"Perfect weather for a ghost story, eh Joseph?"

"...Indeed." Maxwell said as he put his mask away. "...I have heard the Haze manifests as a strange sort of mist. If that is true, then this wouldn't be the first horrific phenomenon involving mist. That honor would go to the Mists of Ravenloft." Maxwell paused to let another rumble of thunder pass, using the opportunity to have some more of his stew while he waited, then began to tell a tale.

"...The Mists of Ravenloft are a strange combination of transportation and doorway to a place called the Domains of Dread, a series of dark prisons for a collection of darker souls." Maxwell continued. "Each prison is as unique as the prisoner it contains. Some are as small as a single room. Others are as large as a continent. Some are populated by innocent souls imprisoned alongside the prisoner. Others contain only the prisoner. But all of these prisons have one thing in common: They are dangerous places, drawn into the Mists to cordon dangerous monsters off from the rest of the world." Another rumble of thunder crossed the sky as Maxwell paused for dramatic effect and to take a drink from his waterskin.

"...So should you ever be making your way along a lonely, out of the way stretch of road and you see a patch of mist rolling by in the distance, be wary of venturing into it. Lest you realize too late that those mists are more than they appear to be." The half-elf went on. "Because after that, there's no telling where it is you'll end up. You could find yourself in Mordent, a land haunted by legions of restless spirits and terrifying ghosts. Or you could stumble into Dementlieu, a land of great decadence and terrible deceit. You could find your way to the door of the Vhage Agency, a place of mystery and memory loss. Or you could be taken by the Cyre 1313, a vast, strange, lightning powered land vehicle bearing the dead with all the haste it can muster away from a disaster it has long since failed to escape. The list of possible places you could go is a long list indeed... But if you are truly unfortunate, the Mists of Ravenloft may release you into the first and most terrifying Domain of Dread... Barovia." A clap of thunder compelled another pause.

"...There in that dark valley stands Castle Ravenloft, for which the Mists of Ravenloft are named." Maxwell began to wind down his story. "And within that castle the ruler of Barovia and the first vampire to ever exist, Count Strahd von Zarovich, waits patiently for the Mists to bring him fresh playthings to torment at his leisure... and yearns eternally for darker things still." Another wood shaking crack of thunder capped off the end of Maxwell's story as he took up his stew and went about the business of eating some more.