Dot this and delete your post when you can. Once we get the details worked out, I'll post our intro.
14 Patchwall – 595 CY – Freeday – 10am
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It’s a dreary, drizzly trudge through muddy ground as you make your way out of town. It’s almost as if Diamond Lake, knowing you are leaving, does everything it can to keep you as miserable as possible. The weather can’t seem to make up its mind either. Is it ever going to storm or will it stay just like this, on the cusp, all day? The sporadic gusts of wind don’t help clarify matters.
The traveling companions make up a pretty unlikely bunch. The half-orc scout isn’t so out of place, and the two miners make some sense with their experience in dark places. But how a crazy whore convinced the others to let her tag along and then showed up with a Jasian out-of-towner… well, nobody is really all that comfortable with the situation. Least of all, the Jasian.
The two-hour trek leads through muddy hills and valleys to the north-east of town. You’re traveling away from the marsh, but it sure doesn’t seem like it, the way your boots look. At first Kael seems confident at your direction, but as you get further from town, the terrain starts to get rough and unfamiliar. Near the end of your journey, the scout leads you up hill after hill in search of the valley that holds the hidden Cairn.
Eventually… finally, you crest one last hill and find yourself staring down at the yawning face of the Whispering Cairn. A wide, monolith-lined portal partially obscured by underbrush and boulders, it looks rather… uninviting.
Percival is fairly talkative on the journey out, he seems quite excited. His sablewood spear leaning casually against a laden pack, his long cloak swaying from side to side with each step, his boots becoming caked with mud, no one can deny that he's out on an adventure. I wonder what we'll find, I've never been inside an old Cairn before.
As they settle into the journey, Percival keeps his eyes up at first, trying to focus on his immediate surroundings and keep his mind from wandering. He looks up at the sky frequently, hoping it doesn't rain. There's something beautiful about the rain, something so wonderful that it can make any bad day good. But not today, today I wish the sky were brighter and cheerier. It's one thing to look out and see the dewdrops from your window, or catch them in your hand, but another thing entirely to have to trudge through the mud with a pack full of damp food and disintegrated chalk. Eventually, Percival's pack begins to feel quite heavy, but he soldiers on, eager to prove that he's tough enough for anything. Percival makes no negative comments about Kael's difficulty finding the place, not wanting to complain about anything.
Finally, they arrive.
Percival stands still before the mouth of the cave for a moment, then bravely walks right up to the mouth and looks in. Well, I suppose there's only one way to go, eh? Percival hefts his spear one handed high into the air, a silent show of force. Shall I lead the way?
Chaetris squints into the morning glare. Even with the gloom there is more sunlight today than her eyes are used to. "Someone's probably gotten there before us. All these crypts have all been picked clean years ago. What're the chances you found a new one?"
Her thin form gliding over the muddy path. She stops frequently to catch her breath, then hurries to catch up. "Even if it may be a fools errand, it is better than being down in that pit with all the Dwarves. Thank you for bringing me along Percy."
As they finally draw aside the brambles covering the entrance to peer inside, Chaetris carefully examines their path for signs of previous entry. "Let's leave this here for now. This is our find. If there's anything worth hauling out of here we can clear it then. For now, this place is ours, let's not make it too easy for anyone to follow."
You have no idea if this might be the same cairn or not.
Kael leads the way towards the cairn, shifting through the rough terrain with the ambling gait of a practiced forester. One look at hus assembled gear demonstrates how serious he takes this venture: even for a day-long outing he carries a variety of survival gear and he's almost literally armed to the teeth. The rain and gloom do little to deter him, though he does take care that his journal and the map are safe and dry within his packs. Lirr, this won't make for much of a story later if our map gets ruined before we reach our destination... Mind telling Obad-Hai to knock things off a bit? For at least a couple hours?
The half-orc engages with Percival at first, sharing in a few jokes and lighthearted comments in his thick, booming voice while the group is close to town. After all, it was infrequent to find people in the area willing to look past their prejudice of his upbringing, and it beat an akward silence with this strange bunch. The deeper the party gets, however, his responses grow infrequent as he tries to concentrate on leading this rag-tag afair, his superior senses little good at parting the rain... or listening over a garolous companion. He takes it as a minor blessing when he finally finds what appears to the object of their search.
Listening to his companion's appraisal of the entrance, he adds his agreement to Chaetris. "I agree. Let's leave this as our secret for now; we can clear things back only if we need to." He thinks a moment, and adds in, "Speaking of clearing, as much as I'm eager to get out of the rain, I remember there might be an abandoned mining office near here. I don't entirely trust this weather; it might be useful to clear out a shelter before we're half exhausted from clearing rubble in the cairn and half of us are staggering blind in the dark. Unless anyone wants to chance sleeping in bat guano or a bear den. Or worse." The last he throws in nonchalantly, his large shoulders shrugging under his battle-tested scale-mail.
Pythia sets out for the Whispering Cairn with a manic smile and boundless enthusiasm. She smiles into the rain, and seems cheered by the mud. Despite her frazzled air Pythia seems well-prepared for the trip. She wears studded leather armour and carries a wooden shield on her arm--both of which are covered in strange symbols and markings that have been scratched, carved and painted all over them. A morningstar and multiple daggers hang from her belt and she wears a cestus on one hand. Her backpack seems full at first, but judging from the bits of paper sticking out of it you can't be sure if it's filled with gear or more of Pythia's scribbled notes and sigils. Ugly, irregular scars peek out from under her armour, bits of the symbols she's always writing.
She smiles and laughs at Kael's jokes. When the others fall silent, tense in the dreary rain and mud, she doesn't. Her smile weathers the storm.
I wonder what we'll find, I've never been inside an old Cairn before.
"Destiny, Percival!" Pythia replies with a smile. "We'll find what we are meant to find. You'll see. It's all coming together now."
At the sight of the entrance Pythia smiles widely and claps her hands in excitement. "Yes! Yes! Keep it a secret." she agrees. "We can clear it out in time."
Pythia laughs at Kael's worry that they sleep in a bear den. "I will sleep wherever I'm meant to, Kael! But, yes. If you think we should go to the mining office, then lead the way. I'm not the only one meant to be here. So are all of you."
"Someone's probably gotten there before us. All these crypts have all been picked clean years ago. What're the chances you found a new one?"
"Probably pretty low...but even if it has already been cleared out there's a decent chance that it's been filled up again." Percival takes care not to use his spear as a walking stick, not wanting it to show signs of wear.
"Destiny, Percival!"
Percival chuckles good naturedly at this, trying to avoid being offensive,
"We'll find what we are meant to find. You'll see. It's all coming together now."
Well, whatever we find, I hope we're able to deal with it. Percival doesn't seem particularly confident. He chuckles, this uh...isn't the worst decision I've ever made, actually. We'll be fine. He seems to have successfully convinced himself.
"Even if it may be a fools errand, it is better than being down in that pit with all the Dwarves. Thank you for bringing me along Percy."
"You're welcome Chaetris," Percival says, looking slightly unsure of himself, "of course I invited you to tag along." He pauses again, adjusting the way his pack sits on his shoulders. "You're uh...helpful," Percival says awkwardly, but genuinely.
Percival allows himself to believe Pythia's words. He follows Kael to the mining office, still rather talkative. I remember there were some kids who kept camping out here. It started when I was about ten, you'd probably remember a bit better, Chaetris. At first they'd just run up and look, then they'd start sleeping nearer and nearer, until eventually it became a ritual. I never did that, I was a bit skittish at first. If I'd been just a couple years older, though, I'd've led the way...actually, I made moonshine not that far from here a couple times. Percival looks at you straight faced for a second, anyway, they stopped when a girl went missing. So it's reasonably likely that there are some dangerous things in there, although she might have just gotten lost or something.
The Jasian priestess was out of her element, and out of sorts.
She wore a traveler's mantle with an ermine collar and carried a red parasol to ward off the rain, but that was as prepared as she seemed to be. Her clothes would have been better suited for taking breakfast with some noble than delving into an old crypt. Her clothes were worth more than most miners saw in a year. Her high-necked dress bore a silver brooch right at the throat depicting the skull and flames of Wee Jas. Her dainty boots were heeled and decorated with lace. She carried no weapons and wore no armor.
She was not prepared for this.
She bore her discomfort well though. Her air of poise and dignity was not rumpled by the wind or rain, and her clothing managed to stay entirely unsullied by mud, as if by magic.
She gave a faint smile when the entrance to the cairn came into view. "Thank you, Pythia. I am not sure I could have managed to get here on my own."
The experience of finding the old mine proves to be surprisingly efficient. Its location becomes obvious as Kael finds the long-overgrown road that leads up to it and only 10 minutes from the Whispering Cairn, you spot it. It’s definitely a lot easier to find things on hills than it is things in valleys.
You could spend days cleaning this place up before it could be called anything close to habitable. Instead, satisfied that there are no current occupants, you opt to spend a few minutes cleaning out an area to store your gear and then move on back to the Cairn.
14 Patchwall – 595 CY – Freeday – 11am
The outside of the Cairn is much like you left it. You check your gear one last time and satisfied that you’re as ready as you’ll ever be, you climb through the rubble and underbrush into the Cairn proper.
Natural light dimly illuminates a long hallway extending north into darkness. A faint breeze brings with it sibilant whispers that sound almost like sighing breath. It must be a trick of the wind, but the effect is almost lifelike.
The walls bear horizontal bands of deceptively simple geometric patterns at waist level. In places the bands reveal startling detail, but in others the walls look as though they have been hacked apart with weapons or eroded by the rigors of time. Flakes of ancient paint, brilliant purple and a dull mustard hue, still cling to the walls in places, hinting at what must once have been a riot of color. A thin coat of dust coats the floor.
Just inside the darkened tomb, the hallway branches into shallow alcoves to the east and west. Here the walls bear the most significant damage. Dozens of clumsy etchings mar the beautiful ancient masonry like graffiti on a city wall. A clump of soiled cloth about the size of a halfling rests in the rounded terminus of the western alcove.
Outside, the wind picks up, and a chorus of almost human sounds rises from the darkened hall.
See that green light Percival indicates with a finger, maybe someone should light that up, I'd like to see what it is.
Looking down the dark corridor, the flickering green light is probably more than a hundred feet away. You'll have to get a bit closer.
When Percival points out the light, you see that it flickers and dims, but after a few seconds, it's stronger again. If you watch it for a few more seconds, you notice that it has a consistent pattern.
Chaetris marvels at the worked stone. An awed whisper escapes her lips. "Wow! We never put this much work into the shafts. The foremen would flay us." She reaches out an caresses the carvings as they walk slowly forward into the tomb.
She approaches the corner and carefully looks down both alcoves. Sturdy work, but it pays to be careful. She stops and looks up to examine the roof as well.
"You're welcome, Cerise," Pythia replies to her thanks with a comforting, confident smile.
---
"What a sweet little home," Pythia coos at the sight of the dilapidated, half-collapsed mining office. "It looked so nice new..."
Suddenly, her smile collapses and she hurries off to the half-broken ring of stones surrounding the house. She runs her hands along the bricks and cracks, examining it closely, her face mere centimetres from it's wet surface.
"Is this it? she mutters to herself. "No, here? How about.. like this?" she squirms and twists around, viewing it from different angles as if she expects to find something hidden in between the stones. Eventually she pops up, muddy and wet. "Not here," she mutters.
Pythia wanders up to the house, examining the cracks in the broken windows, the rough stone, the grain of the wooden door and the patterns in the vines. "No. No. No, no!" she mutters, getting louder and more frantic. "Not here... It's not here."
Suddenly she freezes, looks around confused and wanders into the house. She walks through the rooms calmly, with a melancholy smile, pausing a minute to watch the dust motes dance in the shafts of light coming in through the windows.
"Beautiful," she remarks to no one in particular.
She joins the others in clearing out a room to store their extra goods and equipment, then adjusts her pack, ready and excited to be on their way.
---
Pythia's frazzled hair and clothes get tangled in the brush and rubble as she pushes her way into the cairn, but it bothers her little. By the time she's standing inside the cairn she's dripping wet, her clothes are muddy and bits of rock dust and twigs are tangled in her curly, damp hair. She doesn't seem bothered in the least. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement and her smile's wide.
Pythia closes her eyes and listens to the breeze. She smiles brighter. "He's calling..." she whispers into the darkness.
Pythia opens her eyes and runs a hand along the detailed carvings along the walls. "I know this," she says. She digs around in her bag and rifles through a pile of papers, eventually pulling out a few sheets. She stares at the walls, moving her papers this way and that in an attempt to line them up. Eventually she manages, her scribbled, frantic drawings seem relatively aligned with a patch of carvings on the walls.
She dances around in excitement. "I'm here! she proclaims excitedly. "We're here! I'm on my way."
Resisting the urge to copy down everything around her, Pythia places her papers back into her bag. She throws her backpack over her shoulder and peers into the darkness.
"Fascinating," she breathes at the sight of the green light.
Pythia smiles at the sight of Chaetris running her hands along the carvings as she walks. "It's amazing," she agrees. "Better than I imagined it would be."
Pythia mutters some strange words under her breath, then blows on her shield, causing it to glow brightly, illuminating the darkness in front of her.
Pythia moves into the east alcove, looking for anything of interest.
Striding forward with his greatsword raised and at the ready, Kael surveys the entrance of the cairn, noting the tracks that cross over the debris.
The half-orc speaks up, just loud enough to be heard. "Scratch bears from this list; this is a wolf den from the looks of things. I would guess there's a full pack, maybe half-dozen strong, likely nearby, and I imagine they won't be too appreciative of our intrusion." he cocks his head to the side to listen more intently. A pack of wolves, cornered and in close confines means someone is getting hamstrung, at best
He winces when Pythia gives her excited outburst. "Shh. Clearly we're not the only living things around and this place is less deserted than we were lead to believe. Strange glowing light patterns don't usually create themselves." The half-orc isn't pleased by the growing noise at all, glancing that way warily, though still taking a thorough examination of the floor ahead of him for any traps.
Taking point ahead of his companions, he takes a momment to slowly shift the bundle of cloth at the tip of his sword. What could this be?
You can feel the faintest touch of wind, like the whisper of a feather on your hand.
Otherwise, the alcoves and ceiling don't appear to have anything hidden or unexpected.
You don't see anything of value.
"Wolves. Wonderful." Cerise deadpanned, shaking the water off her parasol and closing it up. In contrast to Pythia, Cerise seemed to be getting cleaner by the moment. Within a minute she was completely dry and spotless. "Pythia, dear, perhaps we should let mister Kael and Miss Chaetris check the corridors for safety before we venture down them ourselves? They have experience in such things. Come back, please."
She made a gesture with her umbrella and a wave of almost imperceptible sparks traveled down her body and vanished.
"Interesting," Pythia remarks at news of the wolves. Then she lowers her voice as Kael requested.
Pythia smiles at Cerise's worry. "I am not afraid of a fight." She says quietly as she readies her morningstar. "Buuuut, I suppose traps might hurt."
Pythia waits back obligingly until Kael's done looking around, then she moves into the west alcove and looks around herself.
Wolves? Percival follows after Kael, letting the others catch up. I would say that we don't have anything to fear, since wolves are afraid of us, but if we're cornering them...well, I suppose we'll just have to cut them down.
Percival slows and turns back to the others, sizing them up. We should probably try to keep some sort of formation so they can't flank us. I don't know how comfortable you all are with being bitten, so I can't say what that should be. I'll stay at the front, however, since I've got the longest weapon. If they try to swarm me, I'll step back.
You walk another sixty feet north into the Cairn before coming to a crossroad.
The western hall extends perhaps forty feet, ending at a small marble platform raised about six inches off the floor. A strange, shattered arcane apparatus rests upon this platform, its curved ovular frame giving the appearance of a noble's dressing mirror. Only a third of this frame remains. An unusual arcane glyph about the size of a man's head has been delicately carved into the baseplate of the support platform.
Fifteen feet down the east passage, a huge pile of collapsed rubble blocks the alcove from top to bottom. It looks like it would take weeks to tunnel through the densely packed debris.
Cerise moved at the rear of the group, her heels clicking on the stone. She eyed the broken arc on the short pedestal carefully, her eyes glowing slightly.
As they work their way down the corridor Chaetris stops to check the bundle in the western alcove.
Continuing to inspect their surroundings, she stares at the pedestal wracking her mind for the meaning of the arcane symbol.
---
"Oh!" Pythia exclaims. "Look at this, Kael!" she hurries up to the arcane apparatus an the strange glyph there. "It's similar in style to our markings!"
Excitedly, she digs through her backpack and pulls out of few papers filled with similar markings--one of which is covered with Kael's mark.
Percival looks at the strange glyphs, his interest obviously piqued. He compares it to Pythia's markings for a moment, then steps back.
He looks at Pythia with new eyes now, as though she's one of the most impressive people he's ever seen. You belong here, he says quietly.
Percival moves to stand at the edge of the western wing, now significantly closer to Pythia than he was before, and now fully within the torchlight.
Percival moves to enact his plan.
Kael stops dead in his tracks as he stares at the strange iconography, as if it was a coiled viper ready to strike. The stone sign formed of geometric lines almost looks like it could have been carved by the same artist that drew his own tattoo. With a conscious effort he resists rubbing his right arm, clenching his his fist tightly. How could something like this be here? What does it mean, after all this time...
He barely flicks his eyes over to Pythia's drawing before he sighs and speaks up, all traces of is jovial tone gone from his deep voice. "Pythia, I would appreciate it if you would please put that away." He glances over at his companions, seeking how they might be reacting to the exchange. And then just like that, his lips split in a broad, tusked grin. "Can anyone tell how old that is, or recognize it in any way?"
When all information that could be gained from the strange stonework has been exhausted, he turns down the hall, wondering what other strange events might unfold. No matter what, though, this was no longer just a simple exploration.
Pythia smiles at Percival. "I know. And so do you." she says seriously. "I've seen it."
Then she goes back to studying the strange device.
---
After she's learned all the can from the apparatus, Pythia examines the alcove it's in.
---
When we eventually are ready to move on, Pythia happily obliges Percival. She takes the stone in her hand, rolls it back and forth between her hands and then brings it to her lips and blows on it. As she blows the shield on her arm goes dark and the stone in her hands glows brightly. Then she passes the lit stone to Percival.
Pythia looks absorbed in her work, comparing symbols and sigils frantically. Eventually she listens to Kael and puts her papers away.
Pythia's exclamation echoes around the hall, seemingly picked up by the rising chorus of 'voices' in the chamber as the wind picks up outside. The distant crack of thunder from outside peels ominously down the chamber and is repeated back from deep within, accompanied by the patter of swift feet and a low growl.
Wolves!
Suddenly Pythia clutches her head. Her eyelids flutter rapidly. As the howls sound she mutters, "They're coooooming," in a sing-song voice.
Pythia staggers closer to the battle, ensuring her glowing shield lights the battlefield for everyone. Morningstar in hand, she stands ready to fight the oncoming wolves.
As the emaciated canines come into view Chaetris calls out. "There are four of them! The Alpha's still coming."
Three ragged-looking wolves enter Pythia's light. They look malnourished and weak. Seeing the plentiful food in front of them, they rush toward Pythia and nip at her feet, attempting to drag her down.
From the darkness behind the ragged wolves, a beast lopes casually into the light. This wolf is and it looks to be extremely well-fed. The alpha wolf seems to consider for a second before approaching Cerise with what could only be described as a grin, a low growl escaping its throat.
Cerise gestured toward the large wolf that rushed her and let loose with a torrent of fire from her gloved hand.
Then she stepped back to clear some space so the people with actual weapons could fend off the ugly beast.
Chaetris steps forward sliding her rapier from its sheath in a smooth flowing motion. Her movements continue as the shining tip of her weapon advances toward the alpha wolf.
Distracted by Cerise' flames, her blade fails to find its mark.
At the sound of approaching hostiles, Kael moves forward, shouting, "Pythia! Withdraw back; we'll provide cover!" as he brings his greatsword in a flashing arc at the Alpha.
Showing his teeth and adopting a ready stance, he growls at the canine, "Mangy curr, focus on someone with a bit more meat on their bones!" Hopefully said meat stays on said bones.
Percival's lips curl into a smile, which breaks into a wicked grin, teeth glittering white. He lowers his glaive and charges the alpha, letting out a grunt as he lunges.
No longer wracked by visions, Pythia cautiously moves over, at Kael's request, and swings her morningstar at the wolf remaining within her reach.
Completely missing! Her swing goes wide.
Cerise's spell sears at the flesh and fur of the malnourished wolf, only its desperate hunger keeping it from fleeing. The Alpha wolf is barely singed.
The rest of the party fares worse as every weapon attack swings wide...
All four wolves respond to Kael's taunt, surrounding him and nipping at his feet and legs with their pack tactics. The Alpha wolf takes a good bite out of Kael's shin, trying to wrench him down but the half-orc grits his teeth and stays up.
Pythia concentrates on her shield hand, causing it to glow dimly with a warm energy. She reaches out and touches Kael's shoulder.
"It's not your time, yet." she tells him certainly.
A feeling of warmth and confidence poses through Kael's body as his wounds heal.
Fully healing Kael.
Chaetris again sweeps the tip of her blade toward the large wolf.
The sharp point finds its mark and sinks into the alpha wolf's flank.
Have to end this fast... Grimacing at the blow, Kael makes a quick step to flank, then a brings his arms down in a wild swing at the alpha wolf.
"I swear... zombies... were less lively."
Percival drops his glaive and whips out the longsword at his side, tipping it forward in a descending cut at the wolf. Once again, he grunts quite loudly and deliberately. He doesn't really seem to be breathing very much, or at all.
Cerise looked relieved when the big wolf went down. She made a small gesture at the least injured of the remaining wolves.
The voracious little wolf snaps at Pythea as she casts her spell, biting her hard on her ankle, but not breaking her clothing. She manages to finish her spell while maintaining her balance on her other foot. The half-orc looks as healthy as ever.
While Kael misses his attack, hounded as he is by the smaller wolves, Chaetris and Percival deliver a pair of vicious blows. The beast collapses to the ground.
Seeing the big wolf go down, Cerise casts an enchantment upon one of the small wolves, but its desperate hunger overpowers the spell.
The three remaining wolves follow the meaty, delicious-looking half-orc, trying still to bring him down, but their malnourished weakness is evident as he easily fends them off.
Standing her ground, Chaetris fights beside the burly half-orc. She whips her blooded rapier at the singed wolf before her. Once again the blade sinks in, landing a firm hit.
"It's not any of our time. We can do this, don't let them scare you."
Percival puts a hand on the now dead wolf and gently pushes it back, extracting his sword easily. He breathes a heavy sigh as it falls, then begins to pant. He jogs around Pythia, keeping out of range of the wolf should it turn away from Kael, and arrives on the other side of it from Kael. He then throws his shoulders into a heavy blow with his longsword.
Yeah we'll be alright, now that the big one's down, Percival calls back to Chaetris.