Ravenloft and Gothic Earth Settings
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THE BOOK OF SOULS A Netbook for the Ravenloft and Gothic Earth settings Edited by the Kargatane: Joe Bardales N Charles Brown N John W. Mangrum Christopher Dale Nichols N Barry Trevelyan N Stuart Turner Articles Contributed by: John Baker N Joe “darkelf” Bardales N Bil Boozer N Eric C. Daniel N Paul Fox Andrew Hackard N Andrew Hauptman N Geoff Kimber N Jarrod R. Lowe John W. Mangrum N Matthew L. Martin N Francis Montenegro Christopher Dale Nichols N Lincoln “swoon” O’Brien N Stuart Turner Kevin Webb N Adam Windsor N Jon Winter Notes from the Kargatane: The Kargatane would like to thank Robert S. Mullin for his article “The Book of Souls” in DRAGON #234, from which the title of this netbook was taken. All submissions have been edited to use Americanized spelling. This was done simply to give The Book of Souls a more coherent appearance, and should not be meant as a slight against our Anglicized authors. THE BOOK OF SOULS Release Date: October 31, 1997. Legal Notice: AD&D®, RAVENLOFT® and MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH® are registered trademarks of TSR, Inc. This book does not represent a challenge to any TSR-held trademarks. TSR is not affiliated with this book in any way. All articles and artwork are copyrighted by their respective creators. This netbook may be reproduced for personal use, but may not be used to generate revenue. 1 THE BOOK OF SOULS RAVENLOFT Kislova 77. Foreword 3. By Eric C. Daniel Introduction 4. Vin’Ejal 80. By Bil Boozer Running Ravenloft Things Art in the Land 7. Mask Doppleganger 85. By Christopher Dale Nichols By Adam Windsor The Realms Beyond 10. The Ecology of the Poltergeist 88. By John W. Mangrum By Jon Winter Saga of the Mists: Appendix 16. Foul Rat 93. By Matthew L. Martin By Adam Windsor Tarokka Games 29. Doom Locusts 95. By Andrew Hackard By Christopher Dale Nichols People Van Richten’s Notes on the Ravenkin 97. Burke & Hare 35. By Lincoln “swoon” O’Brien By Christopher Dale Nichols War Wraiths 101. Keepers of the Coil 37. By John W. Mangrum By John W. Mangrum Voodan Zombie 103. Professor Abelhous Nicholsi 46. By Bil Boozer By Christopher Dale Nichols Weapons of Sacrifice Katarina 48. 105. By Francis Montenegro By Paul Fox Marquis Stezen D’Polarno 54. Tarokka Deck of Many Things 107. By John Baker By Andrew Hackard Donovan Kaiser 59. Player Character Rules By Jarrod R. Lowe Into the Mists 110. La Société de Legerdemain 61. By Jon Winter By Stuart Turner Beasts at Heart 117. Celia Whitmoor 65. By John W. Mangrum By John W. Mangrum The Making of Men 131. The Patchwork Bride 69. By John W. Mangrum By Stuart Turner Out of the Mists 136. Places By Jon Winter Carcharodon Isle 72. Interlude 143. By Geoff Kimber MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH People Player Character Rules Harry Kirkland 146. Archeologist By Joe “darkelf” Bardales 156. Mysterious Stranger 148. By Joe “darkelf” Bardales By Joe “darkelf” Bardales Antiquarian 157. William Kemmler 149. By Andrew “Quistar” Hauptman By John W. Mangrum Alienist 159. The Sentinel Order 151. By Joe “darkelf” Bardales By Joe “darkelf” Bardales Jewel Thief 161. Places By Joe “darkelf” Bardales Gothic New York 152. Conclusion 163. By Joe “darkelf” Bardales The Souls (Credits) 165. Things The Spear of Destiny 154. By Kevin Webb 2 THE BOOK OF SOULS Fear In a Handful of Dust Welcome to the Book of Souls. Brought to you by fellow devotees of the dark lands of Ravenloft, this netbook is a gift to all who find themselves drawn into the Demiplane of Dread. In his poem The Wastelands, T.S. Eliot said, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.” He was right, of course. Something as simple as a handful of dust can hold fear… and horror. Dust is the poison slipped into the wine of a politician’s rival. Dust is the ashes of the woman who immolates herself when her lover turns to an other. Dust is the remains of the vampire scattering on the winds. Dust is that which drifts from the cerements of the dead. Dust is soil without life promising famine. The worlds of Ravenloft are our handfuls of dust. Ever since the first handful the Kargat brought, we came and added our own dust. An island of dust, a continent, a world, two worlds built of the dusts that bear fear and horror. As the Demiplane of Dread and the Gothic Earth grow, we add more and more to our wasteland of dust. This is our handful of dust. Let us show you fear within it. Chris Nichols, Kargatane 3 THE BOOK OF SOULS: INTRODUCTION October 31st, 751. NECROPOLIS. eghfeghfeghfeghfeghfeghfeghfeghf thick layer of dust coated the hall, pressed “This is madness!” cried the man closest to the into the bare stones by a heavy silence. hinges. He was dark and spindly, his eyes squinting even The hall was vast and dark, the lightless in his terror. “Kazandra told us nothing of walking dead! Atorches resting cold and dead in their Look at us! We’ve barely gotten inside, and we’ve lost sconces. Only the faintest trickles of light half our number!” were able to creep in from the hall’s many The intruder pressing against the middle of the door doorways, offering only hints of the room’s details. The was an elven woman with flowing red hair, and she hall was shaped like two mammoth, joined rings; winding continued her neighbor’s lament. “Kazandra told us the staircases led up to the hall’s second level and beyond, guardians followed strict patterns! She told us we could disappearing into the shadows of the ceiling. avoid them completely! We have been betrayed!” Suddenly, the silence was broken. Echoing from Both the dark man and the fire-haired elf had some distant chamber, the sounds of men’s screams burst directed their complaints at the third intruder, a broad- to life, growing clearer, then fading out in a gurgling shouldered man with a strong jaw, straw-colored hair, and death rattle. Once, the cries rang out and faded. Again, a small eyes the color of ice. He was closest to the gap, and scream was heard, nearer now, but ending as the first. although decayed hands were clutching at his sleeves and The third scream came from directly behind the collar, he remained calm and determined. massive double doors which led into the vast hall. That “Dinchara, Cyrise,” he began, addressing his scream died suddenly, matched by a jarring impact which companions with a chill in his voice, “I will not hear talk shook the dust from the doors’ ancient timbers. Two suits of betrayal. Remember who you serve! Remember the of plate armor were mounted to either side of these great cause! Focus on getting this damned door shut, and then doors, posed as if standing watch. The thick coat of dust we can talk about what went wrong and who to blame!” covered these suits of armor as thickly as the floor, Cyrise, the elven woman, grumbled and pressed all betraying the guards as simple displays, and if they took the harder against the door. Dinchara did likewise, notice of the struggle outside their doors, they showed no although a moment later he heard something which made sign. his skin crawl. A rasping hiss, the sound of metal sliding One of the massive doors shuddered again. This on metal. It wasn’t the squealing hinge, he was sure of time, it continued to move, slowly opening, its untended that; it was too quiet, and coming from the wrong hinges protesting every inch. When the door had opened direction. Glancing at his companions, Dinchara saw that barely more than a foot, three intruders slipped through neither was reacting; only he could hear it over the hinge. the gap, panicked and splattered with fresh blood. No Craning his neck, he twisted to peer at its source. sooner had the three intruders entered the hall, their It was the mounted suit of armor. Slowly, lanterns doing little to dispel its shadows, than they threw mechanically, the helmet was turning. Turning to look at their shoulders against the door again and slowly pushed him. The light from Dinchara’s low-slung lantern shone it shut, straining against the weight. As the gap narrowed up into the helmet, showing thick cobwebs to be its only to just a few inches, an arm reached through, blindly occupant. The entire suit of armor turned to face him, grasping for anyone it could snatch. The arm was mutely bringing its heavy, spiked mace to bear. Numb shriveled and rotten, pale bones exposed by tears in the with terror, Dinchara stepped back from the door, meekly withered skin. The arm was undead, and an instant later a bringing his upraised, spidery hands up before his face. dozen of its companions reached through the gap to join The pale-eyed man felt the sudden extra weight on it. Although at least a dozen shambling undead were now the door, and without turning to face the others he started scrabbling outside the door, they made far less noise than to bark a warning—but he was cut off by Dinchara’s the three living intruders within. 4 THE BOOK OF SOULS: INTRODUCTION sudden, brief shriek, quickly ended by a wet smack not The two intruders ran into the passage, grabbing the unlike a smashing melon. handles to the double doors at its end. To their horror, Cyrise and the pale-eyed man leapt back from the they discovered the doors were locked.