Twelve of the Twelfth Moon, 347

Today we received word of a capture of Terg warriors ten miles east. They will be brought back to camp for interrogation and execution. Once we have routed all of them, I will send for my brothers and mother. Writing this I am pained that my father passed years ago. I wish he could see his son sitting on the throne of Barovia once more. I wish he could see that I have the strength he lost. Perhaps he does see it now.

I had a journey ahead of me today. We left with Alek and Ilona before dawn, riding through the Svalich Wood on the Old Svalich Road. We raced through the land, trying to reach the Svalich Pass by evening. We barely made it, but Ilona’s prayers made our mounts speed on. Once at the mountain pass, we went on foot through the old paths up Mount Baratak. As the sun sunk in the horizon, we climbed the tallest mountain in Barovia, reaching the summit as the stars began to show in the deepening purple sky.

It was then I performed my ritual. Ilona disagreed at my methods, believing I should honor Pelor, but the I am the one who won Barovia. I slashed my palm and let the hot blood steam as it splashed on the mountain peak. There, looking down at Barovia and beyond, I said , “I, Strahd, am the Land”. There was a chill in the air, but there also was a finality in my words.

We had to stay the evening on the peak, protected by magic Ilona had prepared, but I felt like the mountain wouldn’t harm me. This was my home. I was its king.

Soon there would be no Terg in Barovia. Then I will summon my family. And while waiting I will find this Ba’al Verzi and bleed his blood onto my earth.

Twelve of the Twelfth Moon, 347

Lost in the Mists ignatiusvienna