Tales of Ravenloft

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Edited by

Brian Thomsen

TALES OF RAVENLOFT

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or

dead, is purely coincidental.

All TSR characters, character names, and the distinct likenesses thereof are trademarks

owned by TSR, Inc.

This book is protected under the copyright taws of the United States of America. Any

reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited

without the express written permission of TSR, Inc.

Random House and its affiliate companies have worldwide distribution rights in the book

trade for English language products of TSR, Inc.

Distributed to the book and hobby trade in the United Kingdom by TSR Ltd.

Distributed to the toy and hobby trade by regional distributors.

RAVENLOFT is a registered trademark owned by TSR, Inc. The TSR logo is a trademark

owned by TSR, Inc.

Cover art by Roger Loveless.

First Printing: September 1994

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 94-60102

98765432 1

ISBN: 1-56076-931-9

TSR, Inc.

P.O.

Box 756

Lake Geneva, Wl 53147

United States of America

TSR

Ltd.

120 Church End, Cherry Hinton

Cambridge CB1 3LB

United Kingdom

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

The Crucible of Dr. Rudolph van Richten ...........1

David Wise

1. The Vanished Ones......................................18

Chet Williamson

2. The House of a Hundred Windows ..................33

Mark Anthony

Song

Snatcher............................................52

Elaine Cunningham

4. Undefiled...................................................70

James M. Ward

5. The Briar at the Window ...............................84

Roger E. Moore

6. Nocturne....................................................99

Alien C. Kupfer

7. The Wailing...............................................Ill

Kate Novak

8. Von Kharkov.............................................128

Gene DeWeese

9. Sight and Sound........................................ 144

D. J. Heinrich.

10. The Judgment of abd-al-Mamat.................... 157

Jeff Grubb

11. The Rigor of the Game ...............................174

James Lowder

12. Cold, Hard Silver .......................................189

Juanita Coulson

13. Objets d'Art ..............................................204

J. Robert King

14. The Freak.................................................222

Nick Pollotta

15. The Weaver's Pride.....................................251

Elaine Bergstrom

16. The Glass Man ..........................................266

William W. Connors

17. Dark Tryst................................................281

Andria Cardarelle

18. Caretaker.................................................303

P. N. Elrod

As Darkon's heavens deepened past indigo, receding

beyond the ruddy backward reach of dusk, sinewy

vapors slid between the trees and churned into dim

mirages on the old forest road. Shadows lost their con-

fining edges, merged, and thickened. To scorn shelter in

the land of the Mists after sunset was deadly folly, but for

one traveler, the promise of a bright hearth and a warm

bed had already slipped into darkness.

Dr. Rudolph van Richten turned and grimaced at the

burden lashed to the rump of his horse: the stiffening

corpse of a dark-haired young man.

"We may both be ghoul meat tonight, but I'll catch

your people before the flesh eaters find me, Vistana!" he

spat with a great deal more conviction than he felt.

The lean, middle-aged herbalist searched the dimin-

ishing horizon ahead, desperate for any sign of a brightly

painted vardo. He'd ridden hard since morning, yet the

gypsy caravan had somehow outdistanced him anyway.

There was no other route they could have taken from

Rivalis, but he had seen no sign of them all day. Still,

Van Richten rode on doggedly, as fearless of the impend-

ing night as a lamb of the chopping block. The Vistani

had kidnapped his beloved child Erasmus, and all the

torments that might descend out of the night were noth-

ing compared to that loss!

As Tasha trotted along the eclipsing lane, Van Richten

scanned its overgrown borders. He spotted a slender

oak branch that hung by a feeble tether of bark; the

2 DAVID WISE

bough snapped off cleanly in his hand as he guided

Tasha past it. Draping the reins over the saddle, he

trimmed and peeled the wood into a crooked pole about

as tall as himself. Then, grasping the coarse linen shirt

of the lifeless Vistana, he ripped free a wide swath, which

he wrapped about the end of the staff and tied off, fash-

ioning a long torch. Now for the courage to light it.

Overhead, the leafy ceiling cast a net of opaque

shadow over the horse and rider, reducing the gritty road

to a colorless strip that withered into void just ahead. A

deathly hush smothered the forest, and the lonely stac-

cato of Tasha's hooves rose in the silence, growing

painful to Van Richten's ears. He vainly wished she

could walk above the ground so they might slip through

the woods without sound, but with every step, even her

saddle creaked in betrayal. All creatures of the day were

deep in their lairs, while things that creep in the night

were just rising, pricking up their ears at the isolated

clip-clop in the spreading blackness.

The anguished father wondered if he could keep the

path without a torch. They were alone, and he wanted to

remain so. Dr. Van Richten was just a peaceful herbalist

from a small village—no match for danger—and only

the torturous vision of Erasmus drove him on. A man

who braves the Darkon night, went the saying, will see

wondrous

things

before

dies.

Until

now,

that

had

been an old preacher's proverb, spoken with a chuckle

. . . and behind safely bolted doors.

The merest suggestion of a queer noise implanted in

Van Richten's ear, and a cold shiver wrung his spine. A

dim wisp of light flashed in the nearby underbrush—or

so he thought. He ogled the dark spot, but spied nothing

beyond the murky flank of the road. A shadow flitted by

Van Richten's stirrup. His eye darted after the motion,

but caught only a snatch of gyrating mist. He blinked

and squinted at the depthless surroundings, then shiv-

ered again.

"Perhaps

it's

only

the

echo

light

a man

sees

when

he closes his eyes," he murmured hopefully.

Tasha expelled a tense, low whinny and turned her

sleek head in the same direction.

THE CRUCIBLE OF VAN RICHTEN 3

She had seen something, too.

Another phantom spark flickered in the eaves of the

weald, then faded. With a start, Van Richten turned

toward it. A scattering of pinpoints ignited nearby, dying

as quickly as he looked their way. He glanced to the

other side of the road, where more pale fires kindled

beneath the brush. Their numbers multiplied, and soon a

greenish glow slithered through eerie silhouettes of

thicket, illuminating the undergrowth in a faint pall.

Another shadow rolled by underfoot, spooking the

horse, and the rider nearly lost his balance as she shied

from

it.

"Easy,

Tasha,

easy

girl,"

urged,

soothing

the

mare with a stroke on her gray dappled neck. "It's only

mist and faerie fire."

Tasha threw back her head and snorted anxiously,

stamping one hoof and then another.

"1 suppose 1 must light the torch," Van Richten mut-

tered, putting down the reins once more and reaching

into the chest pocket of his wooly coat for a small,

spring-loaded spark block. He squeezed the roughened

strip of steel against the small flint bar, compressing the

spring, then released it. The file scraped across the sur-

face of the block as the spring uncoiled, releasing a

flurry of brilliant sparks.

hope

we're

alone,

girl,"

remarked

Tasha.

"This

torch will—" Van Richten caught his breath and held his

tongue.

Something had whispered in the mist below.

Tasha's ears snapped forward, angular and trembling,

and her muscles went taut between Van Richten's legs.

A blood-chilling, unnatural moan fluttered the horse's

muzzle, inducing an ominous tingle under the man's

skin. Instinctively he pocketed the spark block and

caught up the reins. Then Tasha's ears went down flat—

With a sharp heave her equine scream splintered the

silence, piercing Van Richten's heart with icy dread. The

mount reared up and leaped as if she would climb into

the air, nearly flipping onto her back. Van Richten madly

flung down the torch, seized her mane with both hands,

and leaned into the cringing saddle, clutching with all

the strength his four limbs could muster. The unhinged

4 DAVID WISE

animal

bucked

and

spun

blind,

reckless

hysteria,

fill-

ing the air with shrieks that wound higher with every

convulsive breath. Meanwhile, the Vistana corpse behind

Van Richten flailed wildly on Tasha's haunches, striking

the doctor with blows from its floppy limbs. With each

thrash, Tasha's sturdy mane slipped further through Van

Richten's fingers. For a moment he experienced a

queasy weightlessness, until he and his mount collided

with a barrier of pine trees, brutally knocking the wind

from him. Tasha writhed against clawing needles and

lunged away with another scream, leaving the doctor

entangled in the branches, ripping free of his clasping

legs and wheeling out of sight while he plunged head-

long into a pulpy thicket.

For a long and dizzy moment, Van Richten lay oblivi-

ous in the wet and thorny bed, but fear that Tasha might

whirl back and trample him provoked him into action.

He rolled out of the bushes and into the road, now illumi-

nated in the subtle blaze of faerie fire. He frantically

searched around him for stampeding hooves, but Tasha

rampaged in another direction. The thought struck Van

Richten that she might bolt back to Rivalis and leave

him stranded, so he crawled stupidly toward her, still

unsure of his feet.

The mists suddenly parted, and a bolt of horror shot

through him—Dr. Van Richten abruptly drew up on his

knees and threw his hands to his mouth.

Even as Tasha ferociously pitched herself into the air,

a swarm of short, pudgy humanoids leapt and clung to

her! The lunatic horse squirmed and kicked furiously,

yet the little fiends only vaulted in greater numbers.

Beneath Tasha's piteous screeching, a babble of clicks

and hisses passed between the diabolical villains as they

hopped along the ground, fearless of her hooves, and

flung themselves upon her. They hung from her legs and

shoulders and haunches by their teeth, their stumpy,

digitless limbs twitching as she vainly sought to shake

them off. The miserable beast began to sway and

founder, until at last her forelegs folded. She buckled to

the ground with a rough heave, and the horde swept

over her.

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摘要：

EditedbyBrianThomsenTALESOFRAVENLOFTCopyright©1994TSR,Inc.AllRightsReserved.Allcharactersinthisbookarefictitious.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,ispurelycoincidental.AllTSRcharacters,characternames,andthedistinctlikenessesthereofaretrademarksownedbyTSR,Inc.Thisbookisprotectedunderthecopyr...

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