Vanquishers of the Cult

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"The air here does not breathe; it lingers. As you step beyond the heavy, rusted iron gates of this valley, the sunlight you once knew feels like a half-remembered dream. Above, the sky is a bruised purple, choked by a rolling mist that clings to your boots like skeletal fingers. The towering pines of the Svalich Woods stand as silent, jagged sentinels, their needles black against the gray horizon.

In the distance, perched precariously atop a pillar of stone, the spires of Castle Ravenloft pierce the clouds—a jagged crown of granite and malice. You feel a heavy gaze from those high windows, cold and calculating. You are not just travelers in this land; you are guests of the Master. And in Barovia, the Master never lets a guest leave without a price."