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Ravenloft

It wasn’t even midnight.

Andrei dragged himself to his feet, staggering a little and nearly falling over. The nausea was still there, as was the dizziness, but they were bearable. They had to be. Because he could hear them plainly outside the Monk’s Hole. The rats. The rats, scurrying and creeping, seeking them for their master.

No, not them. Strahd didn’t care about him. He wanted the Lady Ireena.

As if on cue she shifted, waving him over to the cot. He wanted to protest, wanted to plead his duty, but his head swam abd he nearly collapsed. Bracing himself against the wall, he lowered himself onto the cot and smothered a jaw-cracking yawn. “I fear I’ve failed you,” he said slowly. “All that we’ve done was... was for...”

Blinking, he jerked his head up from his chest. Had he fallen asleep? The candle looked lower... or did it? And Lady Reena hadn’t moved. Had she? “Was... was for... nothing.”

Distantly, he heard the clock chime twice. But had he missed part of it? What time was it? “When, when dawn comes,” he said, “you should flee. Find refuge. The be...”. He bit the word off. “You cannot let him find you.”
 
Ireena's heart hurt for the man. He was in clear pain and such mental torture. The glow of the candle flickered with a waver that resembled her heart. Time seemed so slow and as he joined her on the cot. It eased her nerves to have him close and sharing in his human warmth. Ireena sat up and stroked slender fingers idly through his hair.

By the sound of his breathing, she could tell that he dozed off. The stroking of his hair seemed to be cathartic for the woman. Her eyes stared off into the distances and did not focus at all. Her mind was sluggish and body tired, but there was a sense of fear that kept those eyes from closing. Upon hearing Andrei's voice once more it started her heart into a rapid pace that almost hurt. Even she had not been paying attention to the time. "We will flee, Andrei." Softly she corrected him while stroking his hair.

"You've come so far... do not leave me now..." Whispered words were only loud enough for his ears and his ears only. Despite such words, she worried about her father and brother. There was hope that both were fairing far better than her. No doubt her brother was hunkered down the inn with a bottle and for once she wished that he was hugging the bottle and passed out. Ignorant of this fear that surrounded them. A painful yawn was stifled and the fight between much-needed sleep and fear of the unknown was intense.
 
The old stone manor on the southern fringes of the village of Barovia was a place of eerie silence. There were no voices to be heard beyond their own whispers. The surrounding howls of the wolves were all but gone from the property. Such quiet made the sound of the rats all the more prominent. But the ticking of the grandfather clock, idly counting the seconds away, stood out the most.

It was some time after the eleventh hour of the night when the squeaking of the rodents beyond the monk hole began to diminish before finally fading away. With their constant sniffing and screeching removed from the manor the ticking of the great clock sounded seemingly in rhythm with their own heart beats. In the flickering light from the fat candle that slowly was burning away, Ireena felt the pulsing of her heart rise in the vein of her freshly bitten jugular. The sensation was soon followed by the allure of his voice sounding from some other room on the second floor of the manor.

In his regal attire of black, crimson, and ivory, Strahd rested on one knee before the fallen body of Elrick. Clawed hands grasped the side of the mans head and with a sharp twist the vampire wrenched the head of Elrick back into a mostly proper position. His robes swirled across the wooden floor boards while his long fingers placed a pair of perfectly cut obsidian stones atop the dead guards eyes. With a simple push from the tips of his fingers the stones plunged into the sockets with a sickening squish.

"You will rise and serve me in death." Though his voice sounded softly, it resonated with untold power as it echoed through the halls of the vast manor. "Find the man you once served with, and kill him." Strahds' talon tipped fingers remained pressed into the sockets of Elrick's gem filled eyes. "Harm not the woman Ireena and guard her as you did in life." The body of Elrick jostled and twitched, the sudden movements of his animated corpse sounded with a hollow thud upon the wooden floorboards of Ireena's bedchamber.

"She is not to leave this manor. Keep her here until my return." Strahds' laughter rang out through the manor as he departed through the open balcony doors. With an unearthly groan, Elrick rose up from the floor. His cracked neck left his head to dangle awkwardly to one side as he began to shuffle his way towards the exit of the room. Long black claws replaced the nails of his now cold fingers as the zombie made his way out of the bedroom while the pools of black that his eyes had become bled tears of foul ebony ichor.

"I......reeeeenaaaaaaaa……" It was a guttural and horrid sound that was made all the worse by how it resembled the tone of Elrick's once living voice. "I.....reeeeeenaaaaaa….."
 
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Katya bit on the inside of her cheek to hold in any chuckle as she watched Esperanza search the sleeping man's pockets. Especially once he grabbed her and tried to make her his pillow. Granted, her technique could use some work and wasn't as smooth as streetchildren in Krotice, but she got what she was after. In the end that was all what counted. Katya's eyes gleamed with the thrill of a break-in and her smile grew as Esperanza held out the key. Leaning in, she watched eagerly as the key turned in the lock. This little lockbox didn't dissapoint, unveiling fantastic treasure. Her hands itched and Katya curled her fingers into her palm. She wasn't after his riches, yet. The real treasure were answers and they weren't anything as ovbious as gold. That handle looked interesting though.

Katya reached out towards it, when suddenly downstairs the ruckus culminated in someone screaming like they were dieing. Looking up in surprise, she realised a second too late that their drunk target had been woken by the screams too. Cursing vigurously, she swiftled palmed the handle, slipping it into her pocket in one smooth sweep like the nimble-fingered streetkid she was and she knocked the lid of the lockbox back down. Meanwhile, bottles of wine crashed to the floor. Rising to her feet, she could only barely dodge the bottle of wine smashing into her head. Instead it knocked into her shoulder and then broke into shards on the floor. That was going to leave a bruise.

"Calm down!" Her hand reached for her knife even as she tried to diplomatic option first. "Will you shut it? We're not here to steal from you." Or well, maybe a little. But not really. She was reasonably sure she could take him if he came at her, especially if Esperanza helped. But none of that would endear them to the patrons of this establishment. And it wouldn't get them any more answers. Katya glanced at her doppelganger, meeting her eyes just for second.

"Sit down, you're wrecking all your wine and if you do that, then what will you drink tomorrow?" She gestured to floor, covered in broken glass and the deep red liquid staining the clothes he'd left there. Smiling tentatively, she used her foot to clear him a way back to the bed, pushing the glass to the side. "Look we just want to talk to you. You're the Burgomaster's son. You recognized us. You know.. Ireena." She said the name carefully, almost as if sampling it, tasting how it felt on her tongue. Katya shared another glance with Esperanza, wondering how far she should go. "My sister and I are here to find our family."
 
God’s, but he was tired. A fatigue that ate at his bones, legacy of a week of sleepless nights. And Lady Ireena’s warmth and presence felt comforting and safe, and he just wanted to sleep. “We [BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]will flee, Andrei, she murmured, stroking his hair. Her voice was soothing, adding to the illusion of comfort and safety. [/BGCOLOR][BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]"You've come so far... do not leave me now..." [/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“I won’t, my lady,” he murmured back. “Not while...”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“iiiiiiiirrrrrreeeeeennnnnnaaaaa....”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Andrei’s blood froze at the sound.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Iiiiiiirrrrreeeeeeennnnnnaaaaa...”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]He hadn’t imagined it. A low groaning voice, dragging the Lady Ireena’s name out into a sound of torment. “Iiiiiirrrreeeeennnnaaaa....”. And it was Elrick’s voice. Elrick, dead Elrick, calling for their lady.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Iiiirrrrreeeeennnnaaaa...”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Raising a hand for silence, he strained his ears. A floorboard creaked in the Burgomeister’s office. Another. Another. “Iiiiirrrrrreeeennnnaaaa....”. Elrick’s dead, tormented voice was closer now, just outside the Monk’s Hole. He could hear the heavy footsteps now, on the other side of the bookcase that concealed the door.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Elrick knew where the Monk’s Hole was. All of the Burgomeister’s Guard has known, because any of them might have had to take the family there. And now the black arts of Devil Strahd turned that knowledge against the family Elrick had sworn to protect.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]There was a thumping sound as the corpse beyond the wall fumbled at the bookcase. [/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]As quietly as he could, Andrei rose to his feet. “Here, my Lady,” he breathed, Darwin his silver-bladed dagger and pressing it into Ireena’s hand. “I will not leave you. But if... if the thing out there passes me, do not let it take you.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]With that, he drew his sword as faced the door. Drawing a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders and exhaled. “Pelor,” he whispered, tightening and loosing his grip on his hilt, “stand with me.”[/BGCOLOR]
 
Despite getting her hopes up, there wasn't much of interest in the chest. The hilt with deGrey upon it sparked a moment's interest, lessons on nobility and prominent families flashing quickly through her mind. But she didn't have a chance to come to a conclusion before Ishmark awoke and spouted accusations to them.

Esperanza twisted out of the path of Ishmark's wild swing, light on her feet after a decade of dance and dueling training. Unfortunately, this left Katya to take the hit, and even with her own dodge, she couldn't escape the blow entirely. They were just going to have to talk some sense into him. So she reached out to grab his wrist, driving with her full strength to pin it down on the bed. It wasn't easy, however. Ishmark was a big man, with at least a hundred pounds on her, and struggled more the tighter she gripped his wrist.

"We're not thieves," she insisted, oblivious to what Katya had already pocketed. "I'll let you go if you calm down, and we can discuss this like adults." For a time longer, he resisted, tugging anf jerking his arm and testing her grip. Finally, he relented, and once he was still, she released him as well. Esperanza took a moment to catch her breath, calming herself, and giving Ishmark a chance to do the same.

"Apologies for entering your room uninvited, but we both have many questions. Questions that couldn't wait until morning." She kept her voice even and calm, and held his gave with determination in her eyes. "We had only hoped to find some answers."
 
It had been a close thing at the door, far too close and Pias had payed the price but hopefully had some consolation at keeping his life. A few silent nods of acknowledgement were shared between the men, enough to assure Xavier there would be no immediate conflict between the occupants of the tavern over the handling of the door. Regaining his feet he looked at the length of his bloodied blade, still dull and nicked from the abuse it received on the trip here. He had promised to sharpen and oil it but he was far too tired, it seemed an apt symbol of how he felt. As the immediate rush of violence began to fade he felt his exhaustion even more acutely, he needed sleep but that seemed an unlikely luxury after the last few moments. He would at least have to clean it before so much as sheathing it but even that thought was quickly dispelled as the taunting voice of the vampiress was heard once more. He had missed her show of draining Pias' arm of every last drop of blood but there was no missing the venom dripping from her voice as she laid out her terms. He turned quickly to face the shifting voice, the effect chilling perhaps even more than her obvious show of strength. He made a silent prayer for strength and courage, not just for himself but the others now besieged in the tavern, all would need measures of both if they were to survive the night.

As the chilling voice faded Xavier looked to the clock, noting the time, despite his fatigue his mind began sorting and prioritizing. He fought his instinct to run immediately to Esperanza, he needed information if he was going to protect her effectively. He had a million questions but only two were important at the moment. He headed towards the bar but the keeper had retreated into the kitchen. Xavier grabbed the rag the old man had been using to clean glasses and wiped the worst of the blood and gore from his blade, sheathing it for the moment. He looked at the scene in the tavern, the gypsies working on their friend, and Bucren repeating his own advice and whether it was meant as pity or insult he hadn't the time to ponder. The sound of crashing wine bottles upstairs had been drowned out by Pias' screams, had they not, Xavier would have been upstairs by now. Instead he looked to Bucren, the closest thing he had to a vampire expert and a brother in arms at the moment. He had not fully lost his sense of humor as Bucren commented on the quality of their respective companions. "Yes, Miss Sergovia has a knack for trouble and her apparent twin shares the talent. I think though that I will keep them for the moment at least." The smile faded from his face however as he considered one of his two questions. "How do you kill them?" He asked, the chill in the blood drinking beauty's voice made it clear that either she or he were going to die this night and he needed every advantage he could get.

He listened to all that the man had to offer as to the fighting of vampires. Thinking them just legend he had never fully cataloged the many rumors and legends and this was no time to find a myth useless in combat. Much of what he had seen began to make more sense. He glanced again at the clock, having used half of their allotted time he knew he needed to warn the girls. " I think you will find me a more reliable comrade then your previous companions but I ask one favor of you my friend." He used the term in hopes that they were gaining some small sense of camaraderie and trust. "Find the bar keeper if you can and find the most defensible spot for the ladies. We don't have much time but I intend to stay between them and this night's fate." He voice expressed a determination he could only hope his worn and tired body could deliver.

As he passed the gypsies his mind wandered to the idea of placating the evil beast but he knew he couldn't do something like that but would he stop them from doing it? Did he want the to do it? Such questions reminded him that not just his body but his soul was in peril here. He may not be able to preserve both. He then was taking the stairs two at a time and without concern for their modesty opened the door. "Begging your pardon..." He said but then his voice failed him as he found their room empty. He was close to panic, going to the window but finding the barrier intact. He turned in all directions, but there was no where for them to be hiding. "Esperanza.' He kept his voice low in response to the culture here but he repeated it louder. Only on about his fourth try was he loud enough to be heard in the next room and it was then that he thought of the possibility they had went to find their own answers. He started for the door and to find the room of the drunken noble.
 
The brief physical altercation had worked up a sweat, causing the nobleman to reek of the booze that so thoroughly saturated his veins. It mixed rather poorly with the stink of garlic as Ismark's chest rose and fell rapidly as he caught his breath. While the drunken pot bellied form of Ismark sat on the edge of the king sized bed his hazy eyes tried to gain some focus on the pair of identical ladies in his room. His gaze settled mainly on Esperanza, blinking as he worked to draw her blurry figure into clarity. Finally he muttered while he cradled his pinched wrist with his free hand and tenderly massaged at the ache left from the pressure of Esperanza's grasp. "Oh, fuck, it's you two."

His bloodshot eyes looked between the two as he gave them both a sarcastic gape mouthed look. "Bloody hells, you coulda knocked." Abruptly Ismark belched before taking a moment to look around the candlelit room for a bottle of wine to quench his thirst. Not seeing one immediately offering itself up Ismark glanced back towards the young ladies. "I don't know, what kind of answers your looking for." There was some bite to his words as he gave them a scornful look while he dug a hand into the pocket of his vest and produced a bent up, half burned cigar.

Ismark pushed up from the bed, staggering over to the flame of the candle atop his dresser. "Ya betta off asking your, your mom." He spoke with some disdain as he stole another spiteful look towards the duo. Stuffing the cigar into his puffy lips Ismark leaned over the flickering flame of the candle and toked it back to life. "I don't intend to be anywhere near you, or your fucking mom when the Devil comes to take you." He took a deep drag off the cigar and let out a loud cough.

As smoke billowed in a thick cloud from his mouth the ruby cheeked man stared defiantly at them both. "I guess my dad's warning never made it to you. Not that I'm surprised, nobody ever leaves Barovia, but he wouldn't fucking listen." Another belch followed but before Ismark could issue another word the sound of Xavier's rising voice calling for Esperanza grabbed his attention and he looked towards the doorway.
 
It was reassuring to hear Andrei agree to stay by her side, but the moment was fleeting when an eerie sound reached their ears. It sent ice to rush through her veins as her hands even froze in the man's hair. The voice of her name being spoke sent a feeling of a hand squeezing around her heart to take over. The woman was lost for words and could not utter a sound. As the sound of footsteps grew closer that heart cracked through its icy shell and raced with vigor.

Andrei standing at his feet caused worried eyes to look from the entrance of the Monk hole to him. A silver dagger was pressed into her hand. Her head shook in reply; not to answer that she would comply with his wishes, but that he would not be left behind. Ireena would be damned if she were to be alone after such a night. What sense was there in living if inevitably she would be taken by the Devil himself with all of her support dead? She would much rather die with Andrei then wait for the imminent.

It sounded as though the undead Elrick was tearing books from the shelves and punching random things n the bookcase. This gave her a spark of home. Motor functions were there but not logic. "We're heading to the wine cellar." She whispered under her breath for Andrei's ear and Andrei's ears only. There lay a tunnel that went into town and led to the Burgomaster's guest house. I would leave undead Elrick with an obstacle or two to get through if Andrei did not slay his precious comrade before the reached their final destination. The bookcase was pushed open and the floor was visibly littered with shredded books and various debris with their hunter pushed back by the opening of the secret passage.

Ireena bounded for the door and into the darkness of the formerly hallowed halls of their home. There were two flights of stairs in their way to the wine cellar. It was safe to assume that their pursuer lack any cap for stamina, but any interceptions from the unknown were risks that had to be taken. They just had to make it to their destination and survive until sun up.
 
The gypsies were quick to rush their armless friend towards the kitchens, Bucren assuming to muffle his screaming and patch him up. Or put Pias somewhere quiet to die. He had no clue then that they were merely rats fleeing the sinking ship anyway they can. One though gave them a nod of gratitude for repelling the vampire, though it had all been Xavier whereas Bucren just shut the door. The elderly gypsy commented that the bitch outside might be alone but Bucren didn’t trust that. He knew from experience with the wolves that danger always traveled in packs.

He noticed too that Arik was missing, his eyes scanning for the bartender. But before he could voice why the man might abandon his wares, there came the chilling voice of the vampire from without. As she spoke, all other noise seemed to stop, at least for Bucren. Pias screaming or the thunder crackling outside seemed to have been removed far, far away when the vampiress spoke outside, demanding compensation and payment for interrupting her meal. Ten minutes, she stated, with bone-chilling laughter. Ten minutes? She was likely already going to get her sisters. Fuck. Just his luck to be besieged in a tavern with gypsies and strangers. Better the barn then. If he ever saw those so-called compatriots of his, he was definitely punching them in the face for this ordeal.

Well, maybe he deserved one as well. He had been one who convinced the others to open the door and let the woman in, costing Pias his arm. But what if it had been real? And there had really been a poor girl out there begging for survival and life? The others had been ready to let her die, enduring the screams rather than risk their necks to save her. Such a state of morbidity had not yet fallen on Bucren, he hoped. Did he do the right thing? Or did he just doom everyone in the tavern to slow deaths by the vampires? Was it bound to happen even if he was here or not? No time for questions though. The mercenary in him began to act, going to fetch his bow and quiver that he left by his table. And to take a quick gulp of the garlic flavoured stew, half his hand in the broth as he picked up the entire bowl and slurped from it directly.

If he was going to be eaten, at least he’ll give a vampire a bad stomach ache for some days.

Xavier then answered his remarks. Miss Sergovia? Fancy. No time to remark on that and what it might mean for Boravia and Bucren himself. Vampires. How to kill them. “Same as most meat.” Bucren commented drily, looking at the bowl of stew. “You just have to cut it in a certain place. Preferably deep, across the neck, just like how you took the little shit’s arm off. You can stab them through the heart too but you basically have to get close enough to kiss them. And the last thing you want to do is kiss a vampire.” He noted, checking the stringing on his bow, content that it was still wound and capable of punching an arrow through the air with lethal force. He pointed at the garlic cloves all about, charms to ward off the creatures. Right now Bucren had doubts about their abilities though but still, every little bit helps. “Get yourself a necklace too.” He added.

The other man asked a favour, to which he simply shrugged. “What are comrades for, eh?” He consented with a sardonic smile, as usual. Nothing bonded men like cutting off the arm of a gyspy huh. Bucren couldn’t deny the stroke though had been with some skill and elegance. It wasn’t so bad to have an actual warrior on his side for once. Like the old days. “They’d probably be safer up top, narrow approach and all with the stairs. But I’ll look around down here. You better appraise them of what’s going on then.” He said and with a nod, went towards the kitchens where the other gyspies had gone. And to his thinking, Arik as well. But why him? Arik wouldn’t lift a finger to help them.

There had to be some other way out of here instead of the front door.

He found the others outside the kitchen. Pias’ arm looked horrible, shedding blood from the severed veins in his arm. He looked in a state of delirium, dying slow no doubt, unless they did something to cauterize that wound. They were trying to heat up a kettle for it but Bucren knew that would be nasty. “Where’s Arik?” He asked them. “Pias isn’t going to make it much longer. Here.” He slung his bow and drew out his sword, shoving the tipped end into the flames, heating it up. “There’s got to be some other way out of here. Is there a way onto the roof? Or a cellar? We’re going to get trapped in here unless we got a plan.” He inquired, pressing his luck with comradery with these gypsies. But they were the bottom of the barrel, for a group of people already considered the bottom of the barrel.

When the blade was hot enough, he came over to Pias and pressed the searing white-hot side of the blade to the man’s severed limb. Bucren could only cringe at the man’s reaction but this act would save his life, to some degree. If they all saw morning that is.

Now if anyone knew anything, it would be Arik. He didn’t see the man in the kitchens so he went back into the common room. The first thing he did was upend one table, pressing its surface towards the door as a rudimentary obstacle. It might slow a dumb wolf down but a pack of vampires? Anything helped though. He kicked a few of the chairs over to the door. Hopefully some idiot tripped on them. “Arik? Where the fuck are you?” He asked again quite loudly, glancing around before moving behind the bar himself. Arik’s loss, he guessed. Surely this would bring the cheap fuck of a bartender racing over, as Bucren selected one of the finer bottles he never had the luxury to try.

"Well, fuck. Where that bastard get up to?" He asked to no one in particular. He wasn't in the kitchen or room. That meant...there was more to this building than he knew. And he had been coming here for years.
 
The vampiress lingered in the fringes of the clouds of fog that covered the eerily silent town square of Barovia. Her ears were sharper then any predator that nature could offer up and even at this distance she could clearly hear into the tavern. Her velvety smooth tongue wiped the blood away from the top of her protruding bottom lip as a hint of color washed across her otherwise pale figure. But there was so much more blood to be had in that place and as she heard the bounding steps of Xavier heading upstairs a vague smile began to form as she let the blood drained severed arm of Pias fall to the ground.

Like a silent breeze she drifted across the empty square until her diminutive and dainty figure came to the side of the Vine's front door. She leaned gently forward there, letting the pulsing muscles of each mans heart that was still on the first floor settle distinctly to her ears and she listened as Bucren spoke with the gypsies back in the kitchen.

If they knew where Arik was they weren't saying and if there was a plan they didn't seem interested in sharing theirs. One of the gypsy's stole a quick glance to the middle of the kitchen floor but said not a word when Bucren questioned about potential exits. In the heat of the moment the gesture of his gaze to a hidden door set into the floor of the kitchen was lost to the outlander as he concentrated on setting the searing hot edge of his blade to the bleeding stump of Pias's arm. During the whole exchange, Fayne who was the senior most man amongst the lot of gypsies that ran things at the Vine was the only one to speak up. Simply offering with an irate spit towards the ground as Bucren went back into the tavern hall. "You worry about yours, we'll worry about ours."

The door to the kitchen suddenly slammed shut not long after Bucren had gotten finished blockading the front door and had found himself back behind the bar with one of the very finest vintages that the Vine had to enjoy. Off in the corner of the tavern the sword that Ismark had left leaning up against the wall fell to floor from the jolt of the door being slammed shut. Candle light briefly flashed across a portion of the expertly crafted blade that had come free from its scabbard. The pure silver of that sharpened short sword reflected the candlelight perfectly.

The lock to the kitchen door clicked and before Bucren could of done much the team of gypsy's in the kitchen had slid a heavy pantry cabinet in front of the door. There was the sound of something thudding as the small team of gypsy's descended down into the cellar through the well oiled hidden door in the floor of the kitchen. Down in the security of the cellar they made sure to bar the hidden door before joining Arik at the entrance to the tunnel which was behind a false cabinet. From there they would be making their way to a nearby safe house not connected with the tavern proper.

She smiled from the other side of the door while she listened to that lone heart beat as the white mists of the fog began to gently gush under the front door of the Vine. As they slowly crept beneath the entry and slipped past the abrupt barricades her sultry yet sinister voice spoke with a hiss from just outside the front door. "You've been left all alone." Like a steady march of army ants the fog continued to creep across the floor boards obscuring everything beneath them. Even Ismark's blade that had clattered to the floor was swallowed up by the ever approaching carpet of fog. The candles on the tables started to waft about, even the flames from the small blaze in the fireplace seemed to begin to flicker and fade.

"So I'll take you instead, outlander." The voice came from the fog which was turning into a hue of sickly venomous green that was now passing beneath the doorway. The clouds of grey that covered the floor began to rise, diminishing as they reached towards the ceiling. In the midst of it all a familiar slender figure bathed in a pearly white nightgown stained with fresh blood began to form from out of the mysterious green mists had gathered before the door. "Come to Catrinel, I'll take you away from all of this torment and satiate your darkest desires while you feed mine."

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Elrick's askew head looked over the bookshelf with it's soulless black and oil oozing sockets. There was something to this shelf and he knew as if by instinct that his quarry would be here. But despite how right the feeling was, how he knew Ireena would be brought here if she was in grave danger, he could not recall how the sturdy bookshelf before him was opened. Frustration, anger, and a measure of undeniable rage started to overwhelm every fiber of Elrick's thoughts as he pounded a fist against the obstruction that tormented him.

He would pound this bookshelf to pieces if he had too and with blows that held little regard for his own well being undead creature that Elrick had become began to wail with his fists against the bookshelf. Tomes and trinkets went flying from the sturdy structure but before Elrick could make much progress against the barricade it came flying open.

The zombie stumbled back, knocked off balance by the movement of the bookcase as Ireena and Andrei burst from out of hiding. His haunting voice chased after the pair long before the monster itself recovered enough to pursue. "Come back to me Ireena! You are not to leave this manor!" Elrick's footsteps quickly followed after his voice as the zombie showed a surprisingly nimble burst of speed.

Down the steps they fled, passing through the entry parlor of the dark and shadow manor. The pace kept by their pursuer seemed to have not faltered one bit as he screamed. "You are not to leave! Ireena!" Down through the tight spiral staircase they went and if it was not for the torch grabbed up by Andrei at the top of those steps they would of stumbled into the darkness of the cellar. Ireena was able to slam the door at the top of the stairs shut behind them and made sure it was locked before she followed after Andrei down the stairs and into the wine cellar.

The smell of mold and mildew filled the damp air of the cellar as the pair looked through the fluttering light of the torch towards the array of wide kegs laid upon their sides in a series of alcoves. The face of the third was false and would lead them north via a brick lined tunnel that exited into the basement of the Burgomaster's guest house. As they made their way for the exit the sound of splintering wood was heard from up the tightly spun spiral stairs. Elrick had found an axe, and he was starting to hack his way through the door.
 
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She appeared again. Pale blue eyes haunting. Flesh clinging to her bones. Bruises masking her once-tanned skin. "Patrina. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't want this to happen. I just wanted to get you out of this shithole." Any of the normal musicality of Theodosia Zima's voice was pushed out by the sheer stench of desperation in her voice. Yet her words did nothing to assuage the haunting, near-ethereal appearance of Patrina.

Instead, Patrina advanced towards Teo in the inky blackness, almost hovering towards the panicked young gypsy. Teo frantically struggled backwards, tripping over herself this way and that, her body failing her in her most desperate hours. Patrina lifted a hand and the elegant and flowy trappings of gypsy-hood turned against young Teo and she was pulled upwards. Tendrils of cloth wrapped around her form, twisting her limbs this way and that, their smothering embrace tightening around the nubile and slender body of her friend. Teo let out blood curdling screams, her struggles slowly ceasing as her bindings drew tighter and tighter. Patrina's face remained blank, though Teo swore she could have picked out a grin amidst the indifference of her friend's expression.

"Patrina! Let me go! Please! I'm sorry! I don't know what to do to make this right!" Before Teo could continue pleading, Patrina lunged forward. At first, she had the countenance and appearance of a vampire. Long fangs jutted out and her mouth opened wide as if Teo was her next meal. Patrina's jaw continued to unhinge, though, and it soon reached an impossible width, even for a vampire. At that point, Patrina's bruised body went completely translucent, her form morphing into some ethereal horror.

Though that figure of Patrina was only there for a few brief moments, the image was forever burned into Teo's mind. Maggots crawled across the skin of the figure, each as translucent as their host. Decaying clumps of flesh hung from the exposed portions of bone, and the tattered and bloodied remains of a gypsy garment clung from the rest of her. Teo screamed as the being lunged at her.

Teo awoke with a start. She was drenched with sweat. She took a few deep breaths and steadied herself. The dreams had never ceased since the death of her friend. Sometimes they would lie in wait for days or weeks even, giving Teo a false sense of security before dashing it with another terrifying vision. She sighed and took another deep breath, wondering if Patrina would ever truly be dead, or if her mistake would truly haunt her until her grave. Barovia certainly seemed the place for such a fate.

Teo wasn't able to contemplate the thought much further, as she heard loud commotions in the tavern both upstairs and downstairs. Drunken behavior was nothing new in Barovia - when you lived in such a miserable and precarious town. However, it was most often reserved to the occasional brawl or drunken romp. This was far beyond that - she doubted Arik would have let things this far out of his control.

She rose to her feet and pulled on her street clothes. Layers of flowing, dully-colored material was now draped over her slender frame. Her tattoos and the various assortment of rings and other jewelries couldn't have given her away as a Gypsy more. She stepped outside of her room and was immediately greeted with a scene. Upstairs and down the hall, she heard a commotion inside one of the rooms. From the sound of things, there were at least three people in the room, though she couldn't be certain.

She briskly walked down the stairs and saw an absolute shit show. Someone had opened the god damn door at night, though luckily someone else had the sense to barricade the cocksucking thing. She cursed under her breath. A vampire pooled up from the mist and was staring intently at one of the patrons of the bar. She counted her blessings that it was not focused on her and headed back up the stairs. She didn't bother looking for Arik. She knew her "friends" well enough. They had bolted the moment things had gone south without a second thought for her. She would have done the same.

She walked to the room upstairs, ignoring the gravity of whatever conversation had been going on between the figures inside. She recognized the voice of Ismark, but had no clue in the world who the others were. She could tell Ismark was uncomfortable by the hesitation in his voice. Perhaps they were prostitutes. It had been a while since merchants of flesh had been desperate enough to visit Barovia. She'd take any help she could get, at the moment. Night time made allies of them all, and she had no desire to end up on the menu of the campire down below. She could hear another man calling for one of the two girls, though she was unsure if they could hear him or were even paying attention.

She calmly but firmly rapped on the door and in the loudest voice she dare muster added "Some idiot opened the door and now there's a vampire below and who knows what else down there. If those are your friends, they might not be for much longer" Teo added calmly, though her hand rested at her hip, ready at a moment's notice to reach for the dagger concealed in her waistband. "Any plans?" she asked with her voice raising a few octaves, hoping desperately for one of them to answer her plea.
 
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Katya was far from impressed with Ishmark so far. From the stench of his winesoaked belch to the sad half finished sigar. The remark about not intending to be near any one of them when 'the Devil came to take them' gave him away. This man was drinking away his fear, trying to hide with disdain and arrogance. It was also the most interesting thing he had said so far. Hmm.. The devil? Who was the Devil of Barovia? And why he was interested in Ireena and her daughters? Ishmark seemed convinced she was their mother. Not that Katya was going to trust his word for it. A man whose winelevels still sloshed behind his eyeballs. Just when she was about to pose her questions he added something about his father's warning not reaching them. Bucren had mentioned he was the Burgemaster's son. So.. the letter telling them to stay away, that must have been the warning.

Then Xavier's voice came from the room next to them, calling out for Esperanza. Katya rolled her eyes and looked at her doppelganger. He just didn't know how to leave his charge alone, did he? The timing couldn't be worse. Before she could make up her mind whether it'd be quicker to alert him to where they were, or just ignore him, there was a knock on the door. Caught on quickly, hadn't he?

With a sigh, she moved towards the door. Hesitating once the voice coming from behind it was a woman's voice. So not Xavier then.. They hadn't seen any other women in the tavern so far. At the mention of the word vampire Katya looked at Esperanza again. The urgency in the voice sounded real enough and Ishmark had been trying to assuage his fear with garlic. Could this be real? What kind of nightmare town had they come to? She palmed her knife, just in case. Quickly Katya pulled the door open to find herself face to face with a girl not much older than she was. There was nothing in the girl's expression that even remotely spoke of humor or even jest. "Are you serious?" She blurted out her primary reaction. "There's a vampire downstairs?" So, that's what all the commotion had been.. To think all they'd been doing was break into a drunk man's lockbox.

"Where's everyone else?" It hadn't been super crowded downstairs, but there certainly had been more than one man.
 
Xavier had been so startled to find the room empty that he barely gave thought to simply listening for them, so he had missed any hint of conversation from the room next door. The rap at the door, however was enough to grab his attention. He made a bee line for the door but he wasn't about to be taken by surprise again. He had been a trusting fool last time and he wasn't about to do that again, even for a lady, perhaps especially for a lady. This time as he opened the door his sword was drawn and ready. At the same time Katya had opened the neighboring door, he glanced at her, a brief look of annoyance but he returned his focus to the gypsy girl. "Show me your teeth or lose that pretty head of yours." He told her, hoping that Bucren's methods of killing vampires was accurate. The aroma of garlic, body odor, and stale cigar seemed to emanate from the open door containing the twins and a drunken Ishmark.

He kept his eyes on the beautiful gypsy girl, her beauty only making him more suspicious of her, but hissed at Katya. "I thought I told you not to open the door for anyone but me." Though he had no time for such lectures if what this girl said was true. He had promised Bucren he would not abandon him so readily but he had to be sure this wasn't another vampire. "Get some of that garlic and test her." He demanded of Katya, he was certain she was clever enough to catch on, but only if she was convinced. "She isn't making the vampire story up I'm afraid."

Once satisfied he wasn't allowing another vampire into the room with them he physically shoved the new girl into the room with the others. "This time, don't open that door for anyone but me." He warned then turned towards the stairs, hoping they would listen this time but he had his doubts. Part of him wished to have Esperanza's blade to back him up but that was a selfish thought and he felt ashamed for even thinking it. He went down the stairs with more caution than he had climbed them. He had a fleeting thought about what happened to the 10 minutes the vampire had promised, then scolded himself for putting any faith into the word of a vampire. So many things didn't make sense but he might have time to think about all that if he survived the next few moments.

The first thing he noticed was the mist along the floor then the pale beauty silently approaching Bucren with an almost casual grace, as if she had all the time in the world. The door remained intact, another puzzle for another time. She was too close to Bucren for him to intervene, at least physically, so he decided to do some taunting of his own. "You don't want him you Devil's whore, his blood is poison, I can practically smell the infection from here." He said with more bravado than he felt at the moment. He had already begun to think that he had fucked things up beyond repair and he would soon die and his charge soon after, his entire purpose in life coming to naught. He pinned much of his hope on Bucren, that he might be equipped to kill this creature if she were distracted enough. He crossed himself once more and pulled a holy symbol out from under his shirt, it was perhaps a futile gesture, but he felt it a talisman to stiffen his resolve. "Come take mine if you dare." Pias' blood on her dress showed in sharp contrast to her pale features, a reminder that this bitch was truly blood thirsty. His chivalry had prevented him from striking her at the door, the blood stain would make it much less likely he would have such reservations again.
 
The gypsies as usual were blunt with their attitudes and intentions. Each for themselves. Bucren could only stand there with some measure of astonishment as the small group moved into the other room. It wasn’t long before something heavy was set by the door. Bucren just stared at it, feeling an urge to recklessly bulrush the door with his shoulder to burst threw and demand what was wrong with those fools. They were literally leaving him and the others to die. “Cowardly bastards. Go hide.” He snorted at the door and turned back to his own situation. Alone. That advice wasn’t so bad now that he thought about it.

Bucren had did what he could in preparation for the long siege that was to follow. That vampire had her eyes set on them and he could only ignore her for so long before things would come to a head. This tavern was not the place he would like to be in when going face to face with a bloodsucker. It’s public nature meant that vampires weren’t restrained by the old adage that they could not enter anywhere without an invitation. This structure sat under an open door rule that didn’t restrict them. He had bare seconds to prepare and hope for some sort of miracle if strength of arms could not prevail him this time.

Where were the others? They were safe within their own barricades or hideouts, and Bucren thought why he should not be ad well, in his own house not far from this place. How could he get there? And he didn’t feel right about abandoning the others. He was better than that. And they all had better chances sticking together. But maybe he could convince them to head there, if they might risk a running battle in the streets or something. There was no time to plot that though.

Standing by the door, a gleam caught his eye off to the side. A sword, shining brighter than any polished iron or steel might. Was that silver? And for a moment it escaped his mind, hovering on the tip of his tongue. What was silver good for again? It was Ismark’s sword wasn’t it? The man carelessly left it behind. But who would steal it? Everyone would know who’s blade it was. Maybe he won’t mind if I bothered it for this moment.

Before he could make a move for it, the eerie voice of the vampire came again, mocking his current circumstance. Bucren turned back to the door, shoving the bottle of fine liquor into a pouch on his side, to see all his efforts turned vain, as the fog crept through, heavily and voluminous. From its depths, the silhouette of a figure could be seen. The sword and it’s silver sheen was swept up by the invading mists but Bucren noted where it lay briefly, before his eyes were strictly on the creature before him as it manifested itself. She was…beautiful, though Bucren fought off that thought. It was a trap meant to entice unsuspecting fools. Catrinel she called herself, beckoning him to come and indulge his desires.

He gave no answer. He got ready to fight, until he heard boots coming down the stairs. Finally, some help. Down Xavier came, answering the bloodsucking bitch for him. Bucren wasn’t at all offended by having his blood called infected. He even grinned at it. “I’m full of it. Bring your sisters too. There’s plenty for all.” He promised his infection to the vampire. Anything to dissuade her and to buy time. They had the numbers right? He had no clue about the fighting abilities of those upstairs. The sword. Ismark’s sword. It might be their only chance. He waited for something, anything, that would turn the vampire’s attention away. Then he would make his move.

He unslung his bow with one hand, his other seizing a feathered tipped arrow, and in the cramped space of the tavern common room unleashed the projectile in a heartbeat towards the creature’s head. The bow twanged, hardly aimed, but shot on instinct towards the head. Idiot. Aim for the heart. But he had no time to think or plan accordingly in that moment. He hoped Xavier was ready to fight. He was going to snatch up the sword. They needed the silver.

He didn’t wait for the effect of his attack, possibly unleashing all sorts of hell, turning on his heel quickly and diving into the fogs nearby where he assumed the sword to be. He thought he miscalculated as his hand met the floorboards instead but a sweep to the right caught the hilt and he grabbed it, bringing up the sheathed sword out of the mists. The silver would protect him for a time. Faith, like Xavier had mentioned. Still he didn’t turn to look, rushing next for the stairs and the advantage of the high ground, a companion, as well as a cramped approach. Was the vampire on his tail or focused on Xavier? It felt like a dozen enemies were behind him, heart pounding, but his thoughts sharp and accurate on his task. He clutched the blade once he got by the stairs and spun, holding the sheathed blade defensively, hoping the gleam of silver might persuade the creature to another meal. A bow was useless in close quarters, at least for a second shot if expected, so he slung it again, placing his hand on the hilt of Ismark’s blade, ready to get up close and personal, if need be.
 
“No. I lied, it’s actually just a common expression here in Barovia. Of course I’m fucking serious, there’s a vampire!” A lifetime of constant danger had given her the ability to have a sense of humor regardless how grim the situation. Teo was amazed at how much she hated foreigners at times like these, though. She looked downstairs and recognized Bucren, though the two were never close in the town, it was a small enough place to be aware of each other.

Then, the shouting idiot from earlier trounced up the stairs. If Teo had to guess, she would have pegged him as the man who had opened the door at night. She turned to the sword-wielding "knight" and gave him the most flippant smile she could muster to show off her teeth under the panic she was enduring and hissed “If I was a fucking vampire, you’d have been dead the second you opened the door. Go ahead, though. Put your sword through the head of the only one who has any fucking sense in this tavern besides Bucren.”

Xavier satisfied, she was immediately shoved inside the room without warning. Teo nearly drew her dagger at the action, though she calmed herself at the last second. She could already tell she didn’t like this one.

She turned to Katya and answered her earlier question. “Unlike your friends, mine tend to like to stay alive. They probably bolted through the escape hatch the second that door was opened and barred it behind them. I don’t blame them really. I would have done the same thing. That’s where everyone smart went. Which leaves us.”

Teo pulled out her dagger and flipped it in the air a couple of times as she spoke, simultaneously steadying her hand and trying to strike a little urgency in her new allies. “Either of you know anything about fighting? Have any silver? Now would be the time to tell me you’re vampire hunters from some distant land.” She knew she was going to have to go out there at some point and help the moron and Bucren, but if either Esperanza or Katya were in the slightest competent then she had no problem letting them go first to give the vampire more targets that weren’t Teo.
 
Maybe it was the siege talking, the endless nights of fending off wolves and worse, but his plan had been defensive. Wait for Elrick’s lich to break down the door, and hack him to pieces as he tried to come through. And then run. He’d thought Lady Ireena was in agreement, particularly after her whispered comment about the wine cellars.

And then she’d forced the door open and run.

“Wait!” Andrei shouted, the cry frighteningly loud in the dark house. Even as he spoke he darted after her, boot heels thudding loudly on hardwood and then mutely on carpet. Despite her lead he caught up with her in a matter of moments, hurtling through Stygian gloom towards the stairs.

Behind them, he could hear the corpse rise. Hear it follow, calling after them in a hollow parody of Elrick’s voice. Andrei sheathed his sword and snatched up a long spear as they reached the top of the stairs and raced down, down into the cellars, pausing only to bar the door as they fled towards the secret panel guarding the secrets of the tunnel.

The door shook under heavy blows, the sound of an axe splintering wood. “A moment,” he gasped, as Ireena opened the park. “I have a plan. Well, an idea. I may be out of plans.”

Hefting the spear, he watched the door. It was heavy and solid, and if Elrick’s lich retained any sense than it would try to chop enough of a hole to reach through. No more. Shifting his grip on the ash shaft, he waited. Sure enough, splinters flew as the axe head broke through. Again. Again. Soon, a hole a hands-breadth wife had been chewed on the door.

Andrei struck through the hole, driving all his weight and strength into the blow. Half the length of the spear shot through, meeting some resistance in dead human flesh as the barbed head tore through the dead man beyond. He twisted and jerked back, feeling the door thud as Elrick’s chest thudded into it, and he released the shaft.

“With luck,” he said, drawing his sword and retreating towards the secret tunnel, “the head is jammed in his ribs. It won’t kill a dead man, but it’ll make getting through the door more difficult.”
 
Vampire. No wonder every last person in this town were so paranoid and distrusting. How could anyone live like this? Why would they stay?

The bloated body of the burgomaster answered that question, however. Those who fled were doomed. Those who stayed were tormented. And those who had escaped had been drawn back, into that same cycle of horror and mistrust. Only, she hadn't been content to get herself into danger, but dragged poor Xavier into this hellhole as well.

“Either of you know anything about fighting? Have any silver? Now would be the time to tell me you’re vampire hunters from some distant land.”

Esperanza pulled her rapier, catching the dancing fire light of the candle on it's slim blade. "It's silver, and I know how to use it. Though I doubt vampires will bother to honor the rules of a proper duel. But sticking them with the pointy end should work all the same."

Just outside the door, Xavier taunted the vampire, and her heart wrenched. He's going to get himself killed, and it's all my fault. Guilt spurred her towards action. "Come on, we out number her now. If we sitting around hiding, we're just going to get picked off one at a time. If I'm to meet death tonight, let me meet her on my feet." The,n without waiting for a response, she headed down the stairs, silvered blade in hand.
 
Ismark listened in stunned silence as the word vampire was tossed around several times. His bloodshot eyes glanced to the floorboards as if hoping he could see through them and into the tavern below. When he realized he couldn't Ismark strode right over to the large wash basin in the corner of his room and drowned his face in the waters with a splash. He completely missed what Esperanza said and then did as he screamed into the water and worked to sober himself up.

The vampiress froze in the mists just long enough for Bucren's hasty aim to have a steady target. With her head turned towards the staircase from the bold distraction made by Xavier she might as well of painted a bullseye on the side of her skull for the talented archer. It gave him all the time he needed to dive across the floor when it sunk into the side of her head and buried itself with a thud into her skull. The sudden and unexpected impact caused Catrinel to stagger back a few steps until the palm of her right hand found the overturned table blocking the door. By the time Bucren joined Xavier at the stairs she had recovered.

If there was any remnant that remained of the lithe woman's entrancing beauty it was not found upon her face when she rose up, straightened her back and stared towards the men at the stairs. Her piercing red eyes glanced from the holy symbol in Xavier's hand to the gleam of the silver blade in Bucren's grasp. It settled on that weapon as her left hand wrapped around the shaft of the arrow sunken into her skull. Catrinel hissed, her fangs bared within her wide open mouth as she twisted, turned, and pulled the arrow out of her head with foul squish. Thin strands of waxy grey brain matter dripping with a dark red viscous fluid stretched from the tip of the arrow to its exit point from her head until they snapped apart when the arrow was tugged fully away.

Her fiery eyes were blinded with rage while thick red blood fled in a snaking line down the side of her head and across her collarbone, further staining her porcelain gown. She looked about to speak but the sound of Esperanza coming down the stairs caused the vampiress to pause. But that was only for a moment.

"You!" It was a single word filled with so much toxic hate that the veins on the side of her head rose prominently. The blaze of red in the eyes of Catrinel gained singular focus as they locked onto Esperanza as she joined the men along the staircase. She looked ready to pounce, as if she could fling herself through the air like a panther stalking prey. But the sight of so much silver held her from releasing her rage in such a manner. Instead the arrow flew from her hand, flung like a javelin that streaked towards Esperanza. As Esperanza tried to twist away from danger, the tip of the arrow cut across her left shoulder before it sunk into the wall near her head, leaving an angry line upon the young woman's shoulder that started to seep blood.

Catrinel hissed at the misfortune of her aim as she exited, fading into green and falling back into the carpet of swirling fog that covered the tavern floor. The candles all swayed, tossing shadows about the room as the mists rolled back out under the door at a far faster pace then they had crawled in, until the floorboards of the Vine were rid of their presence From just outside the door her voice rang as the sound of her claws left deep ravines in the face of the door.

"You my pretty, are going to wish that arrow found your head because when I return we are going to rip your precious body apart, limb from limb, long before he even knows you are here." As her voice fell away into silence a new sound from further out in the foggy square rose to take its place. Moaning, low and tortured groans and wheezes grew steadily louder and more numerous as an unseen host of zombies slowly shambled out from the mists as they approached the Vine.

Ismark looked down from the top of the stairs, his head a soaking wet mess with more water flushed down his chest causing the portly mans damp shirt to cling to his chest. There was panic in his voice as he grasped Katya by her forearm and then blurted out. "We need to get out of here, we need to get the two of you out of here. My guest house isn't far, but we need to leave before she gets back with her sisters." He looked befuddled for a moment before he turned back towards his room. "I need to get a few things, I suggest if any of you have reservations about joining me make sure to notify your next of kin!"
 
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Xavier couldn't help but be impressed with what should have by all accounts been a clean kill shot. As pathetic as it was, the plan had worked, or so it seemed. The site of the once beautiful creature extricating the arrow from her brain box as if it were nothing more than an annoyance nearly broke Xavier's spirit. Only the feeling of others joining him on the stairs and above helped him to keep on his feet, at least he wouldn't die alone he thought. But then just as he braced for whatever damage he could do to such an unnatural creature she thought better of her odds and faded away as mysteriously as she had appeared. It was enough to make Xavier wonder why they bothered with a locked door when she could simply come and go as she pleased. He was struck by the thought that these people were like sheep in a pen, the vampires feeding on their fear as much as their blood, letting them live like cattle until they needed to feed.

As the crisis faded, Xavier's legs nearly buckled. Little more than adrenaline had kept him on his feet at this point and now even that seemed to leave him. He placed a hand on Bucren's good shoulder as if to say without words what a fine job he had done.

His mind nearly turned towards sleep when Ishmark, apparently finding some element of sobriety by recent events began making plans. While he felt reluctant to leave the safety of the inn, clearly it wasn't all that safe. He was too tired to think but simply turned to Esperanza as if willing to leave the decision to stay or go with her. His smile was warm, almost fatherly, he was proud of her for coming and for once didn't chastise her for taking the risk. "I will of course go where you go." He told her sincerely.

As if it were a great effort he took another step upwards, using his abused sword almost as a cane. Seeing Teo again in a new light, he had a better appreciation for her exotic beauty. Apparently the female gypsies were braver than their male counterparts, he thought to himself. Despite his fatigue he gave her a deep bow. "I hope you can find the grace to accept my apology dear girl." He said to her, ashamed of himself for treating her so poorly in the heat of the moment. Finally sheathing his sword as he recovered from his bow.
 
Xavier’s authoritative attitude immediately had her hackles up. Katya didn’t take orders from anyone, especially not this overprotective fool that she didn’t know. He was assuming too much. She wasn’t Esperanza who indulged him at every corner. Her temper flared, but with the revelation of a vampire distracting her, she didn’t get a remark in before he shoved in the other girl and closed the door in their faces. Her first instinct was simply to leave the room just to spite Xavier. But the vampire awaiting them had her thinking. In a move mirroring Teo’s, she drew out her dagger smoothly. Nothing as fancy as silver though, where she was from simple steel tended to do the trick just as well. Not in Barovia.. The only silver thing she had was a chain with a smokequartz pendant. Something she’d swindled and decided to keep rather than sell off again. Not that it would do her much good. What else might kill a vampire? Fire? Holy water? How to sift truth from fiction? In any case she realised they were lucky there were still two locals here as well.

Esperanza did have a silver blade and she followed Xavier out, joining the frey. Katya was watched in surprise as Ishmark seemed to lose it. Screaming his fear into the water. Holy water? Grimacing, she moved towards the door and followed Teo out to the top of the stairs. The sight that greeted her had her swearing vehemently, actually seeing the vampire finally driving home this truth. She had missed where the arrow originally came from, but she watched as Esperanza narrowly dodged it. Yet another Barovian who recognized them. However this reaction of pure hatred was new. The vampiress had completely zeroed in on Esperanza. Katya gritted her teeth as she shifted slightly, keeping Teo in front of her to stay out of the vampiress’ view. No reason for the creature to know there were two of them.

Then as sudden as it had started, it was over. The nightmare creature disappeared. She was gone, but only for now. Before she could say anything to Teo, Ishmark appeared right next to her, completely soaked. His wet, shaking hand gripped her arm tightly telling them they needed to get out of there, especially the twins. Katya’s eyes narrowed slightly at him. Not that she was going to look a gift hideout in the mouth, but.. “I thought you intended to be far away from us when the Devil came to take us?”

The wolves had quieted down. Something apparently worse roaming through the streets of Barovia, coming for them instead. The safety of the inn had been sorely compromised. “Nevertheless I don’t want to hang around here, waiting for her to come back with friends.” Katya glanced at Esperanza. “Let’s go.” Moving around Teo Katya came down the stairs, looking at the arrow lodged in the wall behind Esperanza. It was covered in gore, while it had only grazed Esperanza’s shoulder. Glancing around the room and spotting Bucren’s bow. The arrow’s feathers matched his, so she figured he’d gotten a shot at the vampire. When Xavier moved in with his pompous apology, she looked at the local girl. One to watch as she had the buttery grace of a pickpocket, much like Katya herself. Meeting the girl's gaze, she rolled her eyes with a little smirk. Then she looked at the arrow again. “You better clean that scrape.” She murmured to Esperanza. “Wouldn’t want it to get infected.” No idea if there was anything you could get when a vampire's blood infected your wound, but if there was.. It likely wouldn't be pleasant.
 
Teo steeled herself and took a deep breath as Esperanza rushed out the door. Then, in a flash of courage and pragmatism she followed Esperanza out the door. Luckily, it seemed tonight was not the night she had to fight a vampire, as the vampiress disappeared among the floorboards from whence she had came. Teo raised an eyebrow at Esperanza. The young female had both a silver sword and the ire of a vampiress. Too many things were amiss for the young gypsy.

She was so focused on Esperanza that she hardly noticed Xavier's apology, offering up a disinterested "No worries" and completely missed the eye roll from Katya. Missing an opportunity to snark at Xavier seemed to be the biggest tell that Teo could offer, if she hadn't just decided to speak her mind.

"Wait a minute. Before we all head off to Ismark's lovely vacation home, hold hands and sing songs together, I want to know what the fuck is going on here. First off, who opened the door, Bucren? And you didn't stop them?" Teo paused and looked directly at Xavier. She was almost certain that he had been the perpetrator - Bucren was no foreigner and the others had been upstairs with Ismark. Before she got an answer she continued "More importantly though, who the fuck are you? Because if I'm going to cuddle up in Ismark's love shack with all of you, I'd like to know why you've seemingly pissed off the entire vampire population of Barovia" she added pointedly, now staring directly at Esperanza. "Can you vouch for any of them, Ismark? Bucren?" she asked, trying to get a grip on her new situation. She wanted a better handle on everything before she bunked up with her new "friends", and most importantly she wanted to know what was going on with this girl from upstairs.
 
Ireena was not entirely sure what fueled her paces. With the secret entrance to the tunnel found, her heart nearly leaped from her chest as Andrei shouted for her to wait. There was a look of confusion on her countenance as inquiring eyes watched the man as he shortened the distance between himself and their deceased comrade. A gasp of surprise was ripped from her lungs as the spear was thrust into the ribs of dead Elrick. "Hurry!!" She waved him in haste before walking through the dark atmosphere of the hidden tunnel. Leading the way filled her with a silent sense of dread. A natural fear of the unknown consumed her.

The roaring of their temporarily thwarted dead friend echoed in the distance as more and more progress was made. "Why do I find myself doubting that where we are headed is any less safe then where were are fleeing, Andrei?" The woman was sharp and brave, but she was still human. Hand caressed at the cold, rough brick walls of their surroundings. The venture seemed endless. Eyes adjusted to the darkness as the sound of her heart beat seemed to flood her ears. This was the way to her father's guesthouse. He mind wondered when this madness would end as she idly ventured deeper and deeper, further and further from where she usually lay her head.

"If matters are this bad here, I wonder how the rest of the village is fairing..." She whispered to Andrei under her breath. Little did she know just how bad of a night the other were having, let alone that the numbers included her two precious daughters. Daughter that she thought she had sent away for a peaceful life, as opposed to this hellish one. Right now Ireena was vulnerable. Feet on autopilot and mind busy with thoughts. Far from paying attention to what may lay ahead.
 
It was with equal astonishment and derision that Bucren watched as his clean shot, neat as neat could be, was simply yanked from the vampire’s head by her own hand, no more than a bug bite it seemed. Aim for the heart, idiot! But the shot had been let loose in impulsiveness and haste and now there was no time to correct it. He got prepared as best he could for a fight with the nocturnal bitch in front of them, before the sounds of even more boots came down the stairs. Whatever the vampire saw in the others caused her to take fright and flee, as swiftly as she had entered, and Bucren released a breath he did not know he was holding in.

Well, not before the vampire flung his arrow back at them, nearly killing one of the girls.

She would be back though. They couldn’t stay here. That loomed and drummed against the front of his mind as if a thousand gnomes were drilling it into his skull. Ismark was there too and he had the idea straight, despite his flustered, degraded look. Bucren still clutched the man’s sword, the one thing that would have saved them, so idly forgotten by the drunk. The others were in the midst of some argument they must be carrying on from above, while Bucren and Xavier held the line. Apologies, accusations, they all were uttered. The typical conversation in Boravia. He simply brushed through, passing the one called Esperanza who nearly got gutted by his arrow, pulling and yanking his projectile from the wall. He gave it a brief glance to see it was still usable, before idly wiping the blood off on the side of his trousers.

“Your friend is right.” Twin, sister, not friend. “Get that wound check. That’s going to be like a flaring beacon out in the streets. We can’t smell blood but our guests can.” He encouraged Esperanza, before turning to the others, especially Teo whom he didn’t even know was there. A pretty one, her, though her friends were also those damn gypsies who abandoned them. “We don’t have a minute, or any seconds for that matter so you’ll have to settle with this. All of you.” Bucren said urgently, looking around at his strange bedfellows for this evening. “Yes, we opened the door. It could have been anyone out there, one of us. Let’s not jump to blame on that, as you all should be glad of people opening doors when everyone loves to shut them in this town. But we aren’t going to Ismark’s…love shack, as you call it.”

“We can’t stay here, obviously. A public place like this, the vampire cunts can just waltz right on in. We can go on to my place, where guest rights is a thing and they can’t enter without permission. It’s not far from here. We can get our bearings straight there and discuss this later, who and what everyone is. Or you can try your luck with your fellows.” He said with a jerk of his thumb towards the blockaded kitchen door, fixating his glance on Teo. “I vouch for everyone here and the door is open, even you Teo, so let’s head on out and get moving from this place.” He sucked in a breath, having been speaking rapidly and fast.

“And there goes that minute. Look, we got company outside.” Bucren said, as he moved to the door, kicking some of the chairs aside, the ones he moved so futilely to barricade them in. At least at his house a barricade would do them some good. From there, it would be an easier dash to Ismark’s home and whatever they had planned after that. What did they even have planned? For Bucren, it was only survival of this night, as it was every night before. Day usually brought very little promise, even though they often said dawn was the hope of man.

“Ismark, I have your sword…where did he go off to?” Bucren then noticed, seeing as Ismark returned to his home earlier for some reason or another.
 
The tactical strike with the spear from Andrei seemed to work, stalling their relentless pursuer at the doorway. Elrick moaned in frustration as he wrestled with the spear lodged in his ribcage. The befuddled creature was still trying to figure out how to remedy the situation as Andrei and Ireena entered the escape tunnel and sealed the way shut behind them. Elrick's monstrous groans grew further muffled with every step taken down the dark and shadow tunnel. Soon the sound of his voice faded into silence, leaving the pair with only the sound dripping water plinking off the floor along with that of their own feet, heart, and breaths to fill their ears.

If there were nightmares in the tunnel the light that fell around them from Andrei's torch must of held them at bay, for nothing manifested. They were not alone though, their only company came in the form of a distant, lone squeak of a rat back down the tunnel from whence they came. Even that sound vanished from their ears as the pair plunged forward through the gently winding tunnel. Time seemed to pass slowly despite the short nature of their journey. Every turn dangled the hope of reaching their destination only to pull it away as they rounded the turn and were faced with more darkness and uncertainty before them.

Eventually that torture ended as the tunnel took a familiar slope upwards before it opened up into a rough brick lined circular and small room. Upon the far wall a series of metal rungs waited to be used. They led up to the false back of a spice pantry in the cellar of the Burgomaster's guest house. No noises came from beyond that hidden door into the cellar.

Since few of Barovia's beasts ever concerned themselves with vacant dwellings the home was typically ignored and left undisturbed on most nights. If it was clear of danger the two story home should be as fortified and secure as any other dwelling in Barovia. But far better stocked, full of provisions and well equipped to withstand the nightly sieges of the unholy that may come to it's door.
 
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