Distorting sheets of rain blurred the movements of the men within the warm comfort of the barn as the storm reached its crescendo.  Rapidly gathering storm water formed small streams that swept under and around the boots of those gathered on the road.  The fast moving currents all swept southward with the faint slope of the land vanishing into the dark and lonesome grazing fields.  In the looming shadows of the fortified barn a sickly and malnourished goat strained its neck against a cord of rope that kept it leashed to a sturdy short wooden pole that was sunk into the ground.  The animals scratchy cries of panic and despair were muted by the drumming of the rain.<br/><br/>As the group made the briefest of pleasantries along the roadway into Barovia a voice from the barn called out over the din of the storm.  "Hey, Bucren, why don'cha take tha night off an git lost with em!"  The disdain for the outsiders in the veteran guards voice was all to evident as his pitch fork wielding shadowy form stood between the glow of the open doors, barring entry.  No sooner then the words had left the mans stubble and pock marked framed lips the large open doors to the barn swung shut with a resounding thud.  "Fella ain' got no sense!"  Another voice bellowed from behind the barn door as the sound of heavy timbers could be heard as the main doors were barricaded against intrusion.  The disheveled and soaking wet goat offered no sympathy as it unsuccessfully tried to trudge away from the wooden beam it was tethered too.<br/><br/>The screaming wind whipped the rain against the gathered group as a single deep and booming ring of the church bell echoed over the village.  Burcren knew its meaning all to well.  Night had descended upon Barovia and that bell was the last warning given to find safe shelter for the night.  Just like every other dwelling in Barovia the Vine would be locking and securing their door now.  Unlike every other dwelling though the proprietors of the Vine would open their doors for a fee.  The hinted at comfort of the warm light that fell through narrow gaps between the boards of the barns walls began to fall away as their sources were doused by the guards inside.  Further into town beyond the driving rain, meager pinpoints of light that came from scattered locations began to snuff out as well.  Within moments after that single bell toll the village of Barovia fell into utter darkness as all light fell away from the buildings of Barovia.<br/><br/>As quickly as the surge of rain came, it began to recede, turning to a faint drizzle in a matter of moments as the worst of the storm blew away to the south.  By the time the skies settled overhead the glow of the sun lingering on the horizon had fallen.  Soon the tumultuous storm pulled away completely, leaving a scattered drop of rain to fall from the skies.  Leaving only thunder and lightning to linger in the rolling dark clouds that hung over Barovia.  Night had come to the village and the tendrils of the fog could be seen already creeping back in over the land as a flash of lightning lit the dreary village for but a breath.<br/><br/>The howling of the wolves drew closer as night laid claim to Barovia.  Lone howls pierced through the darkness from every direction.  The howls that came from the unseen southern edges of town were not those of lone wolves, but of a pack.  Every howl that followed seemed closer while the terrified goat continued to bay in a panic.