office if it is still something I wish to pursue. The best way to do that-when the time comes-is to simply assassinate him. He has the nobility so firmly under his hand that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves without him. A strong leader stepping into his place would likely be well received, so far as I can determine. None here have the courage to even think of challenging his authority.
As an alternative I have thought of using the peasantry, but they too have little inclination to change. They have a vast distrust of strangers, and it is widely known by now that I am from outside of Barovia. Like the nobles, they fear me, so the only power in their numbers would seem to be that of complete inertia. Von Zarovich has also taken it upon himself to circulate wild stories about me meant to increase their uneasiness. It would seem that where I am concerned he is loath to allow me even the most unlikely of openings. Perhaps, should the occasion demand, I might find a use for a single, easily led individual within their ranks. Much more simple than trying to convert an unwilling-and unskilled-army to do my bidding. For that I can just re-animate a few thousand corpses. Barovia certainly has no lack of these, thanks to the lord of this miserable land.
As for his precious Vistani, I've had no contact with them whatsoever, though I am often aware of their close presence watching me. I've since amended my opinion that he fears them. When conversation touches upon them, he seems to see himself as a condescending patron rather than the Vistani as manipulated pawns. However, I suspect that both qualities are in operation at once in their interactions together. It hardly matters to me, since it is not likely I can make allies of them to oppose him. Should things come to a conflict I shall just have to count them as being with the enemy and deal with them as such.
Von Zarovich knows nothing of these musings, or if he does, then he is better at bluffing and lying than is humanly or inhumanly possible. I have observed him in every phase of mood and know that I would recognize any false note he might care to strike with me. When it comes to it, he isn't that much different from the rabble he rules, much as he would like to think otherwise. It only takes a bit more effort on my part to keep my deceptions in place, but he can be fooled and misled the same as the rest.
Though rife with weaknesses he would nonetheless make a formidable opponent should we have a falling out. Our agreement still holds and must continue as such until I can effect my escape.
So far the spell I cast to prevent him from seeing beneath my outer illusion appears to be working. Often when we're busy at certain types of new spell work a puzzled expression passes across his face, and I can almost hear the slow grinding of his thoughts as the questions come to him. He tries to hide it, doubtless wishing to conceal this vulnerability from me. Many times I have observed him drawing breath to voice a query, but never has he actually been able to bring himself to make it thanks to the spell's influence. I am almost moved to laughter for his futile strivings to put the facts together, but I sensibly maintain self-control.
I should not underestimate him, for his grasp of magic is dangerously quick and firm. Over the last few months he has all but soaked in every scrap of knowledge I have been willing to share. I have kept some things from him, lest he outstrip me in those areas, but his progress, compared to my own training in the Art, has been terrifyingly fast. In this short space of time he has learned and mastered what took me many, many decades to perfect.
How he enjoys to lord it over me, too. He is very aware of his genius and is often insufferable, always finding petty amusement for himself by trying to pick away at me. In Oerth, some rulers actually paid for this to be done to them by having a foppishly dressed fool in their court. I never bothered with such idleness, but I am forced to endure it now-was forced to endure it. Since I am now in my own house, I shan't have to suffer his company as often as before.
I must always remember that no spell seems too complicated for him, and his development and command over them is truly astonishing. This is a decided threat and my only way to guard against him turning the skills I have imparted back upon me is to always conduct myself as still being his superior in the Art. So long as he thinks he can learn more from me, then he'll not be too inclined to make a nuisance of himself. In truth I am still more skilled and powerful, yet I keenly feel the disadvantage of not being able to take in new spells. He has no such limits, having become accomplished at the design and invention of new castings and the boldness to put them to use.
Perhaps it was a mistake to teach him so much, but for an escape to be successful we both must have an equal sharing of knowledge in certain areas, so it could not be helped. I have taken steps to build certain protections into the structure to prevent him from spying on me without my knowledge, though. I am certain he has some sort of scrying spell or device and have often felt his presence peering over my shoulder. He does not peer too closely, I think, for fear that I would discover his game. Too late for that. He is found out, but I let him continue for now. Knowing in what he is interested will help me to defend against him in the future should it be necessary.
I can now find little fault in the manor house. My initial complaints I weeded out during its reconstruction. It is small compared to what I was used to in Oerth, but will serve well enough here. The laboratory is what is most important about the place and despite the primitive conditions here it is the equal of any I have used in the past. The only complaint I can make is the length of time it took to construct it in the first place. The limits of Barovia's resources, skilled workers, the miserable weather-all seemed to conspire to keep me trapped in Castle Ravenloft throughout the whole of the winter. Von Zarovich was also too soft on his workers; whenever I endeavored to press them to greater speed and productivity he would undermine what little authority I had over them. This would never have happened had I been in complete charge of the project. I would have had them at labor day and night and damn the weather and weariness; the undertaking would have been finished in a quarter of the time.
Though it was a struggle I held back my temper, partly because of our agreement and partly because I still need Von Zarovich to cast the spells which I cannot learn. But I did not squander the extra time, and used it to enrich my mind by plundering his library. It is amazing to me that he's been able to amass such a quantity of books given his situation. They also serve as another reason to annex Barovia into my rule once I have returned to my own land. I should not care to leave behind so excellent a collection to molder to nothing once their owner is no more.
End of excerpt.
543 Barovian Calendar, Barovia
Mid-summer arrived again and Azalin announced that he was finally ready to execute his escape spell.
He had been busy for months with the preparations. These last stages were quite complicated and so extended my magical abilities in certain areas that with constant practice what had once been difficult now became second nature to me. It was a different style of spell work than what I had grown used to, requiring new mental disciplines and a great deal of stamina. Had I been an ordinary man the drills alone would have exhausted me to the point of collapse. The local peasantry bore the brunt of my proportionate increase in hunger since my dungeon supplies were rather thin just then. I'd been so busy with the project that neglecting my duties of keeping the law had become the norm.
As for Azalin, his work had taken an experimental turn, combining my travel spell-the one I had used to deliver him to the house from the castle-with a summoning one in his store. I say experimental because the mixing of spells is a dangerous practice. The least glimmer of incompatibility could be disastrous-such as that incident with the hole melted through the rock wall-and I would be the one in the line of fire. Though he was a master of such a difficult Art, it would be up to me to actually execute. Again he did not learn the spell himself, but insisted that I be the one to cast it.
'The timing is delicate; this task should be yours,' I said as he made a last check of the wiring and fluid levels in the glass containers.
'I shall be occupied holding and sustaining the energies.'
'I can do that just as well, more easily.'
'Is the work too much for you, then?'
'Not at all, but I am thinking that it is rather too much for you.' I was very curious why he hadn't bothered to school himself in the new conjuration as it would have been safer for each of us to be fluent with it.
He continued as though he had not heard me.
'You have no answer for that?'
'For what?' he snapped. 'If you want to have another theoretical discussion I shall be pleased to accommodate you, but not just now. The solstice takes place in less than an hour and I have no time to waste. You should be preparing yourself for the effort as well.'
