Beyond Nebligtode: Mystara in The Mists

“No minor setback will stop me. Sind is mine, the Princess Ark shall be mine too. I have the arcane skills to already lead a land into a new age, escape from this bubble dominion should be no problem. The Known World will meet its true Master once I further refine my incredible craft. No wise sage or magi can dare get in my way!”—The Black Rajah, Darklord of Jaibul

The Demiplane of Dread, it is a holding prison for some of the worst of the wider multiverse, including the reality of the Basic Dungeons & Dragons game. Despite a seemingly different cosmology, the Dark Powers have proven that they can reach into the world of Mystara and beyond. Their first known victim was Meredoth, an isolationist and misanthrope from the realm of Norwold. His desire to work on his craft in peace led him to destroying the realm bestowed to him, one he had to reluctantly rule over. This led to a thought experiment: who else from the Known World and beyond could be taken into the Ravenloft Mists? Many names both canonical and fanon didn’t make the cut. This included Zandor the Crown Prince of Alphatia, The Master of Hule, Night Dragon Synn, Prince Brannart McGregor (another lich darklord is never a good idea), Ludwig von Hendricks, Skarda the raider wizard and a massive group of custom characters. Even the notorious humanoids of the Broken Lands were given some consideration. Oh, and how could I forget Bargle the Infamous? While only a few of the canon characters and many of the custom characters fit the undead theme, I ultimately chose only one new Mystaran darklord that is truly undead. However, the Demiplane of Dread has enough dread crossover to still fit the THRESHOLD Magazine theme well enough. Save for the Black Rajah, all of the featured villains in this article are new characters tied to some part of the world and its history. And even then, the Black Rajah does not have an elaborated domain at this time. Some of these darklords and their domains come from more contemporary parts of the Mystaran timeline than others. In fact, one of the darklords hails from the Age of Blackmoor before it rose and massively fell.

To understand these new domains of dread, one must understand the setting. As said before, it is a prison demiplane. A darklord is chosen by the Dark Powers of the demiplane once they have committed an act so reprehensible, there is no redemption for it. They have been doomed to a strange chunk of land reflective of their home and their respective sins. Likewise, they are cursed to dwell upon those sins in some manner. In this article, I’ve built on that base with further Mystaran themes. Does this mean I’ll incorporate the Great Wheel into Mystara as TSR considered doing? No. I feel that the BECMI cosmology can work fine for Ravenloft, just allowing the Dark Powers to reach through the Dimension of Nightmares or some other loophole to snatch the worst up. While I will use the 2E version of Ravenloft, it shouldn’t be too hard to meld it with BECMI logic. Regarding Ravenloft, the following article otherwise takes from the Campaign Setting published by TSR Inc. in the 1990s for 2nd Edition, as well as the continuation licensed to White Wolf games during 3rd Edition. Or at least, where the lore can connect with BECMI and Mystara, rather than contrast. Due to the controversial nature of the recent book, “Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft” for 5th Edition will be ignored. As such, if you are not familiar with the prior setting, I encourage you to obtain one of the primary setting books from 2nd or 3rd Edition to understand the full contexts of this article. In general, I encourage you to give the older version of the setting a look over. Likewise with Ravenloft, my Mystara focus will favor the Gazetteer era, if I can help it. I have deliberated back and forth as to whether or not I should grab one of the domains and bring them from the Wrath of the Immortals timeline. That event alone is ripe for creating a darklord or two. I won’t do that here, but maybe a follow-up article will feature a villain from that time… and perhaps one from in between the Great Rain of Fire and AC 1000. Another cut domain idea involved Taymora. Again, perhaps another time. Plus, there’s that obligatory use of vampires. A domain with Taymoran vampires would be a joy to tackle. But again, that would be for another day. Other scrapped concepts include something I’ve been setting up since the first article of Returned Blackmoor”^¹. If the villains are not stopped by valiant heroes in time, it is very likely that one of many antagonists will draw the attention of the Dark Powers. And thus, we’d see a techno-magical dystopia rewritten by the Mists. More than likely, it would run on logic similar to the Blacklore Elves of the Hollow World.

With that, here are four domains of dread that sample some aspect of Mystara’s world and history. This history isn’t just the in-world calendars of Mystara, mostly mapped through the years After Crowning of the first Thyatian emperor (AC). This also includes the Barovian Calendar (BC) for time within the Demiplane of Dread. When referring to Mystara’s BC (or Before Crowning), notes will be given to ensure that it is not confused with the Barovian Calendar. Each timeline will reflect each setting. Due to the strange nature of the latter’s setting, this article will not attempt to convert between the two, as you have a Blackmoorian villain emerging into a realm from near-contemporary Northern Reaches for one. Let us look at the domains ahead in brief though. The first, Vasfar, plays with folklore and mythology in a realm based on ancient Blackmoor’s neighbor of Skandaharia. The second deals with a thieves’ den descended into backstabbing and rampant paranoia. And finally, we look at the misdoings of the Tiger Clan of the Atruaghin Plateau taken to new heights. As an added bonus, I pay homage to Jaibul as seen in the Princess Ark storyline. Despite origins in Mystara, each of these domains can either be found as an Island of Terror (independent domain) or part of a gathered Cluster. Save for Scarred Crag, the other domains are part of larger clusters. However, interactions with other cluster domains not related to Mystara are kept to minimal details for the purposes of this article. Mechanics are kept to a minimum, but favor an approach more akin to 2nd and 3rd Edition to keep more in line with the Ravenloft Campaign Setting. As such, certain aspects may not line up entirely with BECMI. However, by modifying class levels and tweaking alignment, these basic concepts can line up easily within this version of D&D. Should you take interest in running Ravenloft in BECMI, a few resources should prove helpful. “White Box Gothic”, the “Rules Cyclopedia” and any of the primary Ravenloft Campaign Setting Boxes or Books should be enough to help you on your own dark journey.

The Nature of Ravenloft and Mystara

I know that this otherworldly dimension is not my own. This Dimension of Dread is governed in part by supernatural entities that the wanderer tribes, Vistani, call “Dark Powers.” But, it begs the question: how did they come to me? They seem akin to tribesmen that I have encountered before, their origins around Sind, perhaps towards Hule. Their mannerisms and methods are not dissimilar either. But something about these “Vistani”' is uncanny, something that should draw a sense of unease. But worse so, these powers. What could they be? How could they govern? After all, the realm I belong to is a chronicled world. Despite sorcerous abilities of an elemental nature, it is not so easily swayed by Planes Beyond. Other places from my home dimension are said to exist here, plucked from time itself. Time is not normal here, as it too operates on the same anomalous exceptions as the rest of this horrible dimension. But how? Perhaps these Dark Powers found a loophole through the Dimension of Nightmares, or even Limbo. It would explain this suffocating sense of entropic power. It could be that a Demiplane forged by Entropic Immortals was built to torture and abuse iconic figures such as I. Their methods and workings speak to me as the work of an Entropic Immortal, at least at first. What inspires a level of fear within me is that the Immortals usually stop extra planar forces from tampering too much in the world before them. It’s likely that the Immortals themselves are complacent in the appearance of this entity. These Powers are no Immortals though. Their reach circumvents Immortal bans on outer forces. A Pact must have been formed by the Immortals to hand me over as their prisoner! And thus, it came for me amidst my greatest failure in the Material realm.

Needless to say, my experiments with the boundary of my dimension have been intriguing. This parody of Jaibul is as much a mockery of me as it is a prison. And worse, the longer I dwell here, the more it places a curse upon me. There is no doubt that this is indeed part of another dimension as a whole. And if it isn’t Limbo, it is most certainly a pocket of Nightmare given sway in our home world. If it isn’t Nightmare, it is somewhere else. And where might that be? Uncertain. And that uncertainty makes this a truly horrifying concept. Perhaps I need more test subjects in my efforts to escape this nightmare of my own. Three years has already proved too much. I will not suffer the incompetence of fools and charlatans, I’ll find my escape my own way. This Dimension of Dread will not hold me forever. Try as I may, I shall not be deterred. The workings and ways of this bizarre alternate dimension remain alien to me. But, they have some consistency… even if they clash with expectations of Mystara. For one, the magic of my true world proves far more stable. Magic here is twisted and cursed, pushed in ways meant to punish, the more morally dubious the spell or method. One can even find themselves hexed over using such powers. There is risk for others to be collected as I have, even from within these dread pocket realities and clusters. In a way, it speaks to me as a more insidious version of the Red Curse that polluted the regions to the west of me. However, there is a direct control. Impossible matters can occur too, as if the caretakers of these realms are Immortals far more willing to engage with their subjects. While Mystaran Immortals refrain from deeper taboos, these equivalents revel in looking for whatever causes drama. They are not Immortals, but Cosmic Playwrights and Eldritch Stage Directors. Everything in front of them? Merely the actors for their disdainful and warped stories. In the end, they know that I know and will actively use that against me. Reality bends around them, but that will not stop me.

New Domains: From Mystara to the Mists

Vasfar (Frozen Reaches Cluster) ^²

Land(s) of Origin: Vestland/The Northern Reaches and Skandaharia/Blackmoor, AC 953 and The Age of Blackmoor/around BC 3950 (Mystara); Emerging 712 Barovian Calendar (as an Island of Terror under Jarl Lars Yoricksen), 720 Barovian Calendar under Nils Ignur and 759 Barovian Calendar (in Frozen Reaches Cluster)

Darklord: formerly Jarl Lars Yoricksen C(E) Human Thief 4, Nils Ignur N(E) Undead Human Warrior 16; has enchanted armor that functions like +4 armor, sword that can damage Constitution on successful hit

Encounters: (Common) Wolves, Bears, Elk, Giant Ravens, Draugr; (Rare) Other Undead, various Werebeasts, Seasonal Spirits, Dread Giants

Nils Ignur. In his time, he was a true warrior hero. With berserkers and blessed warriors, he rode and trailed upon snowy hills and valleys. Creatures of the Egg of Coot, overbearing soldiers of Blackmoor, wayward Afridhi raiders; it mattered not. All those who opposed not just him but the Skandaharian people would be cut down. And by his blade, he was a single-handed force of opposition. In what would one day become Kottsborg by the time of Late Era Blackmoor, his lodge would be ready for epic deeds while spinning their own tales of previous encounters. However, the chance to face a true emissary of the Egg proved too great of an opportunity to pass up. This, in his eyes, made him worthy of the Gods (or the Immortals) of his people. Joined by other mighty heroes in their quest to rid the Egg from their lands, they came upon an accursed point within the northern lands beyond Blackmoor. A tainted swamp was said to hold the vile thing. Corrupted creatures and dark minions fell before the band as they advanced in the villainous lair. The unspeakable horror drilled into the minds of Nils and his companions, but they fought on, even as their mental states dwindled into horror and madness. The terror that Nils experienced ate away at his insecurity. What if he wasn’t destined to be the hero? What if someone would steal that? Would he find Valhalla? A strange otherworldly vigor overtook him, as he shook off the doubt brought upon by the Egg. Viciously attacking the entity’s form, he also lashed out and slew his former allies one by one. With all of them dead, he silenced the Egg of Coot to a long sleep with a decisive blow. This proved to be his undoing, as strange magic enveloped him. It was not the Egg, it was not the Immortals. No, he found something worse. At first, he thought he had been magically taken home. However, the lands proved unfamiliar. All that seemed recognizable to him was a farmstead that beckoned him home. Despite his trials and tribulations grabbing the Dark Powers, he was not the first to emerge in the mists. No, he emerged in 720 of the Barovian Calendar, 8 years after his new home was formed. The domain’s earlier years were the torments of another.

There was indeed a Darklord for this domain before Nils set foot. Lars Yoricksen was a troubled soul who wanted to rekindle old conflicts with the sibling nations of Soderfjord and Ostland. AC 950 marked the end of an era for him, the start of the Northern Reaches working towards common goals. The Nordhartar Defense League ruined everything. His own travels gained him the upper hand in more devious forms of magic, through uneasy pacts with the Immortal Loki, thanks to cultists in the Gnollheim Hills. In his private life, he aspired to positions of power while doing what he could to have agents spy on the other two nations. Meanwhile, he sent out contacts in the hope of gaining support to spite them. His damnation came in the form of an ice giant he made a mutual pact with. The giant would harass and meddle with caravans aiding the other two countries, while he would magically ensure the giant’s safety and protection… and any goods raided. The attacks spread much worry, causing Lars’s sister Elga and brother Ulric to join a caravan in hopes of protecting it on the way to Soderfjord. Conflicted over continuing his plans or alerting his siblings, he chose the former. In fact, to ensure his plots continued, he asked the giant to eat them as well. Just as before, the caravans were attacked. Debris and carnage littered the grounds for miles. After the act concluded, something different happened than in all the previous attacks. A strange snowstorm separated him from the meeting place he used to communicate with the giant. He found himself in a new land. In 712 BC, he emerged upon a large town, only to discover he was the Jarl himself. Likewise, he was greatly supported by his cousin. However, all territories were cut off from supplies due to weather, raiding and more. And under his rule, they endured starvation, isolation and treachery. For years, he did all in his power to try to end this. For periods of time, normalcy returned and the settlements flourished. However, the pattern would always repeat. Rumors of giants emerged from the mists. And worse, the living dead. To try to win the good spirits of his people, Lars and a band of warriors set off to investigate. It was here that he met Nils and sealed his fate. Upon his death, Nils became the new Darklord. But bearing a new mantle also bears a new curse. While tales of his infamy had spread upon the land, they were quickly usurped by others. The wrath of gods, visions of foul ogres to ruin festive traditions, legions of the very undead he belonged to and much more. His name was forgotten, as his story was rewritten into that of an old and eccentric hermit that few wished to deal with. He will never achieve fame in this state and his outcast status buries anything more than brisk rumors. Even worse, when he does accomplish something great, it will never be recognized, and will be misattributed to something else every time.

The villages of Mondenhart and Elvmork connect to the town of Jongersborg, both along a trade trail called Kyrrvegur. Given the size and larger amenities, Jongersborg fares better against the cold climate, complete with more capable farms to supply the area. However, the two smaller villages maintain an active trade through their own supplies and goods, many of which are artisanal, others being goods from successful raids. Rare raids beyond the cluster have brought back untold treasures and oddities never seen within such lands. Mondenhart, while too small to be a recognized town itself, remains a great part of the domain’s culture. Many of the foundational communities who wished to expand beyond Jongersborg were given clearance to do so. The town is the site of shrines dedicated to the Gods, including a small hillside containing wooden carving posts made in dedication to divine beings. Elvmork is more based on economic support than its neighbor, filled with artisans, farm markets and ideal fishing spots. This isn’t to say that Elvmork isn’t a place of faithful communion, but is far less so than Mondenhart. Both Mondenhart and Elvmork are surrounded by encampments. Here soldiers keep watch for both savage wildlife and potential foes.. The villages aspire to create a more permanent barracks, to leave behind the old lifestyles of temporarily settling down. This has allowed for different trends among the villages to surface. But, there are still some commonalities from tradition.

The people of Vasfar are often hardy, stocky and sturdy folk well readied for the harsh conditions of this domain. Likewise, much of the produce needed to survive proves as fortified as the folk here. Skin tones are predominantly a light palish peach, some even lighter. Hair ranging from reds to browns to blondes is common within the domain. Among men and women alike, it is not uncommon to wear hair to a long length below the shoulders. In both cases, it is well groomed and maintained with braiding being not unheard of. The same goes for the beards of the men, which are sometimes braided as well. Garb is often simple, often incorporating furs and hides to remain warm against the endless winds and snow. These adorn already padded or reinforced cloth layers. Variations in both hair and clothes range to an extent that is subtle to outsiders; different types of braids are not uncommon. While tributes are given and laws are followed as dictated by the Jarl, the people remain otherwise self-sufficient and left to their devices. Ideologically, the Vasfari are fiercely devoted to not just working to survive, but to showcasing faith. Shrines in nearby houses are often used to venerate different Immortals at times. When the worst of storms lighten, new wooden monuments are made to their Immortal patrons in honor of them. Likewise, temporary shrines have emerged along the paths between the settlements, in an effort to offer relief and prayer for travelers as well as ensuring that their duties are not forgotten. Despite all of this, literacy is not widespread, often due to being poorer than their Known World counterparts. This honor is often held by Wise Women and Godi.

Beyond a determined ethic and deeply held religious values, they are a people more concerned with their own issues than that of outsiders. Unlike many domains, the Vasfari aren’t immediately suspicious or hostile. Rather, they might prove somewhat cold unless a great service is done for them or should their own people find and adopt someone in their travels. Otherwise, locals will care more about their own relevant issues. Said issues are often day to day in order to keep their village or town functioning. These can be average tasks like fishing, trapping, enduring the grounds in an attempt to farm or other typical endeavors.

The land isn’t wholly alone. Vasfar exists as a heavily separated neighbor to Vorostokov, which warrants one to two to three days’ travel over snowy slopes and valleys. A few villages dot the area, mostly residing by the Oldgard River, which somewhat snakes its way through the revealed western part of the Frozen Reaches cluster. These villages depend heavily on the hearty fish called “Vas Trout,” which swim through the area, beyond often fruitless attempts at farming during what should be summer months. Though, hardier vegetables have faced the tyrannical tundra winds far better. Especially strong root vegetables have proven to endure rather well. Shepherds have also tried to maintain cattle along flatter landscapes, away from the tall peaks. To better sustain themselves, bands of marauders have assembled to loot supplies from Sanguinia, well aware that Vorostokov barely has much to offer. In the few years where snow has receded enough, there has been some success in farming. Nonetheless, village folk often stock up as much as possible, the cold temperature preserving the food well, as well as through salting and other means. Another specialty is ale, particularly mead and pilsner. While filtered snow has been used for water, contaminants and diseases have made much of the populace reluctant to try boiling water, lest the more experienced try first. However, various types of alcohol remain ever popular, with each territory having at least one active brewer.

There are several peculiar sites within Vasfar. On the southern end of Kyrrvegur, on the way to Elvmork, there is a fish pond that specializes in Vas Trout. Attached to it is a vast farmland that has proved especially fruitful in a trying land, slowly thriving into a business of its own. The farmstead, Ignursen Bondgård, carries a dark secret. While the pond itself is well stocked with trout and the land is fertile, these are the boons granted to the owning clan by evil serpents. On a monthly basis, travelers are captured and sacrificed to the serpents in exchange for continued success.

In the Rå Tømmer Forest, due west of the hilly Mondenhart, lies the lair of a vengeful forest nymph known as a Skogsraet. This creature looks like a petite but beautiful woman, but with a strange hole on her back and a tail. While she targets lumber men in particular, due to the growing deforestation, she aims to drive anyone who enters her realm insane. The timber-focused forests otherwise sport sturdy and vibrant pines, as well as energetic wildlife. Many have wandered here to witness the sheer beauty of nature, only to fall into the nymph’s traps.

Many religious shrines lay just outside of the village of Mondenhart. One, however, hides within plain sight. The otherwise innocent home of a carpenter sports a secret door into a basement, to a shrine dedicated to Loki, a lasting connection to the domain’s original Darklord. While other shrines passively acknowledge him, this one exists for the sole purpose of asking Loki for chaos and entropy to spread upon the land. The growing mad cult seeks to capitalize on strange phenomena. However, they are too unnerved to enter the draugr-infested area by Nils’s hermitage. They have remained shadowy and secretive following an incident in 751 BC, when they drove five mothers into a murderous rage against their children. The mylings that arose from the bodies of the children nearly exposed the cult, causing them to go into hiding until justice against the mothers was brought and the children were buried.

In Elvmork, there is a movement to seek peace with the more good spirits of the land while finally pushing out the more wicked. The Heroics Guild of Elvmork has its history in raiders changing from pillaging nearby domains to being paid to rid their supernatural problems. More mercenaries than actual heroes, the monster hunters have begun their own journey to purge the more malicious things in the realm. So far, this extends to Saguinia and Vorostokov. Even Jarl Ravennebb has granted his blessing. However, many small groups and associations of supernatural evils have taken to sponsoring the group as a glorified association of hitmen. Their goals are to use the hunters to attack rivals when they grow too strong. This extends to one domain more or less attacking another. The Darklords of the other domains have likewise grown the wiser. Ironically, Nils tries to use them to cut down the draugr and hopefully face him. None who have endured the undead army are willing to acknowledge the strange old man however.

While not overtly superstitious, there is much more than straight locales for the Vasfar folk to fear. The most common sights to threaten the public is savage wildlife. Bears, wolves, wild cats, elk and more are perils to hunters, trappers and many others that must traverse the fringes of civilization to offer much to others. Some of these beasts carry a supernatural quality, which could be considered divine in some cases. In terms of true paranormal, there are many odd creatures that hide in blizzard gusts.

As harvest season concludes, this is when a time of festivities known as “Jule Time” begins; a time normally filled with well lit streets, brewed beverages, activities for the young and much celebration. While Jule Time^³ is often one of joy, certain horrors dwell to terrorize the locals. The Jule Cat haunts and consumes those who do not care for their gifts of clothing, while the Jule Lads cause all means of chaos to villages in the name of the foul ogress Grýla, an infamous devourer of naughty children. Fiendish serpents slither below the ground and deep in the water. They bring to mind Jörmungandr the World Serpent, an eventual bringer of epic apocalypse.

Towards the mountains, Dread Giants are said to hide in the falling snow, and are blamed for disappearances of those locals who stray from the path when traveling. Madmen tell tales of escaping slavery under the eyes of said giants, if they weren’t considered for food.

Perhaps the most immediate threat is something that the current darklord can relate to all too well, the draugr. These gruesome and vile undead carry the scars of battle and an eternal stench of rot. Heinous and tainted, they lumber near their place of death in search of victims to share their pain. Despite looking gaunt and rotten, they are anything but weak. Should one die to them, the curse brings the victim back as one of their own. Clad in the vestments and armaments they wore before their death, each of them share a tragic story leading to the moments before their demise. Unbeknownst to Nils, he suffers a variation of this curse. Despite functioning like a living human, he is secretly as undead as the draugr he accidentally creates. He is not damaged by negative energy, but by positive. Likewise, the cleric ability to turn undead can affect him as if he were a High Level Ancient Dead. The draugr shares stats of these ancient dead, but are turned as vampires, can see the invisible and can shatter armor/weaponry. In regards to the last ability, this requires a save vs. rod/staff/wand or a specific non-magical piece of equipment is destroyed. Likewise, their presence is disgusting. Creatures that stand within 2 meters of a draugr can be overwhelmed by vile stench, requiring a save vs. poison to avoid sickness. Failure induces a 1d4 penalty upon attacks and related rolls for 1 turn. Success allows a creature to endure for said turn instead. In the end, these evil dead are the fault of the olden Darklord who gazes afar from his cottage shack.

Despite existing in a hilly and frigid expanse, Nils is forever doomed to dwell within his hermitage. This fixture of this domain is his ultimate prison. Few dare to visit him due to terrored stories of a mad hermit who struck a deal with dark spirits. However, his remote location makes it easy to avoid him. This is all the more apparent from more dire supernatural threats that hold civilization in the balance. Due to the willful ignorance of the masses, most are unaware that the draugr threat is directly tied to the Darklord. Indeed, a facet of his curse will always result in denizens shrugging off any association that Nils might have. He is forever doomed to be forgotten, only to be challenged by the especially mad or cruel. He shall prevail in all fights against dishonorable foes, but no one honorable from the land would dare visit him. His domain will otherwise forget him, until some rumor brings the curious to his door. These are often outsiders, looking for trouble either accidentally or intentionally. Should they not be directed towards the rumored giants of the mountain, the hermitage is a viable alternative. Should the visitors not prove to be vile brigands, rather just here to pay the hermit attention, he might feel a brief moment of solace. Just as he had done before with his allies, a dark temptation will always befall him. The mad old man will seek to betray and murder his guests, often damning them to the fate of undeath upon slaying. The act of slaying the hermit in return does not truly kill him. One group of adventurers came close, if by accident. In a fight against the hermit, draugr soon closed in the violence. With equipment either scattered or destroyed, a lone warrior took Nils’s own weapon and severed the hermit’s head. However, without chopping off all his limbs and burning the body, Nils would always return. The warrior thought the deed was complete, however several Living Dead ambushed him. As the warrior was brought into the ranks of the undead, Nils felt himself slowly restoring. It was then that he learned his weakness and how close he could have been. Ever since, he does all in his power to keep his equipment close and ready for a retreat should matters look bad enough. On the subject of retreat, he can close domain borders. Those looking to escape find themselves ambushed by draugr as winds kick up snow to impair vision. The undead hordes will not cease their attacks until the victim turns back. The Darklord hates this as it reminds him of his own weakness. It has often dawned upon him that he is no hero, but he is cursed to always come back to that delusion.

The Current Sketch speaks of both new conflicts and resolution. For several years after the death of Yoricksen, transitioning to the rule of Ravennebb, the beginnings of a vacuum began to cost the security and stability of the region. The truth of Yoricksen’s death was disregarded as a cruel joke, as blame quickly spread. Families gathered resources, anticipating a civil war. Rare sightings of giants in the distance allowed the rising influence of Ravennebb to use a scapegoat and close the power vacuum, by decree of many regional Karls. The public accepted that the threat of giants cost them their last great leader. Some years after succession, Ravennebb helped lead a crusade to thwart the giants. A Dread Giant, lingering near the mountains, was brought down at the cost of most of the raiding party involved. Likewise, Ravennebb himself was almost killed (leading further credence to his story). While only one of these foes was vanquished, it furthered his own popularity. Likewise, more stable trade stays active, so long as conditions aren’t bad enough. Likewise, great effort has been made to maintain and share supplies between the villages and towns along said networks. While the cultural quirks between settlements exist and some tensions remain from the power gap, most citizens are forthcoming about this. Nils has learned that his attempts at attention rarely work to his benefit, further resigning himself to his hermit status.

Ylar (Amber Wastes Cluster) ^⁴

Land of Origin: Ylaruam, Emirate of Abbashan, AC 998; Emerging 740 Barovian Calendar (as an Island of Terror) and 752 Barovian Calendar (in the Amber Wastes Cluster)

Leadership: Ahmed Al’Bashar C(E) Human Thief 11, Karim Asif Al’Merrik the Forsaken C(N) Human Ghost Thief 12, Amir Kalzafred N(E) Werejackal Cleric 15

Darklord: Ahmed Al’Bashar C(E) Human Thief 11; capable of scanning surface thoughts of those around him, sometimes might receive paranoid lies; has an enchanted dagger that strikes fear into targets

Encounters: (Common) Scorpions, Desert Cats, Bandits; (Rare) Werejackals, Mummies, Ghouls

Within the Emirate of Abbashan, a den of thieves began to worsen from a mere issue to hiring other Emirate mercenaries to handle the beginning of a crisis. A scoundrel who preferred to only be called by his first name, Ahmed, led the charge to build a city of thieves that could operate its own independent structure. In reality, while it operated as something of a sovereign territory, it was still run by criminals and ran others into ruin. In the mind of the ambitious, yet cruel, leader, it was justice and a living act of retribution. Many of the emirates have grown complacent and decadent in the modern age. They have forgotten many teachings of al-Kalim, not that Ahmed was ever a man of deep faith. For Ahmed, too many practiced law without any honor or dignity; there was no compassion or romanticism. As a result, the common people began to experience more and more suffering. Whether this is true under Abbashan can be greatly debated on perspective. But Ahmed was far more wizened and traveled than the average thief. For a long time, he was a mercenary desperate for gold. His young years were that of a poor peasant boy, within a family who used their name to tie themselves to churches of al-Kalim. It was all a lie: they were cheating liars who created scams as a means of gaining ground. Like an older Ahmed, they claimed it was their way of getting back at a society that had neglected them. Many painted his family as hailing from the Nithian region, infamous for its own bands of thieves. Whether or not this was true has been contested, but it is something Ahmed himself has embraced to a small degree. In time, they found themselves brought to justice as Ahmed fled the tracking eyes of guardsmen. He took up fighting for coin wherever it may have been, ultimately discovering a thieves’ guild operating beyond the sight of the grand sultan himself. Enamored and amazed by their activities, he forced himself into involvement and pushed his way through the ranks through trickery, bribery, threats and classic thievery. Fear and admiration surrounded him, with mythology building him up as a people’s hero. Unbeknownst to the public, a hard life and jaded outlook made him abusive, easy to displease and brutal in his behavior at times. Before the mists had taken him, some suspect that he was responsible for several bastard children born from less than ideal circumstances.

Regardless of his dark personality, he aspired to make something worthy of a legacy, something that would make his life of sins worth it. He envisioned a haven for brigands like himself to build their own society while reforming for the better in the process. This came about when bands under his control found themselves seeking more. Their time in Nithia proved mostly fruitless, save for clashing with locals without end. In time, they traveled to Jaboor, a shimmering beacon of hope that faces seas beyond. Rumors of a “City built by-and-for Thieves” brought much terror to the locals, only to discover that tales of this den of miscreants proved all too real. Time favored them after this jump, but for only so long. By AC 993, their time proved short lived. Their acts of burglary were not unnoticed by forces of order and the thieves’ guild was driven out. In the lands southwest of the amazing Abbashan oasis, the foundations of a new land were born. For a few months, it was disregarded as another bandit camp insensitively dubbed “Little Nithia.” Karim, a childhood friend of Ahmed, teamed up to create an unbeatable duo of bandit lords. A mixture of scraps and simple homes quickly evolved into a fortified stronghold. Magi, hired by the Bandit Lord himself, created a dangerous smokescreen of sand, whipping around to conceal and protect this new thieves’ hub. Jaboor was sent into panic, after raids began to be conducted in greater organization and strength, with demands for tribute to keep them away. Their reach began to slowly expand into other emirates. In an attempt to be seen as a legitimate power, Ahmed and his bandit lords petitioned being recognized as an emirate all their own. Despite this being rejected, his overall success greatly inflated his ego. When Karim addressed concern over this, this was treated as a lack of conviction and courage. Others expressing distaste for Ahmed’s elevated sense of self-worth were likewise dismissed as jealous at best, traitorous at worst. In lieu of this, the self-proclaimed Bandit Lord’s personality continued to degenerate from the pursuit of power. The bandit hive became a more brutal and demanding place, a borderline tyranny that whipped its subjugants into service for a new empire. Perhaps a more successful Yasir al-Achmed^⁵ for some time, only to fall far more spectacularly.

After much deliberation and verbal fighting, Ahmed’s best friend, Karim, could not take the corruption around him anymore. After years of fighting against the very same cruel order, he resolved to leave his friend. On a mission to end the reign of terror, Karim set off east to alert authorities and raise up resistance against them; lest they bring torment to the land. After several days, a tired man warned Jaboor guards of a would-be Master of Hule preparing to spread tyranny upon the realm. After a week of preparation, Karim led the charge on the Fortress City. The battle was waged for hours, as Karim slipped away and into Ahmed’s own quarters. Ahmed, overwhelmed by feelings of shame, regret, paranoia, betrayal and rage was ultimately stunned. Karim delivered a simple ultimatum: stand down and accept that these ideals have failed. Overcome with despair, Ahmed moved to accept the offer and hug his close friend. In reality, Ahmed stowed a knife in his sleeve for a last stand. Instead, he stabbed his friend in the back. As Karim attempted to escape severely wounded, Ahmed belittled him for his lack of faith, his lack of conviction and lack of friendship. As the battle continued through hours of the night, a strange blast of sand surged through Ahmed’s windows. The sandstorm also cloaked the nefarious Thieves’ City, granting all sides a deadly cover. Despite the familiar setting, trained soldiers continued to hack through the brigands and irrefutable folk who took arms against them. Those who didn’t oppose the soldiers simply fled, knowing that their enemy would not take prisoners now. The opposing force pushed through barricades and fortifications. As they got into Ahmed’s home, none were still there. Both men were trapped in the outside sandstorm. Karim asked for Ahmed to come to his senses, but was distracted by another wayward soul in his midst… a merchant from Jaboor who was aiding the soldiers. Ahmed tossed a dagger, which nailed him right upon the head. As Karim looked in shock, now bleeding out, he condemned his former friend. As Ahmed rushed towards Karim, the sands overwhelmed him. The storm soon cleared, revealing a massacred fortress. And just beyond, the bodies of Karim and the unknown merchant. Ahmed was nowhere to be seen. In the years following the disappearance of most life from the City of Thieves, terrible rumors circulated. The survivors of the sandstorm incursion were left mad, many overwhelmed by guilt and a desire to repent for their wicked ways. It is said that the Thief City stays as empty ruins, even through the years. People from the Emirate know to avoid it, fearing it is terribly cursed. It is said that ghouls and phantoms lurk there. Within its Misty copy, this remains true for other reasons…

The first twelve years of his time within the Dimension of Dread were rife with hardship in their own right. Paranoia and regret ate away at Ahmed, while the tragedy of seeing his Bandit Empire trapped in a deadly desert was not lost on him. His glorious days of raids were over, as he had to contend with thieves out for blood and coins. Years of division, backstabbing and getting ahead by any means sundered the makeshift city state. Brother against brother conflict became the norm, as everyday life was a struggle in its own right. However, midway through 752 of the Barovian calendar, the flesh-ripping sandstorms and endless desert wastes parted to reveal something… nearby land. While they revealed more, Ahmed only gained a little more control over them. The deadly gusts awakened around the domain borders when he needed to close them. But, to those lucky enough to escape? They see what he witnessed. This new place wasn’t Jaboor, it was something new. For a time, this new “Pharazia” became a new place to take aggressions out on. However, the wrath of Diamabel^⁶ became too much for the low-lives to actively contend with. And worse, a little of Pharazia made its home within Ylar. Clan Kalzafred found the remote Thief Haven preferable than the judgemental kingdom nearby. But, in welcoming them, Ahmed and his own bandit empire signed their souls away. While division was no stranger to the domain, the clan of secret werejackals did all in their power to split devotion between the Bandit Lord and them. Sneaky propaganda, rumors and more created a schism that granted the clan nearly half of the city, while the Bandit Lord Ahmed helped to fortify the other half. The sown distrust and disgust nearly ripped the city in two. For the time being, an uneasy peace lingers. Ahmed wants all of his city back and the rival family exterminated. Meanwhile, the outsider family takes great amusement and sees themselves the likely victor of this predicament.

Tales within the mists tell a more unique story, a false history. Ylar had always stood near Pharazia in records, but it was cursed by Diamabel and his own. 12 years ago, a deadly sandstorm was conjured after raiding the holy city. And worse, the bandits had committed even worse of a sin, having the audacity to cut down all guards and soldiers that retaliated against the Bandit Lord… even countless innocents. Prior to this, Ylar had an awkward trade relationship with Pharazia, even going as far as contending with other populations in the desert sands. This relationship soured, as there were reports of Ahmed making grandiose claims that they didn’t need the decadence and theocratic foolishness of that nearby city. Ambitions rose to strike back against the hand that fed them, in a defiant push to be independent. Before the storm, there were nearby villages that managed to push for agriculture, even helping to cultivate a river nearby. The curse that befell them not only cut them off from all lands, but it destroyed the river as well. Few realize that this is a False History made to enhance Ahmed’s torments. He does not recall a river ever existing, nor does he actively remember working with Pharazia. He does remember sending many of his reluctant thieves to take from the city in recent days though.

Life in the Bandit City is a dreadful life. While religion is deeply frowned upon, Ahmed’s gang has reluctantly accepted a general worship of the elements, with small shrines adorned near homes as of 755 BC. These priests of elements are not entirely numerous and often keep to themselves, neutral to the overall politics. The only currently banned religions within the thief city are those of al-Kalim and faiths practiced in Pharazia. Much of this came from the consequences of his degenerate and grim treatment of his “subjects” in the months prior. His second-in-command, Da’Nul, was assassinated after one of his personal slaves slit his throat during rest. Said slave was devoted to a spiritual religion based on the elements. Upon being able to keep numerous guards at bay, Ahmed shockingly listened to his demands and they were met. Ultimately, he was later betrayed and killed in his sleep by another slave. Aymin, another captured slave toiling within Ylar, was a secret agent of Pharazia. His backstabbing only spurred the religious movement further, which in turn was adopted as a symbol of pride for the city. Likewise, hatred towards Pharazians festered. The elemental priests have found themselves able to keep natural phenomena at bay, at least to protect themselves. Those who anger the Darklord and attempt to flee often meet their doom, as their attempts to quell his closed border powers always fail. Only one exception to the rule has been discovered so far. The strange cults have mostly been a benefit to the domain, even supplying water at times. However, attempts to call upon too many elemental powers has a negative side-effect, bringing in a Dread Elemental. Elemental forces of Pyre, Bone, Mist and Grave have haunted the domain as a result. This has led the Darklord to reconsider his promise from a few years ago.

Cynicism, anxiety and reluctance hangs over Ylar like a miasma, with few looking to do anything outside of self-interest and paranoia. However, the dichotomy often pushes the jaded into a side, lest they make up a bitter third group. Ahmed’s brigands, gangsters, pirates and rogues make up the primary faction to command power. Clan Kalzafred and their allies make up the other. Almost all attempts at business are split between the two “crime families” plus a recently attempted schism group. The first two are more head to head with each other, while the splinter outsources in an attempt to bring the whole city down. A general unfriendliness fills the streets, especially if word of supporting a rival gets out. For the moment, there is a war of words and exchange. Each faction wants to outdo the other whether through semi-legitimate business or petty raids on villages and neighboring domains. Should an outsider prove to not just be another victim to exploit, both crime families will seek to win them over as an added recruit. Those within the wretched hive who don’t take part in the politics do their own duties day to day, grumbling to themselves. Many desire a return to anarchy, excising and executing both families in the process. Rumors circulate of another land, one which has the glories of a sea beyond it. This is the City of Temptation, Aljaugasba. But, as none of Ylar have seen it, none can confirm its potential as salvation. The more neutral parties plan to seek their own fortunes there, if Ylar becomes especially treacherous. While most within the city are treated quite poorly, especially refugees that sought new life, a group of dwarves have found themselves too useful to suffer exploitation. Led by Sakhar, a foreman for the enclave, they lead productive lives. However, temptation has had many help the splintered political groups in numerous crafts.

Mundane politics and schisms are not the only worries within Ylar. Monsters, curses and other horrors are not far away. Ahmed’s claims to Nithian ancestry have somewhat been a curse as well. While not quite towards the lands of Har’Akir or Sebua, Nithian ruins can be found west and slightly north of the bandit city proper, moving past Pharazia and towards Sebua. The mummified dead and other spirits reside here, all somehow able to overcome the Immortals’ banning of Nithian memories. Once a year, the angry souls gather to attack the city, in hopes of reclaiming it for the Nithian empire. While such things should be impossible, the Dark Powers defy even the logic of the Immortals themselves. In this rare instance, the city will come together to repel the undead hordes. Likewise, they have wandered through the desert in hopes of dragging other similar ruins into their fold. From somewhere south of the Thief City, ghouls have slowly become an issue. These hungry dark souls feast upon the dead and happily kill the living. Other ravenous forces swarm Ylar beyond the living dead. Conspiracies have been created by wicked shapeshifters, as they infiltrate and subvert the already troubled domain. These tricky creatures are not mere humans, but werejackals. Whether or not they arose before the emergence of Clan Kalzafred, the werejackals have found a voice through the sinister family. The very nature of the Demiplane of Dread is lightly questioned by Ahmed. But he is not perceptive enough nor intelligent enough to ponder too deeply. In his mind, the ghostly traitor he once called a friend hired a sorcerer to move the city into an especially cursed part of Nithia. The little known about Nithia speaks of lingering mysteries and a deep sense of foreboding. As for these fears of sorcery, a dark mage frequently travels between Pharazia and Ylar, calling restless spirits to her cause. The necromantic sorceress seeks to hear the calls of the dead and help them enact revenge. Ahmed fears that Karim will find her, potentially resulting in a true uprising. Or worse, the final key that Clan Kalzafred needs for victory. Ahmed knows that something deeper than dark magic is afoot though. He can almost sense the work of “strange spiritual powers'' just beyond his grasp. Any further notions of the Dark Powers are lost upon him. Likewise, he is confused about how he is able to close his domain borders with the help of the deadly sandstorms. All succumb and find themselves shredded while the block is up, save for the mysterious sorceress. To combat this and the rival family, the Darklord’s gang has employed their own use of fell magic.

Clan Kalzafred are a mystery unto themselves. Few know that they are werejackals, but sense something supernatural about them, likening them to the ghouls that hover beyond the city borders. The closest to the truth are fellow outcasts hated by Ahmed’s gang, cultists of Ranivorus and Thanatos. The devout raiders in service to the Immortals of Entropy sense something feral and sinister about the clan, which all the more attracts them. As for the family itself? While they migrated to Ylar from Pharazia, they did not originate in that Pharazia’s home world, nor in Mystara. In truth, their origins lie in the same world as the Ambreville Clan and McGregor Clan, a strange world known by names like “Laterre”, “Terra” and “Gothic Earth.”^⁷ Only clinging onto the religious values of their Arabian homeland as a smoke screen, their true interests fell into something more blasphemous and eldritch. The Terran public knew them for years as secretive but otherwise devout practitioners of Islamic faith. In time, their facade was blown and they were banished from the lands. They carried secrets of Babylon, the depths of Memphis and buried cities of pillars found in ancient deserts. Bloodlines of fell sorcerers and grim occultists polluted their ancestry for ages, all thanks to the dark deeds of one many generations ago. Almost all of this bloodline is thanks to the bastard progeny of a fallen scholar. They had long received visions of a dimension of dreams, some even vanishing on “Dream Quests.” These endeavors into other dimensions marked one of their children, Abdullah. Curiously, Abdullah is not a werejackal, but carries a strange divine connection. In addition, he was the last of the bloodline to know Terra before lands of the Mists became the clan’s home. Named after a distant relative with a legacy in the arcane, the now young adult seeks out Nithian ruins beyond Ylar City, to carry on his legacy. He has heard calls of the Pharaoh Shade, an eldritch entity that lives on in the Mists’ grasp as a lingering vestige of power. It is there that he may embrace his destiny and embrace the clan name that his family carried upon Terra, Al-Hazred! While the clan has been dispelled to the Demiplane of Dread for years, many are aware of their dark past in full, even ignoring new familial lore presented to them in Pharazia.

Beyond the feuding crime families, there are still points of interest throughout the city stronghold and beyond. Towards the border of Pharazia, there is a meeting point between the two domains. Madinat Saghira is a little town that has been terrorized by the bandits of Ylar’s reaches. They have since aligned with the ways of Diamabel to some degree, especially after benefitting from both trade and water. An oasis north of them has its agents from the city of thieves, to keep the remote territory in line. In more recent years, escapees of Clan Kalzafred have emerged in the town, preaching holy words from their Terran home world. They are in fact normal humans and not werejackals, rejecting the ways of their clan’s disgraced name.

The Pharaoh Shade and many lost cities aren’t the only vestiges of Nithia brought into the mists by darker powers. In the western portion of the domain sits an actual vestige, which an ancient High Priestess who rivaled that of Ra-Hotep seeks to return to an age of glory. Her time suppressed within a sealed crypt was cut short, as bandits began to explore the ruins in hopes of plunder. Instead, protective wards were broken and the undead ruler was freed. While greatly weakened, she is still a destructive Ancient Dead. Slowly, more and more undead in the domain have fallen under her sway. While aware of the Pharaoh Shade, she does not currently fear it. She is too distracted with seeking her brother, a victim of Ra-Hotep that she wishes to avenge and resurrect. He is secretly nowhere to be found in the Demiplane of Dread.

Al’Abamimi is something of a legendary physician within the city, capable of healing the wounded brought to him. His methods are cold, intellectual and effective. He is quick to dismiss supernatural methods of thinking, seeking a “realistic” approach behind everything. While he acknowledges the Immortals of his home Mystaran realm, he sees them as powerful entities who discovered incredible energy. Unbeknownst to him, he has been guided by a djinn refugee of another realm, Al-Kathos. While Al’Abamimi is still a genius, some of his inspirations have come from elsewhere. However, he is too stubborn and obnoxious in his own beliefs to fully accept the djinn yet.

Related to Al-Kathos itself is the Valley to Oblivion. This Mistway is reliable, but no less dangerous. A roadway that is never blown over or covered abruptly emerges beside sandy rock formations flanking the oddly darker colored sand path. Exiled bandits, strange beasts and unfathomable desert horrors linger near the path; invalidating most of its reliability as a connection between domains.

A village exists several miles south of Ylar’s fort city, on the edge of an oasis. Alsukar, a name eerily similar to a territory in Al-Kathos, is something of a sugar farm. Origins of the town are unknown, save for that the people flocked around the staple crop that mysteriously grew there. Extensive use of slave labor has raised hypocritical eyebrows from Ylar, due to some use of the trade within the city. This is mostly because of labor imported from Pharazia. However, the end result of this has been a major supplier of the substance for both food and medicine. One desire of Ahmed is to have the city slowly sprawl outwards towards the farm town.

Ylar only seems healthy from the outside, as per current events. Growing tensions means that a civil war between Ahmed’s loyalists and Clan Kalzafred is possible in the near future. Despite disliking them greatly, Ahmed has been sending out spies to relay information to Pharazian forces. He suspects that the rival clan in his city is practicing profane occult rituals that would prove detrimental to his city’s future. The Bandit King is not ready to enter a full unity pact with the theocratic neighbor, but he weighs his options. Beyond small feuds and nervous glances, business carries on as usual. Fears of the walking dead have been pinned on both major sides. Clan Kalzafred accuses Bandit King Loyalists of playing with supernatural powers beyond their control. However, those in favor of Ahmed suspect that the rival clan is dabbling in dark arts to give them an edge. Majority of everyday people try to go about their day to day business, seeing how long they can get away with remaining impartial. Even many of the rogues and scoundrels who use the city as a safe haven don’t take kindly to the growing division, gaining animosity towards both the Darklord’s faction and his rivals. A growing resistance towards the conflict could bubble into a battle royale for the city’s power.

Scarred Crag (Island of Terror)

Land of Origin: Atruaghin Plateau, Tiger Clan, AC 903; Emerging 743 Barovian Calendar

Darklord: High Priest Tlaocoyaliztli N(E) Human Werepanther Cleric of Danel 14; clan armor that grants bonuses against mental effects & enchanted macuahuitl that ignores weapon immunities

Encounters: (Common) Mountain Lions, Snakes, Black Bears; (Uncommon) Jaguars, Giant Heads; (Rare) Werejaguars, Phantom Warriors, “The Dragon”

At first glance, such a place resembles a land where the Tiger Clan has triumphed over the other clans and nations of Atruaghin. It shares flora and fauna found within respective parts of and around the plateau. However, things are quite twisted in one way or another. For starters, the higher elevated lands seem almost terraformed by the invasive “Jaguar Tribe.” Tropical plants create shade for big cats to prowl and hunt. Strange cries of seemingly foreign beasts join the distant felines as well. Below the towering rock, a more temperate climate remains stable. In both instances, unusually large black bears can be seen. The bears remain distant towards both tribes, but turn instantly hostile upon getting too close. Likewise, venomous snakes have made their home in both environments, some capable of killing victims within an hour of a bite. Even poisonous plants have begun to slink into the lands, growing like uncontrollable weeds. These hazards aren’t the only perils faced by this Tiger Clan offshoot. This new branch of the Tiger Clan is overstretched and overtaxed, attempting to make up for inept order through intimidation and exploitation of the other tribes in their grasp. If the strain and struggles of the Jaguar Tribe were made aware to their captives, the illusion would crumble and the colony would quickly fail. The namesake of this domain comes from the scarred appearance of Danel Tigerstripe, a grim Entropic Immortal deeply revered by the Darklord of this domain. Despite this deep admiration for this Immortal, Atzanteotl is openly vilified with few immediate consequences. But some strange events make some think twice about disgracing the rival Immortal’s name. Within this terrible society, there is some semblance of leadership. However, it is corrupted, terribly insecure and prone to an almost feral rage. It is the wrath overseen by High Priest Tlaocoyaliztli, for his position of holy power is no mere coincidence. This Darklord carries his own weight for many sins and tragedies.

The events that truly led to the downfall of the Danel obsessionist started with a political feud with Glantri. In AC 901, several Glantrian mages who coveted rare arcane tomes were captured by the Tiger Clan. The prisoners were later sacrificed and the artifacts hidden. The Prince, in desperate search of the tomes, summoned other Glantrian nobles to aid in retaliation. Before there was potential for blows, the Tiger Clan framed the Bear Clan. Attempts by Darokin to sort this out met an indignant Bear Clan, who furthered problems. The start of a potential war was averted by the declarations of a Darokinian trader. The trader investigated, convinced the Tiger Clan to relinquish the books and maintain peace. This would one day lead to events in AC 927 with the Great Merger. Likewise, the Darokin Diplomatic Corps truly got their start through this event. But, this foiled attempt at gaining great power both intrigued and frustrated Tlaocoyaliztli. This was an opportunity that was squandered and he could do far better, in his mind.^⁸

Tlaocoyaliztli viewed himself as a tragic figure as a child, unable to grasp glory without fighting back. From within the Tiger Clan, he viewed Danel as something of an admirable folk hero who fought back against a corrupt status quo. In truth, this was nonsense concocted by a damaged and troubled mind. His clan frequently excluded him, finding him weak and annoying. This only furthered his feverous devotion and madness. In time, he did receive attention from the clan, but it was too late, his own agendas had grown far darker than anything the clan could anticipate. A small cabal assembled around him with the mission of holy war against all other clans, especially those who revered Atruaghin. His holy war mostly amounted to brutal butchery of innocent lives after finding a way onto the plateau, as many cohorts were quickly put down. His last victim was a powerful Medicine Woman in an emerging Tribe of the Snipe. She cursed Tlaocoyaliztli in her dying breath, to share the flesh of the beast he acted as. As strange mists arose, the fervent and blood-soaked priest also became a werejaguar^⁹ as he roared in tribute to Danel. Upon exiting the destroyed hut of the murdered healer, he saw more targets. In his monstrous form, he took to slaying the natives who crouched in fear. His massacre was a moment of triumph for him, but he knew something darker lied in store. As tribesmen of this new location readied to fight back, he turned tail and ducked into a fog bank nearby. Lost in the swirling void, he feverishly ran in search of something new. He desired further tribute to Danel, further proof that he was worthy. In time, he heard the voices of his people. “Yes, they shall hear of my conquests and merit!” he thought to himself. He saw a vision ahead, a land most familiar. Where he emerged, it looked like home. But he knew this was a new land, a colony of sorts that finally realized his ideals and potential. There was no Atzanteotl here, under the watch of Danel.

Life in the Scarred Crag is cruel, unforgiving and blatantly oppressive. A new tribe, the Jaguar Tribe, is the true power of the land. As a symbol of the Scarred Crag, the population must undergo a series of scarification rituals to ensure that they belong to the land and to their patron Immortal, with wounds not unlike the gash stripes of Danel himself. Even the recent adobe style buildings must be dealt slashing marks upon their outer structure; scars to prove that a whole clan is dedicated to Danel’s cause. In the mind of the Darklord, their service to his people is an act of divine retribution. To him, they failed their new primary patron ages ago by letting him suffer under the wrath of orcs, and later fellow tribesmen. And for that, the Atruaghin people must suffer dearly. Even for the Jaguar Tribe, life is wrought with toil and tribulation. Supplies are prioritized to the soldier caste serving under the High Priest, with far less for the rest of the tribe. The casualty rate for Tlaocoyaliztli’s settlement has increased due to retaliating guerilla fighters, supernatural horrors and poor conditions. Countless children are left without family, due to slain fathers and mothers withering away. Day-to-day life is worse for the subjects under the eyes of the Jaguar Tribe though. Their subjects’ daily tasks are forcibly made harder, such as through needlessly heavier buckets for carrying water, shackles upon all active workers and other means of oppression and torture. This endless use of petty force has pushed the citizens to the limits, however Tlaocoyaliztli likes to think it created a self-sufficient nation that makes up for lack of trade. However, the military that has been used to enforce such rule has extended itself too far. Basic needs of the people outside of this new Tiger Clan splinter group are not met and many die off from malnutrition, disease, animal attacks and suicide. Bands of resistance often form beyond the watch of hired guards and soldiers, striking back at opportune times. However, rebellion is put down, as it has time and again. This does not impede attempts to start new movements, much to the chagrin of Tlaocoyaliztli. The most recent incident of this occured in the year 751 BC, where the farmers of what would be the Crag united with assorted tools to attack soldiers demanding food and payments. The deployed squad was shocked and overwhelmed, but not before further troops arrived to massacre the majority of the insurgents. The remainder were penalized heavily, including use of divine prayers to Danel to modify them into something more docile and submissive, forced to work without complaint. It was because of this that such property is now referred to as the Plains of Vacant Murmurs by others, who witness farmers operating in a soulless trance-like state.

High Priest Tlaocoyaliztli is quick to attempt ceremonies that venerate his primary patron, while glorifying his sadistic nature. Most often these are sacrifices as well as executions. With granted permission of both the chief as well as other priests, he is one to deliver a grandiose speech. When contending with execution, it is often mocking and trivializing the victim in order to dehumanize and minimize them. For all of his desires and penchants for cruelty, he’ll never be satisfied. His interests often clash and collide with each other, contradicting at every turn. His want for more brutal authority clashes with a lurking want to terrorize the masses through chaos. Often he’ll be caught in deep brooding, preventing him from deeper action. Only when someone else commits something he wished to do will he break from this fugue to observe. In the end, he is not satisfied, as he did not orchestrate the events himself. He is doomed to be part of someone else’s plan. In the end, this will cause him to lose confidence in himself and fall into a torpor-like depressive state, reminding him of his earlier years of being victimized and failing. Despite not understanding the machinations of the mists, Tlaocoyaliztli can still close the borders of his domain. In doing so, teams of warriors rush to confront those who wish to escape. They are all supernaturally imbued by the boons of the cleric himself. Over time, he has begun to realize that he is nothing more than a pawn. His communings with his patron have made him grow concerned and cynical. He knows this is not the Tiger Clan he was accustomed to. Likewise, the rules of reality have changed. He senses a dark master toying with him. In his mind, it is Atzanteotl playing with him, as he has with Danel Tigerstripes.

Another curse of Tlaocoyaliztli is the lycanthropic condition afflicted upon him. Initially, he saw his curse as a gift from his Immortal patron. However, he learned that he had little control over it when he became overly emotional or offended. This caused him to become destructive, even sabotaging his own works and attacking subordinates. Because of this, he has had to subdue himself, including ceremonies where he would mock his victims. However, this curse has made his sadistic tendencies far more satisfying and gratifying to him. When he held back the inner beast for too long, it would leak into his behavior at times. This causes Tlaocoyalizti to be awkward at times to his public, acting in very unusual and uncanny ways ill befitting of a human. For most, the village of his Jaguar Tribe sits at an advantageous position. Unlike the Tiger Clan of his past, his new tribe is elevated by a small plateau, utilizing numerous carved passages and caves as a means of descending carefully. All can visit their conquered neighbor. Or, all except Tlaocoyaliztli. His curse doesn’t just end at controlling his emotions. Even setting foot into this colony will cause him to transform and lose all inhibitions save for hunting his prey. Instead of subjugating the tribe under his control, a bestial urge pushes him to slay and even consume some of them. After returning to normal, he is haunted by the same terrible sound, the distant laughter of Atzanteotl taunting him over his failure. Should that not be enough, his own internal doubt and personal horror continues where the distant laughing trails off. His insecurities towards his ability to lead and function are always thrown out whenever his lycanthropic side takes over. He fears that one day, his mind will degenerate into a simple state, fitting of the beast he sometimes becomes. His own actions have caused him to afflict his most trusted soldiers. While they too suffer the curse of the werejaguar, strange forces have instead rewarded them by turning them into natural werebeasts perfectly in control of their power.

Despite the oppression brought upon by domineering masters, the distant Atruaghin people known as “The Opossum Tribe” prosper and endure in their own ways. Their original name, roughly translating to “The Original Ones,” is otherwise lost to the mists beyond. Contrasting to the Darklord’s broken parody of machismo, the tribe below operates on more matriarchal principles. The Council of the Great Mothers were once the primary rulership over the tribe, prior to the conquest. The original site was sacked and burned by Tlaocoyaliztli and his raiders, forcing a reconstruction down below. Much of the Council was slain by the time Tlaocoyaliztli emerged from the mists, only to be replaced by majority political puppets who serve Tlaocoyaliztli’s interests. Their role has also shifted to that of moral support and inspiring just enough hope for the Opossum Tribe to persevere. While the Council building is more elaborate, the rest of the villages prove to be more humble. Homes are often round and dome-like, fortified through tree bark. Longer houses modeled after those from neighboring tribes is not unheard of, to house larger families and important people. They ultimately prove effective against the shifting weather patterns of the seasons. The semi-temporary nature of the homes allow for families to travel and transport easily, especially when toiling under the demands of their current overlords. What were once incredible rivers have been reduced to small streams opening into small hand-dug lakes. Still, a primary means of travel between tribes and clans was severed. Even with the drastic shrinking as a waterway, it still provides some freshwater fish and even some plant life; being a short walk away from the primary tribal village. Unlike the scaled and bony armor of the Jaguar Clan’s warriors, the Opossum Tribe prefers garb made of skins/hides and moccasin shoes. Women of the area tend to wear flowing dresses and sometimes a feather mantle, while men tend to wear leggings alongside wrapping breechclouts.

Lore speaks of a time when they lived upon the raised land to survey the hard agricultural work around them. The lands below were spaces where they worked as stewards of the land, while ensuring the prosperity of their own people. However, after their forces were crushed by the aggressive Jaguar Tribe, they were moved off their rocks and forced to farm for their new masters. The Opossum Tribe sits just below the raised land, gazed upon mercilessly by their grim captors. The lush forests around them provide much in the ways of vegetation, game animals and much more. In ancient days, great leaders, medicine men and more spoke of a great river that united their people with many others in a mighty confederacy of nations. The plateau gave the Opossum Tribe a great privilege over their allies, something they didn’t take lightly. However, tragedy struck after an ancestor committed a great heresy. Beyond speculation, the actual deed was lost. It could have been blending metal craft with rituals, using evil spiritual powers or something else entirely. In response, mighty beings of power punished the tribe by cutting the river off from them. And from there, a source of resources and travel was forever lost to them. This moment of weakness left them vulnerable to enemies, as many of their former allies and kin left the Opossum Tribe in deep shame and disgust. Knowledge of the actual blasphemous act is vague, save for the attempt to reconcile a shamanistic talent with strange and dark magic from more fell realms. The Highest Creator and their servitors sent spirits to smite the land in retribution, lest corruption spread. A bank of fog moved over the sibling tribe to the Elk Clan and it was taken away. This False History narrative does not consider a previous Darklord over the land. It is possible that one existed, before being slain by Tlaocoyaliztli and their domain being rewritten. Before “The Great Heresy,” this tribe would often migrate between stations along the river. These activities ranged around the year: maintaining staple crops in a lush valley during the spring, taking the river to a shoreline to hunt for different types of seafood along a “realm of sea fans,” harvests and huddled survival during the autumn through winter and collecting sap from uphill trees by the plateau in later winter into spring. Farming was secondary to hunting and trade networks though, practices that have been heavily suppressed in the years since their conquering. Likewise, the strategy of stations has long been interrupted, with younger generations completely oblivious to it. Late autumn and early winter hunts have mostly been taken over by the Jaguar Tribe, to prevent their subjects from gaining an upper hand or extensive supplies of their own.

There are many secrets unknown to the Jaguar Tribe. One is an attempted pact with the Jogah that lives in the depths. False History speaks of the oppressed tribesmen calling out to those who would hear their pain. For years, the Jogah rejected the fallen Opossum Tribe for their decadence and sins, trying to wield and fuse power not meant for them. But in time, the faerie-like Jogah took pity upon them, making the lives of the transgressors a maddening nightmare. These spirit creatures are prone to acts of mischief not unlike the Fair Folk of the Shadow Rift. However, those within their liking gain far more preferential treatment, while those who draw their ire will suffer dearly. Forest territories that are claimed by the Jogah are feared and avoided by the Jaguar Tribe, well aware that divine retribution comes to them if they push too hard. This was discovered in 753 Barovian Calendar, when an attempt to cut down the forests to provide farmland was met with Jaguar Tribe foremen and soldiers returning from the effort. They were driven insane by “unfathomable woodland horrors.” Those who attempt to investigate suffer the same fate, usually resulting in their execution in response to their “uselessness.” The Darklord does not fear them and hopes a way will be found to eliminate the “spiritual pests” once and for all. However, he is more than content sacrificing troops in an effort to slay them. Deep down, he suspects that these adversaries are powerful and prevent him from his goals of expansion. All the same, he dreads the idea of sacrificing himself and putting his settlements at risk. In reality, the Jogah are far more capricious than initially seems. They are not actually allied with the Opossum Tribe, just dislike them to a lesser extent than the Jaguar Tribe. Their allegiance was more tied to a neighboring tribe lost to the Mists themselves. This severed connection has upset them greatly, making them bitter and somewhat vindictive. Should the Opossum Tribe upset them once more, they too will be the target of attacks. However, the Jogah are the only ones who know of their roots in the Elk Clan of the Atruaghin Plateau, knowledge long lost upon the people themselves. As such, reaction to them tends to be pity over immediate hatred.

Spirit-filled woods are not the only things to inspire awe or terror. Worse yet are creatures that frightened even the home nation of this land, within a deep area of the woods called “Place of the Dragon.” It is said that strange and powerful entities dwell there, including a foul spirit with a horse-like head and bat-like wings. While the spiritfolk already provide much in torment, the meaning behind this cryptic and fabled place is clouded to the Jaguar Tribe and their mighty warriors. In truth, The Place was once an outpost operated by Darokinian tradesmen. The Great Heresy marked them just as much as the nearby tribe, causing a recently arrived couple to give birth to a foul and heinous creature. While the fates of the Darokinians are long lost, the creature still roams the forests in confusion, anger and lack of greater purpose. However, it is said that the beast has taken to protecting the land. One territory that the Jaguar Tribe has managed to maintain with a degree of success is an outpost village that belonged to a rival nation to the Opossum Tribe. Hailing from a larger clan, the outpost was an attempt to move in on enemy territory while pushing all rival peoples out. The efforts ultimately failed, as a shaman made pacts with dark forces to not only drive away the assailants, but mercilessly slay them. The Jaguar Tribe has since occupied the longhouses left behind and have even taken to refurbishing them. Out of a reluctant respect, they have ensured the quality of the furnishings left behind as well. Despite never meeting these rivals, they feel an odd kinship to them. However, the cursed souls that haunt the grounds do not necessarily feel the same. When warbands from the annexed grounds prepare to engage the people of the Opossum, hauntings stir up. This can range from strange images and sounds being observed, to phantasms engaging in violence against the ground occupiers and their original enemies alike. The wayward souls seek to escape the grounds that ensnare them, in hopes of a proper afterlife. Until their hexed grounds are properly consecrated, all they can do is retaliate and enact pain. They are not ghosts in any traditional sense, but spirits forcefully extracted from their bodies and bound to the land itself. When all of this is finally undone and the curses are broken, these people find peace in the afterlife of a Realm of Great Spirit. This isn’t the only instance where the colonizers have come to know fear itself. One curiosity nearby is an island that was once captured by descendents of the Jaguar Tribe long ago. However, it is abandoned and said to be deeply cursed by a murderer who turned against her people. The Island of Acotlaza is one shrouded in terror, one that even Tlaocoyaliztli dares not go to.^¹⁰ In reality, this pocket domain has its roots with the Azcan people in the Hollow World. While the Darklord could consider them a distant ancestor, much knowledge of this has been scrubbed away by both time and the Dimension of Dread.

Current matters in the Scarred Crags do not bode well for Tlaocoyaliztli and his legion. The morale in his own tribe is plummeting rapidly. Families are punished greatly, even executed, for trying to keep their sons from the ranks of the High Priest’s army. The soldiers themselves have started to succumb to fear after witnessing or hearing about the dreadful things that lurk in the forests. Some fear their own ranks, hearing rumors of curses that cause men to take the shape of violent great cats. One rebel leader has managed to survive all predecessors: Glidingwind Jayfeather. Descended from a Great Mother of the Council, she seeks to restore the proper traditions, along with confidence and power to her people. While some think of her as a force for progress, she is heavily xenophobic and seeks as much destruction of the Jaguar Tribe’s people as possible. She wants to return to an idyllic past, one before her people fell from grace. However, her actions for the Opossum Tribe are mostly supportive and kindly, despite an authoritative and intimidating presence. Her profile has remained low enough to evade much of the Jaguar Tribe for now. So far, she is only seen as a meddler that helps feed her tribe. Other troubles have emerged for both tribes too. The claimed Elk settlement has brought with it the rage of the phantoms cursed to dwell there. Phantasmal Elk Clan warriors have materialized to attack both Opossum and Jaguar territories. The ambushes and assaults are rare, but the incursions have raised alarms. A General serving Tlaocoyaliztli has requested abandoning the land in favor of somewhere easier to subjugate. While offended, Tlaocoyaliztli has been left in an uncertain state as to whether or not his colony can survive.

Closing Notes

So concludes my own musings on the others who are trapped in this hell of miasmic mists and intricate mind games. Others toil under their curses and self-inflicted damnation. Is this place a prison? Purgatory? A grim afterlife? It is hard to tell at this time. What can be said is that this is no normal world, it simply can’t be. The logic is too different from the nations around me, the world of the mortals. This otherworldly dimension is built by something different, grim judges beyond the planes themselves. But to that end, all judges revere higher powers and higher laws. I cannot think more on these questions for now, as they bring head pain rather than answers. But, one thing scratches my head… What is real? The adventurers I see at my door, these mocking shades have aspects of that wretched crew of that Alphatian sky ship! But, are they real? The current people of Jaibul, they too have a certain uncanniness to them as well. This madness too must be suppressed. Perhaps I can reach out to those also suffering for their failures or perceived evils. They too know immense pain, they too have lost Mystara. As I have touched upon before, they weren’t the first to be discovered by Mystaran and “Mist Lands” denizens alike. That honor is evidently bestowed to Nebligtode of Norwold, taken away for the callous brutality of Meredoth. My extended network informs me that he is no longer haunted by the whims of his Alphatian province, but surrounds himself with undead and some hired help to run his isolated and frigid chain of islands. This new land is not too unlike his home province, in that Norwold is not a welcoming place all its own. Twas a somewhat isolated and remote land already; some mad project concocted by the decadent mages of Alphatia. It was no wonder that one of them would eventually snap so terribly. And yet, he was the first of us to be found in this new dimension. The other Mystaran prisoners? They seem far too unstable to be of much use to me. But, it might be in my own interest to reach out to this Meredoth… somehow.^¹¹

2Frozen Reaches Cluster is mentioned in “Ravenloft Third Edition” (p. 18) and “Ravenloft Player’s Handbook” (p. 20)

4Amber Wastes Cluster is mentioned in the “Domains of Dread” hardcover (p. 17)

5A powerful warlord NPC found in GAZ2: “The Emirates of Ylaruam” (pg. 48)

7“Ravenloft: Masque of the Red Death and Other Tales Boxed Set

8Zendrolion’s post on AC 900 Glantri, Darokin and Atruaghin Plateau —Italian MMB, episode of conflict between Glantri and the Atruaghin lands references in GAZ11: “The Republic of Darokin”, page 5 and 12

9High Priest Tlaocoyaliztli pays homage to the “CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT: WEREBEASTS” cover: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/110204/Children-of-the-Night-Werebeasts-2e

10Acotlaza is a Pocket Domain that can be found either alongside this domain or within another Cluster of domains. The “Daemons and Deathrays blog” looks at the latter.

11The “Domains of Dread” hardcover establishes the domain of Nebligtode as originating in Norwold