Even with the briefest of glances at the crumpled letter that was in Esperanza's hands it was obvious that the letters were crafted by two different authors.  Where Katya's was gracefully wrought in smooth flowing lines upon a rich parchment, the beaten down letter in Esperanza's hands was penned with a noticeable tremble and upon a lesser grade of paper.  In the brief moment it would be easy for Esperanza to likewise steal a glance at the eloquently scribed letter in Katya's hands before the group set out at a brisk pace down the muddy road while the rain fell in a incessant chilling drizzle.<br/><br/>As the ancient gates of Barovia were left behind the mists that had plagued the groups every step began to thin and ultimately dispersed, perhaps being absorbed into the surrounding dampness.  Thick and long reeds and grasses reached like seeking fingers into the fringes of the muddy trail.  In the fading sun light high and jagged mountains were revealed to the north as the obscuring fog lifted away.  Their slopes were hidden beneath the tops of the towering pines that dominated the Svalich Woods.  Off in the distance a deep and heavy tolling bell echoed out over the valley.  It's sound was constant and repetitive ding-ding-ding that filled the valley for a steady minute before it finally faded away.  Leaving uncontested rolling thunder to roll over the valley once more.<br/><br/>As dusk was settling in the tall reeds and grasses pulled away, breaching into the road no more as farm land rose up to replace them.  Fields of wheat and barley in the midst of harvest took up large swaths to the south of the road while freshly planted rows of corn  grew in favor to the north.  Underfoot the state of the trail began to improve.  Mud and muck thinned out and an old smoothed cobblestone roadway began to offer a more stable footing.  Cart tracks, paw prints both large and small, along with the markings of boots were glimpsed in places where just moments ago by the gate not a trail could be seen of any recent passage.<br/><br/>Some ten minutes into their journey beyond the gate the first glimpse of the village of Barovia came into view just as the fields that bordered the roadway fell away as long grasses that were perfect for grazing took over the landscape.  Just a few short minutes away along the wet cobbled road a cluster of weathered and greyed buildings waited silently.  The main road seemed to cut right into the heart of the modestly sized village.  Most of the structures were simple two story dwellings with eaked thatched roofs and sturdy wooden support beams that contrasted their bleak colorless walls.  The closest building though was easiest to view.<br/><br/>Along the villages outer fringes was a large barn just a few hundred feet away.  It sat mostly alone, just a short distance off to the north side of the main road into town.  What at first appeared to be graffiti covering its walls turned out to be a myriad of religious symbols to the Morning Lord painted in places across the heavy planks.  Every window way into the shelter of the barn along with the side doors were boarded over.  Light shone from a single oil lamp that hung from a pole just outside the wide open doors of the barn.  From that open entry way the shadowy silhouettes of men and animals bled out into the darkening night from the warmly lit interior.  A single figure stood under the open barn doors, peering outside towards the south towards another figure in the fields several hundred feet away to the south of the barn.<br/><br/>A lean and lanky figure was busy wrestling with a stubborn cow that refused to budge.  Desperate pleas and curses fought against the roar of thunder that swept over the valley.  But as his eyes caught sight of the trio of strangers approaching down the road his shouts went silent.  For a moment he stared in frozen disbelief before the howling of wolves broke over the valley from seemingly every direction.  With one last tug on his lead the stubborn cow relented as he quickly began to lead the animal back to the waiting open doors of the barn.<br/><br/>A crack of lightning split across the cloudy skies that churned above, briefly granting view of a nearby mountain peak that towered over the village's north west edge.  The unmistakable black shrouded shape of a castle with spires that seemed intent to pierce the skies like they were spears came into view and just as quickly vanished as darkness fell around its form again.  The winds howled and the rain began to strengthen, pounding the roadway just as the man and his cow made their way into the warm light coming from the inside of the barn up ahead.