Island of Seraz

The Entan’s Pride has returned to port. Her crew cowds into the taverns and drink like every drop might be their last. As the evening fades into night, their lips loosen. Shakily, they tell a frightful tale.

Not twenty leagues from Nuvar, the Entan’s Pride encountered a ship adrift. The ship was called the Lucky Maid and her crew was dead to a man. The cleric aboard the Entan’s Pride proclaimed the cause to be plague. The crew of the Entan’s Pride quickly abandoned the Lucky Maid. They took only the captain’s log, before sending the Lucky Maid to the briney depths. Within the faded, weathered passages of the captain’s log, the fate of the Lucky Maid was revealed:

… the Maid has been adrift for days. No wind blows, and the heat has become unbearable. If not for Brother Mathius and Sister Rosella’s prayers, we would surely perish of hunger and thirst …

… the Maid is drifting towards an island, one that appears on no maps. Or compasses spin in all directions, and the finding prayers of Mathius and Rosella go unanswered. From the sun in the sky, I can see we approach the isle from the west. It is covered in swamps and marshes. A volcanoe sends up clouds of ash and smoke in the distance. The sea here is shallow, and I order the crew to drop anchor, lest we run aground. Still no wind …

… the men grow restless. We have been anchored off the forbidding isle for a week now, hoping, praying for a gust of wind. The men are tired of this boat, the incredible heat drives them mad. The swamps look to be terrible, and I am overcome with dread just looking at them. Brother Mathius urges me to let the men stretch their legs on the shore. Although it goes against every instinct I posses, I agree to his request …

… the swamps are foul. Already, 4 of my men have fallen ill from sickness that seems to permate the air. The heat is unbearable. Exposed flesh invites all manner of biting, blood-sucking insects to feast. The prayers of Mathius have restored my men, and for that I am grateful. However, his insistence we explore and map this piece of Hell quickly wears on my nerves. I fear there are far worse things then insects and disease to be found here …

… this morning we awoke to find our camp surrounded by lizardfolk. They seemed wary, and ready to attack. Mathius’s soothing voice calmed them, and through the use of magic, allowed him to communicate with them. They call themselves, the Waasan, which means “People of Waas”. They call this island Seraz.

The lizardfolk then proceeded to tell an all too familiar tale. One morning they awoke to find themselves stranded on an island. Waas seems to be their god, from where-ever they came from. They describe her as being some kind of dragon-turtle creature. Mathius assures me these “priests” of Waasan are actually druids. She is so far away, that their prayers have difficulty reaching her.

This has caused a “rift” within the Waasan. Many of the lizardfolk felt Waas abandoned them. However, resting within the volcanoe, they found another god. This being calls itself Ishaar, and granted powers to the lizardfolk who chose to follow it. They broke away from the Waasan and called themselves the Ishaari, which means “Followers of Ishaar”. I confess, I find the likelihood of a new god simply waiting for these lizardfolk to be all too convienient.

Ishaar is a bloody god of destruction, and demanded the sacrifice of the Waasan in payment for his gifts. The Ishaari rained fire and death apon the Waasan, who fled into the swamps. Even though their prayers to Waas were weaker, the Waas priest insisted that it was still the power of Waas that saved the Waasan from the depredations of the Ishaari. Unable to make any headway into the swamps, the Ishaari used their new powers to raise the dead, as well as conjure demons and fell beasts to drive the Waasan out of the swamps. The Waasan continue to persevere.

The Ishaari went before their god in shame, and it was said he slew many of them in his wrath. In the end, he provided them with a solution. With the aid of his new priests, he set a mighty curse on the waters about Seraz. The Ishaari were not certain what this curse would do, until the first ships arrived.

Ships began to beach themselves on the shores of Seraz. Some were driven there by sudden storms. Others, like the Lucky Maid, found themselves in becalmed waters, and the ocean currents dragged the ships slowly to their doom. The Ishaari were quick to enslave and capture the crews. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Halflings, even Orcs were all brought here and force to serve the Ishaari. They suffered one of two fates: to be worked to death building the giant ziggurats in the Ishaari city, or to be sacrificed on the alter of Ishaar…

… the Waas “priest” had no sooner finished his tale, when fire rained from the sky. The men screamed as some were dragged below the murky waters by rotten hands. Father Mathius himself burst into flames and was consumed before my very eyes. We fled, leaving the Waasan to their war with the Ishaari. We made it to the boats, and rowed for the Lucky Maid[i/] as fast as we could. Lizardfolk reached over the sides of the boats and dragged men into the water. Only myself and a few others made it back to the Lucky Maid …

… we weighed anchor, and the Maid started drifting towards Seraz again. However, some god took pity upon us, and a breeze blew from the west. Our hearts full of hope, and our sail full of wind, we left the dread isle of Seraz far, far behind us…

… and so it comes to this at last. The god that rescued us from the clutches of Seraz has revealed herself. I am certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it is Xanis. No sooner had Seraz passed out of sight then Sister Rosella came down with a terrible sickness. She thrashed and moaned in her sleep. Soon, the rest of the crew was similarly afflicted. I feel the fever creeping into my brain, and the cruel laughter of Xanis echoes in my ears …