The drow somewhat blocks out his sibling's chatter. He understands Jared's frustration, but at this point they may as well work with what they've got. As for Zathon's words, he has similar thoughts to Anthony's. Things like that shouldn't be said where there are unwanted listeners. Not to mention Akyan has no intention of 'befriending' anyone here. Alignments sure, but he doesn't like the idea of making any sort of lasting ties.

Akyan's silver eyes focus on the Sorvia as she approaches the group. He holds his gaze steady as the woman's confidence seems to waver for a moment...which probably doesn't make her feel any more comfortable, and waits expectantly for her to say something. Once she finally does, he blinks. Then his eyes flick to the tall woman when she speaks up. He remains silent as the three woman figure out who's going to do the talking. Once they figure that out, he directs his attention to the speaker, taking in all of their information. In general, their explanation aligns with what Ismark told them.

His eyes flick back to Sorvia when she mentions a windmill, and he notes their reactions. Interesting, perhaps they should inquire more about this windmill... He looks back to Mirabel as she advertises this Madame Eva person. A seer? Hmmm. He's not sure what to make of that...

"I'm called Akyan." He says in his usual tone. "And I appreciate the information. We will consider visiting Madame Eva....I also appreciate the warning about the windmill. May I ask why is it so dangerous?"

Aoufie listens intently to the 3 women. He focuses in on how the Alenka mention they just pass through Barovia.  "Thank you for telling us what you know of this dark land. I am Aoufie. If you usually pass through the region does that mean you can potentially take us home to the Sword Coast of Faerun or is it only Madam Eva who has the power to send us back. You see we need to be there for our mother's funeral. Frankly I do not even know how we even got here." 

Don't go to the windmill. If Anthony were a gambler he'd put money on the group inventing a reason to visit. Fortunetellers were always good fun. Taking the women in, their style of dress, their accent, the talk of a camp with a seer, he was certain he'd seen similar people passing through Scornubel with the caravans during the summer mixed in among the traders and entertainers. Collectively, the lot formed almost a second tent city out on the green with their wagons and tents. 

He smiled at three women in turn, cranking up the dimples a touch with the woman calling herself Sorvia."How far is it to Valaki from here? And the Tser Pool you said? If Madam Eva is as charming as you three, we should pay a visit." 

Kora smiles at Akyan.  She has never known him to be so persuasive, must have learned other things in the time away as well.  She is surprised as the women actually come and join them.  She had actually written them off as a lost cause.  

She's glad Aoufie asks about Mom's funeral, but she doubts there will be any answer.  And they have probably missed it by now.  She finds herself surprised at how this saddens her.  Aeolwyn meant a lot to her, and it's too bad you don't really realize how much until they are gone.

shaking her head to get out of her own thoughts, she asks, "Yes, the Tser Pool, which direction might we head?  Also, do you know anything about Ismark and his talk about his sister Ireena, is there truth to this?"  She pauses, and really looks at the women.  The way they stand out and hold themselves amongst the others in the bar, it really is something to behold, beautiful it it's own right.  "Thank you for opening up to us.  I can see it wasn't easy and we truly appreciate it."

The three sisters share a silent look as Kyan asks about windmill. A long moment of silence ensues as they each wait for each other to speak up. Sorvia's fretting with her dress intensifies, and Maribel begins to rub her arm awkwardly. Finally, Alenka speaks up, saying, "Just trust us when we say to avoid it."

Alenka shakes her head slowly at Aoufie's words. "Strahd can somehow close the borders of the Barovia. I'm not quite sure how he does it, but we vistani are allowed to travel freely when others can't."

"The mists choke those who aren't allowed to travel through them," Maribel adds with a distant expression on her face. She shivers, looking uncomfortable. "Even if we're allowed to travel the mists, there are... beasts that roam the mists as well. Even we are not immune to the dangers of the mist."

Sorvia's blush deepens when Anthony smiles at her. She keeps her eyes on the ground, not trusting herself to look up as she responds to Anthony and Kora, "You can get to Vallaki in about a day's travel, and Tser pool is along the way. It's off the trail a bit and in the woods." She glances up, careful to not look at Anthony. 

Picking up where Sorvia left off, Alenka remarks, "Ismark's story rings true. We've only been here for about a week, but their manor was attacked by wolves and other of Strahd's minions the first few nights." 

They each stand there a moment, silently looking at each other again. It appears they did that a lot. Finally, Maribel speaks up. "Well, it was great to meet all of you, but we need to get going. Our caravan is leaving soon, and I don't want to miss it." Her stony face softens a bit, a hint of kindness softening her hard features. "Barovia is a dangerous place. Stick to the trails during the day, and never be caught outside during the night. Don't trust anyone, no matter how kind they may be. I may sound pessimistic, trust can get you killed here." She looks each of you in the eye before she says with a hint of a somber smile, "Good luck."

With that, she too heads towards the door without looking back towards the group. Alenka is quick to follow, and as she exits the inn, she cries out, "Don't kill any ravens!" before she disappears outside. Sorvia hesitates for a moment before giving a bashful curtsy, her face reddening even more as she scurries out to follow her sisters. 

"Thanks for everything, ladies." The thanks are genuine, but the smile drops as soon as the women leave and he sits back with a thoughtful expression. He wanted to talk it out, but there were too many strangers here, so he mulled over the pieces in his head while staring at the drinks still sitting on the table. Barovia. Ravens. Mist traveling Vistani. Strahd can close the borders. Lord of the valley ..That means he could open them. Kazhad-nei had implied he was drawing them in.

 Aoelwyn had called this a prison realm, she'd handed them the keys and told them not to let anyone out. That was pretty f'd. Meeting with ravens, Castle Ravenloft. Had she met with him? Courted him? Opposed him? Master of his own prison? Tatanya? Consorts. Now he wanted Ireena? And her brother was about to hand her over to strangers knowing nothing at all about their allegiances or intentions. They didn't even know their allegiances or intentions here. He eyed the drink again while his brain cooked trying to sort through the complicated mess of nothing. The big man scrubbed his face with a faintly shaking hand, scratching at the stubble. He'd look like a ape by tomorrow if he didn't get a shave. 

Don't go to the windmill. Madam Eva at the Tser Pool. Had Aoelwyn visited her? It seemed a better place to ask than here. And about Van Richten as well. He didn't trust the people in this village. The whole place reeked of desperation. "Right. Crying next?"

Zathon mulls over the information in his head. These Vistani were pragmatic. You had to be in a place like this. The more he thought things over the more it felt like.. well.. home. The real one. 

"I would never hurt a raven," Zathon mutters, then takes a sip from his cup. After a moment he looks over to Anthony. "Couldn't hurt to look in on it."

Kora watches the women leave and wonders if they will run into them again or not.  The people that lived in Barovia sure were strange and so... depressing.  She wondered if any of these people knew Tom?  or Aeolwyn?  And as she was alone with her siblings she brings it up.  "So, shall we see if anyone in this town or Vallaki know Tom or Aeolwyn?  Might help figuring things out?  I just don't want to start asking anyone willy nilly cause honestly?  I have no idea who to believe here or who Aeolwyn believes we should follow."  She sinks back in her chair, not exactly ready to run off to the next thing yet.

"Yes, let's check on whoever is crying out there as this place is horrid enough especially if your are all alone. Kora we can ask people on the way if you have more questions. For now lets get going" says Aoufie after with a look concern. I guess we are stuck here in this dreadful land as this Strahd most likely have locked down the borders of his realm. I am sorry Aunty Grym that I was not able to say my final goodbye. He will wait to see if his siblings wish to join him or if they wish to split up. 

Afterwards he will leave the tavern and walk towards the mournful cry if it can still be head outside. 

Akyan raises an eyebrow at Kora when she smiles at him. What's that about? He'd just spoken his honest opinion. Whatever, he'll never understand women.

He nods to the three Vistani when they just tell him to take their word about the windmill. His question had given him pretty much the reaction he'd expected, but he'd figured he might as well try. Thumbing his ring, he thinks on their explanation about the mists and Strahd's ability to close the borders. Perhaps these mist talismans gifted to them by Aeolwyn could allow them to travel the mists like the Vistani? They seemed to help disperse it during their skirmish with Kazhad-nei. Even if they do nothing against whatever creatures roam the mists, if they allow them to leave that would be help enough. He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes when Anthony causes Sorvia to blush. Well, at least there's still some of the old Anthony left in him. Gah, and Kora was giving him looks.

Putting those thoughts out of his mind he refocuses on the conversation at hand. With Sorvia's confirmation of Ismark's story, this makes him more inclined to help that man's sister. Sorvia has no reason to back Ismark for obvious reasons, so her to confirmation of his story lessens the chance of some kind of trick in his mind. Though this still doesn't make him want to help the man completely for free. After all, he'd basically told the group that they would probably die here before asking for help.

At Mirabel's warning about trust, the drow almost smirks. Those are wise words, but he needs no warning about such things. Trust can get you killed anywhere, so it is not something he regularly practices. He meets her gaze when she looks him in the eyes and inclines his head to her when she is finished speaking rather than offering any words in return. His siblings have offered enough thanks as it is.

He blinks at the request for them to not kill any Ravens. Ravens. Aoelwyn had been speaking with ravens before her fall. Does that mean there are sentient birds in this land? Hmmm, in that case perhaps they should catch any they come across...

Once the three women leave, he stands. "Might as well." He replies to Anthony. "If she's still at it anyways. I guess we can at least ask that Ismark fellow what it was about." Then he nods to Kora, "We can ask around, but don't ask everyone the same questions. Strangers asking questions always spawn rumors and rumors could vary well draw enemies down on us far earlier then they would come otherwise." He shoots Jared a glare, "Finding answers takes a bit of finesse, and a lot of patience." Then he sighs, "To be honest I doubt anyone in this town knows anything about Tom, Aoelwyn, or this Van Ritchten person. We'll probably have more luck in Vallaki. ...Before we run into the man again, what are all of your thoughts on escorting his sister? Vallaki sounds like as good a place as any to search for answers, and if we are going there I don't see a reason not to escort her...aside from the fact that having her with us could make us more of a target for Strahd then we already are."

Anthony stands and stretches, things popping and cracking as he does. "If we're headed the same way, not much reason she couldn't tag along. But I'd rather talk to her about it than her brother. Things might not be as straightforward as he made it out to be. And,"He looks around at the group. "She might not want to travel with a bunch of strange men."

He had other thoughts, but wasn't going to share them the open. He followed the others out into town.

You step out of the gloomy tavern and into the even gloomier town of Barovia. The thin fog hanging in the air seems to deaden the sun overhead, but you can still see clearly enough. The feeble bit of warmth and light that manage to pierce the haze around you don't provide much comfort however. Somehow, even they seem as dead as the land around you, stifled by the oppressive gloom that grips the land tightly in its grip.

You see a few gaunt locals milling about the town. Their faces and body seem haggard and worn-out, their hallow expressions and gazes conveying a sense of hopelessness and struggle.  Their clothing is as equally as ragged, and a few of them even wear things that would barely pass as rags back in the normal world. Their movements are timid and small as they look fearfully about them, almost as if expecting some monster to descend out of the mists at any second to end their miserable lives. 

You quickly find Ismark standing in front of a house just a bit down the street, his hands resting on his hips and a puzzled frown upon his face as he looks up at the source of crying. The weeping drifting from an open window on the second story seems to have died down from mournful wailing to bitter sniffling. This house is as worn and torn as the rest of the town with boarded windows and old gashes upon the walls and door. He sees you approaching out the corner of his eye, and he turns to face you, a friendly half-smile stealing away his frown. He says to you, nodding towards the battered house, "This is Mary's place. I've yelled up at her a few times to see what's wrong, but she hasn't answered. I just told her I was going to go in before you got here." As he closes the distance to the door in a few steps, he says, "Feel free to follow if you like." He reaches out gently tests the door. It swings open on squeaky hinges, revealing the dark interior of the building. Ismark looks a bit surprised and more than a bit worried at how the door wasn't lock. He draws out his slender blade with his left hand, the silvery metal hissing as it leaves its sheath. "Mary," he calls up warily as he peeks into the building. "I'm coming in with a few friends." 

Jared follows the group outside, not happy about the decision to take up some other task and put finding the murderer of Mum on the back burner. 
He looks around as the party comes to where Ismark is standing, scanning behind them and any other place that might hold a threat.
He will fall in line and follow if the party decides to go inside.

Anthony thinks drawing weapons is a little over the top for the current situation and follows immediately after, a bit of magic on his fingertips rather than charging into a crying woman's how brandishing weapons. "Mary, name's Anthony. You need a hand up there, or.. just someone to chat with?" Looking around this place and at the people here... doesn't look like there are a lot of reasons to be happy.

Zathon follows his siblings out of the tavern, although takes a moment to finish his drink and thank the barkeep for his hospitality. He overall doesnt have a good feeling about this place, but A did business here so there is bound to be connections they can make. These kind of things take time, and this is a decent enough start, as well as an opportunity to get to know further what kind of man Ismark is. He is a step after Anthony, hand on his sword just in case.  

Kora sighs as the rest start heading out of the semi warm inn.  She follows them and is a bit disturbed by the people she sees.  Don't they want more for themselves?  Do they try?  Or have they given up all hope as it seems.   What a way to live.

Trudging along with the rest, she looks up at the house the sniffles are coming from and sighs again.  She too finds it a bit odd that Ismark takes out his weapon, but it puts her on guard immediately.  She debates wild shaping, but decides to wait a moment as she heads into the house.  She keeps an eye open for anything that may jump out at them.

Perception  15

Akyan frowns when Ismark invites them into this woman's house. Why is this guy so trusting? And why does he expect them all to just help him? He shakes his head slightly, then silghlently follows in after Anthony and Zathon.

The sniffling woman, supposedly "Mary," doesn't reply. The sorrowful sounds falling from the window continue unabated. 

As everyone else enters the house with Ismark taking lead, you see the interior of the unlit house it just as decrepit and rundown as the rest of Barovia. The wooden floors and walls are bare of any decoration or furniture. You see something resting near one of the walls that you suppose might pass as a tattered armchair, but it looked more like a lump of something covered in torn rags. Shadowed doorways lead deeper into the house, but most of you can't make out details in the rooms belong because of the darkness lingering in the cold air. 

Ismark quietly slips across the room and peeks past one of the doorways. Apparently satisfied, he moves through the gaping doorway, disappearing into the shadows. You hear him say, "I'm coming up the stairs, Mary." Following him into the other room, you find yourself in a barren kitchen. Looking to the left, you see the faint form moving up a short flight of stairs, the wooden steps creaking under his feet. You hear a few rats squeaking in the kitchen, but you can't ascertain their location. 

You follow Ismark up the stairs and find yourself in a small landing. Behind one of the closed doors on the landing, you can hear Mary sniffling. Ismark carefully makes his way to the door and cautiously pushes the scarred slab of wood open. The door swings open to reveal a small bedroom. A moth-eaten rug lies upon the dusty floor, its once vibrant colors faded. A bed sagging in its center rests in the far corner, and a small wooden dresser occupies the opposite corner. On the center of the rug is a middle-aged woman fallen to her knees. She wears simple clothing held together by more than a few patches and stitches. Her back is to you, and you see her rock back and forth slightly, her shoulders trembling in silent sobs. She seems to be clutching something to her chest, but you can't see what it is from this angle. She apparently takes no heed at your intrusion.

"Mary?'' Ismark questions warily. "What's wrong?" He stays at the door, his right hand resting on the tarnished door handle as his left hand clutches his thin blade.

At the sound of Ismark's voice, Mary turns to look towards everyone. Her haggard face is creased and weathered by a lifetime of worry and fear. Her pale blue eyes are puffy and swollen from crying, and a few tears dangle from her chin. You see the thing she was clutching close to her body is a grotesque, malformed doll resembling a little girl, or at least it was supposed to in theory. It wears a sackcloth dress, and an odd leer is plastered across its face.

She looks to Ismark, her chin trembling. In a hoarse, trembling whisper, she breathes out, "She's gone." Her weeping begins in earnest once again, tears streaming down her face as her wails rend the air once more. "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone!"

Ismark sheathes his sword and rushes over and kneels down by Mary. He takes off his outer vest and drapes it across her sobbing shoulders in a comforting manner. As he does, he asks gently, "Who's gone? What happened?"

Between racking sobs, Mary manages to cry out, "My Gertruda, she's gone! She's gone, she's gone!" Ismark pauses for a moment, and then awkwardly drapes a comforting arm around Mary and pulls her in for a hug. 

"She'll be ok Mary. What happened," he says, looking slightly uncomfortable.

It takes some time before she manages to compose herself enough to the point where she could get a few words out between sobs. "Sh-she left a week ago, and she hasn't come back. I- I don't know where she is, but she's out there all by herself!" Anguish crying consumes her again, and Ismark looks up helplessly towards the group as he tries to comfort the distraught woman.

Anthony, gestures subtly for Ismark to put the sword away and gives himself a little magical luck. ((guidance))  "Sister Mary," His tone calm and quiet, but with a hint of authority. "Take a breath, let it out slowly. Take a moment to collect your thoughts." He pauses a few beats, but not long enough to give her time to start rambling again. "Gertruda, your- daughter? She left. Alone or with someone?" He pauses, giving her time to answer the question before asking another. "Did she say anything or leave a note?" 

Keeping his voice low, he extends a hand to her palm up, covering her hand with his if she takes it or letting it drop to his side.

((Persuasion + guidance 14 +8 =18))

Aoufies follows Ismark into the room and is saddened by the state of this house and of Mary. He kneels down and offers Mery his handkerchief with a kind smile. "Here Mary please use this to wipe your tears." What a dreadful place. This Strahd has beaten any hope the people have out of them. I wish I can do something, but short of building a wall and somehow finding a wagon load of food. Harumph.