The Broken Word: A Ravenloft campaign idea

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Cutscene.

The underground chamber echoed with the tread of booted feet overhead. It was not so far beneath the general corridors, which made one of the four men gathered here decidedly uncomfortable. For the tenth time since arriving, he adjusted his collar with a finger.
"You shouldn't buy cheap fabrics, old boy," one of the other men chided him with a sly smile. "You'll get burned by them every time."
"Enough nattering!" the leader of the small assembly growled. "This is important business, so kindly cease the byplay and pay attention!"
The other members of the group bridled at this; they were powerful men, rich in influence and knowledge, not errant schoolboys here to be reprimanded by a teacher! They bridled ... but remained silent. Their leader was richer by far, after all. And this was an important matter.

In the center of this chamber stood a small, stone table, which had not been there the last time they gathered. That had been in the dark of night, a more sensible time to use this chamber by far, especially if workmen had been here since to put down that heavy table. On the tabletop lay a tattered manuscript, its cover torn half away, its pages smudged with mud and rust-coloured stains that might well be blood.

"Over half has become illegible," the leader said, "but what remains is intriguing. Apparently, Sallazin is still alive."
"What?" the collar-adjuster spoke, startled. "But you sent him into the Mists! He's been gone for over three years! He can't still be alive!"
"And yet he is," the leader said, frowning. "This document is in his handwriting, is encrypted with his cypher, and it has his unique ... style."
"But where is Sallazin?" the mocking speaker asked. "Did he just deliver this and run off again?"
"We do not know how this got here," the leader admitted. "We passed through this room, and the table and manuscript were there, awaiting our pleasure. Not that there has been a lot of it. Sallazin's notes on his travels through the Mists survive, then he writes of finding a stable Mistway and ... nothing. Fragments. A few scattered words: 'Cluster'. 'Wealth'. 'Magic lore'. 'Monsters'. 'Witches'. 'Secrets'. A few spell descriptions, for enchantments I have never heard of, a few diagrams of strange machines."

There was a brief rustling of cloth as the members of the group turned to look at each other.
"All well worth following up on," the mocking speaker mused. "You have tried to track him by using this manuscript?"
"Of course," the leader replied. "We have discovered that this manuscript has become the target of a great many magical fields, so many that Sallazin's aura has been purged from it."
"If it was ever there," the collar-adjuster cautiously offered.
"It is his work, we tell you!" the leader snarled. He coughed, composing himself once more. "It is his work," he repeated, more calmly. "And apparently his mission into the Mists has become an unintended success. A success that we must seize upon at once. If new lands have opened up in the Mists, we may well be the first to arrange trade agreements, the first to glean secret lore and curry influence with the rulers of these new lands, the first to ensconce ourselves in its communities and centres of learning."
"Why risk our own operatives?" the mocking speaker asked. "Why not leak this information to some merchant venturer and let him run the risk, then catch him on his return and milk him dry?"
"Sallazin is alive," the leader replied, his voice suddenly ice cold. "He must be found, he must report all he has learned to us in person."

For a moment, silence reigned.
The collar-adjuster spoke up: "Why not let some merchant venturer run the risk and hide a few operatives among his people? They can gather the information we want, and also retrieve Sallazin."
"Whoever we choose would need some sponsoring to make the venture worthwhile," the mocking speaker added.
"The Brautslava Institute, perhaps?" the heretofore quiet member suggested. "Or ... the King?"
A deadly hush filled the room.
"Are we to understand you wish to let him know of this discovery?" the leader choked. "Any benefit we reap would be --!"
"Sallazin travelled through his domain," the quiet speaker calmly replied. "Do you really expect him to be ignorant? The Mistway must be at his borders somewhere. Any group that holds our members going through his land would attract his attention, especially if we use a merchant. Even when they're being secretive, large expeditions attract attention. He would find some way to insinuate an agent into the group anyway."

Again, there was silence. Then the leader sighed. "We are forced to agree," he admitted. "We must select a most excellent agent for this mission, then."
The mocking speaker nodded avidly. "Yes, the best for the job. A name occurs to me already."
"And I know a merchant desperate enough to make the attempt," the collar-adjuster offered. "I'll speak to him tonight."
"Then all is in readiness," the quiet one said. "But for drafting some letters to the Brautslava Institute -- and Castle Avernus."

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Presenting the cutscene to my idea for a new campaign: The Broken Word. This campaign will take a group of adventurers into undiscovered territory, the Cluster of Broken Words, through the Mists. The campaign's ostensible reason is to make contact with new lands, forge diplomatic relations and broker trade agreements, but readers may already have noticed that there will be some hidden agendas on board (at least two).
I have a story and a setting in mind, but I would like help from someone who is very well-versed in the rules of the 3.0/3.5 setting -- these are admittedly my weakness. In short, as well as players, I am looking for a DM'ing partner for this one.

Is anyone interested?

[yergerjo]

What specifically are you looking for in assistance? Depending on this I'd be glad to help. Whats the time period as well?

[The Whistler]

And now I wish I had time for two PbPs at once...

Best of luck, in any case; I'll definitely be an interested spectator.