Legendary Wondrous Item 

The Tome of Strahd is an ancient work penned by Strahd, a tragic tale of how he came to his fallen state. The book is bound in a thick leather cover with steel hinges and fastenings. The pages are of parchment and very brittle. Most of the book is written in the curious shorthand that only Strahd employs. Stains and age have made most of the work illegible, but several paragraphs remain intact and readable through various parts of this book. Whoever possesses this tome will be the target of the Strahd's ire and will likely be cut down first, but while wielding it they have advantage on any attacks against Strahd von Zarovich.  

From the Tome of Strahd:

I am the Ancient. I am the Land. This is my truth now and likely shall be forever. Though parts of me still remember a time when this was not the case. 

My beginnings are lost in the darkness of the past. I was the warrior in service of Barovia, I was good...or at least, I must have believed I was good. I fought for the denizens of the valley, against threats within and without. I was honored to fight for a realm so beautiful, but in the end I was just a man. And as just a man, the years of war and bloodshed wore down my soul as the wind wears stone into sand.

All goodness was slipping from my life. I found my youth and strength gone, and all I had left was the hope of a good death. My army expanded the borders of Barovia until the whole of the valley was conquered, all in the name of King Barov and Queen Ravenonia. The Last of the Von Roeyen's saw fit to reward me for my unerring service and devotion. I was given wealth and freedom to settle wherever I chose. I chose to remain, here in this valley. I was such a fool of a man. I should have left and never looked back.

I settled in the burgeoning Village of Barovia. A humble township forming beneath the shadow of Castle Ravenloft. A place I know now is doomed. It was there where the true tragedy of this tale began. It was there, in that humble village, that I would find Her.

Of all living souls in this valley, one spirit shone above all others. A rare beauty. She was blessed with a loving spirit, a keen mind and a timeless beauty. I was smitten. Her name was Tatyana. I knew that so long as I lived, I'd never find another like her. I did not know then, just how right I was.

I loved her with all my heart. I loved her for her grace. I loved her for her joy. And, in spite of reason and logic, she loved me too. She saw in me something I could not see within myself.. I still do not understand just what it was that allowed me to earn her love. I fear I never shall.

We would soon make plans to wed. We were to have a beautiful family, and a magnificent home. We shared dreams and hopes. We thought our future was bright.. Ironic.

A week before our wedding was to be held. The king's son, that foul cur Sergei, had come to collect the ever increasing taxes from the village. It was on that fateful day that he saw my beloved Tatyana. He deemed that he must have her as his wife. So swiftly was she torn from our home, from my arms. They had taken her to Castle Ravenloft, where was to be wed to the prince of Barovia.

This would not stand. I would have Tatyana in my arms again, and the bastard Sergei would lose his head for this insult. I would gather my arms and sneak into the castle under the cover of darkness. I did not even reach the castle walls before I was detoured into Queen Ravenovia's garden by the sounds of my weeping beloved.

I found my precious Tatyana in hysterics. She had fled from Sergei, after wounding him grievously. She would not have a chance to explain. The castle guards had found us, along with the bloodied Sergei. I met the Kingsguard in combat, with the hope to give my love time to escape.

There must have been at least twelve men. I was not the young warrior I once was, but they did not have a fraction of my experience. By the time it was over, I had emerged victorious, though gravely injured. Bathed in blood and bearing several wounds, I willed myself to stand. I had to find her. She had ran, and in the chaos of battle, I did not notice Sergei had pursued her. 

By the time I saw her, the bloody prince had found her as well. He had cornered her by the cliffside. 

I do not remember beginning to run.

I remember my body moving before my mind, and I was moving with frightening speed. I believe that when the boy-prince saw me charging him, like the image of death itself, he understood his life was to end. In a final act of cruelty and cowardice, he threw himself as well as my beloved Tatyana off the cliff face. 

I remember still the fear and despair that gripped my heart in that moment. 

That cruel twist of fate must have lasted a lifetime. She met my gaze as she began to fall. A face gripped with fear and sorrow. I had failed her, and it was clear in her expression that she knew that.

I watched everything I ever wanted fall from my grasp forever. 

I fell to my knees with a howling scream. A well of furious despair brimming within me. I closed my eyes and slammed my fists into the earth. I begged the Gods above to return her to me.

That's when I saw it. It resembled a person, but it was a mass of shadows and mists. A foul red light coursed through it, as if to simulate eyes and hands. It spoke with a hundred voices, vying for prominence amongst the rest. It told me it was a just god, ready to undo this tragedy, but this entity had neither of a god's grace or justice.

It promised me that I could have Tatyana. I merely needed to become it's champion. I hesitated. I wanted my beloved in my arms again, more than life itself. But my every instinct in my withering form told me to flee. This thing pretending to be a god was pure evil given form. I rejected its offer.

My punishment for refusal was far worse than anything I could have imagined. It had rewound time itself, encasing me in the most horrid moment of my life. It forced me to repeat that cursed run forever, ending with the sight of my betrayed Tatyana falling to her certain demise. 

I must have relived that moment a million times. No... More than that, still. 

I was stuck in this vicious loop of time and misery until I complied. 

This entity had all this power.. yet it still wanted my consent. My compliance. My submission.

It was inevitable that I would break. After all, in that cursed moment I was but.. just a man.

I cried out and said it was enough. I told this thing that I would serve.

It retorted that it needed a champion, not a broken husk of a man. And so it saw fit to transform me.

I became the first of my kind. A creature of endless hunger, doomed to live in darkness and never see the light of day again. It told me that I was a "vampire" and my legacy would be that of misery. A curse to be passed on through eternity. 

I had been transformed, but Tatyana was not yet at my side. It told me that I would wait. I would live forever, and only when it saw fit, would She be returned to me.

But not as she was. The version that would return would have a new face, a new life. She was never to remember me. She would fear me. She would run from me, because of what I now was.

And if so ever She was to fall in love with me, since mortal hearts are beyond divine understanding, then She would be doomed to die. 

If I ever were to try and keep her, or guard Her. She would die.

I could not possess any connection to Her, or She would die.

This dark god saw my future as clearly as you would read these words on a page.

I've lived centuries, and I have committed untold atrocities. All of which matter not to me now, but they would have certainly disgusted the man I was then. He had no idea the dark path that awaited him.

As am I certain more darkness awaits me, still. Even after fifteen centuries of darkness.

I am writing in this tome to still my mind, and quell my anxious musings.

My beloved Morella is with child but I fear these dark powers loom near us still. 

It waits to undo this fragile peace I have found.

I write this on the eve of my daughter's birth. Morella has promised that it would be a girl, and She assures me that a mother always knows.

She has already chosen a name for our daughter. Lucia.

I pray she is born healthy, and free from my curse. Though I suspect the latter is too lofty a hope.

I will soon lock this tome away, in the hopes that I may share my story with my child. So she may know the truth of her cursed father.

If, as I fear, the shadows descend upon my joy, and claim my beloved family. I will attempt to harden my heart further still. This tome will be cast away to the flooded, forgotten ruins of Berez. As it would be... just like that drowned village, merely a reminder of my endless, unending misery.