Barovia Abandon all hope ye who enter the Mists...
13th of Ottyavr, 735
Under raging storm clouds, a lone figure stands silhouetted against the ancient walls of Castle Ravenloft. A figure stares down a sheer cliff at the village below. A cold, bitter wind spins dead leaves about him, billowing his cape in the darkness.
Lightning splits the clouds overhead, casting stark white light across him. He turns to the sky, revealing the angular muscles of his face and hands. He has a look of power—and of madness. His once handsome face is contorted by a tragedy darker than the night itself.
Another lightning flash rips through the darkness, its thunder echoing through the castle’s towers. But He is gone.
