<strong>DM: The Vistani man seems difficult to read, his manner ostentatious and theatrical to behold. Little of his manner seems to reveal any deeper motivation or hidden agenda to his manner. <br/><br/>The girl is far easier to read, her man respectful and polite, but with a twinge of hesitancy that speaks to inexperience. She is obviously new to life on the road, and its not certain that it agrees with her.</strong><br/><br/>As the traveller enjoyed her wine, the trader continued his pitch with a practiced ease, his manner smooth and effortless, the words flowing like wine from his lips.<br/><br/>"My friends, on a night like this, it is easy to forget that a greater world exists beyond our own, that there is wealth and rewards available beyond the drab walls of this small inn."<br/><br/>This last statement drew a slight pause from the fiddler by the fire place, and a pointed glare towards the gypsy, who quickly amended his statement.<br/><br/>"Drab but undeniably cozy. Still, I know of a place with finery unbound, where gold and silver fall like rain, and any man could earn a king's fortune, if they had the fortitude to seize it!"<br/><br/>This last brought a small look of confusion to the genasi, who voiced her cobcerns in a far less flowery tongue. Her words were spoken softly, but carried a surprising weight for one so young. It was clear that she had some experience in dealing with the silver tongued.<br/><br/>"If it's so easy to get, why are you trying to sell us a map to it, instead of just going there yourself. It like a poor deal for you."<br/><br/>The vistani shrugged his shoulders in response, answering with a small bark of a laugh. Though he tried to play off his response with amusement, there was also something calculating about his manner.<br/><br/>"I? In the ruins of Ravenloft? I should be banished from my kin for even suggesting such a thing. For untold centuries, my people served the Devil Strahd, and a blood curse lays upon our souls for the act. If I took one copper from those ruins, I would not live to the next dawn. I would be torn apart by specters, ravaged by wolves. No, better that I sell you the map, and you reap the rewards...presuming that you survive the perils of my homeland."<br/><br/><strong>DM: The words the man mention strike a chord with you. Calling back to the whispered words of your patron. You feel an immediate draw to the map he holds in his possession, though you are not fully sure why it calls so strongly to you.</strong>