The Birth of Strahd

And so, Barovia was brought to light and life again. There would be tales told and songs sung of the mysterious heroes who disappeared soon after the destruction of Castle Ravenloft. Their faces would be forgotten with the passing of first seasons, then years, then decades, and finally centuries.

But their names would not. The people knew them like they knew their own names. Aubry the Golden, whose deity Berronar Truesilver would come to be worshipped as a light-bringer. The Blade-Dancer, and The Morningstar, who gave their lives to weaken the Master of Darkness. Namfiddle Staffbringer, who planted the Tree of Life that held the darkness at bay. Os Lightborn, the beautiful hero and songwright. Sig Brand-Master, whose burning blade felled a thousand of Strahd’s horrid zombies.

Yes, these names would be etched into the memories of every citizen of Barovia for generations…

So it was only natural that, upon the day that Darkness fell over Barovia once more, these names were called out to by voices numbering in the thousands. But the mists drowned out their terrified cries, the bats began to swarm over the lands, and the vicious wolves prowled the perpetual twilight once again.

And within the ruins once known as Castle Ravenloft, a tree was felled. A hand, withered, ancient and skeletal, reached for the night skies. And a voice could be heard in the wind, over the wretched screams of the death of hope.

“I… live…”



Maded Maded

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