Angel of Retribution: Saint Markovia

Alizandra Markovia: Blessed Beginnings

Alizandra Markovia’s life was blessed and unique from conception. Her father, Toma
Markovia, was a woodsman who spent long weeks away from home whilst logging. Her mother,
Steliana Antonescu, worked as a shepherdess and midwife. They had been married nearly thirty
years and Steliana had never been able to carry a baby to term despite their efforts to create a
family. After many tries and devastating miscarriages, the two had given up hope in ever having
a child of their own.
One night, however, Steliana had a vision. She detailed the vision in her diary1. A man,
bathed in sunlight, wearing a white robe and golden crown, descended from the clouds. He
reached out to her, taking her into His arms. He told her that He was the Morninglord,
Commander of Creativity, Inspiration’s Dawn, The Rose-and-Gold God, Bringer of the Dawn,
Lord of Birth and Renewal, Patron to Spring and Eternal Youth, Mentor of Self-Perfection. He
placed in Steliana’s womb a child who bore a thread of His own glory. This child would go on to
do great things, He told Steliana, and that hundreds would follow her leadership.
The next day, Steliana told her husband, Toma, that she was pregnant and that this
infant would survive. “She is Blessed by the King of the Dawn!” Steliana proclaimed, and she
and her husband embraced in joyful celebration.
In the year 301, Alizandra Markovia was born. From the moment she opened her sky-
blue eyes, it was clear to all who beheld her that Alizandra had been touched by true divinity.
From the glowing rune upon her forehead, to the wings she would one day unfurl in holy
crusade, Alizandra was more than human.

Early Life
Alizandra grew up as the center of her parents’ life in their small village. According to her
mother’s diary, she began to speak in full sentences at twenty-two months old. It was clear that
she would require more teaching than Toma and Steliana could provide, so the little family
gathered their belongings and moved when Alizandra was three.
They moved to a city built between mountains and sea, and joined a newly built temple
dedicated to the Morninglord. Toma and Steliana let the clerics of the temple teach their
daughter, finding jobs in the city to fund her education. Alizandra’s exceptional intelligence and
wisdom impressed the clerics and soon she was being trained to join the priesthood herself.
Alizandra grew up with few friends among her peers. Her isolation at the temple and her
maturity made it difficult for her to make connections with children her own age. Instead, she
spent most of her time socializing with adults. As a result, she was well versed in politics and
economics by her adolescence.
When Alizandra became a young teenager, a physical change in her became apparent.
As she reached adolescence, a pair of small, white-feathered wings grew from her shoulders.
She had always been marked as blessed by the Morninglord, with the glowing markings on her
forehead, but the wings only further proved her connection to the divine. It became obvious that
Alizandra was not human, like her parents, but instead Aasimar.
Alizandra began to experiment with her innate abilities as an Aasimar. By the time she
turned fifteen, she was able to call light into an object, heal with just the touch of her hands, and
see through the darkness. She was an imposing figure even as a teenager, quickly growing to
nearly two-and-a-half meters tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular build. She sought out
training to hone her arcane abilities as well as learning to wield a sword, declaring that she
would be a weapon of the Morninglord.
1 Steliana Antonescu’s diary was brought to Barovia by Alizandra, a gift from her mother to remind
Alizandra of her upbringing. Some pages have survived the passage of time and are kept preserved in
the Abbey of Saint Markovia
Coming to Barovia
Alizandra Markovia was officially declared a fully trained priestess and cleric of the
Morninglord at seventeen years old, in 318. She was well admired by all of her fellow clerics at
the temple on the mountain and with that admiration came jealousy. Markovia felt she could
never quite fit in with the clerics who had raised and trained her, and determined that she would
need to start a temple of her own to truly fulfill her destiny as the Morninglord’s champion.
Markovia connected with a few other clerics who felt a similar wanderlust, and began her
travels. She visited many cities and villages near the sea, travelling the coast for a year before
returning to the mountains. Along the way, she found many who were willing to devote their
lives to worshipping the Morninglord, and they joined her.
Shortly after her nineteenth birthday, Markovia and her followers found a small but
beautiful valley, inhabited by a diverse population of heathens who had not yet found the light of
Lathander. They began to build their temple near the peak of one of the smaller mountains
surrounding the valley. After three years of tireless work, the Abbey of Brilliant Worship was
completed in 323, and Markovia had a new home.
Alizandra Markovia, though now devoted to worshipping the Morninglord and teaching
his ways to others, had always had a soft spot for midwifery, due to her mother’s dedication to
safely bringing newborns into this world. Markovia made certain that a part of her Abbey of
Brilliant Worship was used as a hospital, taking care of the ill or wounded, and that the hospital
was well equipped to take care of pregnant mothers and newborns. Over her many years of
working at the Abbey, Markovia delivered over a hundred babies, blessing each of them in
Lathander’s name.
In addition to her work caring for the sick and for new mothers, Markovia made it her
mission to teach the ways of the Morninglord to the native people of the valley, who worshipped
a trio of fey “goddesses'' instead. While certainly the archfey who, according to legend, once
lived in the valley were powerful beings, Markovia taught the natives the difference between
archfey and true gods and goddesses. The native people, mostly nomadic hunter-gatherers,
were willing to listen to Markovia’s teachings in exchange for the healing services she offered at
her hospital. Over time, a small village sprung up around the Abbey of Brilliant Worship, where
the nomadic natives could safely spend a harsh winter or sell goods they had made during their
travels.
It was also during the early years of the Abbey of Brilliant Worsip that a man named
Barov von Zarovich began a conquest of the valley. He had spent his youth conquering similar
untamed areas, building his own small empire, and this valley was his next target. As the Abbey
of Brilliant Worship was completed, Barov’s armies were beginning to war against the natives of
the mountains.
While some of the natives saw Markovia as one-in-the-same with Barov, and declared
her an enemy, others found sanctuary at the Abbey after disastrous battles against the von
Zarovich army. Markovia took no stance on the political turmoil and it seems that she never met
Barov von Zarovich at all.
The conquest did have an effect on the Abbey. As Barov’s army pressed deeper toward
the mountains, outsiders came with him. Hunters, woodsmen, farmers, and wounded soldiers
began to settle the valley in Barov’s wake. Soon, word spread to the settlers that a church to
Lathander had already been built, and those with religious inclinations came to seek their
education. As such, the Abbey of Brilliant Worship found new clerics, whose families and friends
moved into the village. Soon, the village became a town, and then eventually the town became
a city which was called Westfort.
For the next twenty years, the Abbey and Westfort were a sanctuary for anyone seeking
shelter from mountain winters, aid for sicknesses of the body and mind, or succor from the word
of the Morninglord. Markovia slowly built up a family of priests whom she could trust with all her
heart, and revelled in the glory of what the Morninglord had given her.

Three Curious Visitors

During the next decades of peaceful study, Markovia’s abbey would be visited by three
strangers who would become quite significant to Barovian history later on.

Visitor the First

In 332, the tenth anniversary of the Abbey of Brilliant Worship’s completion, a studious
man came and asked for a tour. Something about him was compelling and strange, and the
priest who met the man first quickly sought Markovia. Markovia greeted the stranger
courteously, and he introduced himself as Argynvost. A patron of scholars and a knight,
Argynvost found the Abbey of Brilliant Worship to be quite intriguing. After all, it combined
schoolhouse, convent, hospital, and training ground quite neatly, each aspect of Abbey life
balanced perfectly.
Markovia was delighted to meet Argynvost. In him, she found someone who was a
kindred spirit. They could spend hours in discussion over a single line of text from a history
book, or in quiet contemplation while observing a piece of art. Argynvost was someone who
could meet Markovia on an intellectual level like no one she had met before. Meet and exceed,
in fact. Markovia expressed her wish that Argynvost would stay and be a teacher for her,
despite her being long from school aged. Argynvost was amused by this request but ultimately
turned it down. He had his own plans, and would soon be living on his own mountainside
surrounded by his own followers.
They parted after a few weeks of friendship. Argynvost and Markovia would write one
another letters, delivered by ravens, over the years to come, but never met again in person.
Argynvost, of course, brought his Knights of the Silver Dragon into the valley, who met their ill
fate far too soon.

Visitor the Second

The other stranger that Markovia met was a young man named Sergei. Sergei arrived in
339, along with his mentor, who called himself Sir Ophiuchus. Sergei was merely fifteen years
old, but was training to be a cleric of the Morninglord, as Markovia had done many years before.
Sir Ophiuchus taught him religion, magic, swordplay, history, and literature, much in the way
Markovia had studied when she was Sergei’s age. Sir Ophiuchus was actually a friend of
Argynvost and had come to the Abbey of Brilliant Worship at Argynvost’s suggestion.
Markovia saw a lot of herself in young Sergei. She welcomed Sir Ophiuchus and Sergei,
letting them explore the Abbey as they pleased. Sir Ophiuchus, it seemed, was searching for
some relic that he believed had been lost in the valley. Markovia had little interest in treasure
hunting, however, and could not offer him much help there. The pair only stayed for a couple
months, though Markovia would always consider Sergei to be something of an unofficial
apprentice afterward. It would be many more years before she learned that the Sergei she had
met and taught in the thirties, was the Sergei von Zarovich who would die horribly in the fifties.

Visitor the Third

Eighteen years after the Abbey of Brilliant Worship was completed, in the winter of 341,
the city of Westfort found itself host to far less pleasant guests. The son of Barov von Zarovich,
Strahd von Zarovich, had retreated into the mountains following a nearly disastrous battle with
the native mountain men and their allies. His army had lost many warriors, but was still larger in
number than the population of Westfort and the Abbey combined. Housing these warriors was a
burden on the city. As soldiers so often do, they began to take over, stealing food and
possessions from the people of Westfort, forcing them out onto the streets so that soldiers could
have their homes, and starting fights. The city council turned to Markovia for help, begging her
to force the army to leave Westfort.
Instead, Markovia welcomed Strahd and his warriors to Westfort, and asked them to stay
and recuperate for the long winter ahead. “The Morninglord provides for his worshippers, even
in the harshest of winters,” she said. In exchange for housing and food, the army would need to
obey the city’s laws and participate in weekly prayers to the Morninglord. If not, she warned,
they would find themselves cast out into the snow. Strahd accepted, as winter was already
moving into the mountains when he arrived and there was little other choice. He also promised
that, when the valley was conquered under his father’s name, he would send a tithe to the
Abbey in thanks for their generosity.
Over the next six months of winter, Strahd’s army lived in Westfort. Strahd was a strict
and well-respected leader, and his warriors did as Markovia had requested. They followed the
city’s rules and came to prayer meetings each week. In addition, Strahd enlisted them to build a
palisade around Westfort. Westfort suffered frequent wolf attacks during winter time, so the
palisade was welcome.
Strahd himself stayed in a room in the Abbey of Brilliant Worship. Markovia’s followers
had collected a small library of religious texts, which he studied with interest. During this time,
Strahd and Markovia got to know one another quite well. They dined together most evenings,
played chess, and even sparred against one another in the courtyard when the weather
permitted. Markovia later described Strahd as a “brilliant, methodical, and terribly cruel man.”
While both parties remained outwardly courteous to one another, Markovia and Strahd never
became friendly.

Markovia and the Matriarch

During the winter of 341 and Strahd’s stay, the people of Westfort and the clerics at the
Abbey faced another problem. While wolf attacks were not uncommon in the mountains,
especially when prey was scarce during the winter, there was something different about the
attacks that season. Not only were there the typical wolf attacks, but dire wolves began to attack
the city as well. The attacks became more vicious and more tactical. Markovia realized that
these were not attacks from simple creatures. There was more behind the tactics the wolves
used. She knew something would have to be done.
Markovia, accompanied by Strahd, his general Rahadin, a trio of seasoned hunters, and
two of Markovia’s most trusted priests, set out to find the den of these dire wolves and the
source of their preternatural intelligence. The eight-person party began to search the
mountainside, and eventually tracked down the dire wolves and found their den. Markovia
decided that their next course of action was to stage an ambush against the wolves.
Their attack on the wolf den did not, however, go as expected. Markovia and her party
found themselves facing not dire wolves, but humans. Living in an underground den, dressed in
primitive fur and leather clothing, and eating raw meat, these savage humans fought with as
much ferocity as any wolf. After a tense fight, Markovia realized these people could be reasoned
with, and called for her party to set down their weapons, asking instead to speak with the
humans’ leader. Surprisingly, the humans agreed, and Markovia and Strahd were taken deeper
into the den to meet with the so-called Matriarch of this group.
The Matriarch was an elderly woman, scarred from battles past but strong for her age.
She was equal parts wary and curious about these strangers, and wanted to know why they had
come. Markovia, though cautious, was eager to learn more. After some tense discussion, the
Matriarch revealed to Markovia that her family were lycanthropes, werewolves who followed
Mother Night. Markovia had heard the valley natives speak of this Mother Night2, and has
surmised thanks to her childhood studies that Mother Night was the dark goddess Shar. She
was immediately certain that no peace could be breached between her people and the
lycanthropes, however she was also aware that she and her priests would not leave this den
alive if she showed her feelings to the Matriarch.
Strahd von Zarovich, however, seemed excited by the Matriarch’s hereasy, and wanted
more information on her family’s lycanthropy and worship of Mother Night. Markovia was
dismayed to see him so taken with the werewolves but said nothing. After a long conversation,
the Matriarch agreed to cease her attacks against Westfort that year, in return for Markovia
keeping her family’s den and lycanthropy a secret.
After returning to the Abbey, Markovia asked Strahd to remain on the mountain that
spring, using his men to root out and defeat these evil werewolves. Strahd refused, and his
army was able to leave Westfort shortly afterward. While Markovia did train her priests in
combat, there were far too few warriors under her banner to go after the werewolves herself,
and her only potential ally had left her.
Since she could see no way to defeat the werewolves, she instead turned to protecting
the town. The wooden palisade was to be replaced with stone walls. Everyone who left or
entered the city was to be accounted for. Twenty percent of the city’s population was to be
trained as city guards, either by volunteering or by being drafted into the job. Markovia stepped
up the combat training of her clerics, teaching them to wield weapons and magic against the
forces of darkness.

2 There is some debate over the identity of the so-called Mother Night. It seems clear to this author that
the goddess Shar fits the bill best, but others argue that it is her twin sister, Selune, who is the true
Mother Night
 Unfortunately, the Matriarch had managed to get spies inside of Westfort before security
of the town tightened. They reported Markovia’s actions to the Matriarch, who sought to defeat
Markovia and quash the movement to rid the mountain of werewolves.
The Matriarch knew only one way to show dominance over a community: defeat its
leader. As the sun set one evening, the Matriarch and her entire family arrived at the gates to
Westfort, demanding a one-on-one battle with Markovia. The people of Westfort, at first, refused
to entertain such a ridiculous request or to pass along the word that the Matriarch was waiting
for Markovia. However, the Morninglord Himself told her that her enemy awaited at the gates,
and told her not to fear this battle.
Markovia dressed herself in her shining plate armor, armed herself with her holy blades,
and descended from the Abbey without fear. She ordered the city guards to open the gate and
stand aside. As she stepped out, the sky lit up as if it were high noon and not twilight. The
Matriarch flinched away in fear and pain, but was not one to run away from a fight. She and
Markovia faced one another.
“In the name of the Morninglord!” Markovia proclaimed, unfurling her two-meter wide
white feathered wings, her eyes glowing with divine power. The Matriarch growled and snarled,
her form twisting horrifically until she was half-human, half-wolf.
The battle was fierce. The Matriarch was filled with bestial fury and was no easy foe,
managing to avoid Markovia’s swords over and over. Then, as the air filled with the sound of
sweet voices singing, Markovia cleaved the Matriarch’s head from her shoulders in one swing.
Terrified by this display of the Morninglord’s power, the rest of the werewolves fled. The
people of Westfort fell to their knees, prostrating themselves before Markovia. As she hoisted
the Matriarch’s head upon a pike, she spoke to the people.

Do not kneel before me, my friends. It is not my power that deserves your
admiration, for all that I am was given to me by the Morninglord. Let us praise
Him, and only Him, at the Abbey!

The people of Westfort and the Abbey began a seven-day celebration following the
defeat of the Matriarch. They fasted and spent the week worshipping the sun that shone
overhead. It is said that the sun did not set for that entire week, basking the mountain in a
golden, continuous glow.

The Blessing of the Sacred Pool

Westfort became a rallying point for those interested in killing werewolves. Hunters and
adventurers from all around flocked to the mountainside. Slain werewolves were paraded
around the town, their heads placed on pikes that decorated the city walls. There was much
celebration with food and wine whenever a hunter successfully killed a werewolf. Such was the
culture of Westfort in the years of 342 to 344.
Markovia, despite her hatred of evil, began to find the bloodlust of the werewolf hunters
unseemly. Following the death of the Matriarch, she had removed herself to the inner chambers
of the Abbey, focusing on prayer and enlightenment rather than city politics. She refused to give
her blessing to any werewolf hunters, seeking instead some divine intervention that could help
her free the werewolves of their curse and bring them to the Morninglord’s light. Surely, she
believed, death was not the only answer.
One day, during the weekly prayer meeting at a shrine in Westfort, a pair of hunters
dragged a bloody, beaten young man before the congregants. They claimed he was a
lycanthrope, and called for the congregation to celebrate as they spilled the last of his blood on
the altar for the Morninglord. The crowd, worked into a frenzy, rose up and exalted in the
bloodbath that was sure to follow. The young man was tied to the statue of Lathander that stood
at the shrine, and crowd members took turns throwing rocks at him.
Then, Markovia stepped out from the crowd. “Halt!” she called, and everyone drew still.
The hunters had their captive between them, a knife at his throat and a sword pressed against
his belly. Markovia strode forward, those around her falling to her knees, overwhelmed with the
sorrow and anger that rolled off of her.
“The Morninglord does not desire bloodshed in His name,” Markovia scolded the crowd.
“He gifted us with birth and renewal, not death and destruction! In your eagerness to rid the
valley of evil, you have become as twisted and bloodthirsty as the wolves you hunt!”
Markovia turned to the hunters. “Put down your blades,” she said, and they did so
without hesitation. To the young man, she asked, “Do you seek redemption?”
“Yes,” he responded.
“Do you seek to rid your soul of evil?”
“Yes.”
“Will you accept the Morninglord’s glory and devote your life to His word?”
“Yes!”
Markovia commanded the hunters to cut the man loose. She took the young man’s
hands, leading him to the clear pool of water beside the shrine. She waded into the frigid waters
with him and pushed him beneath the surface. Holding him there, she turned her eyes to the
sky, a glowing blue light shining from them.
“Bless this man! Remove the Curse that stains his soul!” she called. The crowd all fell to
the ground as a brilliant light filled the pool. Covering their eyes as the light became blinding,
they felt the ground shake as if from terrible thunder.
When the shaking ended and the light faded, Markovia stood in the pool with the young
man, now washed clean of blood and dirt, his wounds healed. “You are one of the Morninglord’s
children now,” Markovia told him. His lycanthropy was cured and there was much rejoicing in
Westfort that day. The pool, touched by the Morninglord’s power, remained clean and filled with
rejuvenating magic. The shrine became known to all as the Shrine of the White Sun.
It was following the blessing of the pool by Markovia that people began to refer to her as
a saint. History now knows her almost exclusively as Saint Markovia.

The Tyrant
Westfort no longer stood as a symbol of death and hunting. In fact, the werewolves that
had plagued the mountain were no longer in the area at all. They had joined Strahd von
Zarovich’s army, and by his side helped him to finally defeat his enemies in battle. In 347,
Strahd conquered the valley, naming it Barovia after his father, and naming himself Count. He
began building a home for himself in the east, which he would call Ravenloft.
 Now that the valley had been conquered by Strahd, Markovia faced a dilemma.
Markovia knew Count von Zarovich for the devil that he was, but with the Abbey so far removed
from his newly built Castle Ravenloft, there was little interaction between the two leaders.
Markovia knew that Count von Zarovich considered Westfort and the Abbey as part of his
kingdom, but she was willing to ignore him so long as he stayed in the east. Markovia prayed to
the Morninglord for guidance and felt certain that, if the time came to rid the valley of Strahd, the
Morninglord would send her a sign.
Then, ten years after she had met Count von Zarovich, there was a horrible shift in the
valley. All at once, dark magic sliced through the mountains as neatly as a pair of shears
through cloth. The mountains shook and trembled, the sky roared with thunder, and darkness
fell upon the valley. The sky clouded over and thick mists rolled in, cutting the valley off from the
rest of the world. In his castle to the east, Strahd von Zarovich had given his mortality for power,
embracing the darkness and becoming Vampyr. The ugly stain of his greed tore the valley from
the fabric of reality, thrusting it into a plane of its own. Never again would the sun shine down
upon the Abbey of Brilliant Worship, nor would the valley ever be free of Strahd’s tyranny. This
would become known as the Year of Mists.
Markovia herself was struck down and nearly killed during this event. Her connection to
the Morninglord was cut off so quickly and violently that she found herself terribly weak, unable
to even lift her head for weeks. While in a deep sleep, however, she came to the realization that
there was only one thing she could do in the face of such evil. Markovia knew that, although He
could not speak to her in this place any longer, the Morninglord would want her to root out the
evil and bring the sunlight back to the valley.
Markovia began to build an army. She took all the able warriors
from the Abbey and Westfort down the mountain. She recruited the
defeated natives who had survived Strahd’s first conquest, she recruited
fellow clerics of the Morninglord, she even followed rumors of good
lycanthropes who had never joined Strahd’s side. Over the next six
months, her power grew, until she was ready to battle the Devil Strahd.

The Attack on Ravenloft

Markovia, followed by a legion of powerful warriors, rode to the
gates of Ravenloft. Above her army flew the flag of the Morninglord.
Count Strahd had many spies throughout the valley, and was prepared
to fight back. His army was now a mix of living soldiers who had helped
conquer Barovia and the undead, risen through evil necromancy.
Markovia’s army stormed the castle, beating back the hundreds
of living and undead soldiers who stood in their way. As clerics of the
Morninglord, Markovia and the others from the Abbey of Brilliant Worship
understood how best to defeat undead foes. Markovia’s army used flasks of holy water, spells of
radiance and daylight, and silvered weapons to fight back against Strahd’s allies.
Over three days, the battle waged. On the first day, Markovia’s army cleared the castle
grounds and outbuildings. On the second, they breached the main floor of the castle. By the
third day, the majority of her army had fallen victim to Strahd’s hoards and the traps he had laid
throughout Ravenloft, but Markovia had finally entered the catacombs where Strahd waited for
her.
No one knows what took place between the two of them. It was a wicked battle, lasting
so long that many believed both Strahd and Markovia had been killed, with no winner to ascend
and take Ravenloft. However, as night fell, Count Strahd arose victorious, Markovia’s bloody
wings clutched in his hands.
Markovia’s army had been dispatched, save a few stragglers who managed to escape
and tell of the long battle. Despite pleas from the people of Westfort, Count Strahd never
returned Markovia’s body to her home, instead choosing to bury her in his own catacombs. It is
said that he walked with a limp for years after his battle against Markovia.

The Siege Upon the Abbey of Brilliant Worship

Following the destruction of Markovia’s army, Strahd then moved to crush any
resistance that still lived in the Abbey of Brilliant Worship. His forces fell upon Westfort, killing all
who fought for their lives. Once the population of Westfort was controlled, Strahd commanded
his army to lay siege to the Abbey. Winter was coming to the mountains, and Strahd simply
waited, killing anyone who tried to escape or rise up against him.
By the spring of 352, the priests and workers inside the Abbey had run out of food and
wine. Without Markovia to guide them, they gave in to their greed and paranoia. Small, petty
arguments lead to assaults and eventually tempers grew hot enough that assaults became
murders. Only a few lived long enough to die of starvation.
Strahd, happy with the torment he had put the priests of the Abbey through, gave it and
Westfort to Ladislau Krezkov. Krezkov, one of Strahd’s loyal soldiers, renamed the city to Krezk.

The Aftermath
With Markovia slain, all hope of usurping Strahd from the throne was lost. Her followers
went into hiding or were killed by those who wished to prove their allegiance to the Count.
Newly-named Krezk became a ghost town, with very few remaining behind. Krezk was still well-
fortified by the stone walls around it, and Strahd was able to convince Ladislau Krezkov to stay
and govern the city despite its dwindling population, suggesting that Krezk would be one of the
most defensible cities in Barovia should an uprising ever happen.
While the worship of the Morninglord was never explicitly outlawed by Strahd or by
Krezkov, as it was briefly in Vallaki, the deep religiosity of the city had died alongside the priests
in the Abbey. Still, the pool that had once been blessed by Markovia was still crystal clear, and
the people who lived in Krezk could hardly forget the influence she had over the building of the
city. A few years after her death, to appease the Lathandrites who still lived in Krezk, Ladislau
officially renamed the Abbey of Brilliant Worship. Honoring the unofficial founder of Krezk, it is
now known as the Abbey of Saint Markovia.
For almost three hundred years, the Abbey stood empty but for the ghostly memories of
times past. Then, an outsider came to Krezk with a mission. Known as the Abbott, this man took
up the mantle that Saint Markovia once held, turning her Abbey once more into a sanctuary for
the ill and infirm. His title has been passed on for generations, each Abbott a paragon of
solemnity and grace. These days, the Abbey of Saint Markovia is home to some of the most
downtrodden people of the valley, looked after by the Abbott. Perhaps, in the future,
worshippers of the Morninglord will return to Krezk and rebuild the Abbey of Saint Markovia into
the religious center of Barovia that it once was.

Written by Teodor Besarion Givi Dragomirov