"Barovia is a fine village, yes," he says, "Though it's seen better days. The castle's not too far, if you're visiting, but watch for wolves on the roads."

That was not what she asked.

"Where is Barovia? What country?

"Barovia is a fine village, yes," he says, in the exact same tone of voice - and same inflection, same pauses, same subtle emphasis, like a recording - "Though it's seen better days. The castle's not too far, if you're visiting, but watch for wolves on the roads."

...The hell. A particularly poorly crafted illusion?

Before she can investigate him, the man in white gets up and walks over.

"There's no point," he says, "He's one of the soulless."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean by that," she replies, turning to face him.

"...Which realm are you from?"

"North America, if you mean continent. What used to be the United States, if you mean country."

"I meant plane of existence. Or planet within one, if it's an important place. You're not in your home plane, since I don't recognize those names. This is Barovia. Village and land both. It's split off from any other plane or valley - no one leaves and few enter."

"How strange. How did it come to this - and was this Barovia in contact with other planets, then?"

He nods. "Well, according to records."

"My world's only in contact with ourselves, though we've explored a small fraction of our solar system as well. Is it all humans?"

"No. Most people here are humans, or used to be humans, but there's a few others. Rare, now." He pauses, shakes his head. "I don't like explaining things. I can point you to someone who can."

"Acceptable. Someone close, I hope?"

He nods. "My sister. 's somewhat her job."

"I'll be delighted to meet her, then."

He shrugs. He's not super enthused about pointing strangers at his house, but Kalyna's been mostly staying inside lately...

"Follow me, then," he says, standing. He doesn't bother paying the barkeep - money's the sort of pointless exercise their village doesn't bother with.

Decima gestures to Tyrannissa, and does so.

His house is at the end of the lane, where the land rises ever so slightly. It's large for the area - not a mansion, but definitely a manor house, and slightly separated. The grounds are overgrown, choked with dying black roses.

He knocks on the door, calls out, "Sister! Visitors for you!"

It's hard to see the face of the woman who opens the door, it's so dim inside. She doesn't look much like Sulla at all, though.

She observes the two newcomers for a few long moments, before stepping aside and gesturing in.

"Come in," she says, voice soft. "I wasn't expecting visitors, so I apologize for the mess."

"It's no trouble whatsoever," Decima says, stepping in and looking around.

The entrance room, even once the woman lights a few candles, remains choked in gloom. There's a casket at one end.

"I'm Kalyna Ulrich, as I'm sure my brother failed to tell you," she says. "Our father recently died, so things have been... Hard. But still. Where are you from?"

"I'm sorry for your loss," she says, automatically and not very sincerely. "We're apparently not from this realm. Our world was... Quite different."

"People are brought in by the mists, sometimes. Usually heroes." She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Well. Come, let's retire to a room less choked by death. There's... A lot to explain about here."

Decima inclines her head, and gestures for Tyrannissa to follow them both into a side sitting room as Sulla vanishes elsewhere.