Dear Anya,
I have always intended that this journal was for you – I should be better about writing, but events have been moving quickly and I have found it difficult to find the time. I hope, Anya, that you won’t mind as I gloss over the strange events that unfolded in The City of Horus and move along to the events in Barovia. It was a strange and wondrous thing, being there for the birth of the demi-plane Ravenloft. But I get ahead of myself.

After fleeing the City of Horus on Prime 193 via the ship’s planar sails, we found ourselves over an unfamiliar world. We had tried to return home, but the planar key had changed somehow and instead of our home plane of 19, we are in 7. We decided to land along the coast of a large continent and some islands – avoiding the city we could just make out. We don’t see any other flying ships here, but plenty of sea-bound ships and small cities dotting the coastline. We make for an isolated cove. Lenata decides to perform the ritual with Kenari and Ef Utan assisting her. At the end of the ritual, Lenata is holding a compass. It doesn’t turn towards the North – and the Captain thinks it may be pointing us towards rifts. It is currently pointing across the ocean, so we decide to follow it.

We pass a set of standing stones that make me think of Druids at the top of a hill on a beautiful green island. We pass over further landmasses and ahead we see a mist…and a castle on a cliff. As we near the cliff, the compass needle starts swinging about wildly. We all agree that we have arrived where the compass wanted us to be, so we decide to go investigate. As we are discussing disguises and cover stories, your Uncle suggests that we tell everyone we meet that we’re gods. I’m never sure if he’s kidding or not. But no one else takes that seriously, so it seems to be a joke. We head to the village. I sneak in with Kenari – staying to the shadows and the rooftops. The rest of the group heads straight for what appears to be the only inn in this town. Frankly, it’s a small and poor place this town, gray and beaten down. All of the buildings have heavy doors and large, heavy wood shutters around the windows.

Your Uncle makes his usual grand entrance and the barkeep immediately refers to him as “Lord.” Kenari and I take a separate table, but this village is so small that it’s pretty clear we are with the main group. Fyn goes to work and gets a great deal out of the barkeep. We learn that we are in Barovia, The desmene of Lord Stad Varvonovich – which we all realize means we are, in fact, in Ravenloft. The demi-plane of dread. Fyn continues to grill the barkeep, asking about the Veskani (a group of gypsies, apparently) and about the current power structure. The barkeep says that Strad is dead and Lord Adam is in charge. Apparently, Adam is an awakened, advanced flesh golem. Or, no one to trifle with.

We end up taking rooms for the night as the barkeep is insistent that we don’t want to be outside in the dark. I’ve always wanted to fight a werewolf, but maybe today isn’t the day. Bigger fish and all that.