Tartum’s curiosity begged him to investigate the mountains as soon as possible. He wanted to be the first human to learn the secrets of dwarven magic! This runic magic sounded alot like his enchantments, only better. If he could enchant his staff with these runes, there was no telling what he could do. Tartum made a mental note to pay the mountains a visit one day. He wanted to see what an undergorund civilization looked like and observe this runic magic for himself.
...
After the mountains had disappeared over the horizon, they came upon a lake so vast Tartum confused it for the ocean. Isidor corrected his misjudgement and told him it was the Great Lake Nalurn. Legend had it that Nalurn was once the largest forest in the world, inhabited by incredible creatures of lore.
One day there was an earthquake that caused an immense pocket of natural gas under the forest to ignite. The explosion caused dirt, vegatation, and dead fauna to rain down over the continent for three days and nights. The smoke and fire lasted the better part of a year. When the air finally cleared and the fires had gone out, there was nothing. Only an incredible crater that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Some adventurers explored the hole, hoping to uncover treasures and glory, rumored to be in the bowels of the crater. None were ever heard from again. Whatever was down there wanted to be left alone, and after hundreds of adventurers were lost in the depths of the crater, people started to avoid the place. Over the decades, rain water slowly filled the crater and it became known as the Great Lake Nalurn.
The fishing was plentiful, and one couldn’t find water fresher anywhere on the continent. It was as though a paradise had been planted in the hole left by the blast, and now people could thrive, where once there had been devastation. The port city of Friia was founded on the lake, and became a bustling trade city. It was the humans that lived in Friia, that were the first to show signs that something was amiss. Those that ate, drank, and bathed in Lake Nalurn most of their lives, were the most affected. The original generation that founded the city suffered no ill effects. Their children were the ones that started showing signs of mutation.
At first, the people just thought a few babies had been born with defects, and they were summarily destroyed. Gradually, as more and more babies were born with gills, scales, and webbed feet, they began to realize there was something wrong. Panic rang supreme in the city of Friia. Every conspiracy imaginable was thought up to explain why the new borns were so mutated and deformed. The ruling families at the time cast blame on everyone, and things quickly became violent in the city. Rioting was inevitable and things spiraled out of control.
The mayor of Friia was a good man and wanted to bring an answer to his people, why their bustling paradise was suddenly cursed. He also wanted the skirmishes to stop in his streets, as one faction accused another of being the cause of the epidemic. The panic being generated by the population of Friia threatened to destroy it. The mayor hired a powerful caster and her friends, to discover the true reason behind of the plight besieging his city. They took their job seriously, and after some research, they came to the conclusion that something in the water of Lake Nalurn was the cause.
The hired caster used a spell, which surrounded the party in a magic bubble that allowed them to breathe underwater. They searched for weeks and never saw the opposite bank of the lake. They decided to search the depths of the lake and decended its many miles down into the darkness. What they found has never been fully described, because only one member of the party ever returned. He was found on the shore just outside Friia, half-drowned and mad with sorrow. The tale he told was as terrifying to the citizens of Friia as all the conspiracy theories combined.
There was a material in the bottom of the lake that was releasing something into the water. They tried to destroy it but, their attacks caused the object to lash out and burst the magic bubble that protected them. The survivor explained that the material under the lake had to be the source of the mutations and must be evil. Unfortunately, the survivor didn’t keep his “survivor” status long, for after he told his vague story, death took him.
There was a mass exodus from Friia then, as news of the man’s story spread. Those that stayed behind were either desperate, or had no where else to go. Those left, accepted their fate and went about business as usual. They stopped the barbaric custom of culling the babies born to families that were deformed, and instead cultivated and encouraged the mutation. Generations later, the people living there could no longer be described as human. They were renamed Friians the half-human, half-fish species.
They could survive on land as well as in the water, although they were more at home in the water, and kept all their human mental traits like emotions and intelligence. They had scales instead of flesh, and they had gills that lined their neck. Their eyes took up a large portion of their head and could move independantly of each other. Their teeth became smaller and sharper and their fingers blended into a flipper. They still had their thumbs, and were able to grasp tools into order to continue advancing their society. Their scales were the colors of the many fish commonly found in the fresh water lake. Browns, greens, and blues colored their scales and helped them blend into their surroundings when swimming under water. Males generally had darker scales, while the women had lighter. It was the only way an outsider could tell the difference between male and female, as their reproductive organs took on the traits of their amphibian cousins.
The younger generations of Friians took to coloring in their scales with a form of tattooing, and so it wasn’t uncommon for the smaller Friians to be brightly colored, with rich reds and yellows flaring out of their scales. Later generations took to using the art, as a way to place designs across their scales. The trend became popular with future generations, and now the ritual of tattooing their scales was almost religious in nature. Entire temples were built, in order to perpetuate tattoos, for everything from denoting rank and social status, to blessing a marriage or a birth.
Friians were a peaceful people. Most of the world had forgotten all about the city of Friia after the exodus, and it was considered a cursed lake for hundreds of years. Eventually, curious adventures, looking for fame and fourtune, braved what they thought to be an abandoned lake and re-discovered the legendary city. To their great surprise the city was flourishing! The first meetings between Friian and human were peaceful and went very well. Open trade soon began between the races, and the wealth and peace between them had never been seen on the continent before. It was not to last.
An illness ravaged the Friians and culled almost half their population in a little under a decade. The disease was terrible and caused the intestines of the infected to liquify, over the course of a few months. The agony inflicted on the infected was extraodinary, and usually the patient would die from shock and pain before the disease could fully run its course. The plague was named the Screaming Rot, due to its nature, and is still something that the Friians refuse to discuss.
The Friians begged the humans to send their healers and their wisest elders to aid them in finding a cure. At first, the humans rushed to their allies’ aid. Everyone from the devoutly religious, to the oldest druids, to those trying to hawk miracle cures, came to Friia, all promising to cure the Screaming Rot. As the illnesses got worse and the death toll kept rising, there was still no cure in sight. The humans were disheartened by their inability to find a remedy, so after many tearful goodbyes and apologies, gave up and abandoned the Friians to their fate.
The Friians begged the humans not to give up on them and pleaded with them to continue seeking a cure. Their pleas fell on deaf ears as the humans turned their backs on their old friends. Some settlements even went so far as to bar their gates to Friian travelers, for fear that the plague they carried might infect the human race. The fate of the Friians looked very bleak.
The cure the Friian’s sought was found by one of their own, after he had finished burying his children that had just succumbed to the disease. He was heartbroken and defeated. His wife was sh
owing the first signs of having the disease, and he had little hope she would be spared the fate his children had suffered. Not able to face the reality of the situation, he dove into Lake Nalurn and swam down as far as he could, trying to outrun his sorrow. After swimming down into the depths of the lake for hours, exhaustion over came him, and he passed out. When he woke, he had no idea where he was or how far he had drifted. The water was murky and tasted of copper and oil. It wasn’t a comfortable environment to be in. He began to swim back up to the surface, when a yellow light caught his attention. His human curiostiy was still very strong, and he swam towards the source of the light.
He had no idea what the yellow glowing mass in front of him was, but the aura it radiated was soothing. It looked like a huge piece of yellow quartz and made him nervous when he gazed upon it. Despite its appearance, it took away his pain and his sorrow, it made him feel like everything was going to be ok. He remembered his wife, remembered her suffering when he left her in the pool just outside their home. He reached out to take a piece of the giant glowing substance, and when he did, he found it to be brittle and waxy. He only wanted a small piece so he could bring it to his wife to ease her suffering. If the substance was dangerous he didn’t care. His wife was dead anyway, and if this strange rock could ease her transition then she would have it, no matter the cost. He accidentally broke away the entire stalactite he was pulling at, and found himself holding a ten foot long piece of the yellow, waxy, substance. The glow didn’t diminish after being removed from the main body of the object, and neither did the calming aura it gave off. Clutching his prize to his body, he swam back to his wife as fast as he could.
Upon arriving at his home, he found his wife where he had left her. She was sleeping in the pool of their land home and was showing more signs of being infected with the Screaming Rot. As he came closer to her, holding the ten feet of calming rock, she awoke and was immediately transfixed on the item he held. When she touched it, she gasped as the yellow light from the stalactite surrounded her body. When it dissipated moments later, any sign she had been sick was gone, and she felt like she had just been reborn! Recognizing that this odd substance had the power to heal the disease that ravaged their people they went to their aid as fast as they could. Almost over night the Screaming Rot was cured, and the accidental hero was elevated amongst his people.
When humans found out the Friians were cured, they sent envoys with great speeches of congratulations and well wishes on their change of luck. The surviving Friians remembered the betrayal of their human allies and sent the envoys home. No longer did the Friians honor the old alliances between themselves and humans, and took to the lake of Nalurn, abandoning the city of Friia. They cut off their ties to the dry surface world and now almost exclusivly kept to their own in their underwater world. On rare occassion another race visited Nalurn and met a Friian. They usually weren’t very trusting of the intruder, and the encounter ended with the “landwalker” as they called the other races, dead or fleeing for their life. Occasionally, a young Friian ran away from his people and headed out into the world, looking to make their own way or hoping to find fame on the surface. No matter how fishlike the race became, their human curiosity was still strong in them, and it manifested the strongest in the adolescents of the race. Lithe and agile, especially in the water, they were usually found in the employ of rich aristocrats or royalty. It was considered very fashionable to have a Friian at your side, either as a bodyguard, escort, or an honored guest at most high society events. Those that subjected themselves to this form of human servitude were considered little more than whores to their people and were shunned because of it.
Tartum wondered at a race of half humans, that abandoned the world for the solitude of the water. He decided that when he was done visiting the dwarves, he would have to try and meet the race known as Friians. His curiostiy overrode the knowledge that the Friians probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Tartum decided he would look for a spell that would allow him to travel underwater like the caster from the story did. To unlock that secret, was almost more thrilling to him than unlocking the secrets to dwarven rune magic.
...
Tartum convinced Isidor to stop at Lake Nalurn. The only reason Isidor agreed was because he was still worried about denying Tartum anything. He had seen first hand, what could happen if someone stood in his way. He wasn’t sure if Tartum would attack him or not, but it was too great of a risk for him to risk it.
They found a good spot to make their camp just a few dozen yards away from the lake. Isidor warned Tartum to stay out of the water, just to be on the safe side. Tartum agreed without question. Apparently the old habit of following Isidor’s orders was ingrained enough to still hold some sway. Isidor wondered if Tartum knew how terrified of him he was. He wondered how much longer he could tolerate being near him. Isidor was beginning to realize his time with Tartum was coming to an end. He was saddened by this fact but knew it must be so. As he refilled their waterskins at the lake, he started to make his plans to part ways with Tartum when they arrived in Saroth.
His head was swimming with questions. How would he leave Tartum? Where? How would Tartum take it? Would he come after him? Did he tell him now? Could Tartum survive alone? Isidor was wracked with the guilt of his decision but knew he was making the right choice. If he stayed with Tartum, he was afraid that the magic he taught him would end up killing more people. Worst of all, Isidor was afraid that refusing to teach him anymore magic, or possibly running out of magic to teach him, would lead to his gruesome and painful death. The thought shook him to his core.
Parched from a long day of travel, Isidor took a drink from his waterskin. The cool water was refreshing and gave him the energy to take care of the horses. He fed and watered them before taking a seat next to the wagon. He took another drink from his waterskin. The water helped clear his thoughts and soothed his troubled mind. He knew then how he’d leave Tartum. He knew in his heart it was the right decision, and he knew Tartum would hate him for it, but in the end, they would both be better off. With a little luck, Tartum would give up on furthering his magical skills and find himself a trade or marry a rich merchant’s daughter. Isidor smiled at the idea of his friend marrying and settling down in Saroth. It was as good a city as any to live your life in. His mind made up, he looked over to where Tartum was. He was practicing with his staff not fifteen yards away.
He was amazing with his staff, and the martial dance he wove was breathtaking. Isidor couldn’t keep up with the movements, so he opened himself to the magic in order to heighten his senses so that he could. What he saw impressed him even more.
Tartum was channeling magic into himself, just as Isidor had. He used the raw magic to heighten his own senses and reflexes, the results of which made him much better than Isidor had ever been with the staff. As he watched his pupil go through his motions, tears sprang to his eyes. It occured to him that this was one of the last moments he would share with the boy he had raised to manhood. He was about to abandon his most precious possession to an uncaring world, and he knew it would probably mean he would never see him again. There would be no happy reunions, no visits, no weddings, or grandchildren to spoil. Isidor watched his pupil finish his exercise and go over to the lake to wash up. Apparently, the habit of obeying him was not as deeply instilled as he thought. Just one more sign to Isidor that their time together was at an end.
Taking another drink from his waterskin, Isidor got up and went inside the wagon to weep.
...
They had been traveling for almost a month, and things between Tartum and Isidor were civil at best. Isidor had spent much of the time in silence, only speaking to let Tartum know what lore he knew about the sights and landmarks they passed. He described the local flora and fauna to Tartum as they encountered it. Tartum saw a herd of large hairy animals at one point and almost shook Isidor out of his seat in his astonishment. Pointing at the animals, Isidor almost doubled over in his seat with laughter. The
animals heard his laughter and looked up. They looked rather stupid, and absently resumed their chewing on the dead trees that seemed to be their food source.
When Isidor could talk again, he explained that the animals were called Nissassa. An adult was usually around twenty feet long and close to six hundred pounds. They were the dominate scavengers of the world and fed on dead or dying plants and animals. Their heads were huge, easily making up half their body weight and about a third of their shaggy bodies. Their mouth was set low, and they used the weight of the top of their heads to help chew and crush whatever it was in their mouths. They could easily bite through a petrified tree in one mighty chomp, or chew through plate mail with ease. They didn’t have teeth like most animals did. Instead, one long row of serated emamel ran along their upper and lower jaw lines. Nature had designed them to clean up the decay of the wilderness, and they did this job very well. They had no arms or legs, but slithered around their environment like a snake. Their only apparent defense, other than their huge mouths, was their immensely thick hide. Isidor said that nissassa hide was used to make the fabric necessary for traveling blankets and other crude but highly durable fabrics. They moved surprisingly fast for their size, but Tartum still considered them slow, both in mobility and in mind. Isidor confirmed this observation, saying that at best, a Nissassa could move about as fast as a man could jog. They had few natural predators, however and thrived in the world.
None of this explained why Isidor started laughing so hard when he first pointed them out. When asked, Isidor only smiled and stopped the wagon fifty yards from the beasts. As they watched the shaggy animals devour the decaying foliage, Tartum noticed one of the animals developing a bulge in the center of its body. He pointed it out to Isidor, who smiled and pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth and told Tartum to just wait. Confused at his mentor’s odd behavior, Tartum watched as the bulge got bigger and bigger. Slowly, it made its way towards the back end of the beast’s body. When it was about a foot from the end, the bulge disappeared into the animal’s body, and a hissing sound eminated from it.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 Page 12