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Ravenloft_Gazetteer_5.PDF
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Ravenloft Gazeteer V
Credits
Authors:
Andrew Cermak, John W. Mangrum,
Steve Miller, Ryan Naylor and
Andrew Wyatt
Developers: :
Jackie Cassada and Nicky Rea
Editor:
Mike Johnstone
Sword & Sorcery Managing Editor:
Andrew Bates
Art Director:
Richard Thomas
Layout and Typesetting:
Ron Thompson
Interior Artists:
Talon Dunning, Jeremy McHugh,
Claudio Pozas, Richard Thomas and
Beth Trott
Front and Back Cover Designer:
Ron Thompson
Additional Thanks
Based on the O riginal Dungeons &
Dragons ® rules created b y E . G ary G ygax
and Dave Arneson and the new Dungeons
& Dragons game designed b y Johnathan
Tweet, Monte Cook, Skip Williams,
Richard Baker and Peter Adkison.
Special Acknowledgements
Andria Hayday (1st ed. design)
Bruce Nesmith (1st ed. design)
Tracy & Laura Hickman (original
concept)
© 2 0 0 4 Wizards of the Coast, Inc.
Ravenloft, Dungeons & Dragons and its logo, D&D, Dungeon Master, d2 0 System, the d2 0 System
logo, and Wizards of the Coast and its logo are trademarks or registered trademarks of Wizards of the Coast
Inc., a sub sidiary of Hasb ro Inc., in the U SA and other countries, and are used b y Arthaus under license.
Arthaus is a trademark of Arthaus Pub lishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Sword and Sorcery is a trademark
of White Wolf Pub lishing, Inc.
PRINTE D IN CANADA
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Foreward
Table of Contents
Forew ord
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Report O ne: N ova V aasa
9
Report Tw o: Tepest
44
Report Three: K eening
83
Report Four: Shadow Rift
97
Attached N otes: D M s Appendix
124
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Ravenloft Gazeteer V
Foreword
While some affect the sun, and some the shade
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying thro life; the task be mine,
To paint the gloomy horrors of the tomb;
Th appointed place of rendezvous, where all
These travellers meet.
Robert Blair, The Grave
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Foreward
reetings once again, my patron. No doubt
you have wondered what became of me
after I last wrote from Sithicus. Indeed,
these past weeks have proven most event-
ful, and only now do I once again have the
opportunity to contact you. Should my patron con-
duct similar projects in the future, he may wish to
contemplate more efficient means of relaying these
reports than relying on his brutish messengers.
I have traveled too long in the south. I dislike
these backward wilds, and I sense dark shadows
gathering around me. Indeed, I have suffered more
troubles in the last six months of this survey of the
Core than in its first year and a half combined. Not
even the five years before that, spent evading the
undead as I studied Necropolis, caused me such
consternation. Much from this recent leg of my
journey bothers me still. I have yet to determine
how I eluded a grisly end in Verbrek. Naturally, my
theories center around the strange bracer you be-
stowed upon me, but the nature of the so-called
protective magic locked within your gift remains
elusive. More than a year have I worn this device
locked around my wrist, Azalin. My annoyance is
countered only by my intellectual curiosity, and
that will not assuage me forever.
I must also confess that, although I left Sithicus
behind me well over a month ago, the phantasmal
guilt permeating that land lingers within me. These
shameful thoughts are most unlike the false memo-
ries Darkon feeds to our homelands newcomers;
shedding them is not so simple as leaving the
kingdom behind. The memories contain a certain
truth the truth in my daughters dying words
But never mind that. My most recent travails
took place just after I last wrote to you, my patron. My
schedule req uired that I cross the Balinoks q uickly.
As I noted then, I had once more chosen to utilize the
mist-walking talents of hireling Vistani rather than
submit myself again to that rolling coffin your repug-
nant underlings call a carriage. As much as I might
choke on these words, I must now admit that I would
have done well to heed your cautions concerning the
Vistani. I assure you, my dear patron, I shall not seek
out their services again.
I met with the Vistana I had hired shortly after
dusk, and he led me to his campsite. They were a
small troupe, just three men and a woman all told. A
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