Logan was right. After exiting the tavern, it faded into the mists around them, like it was never there to begin with. The group walked side by side; Logan, a couple of steps in front to lead them through the mist. "So, Logan, why is it exactly that we're following your lead? Is there something you'd like share with us perhaps?" Roman says, Logan stops walking and turns around. Patton, and Virgil are both holding on to the paladin's strong arms. "I used to live here. I was raised here, in Barovia. I learned how to navigate through the mists to the point where it became second nature." He shared reluctantly. Roman grumbled under his breath something across the lines of 'that wasn't so hard, was it' earning a disapproving nudge from both sides of him. "Wow! So you can see through this mist, that's amazing Logan." Patton says, putting on a more upbeat persona as they push on. "Umm. It's kind of like that, it's hard to explain. Normally the safest way to travel would be by vardos, which are Vistani wagons." Logan continues not knowing if he should stop explaining these things. He had important information, he shouldn't keep it all to himself, but knowing too much could be dangerous for the rest of his party. "Vistani? I feel like I've heard that word somewhere?" Patton thinks out loud. "The Vistani are wanders, capable of traveling in and out of this plane freely." Logan carefully chooses his words, and Patton bounces back with; "You're a Vastana, aren't ya Logan?" Grinning like a bobcat. "Yes, I am." He says with an undertone of spite. Finally, Logan finds the road. The thick mists are parted, settling low to the ground. The others seem relieved that they can see in front of them at last. "Where are we heading?" Roman asks. "West on this road will take us to the village of Barovia. We'll find food there, and shelter." Logan tells the rest of the party, Roman gave him the go ahead, and they start heading west. In the distance, a large man made structure reveals itself. A giant stone wall, with to enormous headless statues of armed guardians, flanking huge iron gates that hang on to the stonework. As they approach cautiously, the gates swing open, screeching as the hinges twist. "Oh, well that's inviting isn't it." Roman say sarcastically, which surprisingly gets a tiny laugh from the Virgil. "Welcome to Barovia everyone." Logan says, untying himself. "The mist won't bother us once we go through the gate, so it's safe to untie yourselves now." The others proceed to untie each other, Roman has to help Patton after he gets his knots even more tangled up. Once the rope is packed away, they walk through the gates together in a row, the gates closes behind them after they pass through. Three quarters of a mile down the road, a foul scent is caught on the air, the pungent smell of death. Roman, and Patton cover their noses as they continue forward but otherwise all men keep to the road, the smell passing the further they walked. The forest eventually stops giving way to a wide and flat grassland, the sound of running water from a river close by. It wasn't long before they reached the village. Tall shapes loom; half covered by dense fog that seemed more like it was caused by the weather, nothing magical about it. There's no sound, save for a mournful sobbing that echoes through the streets. "There's a tavern not too far from here." Logan informs. The road leads to the main square. A single light thrusts illumination into the square. Above the doorway, a sign hangs askew, it reads; 'Blood on the Vine Tavern'. "Huh." Is Romans reaction to all of this, taking in the scent of some unholy beings nearby. Logan pays for breakfast. The group is quiet while they eat, and little while after that. The tavern noiseless, no music, just the occasional whispers, and sounds of eating and drinking. Romans eyes shift around the tavern, there are only three other patrons; a small hooded figure, smoking a pipe, a young blond, blonde man with a solemn look in his eyes, and a pale woman in a white dress. All fairly spread out. "Logan, what are we waiting around for exactly?" Roman whispers. A moment later a raven flies inside the tavern, perching on Logan's shoulder; there's a note attached to the birds' leg. This does not cause any alarm, or other reactions from those around them. Logan takes the note, reading it to himself first. Patton and Virgil stare in awe at the spectacle, and how well the raven was suited to the wizard. Roman rolls his eyes, before realising that the hooded figure had disappeared. Logan stands up. Tucking the note in his robes. "We need to leave, now." He whispers to the others before making his way out of the tavern, the rest of the party follow close behind. "What did the note say Logan?" Roman asks, probing Logan for answers. "It would appear that my 'family' is aware of my return. I have the location of their camp, we are all invited to... stay with them." Logan shares this information with a look that read 'I have no choice in the matter, and neither do you'. "Fine, lead the way I guess." Roman instructs. It's a thirty-minute walk to the camp, crossing the Ivlis River. Trekking past hills, and through more, tall standing evergreens. The brush parts into a cosy clearing by a small lake. Deep grooves in the dirt are evidence of the coming and going of wagons. The mist and branches give way to black clouds swirly above. Five round colourful tents are pitched outside four barrel-topped wagons, equally colourfully painted. A much larger tent stands near the shore of the lake, lit from the inside, and another wagon parked at the side of it. Ten unbridled horses drinking from the river. Mournful strains of an accordion clash with singing of several brightly dressed figures, sat around a bonfire. Upon the groups arrival the music doesn't stop. The singing Vistani however, wave to Logan, cheering raising their drinks. Three figures walk out of the larger tent; an old woman, a woman that looks to be in her fifties, and a man around the same age. The couple dressed in bright reds, oranges, and browns. Covered in jewels, and gemstones. The younger woman rushes over to Logan, he lets her come, and she embraces him. "My son, oh my sweet baby." She cries. "I'm home mother." Logan says, keeping himself from choking up in front of his party, but hugging his mother still. The man strolls up; strong build, black hair tied back, and scruffy facial hair. His presence makes Virgil nervous, hiding a little behind Roman. "Logan." His voice booms. Logan looks up at his father. The man intimidating façade cracks, revealing a cheerful smile. "Wel-welcome home, son." His voice cracks. "Father?" "We've missed you so much" His mother says, letting go of her boy. His father coming in for a brief bear hug. "I'm sorry that I had to leave so suddenly, and for so long." Logan speaks lowly. Guilty from the pain he must have caused them all those years. "It's okay, dear." His mother takes her sons hand. Everybody gets settled, and introduces. Patton takes a shine to the musicians around the campfire, and they offer up a spot for him to join in. The celebrations don't even as dusk comes.