Chapter 2: Welcome to Barovia

As you walk out of the Inn, you see a group of wolves that were gathered by the door run away at your arrival. Ismark looks at them with a contemptuous eye before answering. This is not the first time I have seen a group like yourself lured here but I do not know for what purpose. All I know is that Strahd doesn't want you to die as, if he did, you all already would be. As for the Vistani, I believe some of them know but none would care if they did. They do not have the same concerns as us, Ryn, but they still should not be crossed lest you be cursed. He says, his voice hardening as he discusses with Ryn.

A moaning sob floats through the still, gray streets, coloring your thoughts with sadness. The sounds flow from a dark, two-story townhouse, across the square. Ismark seems to be ignoring the crying as he continues to walk around the block in the opposite direction.

I'm afraid not. Her daughter ran away a week ago and she's been like that ever since, sobbing and sobbing. Its very sad but nothing can be done. I fear the worst for the child. Ismark says, not looking back.

A weary-looking mansion squats behind a rusting iron fence. The iron gates are twisted and torn. The right gate lies cast aside, while the left swings lazily in the wind. The stuttering squeal and clang of the gate repeats with mindless precision. Weeds choke the grounds and press with menace upon the house itself. Yet, against the walls, the growth has been tramped down to create a path all about the domain. Heavy claw markings have stripped the once-beautiful finish of the walls. Great black marks tell of the fires that have assailed the mansion. Not a pane nor a shard of glass stands in any window. All the windows are barred with planks, each one marked with stains of evil omen.

Here we we are. Ismark says, walking through the broken gate to the door. He knocks and says Ireena, its me. I have finally found people willing to help. A slat in the door slides out, revealing a set of eyes, before the door opens and uncovers the rest of a girl dressed in noble clothes. Ismark quickly goes inside and the door closes. The slat slides away once again and the same set of eyes fill it. Approach the door. a feminine but sturn voice says.

The eyes disappear from the slot and a stream of cold, clear liquid replaces them. The liquid sprays forth and covers Wil, the coldness reinforced by the blowing wind.

The door is locked. Not yet. Let me get your friends too. the same voice says. Once the rest of you come into range, a stream of water sprays you. Only when each of you are wet does she open the door. Come in, quickly.