The Journals of Zoros... A Band of the Irredeemable.

[zoroastor]

I Zoros, Historian of the Deeps and Scholar of the Arcane, in writing these journals, am seeking to chronicle the experiences of an unfortunate group of a most unconvincing party of heroes. Alongside myself and my many faces, ours is a party numbering some six strong.

We have the founder of our grouping, a particular and shall we say most truly and utterly profoundly ignorant Sorcerer by the name Kirion. Much of our support is provided by a truly monstrous Druid, whose fondness of bears is something not just extreme, but ultimately unsettling, and the true nature of this affinity escapes even his companions true knowledge. Tanaris is his name, and he might just ultimately be the least warped of the entire party...

Of the less evolved members of our party, there is the Human raised fiend of an Elf, Rand, whose seeking of the shadows, and engagements in profane mysteries leaves one to easily suspect that he is not of the multitude of the surface dwelling follies, but rather one of the profane and uncivilized Drow, and hailing from a particularly unpleasant city of the beasts, without even the minor niceties of the Wizard Kings of S'shamath. We also in our company also can count the Sun Elf Maid Natariel. While her grasp of the arcane is of some meagre fare, and her ability to actually vocalize her thoughts in distinguished company as I doth leave much to be wanted, her use of the bow is to no small extent viable, if a little common for her kin.

Last but not least, we can count the nefarious and traitorous Halfling Frin among our party. This petty and incompetent murderess, who lacks even the most base instincts of civility and culture, has more than once taken her daggers to those to whom is bound by common oath to fight alongside. While she has some appreciation for the mysteries of the arcane, her incapability to truly grasp the nuances of such mysteries leave one in no doubt of her ultimate fate. She is but a pawn in the grand scheme of the Gods and the Mighty.

This party, gathered and associated by the mad Elf Kirion, seeks in the deepest of places the means by which he can find for himself a redemption, his ineptitude in all things requiring even a modicum of tact, undoubtedly causing his flight from Evermeet in the most irredeemable disgrace. However his madness of a desired redemption led him towards contacting a desperate band to join him in his aimless and senseless journey in seeking elven relics. Lost Relics of the time when the Elves ruled the lands of Faerun, these items for Kirion obviously represent his only chance to return to what he has lost.
In contrast, Tanaris driven by the rage of nature is heading onwards in a fixated nihilistic fury, seeking perhaps a death before he becomes an instrument of destruction of the bears he seemingly loves. I, Zoros, am firmly of the view, that the innate and profound madness of these two of my companions poses the greatest long-term threat to my own life, not withstanding Frin's obsession with ruining my cloaks...
The driving focus of the party's other companions is both more simple and more puzzling. The Lady Natariel, seemingly has joined the grouping at a mere whim, which ultimately would be highly common for examples of her vacuous kin.
Rand and Frin however are both motivated by a sickness not often seen in those not of Dragon or indeed Dwarf Ken, they are both in the thrall of Gold Sickness... This untamed lust for that which glitters, must ever be at the minds of those whom deal with them, lest they feel the blade of these greedy and amateurish minds. Frin perhaps may also seek the means of my death, or so I suspect. Her hatred of me is not just profound, but almost pathetic. Surely even a limited Halfling mind can see that she will only find death in challenging me...

In our first journeys, while I wore the face of a Human Wizard, going by the name of Zoros Moros, we wondered from Baldur's Gate in quixotic search for Elf Relics... By this point it became radically apparent that the social and ethical deficiencies of this grouping, not to mention their general incompetence would afford me no small measure of public protection. While my kin are oft mistaken for the illiterate humans, we Imaskari are mighty mages, of a marble colour, demonstrating the pure magic that has now grown to dwell within our very flesh. As we scoured the caves of the Goblins, and as Frin frequently found herself slaughtered and gutted like a rat... (note, I hear Halfling Lungs are a useful reagent for some magics, perhaps a small sample..) These early failures did engender some no small sense that Kirion was as inept at leadership as his sorcerous powers ensured he was in true arcanistry. The sighs of the misanthropic Druid grew louder, as the arrogance of the Elf grew, not through his exploits, but sheer ambition and greed. Early on, it readily became palpable the sheer hate that festers in Frin's heart. She drove her daggers deep into my flesh, all as I sought to give her aid and comfort from a mistaken adventure into a nest of goblins. But no, her small and petty mind, quickly leaping to imagined slights, led to her repeatedly penetrating my back... Alas for her, I was able to seek the solace of the Goblins, and direct them to her slaughter, and the significant damage to her accomplices. However, with this outing, it became apparent that I needed another face... And so the Herbalist Myrrin Emris disappeared from his hut, and I became a humble healer, directed towards offering aid on the many adventures. While however I was acquiring this new identity, the group wandered forth seeking new treasures to sake Kirion's lust...

Of this second adventure, I cannot speak much, merely reporting what my scrying spells revealed. That Frin and Rand dabbled further into the wizardly arts, and that Kirion found himself in possession of a blade that to this instant still draws the lustful eyes of Rand... This unnatural fascination with sharp things does continue to be an interesting subject for intellectual inquiry, after all, why do these Male Elves seem to desire to use a blade that emits sound for acts of procreation? Especially considering that while she may be as plain as an empty meadow, the Lady Natariel is I believe one of their kin and thus biologically compatible...

As Myrrin Emris, I joined the party once more for a final adventure into a den of brutal and irritating beasts. Gathered together by another of those degenerate elves, she at least could see the wisdom in not listening to Kirion. However, she did seem to think that Frin was one of a stable mind, something no one who knows the mercenary could possibly believe. The task as it where was to retrieve a disk of elven make from deep within a cavern, dominated and filled with the foulest of all races to walk under the sun, (at least according to my compatriots) seeking as it where the laboratory of a genius Wizard, who sort to combine the best of the blood of the Dow, with the blood of the spiders and the blood of the orcs. The combining of spider and Dow blood while a difficult feat is a well known accomplishment, spider Dow after all are servants of that foul god of theirs after all. But this genius Wizard had conspired to mix the hardiness of Orcs, to the flexibility and dexterity of this genus. Even the incompetent Natariel could grasp the significance, of course Kirion, cowardly and incompetent as he is, lashed out with fire thinking to destroy the precious research. Not realizing of course, that I had absconded with not just blood samples, but all the precious notes on the process replication. However the end goal of this journey was not the only moment of significance. Deep in these caverns we found a magically empowered chair, that opened the mind in a most profound way. While I sat in the chair, my mind once more was whole, and all that had been lost was mine. For the moment... yet the sucking of my very life from my soul was not quite an exchange that I was willing to make. And so alas I was given no choice but mediocrity and pain once more...

Here I guess I should end this entry, constructed as it where over the last couple of months. Perhaps in time I shall be able to dispose of the Halfling and not need to ensure a record is kept in case of my own murder. But alas, this does feel a good precaution.