“Yes. Sleeping. Now, I pose my precious question.”

Thalia sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Nope. Glad this conversation was unproductive for us both!" She steps away and out of the shop, frustrated. She had her daggers and her fists, which granted were plenty for dealing with other people, but something in the pit of her gut sent out alarm bells. There would be more to worry about than random, overly friendly men. No, there was a vampire lurking around this area. What else? Witches and werewolves?

She took a deep breath outside of Bildrath's and considered her options. Maybe she should talk to Ismark again. She had no leads outside of him, and he seemed friendly enough. The way he looked made her feel very sad. It was like seeing a sad puppy being yelled at. Thalia was not the kind of person who wouldn't go pet the poor puppy. She resolved herself to go talk to Ismark once again and walked in the direction of his home.

The broken bell once again clatters as Thalia exits, and makes her way through the slick streets of Barovia. The few people she spots walking in the street move hurriedly, and Thalia can't tell if it's because of her or something else. She spots some fearful faces in the windows, but they turn away when she looks upon them. At last, she reaches the gates of Ismark's mansion. While the rest of the place is old and worn, clearly many decades, maybe even centuries old, the gate looks at least several decades younger than everything else. It isn't doing much good, however, since it swings open in the wind, lazily flapping back and forth. Out in front of the mansion, the ground looks like a jungle. Grasping weeds twist and strangle each other, reaching towards the few life-giving rays of sunlight that shine through the gloomy clouds above during the day, but inevitably being dragged down to the darkness by their neighbors.

The house itself looks weary, leaning to the side as if the weight of the oppressive gloom is pushing it down. That or it's just not very well built. It is covered with the signs of neglect and slipshod repairs. There are very few windows left, most having been boarded up or left open and exposed, and the walls are covered with all sorts of marks and discolorations. A spot of creeping mold here, some sick-looking ivy there, some faded spots of blackish-grey that look like they may be ancient burn marks, as well as some old grooves carved into the wood that couldn't be from typical wear and tear. 

The door is unlocked, and the house has the same feeling as Bildrath's. The feeling of a place far too large for its owner. A space that is meant to be shared, but when emptied of all occupants save one, becomes that much more lonely. There are no lights, but the faint moonlight through the broken windows shows a house in significant disrepair. A faint orange glow oozes from a room on the second floor, from around a corner. Presumably, this is where Ismark dwells.

Thalia takes a step into Ismark's home, a bit unnerved at the unlocked door. Suddenly, she worries that he is not well since the door is unlocked. She calls out to him, stepping further into the home, "Ismark? Hello?" 

If he doesn't respond, she will carefully step up the stairs to his room. She has an itchy hand hovering over her dagger sheath while she looks about nervously. What if the vampire he mentioned broke into the home? 

A voice echoes through the halls, identifiable as Ismark's. "Hello? Thalia? Come in, watch your step on the stairs." 

The stairs, as Ismark implied, are certainly not up to any code in any part of the world. Even though Ismark must traverse them often, Thalia can't help but feel as if each board is going to snap under her feet as she steps on it. She rounds the corner, and comes across what looks to be a study. Old, dusty books lurk in a glass bookcase on the far wall, while a taxidermized wolf's head watches over Ismark as he sits at a desk, reading. The room is lit by a flickering candle, which has burnt down to almost nothing and now lies in a puddle of its own congealed wax. Ismark shuts the book in a cloud of dust, and turns to Thalia. He is not smiling, but Thalia gets the idea that he would be, were he not untrained in the skill.

"Hello, Thalia. What brings you to my home? Have you decided what you're going to do next?"

Thalia looks around the room, studying the wolf's head in particular. "At this point, I am considering cleaning up your house. Do you have some hammer and nails? Your stairs... they need a bit of care, you know. If you aren't careful, one day your entire foot will break one and you could fall to your doom." Thalia lectures this man 20 years her senior, but it feels pretty natural to do so.

She steps closer to Ismark, reaching a friendly but respectful conversation distance. "You know... you seem a bit miserable. Is life in this village really so awful? I met Bildrath earlier... frankly, if that's the only store in town, I feel sorry for everyone here."

"If I fall, I fall. What does it really matter? He hasn't come for me in all these years, so if the fate I suffer is brought on by myself, then so be it." Ismark pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking like that, it's not befitting of a burgomaster. Bildrath's not all that bad. He used to be much worse, he'd sell shit and charge you like it's gold. But age has softened him. That, and his nephew's death, I think that was what finally broke him. Poor man, he's a mean sort, but at least he only charges like his shit is silver now. I'm not quite sure who will take over for him when he finally passes. His nephew was the only family he had left."

"..." Thalia stayed quiet for a moment. Bildrath seemed so dreadful, and she found it incredibly easy to dislike him. Still, anyone who lost their only family... Thalia grabbed her arm and clutched it hard, a tactic she uses time to time when the tears actually threaten to appear. That gut punch reminded her of her own predicament. She only had her father who was still back at home. She needed to get out of here and go back to him as soon as possible. "Listen, Ismark. I know we barely know each other, but... I don't have anyone here. I really need to go home... where my father is. If it's possible at all... could you help me? I just have a feeling that if I try to go alone... I probably won't ever see my father again." Thalia avoids Ismark's  gaze, ready for rejection. She found it difficult to ask for help, it wasn't one of her strengths. But she could almost feel a tug in his direction. He seemed like someone safe. 

"It depends. What sort of help are you looking for?" Ismark's face looks as if he knows what Thalia is going to ask, but does not want to directly state it.

"I need your help... trying to get out of here." Thalia winces at her own words. She didn't feel comfortable letting him know his previous advice has totally fallen on deaf ear's AND that she hopes he will assist her in continuing to ignore his words, but she had very few options. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but... I really think you are the only person I can reasonably trust."

"...What do you want? I will help you, to the best of my ability. My resources, however, are... limited. I doubt that I have anything that could aid you significantly. If you want to survive out there, you need more than just yourself and some gear."

"That's... what I'm asking you. I need more than myself and what little I have. I need a helping hand out there... Yours?" Thalia shifts her weight from one foot to the other a bit nervously. "Could you come with me? I mean, out of here. Out of Barovia, not just the house."

“Out… of Barovia? Me? I… no. No- no, I can’t- I can’t leave the town, I have responsibilities, I need to keep my people in order, I can’t just… leave?” Ismark begins to stand, then stops, sinks back down. “I- it’s been a… a very long time. Since- since I really… got… out. Years. More than years. It’s not like I could just… get up, waltz out. I mean, it’s…” Ismark stops, takes a deep breath.

”There’s something I need you to get for me. At the church. The graveyard. I had it buried with her. To keep her safe.” A long pause, and then: “I don’t think she needs it anymore. I can’t do it myself. Will you do me this favor?”

Thalia steps a foot closer, suddenly overcome with an urge to calm Ismark down. She stops herself short, knowing that she wouldn't like a stranger trying to touch her while she was down. Instead, she patiently waits him out and listens to his plea. Nodding to his request, Thalia asks, "If I do this... will you consider joining me? Where is the church?"

“Up the hill. It’s pretty distinct. Do this and… maybe. I don’t know. All I know is, it’s certainly not happening unless the item is retrieved.”

"Understood... thank you." Thalia nods an acknowledgement to Ismark. Something about him was familiar she thought as she left his home. She looked around on the streets and began to follow whichever one seemed to incline the most, keeping her eye out for any church-like structures. Ismark reminded her somewhat of her father in that 'I look mean, but I'm a big teddy bear' sort of way. Thalia smiled to herself at the memories of father. Mr. Fox always treated Thalia with care. She looked forward to being reunited with him sooner than later.

First, the church!

Thalia finds the church easily enough, by simply looking for the point of highest elevation in the village. Upon the hilltop in the north end of the village there rests a tall, unsurprisingly decrepit building. Thalia encounters no issues as she moves from street to street, save for a single event. As she is passing a house, unremarkable like the rest, an almost bestial growl emerges from behind the closed door, combined with a slow scratching sound. The sound fades into the distance as she climbs the hill, and arrives at the front of the church. Here, above the creeping mists, above the walls of Barovia, Thalia finally gets a full view of where she is.

The town is surrounded by a great forest of dull green coniferous trees, their needles so dark they are almost black. The town is built on the northwest side of a large clearing in the forest, and about a mile to the south Thalia can see a river cutting through it from west to east. The river disappears into the dark woods, and is devoured along with a small dirt road that runs from the east, up to Barovia, then south across the river and into the woods. Patches of mist drag themselves through the trees like wounded animals, and the moon shines above like a great cloudy eye. Northwest of Barovia, towering over the town, Thalia sees a great castle, silhouetted in the moonlight. Moonbeams shine off of its dark spires, and Thalia can physically feel the evil that radiates off of it. Like something is watching.

But Thalia has a job to be doing, and there isn't time for sightseeing. Well, maybe there is, but that's neither here nor there. Approaching the church, she can see that it has very clearly been a victim of the assaults of evil for many years. It is in a similar condition to the Burgomaster's mansion, with burn and scratch marks all across the door and walls. Around the side of the church there is a wrought iron fence with a gate. Behind it, Thalia can see a square patch of land where tightly packed gravestones lie, many of them so old as to make their names illegible.

Passing by the growling house Thalia can only think, Okay, this place has serious problems... but I really don't want to deal with any of them. When she finally climbs the hill to the church and looks back to survey the village, she is taken in by its almost dark beauty. Were it not for the evil castle and what seemed to be the general malaise which hung over everything, this village would be quaint and cute. Instead, something about it disturbed her to the core. As she peered up at the castle, the fear it peered back caused her to take a single step away from it, recoiling. She knew it was only a paranoid feeling, but it was strange how the evil of that place seemed almost visible to the naked eye.

Thalia gulped as she looked over the door. If monsters were willing to attack a church... this place seemed incredibly cursed. After some quiet deliberation, Thalia raps on the door softly at first, but decidedly louder the next time as her resolve returns.

There is no response.

Thalia takes a deep breath and steels her will... then opens one of the heavy doors.