From the Journal of Kostrzyn Lubart�w, Wanderer of the Black Woods:

n my journeys across our world, I have seen many different lands. Each region has its own people, its own languages, its own landscape, its own wonders, and its own troubles. Yet always there is the same sense of dread in the eyes of the folk, a shadow that I recognize even on the brows of my fellow Invidians. And always, lurking at the edge of the Known World, there are the Mists...

Arkandale (Verbrek Revision)
Arkandale. A land of dark plantations, sunken riverboats, and howls in the night. Return to a forgotten domain, where the Old South meets the Demiplane of Dread, completely revised and packed with nasty surprises. What about that nasty ol' Alfred Timothy, you ask? Why, frankly my dear, I don't give a damn . . .

Ricoba (Richemulot Revision)
Richemulot? What's that? This is Ricoba, friend, the golden edge of civilization is this world of Mists. Forbidden magic tempts those whose faith is weak, and in the darkest recesses of the labyrinthine cities, unclean creatures lurk. The growing power of the Reniego family may signal the end of the fragile balance between the Three Great Faiths, and the coming of a terrible plague . . .