135 rooms · levels 35–50
The deathly chilling fog slowly parts to show you tower spires and a crumbling castle. The iron gates before you, to the east, are slick with slime and rust. The gates creak in the wind... Behind you, to the west, the fog waits.
The ornate massive gates hang open to the west. Fluttering torches cast dim yellow flickers of light along the entry way. Twenty feet to the east, a second set of doors, gilded and heavy, stands between you and the castle, and the sounds of organ music seep around them. Overhead, four statues of dragons glare down, their eyes flickering in the torchlight.
Cobwebs hang from dust-covered columns of this great hall, illuminated by torches fluttering in iron sconces. The dust and webs cast strange, moving shadows across the faces of stone gargoyles squatting motionlessly on the rim of the domed ceiling. Cracked and faded ceiling frescoes are covered by centuries of decay. Two doors of bronze stand closed to the north, and the gilded doors of the entry way lie to the west. To the south, a wide staircase climbs into darkness. All the while, sad and majestic organ tones float about you from a lit hallway to the east.
Torchlight flutters against the walls of this vaulted hall. To the north, a dark and forbidding hallway runs into darkness. Beside that opening, a suit of armor, oiled and glistening, stands at attention in a shallow alcove. To the south, large double doors hang slightly open, a steady bright light escaping through the opening. Swells of organ music come from behind the doors, spilling their melody of power and defeat into the hall.
This is a magnificent 40-foot-square room, brilliantly lit by three massive crystal chandeliers. Pillars of stone stand against dull white marble walls, supporting the ceiling. In the center of the room, a long, heavy table stands covered with a fine white satin cloth. The table is laden with delectable foods of every type: roasted beast basted in a savory sauce, roots and herbs of every taste, and sweet fruits and vegetables. Places are set for each of you with fine delicate china and silver. At each place there is a crystal goblet filled with an amber liquid whose delicate fragrance tantalizes your senses. At the center of the south wall, between floor-to-ceiling mirrors, stands a massive organ. Its pipes blare out a thunderous melody that offers in its tone greatness and despair. Seated before the keys, its back toward you, a single caped figure pounds the keys in rapturous ecstasy. The figure suddenly stops and a deep silence falls over the dining hall. The figure slowly turns toward you.
A single arched corridor leads east from this room. There are several mirrors here, and in each of them the room is empty. A tall, dark figure in a flowing cape floats in the middle of the room all the same. Old archers' slits in the outer walls are bricked up. The back of the great organ fills the north wall.
This long, narrow corridor runs north and south. Cobwebs fill the hall and obstruct sight beyond a few feet. An arch in the west wall opens on a small mirrored room.
This long, dusty hall leads northward into the dark heart of Ravenloft. Statues line the hallway on both sides, their eyes seeming to watch you as you pass.
Dim, colored light filters through broken and boarded up stained glass windows, illuminating the ancient chapel of Ravenloft. Pews and benches lie about the floor in jumbled disarray, coated with centuries of dust. To the north you see a dark alcove.
This arched room opens to the north into an alcove of the chapel, and a creaking wooden staircase lies through an arch to the west. Alcoves in the walls open into this room. Within their dark confines lurk 8-foot-tall shadowy figures. Their stone forms show mighty muscled arms and legs. A black shadow falls across the features of their faces.
This arched room opens to the north into an alcove of the chapel, and a rising staircase lies through an arch to the east. Alcoves in the walls open into this room. Within their dark confines lurk 8-foot-tall shadowy figures. Their stone forms show mighty muscled arms and legs. A black shadow falls across the features of their faces.
The large gray flagstones of this spiraling staircase lead up and down around a 20-foot-wide stone core. Cobwebs fill the staircase, making it difficult to see even the ceiling. Heavy beams sag overhead from centuries of weight. An arch to the west opens on a small alcove.
Massive stairs rise from the great hall to the north toward a landing far above. Stone arches support a ceiling covered with frescos. The frescos' faded lines depict the stone mountain atop which Ravenloft stands, being taken by armored forces on horseback; the faces of the riders are scratched beyond recognition. Dust floats in the air here, making it difficult to see details. Two alcoves flank the foot of the stairs, and in each stands a suit of armor covered with dark stains, holding a mace shaped like a curved dragon's head. The words once engraved on the arches above them have been scratched out.
A mosaic floor stretches about into the darkness. A vast, empty tower rises above you. You cannot see more than a few yards, yet you feel the tower's cold expanse pressing down on you. To the west a spiral staircase rises slowly into the darkness circling the open shaft. In the center of the room, another set of stairs leads down.
This stairway is lit by fluttering torches in iron sconces. A chilly wind rushes down the circling stairway, seeming to kill the very heat of the torches.
This is where archers used to defend the keep. The castle courtyard is visible through narrow archers' slits that line the walls.
Dim light filters in through dust-caked windows in the east wall. A large, heavy table sits in the center of the room coated with dust. A thick book lies open on the desk top with an inkwell and quill next to it. There is a broken door in the west wall, and a door in the north wall next to the windows leads out into the fog. A staircase that once dropped to the cellars is choked with fallen masonry. On each side of it a skeleton in bright armor stands sagging at attention, holding a rusty halberd.
Broken furniture and torn cloth are strewn about this 20-by-40 foot room. Dim illumination comes from the dirt-caked windows in the north and west walls. A rickety staircase climbs up to a second level.
Dim light from the courtyard falls into this room in jagged shafts through the broken glass and iron frames of a large window in the south wall. This immense room stands in chilly, brooding darkness. Hundreds of dust-thick cobwebs drape the room, hiding the ceiling from view. Directly across from the window are double doors in the north wall; ornate carvings on them are obscured by a thick layer of dust. At the far eastern end of the hall, a huge throne stands atop a raised platform, its back turned to the room. The grand staircase comes up through the floor at the hall's western end and leads back down.
Massive double doors open into this quiet 10-foot-wide section of dark corridor from the north and south. From both sides of the corridor, deep alcoves of darkness face each other with deathlike silence. Almost beyond sight, seeming to float within the alcoves' blackness, human figures can be made out.
This 20-foot-wide hall has a dark vaulted ceiling. Shadows seem to dance across the distant ceiling. A low moan rises and falls the length of the corridor, intoning sadness and despair.
This long balcony overlooks a vast rubble-strewn room. Two large, ornate thrones stand in the middle of the balcony that is covered with dust. The thrones face away from the brass-banded double doors that lead to the balcony. The thrones could easily shield someone sitting in them from anyone behind them.
A staircase of old wood climbs shakily up a stonework shaft. With each step upon it, the wood strains underfoot, creaking and groaning.
Dusty scrolls and tomes line the walls of this room and are scattered across the floor. In the center of all this clutter stands a huge accountant's desk. A figure crouches atop a tall stool, scratching a seemingly endless scroll of paper with a dry quill pen. A rope hangs next to the creature from a hole in the ceiling.
The aroma of grease and well-oiled wood fills your nostrils as you enter the room. The entire room is filled with intricate machinery. There are small passages between the gears and pulleys. Behind all the machinery, a cold shaft rises up from the darkness and continues past the room.
Stained, yellowed lace hangs neatly from eight canopied beds. The single lithe figure of a woman moves about the room, dusting the furniture.
A grand stairway leads upwards.
The floor sags in the middle of this room. Dirt-caked windows allow little light through from outside. Broken bed frames litter the floor.
A door of delicately engraved steel stands at the south end of this dark hallway. Intricate details still stand out clearly on its surface, and it seems almost to shine with a light of its own, untouched by time. Yet on each side of this door there is an alcove filled with a darkness that shames the night. A figure stands like a shadow within each alcove, still as the cliffs of Batinok. A plainer wooden door leads north.
Dust fills your lungs. The musty smell of death and decay swirls around you. Before you, a long table of polished oak lies beneath a blanket of dust. The rolling table cloth lies tattered beneath dusty china plates and stained silverware. In the center of the table, a large, tiered cake leans heavily to one side. The once white frosting has turned green with age. Cobwebs drape like dusty lace down every side. A single doll figure of a well-dressed woman adorns the crest of the cake under thick layers of dust. A window in the south wall is draped with heavy curtains.
A flaming hearth fire fills this room with rolling waves of red and amber light. The walls are lined with ancient books and tomes, their leather covers well oiled and preserved through careful use. All is in order here. The stone floor is hidden beneath a luxurious rug of a deep-patterned weave. A large, low table sits in the center of the room, waxed and polished to a mirrored finish. Even the poker next to the blazing fireplace is polished. Large, overstuffed divans and couches stand in order about the room. Two luxurious chairs face the hearth. A huge painting hangs over the mantelpiece in a heavy, gilded frame. The rolling light of the fire illuminates the carefully rendered painting. It is an exact likeness of the Burgomaster's daughter, Ireena Kotyana. Though the painting is obviously centuries old, the likeness is unmistakable.
This smoky room lies behind the fireplace; ash drifts over the floor, and you cough as you stir it up. Glinting through the smoke, gold, silver, and copper coins lie scattered about. Attached to the south wall, beside the back of the fireplace, are two torch sconces. One holds a torch with an intricate metal base; the other is empty. A skeleton of a man lies against the wall in broken plate armor. His right hand is on his throat while his left hand holds the matching torch from the empty sconce.
This ancient hall is choked with spider webs. Their dusty forms hide the very walls and ceiling. The webs are broken by a single cleared path down the center of the room. This hall ends at a pair of bronze doors of highly ornate design.
Dusty cobwebs fill the area, their musty smell assaulting your senses and obscuring sight. Deep pools of darkness lie all about you as you attempt in vain to penetrate the spidery veils. A single path leads to the center of the room where a rope dangles from high above.
The plundered riches of Strahd's secret hoard lie before you.
Sweet smells waft from this delicately lit room. Windows on the south wall are covered by heavy red draperies, hanging stiffly from the high ceiling 20 feet overhead. Their tassels of golden fiber glint in the light of three candelabras sitting atop small tables about the room. Tall white candles burn with bright, steady light. A large bed, canopied by silken curtains, sits with its headboard against the west wall. Lying amid the velvet and satin sheets and bedclothes is a woman in a nightcoat. One of her dainty slippers has fallen to the floor at the foot of the bed. Carved into the headboard with great skill and care is a large "Z".
In the center of this room stands a large, ornate iron tub.
Within this room hang several capes and an assortment of black formal wear. Two windows in the east wall are covered with heavy curtains.
Long, low moans drift down from alcoves that line both walls of this long hall. The ceiling has fallen here, leaving rubble strewn across the floor. Overhead, the beams of Ravenloft's roof are exposed, and sporadic lightning from the clouds above flashes into the hall. A graven statue stands within each of the 10 alcoves; shafts of light cross the statues' faces at obscure angles, and another sudden flash reveals their faces formed in the shapes of terrified men and women. A wooden door at the east end of the hall opens on the study, and a grand stair leads down.
This is a wide walkway around most of the keep. Far below these parapets are the shining wet cobblestones of the courtyard. The walkway runs north and south.
A landing of flagstone 10 feet wide by 20 feet long wobbles slightly underfoot. The chill draft of wind whistles mournfully through the room, rushing down from the circular stairs to the north. Pausing only for a single round through the landing, the wind continues down the stairs on to the west.
This dusty spiraling staircase climbs up into the tower.
A low ceiling, supported by heavy beams, seems to press down on this room. The west wall curves with the tower and is fitted with three windows of leaded glass in steel latticework. Plush overstuffed chairs and couches are placed about the room. Their fabric has faded with age until the prints are nearly gone. A bookcase lines the north wall between two doors.
A huge bed sits in the center of this room, its four corner posts rising to a black canopy trimmed with gold tassels. Several comfortable divans are placed about the room. There is a banded door in the east wall and a smaller unbanded door in the west wall.
This small, empty 10-foot-square room is lined with pegs to hang cloaks and clothes on.
As you enter this room, an evil essence embraces you. Torn and broken couches lie in heaps, haphazardly strewn about the 20-foot-square room. The low ceiling seems to press down upon you. Deep claw marks cover the hardwood furniture. Claw marks have also sliced the once lush upholstery to shreds. From the dark shadows amid the rubble, three pairs of green eyes stare back at you.
This is a large oppressive room with a low ceiling of heavy beams. This room is lit only by the dim light of two leaded glass windows in the east wall. Steel lattice work covers both windows. Several tables stand throughout the room, their legs seem to barely support the glass jars and bottles that sit atop them.
Through the darkness of this room you can just barely see green-glowing wisps bubbling up from a huge black kettle. Electric sounds of cackling suddenly strike, sending a shudder through you.
This is the top of the tower. A turmoil of black, boiling clouds rolls unceasingly over the dark towers of Ravenloft. The 60-foot-diameter tower roof is rimmed with broken parapets that drop into the swirling mists of fog below. A pentagram is cut into the flagstones. To the south, a door in the parapet opens onto a slender stone bridge, which spans the gap between this tower and the tall west tower. To the northeast, the high tower of Ravenloft thrusts skyward with no apparent opening at this point.
This slender stone and masonry bridge hangs in the swirling fog, reaching west to the tower there. The stones are wet and slippery. The old iron hand railings rusted away years ago, leaving the bridge without hand holds. A door leads north onto the roof of the witches' tower.
The spiraling staircase finally ends at a 5-foot-wide walkway that circles the shaft. In the center of the tower's highest floor, a 15-foot-diameter hole drops into the cold heart of Ravenloft itself. Cold air rushes up from the shaft sending a chill through your every bone. Archers' slits line the walls. Aging beams support a steep roof. One beam and part of the roof have fallen away, leaving a gaping hole to the sky.
The stairs emerge into a brightly lit room with manacles attached to the walls and a wooden frame bed.
A web-filled stairway spirals down into the east end of this 10-foot-wide arched hallway. The stairs continue to wind down further into the unholy depths of Ravenloft. A door leads out from the west end of this hallway.
This hall stands in deadly silence. The low ceiling sags from heavy beams. A fog clings to the floor in thick patches, obscuring everything less than 3 feet above the floor. A giant shadow is cast across the ceiling as a dark figure shuffles purposefully down the corridor toward you.
Arched frames of stone form a low wet ceiling over this wine cellar. Great casks of wine line the walls, their bands rusting and their contents long since spilled onto the ground.
This is a spiral staircase of gray, dusty stones.
A horrible odor of decay assaults your senses as you enter this steaming room. A huge pot bubbles over a blazing fire in the center of the floor, its green, muddy contents rolling over and over.
This 20-foot-square room is cramped by numerous items filling it from wall to wall. A small sagging bed sits to one side under a huge faded tapestry of Ravenloft castle. Dusty lanterns sit in various places. Huge, rich curtains are draped haphazardly about the room. Thousands of pieces of junk cover the floor. Broken swords, crumpled shields and helmets lie in piles all about.
Darkness, cold as a winter sweat, wraps around you. Large oak tables, scarred and beaten, lay scattered like toys about this room, their wood crushed and splintered. Dark stains cover the floor and the wall.
This 10-foot-wide arched corridor starts at a heavy wooden door on the west. Another door, to the east, opens on a spiral stair. Cool, moist air blows out from an archway in the south wall.
Sickly yellow lichen covers the ceiling of this 10-foot-wide passage, which leads off the guards' room and ends at a blank wall. Opening off to both sides of the passage are 10-foot-square alcoves. Rotting cots and rags are in the shadows of the alcoves. A deathly silence fills the hall.
This 30-foot-square room lies in chaos. Shattered furniture lies in heaps near the walls. Broken bones lie scattered amid crumpled and crushed plate armor. Shields and swords jut from the walls as if driven there by some tremendous force. There is a door in the center of the west wall, and a door in the center of the east wall. A dark archway leads out through the south wall.
A dark, low passage leads to an ascending staircase. Sickly yellow lichen covers the ceiling. There is a small room on each side of the passage.
This shadowy room is in perfect order. An old cot stands to one side, its heavy blanket made taut and straight. A great table stands with its chair, inkwell, and quill lying carefully in place. Lances and swords are carefully hung on the walls.
The stairs descend into black, still water that fills an arched hallway before you. The water's surface is like dark mirrored glass, disturbed only occasionally by the "thwick" of a drop falling from the ceiling. Arched doorways lead downward 2 feet from each side of the hallway, east and west. In each arched doorway, an iron door stands closed and partially submerged. Far down the hall to the south, a wooden door stands at its end. All is still except for a weak cry for help coming through the east door.
The fungus-laden ceiling hangs 3 feet above still, black water that fills this dungeon corridor. The water is 5 feet deep. Small cells, their entrances blocked by iron bars, are on both sides of this arched central hall. Liquid drips from the hanging growth on the ceiling.
The fungus-laden ceiling hangs 3 feet above still, black water that fills this dungeon corridor. The water is 5 feet deep. Small cells, their entrances blocked by iron bars, are on both sides of this arched central hall. Liquid drips from the hanging growth on the ceiling.
Dark, low shapes thrust up out of the still, brackish water that fills this room. The ceiling is 17 feet above the water, which is 3 feet deep. There is an arched exit in the center of the north wall. Overhead, a large balcony juts out 7 feet above the level of the water, set to view the whole room. Close examination reveals that the dark shapes in the room are racks, iron maidens, stocks, and other torture apparatus. The skeletons of their last victims seem frozen in silent screams. The lower portions of them are underwater.
There are two large thrones on this balcony, set to face out over the room below. Behind the thrones a large red velvet curtain runs the width of the balcony, hiding a doorway to the west. The ceiling here is 10 feet high.
This room is 30 feet square, rising to a 20-foot-tall flat ceiling. Gargoyle carvings smile, revealing their teeth, from high upon the walls, well lit by a brazier that burns fiercely in the center of the room. From their alcoves in the center of the north and south walls, two iron statues stand saluting with their weapons bared. Each statue has four arms, one with a shield, one with a sword, and the remaining two with their palms toward the ceiling over their heads. Their eyes seem to watch you as you walk about the room. High overhead, an hourglass with writing on its base hangs suspended above the brazier. All of its sand is in the upper portion, somehow refusing to run down into the bottom. In the center of the room next to the brazier is a golden chest.
This staircase of ancient stone is worn smooth through use in ages long forgotten. Dust lies upon the floor and dry cobwebs choke its passage.
The door creaks open to reveal a stone staircase going down between rough masonry walls. The hall is relatively free of obstruction and there is little dust on the steps. A cool dampness seems to flow up from below as a thick fog slowly forms in the room. The staircase is obscured in the swirling mists. The wind within howls mournfully.
This is a long, low tunnel at the foot of the stairs. Its rough damp walls are barely discernible through thick fog. The tunnel passes through the rock pillar of Ravenloft itself, and ends to the north at a door of stone.
This is a dark spiral staircase of rough-hewn stone.
A peaceful stillness, a calm amid the storm, is felt here. In the center of the tomb, a white marble slab holds the coffin of Sergei Von Zarovich. This quiet room is 50 feet long east and west and 30 feet across. Behind the intricately inlaid coffin, three alcoves are set into the west wall, and beautifully carved statues stand in each, just as the day they were placed here. Stone steps lead up to the crypt above.
A darkness clouds this room and the essence of evil permeates the very air. The smell of freshly turned earth is here. This room appears to be 50 feet long and 30 feet across. There are three empty alcoves in the east wall. Settled into the dirt on the floor lies a shining black coffin of finely waxed wood. The coffin's fittings are brilliant brass.
Wide steps descend to a landing flanked by two alcoves. Within each alcove standing a full 30 feet high is a bronze statue holding a spear. A soft blue curtain of light flows between the two alcoves. Dimly visible on the other side of the light curtain are more descending stairs.
This tomb rests in hushed silence. Great stained glass windows filling the northern walls filter dim lights into this room. A coffin stands on each side of this roughly 40 foot square room.
This long, narrow corridor runs north and south. Cobwebs fill the hall and obstruct sight beyond a few feet.
This long, dusty hall leads northward into the dark heart of Ravenloft. Statues line the hallway on both sides, their eyes seeming to watch you as you pass.
A long spiral stair leads up and down.
This long balcony overlooks a vast rubble-strewn room. At its western end you can see a wooden stair leading down.
A staircase of old wood climbs shakily up a stonework shaft. With each step upon it, the wood strains underfoot, creaking and groaning.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ........ You fall...... and fall... and fall... and fall... SSSSSSSPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAATTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You realize that jumping down the shaft was a silly thing to do just as you see what you had for lunch come out your nose.
Darkness seems to emit from this hallway.
You have stumbled on a forgotten room, hardly larger than a cupboard, between the walls of the bedchamber and the Hall of Heroes. Its air is stale and still. The back of a carved headboard forms its east wall, and a panel to the north is just loose enough to slide. In the dusty floor, the outline of a trapdoor can be made out.
You have a spectacular view over the courtyard. Filled with debris and swirling fog, you feel a bit safer where you stand now. The walkway turns here, running south and west.
To the east you see some stairs leading down, and another set of spiral stairs leading up from here. A single doorway with a heavy plank and metal-banded door opens to the south. Beside this door, an ancient portrait stands watch over the area, its still eyes staring defiantly back at your own.
These stairs lead up and down. Sounds come from both directions, some sound like wind, others you're not sure.
This is a plain, somewhat dusty hallway that has seen little to no use in centuries.
This is a small, empty chamber between the brazier room to the west and a heavy red curtain to the east. Its stone floor is worn in a path from door to curtain, as if someone came this way often to watch.
You can barely make out the dusty steps through the thick cobwebs.
A high domed ceiling caps the 30-foot-diameter room before you. Frescos, faded with age adorn the ceiling, but are impossible to make out. Tall, thin arrow slits look out over the courtyard. The arrow slits are 2 feet tall and 4 inches wide.
The dust has gathered here in great amounts. This room seems to have been vacated for thousands of years yet you get the feeling that someone is watching you. You can see another alcove south and a large room west.
You have finally made it to the bottom of the tower stairs. A spiral staircase climbs away into the darkness overhead, circling the tower's empty shaft. The mosaic floor of the tower hall stretches away to the east, and a narrow passage leads west into the outer wall.
A long spiral stair leads down into the darkness of the castle. A wood door is along the south wall.
This long balcony overlooks a vast rubble-strewn room.
A dark dusty room, it appears to be empty. A dark shaft produces cold gusts of air sending a shiver down your back. IT looks like a VERY VERY long way down.
Darkness surrounds you as you make your way on the stone hewn steps, which wind down inside the castle's walls. Noises echo along the steps beside you, giving you the feeling someone is following you. Overhead, a trapdoor is set into the ceiling.
The dust has gathered here in great amounts. This room seems to have been vacated for thousands of years yet you get the feeling that someone is watching you. You can see another alcove south and a large room east.
This is a spiral staircase of gray, dusty stones.
This long, narrow corridor runs through the thickness of the outer wall, east and west. Cobwebs fill the hall and obstruct sight beyond a few feet. A gilded door is set in the south wall.
Lit by a single, piercing shaft of light, an altar stands upon a platform. The light falls directly on a small statue. A figure is draped over the altar. This room seems as though nothing has disturbed it in centuries, and that nothing ever could.
The large gray flagstones of this spiraling staircase lead up and down around a 20-foot-wide stone core. Cobwebs fill the staircase, making it difficult to see even the ceiling. Heavy beams sag overhead from centuries of weight.
The walkway ends here at a turret wall. You have a spectacular view over the courtyard, filled with debris and swirling fog, and you feel a bit safer where you stand now. The walkway runs back to the east.
A high domed ceiling caps the 30-foot-diameter room before you. Frescos, faded with age adorn the ceiling, but are impossible to make out. Tall, thin arrow slits look out over the courtyard. The arrow slits are 2 feet tall and 4 inches wide.
Dusty stair steps creak at your arrival. The spiral stair climbs on through the middle of the west tower, up into darkness and down toward the tower hall.
A long spiral stair leads up and down.
This is a wide walkway around most of the keep, behind a parapet of crumbling stone. Far below lie the shining wet cobblestones of the courtyard. Double doors lead north into the castle, and the walkway runs on to the east and the west.
Creaking stair steps greet you as you arrive near the top of the west tower. The stair goes on up to the tower's peak and down into the darkness, and a doorway to the east opens onto a narrow stone bridge.
You have a spectacular view over the courtyard. Filled with debris and swirling fog, you feel a bit safer where you stand now. The walkway runs east and west along the parapet.
A large oak stairway leads up from here and a large stone door is in the north wall.
The parapet here is cracked and leans outward over the courtyard; you keep to the inner side of the walkway. Below, shapes move slowly through the fog among the cobbles. The walkway runs east and west.
The walkway ends at a wooden door in the castle wall to the west, through which comes the smell of dust and old cake. The parapet is low here; the courtyard lies a long way below. The walkway runs back to the east.
A few gaunt trees cling to the rock here, long dead, their bare limbs reaching out of the fog like fingers. Something has been tied to one of them with rotted rope and left there; only the rope remains. The path winds on to the north and back to the south.
Part of the castle wall has slumped outward here, and broken stones lie half buried in the mud. Through the gaps you glimpse nothing but darkness. The path picks its way among the fallen blocks, north and south.
The ledge narrows until there is barely room to stand. Pebbles kicked loose skitter over the edge and are never heard to land. The fog boils up from below in slow grey waves, and now and then something pale moves within it. The ledge goes on north and back south.
The castle's west wall rises sheer out of the fog on your right hand, its stones black with damp and its arrow slits dark and empty. The path is little more than a ledge of trampled earth between the wall and a drop you cannot see the bottom of. It runs on to the north, and back south to the gates.
The fog draws back a little here, as if it wished you to see. A cobbled approach, slick with moss, runs east to a pair of rusted iron gates set in a towering wall. A narrow path leaves the cobbles and runs north along the foot of the wall, and to the west the mists close in over the track you came by.
A low wooden door is set into the back wall of the castle to the south, worn smooth by the hands of servants long dead. Above it a dusty window shows no light. The path you came along runs back to the west through the fog.
The path rounds the north corner of the castle, where a squat tower juts out over the cliff. The wind is stronger here and tears the fog into rags, but never quite clears it. The path turns east along the back of the castle; the ledge runs back to the south.
Behind the castle the ground is a jumble of rubbish thrown down from the windows above: broken crockery, bones, the rotted remains of furniture. The fog stinks of it. The path runs east toward a low door in the wall, and back west to the corner.
You are lost in swirling fog. It clings to your throat and squeezes the air from your lungs, and whatever way you came by is gone behind you as if it had never been. Somewhere to the east a raven calls, and through a thinning in the grey a muddy track leads that way, toward a darker shape that might be a wall.
The walkway turns a corner of the keep here. Wind whips across the parapet, and the castle's towers loom out of the clouds above you. The walkway runs west and north.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. A heavy stone door stands in the south wall. To the north the catacombs open out, row upon row of niches cut into the rock, each holding a shrouded shape.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. The walls of this crypt are carved with the arms of the Von Zarovich family, and in the floor a great slab of stone is set with an iron ring. Arches lead north to the Hall of Crypts and west to the gallery.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. Bones have spilled from the niches here and lie in drifts along the walls, crunching underfoot. The gallery runs on to the north and back south, and a wide arch to the east opens on the Hall of Crypts.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. The gallery ends in a high, narrow vault. The ceiling is lost in darkness, and from it comes a constant leathery rustling. The floor is thick with droppings. The only way out is back to the south.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. A coffin lies open on a bier in the middle of this crypt, empty but for a rotting bridal veil. A thin, despairing wail seems to hang in the air even when all is silent. The only way out is back to the south.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. The cold here is bitter and unnatural; frost rimes the niches, and your breath hangs in the fog. The only way out is back to the north.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. The hall widens here around a flight of wide steps, closed off by a slab of stone carved with two spearmen. Crypts open to the north and the south, the Hall of Crypts runs back to the west, and a passage leads east toward a stone door.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. This is the heart of the catacombs, a long vaulted hall with the doors of family crypts set into its walls. Bats wheel and squeak under the vault. The hall runs east and west, and crypt doors open to the north and the south.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. A gallery runs north between walls of burial niches; many of the niches are empty, their shrouds torn and trailing. An archway to the east opens on a crypt, and the catacomb door is back to the south.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. The stone of this crypt is black and faintly warm. A slab in the floor bears a single carved letter, a large "Z", and the earth around it has been disturbed, again and again. The Hall of Crypts is back to the south.
The darkness is complete; the only thing your light shows is the fog that floats about a foot above the stone floor. The catacombs end here at a large stone door in the south wall, beyond which a stair climbs up the high tower's shaft. The Guardians' Stair is back to the west.