Setting Details
The story of the Seekers:
When the ribbons of black began to scar the Mighty River where it emptied east into the Eversea, the Dawnshore tribe knew this boded ill. Filling beakers of water untainted by this sudden foulness became quite difficult. The old and young soon began to fall prey to an unknown sickness: some died. The eldest shaman spoke that sixteen Seekers be sent upriver to undo this curse. Four was a sacred number to the lizardfolk; the Ancient Constellation held four fours.
This band rowed upriver, but lost one member to the sickness. So it was they visited the Broadskull tribe, who dwelt along the way. Their home--a lake fed by natural aquifers--filled the vast caldera of a dead volcano. Though the Broadskulls’ water did not suffer from the taint, they sent one of their mightiest hunters to go on the expedition.
Further upriver, three other rivers, in sequence, join the source of the Mighty River. After examination, it became apparent that the western branch held the pollution. This region lay beyond even the Dawnshores’ travels. The small band continued up the western river until one night they were attacked by strange creatures, six-limbed feline carnivores who stood on four legs with two off the ground to hold weapons. During the conflict, two more Dawnshore hunters succumbed to wounds and died.
The lizardfolk named these now-defeated enemies the Throst, after the peculiar vocalizations they had made while in combat. Examining the camp of this vicious clan, the Seekers discovered two non-lizardfolk in wooden cages. They had travelled upriver for the same reason as the Dawnshores, but their respective companions had lost to the Throst and been eaten.
Once again sixteen strong, the group travelled for several more days before coming upon a strange sight: a huge black tree visible from afar whose branches grew at sharp angles. Disembarking from their wooden conveyances, the small band continued on foot.
When they at last came to where the fell tree stood, its many-spiked roots extending into the stream, a figure stepped forth to block their way. It stood twelve feet high and seemed to be composed of some sort of dark blue crystal, it carried a brown bladed weapon in one of its hands.
Many flint spears and obsidian-toothed clubs shattered on the being’s skin as it cut down lizardfolk; its strange weapon clove easily through the group’s pelts and bone-ribbed armor.
Many fell but at last the crystal man began to crack and was reduced to shards.
Only four Seekers remained. One of them took up the crystal man’s never-before-seen weapon and began hacking through the purely vertical trunk of the black tree. The weapon bit deep with each stroke until at last it crashed to the ground. This ceased the ichor of its roots befouling the river.
The others, gathering up what crystal remnants they could found that these pieces were nearly as sharp as obsidian and more durable than flint. They carried as much of this as they could as they began the long trek back, hoping that this new crystal could be crafted into weapons.
The Dawnshore lizardfolk insisted that the other three come all the way to the Eversea so they could be honored with celebration; it proved to be a grand festivity, indeed. At the height of the revels, the shaman stepped forward, a serious expression on his face and pronounced these four Seekers as those who only appear once in a dozen generations. They must go forth together and discover and explore all that is unknown.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:13, Wed 24 Mar 2021.
