Under raging storm clouds, a lone figure stands silhouetted against the ancient walls of Castle Ravenloft. The vampire count Strahd von Zarovich stares down a sheer cliff at the village below. A cold, bitter wind spins dead leaves about him, billowing his cape in the darkness. Lightning splits the clouds overhead, casting stark white angular muscles of his face and hands. He has a look of power- and of madness. His once handsome face us contorted by tragedy darker than the night itself.

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