Zarthan's Diary

 

Zarthan’s Diary

Zarthan’s diary is largely decomposed. But salvageable pages remain:

 ·       Reports come from the south. A unique wetland pocked with crags of schist and black granite lies free for the taking. It is rumored a great wizard has cursed the place, drawing in permanent clouds corrupting the very trees and plants, transforming a sunkissed land into what others disdainfully call a serpent’s paradise. I shall never understand how others deny such splendid, obvious blessings.

• I have arrived in Larkingwood—though just barely as vicious stoat-like creatures ambushed us on the road. We fought them off (thank Salomirak for Blackfang), but will be delayed several days with our injuries. The others welcome the rest but much work awaits us. First we shall… [smudged]

• So the rumors were true. A truly spectacular cave of horrors lies deep beneath this Rock Marsh, haunted not by a solitary restless spirit but by several such beings. Genuine poltergeists are they, their icy presence close and unrestrained. I have faced them and felt the exhilaration, and have lived to tell the tale. But there is one even more terrible than the others. A swirling maelstrom of color and force and pain. Even in my dreams I think of it.

• Today I set my hand upon the carved lady— her features still sharp through time and weather, but her stone has gone cold, dead to the touch. This was the failure of those who shaped her. One must work stone with faith and purpose, striving ever to achieve the sacred harmony between nature and spirit. The serpent’s bite is sharp as Blackfang; to resist, as Salomirak teaches, we must be as living stone. And that…[smudged] 

• There can be no further doubt some terrible evil takes dominion over many of these adolescents. Their blood thirst is nigh unquenchable. To know their very scent is to know the most savage wilds. I know what contagion taints their minds, for I feel it too. There is a hunger in me now, to hunt not with Blackfang, but with my own bare hands. The Toxic One tests me, and… [smudged].

• [smudged] …vision is not clear. Perhaps they were interrupted? It swirls. It stings…[smudged]

• Every evening the Glitter Shade taunts me—an image so intense these words cannot begin to describe it. I dare not question Salomirak’s wisdom. But I must confess I do not…[smudged]. • I have spoken with Bamipal and at last a proper serpent has been found. This is fortunate, as the marsh now holds sway over the weak-minded. More than half our company now comport themselves as animals, some have even taken the large weasels as companions. The ritual will draw them back. It must…[smudged]

• I must be as living stone. But my faith wavers in the final hours. How could Salomirak lead us here, to the this dour swamp of gloom and death? This is no serpent’s paradise. There are horrors here far beyond the natural world. Alas, it is too late now to abandon the ritual.

• Banipal suggests the Glitter Shade may be the work of the mage Asorin Itall, who once lived here. Remnants of his former home remain. And his portrait, which shows a jeweled… [smudged]. 

 • I can delay no longer. With each passing hour I feel less man than beast. The arrangements are made. Should I not survive, I am to be interred here in the Rock Marsh. I shall face the long night with Blackfang at my side. And if nothing awaits, at least I shall at long last be free of the…[smudged].