Bucren could offer little in the way of comfort or assurances for Esperanza, one of the newcomers, who did not like the idea at all of leaving Xavier behind. His bravery had given them the moment they needed to escape and for that, Bucren was grateful. But reminders of that would serve as empty platitudes and would assuage no griefs, so he said or did nothing. He felt for her, losing a friend and comrade, but such was the way of the world. If they went out there, they died as well. There was nothing more to be done by the door. They just had to wait until sunrise.<br/><br/>Ismark assured him the door would be impervious without extended invitation to those outside. “I’m not taking any chances, regardless.” He simply answered, wiping at his lips with the back of his sleeve, letting out a warm exhale as if to expel all thoughts of anxiety and fear from his mind. It didn’t work. He did not shy away from a fight but he at least recognized the difference between a proper battle and an unwinnable one and the latter was what they were in. But the wait before any combat was draining enough. Ismark had the right idea, however. A drink. A very good drink. Bucren’s eyes drifted between the two siblings, wondering if they might indeed produce this bottle. And hoped indeed the Burgomaster’s son might be generous enough to send it around.<br/><br/>But his attention was drawn from that by Teo’s, the gypsy, remarks. As far as he was concerned, her ilk was partially responsible for this, with their greedy, stick-to-your-own ways. But then again all of Barovia was like that. What had happened in the tavern was indeed stupidity. Certainly a new standard of it. He had no arguments in defense of what they did to answer the girl. “You touched it with a needle. But can you blame him, wanting to forget for a time that he was in this forsaken, dismal place? I know we’ve all done it. Or want to do it. The man actually succeeded in that. And now, he doesn’t have to deal with this town ever again, in a way.” Bucren explained wearily, hoping his dry sense of humour didn’t offend anyone else. Xavier was a good man, but his good heart had nearly cost them their lives.<br/><br/>“He was tricked. He can’t be blamed. It was quite a convincing ruse and even I nearly gave in to it. How long before that…<i>bitch</i>,” he spat venomously, “out there comes to this door, masquerading with his voice?” Bucren then suggested, pacing by the door, still unable to shake the notion that there were many deadly foes separated from him by that wall and threshold, further reinforced by the most strangest of superstitions.<i>They had to be invited in.</i>So simple, yet to forgo it would be fatal. He hoped they were all ready, mentally at least, if the vampire did attempt that evil ploy against them.<br/><br/>Bucren took stock of the room again and its inhabitants. Lady Ireena he knew, by reputation at least, though he’d be lucky if she even knew his name. The other was unknown to him but he looked a stout fellow. Bucren waited to catch Andrei’s eye, then nodded at him. “You been here long? Have you canvased the place? Is there any weapons, projectiles, we can gather in the meantime?” Bucren inquired, already starting to make his own search of the lodgings. Anything metal, anything sharp, perhaps it could be wilted to further reinforce their meagre defenses.<i>Protected only by a common mannerism of inviting the enemy in…how ridiculous.</i>He needed something to do though, something to occupy his time and idleness.