Recollection - Volume 3

A highly detailed frontispiece featuring an open book and a quill, the symbols of Vorin, decorates the inner surface of the cover of this book. Right below it, a few simple words: With the blessings of Vorin and the generous aid of Gorstag Tessele of the Blue Order of the Sky

The title page also bears a picture, this time as background: that of a dark moonlit glade, the boles of the surrounding trees looming over it, pressing in thickly. The drawings of the leaves in the foreground are extremely detailed, almost a study of botany, with each vein and margin, are drawn precisely.

Recollection, Volume 3 by Thienna Relimion, as a Fatespinner Savant of the Blue Order of the Sky (now a member of the Green Order of the Forest)

This is the story of the dracolich known as Thanalos, as told in his own words. Whether it is read for edification or entertainment, the story is a profound one.

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And so the dragon was left in a kingdom of tortured souls and agonized spirits. Brought alive by the curse, the souls of so many he had bound to him in undeath began to cry out for vengeance in his mind. He was not sure if they were truly there, or they were imagined.

Was it simply the sight of so much death that dredged up old memories of his tortured adversaries? Or were they really there?

The avengers he had bound to him, trespassers who had once ventured into his lair, joined the cries of the dead within his mind. He could hear nothing but the cacophony of maddening, anguished cries.

And so he found a corner of the forest, and he dug, and dug, creating a hole for himself. There he buried his own skeletal form, trying to drown out the cries. There, employing his ability to cast without speaking, without moving, he tried every magical method he could to force himself to sleep.

The need for sleep once seemed like a tedious waste of time. Yet now, in undeath, he could not achieve it. Eventually, however, his mind went silent, and still. The cries were still there, but they seemed far away. Time seemed to be replaced by a black void.

His life replayed in that state, over and over, forced to relieve every moment again and again. This was not magic or a curse. It was his mind wandering as he could do nothing else, so it wandered, again and again, to more pleasant moments than the one he was in.

The dragon awoke, the temporary silence snapping him out of his reverie. He clawed at the surface around him and burst forth from the ground, taking flight in a black forest. Angry spirits pursued him, but were struck down by visitors into this forest.

He tried to return to his old ways. He tried to torment the visitors for his amusement. He could see they were noble hearted in intent, if nothing else, and so he mocked them by boasting of his cruelties in life, and forced them to play games under threat of death.

And then he noticed, when it was over, it brought him no pleasure.

It was like a food you had eaten too many times...

The undeath had dulled his emotions, yet his many centuries in reverie, reliving his life, had made a once sweet taste a sour and bitter one. Left with only his cold mind, he began to realize what a foolish child he was in life.

News of this dragon and those avengers the dragon bound to him, that revolved around him like an ioun stone its master, crying for revenge.

They were released when another cadre of avengers arrived, intent on freeing their brethren. Their words and prayers pierced the shadows of this place and finally persuaded the spirits to seek rest. In doing so, finally, the maddening cries of the dead stopped completely.

And then one day two visitors asked the dragon, trapped as he was, how he came to be here, and he began the recounting of a very long, sordid story, that lacked any descriptive battle scenes, much to the chagrin of their inner warriors.

The dragon now hopes to be freed from the Forest and roam the planes, seeking to sate his never-ending curiosity that was born from his slumber.