Modified Ravenloft World

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Well hello there. First post. I just wanted to share a campaign I have been working on for a while and hopefully get some feedback and suggestions. I will break it up a bit so it makes sense.

The Premise: The world itself is based on Ravenloft, or more so the demiplane of dread that is talked about in the original sources. In my variant, however, the demiplane is a creation of pure evil brought on by an incredibly powerful Dark Lord. Though he was eventually defeated he managed to  create and incredibly large "schism" within the real world my players live in. This demiplane of dread has existed for untold millennium and most people dont even know about it. The only way to get there is usually violent arcane explosions or incredibly powerful beings clashing in battle. It rips the fabric enough to let people through.
 
The World: The world is very Ravenloft esque but it has a lot of elements of other dark things. I have even worked in some fairy tales. My group has already fought a Red Riding hood esque werewolf, but the twist was that Red Riding hood was actually the werewolf. I try to incorporate many elements of Ravenloft and even have a Strahd character. The kicker is the he found the runes of the Dark Lord's castle who created the demiplane and was infected with his spirit/armor and thus became the new Dark lord. The world has allowed me to weave and intricate blend of dark themes and other things that make Ravenloft great.

The Story so far: I love to write. So I have been giving them fluff pieces to help  give them back story on other character and the world around them. But their story is interesting. They wanted to play new characters so what I did was take their last campaign before this Ravenloft arc and cause their other characters to die. But they, in all actuality, didnt. They emerged in the Ravenloft universe as new characters. They knew of their old lives but were new people. They soon learned of a group of Paladins hidden somewhere in the land that could possibly return them home. So in searching for them they have fought several large bosses, done the Red Riding hood arc (which included a town defense portion). 

So there you have it. I will include my fluff pieces in a couple posts below if anyone wants to read. Two are the formation of the demiplane of dread and the third introduces the head of the paladin order they are trying to find and also a massive baddie that they will fight at some time in the future.

Thanks for looking.
 
Forging of the Demiplane of Dread Part 1 (Mind you this is entirely homebrew)


An account of the sundering of the Demiplane of Dread from the Journals of Heirophant Jiel, guardian of the Vault of Antiquity.


 


...Many ages ago, perhaps to many to recount from antiquity, the earthly realms fell under the siege of darkness the likes of which the heavens hadn't seen since the worlds were forged. The Dark Lord Darak’krein waged a sadistic genocide against the free peoples of the Earth. Many hundreds of thousands fell at the feet of Darak’krein and his demonic hordes. Countless heroes of legend were slain upon the great sword of the Dark Lord. The darkest hours of humanity soon came to pass and at the end of it all a single warrior rose for one final assault. Blood flowing from his accursed throne, Darak’krein rose to meet his challenger. Baral'duin, perhaps antiquities greatest barbarian warrior, held aloft his broadsword and bellowed a cry even the dwarves of yore would envy.


 


Heavy footfalls slammed into the steps of the dark throne as Baral'duin charged the Dark Lord, a righteous fury burning like campfire embers within his weathered face. Their blades came together with a deafening thunder that sent elemental energy exploding in all directions. For three wearying days the forces of good and evil clashed violently atop the dark throne. Finally, upon the third day, Baral'duin leveled his blade at the Dark Lord and grinned. Blood flowed from mortal wounds piercing his chest and side, but Baral'duin no longer felt the pain. The Dark Lord too had suffered mortal wounds from Aran'Dul, Baral'duin's mighty broadsword. Each knew the other's time had grown short.


 


With a mighty roar the Dark Lord raised his blade and sliced towards Baral'duin's head. Blocking overhead with his blade, Baral'duin pivoted on his heavily armored heel and spun around, kicking the Dark Lord from his feet. Tumbling down the stairs of the Dark Throne, Darak'krein came to rest in a pool of blood and corpses at the foot of his diminishing throne. Rage unfathomable spewed forth from his dark jaws. Ancient and destructive incantations poured from his lips as he leapt to his feet and charged Baral'duin, his blade poised for a killing blow. In a moment of unrequited selflessness Baral'duin leapt from the throne to meet his foe, Aran'Dul outstretched.


 


Horrific cries of rage and anguish exploded from Darak'krein's lungs as Aran'Dul slid through his armor and sunk deep into his dark heart. Baral'duin too cried out as the Dark Lord's blade pierced clean through his upper body. Though mortally wounded a serenity suddenly overtook Baral'duin and he began to smile. It was then that a strange thing happened. His life blood flowing it's last, the Dark Lord pulled Baral'duin close and began to cackle wildly.


 


"You think you have vanquished evil this day barbarian?" He spat.


"I shall forever bind you within evil itself. Then we shall see who has won the day."


 


Baral'duin's eyes widened and for the first time he suddenly felt fear. With one final breath the Dark Lord called for a wave of evil that shook the foundations of creation. In an incredible explosion of dark energies the Dark Lord's castle, lands and much of the Earth vanished into oblivion. The void created was replaced with new lands, as though the taint of evil had never infected it. Blood flowing from his chest, breaths coming in short gasps, the greatest warrior ever known began to fade from the world of the living. The Dark Lord, now motionless, sat slumped near him. Baral'duin rose unsteadily to his feet and approached the window of the palace. His eyes widened in suprise as the world outside was no longer what he remembered. Darkness extended everywhere and thick mists covered the valley below.


 


Darkness encompassed Baral'duin's vision as he slid down the wall in anguish. Clutching Aran'Dul he said a silent prayer to whichever gods may have been listening. He then breathed his last..........


 
Forging of the Demiplane of Dread Part 2


An account of the rise of the Dark Count from the Journals of Hierophant Jiel, guardian of the Vault of Antiquity........


 


Silence crept over the realms of darkness as the memory of the Great War fell into the distant past. The halls of the Dark Lord became faded and hollow as the world outside became dark and desolate. Years passed before a peculiar thing happened. In the shadows of destruction and rot the form of a man crept cautiously to the gates of the Dark Lord’s domain. Scurrying about the darkness he moved throughout the castle, seeking a solace he could not fill.


 


The man was Strahd Von Zarovich, humble mayor from the town of Barovia in the valley below. Bitten and cursed by a demon of the night, Strahd fled his beloved people to seek seclusion to contain his lust for blood. Fearing the evil birthing in his corrupted soul he moved throughout the castle searching for something to satiate his hunger. It was there in the darkness of the throne room that Strahd came upon the death gaze of the Dark Lord himself. Intrigue and curiosity called to him and Strahd moved to examine the strange corpse. Touching the obsidian armor of the Dark Lord caused an unforeseen event to take place. The armor quivered and strained, and the metal flowing like water crept up Strahd's arm. His mind ablaze with pain and anguish unknown he collapsed to the floor as the armor engulfed him. Cries from deep within a man now damned echoed loudly throughout the chamber.


 


After what seemed like an eternity Strahd rose to his feet, feeling the power of the dark lord pulsing through his being. Dark armor glistened in the brilliant moonlight pouring from the balcony window. Strahd's eyes burned with an ochre red fury as his newfound fangs extended fully. He stepped to the railing and bellowed an unearthly cry that echoed through the valley below, stirring the denizens lurking in dark places. Strahd's attention was suddenly seized by something glinting in the moonlight. To Strahd's pleasure his eyes befell the mighty blade Aran'Dul. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the handle tightly and held it aloft. Power unspeakable exploded outward from the brilliant white blade, its slumber broken.


 


Aran'Dul, however, would not be tainted by the rot of darkness and fought back against Strahd. The vampire lord bellowed in pain and fell to his knees. Gripping the blade tighter, Strahd poured his will and energy into the war with the blade. Aran’Dul rebelled and released a wave of holy energy that lit up the throne room brighter than the sun itself. Strahd was thrown through the air, his body coming to rest sunken deep into the stonework across the room. His flesh viscously torn and scorched from his face, he struggled to remove himself before finally falling from the column and slamming into the floor. Aran’Dul came to rest deeply embedded with the floor of the throne room, erecting a holy column of energy around itself.


 


Strahd stumbled across the throne room and stood glaring at the obstinate blade.


 


“Baral'duin’s blade, your power and soul shall be mine. I have more time than you can possibly comprehend.” Strahd hissed.


 


Walking slowly up the dust covered stairs of the throne room, Strahd turned and sat upon his newfound seat of power. With a devilish grin he began to laugh.


 


"More time indeed............" He cackled.


 
The Chronicles of the Sons of Jot


Chronicles from the battle tomes of the Sons of Jot……………….


 


Marshall Kale Jot winced as another volley of fireballs exploded overhead, absorbed by his cleric’s magic shell. Warm air and the brush of dirt caused him to hold his breath for a moment. Amidst the noise of battle in the valley below he was still keenly aware as a figure approached from behind. He made no effort to prepare himself.


 


“How goes the tide of battle Lira?” he inquired.


 


Lira Thrace, Marshall Jot’s most trusted general, emerged from the darkness to join him at the edge of the cliff. Her face was dirty and covered in dried blood, both her own and that of her foes. She turned to Kale and began to speak, trying desperately to keep herself on her feet.


 


“My lord, the hell spawn have been routed from the Kitmere valley and have been pushed back to the Hell Gate lines.” She explained, stopping in between to cough.


 


“The Dark Lord shall soon fall. Our victory is assured.” She said with a smirk.


Kale sighed wearily and gazed at the end of the enemy battle lines. Arcane wisps of red hellfire wafted up from the split earth where scours of demonic hordes continued to pour out, an evil sea of hate and suffering.  He watched as his warriors fought valiantly amidst the brutal tide of death. Their songs would surely be sung for ages to come.


 


His eyes were suddenly averted, however, when a brilliant red flash lashed out from the gate and struck near his overlook on the valley floor below. Countless warriors lay in a heap at the foot of where the blast came to rest. From the ashes of immolated mortals came a creature that almost stopped Kale’s heart. Lira gasped and drew her blade, hands trembling.


 


Kale motioned for her to stay her hand.


 


“It will do no good my dear. Before us is the very herald of the Dark Lord.”


 


Kale pulled a small chime from a chain around his neck and rang it, though it didn’t make a sound. Though no human heard its melodic symphony, someone not of this plane did. Lira jumped suddenly, surprised to see the form of a robed elf materialize behind her.


 


“What troubles you beloved?” The mysterious figure inquired.


 


“My apologies Thelis for waking you from your slumber, but I would not have called should the situation not been this dire. Bone Crusher has been summoned.” Kale said gravely.


 


For the first time since her arrival, Lira thought she noticed a hint of fear in the stranger’s eyes.


Thelis walked to the ledge next to Kale and looked out at the devastation wrought by Bone Crusher. Forged in the hell pits of the Dark Lord, Bone Crusher stood a towering 30 feet over the humans below. Sunken eye sockets revealed a malevolent gaze that could stop a lesser man’s heart. Jutting out from the chest of the massive flesh golem was a large blood gem, pulsing with an inner hellfire. Kale stumbled momentarily as Bone Crusher bellowed again, baring his diseased teeth and thick streams of dark saliva. Blood soaked hands crushed the life out of countless brave warriors, bringing a nightmarish symphony of laughter from the demonic hordes scurrying about Bone Crusher’s feet.


 


Kale turned to Thelis, his eye foretelling a grim truth.


 


“Shall we dance my beloved?” Kale said somberly.


With a slight smirk Thelis nodded, pursing her lips.


 


Drawing his most trusted blade from its resting place at its side, Kale turned to face the demon spawn. Kale’s muscles tensed and propelled him forward in a blur of motion. Leaping from the ledge he plummeted 50 feet towards his waiting foe. Closing her eyes, Thelis held out her arms and fell backwards after him. With but a few moments in the air Thelis disappeared. Kale didn’t waiver as the grim visage of Bone Crusher approached rapidly, winged demons and explosive fireballs marring his path. His blade began to glow with an ethereal blue, deeper than that of the vastest oceans. Thelis again appeared, though this time directly ahead of Kale, her arms now brandishing a pair of rapiers.  


Kale snarled, a warrior’s cry exploding from his lungs. Bone Crusher turned and swung at the approaching elf. Thelis exploded out of existence as his balled fist passed through her. She flashed back into reality on the other side, plunging her blades deep into Bone Crusher’s left eye. Her blades snapped and she fell to the ground, taking great care to roll out at the bottom and draw another blade. Kale fell beside her with a resounding thud, his blade landing a few moments later coated in Bone Crusher’s blood. Thelis looked up at the massive gaping wound extending down Bone Crusher’s chest and smirked, taking a moment to side step a swipe from a passing hell spawn. She cut it down quickly, giving a pause to help Kale to his feet.


 


“Thank you Thelis.” Kale said grabbing his blade from the ground.


 


Bone Crusher, howling with pain, slammed a wavering fist into the ground near Kale. Thelis vanished and reappeared on Bone Crusher’s shoulder as he again rose to continue his search for those who had caused such deep wounds. Thelis danced around cutting into his flesh wildly, not expecting the solid blow that would come from behind. With a deep grunt Thelis flew from Bone Crusher’s shoulder, blood pouring from the holes in her side caused by a large gargoyle. Kale gasped as he saw her fall and ran to meet her. He dropped his blade and dove forward, crashing into the ground and sliding quite a distance as Thelis remained in his arms.


 


Cradling Thelis’s broken body in his arms he gazed into her mysterious and foreboding eyes. Before him flashed a symphony of memories of their life together and he began weep. Pulling his head near with her dying consciousness, she murmured a parting comfort before allowing life to flow from her broken form. Closing his eyes, Kale grit his teeth and turned towards Bone Crusher. Sensing a burning hate the massive beast found Kale’s gaze and met it with blind evil. Rolling towards his blade Kale barely avoided being crushed by Bone Crusher’s fist. He turned to watch his beloved sink below the surface of the cracked and pale earth.


 


Unspeakable hate, a rage unknown to High Marshall Kale Jot, poured forth from his soul. Years of stoic holy training melted away as the arcane energies sprang forth uncontrolled from his body. Bathed in a soft emerald glow he rose to his feet and pointed his blade at the monster. Bone Crusher grinned and bellowed a laughter that could has stopped the heart of the Dark Lord himself. Raising clenched fists above his head he threw them with incredible speed at the very ground Kale stood upon.


 


Kale saw the world in a sudden clarity. He watched as the fists approached slowly, his body seeming to now exist outside the confines of time. He leapt forward on to the knotted muscles of the hell spawns arms and ran swiftly towards its head, wisps of green energy trailing behind him. Bone Crusher, expecting the attack reared back and suddenly Kale found himself in midair above the beast. Falling quickly Kale struggled to avoid Bone Crusher’s incoming blow. He landed feet first on the behemoth’s fist and jumped forward, placing himself in line with the demon’s heart.


 


Holding his blade aloft Kale fell towards the devil’s bloodstone. Waves of arcane energy lashed at Kale’s face and thin streams of blood flowed from his nose as the primal forces of magic within him uncapped and exploded outward. He held firm as his blade impacted the dense edge of the bloodstone. Metal strained and cracked as crystal shattered, spraying Kale with its shards. An incredible burst of energy exploded outward, knocking every beast and man alike from their feet.


 


Reaching the end of its extents some moments later the wave quivered and suddenly, jarringly, pulled back into itself and rapidly returned to the source of its creation. In a chance of fate, elsewhere in the realm, the Dark Lord Darak’Krein and the mighty hero Baral’Duin exchanged killing blows of their own.  The combined cosmic explosions of two great battles rattled the very core of the galaxies and as such Kale, Bone Crusher and the armies of light and dark were too pulled into the blackness of the Demiplane of Dread…….