"Well, the thing about these cairns is that they were here before Diamond Lake. To the best of both mine and Allustan's knowledge, none of the people of Varisia created the cairns. They were here long before. I personally have no trouble with stomping around in a tomb, that may very well be empty at this point."
Vedic took the map and eyed it for a moment, then flipped to the front of his book where a number of loose leaf papers were tucked inside a flap. Pulling one out that looked rather map-like, he waved a hand over it. It became mostly transparent. Lining the two maps up, he attempted to find common landmarks on the two.
"No no no, the scale is off." another wave of his hand and the top map slowly shrunk until they more closely matched. He turned them and slid them around until suddenly his eyes lit up and he smiled like an excited child.
Handing the map hack and allowing his own to return to it's normal state, he nodded. "When do we leave?"
Vedic took the map and eyed it for a moment, then flipped to the front of his book where a number of loose leaf papers were tucked inside a flap. Pulling one out that looked rather map-like, he waved a hand over it. It became mostly transparent. Lining the two maps up, he attempted to find common landmarks on the two.
"No no no, the scale is off." another wave of his hand and the top map slowly shrunk until they more closely matched. He turned them and slid them around until suddenly his eyes lit up and he smiled like an excited child.
Handing the map hack and allowing his own to return to it's normal state, he nodded. "When do we leave?"
"Dead is dead. I have seen many Shoanti ashes scattered. This Whispering Home of Dead is not far. Can go and come back this day. Before others search out treasure." Ulfak looks upset and disappointed but he nods his agreement.
If I can see the skywing flying high then my vision is part of this. Otherwise the gold will make life better.
Derrick can't help but feel a shiver at the Shoanti woman's mentions of whispering dead, but he snorts it off. "Dead is dead," the young man says. "So they won't be whispering, and they don't need whatever's down there with them--not anymore." The thief looks down at the map, and taps his fingers as Vedic makes them fit together. "Should be easy. But I'll need some gold up front to buy gear, and I'm sure these folks would, too... Unless you happen to have all the proper equipment in your back room."
"I wish that were true, but you should know better," Valsaya says with a serious tone to Derrick and Ulfak. "Ours is a world filled with many strange and wondrous things, and unfortunately, many dangerous things as well. The dead do not always stay dead, and sometimes they do not part so easily with their belongings. We must be cautious," she says as she smooths a stray lock of hair back out of her face.
"However, as callous as our young friend here seems to be," giving Derrick a slightly dissaproving look with a raised eyebrow, "I'm afraid he's correct. We all seem to have fallen on some tough times recently, and entering some unknown cairn without some basic means to defend ourselves seems... unwise," she finishes, appearing a bit embarrassed.
"Moon clan do not have walking dead. Just ashes. No problem for us that you speak of. Shield, leathers and a good curved sword would help me. Tools too."
"Well, I wasn't about to let you go without proper equipment, of course. I have just the thing."
He heads to a back room and returns a few minutes later, pushing a cart. In the cart are five masterwork backpacks, three tents, and five bedrolls.
"Here, you are folks! All the gear you should need!"
Derrick quickly gets up and looks through some of the different packs. "Hm... These look interesting... As do these..." Calistria's soiled panties, this is probably worth almost half what he's paying us. The guy's serious, I guess.
Derrick does feel the need to voice a concern, though. "As much as this gear should help, I'm not seeing any weapons or armor. I don't know about these folks--"he gestures to the others--"but I'd feel a lot more comfortable with at least a knife on my belt."
Cindersnake examines the packs as well, not exactly putting her full trust in the hands of a tshamek until proved wrong. She nods her head at the contents then voices agreement with Derrick, "As the nervous one says, one should not go into danger with nothing more than harsh words to throw at your enemies. Even sturdy clubs would be better than naught." Her fists clench tight as the Shoanti woman growls in her throat at something remembered, "If some cursed thief hadn't robbed me blind soon after coming to this tshamek village, I would not need rely upon such charity and that I must makes me ashamed."
"Well, I'm not one to send you on a suicide mission, either. Ideally you won't need any weapons, but you never know. Better safe than sorry, my brother always says!"
He wheels the cart back and returns with a pile of armors, shields, and outfits.
"Now, they're not the best, but they should do. Also, I found an old closet with clothes that you might want to change into. It would make you look more official," he giggles. "As for weapons, I have those, too. I'll get them in a bit."
After everyone picks their armors and clothing outfits, he wheels his cart around and reveals a pile of weapons, from blades to bows, ready for the taking.
"Take what you like, honestly. The original owners won't be coming for them anymore," he laughs. As the weapons are divied up, Sal slips away into his office.
Ulfak picks up the scimitar, shield and takes the hide armour. He looks down to the bottom of the cart and his mouth forms an O, taken back to his past life and a much younger boy working in the small shoanti fields.
He lifts out the weapon carefully and swishes it back and forth away from the rest. "I will do this. Skywing is a bird but it was also my father's name for this when he worked at the crops."
It sang!
This weapon is the good sign that he looked for. Standing tall, the blade of the weapon cast a shadow over the druid. Some weapons fit. This one did. The scythe.
Ulfak smiled...
Valsaya discards her threadbare clothes, and replaces it with a simple cloth tunic and some leather britches. As she pulls the tunic down over her head, she regards Ulfak as he swishes the scythe about. I've never seen anyone get that excited about a farmer's implement before. Now anyway, let's see what we have here.
She selects a simple looking, banged up breastplate with worn leather straps hanging off its back. She takes her time to adjust them, then starts strapping it on to her chest. As an afterthought she takes one of the small dented bucklers from among the armor pile, and straps it to her left forearm.
Walking over to the weapons cart, she first pulls one of the long bows out and slings it over her back, along with a quiver of arrows. She glances down into the bottom of the cart, and after a careful look she pulls out a curved sword. She buckles the blade's sheath around her waist, just below the lower rim of the breastplate.
Wiping the dust off it and sighting down the blade, she murmers, "This will do nicely."
Valsaya then sheaths the scimitar as she blows a lock of hair out of her eyes from the corner of her mouth, and rests her hand on the hilt of the blade, while her other hand clutches the symbol hanging from her neck. She walks over to the window looking outside, and waits patiently for the others.
Valsaya looks over the dreary scene outside, as folk walk across the road, kicking up fine dust that shimmers in the afternoon sun. She's worried, but doesn't want the people around her to catch on to this. I've heard tales of some of the things that can dwell in these forgotten places of the world. Sarenrae's light, guide me.
She closes her eyes and lifts her head to the warm rays of the sun, whispering to herself, "Open your arms to the fire of the noon, and in its brilliance cast all shadows from your soul."
Derrick looks through the various armors and clothing, Removing some of the simpler pieces of boiled leather, he compares the armor to his own size. Damn... I'm a little short, thin... It'll be a little loose, I'll have to tighten them as much as possible... With a sigh, Derrick grabs the best-fitting armor pieces he can find. His face brightens, though, when he finds a long jacket with plenty of pockets... and even more on the inside. "A runner's coat! I've been looking for one of these for years..." Trying it on, he finds it to be a good fit, except for the length of the sleeves.
This is quickly remedied, though, when Sal carts out the weapons. Snatching a dagger, he sets to on the jacket, cutting the sleeves down until they're a little over wrist-length. "Good," he mutters, satisfied with his work. He slips the dagger and 4 more inside the coat's pockets, then belts a long, slender sword to his belt. He also picks up a starknife, and after judging its weight in his hand, he belts that to his other side.
"I think that should do well enough," he grins, knowing that what he's now wearing is worth more than anything he expected to acquire in his life.
Vedic puts his hand on Derrick's back and whispers something in an arcane tongue.
The leather seemed to get a bit heavier and sweat, then tighten and dry out. After about thirty seconds it flit like it was tailored to him.
"Oh, one last thing!"
Sal steps out of the office once more, a sack as large as his head in tow. He clambers up onto the table and sets the bag down.
"These are mostly for sentimental value nowadays and I can tell they've been wanting to get out. Who better to help them stretch their legs than you?"
Sal unties the bag and reaches down very deep. His arm seems to dig farther down than would be possible, as if he's reaching down past the table. After a moment of searching, he pulls out a fine, silver rapier. Its hilt is finely detailed with a scene of a dancing nymph.
"This used to belong to the previous Blackjack of Korvosa. He didn't really stick around long. He only dealt with Ileosa and her wicked ways and passed on the mantle. However, he left me with his blade. I figured you would make the most of it," he explains, handing it to Derrick.
"Now you, my fine Shoanti sir. I noticed you taking a liking to the scythe. I have just the thing for that. A wise shaman by the name of Thousand Bones once gave this to me, in his final moons." He draws a large scythe carved of the finest wood, with a blade that looks like it could cut any auroch. "He didn't use it much in his final years so he presented it to me as a gift. I feel that no person is better suited to it than you." He hands it to Ulfak.
He begins to dig through his sack a bit more. "Speaking of Shoanti, you m'lady appear to be as fierce as they come. I think you may find this very suiting." He pulls out an earthbreaker carved of bone, stained with years of blood and viscero. It's pale, crimson coloring gives it an almost haunting appearance. He struggles a bit as he hands it to Nitavesha. "It belonged to a young man of your tribe by the name of Krojun Eats-What-He-Kills. It served him well in battle and may it do the same for you."
"Lady of the Dawn," he yells out to Valsaya, motioning her over. "I once visited Katapesh and met a retired Dervish who gave me his blessing and his blade as thanks for saving his life. I think you should have it," he says as he begins to imitate an older man, "so the light of the dawn may shine through you." He laughs a bit as a he hands her a beautiful scimitar made of rose gold.
"And you, my magical friend," he motions to Vedic, "get the piece that is closest to me. It once belonged to my old master. He was quite the marvel. His words could change the world and his magic wasn't half bad either," he chortles. He hands him a small, admantine rod inscribed with markings and runes. "It should do your magic very well."
"Please treat them well and they will treat you better. Now, be off! You have a cairn to scour!" He shooed them away as he returned to his office with a smile. "And remember to let Allustan or myself know what you find!"
Vedic's eyes go wide as he takes the rod and decyphers the meanings of the runes.
"Thank you. Wow. I... Thank you."
"Then this is Skywing for now. I shall keep it safe until my return and can give the gift back."
Ulfak hands back the poorly made peasant weapon and takes the balanced blade. "I like your sack. Are we ready to go. No healing drinks in there? Good, I go outside to practise with Skywing."
The shaman clears a path to the doorway.
Cindersnake grunts at the state of repair on some of the items in the pile before pulling out a slightly battered but still servicable breastplate. She struggles with one of the straps for a moment but is finally able to properly wear it. She fishes out a few weapons to complete her outfitting as she watches the others find their own gear.
When Sal comes back out with another bag of items, the Shoanti woman's mouth drops open in surprise as he drags out an earthbreaker that she personally knew. Stories were told about Krojan-Eats-What-He-Kills around the quah to this day. Few warriors of Sklar-Quah reached the level of noteriety that Krojan had obtained. She lifted the heavy hammer from the gnome's tiny hands as if it weighted no more than a dagger. The grip felt right in her hands as no other weapon had ever felt as Cindersnake suddenly lifted the earthbreaker above her, titled back her head and let loose with a blood-curdling war scream in celebration. After a few moments, she lowers the hammer until its head hits the floor with a heavy thump that sets the floorboards tremoring, "Salomon of Diamond Lake, you have gifted me with the finest weapon I have ever known. You have my pledge that it shall not go to waste. Many more enemies shall be smote by this great weapon."
Derrick stiffens as the elf touches the armor, speaks, and the leather begins to grow damp. What the-- The thief looks down, and even as he starts to curse, the water begins to leave the material, leaving it perfectly fitted to his body. Blinking, he moves his joints in small movements, wondering at the fit of the armor. "Er... thanks."
His eyes light up once more at Sal's producing of the fine sword. "Good... This..." Having handled a rapier only a few times, Derrick marvels at the light weight and speed of the weapon. Unstrapping the shorter, dingier blade, he belts on the fine silver sword. The Blackjack of Korvosa's sword... he thinks, shaking his head. If only the urchins could see me now...
Valsaya turns around quickly, startled by the Shoanti woman's sudden outburst. Dear goddess, if these people always act like this, I'm gonna have my hands full with them, she thinks to herself, as her lips curl into a slight smile.
When Salomon calls her over and hands her the weapon, she takes it reverently. She runs her fingers lightly over the golden hilt of the blade, and turns it around in her hands. The sun catches in the shining steel, and reflects against her face. Dropping to one knee so she can look the gnome in the eyes, she says, "Thanks Salomon, but you've already given us so much, I'm not sure I can accept this. You're a good man, and I hope we'll be able to repay your generosity when we return. I will treasure this, and I will find a way to repay you." She clasps the gnome's hand in her own, and gives him a respectful nod.
"Be safe, my friend," she says after rising again and sheathing the new blade. She then turns, and follows Ulfak outside.
Looking closely at the map and orienting himself, Vedic points in the direction they needed to go.
"Everyone ready?"
Cindersnake finishes making sure her gear is stowed properly before shouldering one of the heavier backpacks. The Shoanti woman winces for a moment as her bad leg takes more of the weight that it desires. She shifts about until the pack settles better then lifts up the heavy earthbreaker gifted to her by Salomon. She nods to the pointy-eared scholar, "Aye. Let us be about this trek into the depths of the dead."
Derrick runs a finger absent-mindedly over the rapier's guard, admiring the work. He looks at Vedic. "This is my business; I'm always ready. Question's if you are, book-boy."
Ulfak follows Vedic and his map out of town. Once he clears the civilisation and reaches open ground he cannot restrain himself further and moves ahead, using his survival skills to keep an eye out for danger.
The shield is holstered on his back, the scimitar swinging at his waist and the scythe waving across the sky, winging back and forth.
They head out, following a trail north away from town. The travel over hills and through a light forest. Along they way, they pass several arranged piles of stones and wood. These are some of the cairns that are marked on the map. Soon enough, they find themselves at the location marked as the Whispering Cairn. However, no cairn lies here. Instead, they find an unkempt, abandoned mining office. It's falling apart, but it looks as if it has gone unused for decades. Other than the office, there are no other immediate signs of the cairn.
"I've been waiting for this for almost two months." Vedic said with an excited grin. "Not quite what I expected though."
Shading her eyes from the sun with one hand, Valsaya peers at her surroundings. "So where is this cairn we're looking for," she asks no one in particular.
"Doesn't seem like there's much of anything out here." Walking around the area, she inspects the ground for any recent activity.
Searching around, Valsaya does not find any tracks. After a few minutes, she discovers a small, unused path hidden by some bushes. The path leads deep into a nearby forest.
While she is searching for tracks, Ulfak checks out the disused cabin for signs of use or the passage of three adventurers.
While the zealot moves off to look at... the ground?... Derrick shakes his head and sets about his own business, examining the shack itself, especially focusing on windows and doors. "By the way, you lot may want to find something comfortable to do for a bit--I'm not skimping on this."
Derrick taps on his knees as he looks at the blockage. "Well, this is what I came for--let's see if life in the dung pit known as 'Diamond Lake' hasn't dulled my skills..."
Pulling out some of the tools from his bag, Derrick sets to work.
Derrick moves up to the door, in an attempt to unlock it. He kneels beside it, rummaging through his new set of tools. He places a hand on the door to steady himself for a moment and the door falls into the home, dropping off the hinges. It leaves behind an open doorway.
Ulfak searches around for movement, but it appears this place has been left untouched for months, if not years.
"Huh," Derrick says, standing up and brushing some dirt from his coat. "Guess I'm even better at opening doors than I thought."
Poking his head inside, the thief looks around the office, calling for light if needed.
Small mounds of debris litter the floor of the building’s interior. Loose stones, dead weeds, and grime cover virtually every surface. Paintings must have once adorned the place as indicated by the particular stain patterns marring the walls. The only light comes from thin shafts sneaking in from outside illuminating clouds of dust dancing through the stale air. While in quite the state of disrepair, the building appears salvagable with a bit of work.
This is a fine home to be rebuilt. The signs were right. All we need now is a way to stretch our muscles and prove ourselves to each other and I will be ready.
Ulfak moves up near to Valsaya but letting her lead with honour since she found the trail. The warrior in him looks around for possible danger and the hunter in him wants to see signs of possible prey.
"Yep," Derrick says, turning to the others. "Nobody here. Looks pretty rough, too--probably been empty for years. Still, with a little work it could be a good spot to set up camp, and I've slept in worse places before."
Seeing the others already moving off on the trail, though, Derrick frowns and shoulders his pack. No respect for the profession, he thinks, taking up the rear and casting his gaze about for potential threats.
They follow the path for about ten minutes. Eventually, they arrive at a yawning entrance set in the side of a hill. Just outside of the entrance is a large stone marked with various strange symbols and a hollowed portion marking the entrance to the Whispering Cairn. A light breeze begins to blow, howling as it flows through the stone.
"Well, it seems we've found this 'whispering' cairn Sal spoke off. Perhaps the hidden path and the ominous sound of that breeze might explain why it hasn't been mapped out properly yet," Valsaya says as she halts well clear of the entrance. "Unnerving, but certainly not supernatural."
Approaching the standing stone carefully, she inspects it a bit closer. "Anyone familiar with these symbols?"
Vedic takes a step forward, conjuring a cluster of drifting globes of light and taking a closer look at the markings.
"These glyphs don’t seem to be formed from a common alphabet, although they are reminiscent of arcane symbols representing elemental air. Some glyphs represent names, with each referring to a single individual. I make out three names. The letter forms look similar to an ancient glyph-language called Vaati, which some unorthodox scholars consider the original written form of Auran, language of the Plane of Air."
"Give me a moment, I may be able to draw some additional connections...
Flipping to the front of his book where his loose-leaf notes were kept in a series of folders, he opened a section on comparative alphabets and cyphering to look for any similarities.
"Nothing I'm familiar with." Vedic says with a shrug before breaking out some blank paper and making copies of the writing.
Cindersnake grips her hammer tightly as she glances about the entrance of the Cairn while the others check out the strange glyphs, "It is probably just a warning to not disturb those that lie within. Warnings are common outside such tombs, are they not?" The Shoanti woman starts for the hole that burrows into the hill, stepping carefully over the threshold, "Regardless of the danger or the warnings from those that came before, we must proceed."
They began to make their way inside, entering the first hall.
1. 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.
Ulfak's nose elongates as he scents the way ahead. The shaman sniffs the entrance area and smells for sign of human, animal or worse.