Icarus

Icarus Shadowscale
>Arcane Researcher

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Entry 1:

XXXXXI am going to venture out into the Scarred Wasteland for some on-site research with my peers. I've decided to keep a journal so that we can more easily go back for information on the anomalies we're seeking; Because my handwriting is the best among our group. That's alright by me, it keeps me out of the hands-on handling of the pustules and haze and other such grossness... [note to self, tear out this page before presenting it to the others.]


Entry 2:

XXXXXWe made it to the Wasteland. The dragons here are few and far between, and the wildlife is hostile. We're nowhere near our goal of the Rotrock Rim, but Styx asserts that it won't be much longer. I don't believe her, and I'm starting to have second thoughts about coming at all. We were attacked today by a group of Kamaitachi. They were not easy to fend off; Ultimately, Grumblescale managed to take them out, but not without sustaining significant damage. I didn't know how deep their claws could cut until today. They sliced his snapper scales like it was paper. Tippit is trying to heal him. This was a mistake.


Entry 3:

XXXXXWe made it close to the Rotrock Rim, I was able to see the mountainous spires in the distance, but had to turn back. Grumblescale's condition has turned for the worse, his deep Kamaitachi wounds infected by the rancid atmosphere. I myself am feeling illness come on, and it seems Styx is not doing well for herself either, I can hear her deep cough, and can tell that it feels like she's being pierced in the chest... The Starfall Aisles are several days away. They say we can make it. I am not optimistic.


Entry 4:

XXXXXWe lost Grumblescale. His condition rapidly declined, and fever overtook him in the night. Styx's condition is worsening. We have to push forward. Tippit has been silent. I can tell she blames herself for what had happened, but this disease is unlike anything that we've ever seen in the isles. She could not have done anything. Her magic only accelerated the infection. She has begun coughing as well. I hope we return soon. I am not optimistic.


Entry 5:

XXXXXWe lost Styx. It was horrific. I've never seen an affliction so horrible, the way it warped her form is something that will doubtlessly stain my mind for eons. Tippit is in a miserable state as well. She has gone completely silent; I have been carrying her across the Wasteland myself. I don't understand how any dragons stay in such a horrible place. I can hear the vultures following us. I believe I am growing slower by the hour. I am exhausted, but I need to make it out. I've heard Tippit begin to cough. I can feel the creatures of this hostile land waiting for us to fall, to strike when we are easy prey. I am not optimistic.


Entry 6:

XXXXXI lost Tippit. I am unwell. The beasts of the land found it in them to storm us, an unimaginable number of infestation hound. I tried. I tried to save her. I'm lucky to have saved myself. I am not skilled in healing magic. The hounds took her from me. I tried. I tried to get her back. I tried to fight them off. I tried.
I failed.


Entry 7:

XXXXXI can feel my wounds burning. I am writing this and moving. Pushing forward. I cannot stop. They'll catch me. The hounds are gone, but I fear something worse is behind me. I can feel it. I can tell. It's behind me. I have to keep moving. I am not skilled in healing magic. I cannot do anything about my wounds. I must keep moving. I haven't the supplies to wrap them. It doesn't matter. I have to keep moving. There's something behind me.

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Entry 8:

XXXXXAgainst all odds, I have returned to my dormitory at the Astrolodome, but I did not leave those wastelands unscathed.

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