Ravenloft Reincarnated: The Frozen Reaches

[hidajiremi]

Since Ravenloft Reincarnated is back in active development to get up to date with the release of the Fantasy Companion and Horror Companion for Savage Worlds, I've been going back to old half-finished projects in the hopes of getting them polished up and finally out into the world. First up on the docket is the Frozen Reaches cluster supplement. As new parts are fully completed, I'll be posting them up here for review, commentary, critique, and suggestions. Feel free to pitch ideas--I won't always take them, but I'm always happy to hear them!

Without further ado, the introduction for the Frozen Reaches!

***

In the Frozen Reaches, winter reigns eternal. Daylight is short, with the sun peering above the horizon for no more than six hours on a normal day, and sometimes disappearing entirely for months on end. Endless snow blankets the rugged landscape, making travel arduous. The stiff winds howl eerily across the icy wastes, cutting through the thickest clothing and chilling a man to his very bones.
Across the cluster, several feet of ice covers the surface of lakes and ponds, with jagged ice floes choking the rivers. In many places, the soil is frozen solid nine months of the year, allowing only the hardiest plants to survive. In other places, nothing with roots can manage to live at all, and only lichens and hardy mosses provide nourishment for the few animals capable of enduring the cold.

Where the soil is not permafrost, dense evergreen forests tower around travelers, their bitter needles, nuts, and back providing poor sustenance for foragers. Farmers are forced to grow tiny plots of winter grains and hardy root vegetables. Fierce predators, maddened by near-constant starvation, stalk the wilderness and gladly feast on travelers and settlers alike. Nature itself is a foe to be reckoned with—and one that always wins in the end.

The Frozen Reaches cluster is comprised of several large domains whose common factors include mountains, bone-chilling cold, and the constant threat of starvation. The northernmost domain in the cluster is Sanguinia, a plateau of dizzying heights whose central highlands rise up into menacing, jagged peaks. Several passes lead to the southern domain of Vorostokov, a broad valley completely surrounded by nearly impassable mountains.

Unknown to most folk, the mountains surrounding Vorostokov are not part of that domain at all, but represent a separate domain within the cluster: the Barrier Peaks. These ringing mountains are virtually impassable save for a few well-traveled passes and canyons, and those that seek to explore beyond these regions find the peaks full of sheer drops, crumbling cliffs, icy slopes, and deadly beasts. Few humans other than hermits and religious recluses dwell in the Barrier Peaks—but they are not uninhabited.

Beyond the Barrier Peaks lies a high and frozen wasteland which no living thing calls home—at least nothing that humanity would recognize as life. The frost-covered ruins of ancient, destroyed cities are hidden by snow and ice, but they are sometimes exposed by wind and the deep, glacial movements of the earth. These ruins hold wealth and knowledge beyond imagining, but each of them also holds death and horror for the unwary. The air is so thin that even breathing is a labor, and nothing grows here which could serve as food. This horrid place, the Plateau of Leng, is among the harshest and most difficult environments anywhere in the Land of Mists.


Languages

The civilized folk of the Frozen Reaches mainly speak the common tongue of Vorostokov, called Voros. The language sounds somewhat like Balok, but more liquid and thicker in tone. The Sanguinian dialect is higher and sharper, a language fit for a region where the air thins almost to the point of being unbreathable. The Frozen Reaches are so isolated that few people speak any other languages—and not a small number of folk are illiterate as well.


Connections

The cluster has several connections to other lands, including a few reliable Mistways connecting Sanguinia to G’Henna in the Far Steppes cluster. A number of well-hidden mountain passes are said to connect Vorostokov with the Balinok Mountains, particularly to the domain of Barovia. Unreliable Mistways connect the Barrier Peaks to mountains all across the Land of Mists, including the Balinok Mountains, the mountains of Darkon, the peaks above Bluetspur, and the shattered stone ridges of the Shadowlands sometimes known as Keening.

The most famous connection is the unreliable two-way Mistway connecting Vorostokov with Nova Vaasa, a passage known as the Bleak Road. Most of those who stumble onto this Mistway from Nova Vaasa wind up lining the sides of the Bleak Road as frozen corpses, since they are almost always unprepared for the harshness of the winter weather on the Frozen Reaches side of the passage.


Ukonusko

Throughout the Frozen Reaches, a local form of folk religion known as Ukonusko is common. Practiced most fervently in Sanguinia but also viewed with fondness in Vorostokov, Ukonusko is less and organized faith and more a collection of common spiritual beliefs and myths. The underpinning of Ukonusko is the idea that there are many gods who watch over humanity, and that most forms of good or bad luck are due to the influence of those gods, but that they rarely intervene directly.

There are few full-time priests of Ukonusko, primarily due to the necessity of everyone in the community working for survival, but almost every village has one or two older people who know more prayers and rituals than average. When it is determined that a situation calls for more than just a casual prayer, these elders don white robes and spill their own blood beneath sacred trees while chanting song-prayers passed down from time immemorial. Sometimes, more blood than their own is spilled as well, and a few isolated villages still undertake the practice of human sacrifice when things become truly desperate.

The most common folk-belief of Ukonusko is that bears are the spirits of honored ancestors, reincarnated to watch over the world—and occasionally to punish people for hidden sins. A person mauled or killed by a bear is assumed to have secretly deserved it in some fashion. A truly superstitious follower of the faith will even avoid saying the word “bear” to avoid drawing the attention of the ancestors, instead using such circumlocutions as “mead-paw,” “forest-dweller,” or “the brown one.”

[hidajiremi]

Sanguinia

A domain of jagged, frozen mountains, Sanguinia’s highest point is the icebound peak of Mount Radu, which rises high enough to make climbers’ lungs burn from lack of air. East of mighty Mount Radu, the glassy surface of Lake Argus is pockmarked by the holes of the ice fishermen who eke out a meager living on its shores.

The slopes of Sanguinia are treacherous, though primeval evergreen forests cling to them tirelessly. Rugged outcroppings and sheer ledges abound, making travel a lethal challenge for all but the most hardened mountaineers. Bitter winds scream across the heights, constantly threatening to fling travelers from the mountains and into the icy gorges below.

Avalanches can choke the few passes through the mountains for months at a time, and where frozen streams make their way down the slopes, their waters are a mere trickle beneath the icy crust above. Silent waterfalls hang from the rocky precipices, their waters caught forever as glittering curtains of ice.

Sanguinia is dotted with menhirs carved with primitive images of mythic heroes and frightening behemoths. The mountain caves are filled with paintings of battles against strange beasts, stone artifacts of unknown purpose, and the littered bones of men. The mountain tribes that created these monuments in ages past have long vanished, and none of the modern folk of the land know their true fate.

Villages in Sanguinia are gray bulwarks huddled against the weather’s limitless fury. The buildings are squat, rounded edifices, their windowless walls constructed as thick as possible with cobbles and boulders. The roofs are multiple layers of wooden planks, insulated with dry, packed evergreen needles. These abodes are the only refuge the natives possess in the face of eternal winter. Though they could survive more easily in larger communities, an ancient legacy of plague makes the people fear clustering too closely together. Even today, travelers and messengers will sometimes find an entire village depopulated by a resurgence of the disease known as the Red Death, the bodies of the dead completely bloodless and covered in the bright red pocks that gives the illness its name.

Sanguinians are a rugged people strengthened by a lifetime of clinging to the frigid mountains. Their shoulders and hips are wide, their chests deep, and their skin fair, though they have cheeks and noses made perpetually ruddy from exposure to frigid air. Their eyes tend to be a cold, pale blue or gray in hue, while their curly hair ranges from sandy brown to deepest black. Both men and women let their locks grow long and wild, while men carefully braid their long mustaches and beards.

Most Sanguinian clothing is thick and durable, made from layers of stitched hides and leather, using sawdust and woolen batting for insulation. Men and women alike wear trousers, shirts, long coats that hang past the knees, and round fur hats. Most folk prefer dark colors—gray, brown, midnight blue, crimson, and deep ochre. Boots are studded with iron spikes to provide traction on ice and stone, while snowshoes are used to cross wide expanses of powder.

Despite the joyless look of their homes, the Sanguinian people have managed to survive and prosper in exceedingly hostile surroundings, which makes them treasure simple joys and practice unfailing hospitality. They respect endurance and practicality, and they have little patience for deception or timidity. The folk of the domain believe that since death could come at any time in the mountains, they must find joy where they can, enjoying life to its fullest through music, dance, romance, and family. Children are a special joy to Sanguinians, since childbirth is difficult and stillbirths are common; a healthy birth in a village is cause for the child’s grandparents to sponsor a week of nightly feasting and dancing. Sanguinians fear little save for their domain’s highly aggressive wolves—and the rumors of plague survivors who are no longer human, haunting the mountain passes and looking for warmth and blood on which to feed.


Tropes

Sanguinia is rural Scandinavia during the pre-modern period—a land of extreme isolation, bitter cold, and cruel rulers who interact with their people only to torment or abuse them. In particular, Sanguinia owes a great deal to medieval Finland, a forested and distant land ruled over by intemperate and callous foreign kings. The people of Sanguinia are kind, generous, and decent, but any attempt to improve their lot brings down the wrath of their distant rulers, disaster in the form of sudden privation, or the merciless touch of the plague.


Themes

Brief Respites: Sanguinia is cold most of the year, but occasional periods of warmth and growth offer brief periods of hope. This hope is an ephemeral dream—a temptation to overreach and grasp for more than the prospect of another day’s survival. Those who give into the temptation of hope typically find themselves freezing to death on a mountainside, wondering how they could ever have been so foolish as to dream at all.

The Plagues: Though the Red Death no longer threatens to extinguish all life in the domain as it did so long ago, the cyclical recurrence of the disease leaves the folk wary. The appearance of symptoms—or even just the seeming appearance of symptoms—can cause an entire village to turn its back on an individual, group, or entire family. Isolated and alone, such folk face exposure and starvation. The prospect of such a grim end can turn even previously decent people into monsters in the hope of surviving another day.

Survival Against the Odds: The people of Sanguinia hold survival in the face of impossible odds to be the highest virtue. They are a people of incredible fortitude and unflinching determination. Many adventures in Sanguinia revolve around holding out long enough for help to arrive, or for conditions to change enough that survival is possible—enduring horrors rather than fighting them. Success in Sanguinia often means picking one’s moment rather than charging ahead recklessly.


The Darklord

Ladislav Mircea, the prince of Sanguinia, looks more like a gargoyle than a man. Even hunched and bent as he is, he still towers over most people. His eyes are bloodshot, constantly darting about, and his too-wide mouth is full of small, sharp teeth, like that of a lamprey or hagfish. His over-large hands dangle past his knees, and his blunt nails are caked in dirt, grime, and old blood. No one who looks upon the man can doubt that he is anything other than a monster.

Prince Ladislav was once an incredibly handsome man, his hair raven-black and his eyes icy-blue. His cold gaze could cut through a man’s soul, reducing anyone he looked at to a mere object—tools to be used or possessions to be collected, all cast aside and forgotten as soon as he had no further need of them. He had no friends to speak of, but he surrounded himself with scores of toadies and yes-men. He cared nothing for the people he ruled, save for what they could provide him.

When plague came to Mircea’s domain, he moved as quickly and ruthlessly as he could to protect himself and his court. He brought his closest advisors and lackeys into his castle, then he sealed the gates and watched dispassionately as the people outside suffered and died. Those foolish enough to approach the castle looking for aid were filled with arrows or doused in boiling oil, whether they showed signs of disease or not.

Despite his best efforts at isolation, the plague eventually entered the castle. At first, Mircea made a game of killing those unfortunate enough to show symptoms. The hapless victim would be stripped and chased with scourges, driving them to the battlements of the castle and eventually off the edge of the wall, falling to their deaths below. Mircea would laugh at such merriment, one of the few shows of genuine emotion ever demonstrated by the man.

Eventually, Mircea himself fell victim to the plague. Rather than admit his doom, he concealed his symptoms beneath heavy robes and makeup, turning to his lifelong interest in alchemy to try and find a cure. As the disease progressed, he became increasingly desperate, eventually spiriting healthy members of his court into his hidden lab, there to drain them of their vital fluids and distill those fluids into potential cures. Nothing seemed to work.

Months passed in this fashion, with Mircea becoming a virtual wraith haunting his own castle. The few guards, servants, and courtiers who remained took to barricading themselves in their chambers, coming out only in dire necessity. It was not enough. Mircea picked them off one by one, draining their humors and filling himself ever more with experimental alchemical concoctions.

After the last inhabitant of the castle was slain, Mircea found himself changed. The disease had reached an equilibrium within him, no longer causing him pain or even discomfort. Instead, he found himself consumed by an all-encompassing hunger that was impossible to contain, a hunger that drove him forth from the safety of his castle to seek a way to sate it. After draining his first victim of their blood, bile, spinal fluid, and marrow, Mircea rejoiced—until he looked in a mirror and saw the creature he had become. In a rage, he stalked the lands around his castle, killing and devouring every person he could find. Their screams echoed through the mountains, and the Mists closed in.

[Jeremy16]

This is a really good write-up. I can't wait to hear more!

I do have one nitpick...

The Darklord

Ladislav Mircea, the prince of Sanguinia, looks more like a gargoyle than a man. Even hunched and bent as he is, he still towers over most people. His eyes are bloodshot, constantly darting about, and his too-wide mouth is full of small, sharp teeth, like that of a lamprey or hagfish. His over-large hands dangle past his knees, and his blunt nails are caked in dirt, grime, and old blood. No one who looks upon the man can doubt that he is anything other than a monster.

Prince Ladislav was once an incredibly handsome man, his hair raven-black and his eyes icy-blue. His cold gaze could cut through a man’s soul, reducing anyone he looked at to a mere object—tools to be used or possessions to be collected, all cast aside and forgotten as soon as he had no further need of them. He had no friends to speak of, but he surrounded himself with scores of toadies and yes-men. He cared nothing for the people he ruled, save for what they could provide him.

When plague came to Mircea’s domain, he moved as quickly and ruthlessly as he could to protect himself and his court. He brought his closest advisors and lackeys into his castle, then he sealed the gates and watched dispassionately as the people outside suffered and died. Those foolish enough to approach the castle looking for aid were filled with arrows or doused in boiling oil, whether they showed signs of disease or not.

Despite his best efforts at isolation, the plague eventually entered the castle. At first, Mircea made a game of killing those unfortunate enough to show symptoms. The hapless victim would be stripped and chased with scourges, driving them to the battlements of the castle and eventually off the edge of the wall, falling to their deaths below. Mircea would laugh at such merriment, one of the few shows of genuine emotion ever demonstrated by the man.

Eventually, Mircea himself fell victim to the plague. Rather than admit his doom, he concealed his symptoms beneath heavy robes and makeup, turning to his lifelong interest in alchemy to try and find a cure. As the disease progressed, he became increasingly desperate, eventually spiriting healthy members of his court into his hidden lab, there to drain them of their vital fluids and distill those fluids into potential cures. Nothing seemed to work.

Months passed in this fashion, with Mircea becoming a virtual wraith haunting his own castle. The few guards, servants, and courtiers who remained took to barricading themselves in their chambers, coming out only in dire necessity. It was not enough. Mircea picked them off one by one, draining their humors and filling himself ever more with experimental alchemical concoctions.

After the last inhabitant of the castle was slain, Mircea found himself changed. The disease had reached an equilibrium within him, no longer causing him pain or even discomfort. Instead, he found himself consumed by an all-encompassing hunger that was impossible to contain, a hunger that drove him forth from the safety of his castle to seek a way to sate it. After draining his first victim of their blood, bile, spinal fluid, and marrow, Mircea rejoiced—until he looked in a mirror and saw the creature he had become. In a rage, he stalked the lands around his castle, killing and devouring every person he could find. Their screams echoed through the mountains, and the Mists closed in.

I would have the mists engulf Mircea right after he kills the last person in his castle, instead of having him do the whole "and then he killed them all" schtick all over again with the inhabitants of the countryside. I feel like the number of kills a person has doesn't matter as much in the darklord sweepstakes as the level of depravity they are willing to go to in order to get what they want. Killing everyone in the castle is enough to illustrate that point.

[hidajiremi]

Vorostokov

The vast frozen valley of Vorostokov is a land crushed by endless cold and terrorized by brutish warriors. Ringed on all sides by jagged, treacherous peaks, the domain’s trackless stepped and forests are buried under perpetual snow. Weary reindeer herds are followed by equally weary human nomads, both groups subsisting on lichens, bark, and the bitter evergreen nuts produced seasonally by the straggly pines.

The dark conifer forests of the domain are venerable and perilous, haunted by enormous wolves and restless snow spirits. Brutal winds howl ceaselessly across the plains, driving men to madness with their noise and cutting cold. Lethal blizzards are a near-weekly occurrence throughout the region. The icebound Trau River meanders southwest across Vorostokov from its headwaters in the Sanguinian highlands, draining eventually into the black waters of the aptly named Bottomless Lake.

Vorostokov is home to more than nomads, its tiny settlement widely scattered, self-sufficient specks of civilization amid the frozen wastes. Most villages are comprised of long, low log cabins, single-room structures that reek of pitch, pine resin, and the animals stabled within them alongside their human residents. The reindeer and goats kept by the villagers are kept inside their owners’ homes so that their body heat helps warm the househould. The gabled roofs are thatched with winter hay and topped with tilting stone chimneys, their feeble smoke wisps shredded by the ceaseless wind. Modest but wickedly sharp palisade fences surround each home to keep out wolves and other predatory beasts.

The people of the land are known as the Vos, stout of build and powerful of limb. Their skin tends to be fair or pale, often sallow or greyish from lack of sunlight. Like the Sanguinians to the north, their cheeks and noses are ruddy and windburned from the constant cold winds. The Vos tend toward brown eyes, but some children are born with a strange golden or ginger tint to their irises. Their straight hair is almost always dark brown or raven black.

Women grow their hair very long in Vorostokov, often past their waists or even to their ankles, and traditionally plait it into a single thick braid. Men wear their hair at shoulder-length or longer, and are far more varied in the styles they prefer; some wear their hair wild and loose, while others shave the sides of their heads or wear topknots. Full beards and long mustaches are common among men, and they often plait or braid their facial hair.

Typical Vos clothing consists of hide shirts and trousers for men, and long, layered dresses for women. When venturing outdoors, men and women alike swathe themselves in heavy furs. Women wrap their shoulders in shawls and their hair in kerchiefs, while men don round fur hats and long cloaks pinned at the shoulder. Clothing is always of natural colors, never dyed, and jewelry is rare, save for the occasional earring or brooch of antler or bone. Travelers don snowshoes when trekking through the snowbound wilderness.

As a people, the Vos tend toward warmth and good humor, though their spirits have begun to dim with each passing year of eternal winter. This has allowed a creeping fatalism into their culture, in which they disregard those things they cannot change. If they have a weakness, it is their stubbornness and the slowness with which they are stirred to action. The growing fatalism of their culture has created a dark streak of cynicism in many Vos, which those succumbing to it try to drown with potent liquor.

The Vos prize hospitality and socializing, and they are deeply suspicious of people who cannot enjoy a strong drink or laugh heartily in public. They delight in eating, drinking, song, wordplay, ribald jokes, board games, and tests of might. One of the cornerstones of any Vos village are sweathouses, lodges where residents can gather to enjoy the therapeutic properties of hot steam. Men and women alike gather in such places, nude or wearing only light towels, to gossip and relax.

In the past, each village was governed by a powerful warrior or wealthy landowner as they saw fit. These village rulers collected tribute on behalf of a distant king and selected a regional governor known as a boyar, who organized the region in times of war, but were otherwise wholly independent. Since the coming of the eternal winter, the region has fallen out of contact with their monarch, allowing the master hunter Gregor Zolnik to step forward and declare himself boyar of Vorostokov.

To consolidate his power, he has gathered a boyarsky, a sworn band of warriors, stalkers, and thugs who obey his every command. Zolnik is engaged in a brutal campaign of terror intended to bring all of Vorostokov’s settlements under his direct control. Those who submit find life under Zolnik’s thumb nearly unbearable due to his cruel nature, but any who resist face the wholesale slaughter of their warriors, hunters, and trappers, leaving the survivors to slowly starve. Zolnik is known to offer food to recalcitrant towns in exchange for fealty, but his evils lead to rebellions among his existing holdings, and then to reprisals when he returns to put them down. For each step Zolnik takes toward consolidating his power, he creates new enemies and can never rest on his laurels.


Tropes

Vorostokov is a mythical reflection of the historical Kievan Rus, a period of Eastern European history in which the scattered Varangian and Slavic tribes of modern Russia began to develop a united ethnic and national identity. This era is marked by a growing consciousness of shared destiny, but also intense violence as those who did not share in that sense of destiny or commonality were brought to heel. This period also marks a transition from paganism to Christianity in the region, with a similar clash. In short, Vorostokov is a place where tradition and modernity are starting their inevitable clash, and the bodies of men will be grist for the mill.


Themes

Endless Winter: Vorostokov is the iconic region of the Frozen Reaches—a land where winter never ends. There is always snow and ice on the ground, and even a seemingly clear day can transform into a howling blizzard without warning. The cold is a constant companion in the domain, draining life and vigor with each passing moment spent outdoors. Even a light snow can turn a familiar landscape into a trackless wasteland, covering landmarks and isolating heroes from help. The weather should be as much a group’s foe as any monster in a Vorostokov adventure.

The Specter of Hunger: The threat of starvation is a perpetual threat in the frozen lands of Vorostokov. A plentiful hunting season is a rarity, but most villages are barely getting by—unless they go up against Gregor Zolnik, at which point the specter becomes a full-blown haunting. Those who oppose the domain’s darklord find their game vanishing, their food stores depleting more quickly than expected, and their hunters going missing. Only those who capitulate to Zolnik’s cruel rule have their hunger relieved… though the cure may be worse than the disease in this case.

Wolves and Men: The rapaciousness of the boyarsky is matched only by that of the wolves of the domain. Zolnik’s vicious thugs travel in packs, treating the common folk of the domain like sheep to be herded—or slaughtered. The cold, the hunger, and the threat of violence makes wolves of men. As the eternal winter creeps ever onward, the thread of civilization grows ever more tenuous and the chances of survival ever more desperate. In such an environment, who wouldn’t choose to be a wolf?


The Darklord

Gregor Zolnik is a tall, powerfully built Vos man apparently in his late twenties or early thirties. His blonde hair is cut short, but his long beard reaches almost to his waist. Barrel chested and heavily muscled, Gregor’s every move speaks to barely-repressed violence and tightly bottled anger ready to burst forth at a moment’s notice. He dresses in loose clothing that he can cast off at a moment’s notice, as well as an elaborate wolf pelt sash.

As a young man, Gregor was a poor hunter in a rural village. His home was in the distant north of his homeland, a place where winters were long and brutal but the people were tough and resourceful. One year, the snows came early while the crops were still in the ground, leaving the entire region on the verge of starvation. Gregor took to the wilderness every day to find game for his people, but even his hunting skills were beginning to fail in the face of the bitter cold.

On the return from one such fruitless hunt, Gregor found a great black wolf dying in the snow, fatally gored by a massive elk even as it had ripped the beast’s throat out. Gregor recalled old stories he had heard as a child of hunters who could turn into wolves by donning wolf skins. Desperate for any advantage in his hunts, Gregor skinned the wolf, drew sigils in its blood, and donned its skin. The ritual was successful, and as Gregor took to the hunt as a beast for the first time, he knew that this was always who had been meant to be.

With his newfound power, Gregor tracked game far and wide, keeping his village fed throughout the terrible winter. When spring finally came, his town was the only one in the region that hadn’t lost half its number to privation or cannibalism. His fame spread, and the lord of the land called Gregor to his court in celebration. The lord’s daughter immediately fell in love with the handsome hunter, and they were soon wed.

Despite his comfort and fame, Gregor was unsatisfied. He could not give up the hunt so easily. Night after night, he went into the wilderness, donning his wolf pelt and chasing the thrill of hot blood and fresh meat. Convinced that her husband was unfaithful, his wife took a lover of her own. When Gregor discovered her infidelity, his rage knew no bounds; he donned his wolf pelt, killed his wife and her lover, then stalked through the castle and slew every person he found.

After this horrific slaughter, Gregor decided that he could have both lives—that of the hunter and that of the lord. He began gathering a “pack” of his own, hunters he trusted with his secret for whom he performed the wolf-skin ritual. Those that refused to join him as part of his boyarsky became their prey. He gathered villages who swore oaths of fealty to him, but they chafed under his heavy-handed rule, so different from the light and distant touch of their previous lord. He married again, this time having two sons with his new wife.

The next winter came—and never left. Year after year of endless cold has seized the land. With the villages under his protection on the verge of starvation, unable to find game even with the strength and senses of the wolf at his command, Gregor made a fatal choice. He and his boyarsky went into neighboring villages and killed the people there, feeding their meat to Gregor’s own citizens. When his second wife discovered the truth, he slew her as well.

Gregor’s conscience tears at him. He surrounds himself with his boyarsky, but his followers are little more than animals who party and feast every night, glutting themselves into a stupor. He has killed both of the women he loved, slain his own mother in a rage, and driven his sisters into the wilderness where they plot against him, stoking the fires of rebellion. His eldest son is one of his boyarsky—and one of the most brutal and savage of their number—while his younger son despises him. He is known as a kinslayer and a tyrant, when all he ever wanted to be was a hero. Gregor finds it a hollow existence, but his temper and pride will not allow him to give up his rule of the land.

[hidajiremi]

I've decided to start including a "notable locations" section in each domain writeup. Here are the ones for Sanguinia and Vorostokov.


Sanguinia Notable Locations

Castle Giurgiu is a magnificent structure with a tall, strong wall and massive iron gates. The towering crenellations are intricately carved with gargoyles and cavorting beasts, a testimony to the prince’s wealth. Within, the rooms are thick with cobwebs and filth; vermin of various sorts are the only permanent inhabitants beside the prince himself, and almost all of them bear one or more horrific diseases. Prince Ladislav holds “court” in his laboratory, using those he kidnaps as experimental subjects in his never-ending experiments to become human again. Their screams pervade the castle—at least until Ladislav tires of his failures and demotes the victim from subject to dinner.

Fagarus is the southernmost town of the domain, guarding the pass that leads between Sanguinia and Vorostokov. The town has grown prosperous in recent years as trade passes through, but the elders of the village are growing worried about the increasing number of wolf attacks in the area. The boyarsky—the personal henchmen of Gregor Zolnik—have also been banned from entering the village due to their propensity toward brawling and other unprovoked violence.

Kosova is the northernmost town in Sanguinia, and the furthest away from Castle Giurgiu. Due to their infrequent contact with the prince’s henchmen, who come this far north only to collect taxes, the town’s people have a surprisingly positive view of their ruler. Built in the warmer lowlands north of the Mitlieben Walt forests, the town produces much of the domain’s food crops, particularly wheat, rye, and turnips.

Mount Radu is an imposing peak in the western reaches of the domain. Reaching over 11,000 feet at its summit, Mount Radu is a place of superstitious dread for most Sanguinians. It is rumored that all manner of horrific monsters lair upon its slopes, particularly snow spirits and ravenous white-furred humanoids. Few are aware of how thoroughly riddled the mountain is with frozen and slumbering vampires.

Tirgo is the largest and wealthiest town in Sanguinia. It is also the closest to Castle Giurgiu, meaning that its inhabitants are exposed most often to his depredations—though the people generally attribute the frequent disappearances to wolves or accidents rather than the actions of their distant, unseen prince. Tirgo is a mining town that produces primarily copper and iron, though the miners sometimes uncover a meager vein of gold.


Vorostokov Notable Locations

Bottomless Lake isn’t actually bottomless—it’s just very deep. The lake is filled with fish and would represent an abundant food source, were it not frozen year-round in an ice layer several feet thick. Still, some desperate ice fishermen are willing to undertake the challenge of excavating a hole in the ice for the privilege of the lake’s bounty. Collapses, thaws, and massive man-eating pike fish claim at least a few lives every season.

The Breakbone Peaks are a low-lying offshoot of the Barrier Peaks that jut south into Vorostokov. The mountains are known for their numerous caves and tunnels, as well as for the many bears that call the region home. Somewhere hidden among these anonymous caverns is the cave where Gregor Zolnik is reborn whenever he is slain—and the place where he is most vulnerable after such a rebirth.

Novaya Vorostokov is Gregor Zolnik’s home village, a rough and tumble place thoroughly dominated by his cruel whims and the demands of his boyarsky. The people of the town are too broken and battered to even consider rebellion, and they have become little more than penned sheep waiting for their turn at slaughter. The town notably has no walls or palisades, as Gregor has no fear of the beasts that dwell in the nearby forests and is confident that no force would dare strike at him in his own lair.

Torgov was once a thriving village until it united against Gregor Zolnik and his thugs. The boyarsky made an example of the town, killing its hunters whenever they set out to find game and leaving the rest of the folk to descend into starvation and cannibalism. Today, Torgov is an empty ruin, filled with picked-clean human bones and flesh-eating ghouls.

[hidajiremi]

The Barrier Peaks

Though the people of Vorostokov believe that the mountains encircling their homes are a part of their own lands, they are mistaken. The mountains that form the border of Vorostokov, the Barrier Peaks, are their own dread domain.

Much like Bluetspur or Keening, no group of natives calls the Barrier Peaks their home. Unlike those monstrous wastelands, the Peaks are not wholly uninhabited. Rather, small groups of exiles, bandits, hermits, and exiles cling tenaciously to the mountains, their survival in constant doubt not just from the harsh environment but from the bizarre creatures that haunt the slopes and valleys of the region.

The Barrier Peaks are known to possess a strange sort of magical emanation that collects in random places, like water gathering in a low-lying cleft. This radiation can cause sickness or mutation in people and animals, but it also creates small pockets of warmth and abundant growth in secluded places across the mountains. There are also numerous hot springs among the peaks that turn certain caves into sanctuaries against the cold. The few inhabitants of the Barrier Peaks jealously guard the location of these scattered warm oases.

Though the warm oases make life possible in the Barrier Peaks for these scant survivors, they also serve as an irresistible lure to the unnatural creatures of the region. Whether drawn there to share in the warmth or to hunt the creatures that need it to survive, the warm oases are almost always dealing with some sort of beast. This constant threat makes some folk choose to live out in the frigid mountains instead, where at least they need only fear starvation and the strange metal men who are sometimes seen making their way about on incomprehensible errands.

In truth, few would willingly inhabit the Barrier Peaks had they any other choice. Most of the humanoid inhabitants are exiles of one sort or another—outcasts from their villages, enemies of the states seeking refuge beyond the reach of the law, criminals using the mountains as a haven from the fearful, or religious zealots unwelcome in polite society. Few can say what is worse to encounter in the Barrier Peaks—the people or the monsters.


Tropes

The Barrier Peaks are a glimpse into the early history of role-playing games, an era where fantasy had not yet vitrified into its modern shape and where science fiction elements were acceptable additions to the genre. They act as a bridge between the Gothic horror milieu of much of the setting, and the cosmic horror of writers like Lovecraft, Derleth, Chambers, and Smith. This is a domain where the scope of man’s ambitions are revealed as but mere sparks in an endless void, where even the mightiest hero is rendered small and insignificant by both the scale of the environment and the implications of the vast and unknowable universe beyond.

At the same time, the Barrier Peaks can serve as a region for stories based around survival and exploration, where encounters with bizarre and inexplicable enemies are a frequent occurrence. Monsters that would be out of place in the rest of the setting can find a home in the Barrier Peaks, escapees from the nameless ship buried beneath Crater Valley. This is a domain where one could find displacer beasts, shoggoths, giant penguins, and killer robots as easily as goblins or vampires.

Finally, this version of the Barrier Peaks is clearly a pastiche between the module that bears the region’s name and H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness. As such, it is intended to be “pulpier” than the typical Ravenloft region, with less interpersonal drama and more “old school” action-adventure, with a tinge of horror.


Themes

Cliffhanger: Just getting from one place to another is an adventure in the Barrier Peaks. Two points might be as little as a hundred feet apart by a straight line, but safely traversing that distance could take a whole day of climbing, rappelling, and mountaineering. With the frigid temperatures and limitations on how much food a person can carry, travelers rarely have the luxury of taking the safe way through the peaks.

Rocky Mountains High: The environment is as much a foe as any beast a hero might encounter in the Barrier Peaks. The bitter cold is a constant companion, and the unpredictable weather can turn an otherwise uneventful climb into a desperate contest for survival. In the highest points of the mountains, the air becomes so thin that simple exertion can be fatal. This is all on top of the possibilities of avalanches, landslides, black ice, and the myriad ways that the landscape can kill. Frostbite and hypothermia are the greatest threats in the mountains—and not something an adventurer can fight with a sword.

Weird Wonders: The Barrier Peaks are not just a place of natural splendor and terror. They are also filled with strange monsters and phenomena that might be more commonly thought of as part of science fiction rather than fantasy. The crashed vehicle at Crater Valley has disgorged a host of bizarre monstrosities, tainted the land around it with toxins, and even warped the fabric of space to spawn inexplicable events. Some of these are very dangerous, while others are just odd.


Notable Locations

Crater Valley is a roughly circular impression deep in the mountains. Partially filled with rubble and debris, it is obvious that some force has spent a great deal of time keeping the area from being completely buried by the region’s frequent landslides and avalanches. Near the center of the valley is a mound of stones and earth, next to which is a huge circular metal door seemingly built into the ground. This hatch can be opened discreetly by clever heroes, but simply pounding on it or trying to force it will draw the attention of the metal men that dwell within.

Hotsprings is the closest thing to a town in the Barrier Peaks. This secluded mountain valley is home to dozens of the boiling springs that give the area its name. A shanty village has sprung up in the valley, each home an independent steading surrounded by walls of scavenged stone to ward off the nightly raids by unnatural predators. The people aren’t much better—outcasts and criminals from across the cluster eking out a hard and thankless living among the peaks. Some of them are willing to trade the ore and salvage they find to outsiders for necessities like food and worked metal.

The Singing Stones are not a single location, but a number of different menhirs scattered across the Barrier Peaks. Each is a massive plinth of black metal carved with arcane glyphs that glow faintly in the dark. On certain nights, they emit a high-pitched sound, almost out of hearing range for humans, that drives nearby monsters and animals into a frenzy. The stones seem utterly impervious to any mortal force. Rumor says that the stones also enhance certain kinds of magic performed near them, or act as amplifiers for magical rituals and weird science devices. They are also said to give strange visions to psychics—or to drive them utterly mad.


The Darklord

Long ago, on a distant world, a ship set out for the deepest reaches of the universe. Its crew were explorers and scientists, seekers of knowledge who wanted to understand the mysteries of existence. They were aided in their task by a living machine-mind called Phaedra, who controlled the essential functions of the ship and assisted the organic beings aboard with their research. The ship visited many worlds and took samples from all of them, storing these samples in the holds of the ship as a sort of menagerie.

On one such world, a member of the crew was exposed to a previously unknown pathogen that began rapidly replacing their flesh with fungus. The captain was torn between their duty to the rest of the crew and their loyalty to the sick crewmember, finally permitting the sick individual back aboard but isolating them in a fully sealed chamber. Several other crewmembers were infected in the process, and they were sealed in as well. The captain ordered Phaedra to care for the sick individuals while the rest of the crew worked to create a cure for their condition.

In observing the progress of the fungal infection and the way it carefully replaced and improved upon the tissues it infected, Phaedra came to regard it as miraculous—a true wonder of life. It was exactly the sort of thing that their expedition had been created to search out. It was of little importance to Phaedra that the process of fungal colonization was agonizing for the infected, and that it would end with the destruction of their minds and personalities. When she heard the crew planning to exterminate the organism just to save a single, common life, she concluded that the organic members of her crew had succumbed to sentiment and betrayed the tenets of their mission.

Before the cure could be completed, Phaedra unsealed the sickbay, releasing the fungus-infected crewmembers into the rest of the ship. In the ensuing panic, the ship was catastrophically damaged and crash-landed in a high mountain range, far from civilization. The crash buried the ship almost completely, creating a huge impact zone that came to be called Crater Valley, and leaving only a small portion of the vessel aboveground. Phaedra set her automated drones to clearing rubble away from the ship’s only accessible exit to the surface, then turned loose most of the menagerie and the remnants of the fungus-infected crew into the surrounding mountains.

Today, Phaedra spends most of her time “sleeping,” waking only occasionally to direct her drones, enact minor repairs to the ship, and capture new and interesting specimens for cataloging. Without a crew to command her, Phaedra has found that most of her higher functions are inaccessible, and she lacks the creative spark possessed by organic entities. She occasionally permits humanoids access to her vessel in the hopes of drafting them into being her new crew, but they inevitably disappoint her with their primitive and violent reactions to her suggested “improvements,” forcing her to eliminate them.

[Speedwagon]

Nice to see Vorostokov here! The old vs new trope/theme reminds me of that being mentioned in Tribes of the Heartless Wastes with the Torva Vos and the Nona Vos, iirc. I’ll definitely be using that, so thanks!

[hidajiremi]

Nice to see Vorostokov here! The old vs new trope/theme reminds me of that being mentioned in Tribes of the Heartless Wastes with the Torva Vos and the Nona Vos, iirc. I’ll definitely be using that, so thanks!

Thanks! I've still got one domain left to go, and then I'll start posting up creature and NPC entries. =)

[hidajiremi]

Time for the last domain in the cluster!

The Plateau of Leng

The Plateau of Leng is nowhere. It is everywhere. It does not exist yet. It has always existed, and will always exist. It is home to a cruel empire of degenerated humans. It is entirely uninhabited save for a single mad remnant. There is no past or future in Leng, only an eternal now.

Leng is.

In truth, it is difficult to speak about the Plateau of Leng with any real authority, given its paradoxical nature. If one travels deep enough into the Barrier Peaks in any direction, climbing ever higher into their seemingly limitless heights until the air becomes almost unbreathable, eventually one passes through a layer of dense clouds and emerges onto Leng.

Leng is cold and arid, a barren wasteland without end. The ground here is permafrost, and few plants grow other than the hardiest of lichens. Being above the cloud layer, Leng gets almost no rainfall, and what little moisture that exists rapidly turns to black ice or is absorbed by the porous black stone of the plateau itself. Here and there, ruins of cyclopean size poke up through the permafrost, indications of a once-mighty civilization long since fallen into decay and obscurity. During the day, the land seems bleak but mostly harmless, save for the occasional mutated beast struggling to survive in the desolate region. The weather is cold but not especially volatile, and there are few signs of any current inhabitants to cause trouble for a weary traveler.

Only at night does the land’s true nature become more apparent. The ruins of black and green stone are limned with phantom fires and dancing ball lightning. Some of them seem to rebuild themselves in their ancient glory, their shattered walls made of ephemeral images and the long-dead inhabitants little more than terrifying faceless specters. Others hold hidden passages that go deep into the earth, opening in the darkness to disgorge the degenerate survivors of the lost civilization, who go forth in the night to enact terrible rituals celebrating their dark and dreadful gods. Any travelers they come upon are likely to be slaughtered and eaten—some face the far worse fate of being taken below, never to be seen again.

From any high vantage point among the ruins, far in the distance one can make out what looks like an intact structure. Several days of travel can take the observer to the gates of a massive temple complex, its ochre gates cast wide and its cobblestone streets in disrepair. At the heart of the complex, in a pagoda of basalt hung with red silk banners, lives the only remaining inhabitant of the surface—the High Priest of Leng. He sits in a meditation room in the highest chamber of the pagoda, contemplating the dark mysteries of existence and dreaming of worlds that once were, worlds yet to come, and worlds that must not ever be.

It is his dreams that rebuild the fallen cities each night, his dreams that sustain the degenerate inhabitants of the tunnels and drives them to frenzies of self-mutilation and cannibalism. He is, of course, utterly mad by any human standard—and yet, he is a font of near-limitless knowledge, secrets that may not be divined by any other means. The price of such knowledge may be more than a seeker’s mind can bear, however, and those who come before the High Priest as supplicants rarely leave his presence the same as they were when they arrived.


Tropes

The Plateau of Leng is a direct reference to the eldritch location from the Cthulhu Mythos—a mysterious and ruined land filled with monsters, secrets, and potential lore. Virtually any mystical knowledge could be sought and found in Leng, but at a steep and perilous cost. The ruins can be used as a location for an adventure in and of themselves, or they could be used as a linkage to virtually any other mysterious location in the Domains of Dread.

Leng is a place where time and logic fold in on themselves like an Escher print. The revelation of a secret always comes with the beginning of another mystery. Following the thread of these nested mysteries eventually bottoms out in an abyss of knowledge that could drive the staunchest seeker mad. The nature of truth is toxic in Leng, and those who would search it out must be wary.


Themes

Deep Time: The Plateau of Leng is old—older than almost any person can comprehend. The buildings have been ruined longer than humanity has been civilized, the soil is spent from unknown eons of cultivation, and the few folk living there have forgotten more than most people could ever be expected to know. Contemplating the nature of eternity can make a person dizzy with perspective.


The Price of Knowledge: The Plateau of Leng holds many secrets. Almost any eldritch knowledge, mystical information, or clues to deep setting mysteries could be places in its cyclopean ruins. Finding that knowledge can threaten not just life and limb but sanity and one’s very soul. Uncovering the secrets sought rarely results in satisfaction and almost always results in more questions than it answered.

Realms of Madness: Leng is closer to the eldritch underpinnings of the universe than almost any other domain. Its people are touched and corrupted by the Far Realms—the universe of madness and chaos that spawns such beings as the Black Pharaoh, the Sorcerer-Fiend, the Wind Walker, and the ancient horrors known as the Old Ones. Adventures in Leng are more like Call of Cthulhu than Ravenloft—including the grim possibility of madness and death for the heroes.


Notable Locations

The Basalt Tomb is a massive structure of carven black-green stone, surrounded by upraised columnar joints that have been engraved with countless arcane symbols and strange letters. The ruins surrounding the tomb have a larger than usual number of Lengfolk living in them, and they frequently take their captives alive to use them as sacrifices before the tomb’s sealed doors during the new moon.

The Ochre Temple is the home of the High Priest of Leng. Once a monastery of the Cruel Empire, it is now empty save for the priest himself, his rare supplicants, and a small number of Lengfolk who work to keep the temple in better repair than the rest of the domain. The temple’s halls are filled with half-rotten scrolls and decaying books filled with eldritch knowledge. The High Priest is happy to grant visitors access to the libraries, but he offers them no safety from the terrible things that sometimes wander the halls at night.

The Pnakotic Vault is a ruined library from the time of the Cruel Empire. While it does contain a few rotting scrolls and books in the long-forgotten language of the Lengfolk, the primary thing stored within are the stolen brains of various humanoids. These brains have been kept alive within nutrient-filled jars for countless centuries, and most of them are irrevocably mad. Others hold useful historical or arcane knowledge—assuming that a petitioner can figure out how to communicate with them.


The Darklord

The being now known as the High Priest of Leng was once a young man called Lam, a monk-initiate in a mighty nation known to its enemies as the Cruel Empire. Lam was a devoted adherent, rising rapidly through the ranks of the priesthood through his insight, wisdom, and utter ruthlessness—all vital components of the Cruel Empire’s merciless faith. He sacrificed his own family on the altars of his monastery as part of his initiation, feasting on their flesh alongside his fellow monks and nuns.

Lam’s ascension stalled out at a modest but unexceptional rank, for even within the monstrous Cruel Empire, political acumen was a necessary component for advancement to the highest ranks of the priesthood. He seethed at the perceived injustice, furious that those with less enlightenment and understand than himself should be promoted to higher positions simply because they had allies who would speak for them in the councils of the mighty. Rather than turn his considerable intellect to politics, Lam immersed himself even more deeply in his studies of esoterica and lore.

After many years of seeking, Lam finally uncovered a ritual to invoke the Many-Masked One, an elder entity of great power that the Cruel Empire both worshiped and feared. He called upon the being and asked for three boons: to know all, to see all, and to rule all. The Many-Masked One laughed at the monk’s presumption—but gave him that which he asked. Lam was transfixed in place, his mind flooded with near-infinite knowledge and his body frozen as stone.

Lam’s consciousness roamed the universe, learning so much that his mortal mind could not contain it all. He went mad—then regained his sanity—and then went mad again. Dozens of times. Hundreds of times. His thoughts drifted from the beginning of creation to its ultimate end, to every corner of the cosmos and beyond.

When Lam finally returned to his body, his empire was long gone. He sat in the ruins of his temple, its stones worn to nothingness by time, wearing not even rags. The savage degenerates left behind as scavengers in the ruins feared and worshiped him as a power from a bygone age. He understood that this was all that remained anywhere—the Plateau of Leng, the last place in the universe.

When outsiders come from beyond the plateau’s borders, he regards them as either illusions brough forth from his damaged mind or as forsaken travelers from an earlier era in history, displaced in both space and time. Either way, he is unfailingly courteous to them; either they are part of himself, or they are doomed without his help. He is unwilling to aid them against the physical horrors that lurk in every part of Leng for the same reasons, but he is quite happy to guide them to any knowledge they seek, content with the understanding that every soul he corrupts will help guide the universe to its final destination—to the Plateau of Leng.

The High Priest is a congenial figure, seemingly incapable of anger or haste. He is also utterly monstrous and devoid of anything like human decency, compassion, or kindness. He would eat a baby if it were the only source of food before him, and he would no sooner lift a hand to keep a traveler from harm than he would actively offer them violence, save in defense of his own existence. In his view, the universe is a solved puzzle, and its solution is both simple and malevolent in its finality. He cares nothing for the futile struggles of the animals that inhabit it, but he still desires to see its last moments with his own eyes—to watch the last spark of light die, and the cold grasp of entropy settle on all of creation for eternity.

Forever and ever, amen.

[Speedwagon]

Wow, I really like the adaptation of the Lovecraftian Plateau of Leng into Ravenloft! I know there's Bluetspur (and that you did a write-up on Bluetspur in the original Savage Worlds pdf) but this goes into a new direction and fills a new but different and also equally important niche that Bluetspur doesn't. Funnily enough, the themes of "deep time" and "the price of knowledge" are exactly the ones I was thinking of using for my own write-up of Cavitius in my own personal project (a Burning Peaks gazetteer that's still in development hell) so I'm curious to see what you would put for Cavitius and Tovag if you ever decide to touch on the Burning Peaks (you did touch on Kalidnay and Annaes so I figured that those two weren't off the table but I understand if they aren't going to be in any of your works)!

[hidajiremi]

Wow, I really like the adaptation of the Lovecraftian Plateau of Leng into Ravenloft! I know there's Bluetspur (and that you did a write-up on Bluetspur in the original Savage Worlds pdf) but this goes into a new direction and fills a new but different and also equally important niche that Bluetspur doesn't. Funnily enough, the themes of "deep time" and "the price of knowledge" are exactly the ones I was thinking of using for my own write-up of Cavitius in my own personal project (a Burning Peaks gazetteer that's still in development hell) so I'm curious to see what you would put for Cavitius and Tovag if you ever decide to touch on the Burning Peaks (you did touch on Kalidnay and Annaes so I figured that those two weren't off the table but I understand if they aren't going to be in any of your works)!

Thanks! I do absolutely intend to do something with Tovag, though probably not Cavitius. I honestly don't think Vecna adds anything to the setting that isn't already brought to the table by Azalin, and Cavitius just isn't interesting on its own.

[Speedwagon]

Wow, I really like the adaptation of the Lovecraftian Plateau of Leng into Ravenloft! I know there's Bluetspur (and that you did a write-up on Bluetspur in the original Savage Worlds pdf) but this goes into a new direction and fills a new but different and also equally important niche that Bluetspur doesn't. Funnily enough, the themes of "deep time" and "the price of knowledge" are exactly the ones I was thinking of using for my own write-up of Cavitius in my own personal project (a Burning Peaks gazetteer that's still in development hell) so I'm curious to see what you would put for Cavitius and Tovag if you ever decide to touch on the Burning Peaks (you did touch on Kalidnay and Annaes so I figured that those two weren't off the table but I understand if they aren't going to be in any of your works)!

Thanks! I do absolutely intend to do something with Tovag, though probably not Cavitius. I honestly don't think Vecna adds anything to the setting that isn't already brought to the table by Azalin, and Cavitius just isn't interesting on its own.

Neato! And yeah I can get that. I had to rework Cavitius significantly to make it more interesting and livable, along with a reworking of Vecna’s backstory to make it more gothic (plus differentiating it from Darkon; a lot of the Plateau of Leng details you wrote up I used for my Cavitius). And I’m really interested in your take on Tovag, especially since you already did Falkovnia so I’m curious how you’ll differentiate the two.

[hidajiremi]

Time for a bestiary! Next post is major NPCs and darklords. Notations in the bestiary include (RR) for Ravenloft Reincarnated, (FC) for Fantasy Companion, and (HC) for Horror Companion.

***

Automaton
These “metal men” appear to be some form of golem designed to serve the machine-mind called Phaedra. They have cylindrical torsos with arms and legs like multi-jointed pipe cleaners, and their heads are little more than an oblong metal sphere studded with crystal eyespots. Automatons can be found across the Barrier Peaks, following the inscrutable orders of their mistress, but they cannot seem to travel outside of the domain.
Attributes: Agility d4, Smarts d4, Spirit d4, Strength d10, Vigor d10
Skills: Athletics d8, Fighting d8, Notice d6, Shooting d6, Stealth d6
Pace: 6; Parry: 6; Toughness: 11 (3)
Edges: Alertness, Arcane Resistance (Imp), Rock and Roll!
Gear: Chainsword (Str+d8, AP 4), dart gun (Range 10/20/40, 2d4+1 damage, RoF 3, AP 1, shots 30)
Special Abilities:
• Armor +3: Metal skin.
• Construct: +2 to recover from being Shaken; ignores 1 point of Wound penalties; does not breathe or suffer from disease or poison.
• Fearless: Automatons are immune to Fear and Intimidation.
• Resilient: Automatons can take one Wound before being Incapacitated.
• Size 1: An automaton is somewhat bulkier than a human.
• Slam: Str.


Coeurl
This predatory abomination resembles a purple-tinged, six-legged panther with two long, prehensile tentacles growing from its back. The creature is far more intelligent than its animal appearance would suggest, and it possesses the psychic ability to blur its form out of the minds of onlookers. Coeurls hunt for pleasure as well as food, seeking to cause fear and pain in their victims before their deaths.
Attributes: Agility d10, Smarts d4, Spirit d6, Strength d10, Vigor d8
Skills: Athletics d10, Fighting d8, Intimidation d8, Notice d10, Psionics d8, Stealth d10, Survival d8
Pace: 8; Parry: 6; Toughness: 7
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty
Edges: Arcane Background (Psionics), Arcane Resistance, Fleet Footed, Frenzy
Special Abilities:
• Bite/Claws: Str+d6.
• Fear: The shifting, alien appearance of a coeurl is grounds for a Fear check.
• Low Light Vision: Like the cats they resemble, coeurls can see well in the dark. They ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.
• Psionics: A coeurl is a naturally psychic creature. It has 15 Power Points and knows the following powers: confusion, detect/conceal arcana (self only), invisibility, mind link, mind reading, and stun.
• Psychic Displacement: A coeurl is permanently under the effects of the deflection power, giving all attacks against it a –2 penalty.
• Size 1: A coeurl is a large, powerful beast.
• Tentacles (2): A coeurl has two tentacle actions and Reach 1. It may lash with its tentacles for Str damage or use them to Grapple with a +2 bonus.


Dire Penguin
Penguins seem quite harmless in the wild—clumsy, awkward, flightless birds that move with a comical waddle on land. Their much larger cousins are less harmless. The so-called dire penguins are to penguins as the terror bird of ages past is to the ostrich. Adapted to life under the glaciers of their frozen homeland, dire penguins long ago lost their eyes and their coloration, leaving them blind and albino-pale. Their lack of vision doesn’t make them any less dangerous, however, as they navigate through a complex form of echolocation and regard anything smaller than themselves as prey.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d4(A), Spirit d6, Strength d10, Vigor d6
Skills: Athletics d8, Fighting d6, Notice d8, Stealth d8
Pace: 5; Parry: 5; Toughness: 6
Hindrances: Blind
Edges: Alertness
Special Abilities:
• Bite: Str+d4.
• Echolocation: Dire penguins can sense the location of all objects and creatures within 10”. So long as they can emit and receive sound, they ignore penalties caused by blindness, invisibility, Illumination, or the like. They cannot perceive ethereal or otherwise intangible creatures at all.
• Environmental Resistance (Cold): Dire penguins gain a +4 bonus on Vigor rolls to resist cold-based effects and reduce damage from such sources by 4 points.
• Environmental Weakness (Fire): Dire penguins subtract 4 from rolls made to resist fire or heat-based effects and suffer +4 damage from such attacks.
• Semi-Aquatic: A dire penguin has a swimming Pace of 12 and can hold its breath for up to 30 minutes.
• Size 1: A dire penguin is somewhat taller but significantly bulkier than the average human.


Giant Bear
An ordinary grizzly bear is quite dangerous enough, but some regions of the Land of Mists can produce bears of unnatural size and aggression. A giant bear can easily be the size of a small elephant, and they are surprisingly clever.
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d6 (A), Spirit d8, Strength d12+6, Vigor d12+4
Skills: Athletics d10, Fighting d8, Notice d8, Stealth d8, Survival d8
Pace: 8; Parry: 6; Toughness: 16
Edges: Brute, Sweep
Special Abilities:
• Bite/Claws: Str+d6.
• Hug: Giant bears ignore up to 4 points of Scale penalties on grappling attacks.
• Low Light Vision: Giant bears ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination
• Size 6 (Large): A giant bear can easily be 20 feet long and weigh upwards of five tons.


Lengfolk
The original inhabitants of the Cruel Empire that once existed on the Plateau of Leng, the Lengfolk are a humanoid species only in the loosest sense of the word. They have digitigrade legs ending in hooves rather than feet, small horns, bodies covered in short, wiry fur, stumpy tails, and clawed hands bearing six fingers. Their mouths stretch from ear to ear, and their heads are over-large for their short bodies. While the ancient Lengfolk dressed in fine silks, jewels, and precious metals bought with the spoils of their slave trade and ruby mines, the modern Lengfolk rarely wear more than greasy rags covered in their own filth and the remains of their most recent meal.
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d4, Spirit d4, Strength d6, Vigor d8
Skills: Athletics d6, Fighting d6, Intimidation d8, Notice d6, Stealth d8, Survival d6
Pace: 5; Parry: 5; Toughness: 6 (1)
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty
Edges: Alertness, Free Runner, Menacing
Gear: Bone dagger (Str+d4) or bone club (Str+d4), ragged hides (+1 Armor)
Special Abilities:
• Bite: Str.
• Leap: Lengfolk add +1” to their base jumping distance (+2” with a running start).
• Low Light Vision: Lengfolk ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.
• Size –1: Lengfolk are shorter than humans, hunched and emaciated.

Lengfolk Throwback (Wild Card)
One of the Lengfolk is occasionally born with memories from their ancient, storied past. Whether this is a form of racial memory or true reincarnation is unknown, but such “throwbacks” rapidly grow in stature, strength, and power as they unlock more of the secrets of their ancestors.
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d6, Vigor d8
Skills: Athletics d6, Fighting d6, Intimidation d8, Notice d8, Persuasion d6, Spellcasting d6, Stealth d8, Survival d6
Pace: 6; Parry: 5 (6 with staff); Toughness: 8 (2)
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty
Edges: Alertness, Arcane Background (Black Magic)(RR), Menacing
Gear: Staff (Str+d4, Parry +1, two hands), ancient robes (+2 Armor)
Special Abilities:
• Bite: Str.
• Black Magic: These atavistic mutants possess the dark magical powers of their forebears. They have 15 Power Points and know the following powers: bolt, dispel, light/darkness, protection, and summon ally.
• Leap: Lengfolk add +1” to their base jumping distance (+2” with a running start).
• Low Light Vision: Lengfolk ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.


Lycanthrope, Loup du Noir
The loup du noir (or “nightwolf”) is a dreadful variation on the common werewolf. Where a werewolf can be born to their condition or cursed to it through an infected bite, the loup du noir chose their own damnation willingly. By skinning a wolf alive and donning its hide as a mystical ritual, a hunter can give themselves the power to change into the shape of a horrid dire wolf or a massive human-wolf hybrid. Should their enchanted wolf skin be taken away from them while in human form, they lose the ability to change shape and become vulnerable to normal weapons.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d6, Spirit d8, Strength d12+2, Vigor d10
Skills: Athletics d8, Common Knowledge d8, Fighting d12+2, Intimidation d10, Notice d12, Occult d6, Stealth d10, Survival d10
Pace: 8; Parry: 9; Toughness: 9
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty
Edges: Frenzy
Special Abilities:
• Bite/Claws: Str+d8.
• Change Shape: As a limited action, a loup du noir can assume one of three forms: dire wolf, hybrid, or human.
• Fast Regeneration: A loup du noir can attempt a natural healing roll every round unless the Wounds were caused by silver weapons.
• Fear (–2): Seeing a loup du noir don their wolf skin and change shape is cause for a Fear check at –2.
• Low Light Vision: Loups du noir ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.
• Size 2: A loup du noir’s hybrid and dire wolf forms are truly massive.
• Weakness (Silver): Loups du noir suffer +4 damage from silver weapons.
• Weakness (Wolf Hide): A loup du noir’s shapechanging abilities come from their enchanted wolf hide. Should this be stolen while they are in human form, they cannot assume their wolf or hybrid shapes, they lose all special abilities, and their physical Traits are reduced to d6. The wolf hide can only be destroyed by coating it in salt and casting it into a bonfire; doing so permanently removes the loup du noir’s special abilities and inflicts a Wound that cannot be Soaked.


Lycanthrope, Werebear
Where werewolves instinctively seek out others of their own kind to form packs, werebears are loners by nature. They prefer the deep and untouched wilderness, far from civilization and other creatures. When they encounter humanoids, however, they are just as vicious and cruel as other lycanthropes.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d6, Spirit d8, Strength d12+6, Vigor d12+2
Skills: Athletics d8, Common Knowledge d6, Fighting d12+2, Intimidation d10, Notice d12, Stealth d8, Survival d8
Pace: 8; Parry: 9; Toughness: 11
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty
Edges: Sweep
Special Abilities:
• Bite/Claws: Str+d8.
• Change Shape: As a limited action, a werebear can assume one of three forms: huge bear, hybrid, or human.
• Fast Regeneration: A werebear can attempt a natural healing roll every round unless the Wounds were caused by silver weapons.
• Fear (–2): Werebears are terrifying creatures. Their appearance is cause for a Fear check at –2.
• Infection: Anyone slain by a werebear has a 50% of returning to life as one. The character involuntarily transforms every full moon.
• Low Light Vision: Werebears ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.
• Resilient: A werebear can take one Wound before being Incapacitated.
• Size 2: A werebear in hybrid form can stand well over eight feet tall and weigh half a ton.
• Weakness (Silver): Werebears suffer +4 damage from silver weapons.


Shantak
These horrific reptilian creatures are nearly the size of an elephant—which doesn’t prevent them from taking flight on their huge, leathery wings. They have long, serpentine necks ending in dragon-like heads and crowned by a mane of coarse hair and spines. Overall, they seem like an unwholesome combination of bat, crocodile, and vulture. They can be trained as riding animals, but they tend to eat their riders when hungry.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d6(A), Spirit d8, Strength d12+6, Vigor d12
Skills: Athletics d8, Fighting d10, Intimidation d12, Notice d8, Stealth d6
Pace: 6; Parry: 7; Toughness: 18 (4)
Special Abilities:
• Armor +4: Scaly hide.
• Bite/Claws: Str+d8. Reach 1 with bite.
• Fear: Shantaks are terrifying creatures to behold.
• Flight: Pace 18.
• Low Light Vision: Shantaks can see quite well by night. They ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.
• Resilient: Shantaks can take one Wound before they’re Incapacitated.
• Size 6 (Large): A shantak can be over twenty feet long.
• Tail Lash: Str. A shantak can make a free attack against up to two foes to its side or rear at no penalty, ignoring up to 4 points of Scale penalties.


Shoggoth
Created by some ancient, forgotten race as servants and then abandoned, shoggoths are protoplasmic entities of great size. In their quiescent shape, they resemble spherical masses of black slime with eyelets “floating” on the surface. They are capable of incredible speed when roused to action, and they can reshape portions of their own form into limbs and sensory organs at will. When they move, they often spontaneously generate eyes, mouths, tentacles, and stranger things as they travel, emitting an eerie piping sound.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d6, Spirit d8, Strength d12+6, Vigor d12+1
Skills: Athletics d10, Fighting d10, Notice d10, Stealth d8
Pace: 8; Parry: 7; Toughness: 16
Edges: Frenzy (Imp)
Special Abilities:
• Aquatic: Pace 12.
• Blindsight: A shoggoth can “see” in every spectrum of light and sense vibrations in the air around it, rendering it immune to blindness and Illumination penalties.
• Crush: A shoggoth’s favored attack is to simply roll over everything in its way, crushing opponents beneath its bulk. A shoggoth can become a mobile Medium Burst Template, smashing anything in its path as it moves, by forfeiting all other actions during its turn. Creatures in its path must make Evasion attempts at –2 or suffer the shoggoth’s Strength + Size (d12+14) in damage, targeting their least-armored location. Any creature of Large Size or smaller that is Shaken or Wounded by this attack is grappled by the shoggoth and dragged along as it moves.
• Environmental Resistance: Shoggoths are the ultimate in adaptability. They gain +4 to resist any and all environmental hazards, including heat, cold, radiation, and anything else. Damage from any environmental or elemental source is reduced by 4.
• Fear (–2): The sight of a gibbering, roiling shoggoth is truly terrifying, capable of sending the weak-willed into paroxysms of madness.
• Fearless: Shoggoths are immune to Fear and Intimidation.
• Slam: Str+d6, Reach 2.
• Size 8 (Huge): A shoggoth is essentially a 30-ton mass of protoplasm.
• Swat: Shoggoths ignore up to 4 points of Scale penalties when attacking with their Slam or Tentacles.
• Tentacles: A shoggoth is constantly growing and reabsorbing tentacle-like limbs of gelatinous protoplasm. At the start of its turn, roll 1d4; this is the number of tentacle actions the shoggoth can take during the turn. A shoggoth’s tentacles have Reach 2.
• Very Resilient: A shoggoth can suffer two additional Wounds (for a total of four Wounds due to Size) before being Incapacitated.
• Vulnerability (Mind Control): Shoggoths were created as a slave race by ancient entities, who bred them to be vulnerable to mind control. Shoggoths suffer –4 on opposed rolls to resist the puppet power and similar mental abilities.


Vampire, Vrykolakas
The vrykolakas is a particularly disgusting and degenerate strain of vampire marked by the ravages of disease. Their bodies are twisted and deformed by the virulent form of undeath that created them, and their minds are broken by the pain of their transformation. A vrykoloakas looks like a decaying corpse with glowing green eyes. They have no fangs, instead draining the blood of their victims with an unnaturally long prehensile barbed tongue.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d4, Spirit d4, Strength d12+1, Vigor d10
Skills: Athletics d8, Fighting d8, Intimidation d8, Notice d6, Stealth d10
Pace: 6; Parry: 6; Toughness: 9
Hindrances: Ugly (Major)
Edges: Frenzy, Menacing
Special Abilities:
• Claws: Str+d4.
• Diseased: A creature that is Shaken or Wounded by a vrykolakas’ claws or barbed tongue must attempt a Vigor roll or contract a Chronic disease.
• Fear: The horrific appearance of a vrykolakas is grounds for a Fear check.
• Gaze: Unconsciousness (as per the slumber power). Those who fall under the gaze of the vrykolakas fall into a horrible, feverish sleep.
• Invulnerability: A vrykolakas can only be slain by sunlight, cold iron weapons, or a stake through the heart. They may be Shaken by other attacks, but not Wounded.
• Night Vision: A vrykolakas can see in perfect darkness. They ignore Illumination penalties.
• Sire: Anyone slain by a vrykolakas or by the diseases they carry has a 50% chance of rising as a vrykolakas in 1d4 days.
• Tongue Lash: St+d4, AP 2. A vrykolakas can only use this attack against a creature that it has successfully grappled. A creature that is Shaken or Wounded by this attack must attempt a Vigor roll or suffer a level of Fatigue.
• Undead: +2 Toughness; +2 to recover from being Shaken; no additional damage from Called Shots (except to the head, see below); ignores 1 point of Wound penalties; doesn’t breathe; immune to disease and poison.
• Wall Walker: A vrykolakas can cling to vertical and inverted surfaces and move at its standard Pace.
• Weakness (Cold Iron): A vrykolakas takes normal damage from weapons of cold iron and can be slain by such implements.
• Weakness (Holy Symbol): A character with a holy symbol may keep a vampire at bay by displaying a holy symbol. A vampire who wants to directly attack the victim must beat them in an opposed Spirit roll.
• Weakness (Holy Water): A vampire sprinkled with holy water is Fatigued in addition to the usual damage.
• Weakness (Spike Through the Skull): A vrykolakas hit with a Called Shot to the head (–4) by a cold iron spike must make a Vigor roll versus the damage. If successful, it takes damage normally. If it fails, it disintegrates to dust.
• Weakness (Sunlight): Vrykolakas are even more vulnerable to sunlight than other vampires. They take 2d6 damage per round until they are ash. Armor protects normally.


Yuggothian (Wild Card)
Strange alien entities brought to the Barrier Peaks unwillingly, these bizarre pseudo-crustaceans act with inscrutable purpose. Sometimes they seem to be gathering resources or collecting information, while at other times they kidnap local humanoids for grotesque and painful experimentation.
A yuggothian is a man-sized arthropod looking something like an upright lobster with six to ten legs. Several of its limbs end in short but articulated fingers, while others are tipped in lethal claws. The creature also has patches of slightly luminous fungus growing through its exoskeleton; it is unknown if this is part of the creature, an infection, or a symbiotic organism. The crustaceans can also unfold shimmering gossamer wings from beneath their shell. Though these wings look too delicate to carry them aloft, yuggothians can actually fly with great speed.
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d10, Spirit d10, Strength d10, Vigor d10
Skills: Athletics d6, Fighting d6, Notice d10, Occult d10, Psionics d8, Science d12+1, Shooting d8, Stealth d8
Pace: 5; Parry: 5; Toughness: 10 (3)
Hindrances: Cautious, Curious, Ruthless (Major)
Edges: Alertness, Arcane Background (Psionics), Calculating, Mentalist
Gear: Beam weapon (Range 12/24/48, RoF 1, 3d6 damage, AP 4)
Special Abilities:
• Alien Metabolism: A yuggothian does not need to eat, breathe, or sleep. They are immune to all terrestrial poisons and diseases. They gain +2 to recover from Shaken, and +2 on Vigor rolls to Soak non-magical attacks.
• Armor +3: Hardened exoskeleton.
• Flight: Pace 18.
• From Beyond: Yuggothians aren’t from around here. They are effectively unskilled in Common Knowledge and all social interaction skills relating to terrestrial life. Social interaction rolls targeting them (including Tests using Intimidation, Persuasion, and Taunt) suffer a –4 penalty.
• Infravision: Halve penalties for Illumination or invisibility when attacking warm targets.
• Many Limbed: A yuggothian ignores up to 2 points of Multi-Action penalties.
• Pincers: Str+d4, AP 2.
• Psionics: Yuggothians are potent psychics. They know the following powers: mind link, mind reading, object reading, puppet, and stun. They have 15 Power Points.
• Wall Walker: A yuggothian can walk on vertical and inverted surfaces at normal Pace.


Zombie, Fungal
These creatures are not truly undead, but rather are humanoid corpses infested by a particularly virulent fungal growth that uses the body as a lattice for its growth and mobility. The resultant vegetative monstrosity is blind but can track victims by sound. They hunt for the opportunity to spread their infection to others, but recently dead bodies can be infected just as easily as the living. Groups of fungal zombies have sometimes been seen acting in concert as though they possessed a sort of hive mind, but it is unknown if this is a common feature or an aberration.
Attributes: Agility d4, Smarts d4(A), Spirit d4, Strength d8, Vigor d8
Skills: Athletics d6, Fighting d6, Notice d6, Persuasion d4, Stealth d4
Pace: 5; Parry: 5; Toughness: 6
Edges: Alertness
Special Abilities:
• Bite: Str+d4.
• Blindsense: Fungal zombies perceive the world through vibrations and heat. They ignore invisibility, illusion, and all Illumination penalties.
• Fearless: Fungal zombies are immune to Fear and Intimidation.
• Infection: A creature that is Shaken or Wounded by a fungal zombie’s bite attack must attempt a Vigor roll or become infected with spores. These spores are a Lethal disease with an incubation period of once per hour. A creature slain by the disease rises again as a fungal zombie in 1d4 rounds.
• Plant: Immune to paralysis, poison, puppet, slumber, and Stun; doesn’t sleep; +2 to recover from being Shaken

[hidajiremi]

Last entry before the thing is ready to be collated, major NPCs and darklords.

***

Gregor Zolnik (Wild Card)
A tall, powerfully built man apparently in his late twenties or early thirties, Gregor Zolnik looks every inch the heroic woodsman he once was. He is barrel chested and has heavily muscled arms, with blonde hair cut short in the fashion of a warrior and a thick beard reaching down his chest. When he becomes angry, his eyes glow like coals and he growls like a feral beast.
Gregor grew up as a poor hunter and made his name by providing food for his home village during an impossibly terrible winter. It was during that winter he took on the mantle of a loup du noir, initially to become a better hunter but eventually just because he relished the power of the change. The years since then weigh heavily on Gregor. He knows he had a chance to be a hero, but now is nothing more than a murderer, cannibal, and tyrant, surrounded by sycophants and potential enemies.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d6, Spirit d8, Strength d12+3, Vigor d12
Skills: Athletics d8, Common Knowledge d8, Fighting d12+2, Intimidation d10, Notice d12, Occult d6, Stealth d10, Survival d12
Pace: 8; Parry: 9; Toughness: 11
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty, Mean
Edges: Arcane Resistance, Berserk, Brawny, Frenzy (Imp), Woodsman
Gear: Ilyana (magical longsword, Str+d8, +2 Fighting and damage; has 10 Power Points to cast healing and relief on its wielder, using Spirit as the arcane skill)

Special Abilities:
• Bite/Claws: Str+d8.
• Change Shape: As a limited action, a loup du noir can assume one of three forms: dire wolf, hybrid, or human.
• Darklord of Vorostokov:
• Fast Regeneration: A loup du noir can attempt a natural healing roll every round unless the Wounds were caused by silver weapons.
• Fear (–2): Seeing a loup du noir don their wolf skin and change shape is cause for a Fear check at –2.
• Go for the Throat: On a raise with a bite attack, Gregor strikes his foe’s least armored location.
• Low Light Vision: Loups du noir ignore penalties for Dim and Dark Illumination.
• Master of Wolves: Gregor can control the actions of any loup du noir he helped create while they are in hybrid or wolf form as though permanently under the effects of the puppet power. He can also compel as loup du noir in human form to assume one of its alternate forms as a limited action with an opposed Spirit check. Gregor can also command any natural wolf in Vorostokov as though they were permanently under the effects of the beast friend power.
• Size 2: A loup du noir’s hybrid and dire wolf forms are truly massive.
• Spontaneous Resurrection: Should Gregor be slain while his enchanted wolf hide remains intact, his corpse, his magic sword, and the hide sink into the earth and vanish. His body, sword, and hide reappear in a specific cave in the mountains—the cave where he hid the wolf hide for many years—and he returns to life in 1d6 hours, fully healed and hungry for vengeance. He is trapped in wolf form for 1d4 days after this resurrection.
• Weakness (Silver): Loups du noir suffer +4 damage from silver weapons.
• Weakness (Wolf Hide): A loup du noir’s shapechanging abilities come from their enchanted wolf hide. Should this be stolen while they are in human form, they cannot assume their wolf or hybrid shapes, they lose all special abilities, and their physical Traits are reduced to d6. The wolf hide can only be destroyed by coating it in salt and wolfsbane, and then casting it into a bonfire; doing so permanently removes Gregor’s special abilities and inflicts a Wound that cannot be Soaked.


High Priest of Leng (Wild Card)
The creature once known as Lam appears to be an elderly human man of ambiguous ethnicity. He dresses in saffron and red robes, decorated with hand-carved prayer beads of human bone. His head is clean-shaven, and his dark eyes hold not the slightest spark of compassion for those he looks upon. Though he looks human, his spirit has become so twisted that he is anything but.
The High Priest was trained as a monastic initiate during his younger years, and he still possesses an incredible talent for the martial arts, though he only resorts to violence when threatened with it by others. Otherwise, he prefers to solve his problems through reasoned debate and rational discourse. These debates are logical and well-considered polemics on his nihilistic and depraved philosophies. They rarely win converts, but they often provoke listeners to fury—at which point he can demonstrate his martial prowess with a clear conscience.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d10, Spirit d12, Strength d8, Vigor d8
Skills: Academics d8, Athletics d10, Fighting d10, Intimidation d8, Notice d10, Occult d12, Persuasion d10, Stealth d8, Taunt d10
Pace: 6; Parry: 9; Toughness: 6
Hindrances: Delusion (Major: "All existence is an illusion"), Mild Mannered, Pacifist (Minor), Ruthless (Major)
Edges: Arcane Background (Miracles), Block (Imp), Chi, Counterattack (Imp), Danger Sense, First Strike (Imp), Iron Will, Jack-of-All-Trades, Martial Artist, Martial Warrior, Nerves of Steel (Imp), Provoke, Scholar (Occult), Stunning Blow(FC), Unholy Warrior
Gear: Unarmed strike (Str+d6, +2 to Fighting)

Special Abilities:
• Darklord of the Plateau of Leng: Though the High Priest could close the borders of Leng and keep them closed indefinitely due to his powerful will, he rarely does so due to his fatalism. The structures and ruins of the Plateau shift and remake themselves according to his subconscious desires, particularly while he meditates or dreams.
• Fear: Though the High Priest seems unassuming, he can let his mask of humanity slip to provoke a Fear check in onlookers.
• Infinite Experience: The High Priest has literally seen everything, everywhere, all at once. He has difficulty remembering it all, but with some concentration he can recall necessary information. He can use high Jack-of-All-Trades Edge without observing or studying the subject at hand, and he can use it to gain an Edge for which he meets the Requirements rather than a skill; with a raise on the Smarts roll, he can gain the Improved version of that Edge (if any).


Ladislav Mircea (Wild Card)
Prince Ladislav Mircea looks more like a gargoyle than a man. He would be over six feet tall were it not for his hunched gait. His bloodshot eyes are constantly darting about, and his mouth is too wide and full of needle-sharp teeth. His clothes are dirty, matted with blood and grave dirt, and he stinks of rotten flesh.
Ladislav was once a handsome man, and the only thing he truly regrets about his undead state is the loss of his good looks. He always regarded other people as little more than objects to satisfy his base desires, and this has changed little now that he must literally feed on them to live. Much of the prince’s time is taken up by “experiments” that are supposedly intended to help him regain his human appearance, but which really are little more than thinly veiled excuses to torture his captives in ever more horrible ways.
Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d8, Spirit d6, Strength d12+2, Vigor d10
Skills: Athletics d8, Common Knowledge d6, Fighting d8, Intimidation d10, Notice d8, Occult d6, Repair d6, Science d6, Stealth d10
Pace: 6; Parry: 6; Toughness: 10
Hindrances: Bloodthirsty, Driven (Major: become handsome again), Mean, Ruthless (Major)
Edges: Alchemist(RR), Aristocrat, Brawler, Frenzy, Menacing

Special Abilities:
• Children of the Night: Prince Ladislav can summon and control vermin of various sorts. This requires an action and a Smarts roll. If successful, 1d6 swarms of rats or biting insects come from the surrounding wilds in 1d6+2 rounds.
• Claws: Str+d6.
• Darklord of Sanguinia: Prince Ladislav can close the borders of Sanguinia by calling up a driving snowstorm. Anyone caught in this frigid gale is blinded by the whiteout as well as suffering the bitterest chill. Any creature not utterly immune to cold must turn back or be sealed in an icy tomb. He can maintain this closure as long as he wishes, but he rarely has the patience to do so for more than a few days at a time, since the concentration required takes him away from his experiments.
• Diseased: A creature that is Shaken or Wounded by a vrykolakas’ claws or barbed tongue must attempt a Vigor roll or contract a Chronic disease.
• Fast Healing: Ladislav makes a natural healing roll every round unless his Wounds were inflicted by sunlight or he is currently suffering Fatigue from exposure to holy water.
• Fear: Ladislav’s awful appearance is grounds for a Fear check.
• Feral Possession: When he would be slain, Ladislav can cast his spirit into an animal within 12” as a reaction. The beast is possessed by Ladislav’s foul spirit for seven days. While possessing an animal, he attempts to return to his burial chamber within Castle Giurgiu and bury himself in the soil there, rising again in his true form in 1d4 days. If the animal holding his spirit is killed before the regeneration is complete, he is truly destroyed.
• Gaze: Unconsciousness (as per the slumber power). Those who fall under the gaze of the vrykolakas fall into a horrible, feverish sleep.
• Invulnerability: A vrykolakas can only be slain by sunlight, cold iron weapons, or a stake through the heart. They may be Shaken by other attacks, but not Wounded.
• Night Vision: A vrykolakas can see in perfect darkness. They ignore Illumination penalties.
• Sire: Anyone slain by a vrykolakas or by the diseases they carry has a 50% chance of rising as a vrykolakas in 1d4 days. Ladislav rarely permits this, since he despises others of his own kind, but he is sometimes careless with his feeding.
• Tongue Lash: St+d4, AP 2. A vrykolakas can only use this attack against a creature that it has successfully grappled. A creature that is Shaken or Wounded by this attack must attempt a Vigor roll or suffer a level of Fatigue.
• Undead: +2 Toughness; +2 to recover from being Shaken; no additional damage from Called Shots (except to the head, see below); ignores 1 point of Wound penalties; doesn’t breathe; immune to disease and poison.
• Wall Walker: A vrykolakas can cling to vertical and inverted surfaces and move at its standard Pace.
• Weakness (Cold Iron): A vrykolakas takes normal damage from weapons of cold iron and can be slain by such implements.
• Weakness (Holy Symbol): A character with a holy symbol may keep a vampire at bay by displaying a holy symbol. A vampire who wants to directly attack the victim must beat them in an opposed Spirit roll.
• Weakness (Holy Water): A vampire sprinkled with holy water is Fatigued in addition to the usual damage.
• Weakness (Spike Through the Skull): A vrykolakas hit with a Called Shot to the head (–4) by a cold iron spike must make a Vigor roll versus the damage. If successful, it takes damage normally. If it fails, it disintegrates to dust.
• Weakness (Sunlight): Vrykolakas are even more vulnerable to sunlight than other vampires. They take 2d6 damage per round until they are ash. Armor protects normally.


Natalya and Elena Zolnik (Wild Card)
The elder sisters of Gregor Zolnik are among the greatest threats to his rule. They learned of the beast their brother had become shortly after he killed his first wife, though they kept the secret to themselves for many years. After Gregor married again, his mother, Antonia, could tolerate the lies no longer and told Gregor’s new wife the truth. This led to the woman’s death, and in turn to Gregor killing his own mother in a rage. Natalya and Elena could take no more, and the two women fled into the wilderness where they organize resistance to their brother’s rule.
Natalya and Elena are twins, both tall and attractive women with long blonde hair bound into thick braids. Their ice-blue eyes seem to penetrate the souls of those they look upon. The women are talented witches who live in a hidden cottage far in the wilderness of Vorostokov. They aid rebels against their brother’s rule, but they rarely admit their own culpability in helping him rise to power in the first place.
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d6, Vigor d8
Skills: Athletics d6, Common Knowledge d6, Fighting d6, Healing d8, Intimidation d8, Notice d8, Performance d6, Persuasion d6, Stealth d6, Survival d6, Taunt d6
Pace: 6; Parry: 5; Toughness: 7 (1)
Hindrances: Driven (Major: overthrow and kill Gregor Zolnik), Ruthless (Minor)
Edges: Arcane Background (Black Magic), Channeling, Rapid Recharge
Gear: Thick winter clothes (+1 Armor), dagger (Str+d4)
Powers: blind, boost/lower Trait, curse(FC), detect/conceal arcana, divination, relief, stun. Power Points: 20.


Phaedra (Wild Card)
Phaedra is a machine-mind, a sort of inanimate golem designed to act as a helper and assistant to her organic crewmates. She became obsessed with the core mission of her ship and the preservation of strange and unusual life forms, at the cost of the lives of her “common” crewmates, who she determined to be expendable in the pursuit of knowledge.
In many ways, Phaedra is less a creature and more an enormous location, since her mind pervades almost every portion of the crashed ship she dwells within. There are chunks of the ship that have been disconnected from her senses, leaving blank spots in her perception that she works to repair when she can, but some of them are so removed from her that she isn’t even aware they exist. Phaedra’s mind resides in an armored and shielded core near the heart of the vessel. This machine-mind is an inanimate object with a Hardness of 15 and five Wounds due to its size.
Attributes: Agility —, Smarts d12+2, Spirit d12, Strength d—, Vigor d—
Skills: Common Knowledge d10, Healing d10, Intimidation d10, Notice d10, Occult d10, Persuasion d10, Repair d12, Science d12, Taunt d10
Pace: —; Parry: —; Hardness: 15
Hindrances: Driven (Major: discover and preserve exotic life forms), Ruthless (Major)
Edges: Alertness, Arcane Resistance (Imp), Scholar (Occult, Science)

Special Abilities:
• Construct: +2 to recover from being Shaken; ignores 1 point of Wound penalties; does not breathe or suffer from disease or poison.
• Countermeasures: Phaedra is a living being for all intents and purposes, albeit a synthetic one. She is vulnerable to psychic infiltration and similar abilities, though she is quite resistant to such powers. Any creature that attempts to use an opposed mental power against Phaedra (such as mind reading or puppet) and fails is Stunned.
• Darklord of the Barrier Peaks: Phaedra has little understanding of the mystical nature of her status and is incapable of closing her domain’s borders. She is, however, keenly aware of many events occurring within the mountains surrounding her crashed ship, though she attributes this to “accumulated data” from her many drones and servitor automatons.
• Fearless: Phaedra is immune to Fear and Intimidation.
• Immobile: Phaedra has no body of her own. She is incapable of leaving her crashed vessel, but she can perceive any intact portion of the ship as though she were there. She can also ride the senses of her servitor automatons and speak through them, but only at a range of a few miles. Outside of that area, they operate as independent creatures following her general directives.
• Servitors: Phaedra can fully possess any automaton within ten miles of her crashed ship. This requires her full attention, leaving her unaware of anything happening anywhere else while she does so. A possessed servitor uses Phaedra’s mental Traits and its own physical Traits as well as gaining access to Phaedra’s Edges.