Curse of Strahd
A Vistani Crone
Magic flames cast a reddish glow over the interior of this tent, revealing a low table covered in a black velvet cloth. Glints of light seem to flash from a crystal ball on the table as a hunched figure peers into its depths. As the crone speaks, her voice crackles like dry weed. “At last you have arrived!” Cackling laughter bursts like mad lightning from her withered lips.