Lost in the Mists
Seventeenth of the First Moon, 519
There has been much change in the past several years. I focus on so much I neglect this journal. My time is occupied with projects and testing the bonds of my prison, often I forget. Sometimes I begin writing in another book, forgetting this one, only to find my tome once again.
My sleep changed. Most of the time, it is the normal pull to the silent darkness that comes every dawn. But some times, I fall asleep for weeks or months at a time. I’m starting to see a pattern, with my slumber lasting longer and longer until I fall into a torpor. Indeed, I awoke from a sleep this winter to realize I had in fact slept an entire year away. Perhaps as my power grows, I require more rest.
The snows have been heavy this season. I have spent the past winter nights gazing at the portrait of my love. In this bitter cold, it’s the only thing that can give warmth.
Not that the cold bothers me in the slightest.
Barovia is largely unchanged, though the population has easily doubled. The taxes are paid and the people still whisper my name in fear. I was kind enough to let them build a hospice two years ago. Healthy cattle are better to feed upon.
Darkon still looms to the north like a fat hog. Azalin outfitted a pack of vampyr hunters some time ago and sent them to me. I should thank him for the meal.
For several years, it was only Darkon, Barovia and Mordent in the Mists. But other domains have arrived, like evil islands in the sea of fog.
The land of Falkovia has appeared, and it is a land similar to Barovia. Its dark lord is a tyrant named Vlad Drakov. Drakov boasts large armies of conscripted peasants and immediately attacked Darkon and Mordent. He is as militarily inept as he is cruel, and has been mostly contained by Azalin’s forces, though the militant Drakov rages every summer season. Maybe he’ll break through the wall of zombies the lich has put on the border. Perhaps I should help?
A small domain known as Forlorn has appeared to the south. It is a strange land, seemingly inhabited by gobylns and ghouls. It is an interesting place, but offers little valuable information. A desert domain has appeared to the north as well, a confusing contradiction to the nearby forests of Darkon. This Har’Akir may offer strange secrets and I have dispatched many spies.
With the new domains, there is an interesting addition to the Mists: the Vistani. This crude clan of gypsies seem to be blessed with a unique ability to travel through the Mists. They can freely enter a domain without the dark lord’s blessing. This characteristic makes the Vistani invaluable spies, though only one group is loyal to me.
The prison grows in size and population, but the punishment continues to be the same. Tatyana returned once again, this time in the form of a beautiful farmer’s daughter named Alina. She was consumed by a fever the night after I met her. So close.
My grief was as sharp as ever when Tatyana was taken from me this time. I loathe to admit my loneliness, but it has been decades without company. As such I have taken a bride, sort-to-speak. One of the boyar’s daughters, an arrogant aristocrat named Lyssa. She took to the Change eagerly and is absolutely devoted to me. For now, she holds my interest and will continue to share this castle with me. I will replace her soon as I must, or until Tatyana can take her rightly place as the Mistress of the Castle.