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Background:
In the mining town of Diamond Lake, to say life is hard is an understatement. The nearly lawless town is a base of corruption, greed, immoral indulgences, and violence, located in the Cairn Hills 85 miles east of The Free City of Greyhawk. Most residents in Diamond Lake are either people that have nowhere else to turn and the rest are people who exploit such miserable souls.
Despite its squalor, Diamond Lake is crucial to Greyhawk’s economy. The city’s directors thus take a keen interest in local affairs, noting the rise and fall of the managers who run Diamond Lake’s mines in trust for the government. The city’s chief man in the region is Governor-Mayor Lanod Neff, a lecherous philanderer eager to solidify his power and keep the mine managers in line. Neff exerts his capricious will via the agency of the grandiloquent Sheriff Cubbin, a man so renowned for corruption that many citizens assumed the announcement of his commission was a joke until he started arresting people.
The alliance between the governor-mayor and his pocket police might not be enough to cow Diamond Lake’s powerful mine managers, but Lanod Neff holds a subtle advantage thanks to the presence of his distinguished brother, the scrupulous Allustan, a wizard from Greyhawk who retired to Diamond Lake five years ago. None dare move against Neff so long as Allustan is around.
Instead of scheming against the government, Diamond Lake’s six mine managers plot endlessly against one another, desperate to claim a weakened enemy’s assets while at the same time protecting their own. While they are not nobles, the mine managers exist in a strata above normal society. They consider themselves far above their employees, many of whom are indentured or effectively enslaved as part of a criminal sentence. The miners’ loyalty tends to map directly to the working conditions, pay, and respect offered to the miners by their wealthy masters.
Iron, copper, and silver from Diamond Lake’s mines fuel the capital’s markets and support its soldiers and nobles with the raw materials necessary for weapons and finery. This trade draws hundreds of skilled and unskilled laborers and artisans, all hoping to strike it rich. In ages past, Diamond Lake boasted an export more valuable than metal in the form of treasure liberated from the numerous tombs and burial cairns crowding the hills around the town. These remnants of a half-dozen long-dead cultures commanded scandalous prices from Greyhawk’s elite, whose insatiable covetousness triggered a boom in the local economy. Those days are long gone, though. The last cairn in the region coughed up its treasures decades ago, and few locals pay much mind to stories of yet undiscovered tombs and un-plundered burial cairns. These days, only a handful of treasure seekers visit the town, and few return to Greyhawk with anything more valuable than a wall rubbing or an ancient tool fragment.
Perhaps the four of you will prove to be the exception.
dot
"Gloomy day...." Badabar says as he steps out into the square.
He pulls off his hat and looks up at the sky trying to make out the sun behind all of the clouds.
The little paladin attracts a few stares from the humans that make up the majority of the population. Most passersby probably mistake him initially for Tidwoad, the local gnome merchant, but his armor and battleaxe mark him as someone different.
"Master Wilburforce!" From behind the gnome comes a call in a somewhat high-pitched voice, as a well-groomed ratfolk scuttles up to him. "II haven't heard anything more about your missing gems. While you're in town, though, would you be willing to assist me in some exploration? I have a proposal from the wizard Allustan."
Later that day:
Andros and Cedric both receive notes at their rooms at the Able Carter Coaching Inn: I have a business proposal for you, involving some minor exploration in the area. See me at your earliest convenience if you're interested; my room is on the second floor at the far east end of the hall. It is signed "R!kktik."
"Pleased to meet you my new friend." Balaban replies to the ratfolk.
"and what might your name be?"
Waiting and moment until after he replies, then Badabar says:
"I'll listen to your wizard's proposal.
"I'm called--" The ratfolk delivers a brief polyconsontal barrage with a tongue click in it somewhere. "--but I'll answer to Rik if that's easier for you to pronounce. We met briefly at Tidwoad's. You were asking about stolen gems, and I've been trying to keep my ears open." His whiskers twitch. "The job sounds uncomplicated. Explore one of the old cairns to see if the generations of tomb robbers before us have missed something." A quick shrug. "If it were anyone but Allustan...."
Later that day:
Andros and Cedric both receive notes at their rooms at the Able Carter Coaching Inn: I have a business proposal for you, involving some minor exploration in the area. See me at your earliest convenience if you're interested; my room is on the second floor at the far east end of the hall. It is signed "R!kktik."
Intrigued, Andros appears at Rik's door and enters when the door is opened. "Hey, I've seen you at Tidwoad's when I buy my alchemical supplies. I got yer note. Thanks for thinking of me. So what's the job and how much danger is involved?"
The room appears to have been turned into an office, and there doesn't seem to be any actual place to sleep. A gnome leans against a set of books in one corner. Rik waves the oread in and moves a stack of papers off of a chair. "Thanks for coming by, Master Andros! I hope we get at least one more. Healers are good to have, I hear. Tchk! Manners." He waves in the gnome's direction. "This is Master Badabar Wilburforce. He's also interested in Allustan's proposal."
At Andros' question he shrugs. "Allustan wants us to look at one of the old cairns outside of the town. I know, they've all supposedly been looted long since. He's got this idea, though, that there are deeper ruins below the Cairn Hills. He'll pay us per day, gets right of first refusal to buy anything we find, and he'll analyze any magic items free of charge. He just wants any information we get out of the place. Now, I'm pretty handy with traps, and I spent some time exploring under the Free City. Master Wilburforce, here, is a justiciar. And you, well, you know what you can do better than I. So, you interested?"
Andros nods at the gnome, "Pleasure, Badabar, the name's Andros, just Andros." The oread sits and listens to the ratfolk's proposal. "So we going on a treasure hunt? Sounds good to me. Any excuse to leave this depressing town works for me. And we get paid too?! Sign me up. As for me, I'm pretty tough, can see in the dark, and when I punch things, they tend to stay down." Andros smiles at the last comment but remains quite confident in his words. "So when were you planning to lead this expedition? I don't need much prep time whatsoever."
"Let's hear from the wizard before we make any plans."
"My lord Gaerdal Ironhand wouldn't look kindly on one of his paladins turning to common grave robbing, but if there's something worth investigating then I think I can spare the time."
After his morning prayers, Cedric finds the note on his door and proceeds to the indicated room. Hearing talking inside, he knocks and enters once the door is opened.
"Greetings. My name is Cedric. What is this about exploring?" he says holding up the note. He listens intently as Rik repeats what he just finished telling Andros.
"Hmm, that seems reasonable. It would give me an opportunity to explore the area more thoroughly. When do we start?"
Rik nods slowly at the gnome's concern. "That's a question for the wizard. I understood him to be interested in more than simply treasure, though. If he's right, the cairn is only an entrance to something far older. Let's go see him now." The ratfolk hangs up a "BACK LATER" sign on the door and leads the way out after locking the door behind him.
Rik leads the party over to Allustan Neff's house, with Andros receiving some "oohs and ahhs" from the locals, still not accustomed to a rock man living in their town. Allustan dwells within a charming red and deep blue house on one of the rare stretches of healthy grass in all of Diamond Lake. A female housekeeper greets Rik, who has been over to the home previously and leads you inside to a small meditation garden that abuts the face of the house, incorporating vertical stones and small pools of concentric circles. The fresh paint and well-tended yard contrasts sharply with the rest of the seedy town. The human wizard with his well-groomed ebony colored beard sits on a bench reading a book.
He looks up from his book and smiles. "My, my, Rik. That was quick. You have assembled quite a team." His gaze focuses first on Badabar as he smiles. Then it moves over to Cedric, drawing a nod of assent. Then, it lands on Andros with a look of awe, as he studies the oread's crystalline protrusions. "Incredible...my friend, we will have to discuss your heritage one day in detail. I have tons of questions."
Allustan stands, "But where are my manners? Please sit, plenty of benches." He yells to the house, "Clotilde, fetch them some drinks. Ale, water, wine? Whatever is your pleasure." Allustan claps in glee. "So exciting. So, if you're here, you must have questions. But please let it be known, before we start, that I do not sanction grave robbing. What I am interested in are historical artifacts that may have survived. Recently, I have discovered in my studies that in this region there may lie an ancient Vaati ruin, which interests me greatly. The Vaati were powerful lords from the elemental plane of Air. What their purpose in this region may have been intrigues me to no end. If you can find Vaati relics, glyphs, writings, etc., that is what I seek and I will pay a modest sum for these historical treasures. Now, I am not very hopeful that you will find anything, as many of the cairns in these hills have been looted many times over, but like a wise man once said: "It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed." So when can you start? The Whispering Cairn is about 6 hours outside of town."
Allustan sits back down on his bench and awaits any further questions.
The oread steps back a little at the wizard's curiosity about him. Uncomfortably, he sits and mutters, "Yeah, sure, we can talk, whenever I have time. I'll take water for now."
Andros lets the wizard talk gleefully and explain the mission. He sips his glass of water, careful not to break it in his grip. "If we can get there before night, I am ready to go now. If not, I can wait till tomorrow morning."
"Is there anyplace to stay between here and there? We could go partway, rest the night, and reach the cairn with more time to explore it."
"It's a tomb. It hasn't gone anywhere for a long time, it'll still be there tomorrow."
"Let's leave tomorrow morning."
"Shall we leave at sunrise tomorrow?"
"Sunrise works for me - early riser gets the worm and all. It will also allow Cedric time prepare his prayers. I look forward to working with all of you."
"That works for me as well."
Cedric considers the offer and the plan. "Yes, tomorrow would be best. Such an excursion would require different divine help than I typically seek. How will we know if something is from the Vaati?" he asks Allustan.
"Yes, I don't know about them. What languages do they use?"
"I've never heard of these Vaati. They didn't come up in Gnome primary school." Badabar says.
"I imagine we just have to pay attention to what we find and describe it to the wizard."
"I'll be back in the morning with my gear and my steed."
Cedric considers the offer and the plan. "Yes, tomorrow would be best. Such an excursion would require different divine help than I typically seek. How will we know if something is from the Vaati?" he asks Allustan.
Allustan sighs, "Are none of you cultured in history or arcana? Perhaps the Oread, due to your heritage?" The wizard shakes his head, "The glyphs would be written in an ancient form of Auran before the language came to be represented by the draconic forms used today. How about this? Anything you don't understand with unusual pictographs or radiates magic, bring to me for examination, if it does not offend your sensibilities. I will wait to hear news from you all. Good luck, I am anxious to see what you find. Please note that if you delay in your exploration, someone might beat you to it." Allustan waves you goodbye and his housekeeper escorts you out.
"I'm trained in arcane knowledge, and can read Old Oeridian and Suloise (among others)."
Android nods, ”I am well read and versed in history. I am sure we will be able to identify your artifacts. So tomorrow at sunrise, till then folks. Thank you for the work, Allustan. We will be in touch.”
Badabar shows up early the next morning.
His breastplate is polished and gleaming and he has an axe as tall as he is in his right hand.
He is leading a well groomed pony on a bridle with his left hand.
You part ways after leaving the wizard's house. Diamond Lake readily offers something for everyone, especially their vices, be it prostitution, drugs, alcohol, pit fighting, or any other thing you can imagine. After your night of be it piety or debauchery in Diamond Lake, you awake early the next morning ready to commence your journey. You meet in town and travel on foot or pony to the cairn. Thankfully, you have a map that does not lead you wrong, since no one in the party has any survival skills. Cedric is the best qualified to read the map and the cleric does not lead you wrong.
By noon, you reach your goal and discover a wide and monolith-lined portal partially obscured by underbrush and some boulders. A few minutes work clears enough debris for you to pass inside. Natural light dimly illuminates a long hallway extending north into darkness. As you stand at the entrance, 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 ratfolk peers into the dark, whiskers twitching. "Solidly built. I hope the rest of it is like that, or we may have some digging to do. Master Wilburforce and Ma--sorry, Andros--would you go in front? Master Osric and I will bring up the rear. Don't get too far ahead, though. There may be traps."
He draws and loads his light crossbow.
Badabar unsaddles his pony and secures it to a tree a little bit off the path, making sure he has some grass to munch on.
He pulls several torches from his saddlebag and lights one.
He offers it to Cedric and asks "Would you mind carrying this? You're taller, you see, and so the light will travel further."
He looks to Andros and asks: "If you're good, then the two of us can lead the way as Rik suggests."
If the others are in agreement, he will head into the tunnel with the monk by his side.
The oread cranks his neck, stretches his arms and flexes his muscles a bit. "Ok, let's find out what's so special about this cairn. I can carry your torch since both of my hands are free, Badabar. If we're all ready..." Torch in hand, Andros heads into the cairn at a slow pace, relying on his keen senses to warn him of danger.
Andros and Badabar enter the cairn's 20' wide hall. The walls bear horizontal bands of deceptively simple geometric patterns at about waist level. In places, the bands revealed startling detail, but in others the walls looked as though they had been hacked apart with weapons or perhaps simply eroded by the rigors of time. Flakes of ancient paint, brilliant purple and a dull mustard hue, still clung to the walls in places, hinting at what must once have been a riot of color. A thin layer of dust coats the floor.
Just inside the tomb, the hallway branches into shallow alcoves to the east and west. There 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 small child rests in the rounded terminus of the western alcove. The wind suddenly picks up and a chorus of almost human sounds arises from the darkened hall.
You are currently 60' into the cairn. About 30' ahead, Andros sees two more alcoves, again one each to the east and west. Andros also points out to the rest of the party a flickering green light in the distance coming from the north, outside the range of his darkvision.
Badabar moves over to examine the clump of cloth in the west alcove.
The clump of cloth is a moldy old bedroll, which has hardened and become brittle with age. If you examine it too roughly, it will crack. It contains nothing of value. Badabar finds some whittling shavings around the bedroll but nothing else of interest.
Andros looks over the gnome's shoulder while he investigates the bedroll. "Looks like someone was camping inside here and forgot his/her bedroll. Let's move ahead to the next row of alcoves." The oread monk draws his kama, convinced dangers are close. He mutters, "Damn flickering green light in the distance is bothering me..."
Cedric was thankful for the map to help the group find the cairn. He had some experience using them as he found it useful to visualize a location he was researching the history of.
Entering the hall, he casts a spell on top of his helmet to bring the light of Pelor into the darkness. He follows along, letting the gnome and oread lead, and pauses when Badabar wants to check the alcove. He steps over to the gnome before he walks over and asks Pelor to guide him.
"Perhaps," he responds, "or left in a hurry. The howling wind is quite unsettling. I wonder if it was designed this way," he wonders as Badabar returns and Andros mentions the flickering light in the distance.
"A green flickering light?" Cedric says out loud to himself, wondering what it might be as he also readies his crossbow but has no idea.
"It's called the Whispering Cairn. No one who's talking about it knows why the winds do that here. Of course, the ruins we're looking for are of creatures of elemental Air, so...." He shrugs. "Might be a clue."
Cedric does not recall at this time any spell effect that would explain the green flickering light.
The party moves up to the next set of alcoves. 15' down the east passage, you see a huge pile of collapsed rubble. It looks like it would take weeks to tunnel through the densely packed debris.
To the west, however, you find a much more interesting sight. The western hall extended perhaps forty feet, ending at a small marble platform raised about six inches off the floor. A strange, shattered arcane apparatus rests upon the platform, its curved ovular frame giving the appearance of a noble’s dressing mirror. Only a third of the frame remains. An unusual arcane glyph about the size of a man’s head was delicately carved into the baseplate of the support platform. Image
A cursory search turns up a few shards of an unidentifiable shiny black substance lying on the ground in front of the mirror.
Badbar stands guard in the center of the hallway giving the others a chance to examine the apparatus.
Andros looks over the mirror, wracking his brain for knowledge on elementals' history. "This is definitely what Allustan was looking for, I think." He then bends down and investigates the shards on the ground.
"Be careful, Andros. Who knows what that was for when it was complete or why is is in such a condition now," Cedric says as he calls on Pelor tries to assist the monk and himself in determining what the item is. He keeps his distance from the item.
Andros picks up the shards on the floor and they feel cool to the touch, but otherwise harmless.
Rik cautiously approaches the frame, avoiding the fragments to start with. "This is odd. Wouldn't expect something like this to still be here, unless something protected it. Master Osric, can you look for magical auras?" He pulls paper and pen from his pack and sketches the glyph for their patron, trying to think if he's seen it anywhere before.
Rik investigates the mirror frame and finds some arcane sigils there signifying transportation. However, he fails to decipher the glyph's owner's name.
If Cedric complies with Rik's request, the mirror does not radiate magic.