Centuries ago... before the age of conflict... before the age of mourning... at the dawn of the age of flames... a group of mages attempted to gain the power to travel beyond the veil of Karthun, thus piercing the dimensional barrier and ripping open a hole to the Nine Hells. From there, the Worldfire slowly consumed the continent before being stopped by the creation of The Chain. Ever since, small gaps have appeared, opening doorways to other planes, other dimensions, bringing creatures to The Last Continent, or spiriting them away....
As you all lay comfy in your beds for the night, you all begin to toss and turn, you begin to dream. You see The Chain spread before you, steam rising from the water as the flames of the Hells flicker behind it. The steam slowly shifts, expanding and darkening as it begins to engulf the entire area in a thick black fog.
A sudden shift as you're thrust forward into the fog. You see a man in regal clothing standing before The Chain. His face is featureless and he simply stands with his back to the wall of radiant energy, his hands clasped together behind him. Finally, he moves one, making a dismissive gesture. As he does, the golden light behind him shatters and falls into the water in glitter-like shards.
Another shift as you fly out of the fog and over the continent, rising up to high enough to see most of Doryan laid beneath you. The fog and flame slowly consume the continent as a sinister chuckle fills the space around you. You turn, and there is now a weapon in your hand, now standing on a floating bit of earth as you stare up at the figure, now hundreds of times your size. Around you are people, some of them you recognize as your friends, some you don't recognize at all. You all raise your weapons as one, and a surge of light spreads from them, arcing up toward the figure, who recoils before shattering in much the same manner The Chain had.
The world around you disappears as the entire area is consumed by light. You sit up sharply as you feel your body drenched in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as you look around your familiar room, an uneasy feeling sweeping over you as you are unable to shake off the strangely real dream as you get up and begin to go about what will surely be a completely normal day....
-Karthun to Curse of Strahd, Opening Narration









