public: trueStrahd's Dinner Conversation
Welcome, my friends. I fear that we have yet to have formal introductions. I am Count Strahd von Zarovich, Lord of Barovia, Master of Castle Ravenloft. Tonight, you are my guests, and no harm shall befall you while you remain in my home. I am a man of my word, and you have it.
These are my three brides, Ludmilla Villisevic, Anastrasya Karelova, Volenta Popofsky, and I believe you have already met my consort Escher.As you eat, let me share with you a brief history of these lands and of this Castle.
After the death of my father, King Barov, I waged a long war, finally killing the last of my family's enemies, liberating the people in this very valley. I decided to settle here, and thus named the land Barovia after my late father.
I scoured my newly conquered lands for wizards and artisans, brought them to the valley of Barovia, and commanded them to raise a castle to rival the magnificent fortresses of my ancestral homeland.
Once Castle Ravenloft was completed, I invited its namesake, my mother, Queen Ravenovia, to join me here. Alas, mother did not survive the journey, but her spirit lives on in this castle.
"You must wonder why I invited you here tonight. Your exploits are becoming the talk of the valley, and I find myself both amused and intrigued by your progress.
You destroyed the Durst manor, lifting its ancient curse. A commendable act, even if that house of horrors had a certain charm. Then, you burned down the old windmill. It was rather an eyesore, so for that, I am surprisingly grateful.
In Vallaki, you cleansed the orphanage of its malevolent spirits, bringing peace to those tormented souls. You unleashed a tiger upon the town—yes, Bardolf, I know it was you. You even brought me those cursed bones that had vexed me for centuries. And, of course," he turns his gaze to Pelanil, "you killed my future bride. A bold and reckless move.
You’ve played the saviors for the Martikovs—rescuing them from blights, defeating the monstrous tree, and reviving their vineyard with a gem stolen from Baba Lysaga. Your heroics are almost tedious in their predictability.
But what astonishes me most is that you have rekindled the beacon at Argynvostholt. That ancient light, shining defiantly in the darkness, was a feat I did not expect.
I must admit, there is one other point of business for which I brought you here. There an infamous assassin named Rudolph van Richten with a genocidal hatred for the Vistani who has come to Barovia. This van Richten seeks to slay me for acting as protector for the Vistani’s. Van Richten may appear to be an old man, but he is a dangerous, wiley, paranoid individual with a lifetime’s experience in death and a vast collection of lies and cover stories at his disposal. If you are able to apprehend him—alive—and return him to Castle Ravenloft, I promise you each a treasure from my vault.
Ah, Ireena, She reminded me of someone dear from my past—a fleeting chance at reclaiming a lost love. A cruel jest by fate, perhaps.
You see, in Barovia, echoes of the past have a way of intruding on the present. I sought her not merely out of desire, but out of a yearning to rewrite history, to mend what was once broken.
But as with all things in this land, the past has a habit of slipping through one's fingers. Ireena may be gone, but the memory lingers—forever a reminder of what was and what could have been.
Her Body
Ireena's fate weighed heavily upon me. After her untimely death, I took her to the Abbot in Krezk, hoping to reincarnate her and break this cycle of sorrow. Alas, the curse that binds me thwarted this attempt. The Abbot and I then laid her to rest in Krezk, where she now remains. Her grave is a place of solitude and reflection, where I have since oft gone to ponder the cruelties of fate and the unyielding grip of this land's curse.
My glorious, beloved itinerants. So much of the flavour of Barovia, wouldn’t you say? The scent of their spices, the strum of their stringed instruments. I am forever indebted to them, and they therefore have privileges unafforded to my other subjects. They saved my life once. True. Long ago, such a thing was still possible.
Perhaps I did, to make you my playthings. Perhaps you are merely the last in a long line of sordid fortune seekers brought here to amuse me. Children have their dolls, men their womenfolk, their wine, their games of chance. I have you.
Or perhaps not. Perhaps you brought yourselves here, by the force of your yearnings. For there is something or someone each of you wants in Barovia. You must not underestimate the power of desire. It has built empires, slain invincible kings. It can shape the world you inhabit.
Or perhaps there is no reason at all. There is nothing wrong with a mystery. You will learn that in time. I will say no more on the subject.