Chapter One - The Village of Barovia

Taniwha tags along dragging his feet like a sulking teen, hiding beneath his hood and embarrassed to be seen. But within the shadows his sharps eyes have keep watch and he has kept an ear out, never truely relaxed especially in the town as this.

Now standing before the two storey building and wanting to get this done, Taniwha examines the front slowly moving to the to get a good look down the sides attempting to spot an open window or weak point in which to enter . . .

Not wanting Taniwha to encounter trouble on his own, she follows him around as he searches for a secondary form of entrance while Shaelyn and Brother Martin try the conventional entrance.

The windows are shuttered tightly, but the boards look weak enough to pry off with some effort. When Shaelyn and Brother Martin announce themselves politely, the sobbing quiets a bit and you hear someone stepping meekly down the stairs. There is a thump at the front door, and it cracks open just enough for some pale sunlight to spill inside. You see a glimpse of an old woman, her face creased with untold frowns and her eyes watery and pleading. "Yes? Who is it?" she scratches in a hoarse whisper.

As they stop by a window hopefully as far away as possible from the front door, Amalthea whispers to Taniwha, "Want me to pry one of the boards off so we can peek inside?"

Taniwha nods to Amalthea‘a suggestion, "Best to ensure we are not walking into an ambush, then we’ll join the others if the others are welcomed in."

Amalthea proceeds to try and quietly pry off one of the boards at her eye level so both she and Taniwha can peek through.

The old woman considers your words and shakes her head. "I'm . . . fine, thank you. Travelers, go to the tavern. They'll have work." she whispers, but her tone is flat and emotionless. Taniwha and Amalthea can see that the first floor is a single room which holds bookshelves, a table, a small kitchen, and a hearth. However, everything is destroyed: books spill off the shelves and litter the floor like snow. The table is pushed against one wall and the chair is tipped over. The hearth is cold and the floor around it is covered in ashes. The old woman closes the door, locks it with a heavy wooden bar, and feebly returns to her place in the middle of the room. She sits down on the floor and continues weeping.

Amalthea shakes her head at the woman's declining aid and tries to identify what could have caused this mess. Is it human? Or magic?

Taniwha looks over Amalthea shoulder and through the gap, "Her crying is unsettling." he says quietly to the Paladin with slight shake to his voice. He too tries to make sense of the scene.

Before she leaves, the old woman says to Martin: "My name is Mary. You know where to find me as well."

Amalthea and Taniwha, the best that you can tell is that the old woman likely didn't do all this by herself. She could have gotten into a fight with someone much younger, but who clearly didn't want to harm her physically. A child or grandchild, perhaps? Her weeping seems to be deeply grieved, so it likely seems to come from some deep personal wound.

Taniwha steps back from the scene, "Amalthea, did you get the feeling she was not alone? Let us head round to the others, let them know what we have seen."

Amalthea nods and quietly replies back: "I agree, but you're right. Not much else we can do. Let's see about visiting Lady Shaelyn's place and resting before we visit the tavern mentioned."

Once the other two are in eyesight, she gestures at them to move back from the home a little so they are out of earshot.

"Sounds like it's our cue to leave. May we rest for a bit at your home, Lady Shaelyn? We are still worse for wear from our recent encounters."

Taniwha nods his agreement with Amalthea‘s suggestion to leave a rest, a good break may lead to better decision making. Before leaving the Monk will mark the panel they had peered through with a thieve’s Cant meaning place of crying. Sheathing the dagger he set to move away.