He was not like me, so said my instincts, yet there was something very unnatural about him, something otherworldly in a sense beyond his outlander origins. Until I found out precisely who-and what-I was dealing with, I would have to be very careful with this one.

"I see you have made the acquaintance of Baron Latos," I said loudly, stepping into the room.

He gave a singularly gratifying start and jump and whirled around, his forbidding features converted to the comedic by his complete and utter surprise. He recovered himself nearly as fast, first to a defensive posture, then relaxing when I made no move against him. He straightened, settling his cloak into place. I noticed that for all his proximity to the filthy table there was not the least speck of dust marring his fine black velvet clothes. Another illusion, then, and one that was far superior to that which he had cast on the house.

There was no hiding his eyes, though. As Zorah promised they held more than just a glint of crimson, not a reflection, but the result of some cold fire burning within. His focus fell hard upon me.

"I see I underestimated you, Strahd," he said warily.

"It is a common mistake."

His reaction to my entrance improved my humor to the point where I took no exception to his use of my given name. No purpose would be served to let him think such a trifle could annoy me.

"Now that we are speaking face-to-face, as you wished-" slight emphasis on the 'you' "-perhaps you would be willing to answer some questions."

Some of my satisfaction dimmed. A fine thing it is, he steals, trespasses, is insufferably rude, then wants to conduct an interrogation of me. I smiled and said, "If you would be willing to do the same."

"Of course. What would you wish first to know?"

I had already decided to ask a question of which I already knew the answer. "How did you come to Barovia? Was it the Mists that brought you?"

"You know of the Mists, then?"

Of course I do, but then you are not sure of that yet, are you? I thought. "I know of them. For two centuries they have surrounded my land and held it hostage, held its people and myself prisoners. What do you know of them?"

"Far less than you, apparently. I entered what I thought were morning mists waiting to be burned away by the sun, but when they cleared, it was night. And I was here, in a land so distant it is unknown in my own, as mine is unknown in yours." Whatever was beneath the illusion shrugged, a very human gesture. "I have come to suspect your land of being on a different plane of existence. Are you familiar with the concept?"

He knew of things I had suspected for a very long time but had hardly dared to think on. Perhaps he would share his information if I could but draw him out.

"I have heard mages speak of it, but none have offered evidence to bolster their words."

He nodded. "It is the same on Oerth. I have feigned similar knowledge, admitting only to myself that it was wildest speculation."

Feigned? With his powers why should he bother lying to anyone? And why be honest with me unless he felt himself safe? I hoped for as much, though I could not count on him underestimating me a second time.

"Such candor is rare. Does it extend to other matters? Your reasons for establishing yourself here, for example, in the remnants of this particular manor house?"

"It is of significance then?"

I was curious to find out if he had been attracted to the house because of the terrible things that happened here so long ago. It might give me a clue as to what he was. "I will perhaps know that when I know your reasons."

Another shrug. "It was the first structure I came upon after my puzzling arrival. And my need for shelter is not great." He gestured at the place falling down around his illusionary ears.

"The Mists deposited you nearby?"

"Quite nearby. I was able to detect the presence of those four fools and their victim." He paused, probably waiting for me to ask him to elaborate on the story, but I merely nodded for him to continue. "I intended merely to question them, but the situation I found upon entering demanded my actions. But tell me, of what significance is this place to you?

Damn, but he was quick. I must have revealed something of my inner feelings. The problem with not projecting an illusion of oneself is that others can read your face if you let your guard down. This Azalin apparently possessed a talent for that, or he had picked up on the negative reverberations still echoing in the place and made an accurate guess. Or worse, he had picked up on my very thoughts. I would tell the truth then.

"One very dear to me was… slaughtered here many years ago. It has not been occupied since that time. I am surprised that, beneath the illusion, much of the structure still stands."

A brief pause from him as he digested that little tidbit. "You can see the truth beneath illusions, then?" His tone indicated he did not care much for that idea.

"In many cases." I paused a moment as well and thought it best to be truthful again. "The one you wrap so tightly about yourself, however, is, as yet, beyond my abilities."

As yet.

The face he presented so convincingly showed surprise. "You would not wish to be privy to my reality. I often wish that I were not."

Interesting comment, that. Why would he be so displeased with his "reality" as he put it? Perhaps he was disfigured in some way. People can be very vain. "You are more than a mage, then?" More than human?

"And less," he said cryptically. The words had the same finality as before when he had dismissed me. I would leave the subject for later.

"And your plans?" My gaze focused for an instant upon his stolen book. It all but glowed with power to my eyes.

"My only desire is to return to my own land." On that he sounded entirely truthful. Harsh as his voice was-unless it was also illusion-he could not keep out the determination and… longing? It seemed too soft an emotion for him.

"And if you cannot? I trust you would not then try to steal mine." By his manner alone I could infer that he had held a position of power in his land of Oerth. He might want to recreate that here.

"I would not steal what is another's." Ever so slight emphasis on the word 'steal.' And a lie, considering the matter of the book.

"But to challenge that other? Is that acceptable in your eyes?"

"To challenge openly is always honorable. That is not, however, currently my intent."

Currently. I noted that word. Barovia was small, but all I had. I nodded. "I see. But in the future?"

"Whatever happens, it will be dictated by circumstance and necessity."

An answer such as I would make myself. "You do not rule it out, then?"

"I rule out nothing. Nor, I imagine, do you."

I gave him a thin smile. "It would be the height of foolishness to do so."

"As it would be for me."

If I could only see past his illusion, somehow gain a hint of what was beneath, I could plan how best to deal with him, for deal with him I would. My initial assessment of him on a personal basis was anything but complimentary, but he had knowledge and skills I could find a use for, so I could ignore the revulsion he aroused in me.

Though I hadn't faced it in many a year I recognized his kind of arrogance; it was backed up by true power, dangerous power. I could not control him, but perhaps I could talk him into controlling himself.

I am not modest to the point of downplaying my own powers and talents; they are considerable, but I am well aware of my limits. This Azalin, whoever and whatever he was, was superior to me on many important levels-I had sensed that much-but he had yet to realize it. I could play on that point to my advantage.

I had limits, but if there is one thing which I have learned as both a soldier and politician it is the art of the successful bluff.