On the way to the Burogmaster's Manor, Soren briefly stops dead in his tracks, staring upward at the grey sky.  Teeth bared unconsciously as if half-snarling at something.  Something he cannot see.  Slowly, he wheels in place, face still up-turned, eyes straining.  Gradually his shoulders slump, defeated.

He trudges the rest of the way, mumbling to himself as if in a trance.  Those with Passive Perception of 12 or higher might hear:

Soren only seems to recover once they are inside the manor, seeing Ismark and the auburn-haired woman who must be Ireena.  With some trepidation, he politely accepts a the drink from Ismark, but asks before drinking it, voice still strained from what had been bothering him before:

"Ismark Kolyana.  This does not seem by itself an unreasonable request by Ireena.  To bury her father first as city-dwellers do.  What is it you fear?  That the rabid, estranged pack will come again, perhaps led by this killer Jaromir, to attack us?  That undead will rise from their graves to confront us?  That beasts or other fell creatures will fall upon us at the cemetery?  Or is it simply the delay?"

Finally, gingerly, Soren takes a sip of the 'Chacha'.

Zefla enjoys looking around the manor, such a better view than anything they had seen all day.  She watches as Ismark comes down the stairs and comments, "Ooh.. that's quite a shiner you got started there, compliments of your sister?"

She glances over at the body, but it really doesn't interest her much.  She looks a little closer at Ireena, wondering what it is going to be like traveling with her for a couple of days.  She overhears Soren grumbling and she stares at him for a moment and finally asks, "What is gone, Soren?"

She waits to hear the answer from Ismark about waiting for the burial and responds to the man, "Yes please, I would love some chacha!"

Giles smiles his most patronly smile, a comforting smile as he nods and says “Mmm hmm.  Yes, chacha, I would love some!  Let me see what I can do…”   Giles makes his way over to the figure that must be Ireena.  “My dear child.  I am so sorry for your loss.  We are here to help… and get you away to safety.  If we need to proceed with a funeral I would be glad to help administer last rites.  Tell me your worries dear child, Father Giles is here to help…”.   The picture of the pious parishioner…

Quote from kqstark >>

...She overhears Soren grumbling and she stares at him for a moment and finally asks, "What is gone, Soren?"...

Soren turns to Zefla.  It is clear he is struggling but trying to keep it together until he can ask someone to explain.  Perhaps Ismark.

His whisper is dry as a funeral drum.  "The Sun.  That is not sunlight we see outside.  It is some other source of pale ambient light coming from no particular place, present during 'the day' and gone 'at night'.  But not from the Sun, on which all of Silvanus' wild children rely."

" Makes sense there'd be no sun in the Hells.", Burr muttered, he looked around the room and raised an eyebrow at Giles.

Those of you who taste the chacha get quite a kick.  The mouthfeel is a little like vodka but that and its clear color is where its similarities end.  The nose has hints of fruit and it packs a whallop.  He pour it into tiny glass cups so you don't get very much, and even that is almost too much.

He tips his small cup to Burr before sipping it down.  "Before we are through, I may take you up on the shoveling offer."

He touches his cheek as Zefla remarks about the wound.  "I attempted to put my foot down on certain matters.  She advised me - in her own inimitable way - that she was in firm disagreement."

As Giles moves into the room to speak to Ireena, Ismark answers Soren.  "Mostly the latter.  I don't see time as our friend.  Jaromir and his ilk, they are cowards at heart.  What happened this morning was an explosion of all that pent up fear and anger, coupled with numbers that gave them the illusion of strength.  Now that its done, most of them will be in hiding.  I wouldn't be surprised if Jaromir has fled the village already."  He moves to a window and looks up at the castle looming above you all.  "No.  He's my concern.  His interest in Ireena is what started all this.  Before long, word will reach the castle of what happened here, and he or his servants will come to mete out justice.  My worry is that he will use this violence as an excuse to remove Ireena to his castle."

"And we will never see her again, I fear."

He pours himself another glass, the final drops of the decanter, and then shrugs.  "But she will have it no other way.  So we must see the old man buried."

"Which draws us into yet another problem.  Father Donavich is still the local priest of the Morninglord.  The parish and surrounding cemetery is at the north end of the village."  He walks around you, toying with his last drops of chacha before drinking it with a slight wince.  "No funerals, or any other services, have been held for some time.  It may take some doing to arrange for the ceremony she wants for our father."

"I mentioned the last group of outsiders who came through the mists - the ones who led the peasant uprising against Strahd?  Well, Father Donavich's son, Doru, got swept up in the irrational exuberance and is one of the ones who marched upon Castle Ravenloft.  We thought him slain, until some months later he came home to his father.  No one knows exactly what happened, though I imagine the boy was mistreated in the castle's dungeons.  Whatever was done to him, he came home stark raving mad.  Father Donavich keeps him  in the church but he can be heard screaming from inside at all hours.  I pity the two of them, but other villagers felt differently.  They petitioned to kill the boy, to show Strahd the village was penitent and contrite about the uprising.  In response, Father Donavich locked the doors of his church and hasn't performed a service since.  That had to have been 8... maybe 9 months ago now."

"My father had our servants bring food up to the church, both as an offering to the Morninglord and to make sure Father Donavich and Doru didn't starve, locked away alone in there."  He sighs.  "But it appears we will need to at least make an attempt to get Father Donavich to preside over the burial.  Ireena insists upon it."

Quote from Twombley >>

Giles smiles his most patronly smile, a comforting smile as he nods and says “Mmm hmm.  Yes, chacha, I would love some!  Let me see what I can do…”   Giles makes his way over to the figure that must be Ireena.  “My dear child.  I am so sorry for your loss.  We are here to help… and get you away to safety.  If we need to proceed with a funeral I would be glad to help administer last rites.  Tell me your worries dear child, Father Giles is here to help…”.   The picture of the pious parishioner…

Hearing Giles speak to Ireena, Ismark's eyes widen.  "That one is a holy man?" he asks?  He thrums his fingers on the doorway to the parlor.  "This might work out...".

He strides purposefully into the room to stand near Giles and his sister.  The woman is looking up at Giles, her eyes moist from crying.  Though seated, you can see she is taller than average and athletically built.  Where Ismark and their father shared blond hair and fair complextion, she must take after her mother... her hair is a rich auburn and her skin is noticeably darker than Ismark's, her features sharper.  Where Ismark is handsome after an earthly fashion, Ireena is beautiful in a classical, artistic way.

Before she can answer Giles, Ismark jumps in.  "Do you hear that, sister?  This is a man of divine ordination.  He is more than capable of laying father to rest, with all the proper pomp and ritual.  Our prayers have been answered."  He claps a firm hand on Giles' shoulder and squeezes.

While she had been looking at Giles in mild confusion moments before, her eyes narrow after Ismark's speech.  "Is that right?  And do you serve the Morninglord, Father Giles?  Do you know the Rite of Winter?  The Hymn of Remembrance?  Can you truly see my father laid to rest according to the traditions our homeland and his faith demand?"

Zefla looks at Soren skeptically.  "Are you sure?  I mean, how do you know it isn't the sun that is illuminating the sky?  You wouldn't be able to see it through the mist, haze, clouds whatever it blocking it from us."

Drinking from her little glass, she feels the effects immediately and finds a chair to lift herself into.  "Best I sit down for a bit, we've had quite a day."  As the group heads into where Ireena is, she sighs and gets down to follow.  She hangs back at the doorway to the room though, not sure what is going on with all these rituals the woman is talking about.

She finally leans over to Burr and Soren, "Do you think Giles has any idea what that woman is talking about?  I would imagine it would be totally different than what he knows from back home?  My money is on the fact we are still trudging up to see Father hermit up in the North edge of the village."

Quote from kqstark >>

Zefla looks at Soren skeptically.  "Are you sure?  I mean, how do you know it isn't the sun that is illuminating the sky?  You wouldn't be able to see it through the mist, haze, clouds whatever it blocking it from us."

Soren shakes his head and growls, almost to himself, "no.  It fooled me at first.  I was frightened when we came through the mists, escaping the werewolves.  Something seemed off.  But now that it is mid-day, I saw it plain.  I have spent a lifetime outdoors.  I know how the Sun looks in the sky even when behind clouds, at every angle.  The uneven illumination.  I know how trees, given room, broaden their branches and leaves to drink as much of the sunlight as they can, even through the clouds.  None of that happens here.  The light is pale and uniform, and the land and trees are thin and sickly."

He cocks his head.  Quietly he wonders,  "Speaking of the Sun, is the Morninglord to which Ireena refers the one from our world?  Lath- ah..., Lathander?  Or the other one perhaps, Amauna- Ama... gah!  Well, the other one?"  In truth, Soren only truly knows of Silvanus and his mother's deity, Tymora.  He knows very little of Lathander or Amaunator or any of the others.  He looks a little sheepish at his own ignorance.

Soren's voice drops to a whisper, only for Zefla and Burr.  "I think Giles is a priest of Tymora, who..."  Who might not be a deity Ireena will be satisfied with.  The goddess of fortune and trickery?  Perhaps the not-Father can find a way past this thicket...

He whispers a prayer to his own god, Silvanus, seeking Guidance for Giles as he steps forward and lays a hand on the cleric's shoulder.

Burr rubs his temples slowly.....

Giles says “My child, the Morninglord?  Lathander?  Ah, yes.  I *ahem* know of him.  My power comes from Tymora, personally, but I a man of the cloth who is traveled and versed in such rituals as to handle last rites, I can set him to rest, with all appropriate ceremonies and so forth, the Rite of Remembering and the Hymn of Winter, *cough*,  Ismark and I can handle all of the final details, but the most important part is to get you to safety my dear, isn’t that right?”  Giles stands before the makeshift coffin and arches his hands in an arc like the sun rising, bursting up from the horizon, arching high in the sky…

Deception :  23 + guidance : 2 

Burr raised an eyebrow impressed with Giles gift of the gab.

Soren's eyes widen.  He at least completely believes Giles, and he watches, rapt like a child, as the priest makes the gesture of the sun rising.

Maybe one day, we can bring the Sun back to this land after all...

Ireena listens to Giles words.  She looks at him carefully, watching as he moves his hands just so.  

She rises and looks him square in the eye.  Her tear-stained face is tight with emotion.  Giles braces to catch the same sort of punch she had given her brother.

Then she throws her arms around him and nearly pulls him off his feet in an embrace.  "Oh, thank the Morninglord for delivering you to us!  I hated the thought of forcing this upon Father Donavich.  The man and his son have been ostracized by the town... it would have been callous to just march up there and demand a special service just because of who our father is."  She steps back and wipes fresh tears from her face and smiles.  "This will be so much better for everyone!"

"Y... Yes.  Yes!  Absolutely what I was thinking, Ireena," Ismark steps in upon seeing Giles has made the sale.  He advances and places a hand on both of their shoulders.  "As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk about something.  Since we have no need or want to trouble Father Donavich..." he leaves this hang in the air for a long moment, "... I wanted to get your feelings about laying father to rest here, in the gardens?  Its not tradition, I know, but he wouldn't be alone.  You know how often he would visit Yakov... he could always be there to watch over him, now.  And he would be close so we can always visit... you know, once all of this has settled down."

She looks hesitant again and looks at Father Giles.  "I don't know.  This isn't a cemetery... though our elder brother is buried on the estate.  Can you consecrate this land properly such that it would be proper to inter him here?"

Giles gives her a knowing smile and says “Why yes, my child.  I imagine such was done for Yakov, the same could be done for his brother.  I would need to see the area, a grave would need to be dug, and the land would be fit to receive him.  Many families perform private burials on their estate, it is completely within tradition, I have no doubt that this is all very proper and actually… preferred.  I imagine this is what your father.. would have wanted, dear child!  So, let us help with this matter, then we can get you to safety.  Ismark, can you show me the area beside Yakov?  Ireena, you stay here, I just wish to survey the area and consecrate it, then we will be back for the interment and the ceremony.  I want you to remain here with your father, and I want you to pray, my child.  You need this time with him.”  

Giles turns his back to the coffin and looks at his companions, the slightest wrinkle of a smile appears at the edges of his mouth.  “Ismark, show me, if you please.”   He heads to the door.

Soren glances from Giles to Ismark to Ireena, not understanding what is happening but keeping quiet.  The idea of 'consecrating' land is foreign to him.  Is not most land already fertile for Silvanus' bounty of life to thrive upon?  Perhaps the land in this world is tainted in some way...

He does note the exchange regarding Father Donavich and his son Doru being 'ostracized'.  He mouths the word, unsure of the meaning.

Ismark mentioned that Doru was one of those who marched upon Castle Ravenloft as Raquon of Greyhawk did.  But Strahd has not killed Doru as he did Raquon, but instead attacked his mind.  Driven Doru 'stark raving mad' and screaming at all hours, with the village wanting to kill him...

Shuddering, Soren decides to stick with what he knows.  He thinks a little more praying, to whichever god, will not go amiss here, so he continues to pray for Silvanus' wild grace and guidance, tapping Giles on the shoulder once more.  Hoping to bolster whatever it is the not-Father is doing.

Zefla watches the cleric easily deceive the girl and she wonders if the girl would have been so duped if she wasn't in such a state of grieving?  Either way, now they don't have to deal with this hermit of a Father and his stark raving mad son.  Good for all she supposes.  

She finds it hard to keep a straight face as Giles continues, going on about getting the backyard ready, even saying that the father would prefer it?  Nice touch...

As Giles and Ismark head towards the door, she promptly follows behind, peering over her shoulder at Ireena to see if she was actually putting on a show of her own?

Insight  16

Burr isn't quite sure if he's supposed to follow Giles or not so just stands quietly looking out the window to give the young woman space.

Giles and Zefla:

Ismark leads the two of you deeper into the house - all the way through, in fact.  He unlocks a set of double-paned glass doors at the rear of the home which open onto a walled garden.  Once the doors are closed and you are outside, Ismark claps a hand on Giles' shoulder.  "Well done.  Well done.  I'm much relieved not to have to deal with Father Donavich.  I remember him as a kind and godly man, but I don't know what goes on up at that church now, and I'm happy we don't have to find out."  He smirks.  "So who was it you worship?  The Lord of Salesmen?"

Outside, brick pavers lead to a stone patio.  An empty greenhouse, with several missing panes of glass sits against the outer wall on one side.  On the other side, against the house, two short hedgerows surround a rose garden.  Unlike so much of the plantlife here in Barovia, these roses are - if not thriving - at least well cared for and healthy.  Where the patio ends and earth below the roses begins, there is a circle of round stones.  Ismark stands by the roses for a moment, taking in the garden.  Then he points to the ring of stones.  "Yakov.  My older brother.  He passed when we were just children.  Father spent a lot of time here in the garden."

After a moment, he continues.  "You weren't wrong, in there.  I suspect father would have rather been here, if he cared about a final resting place at all."

"Do you need to prepare?  Or is this more about keeping up appearances for my sister?"

Soren and Burr:

After the others leave, Ireena ignores the two of you for a long time.  She stands by her father's body, whispering to him about being laid to rest in his gardens and how he will be able to stay close to the family.

Eventually she turns to look both of you over.  When she finally addresses you, she asks a question.  "So.  You are to be my escort to Vallaki, the walled city.  Is there anything I should pack for my journey?"  

Soren looks back at Ireena solemnly for a moment, unsure of what to say at first.  Then eventually realizing and getting to his main point.

"Ireena Kolyana," he begins, not knowing enough to call her something like 'my lady'.  "I am Soren Thornpaw and this is Burr Hollen.  You do not know us and we know neither you nor this land, having arrived here inadvertently through the mists yesterday while fighting werewolves.  Despite that, I am saddened at what has happened.  As to what you should pack, I can only think of the obvious.  Spare and warm clothing, food, water and gear to sleep outdoors.  Weapons of choice, silvered if you have them.  Any token or gift that might be needed for the pack leaders at Vallaki to accept you and us..."

Soren pauses, then speaks his real point, as he had to Ismark earlier in the tavern.  All creatures of the land and sea and air have free will.  Even humans.

"As a traveling companion, what I would like to ask you is... do you wish to go of your own volition?  We are escorting you because your brother asked us.  It seems the right thing, if we can help, given what has happened.  But we cannot truly help if you do not yourself wish to make the journey to Vallaki.  Your brother suggested you do, but he did not sound certain.  Hopeful, perhaps.  Or fearful of what might occur if you do not."

Burr smiled slightly as Soren spoke, for a wild man he had quite the gift of the gab when needed.

" As Soren said, enough clothing to keep warm on the road and supplies for the journey. which I can carry if we are by foot.  Are you....have you had training in combat?"