RPG Addicts | We Know You're Hooked

Eloric glares at Reion for almost wasting his wine then glances over to lady elf. "No. The only people who are unfortunate enough to try and make a home here are either too poor to move or too weak to survive a journey to another town." 

Eloric down his glass and poured himself another.

Rhoderic takes a sip of his wine and says, "We just met on the road that led us here!"

Despite his annoyance at his friend nearly spilling his drink a few moments ago, Eloric almost chokes on his own wine at the elven ladies comment. "Help this town? There is no helping this town.  The best thing we can do is put our backs to it as soon as the sun rises tomorrow so we have enough time to reach the next town."

Reion winces but rolls his eyes at Eloric's comment. "Yea, this town has been …ah … black spot of despair for a while.  Eloric and I were born in a town a bit to the north of here. We only arrived in this gods forsaken place because we were clearing out an old tomb a few miles south of here near the mountains and we can't make it to another town before nightfall."

"What makes this town so miserable?", asks Rhodric.

While you're talking, the man from the corner stand and walks over to your table.  He gives you the first smile you've seen since entering this village.  

"Greetings," the man says with the first welcoming smile you've seen since entering the villiage.  "My name is Ismark.  If you would allow me to join you at your table,  I will pay for all of your drinks so we might share stories and information..."  Ismark's a fairly handsome man in his late twenties or early thirties with wavy, prematurely greying hair that reaches his shoulders and dark eyes under a permanently furrowed brow. Dark shadows under his eyes and early wrinkles give him the look of a young man who was forced to grow up far too early. He is relatively tall, standing just short of 6 feet, and has a strong physique befitting a trained swordsman.  Like most Barovians, he favours dark colours, and typically wears a heavy coat over an elegant leather doublet for armour. 

Ismark sits and immediately orders two more pitchers of wine.  The Gypsies by the door take notice but you're not sure if it's just curiosity or something more.  The barkeep brings the two pitchers then returns to cleaning the glasses.  

Though they haven't been formally introduced to Ismark,  Eloric and Reion have both heard of him and are aware that the other villagers call him, 'Ismark the Lesser,' because he has lived in the shadow of his father, who happens to be the Burgomaster of Barovia, for most of his life.  As you speak with him you discover that he doesn't seem to be a typical dour Barovian.  

"I recognize your faces but I'm unfamiliar with your names," Ismark says while nodding toward Rhodric and Reion.  "But the rest of you are unfamiliar to me.  Especially the elven maiden; or a half elf, is it?  I should warn you that non-humans are not treated very well around here.  In fact, they barely tolerate Reion but have sort of gotten use to him.  They see him as just a very short human."