You unbolt the doors and they swing outward opening enough to let a single man pass through. Beyond, you see the man who'd been knocking back up, his hand slipping to his rapier. He doesn't draw it, instead he peers through the darkness at you, as if assessing for possible danger. He wears a fine cloak with the hood drawn back. His dark wet hair clings to the sides of his face in pieces. You're uncertain if it's his posture or the paleness of his skin but he has an air of nobility about him. He nods his head once, then steps forward, "Thank you."

Behind him, the two other figures straighten up, the archer pulling away from the hunched figure. She, for it is indeed a woman, points ahead, indicating that the other one should go first. Were he standing fully upright this man would be formidable looking. He takes one step forward, staggers a bit, then rights himself. More confidently this time, he steps in after his compatriot. The campfire illuminates his scarred face. He has a northern look about him with stark blue eyes that, after a brief moment of meeting your own, squint in what might be pain.

Finally, the woman follows after. She steps confidently and draws back the hood of her cloak revealing a long yellow braid. She meets your gaze with what might have been an attempt at a smile before going back to the side of the swordsman.

"Great Flame, it's good to be out of that rain," the first man says, shaking out his dripping hair. "Thank you, kind sirs. We waited too long to make camp. Wanted as far away from the city as possible. We'll know better next time."

"Who are you?" Eren asks, still sitting by the fire.

"Forgive me. My name is Ludwig von Graff. Behind me are Endra Jansen and Rikard Vos."

The woman, Endra, nods once at you and then at Eren. Her keen gaze assesses the surroundings, grazing upon the wagon stowed against the far wall. Beside her, the warrior, Rikard, manages to stand upright and still, save for his breathing which comes in deep, quiet heaves.

"I am Joseph Mouzone." Maxwell said. "The man sitting by the fire is Eren." Many Colors flew down from the hay loft and landed on Maxwell's shoulder. "And this is Many Colors, my psybird companion." Maxwell moved back to his spot by the fire and sat down once more. "You've come from Drakkenheim, you say?" The half-elf said, gesturing for the newcomers to come share in the fire's warmth already. "If that's the case, I'd definitely be interested in hearing what information you have to share about the place."

The three newcomers take their seats around the fire. Overall they look wet, haggard, and hungry. Only Ludwig bothers to answer you, "We made a stop in Emberwood before setting out but, yes, we've come from the ruins. Each of us had our reasons for trekking into that hell hole. But now? Can't say as I remember what seemed so damn pressing. God knows I'll never be back." He spits into the fire which sends a small ember whirling into the air. Endra grunts in agreement beside him.

Eren rises to his feet and walks to the wagon. He pulls out more meat and vegetables and returns to add them to the stew. "What news can you share, friends? Is Flamekeeper Hanna still holding down the chapel in Emberwood?"

Ludwig nods. "She is. And she's still keeping that army of Silver Knights at bay. I suspect the lot of them would take things over if they had half a chance. Course so would the Lanterns and probably half a dozen other factions." Ludwig leans forward conspiratorially. "The Knights got themselves a camp outside Drakkenheim and I hear they've got weapons that could torch a village like Emberwood in moments."

Eren whistles lowly. "That sounds formidable."

Ludwig nods. "Never know what might happen with a bunch of religious zealots running the show. But then, they can't be any worse than the Followers of the Falling Fire. At least that lot keeps to itself behind the walls of Drakkenheim. They've gathered in St. Salina's Monestary."

Eren stirs the pot. "So I've heard."

The man continues, "Never could work out how they survive it, being so deep within the Haze."

All at once Endra glances up. Her low and husky voice issues a single warning. "Don't go to Slaughterhouse Square." Her dark eyes meet yours for a brief moment and you feel the gravity in her gaze. Then, just as quickly, she stares back at the fire.

"Ah yes, Slaughterhouse." Ludwig sighs, his face stripped of what little mirth he'd dredged up. "There were more of us."

"Avoid Slaughterhouse Square. Understood." Maxwell said. "Where in the city would that be? And what's so dangerous about the place?"

"Old town. Just north of the Drann river behind the walls." Ludwig says. "The square used to host the city's executions. I'd say it still does."

Beside Endra, Rikard begins to cough. The woman puts a hand on the warrior's back in concern.

Ludwig frowns at his companions. "You alright there, Rikard?"

The larger man manages a nod, then, slowly gains control over his coughing. Eren offers the man a skin of water which he takes without a word and promptly empties in deep swallows.

"Anyway," Ludwig continues, "The old executioner is a clockwork knight what's been contaminated by the Haze. If you know what's good for you you'll keep a wide berth."

"Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Maxwell said. "Speaking of contamination by the Haze, I've heard the rumors about such things, but you are the first people I have met who have likely seen the full extent of it first hand. Is there any experience in this matter you'd be willing to share?"

Ludwig's gaze flits to meet Endra's. The two glance at Rikard, then back at each other. Subtly, Endra nods.

Ludwig looks back at you and, grimacing, nods in Rikard's direction. "Our companion here has been contaminated. Now don't get upset, we can swear to you that it's not catching. But, well, his tongue's rotted out and he's generally not well. Of course, you probably already noticed. We've heard that powerful magic can reverse the damage but, to be honest, we simply can't afford it. Once we get him far enough away from the city, he'll recover."

Rikard doesn't seem to respond to being the center of attention. He sags heavily upon his left arm which is bearing the majority of his upper body weight. His breath continues to come out labored.

"...I see." Maxwell said, his talents of insight - enhanced by the psybird perched on his shoulder - telling him that there was more hope than certainly to that last statement. He made a mental note to organize a watch when people started preparing to sleep. If someone or something contaminated by the Haze could prove dangerous enough to warrant an entire city square being considered to dangerous to venture into, Maxwell did not enjoy the thought of Rikard becoming violent while everyone else slept.

"You mentioned factions earlier." Maxwell said. "I've also heard the rumors of the five big factions. Is there any further light you could shed on them or any of the smaller factions from your time in Drakkenheim?"

Ludwig and Endra both seem to relax at your casual manner. "Well," Ludwig begins, "We didn't much rub shoulders with the factions ourselves. So I can't say as I have a fully accurate view of them but, the way I see it, the mages of the Amethyst Academy will do just about anything to get their hands on delerium. Including paying a pretty penny for it. Sold what few chips we could find to a tiefling named River. She stays at the Red Lion Inn at Emberwood. Folks say she works for an archwizard. Never did meet him though."

Across the fire, Eren scoops a bit of stew into tin cups and offers them to the weary travelers. They accept with grateful nods. A few moments of silence pass as they fill their bellies. Again, Ludwig speaks up, "Then there's the Hooded Lanterns. Closest thing Drakkenheim or Emberwood has to the law. Mostly made up of veterans from the civil war and pups too young to remember the Drakkenheim they say they're all fighting to restore."

"Be wary of the Queen's Men," Endra says, not looking up from her stew.

"Yes." Ludwig agrees. "We got shaken down by the lot of them more than once while scouring the ruins. Steer clear of Buckledown Row unless you're looking for an audience with the Queen of Thieves. I don't know if there's any truth to it, but I heard anyone who survives the fighting pits there will get exactly that." Ludwig scoffs. "Some prize."

"So the Amethyst Academy will offer a reliable if dangerous way to earn some coin, the Hooded Lanterns will be the ones keeping everything from completely collapsing into unchecked anarchy, and the Queen's Men will be the biggest ball ache I encounter in the ruins from a humanoid source." Maxwell summarized the rundown given to him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for the information."

Maxwell then took a moment to have some of his own stew. Once he'd done so, he pulled his backpack closer to him and opened it up as he began talking again.

"Speaking of people one should be wary of, did any of you happen to encounter someone by the name of Brother Terminus while exploring the ruins?" Maxwell asked before pulling out the mask he wore when up to no good and showing it to the adventurers. "He is a bald human with deathly pale skin and blood red eyes. Though occasionally he dons a hood and hides his face with a mask much like this one."

Ludwig and Endra squint at the mask then exchange brief glances. Ludwig shakes his head. "I'm sorry friend, but we never saw a thing like that before nor heard of the man you mentioned."

"Who is he?" Endra asks.

Before you can answer, a crack of thunder shakes the rafters sending vibrations up your boots. "Ale and ashes!" Eren exclaims, then chuckles. "Perfect weather for a ghost story, eh Joseph?"

"Perfect weather for a ghost story, eh Joseph?"

"...Indeed." Maxwell said as he put his mask away. "...I have heard the Haze manifests as a strange sort of mist. If that is true, then this wouldn't be the first horrific phenomenon involving mist. That honor would go to the Mists of Ravenloft." Maxwell paused to let another rumble of thunder pass, using the opportunity to have some more of his stew while he waited, then began to tell a tale.

"...The Mists of Ravenloft are a strange combination of transportation and doorway to a place called the Domains of Dread, a series of dark prisons for a collection of darker souls." Maxwell continued. "Each prison is as unique as the prisoner it contains. Some are as small as a single room. Others are as large as a continent. Some are populated by innocent souls imprisoned alongside the prisoner. Others contain only the prisoner. But all of these prisons have one thing in common: They are dangerous places, drawn into the Mists to cordon dangerous monsters off from the rest of the world." Another rumble of thunder crossed the sky as Maxwell paused for dramatic effect and to take a drink from his waterskin.

"...So should you ever be making your way along a lonely, out of the way stretch of road and you see a patch of mist rolling by in the distance, be wary of venturing into it. Lest you realize too late that those mists are more than they appear to be." The half-elf went on. "Because after that, there's no telling where it is you'll end up. You could find yourself in Mordent, a land haunted by legions of restless spirits and terrifying ghosts. Or you could stumble into Dementlieu, a land of great decadence and terrible deceit. You could find your way to the door of the Vhage Agency, a place of mystery and memory loss. Or you could be taken by the Cyre 1313, a vast, strange, lightning powered land vehicle bearing the dead with all the haste it can muster away from a disaster it has long since failed to escape. The list of possible places you could go is a long list indeed... But if you are truly unfortunate, the Mists of Ravenloft may release you into the first and most terrifying Domain of Dread... Barovia." A clap of thunder compelled another pause.

"...There in that dark valley stands Castle Ravenloft, for which the Mists of Ravenloft are named." Maxwell began to wind down his story. "And within that castle the ruler of Barovia and the first vampire to ever exist, Count Strahd von Zarovich, waits patiently for the Mists to bring him fresh playthings to torment at his leisure... and yearns eternally for darker things still." Another wood shaking crack of thunder capped off the end of Maxwell's story as he took up his stew and went about the business of eating some more.

The three travelers listen to your tale in rapt silence. Even Rikard momentarily seems lucid enough to take in a detail or two. Eren, on the other hand, sits grinning, enjoying the story for all its worth.

"...and yearns eternally for darker things still."

CRACK!

"Ho ho!" Eren laughs. "My friend has a penchant for the dramatic. Had I not seen his handiwork earlier today I might suggest he take up with a troupe of bards."

Ludwig, who only just seems to shake off the spell he'd been under, looks at you. "So those men outside...the bandits? You killed them?"

"All of them?" Endra adds.

"Ho ho!" Eren laughed once the story came to an end. "My friend has a penchant for the dramatic. Had I not seen his handiwork earlier today I might suggest he take up with a troupe of bards."

"That will probably be the direction I'll take if I live long enough to see retirement." Maxwell said. "Once the older members of my family get too old for more strenuous tasks, they spend their later years either mentoring the younger members of the family or telling the old stories to keep the memory of them alive. I've never been much of a teacher, so that sort of narrows it down."

"So those men outside...the bandits?" Ludwig asked "You killed them?"

"All of them?" Endra added.

"Two of them." Maxwell said. "The one with an arrow wound though his head and the one with a stab wound through his heart are my work. The bloody mess lying next to the one I stabbed though the heart was my psybird's doing. Many Colors has the ability to psychically force old wounds to violently re-open. As for if that was all of them, there were three bandits out there, three bedrolls in here, and no sign of any other dangers when I had Many Colors fly over the area... Even so, it may be prudent to set a watch when we start thinking about sleep. It's always better to err on the side of caution in my experience."

Ludwig nods, "Right then, probably best to bed down for the night. We can't get away from that city fast enough and our friend here could use a good night's sleep. Thank you kindly for the stew. And thank you both for taking us in tonight."

After handing back her cup, Endra gets to her feet and begins unfurling bedrolls. Rikard stays on the ground, looking no better than when he first arrived. She and Ludwig all but place the warrior into his sack before Ludwig tucks in himself.

"I'll take the first watch," Endra offers.

Maxwell finished his stew, took one last sip of water, and then began to prepare for sleep himself.

"I'll take the first watch," Endra offered.

"Very well." Maxwell said. "I shall take the second."

Once the rest of the watches were assigned, maxwell settled himself into his bedroll for some well earned rest.

The next hours bring an end to the storm, replaced by the steady pattering of rain on the barn's roof. Dreams of a dark city with looming walls haunt your sleep. You wake to the sound of muffled whispers. Peering up through the shadows you spot Many Colors perched on a rafter. You follow your old friend's gaze back to the ground, across the nearly extinguished fire. There you see Endra squatted down over a restless figure. Rikard's face is ashy and covered in a sheen of sweat. Eyes closed, the warrior mutters something unintelligible.

"Rikard,"Endra whispers. She reaches to grasp him by the arm. "Rikard, wake up."

From under the man's heavy cloak, something slips out. At first it appears like his other arm or...something like one. You squint, trying to make sense of what you're seeing. A grey, slimy tentacle lies next to the man's body which suddenly thrashes to one side, knocking Endra to her rear.

Hissss!

Rikard's eyes open, but the piercing blue which had been there before is gone, clouded over with a dull, milky sheen. He bares his teeth at the woman and, again, an awful hiss passes his blue lips.

Endra's gaze widens in shock and her body freezes there on the ground. In an instant, Rikard is leaping to his knees, arm and tentacle outsrtetched for his companion.

"ALARM! ALARM! AWAKE AND TO ARMS! BATTLE IS AT HAND!" Maxwell yelled as he sprang from his bedroll and reached for his bow. The half-elf felt a wave of shock and disorientation come through his telepathic link to Many Colors and knew straight away that it would take the psybird a little longer to lock in than Maxwell had. Fortunately, Maxwell was quick enough to get a shot off before whatever Rickard had turned into was able to reach Endra, dealing some admirable damage and sending the thing that was once a man reeling back long enough for two others to take action.

Rikard, or whatever he has become, shrieks in pain, falling forward. His human hand closes around empty air as Endra jolts back just quickly enough to avoid being grappled.

Beside you, Eren has sprung up out of his bedroll. His mouth drops at the scene in front of him as his hands search the straw-covered dirt for his club.

The creature snarls, then, looking up, makes another leap at Endra who meets him with a short sword she unsheathes so quickly it could only be by reflex. The monster impales itself, howling. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, Endra yanks her sword arm back and thrusts it forward for another stab. Blood explodes from the creature's mouth in a gurgling cough. All at once, it's limbs go limp and its body slumps to the ground. Endra shuffles backward, choking on a horrified cry. Her back meets the wall.

"Ale and Ashes!" Eren curses, his club finally in hand.

"What-" Ludwig stands over his companion's arrow-pierced body. He raises his voice, "What happened?!"

Eren says nothing, looking to you. Endra's gaze is fixed upon Rikard, tears forming in her eyes.

"Time ran out for Rickard." Maxwell explained to Eren and Ludwig. "He succumbed fully to the contamination and attempted to attack Endra. She and I were able to see to the situation before it could get any further out of hand though." Maxwell then spoke to Ludwig and Endra. "You have my condolences. I didn't know him long, but he seemed pleasant enough. I shall think of him when next I pray."