The Journals of Zoros, Exile of Imaskar

[zoroastor]

Week 1.

My memories have been failing. I woke this morning in a cold sweat, a woman's name at the tip of my tongue. A face like a shadow haunting me, teasing me, reminding me of what was lost. Never more than this moment do I lament the needs of my people, to send those like me out into the world, bereft of any means to remember our own way home. But still I send these infernal reports. I have moved away from the foul settlements of the Drow, looking instead to move ever upwards, seeking to find any evidence and details of what hath occurred since my people fled to the world's centre.

Week 2.

The Upperdarks are a dank and senseless place... There are too many beasts and creatures of stone wandering these caverns. I came across a Human Wizard, he was calling himself Moros... I overheard him reading a missive from a Kirion Durothil. In this missive it was mentioned a deep desire to find historical Elven Artifacts. Knowing this would give me an opportunity, I slew the wizard, and memorized his face... I would use this in the days to come. Perhaps it was time for me to seek more information as to what has been happening in the world above...

Week 3.

My memories are fading more... I felt the most indeterminate rage, driven in part by my own inability to comprehend why I was infuriated. I have met with Kirion and his compatriots. A particularly foul Halfling, whom seems to want to kill me, alongside a beastly dwarf called Ungir took my focus, at least for the moment. As our journey's continued, it was quite apparent that Kirion was an inept leader. He lacked both courage and ability.. The druid of the group, a Tanaris, had a kind of unnatural connection to his bear... I dare not think any deeper on that issue.

Week 4.

No further memory loss noticed... However, my companions, they seem to want to kill me... The halfling and the dwarf directly attempted my murder. Only the regenerative capabilities I have invested in, and my arcane knowledge of the forces of life and death kept me from tasting mortality. Kirion's inability to control his servants further deepens my view that the Elf is a useless son of a house that has expanded too far...

Week 5.

I lay awoke for much of the nights of the week dreaming of a lost world, of a lost life. I am beginning to wonder as to the wisdom of fulfilling my mission. Without hope of returning home, how can I justify this endless search and continuous reports to an uncaring few so far away. I feel so tired... Not even the animosity of the halfling or the indignity of the elf can rouse me... I feel it may be time to take another face, and see if it would be good to present someone new...