Third of the Tenth Moon, 740

The years blended together so well that I could barely tell the difference between dreams and memories. There was no change to truly mark time in a significant way.

But all that has changed.

It started when I began to notice similar reports from my spies throughout the Mists: there were strange happenings connected to a mysterious stranger. This man, described as devilishly handsome and royally dressed, was reported to be seen at several major events throughout the land. These events were seemingly unconnected: the sudden appearance of the domain Daglan, a bizarre situation where a woman died giving birth to a stillborn albino, the death of the Darklord of Har’Akir, and a horde of zombies sweeping through the core during a lunar eclipse.

This mysterious man was seen at all of these events, and may have had a direct party in fathering the albino. Rumors also said that he bedded many women leaving children throughout the Mists. This gentleman caller appeared to be constantly on the move, with an equally strange carnival following in his wake.

My studies allowed me to find a poem by the Vistani seer Hyskosa:

The night of evil shall descend on the land.
When this hexad of signs is near at hand

In the house of Daegon the sorcerer born,
Though life, unlife, unliving shall scorn.

The lifeless child of stern mother found
Heralds a time, night of evil unbound

Seventh time the son of suns doth rise
To send the knave to an eternity of cries.

The light of the sky shining over the dead
Shall gutter and fail, turning all to red

Inajira will make his fortunes reverse
Dooming all to live with the dreaded curse

The bodiless shall journey to the time before
Where happiness to hate creates land and lore.

I rarely cared about visions of the Vistaini before, but the Hyskosa was a dukkar : a male born with the Second Sight. Allegedly the dukkar are considered a grave threat to the Vistani, so I follow any reports on them with earnest.

The stanzas of this poem seemed to be connected to the events and the Gentleman. I sensed something extraordinary was taking place. My suspicions were confirmed when I learned that the lich was also interested in this poem and these events. I raced to gather minions to search the land for more information and to disrupt Azalin’s plans as best I could. He has always had the same goal: escape. I needed to prevent this or escape with him.

Unfortunately before I could do anything of value, something terrible happened. Originating in Azlain’s capitol of Il-Aluk, there was a massive explosion of necrotic energy. This instantly slew every inhabitant of the city and raised them from the dead. Magical storms raged through the Core and the mists furiously swept through the land. Even Barovia was completely blanketed in the magical fog.

Days later, the Mists receded and revealed the world was cracked and changed.

In this great upheval, whole domains have disappeared and others have physically moved hundreds of miles away. New domains have appeared and several darklords have vanished, only to be replaced by a new lord.

And best of all: Azalin is gone.

The city of Il-Aluk has been transformed into a crumbling necropolis filled with undead. A strange creature that calls itself Death sits on Azlain’s throne. And I hear Vlad Drakov’s forces can freely march on Darkon now.

This means either Azalin has been truly destroyed, or he has escaped from the Mists. Both possibilities fill me with elation and contrasting rage. I would be splendid if Azalin has finally met his end, but it angers me that it wasn’t by my hand. I seethe at the thought of the wretch escaping, but if he could escape it means I can as well.

It appears that I’ve lost my adversary, but the world is new now. Barovia remains for it is the axel not the spoke of the wheel. I must learn what new secrets can be gleaned from the change of the world. Maybe with this change I can escape.

Maybe now when I find Tatyana, I can keep her.

Third of the Tenth Moon, 740

Lost in the Mists ignatiusvienna