"Elrod, P N - I, Strahd 2 - War Against Azalin e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Von Zarovich was quite right to dispose of the invaders, but he should have more
closely questioned them. Perhaps he did and has simply not snared that
information with me. Not wise, since the smallest detail might be able to aid me
in my escape.
He had done some minor research into the nature of the Mists soon after the
isolation event. He recounted one occasion of taking the obvious ploy of tying a
string to a tree just outside the misty barrier and walking in, trailing the
string out behind him, keeping it stretched tight so as to hold a straight path.
He continued to walk, slowly playing out the line until the Mists parted. He
discovered that he had emerged but a few yards from his starting point, one end
of the string leading in still tied to the tree and taut, the other in his hand
coming out of the MistsЕ and taut.
The fool then said after this entirely minor setback that he gave up in disgust
for the greater part of a decade, thus losing valuable research time. He did
manage to make up for the lack in some small way by scouring his land for any
and all books on magic that might contain even a kernel of usable knowledge on
Barovia's unique isolation.
Though that quest did increase the contents of his library, it did not
substantially improve his situation. The chief result of his exploration was an
extensive familiarity with the geography of his land. Not that this was so
difficult a thing to master, for the country is little more than twenty-five
leagues in length at its farthest points and but ten leagues in width. He knows
every stone and has bolt holes from the ravaging effects of the sun everywhere,
another detail not to be underestimated in any plan for his assassination.
In summation, he knows much about his land, but little about the true nature of
the Mists that brought him to this pass. His chief concern with newcomers is to
question them about the circumstances of their departure point and be satisfied
with that information. He then quickly loses interest in them except as
nourishment. I wonder if the Mists themselves have anything to do with this
other apparent blind spot or if this is one of his childish deceptions.
The newcomers did get in, and if I could understand how that was accomplished,
perhaps I could discover a way to get out.

End of excerpt.

CHAPTER TWO
Winter Solstice Night, 469 Barovian Calendar, Barovia
All others mark the death of the year in midsummer, when the longest day passes
and the slow slide of ever-shortening days ends in midwinter when they celebrate
the return of the light. Not so for me. The death of the year occurs when the
longest night is done, giving me less and less time to walk in its protecting
shadows.
Not that a shortage of time was a burdenЧeternity was before me, it seemed, but
broken up into such brief increments between the sun's setting and rising that I
greatly resented having to stop my studies to retreat to my crypt every few
hours. Those studies consumed me completely, like the fever that had taken
Tatyana nearly a quarter-century ago.
Because of it no book in my library was unread, and many I pored over again and
again for weeks at a time, particularly the ones on magic. I catalogued their
various ideas, trying to index everything into a recognizable pattern that could