete his performance in full, though he visibly turns a shade paler when Alessa mentions returning to check inside the windmill. As the questioning wraps up, Reg produces a deep chuckle, "Says-you," It's hard to tell whether he intentionally mispronounced the name or if the inflection of it is difficult to achieve on dwarven tongues, "If yeh or anyone else 'ere really believe me t'be an assassin, then telling me t'names and yeh intentions would 'ave been a rather tactical error, eh?"

His face turns serious and he drops his grin and turns to them both, "Yeh may be right about my gear being in t'windmill. Yeh may also be right about finding t'women 'ere, but they were none too welcoming. T'locals I spoke of, when I first arrived..." he gestures all about, "'Ere. Well, it was these two biddies, but they weren't just ordinary ladies, mind yeh. As soon as they welcomed me into t'windmill did I see what they 'ad done before they 'ad managed to knock me out 'nd put me in t'box."

You see Regmiir's fists ball up as he thinks carefully on how to say what happens next. He then proceeds slowly through gritted teeth, making sure each word could be heard clearly despite being spoke through clenched jaws, "They... were... killing... young'uns..."

Though his hood hides his eyes well, a corona of intense emotion and anguish flashes for a brief moment in the pale light of day. He pauses, then continues in a tone absent of his previous levity, "So, if yeh would be so kind as t'pardon my grumpy mood and pass me somethin' dangerous before we 'ead up to t'windmill," He glances about the weapons at the sides of the troupe before looking up with his face full of cold determination, "I'd gladly appreciate it."

Ed lets the conversation move on, he eyes the dwarf and nods as Regmiir points out how Sezsu has contradicted himself. After the dwarf's comments about the women here putting him in a box, Ed interrupts. "Our cleric here is a stalwart companion, he has little trust in him though, and it sounds like you have already found out that in this land trust is not something readily given. Too many things are not what they seem. If sounds like you have had your first taste of that though..." Indicating the remains of the crate that formerly housed Regmiir, "What made you think them not to be normal old ladies?"

"They were what?!" Ed's jovial attitude disappears in an instant, replaced by scarcely contained anger. Looking at the others as he strides towards the door he speaks in a calm fury, "Someone get this man a weapon!" His own sword still drawn, Ed approaches the door and tries to open it.

"Wouldn't be a 'tactical error' if we just killed you, would it?" Sezsu mumbles as he kicks a small rock by his feet.

At the mention of murdering children, his scowl intensifies and his jaw clenches as his focus shifts to the rickety mill.

Wordlessly reaching into Zied's pack, he withdraws the warhammer and tosses it to Regmiir. "This doesn't mean I trust you. I just don't want some frail old crone killing you before I can determine whether you're trustworthy or not."

Stepping toward the door, Sezsu tries the handle.

Not being bothered by the shuffle through his bag, having zoned out thinking about something very specific while looking up at the windmill. 

"The short stack ration from the box stays in front of Sezu, near Ed. Alessa next. I'll watch the back." zied states before Seszu tries the doorway.

Ed's reaction echoed Alessa's, but there was something, she had to say before barging in. "Wait. I am not saying we should not go in, but the description... And ... Do you remember Granny mentioned she had two daughters, who live and work in the old windmill? And how her pies seem to be magical? What I mean is," Alessandra was clearly agitated on the subject and was not sure how to say it all. "there is a chance... more than just a chance, that the women inside are hags. Which makes sweet Granny a hag too but mostly it means, we can die in there quite fast and very unpleasantly. You can have my crossbow,  Regmiir, and I can make you just a little bit more protected with the magic. But that might be not enough, we are against very powerful ruthless beings here."

Should Regmiir agree, she will give Mage Armor "I truly wish to be mistaken, but if I am not, we better be ready for a deadly fight."

Ed turns to Alessa, his eyes afire, "If Regmiir is telling us the truth then I shall not stand by. I know little about 'hags' so if you have something useful to say then now is the time but be quick about it. Otherwise danger be damned Alessa, these beings will be brought low." Ed then turns to stare straight at Regmiir, his cold rage has made the paladin's formerly mild persona seem to swell, and a far more imposing figure looks deep into the dwarves eyes, "If you are steering us astray, I swear that as surely as dawn comes, you will regret your decision."

"Of course, you do know," calmly (even if from the scare) parried Alessa Ed's rage, "if only from the fairytales but you do. I never faced a hag, but I read about them ... a lot. What we can expect is curses and charms, which alone should be enough for most mortals. Also, lies, shapeshifting, and illusions. Many books said hags like to bargain. Mostly to outwit the victim and give less or nothing and turned the wish of the victim against them. Hope it helps."