The forgotten Seekers

Adventure Log
Aliz's afterthoughts in her journal

It is done.. we rescued Grubbers son and captured Patches and a few others from the mansion.

It was not easy.. it has taken its toll on us in more ways than physical.

I feel such incredible frustration. What happened was.. beyond horrible. What they did was unforgivable.. from what I can piece together.. they used magic to summon a vestige of the hatchling that never was..

from here, the writing grows erratic and shaky

They gave it a semblance of life and feeling.. a desire.. a want to be loved.. I.. I feel nothing but regret and upset.. I want to cry.. I want to scream.. but I have worried the others enough.. what happened should never have happened.. I hate that we slew that twisted wizard before I could make his death more painful.

I took the egg.. I cradled it in my arms and brought it out of the circle.. ending the vestige.. it was so fragile.. I know it was not real.. no more than an illusion and yet.. yet it was an echo of something that was.. this pain.. these feelings.. these tears.. they are for something that died long before I was hatched.. the egg was centuries old, maybe millennia..

the writing recovers its legibility

This will hurt me for some time.

In more practical matters.. we sold the few things we recovered. We have a lot of gold now. We have a trip to be thinking about.. under the mountains. It may be a difficult journey.

My clan and friends are reliable. Though they are not without troubles of our own.

Drasleth seems to have found some new path.. I wonder how it will turn out for him. He seems to have found some light based god.

Kray was as reliable as he has ever been since we found him. On the way back we encountered an Owlbear of his named Brightbeak. He is full of surprises.

Yapkin mentioned her egg reacted to the vestige.. that can only mean one thing. The egg is worrying. We have no stable place for a hatchling. We will be undertaking a long and difficult journey. It may be best to delay until the hatchling is hatched and strong enough for a trip.. though that may take months.

Tiktaalik. worries me. I do hope he will be okay. I need to spend some time with him soon. His emotion troubles worry me overly. He must have used a lot of willpower to resist the call of the vestige.

Korelian has been very supportive.. and proved very reliable in the manor. he sells himself short. His power is growing. he is more reliable than he realizes.. and his genius is a reassuring asset for us.

Aliz Session Notes

Moraeces – Elder Druid, Minotaur from a long forgotten tribe, who created the Syconia plant creatures. Took on the aspect of the strangler fig. Whatever that means/is. Favoured plants and fungi. Much older than any other elder druid, may have plant-like aspects of longevity.. Verdant Lord maybe?

Syconia: strange bush-creatures that have the power to grow and also ambush unwary travelers when small. Aliz calls them Figlings. Supposedly once peaceful.

Other notes:

Aliz thinks the Figlings attacked the gardener.

Aliz can sense something below the ground.

Yapkin stole a wand of command plants (CL5, 3 charges)

Korelian Talks About His Past
(Said while Kray is resting and being healed; but isn't being kept secret from him. Korelian just doesn't know him yet and seems scared of making the wrong impression so soon)

“I think I owe you all an explanation. I’ve not lied to you… but I’ve not been open, either. You must understand… I’ve not really told this to anybody. The only people who know were there at the time…”

He sighs.

“I was hatched in the first wave of new hatchlings after the Great Betrayal. The Be…Betr…” he takes a deep breath. “Zarilantar… it still doesn’t feel right for me to name him, after so long treating his name as a dirty word. But, he used to trade with local towns and cities for food, and transported the goods by magic; without his assistance the Clan had few trade options left. ; taking iron ores and coal from the Clan’s mines. When he left… vanished… food supplies ran short. According to the Priests of Kurtulmak, much of the Clan either left and probably froze to death on the mountainside, or starved for the greater good of the Clan.” He pauses. “…though many of us decided later that there must have been a civil conflict. Fights over food… the fungus-farms were not large, not at the time, and couldn’t support…”

He stops. “There used to be several thousand in the Clan; when I was hatched, there were only six hundred – half of them new hatchlings. The unhatched eggs survived the famine; most of us were orphaned before we were born. I was lucky – or unlucky – enough to be assigned to the High Priestess, Aralaes, to be raised as her own offspring… and Rozel was the second egg assigned to her. My name… the name she gave me… was Valdar.”

He smiles faintly. “I was such an unruly child… some of my earliest memories are the cells. They didn’t spare the whip just because I was a hatchling… Aralaes made it clear that being her ward would not earn me any special treatment. But, she did heal the scars… every time…” He sighs. “In spite of it all, she told us both that we were special… she made us believe, she had such faith”

He sighs, his feelings over the memories clearly mixed.

“All the adults were adherents of Kurtulmak, or paid lip service… it was as good as a theocracy. The task was to rebuild… but the Be… Zarilantar had supposedly taken his hoard, the Clan’s treasury, everything – even the mined ores and coal that we could have traded. The mines were understaffed and production was low… and everyone who could, worked in the farms. Even the children.”

“In early adulthood, all of us were tested for sorcerous powers.” He pauses. “…I shan’t bore you with the details. But Rozel was found to be the most powerful sorcerer in generations; and I was utterly mundane. Normal… after everything Aralaes told us, set us up to think and to want… the only option I’d not dared consider or plan for. I was so sure…”

His expression is held carefully neutral, but a flicker of some powerful, deep twinge of emotion tugs at his eyeridges. For a moment, you think you can see the crushing disappointment that the young Valdar must have felt.

“She dismissed me at once; as if I’d let her down. Disappointed… even angry. I think she hated me after that… Rozel was given training to become a leader amongst the Clan; a Bishop, a sorcerer-cleric. I was… they just wanted me to be a librarian. I liked books… but the librarian was a poor role. Not special, not well-regarded, not respected… and I hated it.” His voice drips with venom; he truly did hate it. “I… I think, with hindsight, she’d expected us both to be powerful sorcerers. For whatever reason…” he pauses. “…maybe an… experiment? A failed experiment…” he mumbles, quietly.

“But I did it. I served the Clan… what else can one do? I spent years… Rozel and I drifted apart… and I… heh”, he chuckles, “I was a bit of a rowdy youngster. After that. I loved seeing the Temple embarrassed… humiliated. I loved seeing Aralaes angry…. But as I learned, and read, and catalogued, I started realising that there was something real they were afraid of. Something they were trying to hide in the turmoil of the Clan’s recent history…” he pauses. “…the lineages were missing. Or, a lot of them were; lines of descent were tracked carefully, so sorcerous power could be traced through lines of descent, and pairings suggested to maximise the Clan’s potential… but a few years before the B…Zarilantar disappeared…” he shivers, for no obvious reason. “…all the records were missing. But they must have been kept, there was no reason not to… they said some of the splinter groups who fled the clan in the famine, must have taken those records. But surely that was too convenient.”

“There was more… missing records of recent and more distant histories, gaps in the library, elders being unusually reticent about details of the Betrayal and the Famine…” He pauses. “…I wasn’t the only one who thought there was a problem… and that’s how I met Pilon. He was a farmer… and a priest. A secret priest; a priest of Io… it would be death if he was found. He was older, he’d lived through the Betrayal and the Famine, but trapped in the lowest depths of the farms… and he said that he remembered the priests of Kurtulmak taking over. They’d once been one faction amongst several… and they took control of the farms and the food supply. He suspected that they engineered the crisis, withholding food from their enemies and granting it to their friends… and he thought they must have driven Zarilantar away, deliberately, as a way to seize power.”

“There were others, a dozen of us, who all believed that… we were the Cult of Io, of course. We laid plans… to investigate the most hidden and sacred places of the Temple, explore Zarilantar’s sealed lair, hunt out their secrets… and expose them. I… well, between us all, we hatched a plan… one of us sneaked into the Temple, protected by all the magic we could muster between us…” He smirks. “…none from me, it was before I learned anything about the arcane. She found a hidden passage to a secret vault… filled with large iron doors, locked… the priests were in there as well. She had the impression… great riches there. Great power. She thought it must be Zarilantar’s lair… but it didn’t matter. She was seen, and followed, and… we were discovered. Arrested.”

He pauses, his muzzle flushing with the shame. “I willingly helped a group of insurgents betray my own Clan. I did it because I thought they were wrong… and that they needed to be stopped.” His muzzle twists in disgust. “Was that my call to make? Isn’t that every traitor’s defence? No. I betrayed them… and I paid the price.” He pauses, a tear running down his muzzle. “Aralaes was angry. So very angry; her own ward, a traitor. They sentenced us all to death… except me. Me, they sent to the mines… the prison-mines. The dangerous seams, starvation rations, surrounded by convicts and… criminals.”

He’s silent a long moment. “…I never could decide if she was being merciful, or if she did it to prolong the suffering. I spent years there… I don’t know how long precisely.” He gulps. “I was… reviled. Hated.”

He’s very quiet, very still, for a long, long while. Then he speaks, his voice a hoarse whisper. “There was an accident. The mine caught fire… the coal was burning.” He pauses, shivering. “…it happens. The fires keep burning quietly for years… the Gorix Clanhold was heated against the mountain’s chill from a seam of coal that was lit centuries ago…” He pauses. “…in all the smoke I found a weak part of the tunnel walls, where fresh air was getting in… found a natural cavern… and a cave to the surface. That’s how I got out. They’d abandoned me… they thought I burned to death in the tunnels. Nobody would ever have gone back… too unstable.”

He rubs his left arm as if cradling it; he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it. “…I managed to get off the mountainside, and find civilisation… spent years living in the shadows, scavenging… learned some magic tricks to try and earn some money for food… and eventually found Skyfire, and was granted asylum.”

He stops, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “…Rozel had a good heart. He looks… older than I remember. More assured. Less… arrogant.” He snorts. “…a bit. But I’m an embarrassing piece of history to him… nothing more.” He sighs. “…I’d never heard of Vulivkren. Nor anyone called Nayagin. I… I only knew of Skyfire as an allied Clan from days gone by, I didn’t even know Felnuvek was Zarilantar’s mate…” he speaks the name without his usual hesitation this time… but flinches afterward.

He stops, and relaxes a little. “…that’s my story. I’m… I was going to tell you. Just… not like this. Not…” He stops again. “…Rozel. We were like brothers once… I never saw him after… the court sentenced us. I never… I…” he pauses, suppressing a faint sob. “..I always hoped… he would be glad to see me again.”

He pauses, mulling it over, that last and freshest wound in a story that’s evidently a source of great pain for him. “…I want to be alone for a while.” He whispers, a few tears dripping from his muzzle.

Korelian Skyfire's Journal, Entry 1
Destroyed the day after writing

Dearest Journal,

It’s been a while since I annotated my thoughts like this; I gave it up once, after I realised how futile it was to write meaningless thoughts on the mundanity of life around me. A part of me wonders if it’s foolish to do so now -Is finding the truth even possible? We are small fish in a world of sharks and fishermen, and our only virtue is being insignificant enough that for the most part, nobody cares. Yet Felnuvek’s ‘blessing’ will soon force us to leave Summerset; we cannot long hide what Tik is going through, and the local authorities have proved their powerlessness to stop our real enemies – and we know enough good people here that I would not wish to put them at risk. Vulivkren is after us; and I am not at all confident he would not level the town to destroy us, if necessary.

We lay our plans and take our precautions, but are we really strong enough, cunning enough to escape our fate? Perhaps we simply choose to believe we can ever be agents of our own destiny, even though we know that it is not our efforts that determine when we rise high in triumph, or fall into the abyss. Fate is a hunter; and however large we feel and however small the world seems, we are always its prey. Sometimes it lets us forget that; toys with us, taunts us, gives us the illusion of hope. Like a cat with a mouse before the final killing bite.

Too many events are in progress; some are dire, some merely could be. The hunter is closing in.

Tiktaalik. Sometimes I look at his ever more draconic form and I’m glad for him; pure of heart and good and brave, if any deserve to ascend and make their mark on the world, surely it would be him. Yet other times I see the pain it causes him; look at his twisted hands and feel so sad to think he may never ride Mo again; never swing a sword; on some level, always be held apart from us by his form and his power, however much we would not wish it. Other times I look in his eyes and see the mysterious Fire there, arrogant, domineering, violent and angry – just a flicker, just for a moment. That flicker terrifies me; is it merely strange new instincts arising to match his form, or is he becoming something terrible, losing his purity and innocence right before our eyes? That would be a calamity; and so I am in my books, pacing, worrying, researching, for it must not happen, and I will not let it. He gained the Helm by bravely trying to save me and then Dras from Felnuvek’s wrath, without fear for himself; and if this is my fault, if my weakness had a hand in doing this to him, then I must prevent it. The debt must be repaid – and I think, I hope, that it is possible. There are always ways.

Lapir. He knows something. His master, Lord Kelgon, created a device called the Hammer of Vivacity, with which he could forge and reforge Quintessence – the soul, the silvah, call it what we will. Yet, when I ask about it – originally pertaining to Tik’s condition – Lapir becomes instantly catatonic, and when he awakens he remembers nothing of the question. He’s been given this information, buried somewhere in his little clockwork head; and it’s blocked, so nobody can use it; it damages him to even think about it, and I dare not ask more without some way of tinkering with the magic and the mechanisms, or the information may simply be lost forever.

If Kelgon truly is long dead; perhaps he saved his sister by putting her into a clockwork form, perhaps he attempted to reforge his soul into a dragon form, but ended up a scaleless mutant with a pathological hate for the lower world after the Revolt… speculation. But potential connections worry me. So very few have ever delved into the secrets of the soul; what are the odds that we should be connected to two of them, entirely by coincidence?

Sonen. What are the odds we should meet the man who carried Lapir’s remains, and an Iron Sword, right outside the ruins of Skyfire, hours after the massacre? What odds he should know Rodan, who – the more I think – the more I’m sure worked with Vulivkren. Perhaps Rodan was tricked; perhaps this ritual he attempted was a trap to ensure he couldn’t reveal Vulivkren’s secrets. Or maybe Vulivkren did it to him, against his will. The book is the key; it must contain answers, and we cannot risk its destruction.

Sonen, did you have a part in all this? Did you know, is that why you helped us and showed us pity, even though you’ve made it plain you care little for us beyond that?

Marcus. He was so surprised that Lapir was working again, so disdainful of us, so eager to push us away and not be involved with us. At first.

Yet at every turn he has been involved, mostly by his own choices; through Sonen; by hiring us for the dig team; by saving us from Vulivkren. What are the odds of it? He knows more than he’s telling. He seemed surprised that after reading his journal we might still want to help; what secret have we missed, what throwaway comment or unfinished sentence might be the key? We must ask him; he would not have given us his journal if he truly wished to conceal it – so, it is something he WANTS us to know, but FEARS our reaction to.

What if he once worked with Vulivkren? He got angry when I told him Vulivkren mentioned soldiers, a war… I could see that suddenly, Marcus realised something, and knew he’d been tricked, lied to.

That mage. The mage who captured Rodan and sent his friends to steal Felnuvek’s hoard. Who is he? What is his purpose? He knows something, he knows a great deal, and he’s against us. What does he know, and how can we find out what he knows? Can that Eagle of Aliz’ tell us anything?

Vulivkren. He’s come to kill us – no, to kill me, specifically. Blamed me for the deaths at Skyfire. Was it a taunt to try and divide us at the critical moment, or to make me give up and allow myself to die in the hope the last of the Clan might be spared? Loose end. War. Perfect soldiers. Failed experiment. Inconvenient. Yet surely it’s more than that; why would he attack so directly if he did not consider it serious? Was I just incidental, was it perhaps Tik’s helm that he was after? Or Sonen, maybe? One of the others, some forgotten secret in their past that caught his attention? I do not think him foolhardy enough to reveal his key purpose, yet I also doubt he is the manner of person to lay idle taunts. He had purpose, every word; yet what was the meaning we’re not seeing?

I will commit this page to the flames in the morning. Knowledge is power. Secrets are weapons; the Clan needs to take care of its arsenal.

Io preserve us.

The eagle riders Loot

You find this on their bodies


Yapkin's Yapping

Yap yap yap yark bark yark yap yap. Yap yap? Yap! Yap yap yark bark yark yark yap! YAP! Yappin yap yap-yark yark.

Draselth's Journal - dies Saturni 3 Maius

I can’t stand seeing a chained being, this… dragon… is one of them.
Why can’t they understand how hurry we should free him, but it seems I’m the only one willing to do so.
I… I had to do something.

I don’t understand why they don’t want to free him already.
He’s trapped in chains… They want me to ask guidance to the Ancients.

They can grant me the power to share my knowledge, I needed some time.

I have no idea what happened, but Korelian did seems a bit in a hurry when I met him at the INN.

They didn’t want me to share my thoughts with the Mayor? odd. I still want to save him.

I’ll do it either they’re in or not. I know of what the court is made, I want to save him.

I must act fast. I hope Blue and Rob will help me with that.

May the Ancients’ Light be with me…

Draselth Journal - dies Saturnī 26 Aprilis

I found strange things in Rodan laboratory, so I did gather the group to think of what to do.
I don’t know what happens here, I want answers.

Korelian did know more than I about the ring I found. It pointed to the Mayor’s house.

We couldn’t search the place, the guard did know about the missing alchemist a bit… too.. fast… it’s strange.

This party wanted to talk to Sonen about this. It was a bad idea in my opinion.
And then, I guess I was right.

Sonen wanted to turn us in. I didn’t have the choice than use mental influence, it didn’t go well.

Sonen took Korelian with him to take him to the Mayor. We’re really in trouble now.

Why would he want us dead? It was a bad idea since the start to share our thoughts with him, bad bad idea.

There were 3 adventurers with the Mayor. Apparently, they’re the one who captured the dragon, and he’s alive.

Aliz want to buy the dragon’s liberty, I wanted to break up the chains.

Korelian have a plan… I hope it will work… I hope it will work…

Draselth Journal - dies Saturnī 19 Aprilis

We spent a few days in Summerset. Korelian doesn’t seem to go very well.
I did talk to him a bit. Now he seems to go better. That’s good news.

Aliz, Yapkin and I wanted to take Pancakes for breakfast. Tik suddenly burst up on the scene.
Apparently, Korelian left, probably to see Felnuvek without us.

We had to find him, fast. It’s sad that there was no steed in Summerset, and Mo might not be able to carry us all.

Aliz strange powers were handy. I don’t really like how that she just… changed… into a horse…
Anyway, She was travelling fast. I had a hard time staying on her back.

On the Road, she found a left letter of Korelian.

We finally found him, with another kobold : Falier, the Sorceress.
She was a bit harsh at first, then she was kind, but a bit scared.
She lost her clan just like us. She was alone in this world. She must have been protected by the Gods.

She followed us willingly. She seems to know a lot about the Arcanes Arts, maybe like Blue, I don’t know.
Her power must be great, she noticed that I was cursed at the first touch.

I don’t know how she did it, but she found a way to remove the Mark of Justice that Felnuvek imprinted on me, with the help of Aliz.

She’s incredible.

From now, We will need a plan, probably search for clues in Falier’s Clan?

No matter what choice we make, I shall bring the light of the Ancients and be the protector of the ones who matter the most to me.


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.