Zordrak closed his journal and locked it away. It was the only item left in his possession since he had fled from Zerapa, everything else that he had with him before the meeting was either left behind or lost during his pursuit by the Drows. His journal was the one item most dear to him and it never left his side. He kept it in a magic box which he crafted especially out of Nia Tathar in order to keep it safe. It could withstand any punishment including being thrown onto an open flame or dragged through the Dead Sea. Not even dust could penetrate its surface, thus the book had maintained its original condition for many a year.
"How could my Lord think that the Drows would even consider making peace with the Elves?" He muttered to himself.
Suddenly he caught out the corner of his eye something run into the bushes a few yards away. Food!
He snatched up his makeshift spear and launched it in its direction. The spear pierced through the bushes and a dying hiss was heard, he had caught his prey first try. Even if he had missed, Zordrak was so hungry he would chase the creature across the entire island until it was cooking over a campfire. He crawled up to the fallen prey like a starved predator and gazed upon it with awe. "Tonight we shall have lizard for supper!" He said while licking his dry lips.
After devouring the delicious reptile and a few hours rest Zordrak got out his journal, skipped to the back pages and pulled out a map of Urak which he had produced himself and updated over and over throughout his travels. As he studied it he found that if he headed off the western coast he would eventually reach Artalia, the only safe haven north of Urak. There he would visit his good friend Balathustrius, get himself mended and well fed, then receive a ride home.
"‘Seek out the wizard!' They always say!" Zordrak laughed at the thought that he was about to follow the advice of even the least educated Urakian. Tomorrow he would head west and build a raft.

It took Zordrak many a trial and error to build a raft stable enough to float. His last attempt proved almost fatal. He had rowed a good half mile out to sea when one of the vines came loose and the whole thing fell apart from under him. He had to dive to the seabed a few times in order to salvage the timber and bring it back to shore for reconstruction. Trees were very few on the island so he could not spare any.
The Dead Sea was just like its title. There was not a fish in sight and the water was dead still. Zordrak had only to build a raft that could hold together long enough to reach the Artalian Coast. Thankfully there were no other obstacles that he would have to face.
However, simply building a raft proved very difficult with the few resources provided by the island. Many of the trees he cut down were brittle. One chop from his axe into the bark of one tree revealed a family of wood worms that poured from it like a litre of pus from an infected wound. The ten logs that sunk were the strongest of the pile.
After six hours of swimming back and forth recovering all ten logs and vines Zordrak dragged the last of them to the shore and collapsed from exhaustion. He slept the rest of the evening and most of the next day. When he woke up he snatched up his spear and set out to hunt for what would hopefully be his final meal on the island.
He returned to the shore with three rats in one hand and a bunch of roots in the other. As he cooked the rats and ate the dirt-tasting roots a seagull perched on top of the pile of logs beside him. Zordrak's eyes lit up with hope for seagulls made some of the best messengers in all of Urak. It must have been searching for him for King Thurgaos after he learned what happened at Zerapa.
He let the bird hop onto his hand, held it close to his lips and whispered in its ear. The seagull spread its wings and fluttered away. Zordrak wouldn't be needing the raft after all despite the torture he went through to try ad build one. But that was all forgotten now. He slept easy that night and dreamt of his warm home in Talora.
The next morning he was awaken by the loud beating of wings. He stared into the sky and saw a Roc had come for him all the way from the White Cliffs of Isytal. It landed nearby and lowered its body so that Zordrak could hop onto it. Once he was on the great bird it beat its wings and flew west for Artalia. Zordrak still wished to seek the counsel of the Wise One about his discovery before reporting to his lord.