"What's better than a devil you don't know?"

"Paultin Se-" he started, about to lie. Well.... He guessed it wasn't technically a lie. Back in Waterdeep and here in Barovia, he'd gone by Paultin Seppa. A stage name he'd come up with. Or so he thought. He supposed in reality it had been a repressed memory from his very young childhood. Though it didn't matter. His friends all knew him as Paultin Seppa. However, that was never who he was. It wasn't who he was raised to be. He has a feeling if he lied, she'd know.

Creatures like her always knew. It would be better to just be honest, though there was still more than plenty the Vistani intended to keep to himself. Direct questions though....he supposed there was no helping. Not yet at least. He needed to feel her out before he went casting any spells.

"Paultin Acri-Elica," he introduced, once again unclipping his wineskin before he took another drink, trying to calm the nerves he suddenly felt. He hadn't really thought this would work.

"My friends and I....we were brought here by the devil, Strahd. A very old, very powerful vampire who rules these lands. We're just trying to leave.... Bit it doesn't seem like his magic is willing to let that happen. I was told you might be someone that could help with that."

He began to speak and seemed to rethink it. That was not unusual. Was he giving her a real name or a fake one? She supposed she'd have to determine that as they went. Normally those that were poor at masking their emotions leaked their intent to deceive, but she wasn't sensing any such thing here and now. How curious.

Upon being given a name, she nodded once. Hearing it. Accepting it. Associating that name with this man that sat desperately before her. Sipping wine as if it could calm his very soul.

That Strahd. Always up to something. Terrorizing whomever he so pleased in his own selfish pursuits.

"Whoever told you such... is right. Though, it would require me to forge a spell. Normally, that is not an issue, however, it's not just for you but a group. And possibly disentangling you from Strahd's own magic. I'll have to collect the right ingredients. Those ingredients would be based entirely on the souls I am to ferry out of here... as well as knowing the context further."

"Yes. Yes it's acceptable," he muttered, placing the wineskin back in place.

"One of the souls though, can't talk to you. He can't answer your questions unless you ask yes or no answers. My son is..... Different. He's in a unique predicament." Smooth Paultin. That was sure as hell one way to put it.

"Simon isn't in his own body. Not yet anyway. He's inside a wooden construct that can't speak. He can let us know yes and no responses, and sometimes he can get his point across, but I don't know if that changes what you have to do for him or not, so I'd rather you know," he explained, sure he probably sounded crazy.

Taking a few steps closer to the witch, he glanced in the direction of camp.

"How long is it going to take? And what do you want in return? Like I said, I know nothing is free. Before I take you to the others, I need to know what I'm bargaining with. As long as they're safe, and we can get home, then you and I can figure something out. Like I said when I called you, my soul isn't on the table. It can't be, but..... I have a lot of power of my own. Inherent magic. Maybe I can do something in return for you? Or I can curse someone for you or something. I'm actually pretty good at that. You know.....if you have any enemies or whatever."