NICE MOVE!! You see, about 30' down the tunnel, a worked masonry chamber, about 20 feet per side. Its walls, adorned with what appear to be monster-shaped bas-reliefs
and carvings, seem very old. There are two exits from this chamber; a flight of stairs on the west wall and two open passages to the north and south.
There are three vicious-looking dogs at the south-western
corner of the chamber, tied to the wall with chains attached
to their leather collars. They furiously snarl and nip at each other.
They haven't spotted you.
You begin you descent of the iron ladder. It feels fairly sturdy to you. As you reach the roughly circular chamber at the bottom, which is about 20' across, you can see a narrow 10' wide passage heading off South. The passage is 6' high and roughly worked. A lickering torch must be sited some way down it judging by the wavering shadows that dance along it's walls. From where you are in this small chamber you can hear rough scrabling noises and the odd low growl coming from somewhere further along the tunnel. To see what or who is making the noises would require you either stepping or peeking into the tunnel.
There appears to be nothing of any note within the large chamber. The wall of the well / pit is raised about 1' above the cave floor. The well seems to drop down for about 30 - 40'. You can all see flickering torchlight from below, although it appears to be coming from a tunnel down at the bottom that heads off South. The rungs of the iron ladder that drops down look quite sturdy, but are obviously also quite old.
HI GUYS!!! SO sorry i've been absent! Got rushed into hospital for a minor op!!!! But i am back home now so should be posting again tomorrow. Once again, sorry for leaving you guys hanging around. (I'm loving what you are doing so far by the way.)
I judge that darkvision is always active Looking along the side passage you see that this tunnel looks even dirtier and more neglected than the others, its beams rotted, greying and filled with cobwebs.
You both creep stealthly forward into the large chamber. Flickering torchlight illuminates the area. This mine cave has an area of roughly 1,000 square feet.
Its unworked, solid stone walls and floor suggest it was here before the mine; however, there is a well with a masonry rim on the floor.
Closer inspection reveals a line of metal rungs down the pit, allowing a man-sized creature to safely descend to whatever is below. In the far North Eastern corner, beyond the pit you can see two large, pulsating, white worm like creatures. Magots! But og a gaigantic size, close to the length of a full grown mans arm. As you enter they appear not to have senced your presense.
You both progress slowly along the tunnel. As you do, the musky smell recedes behind you. The tunnel slopes gently downward. To your left, a side passage opens up, whilst the main tunnel continues onward before opening into a larger chamber some 40' ahead. From where you are you can just make out a pit in the distant chamber, a flickering torch shedding light from it's sconce in the wall.
From where the overturned minecart is, at the centre of a crossroads in the tunnel, you can see the following:-
* Ahead of you to the North, the tunnel seems to carry on for about 50-60' before seeming to open into another chamber.
* To the left the passage runs for 25' and then becomes a T junction, leading North and South.
* To the right the tunnel heads North East before splitting and heading North and East respectively.
Your torchflame seems to gutter and bend in a slight breeze from the entrance cave. The breeze is channeled into the North East passage.
OK, I have returned!! Hope everyone had a good holiday. I will start posting again tomorrow when I am fully rested and have got my stuff in front of me.
Everything seems ok. There is a faint musky smell that you can't place...
Kimeon
Spoiler:
There is a musky smell coming from the cart. You see tiny pinpricks of red from underneath it as the light from your lamp catches something; possibly eyes.
You both come to a crossroads, where the overturned minewagon rests amid a pile of debris. From here you might continue on this same tunnel, or else turn left or right.
Spot check DC 20
Finally you reach a cave entrance in the mountain face. This, then, is the beginning of your journey – the entrance to the depths of Mount Moru, the so-called Mountain of Terror.
The cave looks like the mouth of a monster or, more accurately, that of a ghost – a screaming vengeful spirit, waiting to devour those that enter its dark throat. Many strange symbols appear carved around the arch of the cave; they are at least a few years old, though not ancient – somebody made them relatively recently. Most
of all, you feel alone up here – alone here, among the dreary rocks, so far above the ground and so close to the high winds and the empty greying sky; alone facing the gloomy, solitary entrance to the caves – to the ancient underground realm
of Mount Moru. The wind blows a tune of loneliness, dust and desolation as you turn to the entrance and step into the darkness…
These dreary, silent caves are a testament to the Morudhain peoples first and last attempt to settle in Mount Moru. They are all that remains of a half-built mine site, which looks like it had to be abandoned for unknown reasons. The caves still
feature the vestiges of what aspired to be a prosperous mine, now reduced to a couple loose timbers, overturned mine wagons and rusted rails.
Other than dirt and wooden scaffoldings, this reduced cave features no more than a couple of rotting wooden stools and an unlit torch attached to the wall; surely a vestige of when the area was inhabited.
Spot / Search check DC15
Spoiler:
the stools and torch appear to be used somewhat more frequently than they are made to appear.
The cave entrance slopes slightly downward for about 30'. The 20' wide passage appears to have a small chamber that branches off from the main passage further into the cave.
After leaving the horses behind, you all make good time heading up the narrow pass. With the scouts blazing a trail and only making a single stop to take on food from your rations it seems as if you might make the end of the pass before nightfall.
The stormclouds have arrived at the mountain but, other than a period when you were buffeted by high wind and lashing rain, it has not really held you back from your quest. And now you seem to actualy be above the storm. Looking back down the trail, you wonder how your horses have faired.
Everyone makes slow progress up the treacherous winding path. After a few hundred feet though you come to the conclusion that the horses are not going to make it much further, especially since you are probably going to be on it for the best part of a day. The path is seriously in danger of becoming impassible in places and the thought of trying to lead a nervous mount along it doesn't fill you with confidence.
You spot what appear to be a trio of larger birds circling higher up the mountain. They don't seem to be taking any noticable attention of your group at the moment.
Moru Road
Moru Road starts a few hundred feet northeast of the
Meadowvale village and then it winds northward a
little more than 100 miles until arriving to the base
of Mount Moru. In all, following the road from
Meadowvale to Mount Moru takes roughly one
week on foot. To the north, Moru Road ends in the
Lost Pass at the southern face of the mountain; this
pass used to be a pathway right through the base of
Mount Moru, from which Moru Road continued
on northward. However, the pass was blocked by
rubble a few centuries ago, now, the official end of
Moru Road is the Lost Pass; the only way to continue
northward without going around Mount Moru is to
take the Moru Path up into the mountain.
The Moru Path
There is a mountain trail leading off the point where
Moru Road dies at the Lost Pass junction. This trail
meanders up into the mountain for about a day’s
walk until it reaches the first tunnels into the Upper
Areas inside Mount Moru, a little more than a mile
above ground level. This ascending trail, known as
the Moru Path, is the main access way inside Mount
Moru; nearly all of the explorers and travellers that
come to Mount Moru use the Moru Path to get in.
The Moru Path ends officially at the entrance of the
tunnels into the Upper Areas; after that, the long trip
inside Mount Moru begins…
"Well, they aren't our horses, for one. And we shouldn't abandon them to goblins...or whatever."
The halfling jumps off his horse and reaches up to pat its shoulder. "Kepp an eye on them, for us?" He says. "We may be coming back in a hurry."
He leads the horse to a rock and loosely drapes the lead over it.
"I'll just go and scout out the rubble. I won't be long."
Invisible Castle is down. Again. If I take 10 on my Survival check, I'll get a 15. I'd like to know what, if anything, has been by this area recently, and perhapd whether the rubble is natural orwas engineered.
KimeonYou seem to have forgotten to post as Kimeon, Steven. And I'm OK with players making their own rolls if they like...I trust you all.
Spoiler:
The rubble appears to be natural. Their is a definate trace of goblins having recently been in the area, i.e. spoor, food remains, torn clothing etc.
The Moru Road ends at a Pass at the base of Mount Moru itself, which is where you now all find yourselves. A cave-in appears to have blocked the road’s further access closer to Mount Moru at this point.
A rough trail leads up into the mountain, starting eastward from the Pass and climbing around the eastern mountain face until it dissapears from view.
Finally, after traveling for another day or so, you approach the ominous shadow of Mount Moru itself. The mountain looks like
a thousand rock needles trying to pierce the sky, a grey mass of jagged points and spikes ready to stab and bleed any living thing that touches them – and among these peaks, there is a winding path
leading up the mountain, meandering through the sharp rocks like a grey snake. A large gathering of crows, that circle overhead is the only sign of life that you can see - apart from yourselves...and the wolf.
The wolf responds well to Amelias aproach and even gingerly takes scraps of food when you stop to camp. But he does keep a fair distance at most other times, never coming to sit near any of you.
Time passes on the journey. A constant drizzle seems to follow your route.Ahead and growing closer by the hour sits the imposing dark ediffice of Mount Moru. Your solitude in this empty land is telling; so much in fact, that, on the second day of your travels you all spot a lone wolf quietly padding towards you, walking at the side of the road. As you approach, it raises its head, it's ears sticking up. Looking you all over, it continues it's walk apparently unconcerned by your approach.
I'm assuming you make camp on a regular basis, stopping for the night etc and placing watches. You have about another days travel in front of you.
True, but I'm happy to go with it. Like I said before, i'm more for moving the story along than sticking to the word of the rules.
Amelia
Spoiler:
As you leave behind the familiar lands,
the sheer harshness of the realm before you
overwhelms your senses and instinct, as if you
had suddenly entered another world: A world
of dismal landscapes and rocky wasteland, of
calling winds and unnatural gloom. This country
has an ancient, hostile feel to it; you cannot help
but feeling like an intruder in a realm of such
silent, pristine desolation. For a moment it feels
like the land itself is trying to make you feel
unwelcome.
As you are all mounted you can estimate the journey taking aproximately 3 - 4 days.
A few piests come out to wave you off, perhaps looking like they have done this sort of thing too many times before. You all get an uneasy shiver down your spines s you realise that this may be the last time you see these people again...
The road to Mount Moru stretches north as far as you can see. It is a windswept, neglected road, closer to a natural trail than a paved
thoroughfare. Nothing moves in this dreary grey landscape, except the occasional dust cloud carried by the east wind. Mount Moru, the end
of this road, is supposed to be barely visible from
here but is hidden behind low cloud; however, you are sure you can discern the shadowy silhouette of the craggy peak, awaiting
somewhere over the line of the horizon.
The door from the courtyard swings open with an icy blast as Gronck comes in from where he slept. Making his way across the hall he looks over at Jack wrapping himself even tighter in his cloak and returns to close the doors again. He then moves over to where Jack is standing.
"Is dis more food dat me can be eatin?"
** spoiler omitted **
Grock
Spoiler:
It's possible he could keep up, but he may get atigued pretty quick. There a horse if he needs one.
The mornng dawns cold and grey. A wind howls from the North, bringing a chill to the drafty halls of the temple. Many of the priests have been up now for a few hours attending prayers and beginning the days chores.
Deovain greets you and joins you while you take breakfast, explaining that horses have been provided for you and provisioned for the journey ahead.
"Your mounts await in the yard. Take care of them, as they have been trusted servants to us over the years. I wont pretend that I rate your chances and there is every chance I might not see some of your faces again. But hope goes with you; hope and our holy blessing. Gods speed to you all."
With that he stands and makes his exit. You are sure that a stray tear crept down his cheek.
Kimeon walks for a few minutes in the night air before realizing there's nothing in town really worth the round trip. Longing for some kind of action before turning in, he searches for a tree standing close to the temple and tests himself. He sets out a small hourglass and flips it over. He then climbs the tree, scampers across the branches and leaps to the nearest balcony. He finishes his exercise by scaling back down the wall, somewhat recklessly. When he returns to the hourglass, he flips it over without waiting and immediately repeats the routine, trying to beat his time.
After a few repetitions of this, he returns to the temple for a final mug of ale and a bath.
I dont see why not, although i'm not sure if the campaign will go higher than 20th. we shall see....
OK. I will asume that everyone else is also turning in for the night, unless there is something particular that you want to do. And before we go on I'd just like to say how pleased and impressed I am by everyones style of play. Its role play, not roll play. Lets keep it up.
Amelia will excuse herself from Tukonen's company after some hours have passed.
She will go to the high priests office and knock politely. If no answer, she will look for his quarters and do the same.
Her main goal is to find all information on the relic unicorn horn, its abilities, etc. Any and all information about the mount moru region, to include inhabitants, its complete history and legends. If such information is available in written form and is easier to distribute the knowledge that way, she will ask to borrow the tomes for the journey to use as a reference guide.
Deovain invites you into his office. He bids you sit and explains that the Unicorn Horn is a blessed weapon and the bane of darkness and evil everywhere, representing the light of truth and the piercing
might of knowledge. The Unicorn Horn looks like a spear, crafted from the true horn of a unicorn and given a shaft of sacred white wood. When the unicorn horn is wielded in combat it is said to exhibit powerful and unique abilities although the High Priest is unsure as to their exact nature - he has never seen it wielded in anger.
In regards tomes, he gives you leave to borrow the guide to Mount Moru book, on the promise that it will be returned safely.
You arrive at the temples library. It is a fairly well stocked affair, for such a remote location. Shelves line the walls brimming with dusty tomes. Flickering lanterns sit on three tables in the centre of the room and comfortable looking chairs beckon invitingly to you. A single young woman is placing books back on the shelves. She smiles as you enter, picks up a sheet of parchment and moves to exit the room. As she passes you she speaks.
"The High Priest will see you in his quarters when you are finished Amelia"
She bows and leaves.
Several books are of interest to you here:-
THE DIARIES OF FIALL GARNWYNN
Sheathe your sword, my poor son,
In a scabbard of hide,
Let the steel be inside
Where all true deeds be done;
Sheathe your sword, my poor son,
In a scabbard of stone;
Let the rock be the throne
For the blade of the sun;
Sheathe your sword, my poor son,
In a scabbard of wood,
Let old oak drop the food
That your cold steel shall spawn;
Sheathe your sword, my poor son,
In a scabbard of sea;
Let the sightless depths be
Where the warrior hath gone;
Sheathe your sword, my poor son,
In a scabbard of man!
Let your foes become wan,
Their slaves scatter and run!
Sheathe your sword, should you wish,
In a scabbard of me,
So your black heart may see
How your joy I relish;
Still, if you sheathe your sword
In a scabbard of scale,
Let your soul become pale
And no Gods give you word.
(Found carved on a standing stone, near the site of
the disappeared Black Elk tribe)
"This, then, shall be my last pitiful attempt at making
sense of this bottomless abyss I have insisted in
calling ‘life’ for the past near-century. Sometimes I
wonder just how contemptible I must be, to need these
ludicrous endeavours to fl ee the mirthless abyss of my
immortal blood. Even undertaking these explorations
was stupid enough, I see it now; however, making
literature out of them, truly putting them to the
written word for innocent souls to read, must surely
be a crime beyond the Gods’ ken. Yet I cannot find the
strength to stop myself, for now remembering comes
much easier to me than forgetting…"
Fiall Garnwynn
– Nowhere, No Time At All
"Located in the middle of the little known and justly
feared Morudhain lands, Mount Moru remains a
realm of terrible secrets and unfamiliar dangers.
For years, the dread crags around this mountain and
its unfathomable depths have remained unknown
by the civilised world. It is a well known fact, of
course, Mount Moru was the site of the ancient Athan
civilisation, of which no trace remains except a couple
of ruins. However, no living sage has explored the
depths of the mounts, or the natural caverns that
are known to lie below it. At least part of the reason
is the admittedly little aesthetic appeal posed by a
dangerous, craggy peak in the middle of a wasteland
when compared to an ancient
elven city or an exotic faraway
jungle; even so, any explorer
worth his salt will admit a
certain sense of frustration at
not having yet explored that
darkly attractive summit."
–From Sir Damhain’s Travel
Guide for the Adventurous Sort
"Respect what you do not know,
for not knowing is a mighty
thing."
–Morudhain folk saying
"Mount Morrah? I dinna rightly
know, sir. Must be dragons
below it for sure."
–Breannus Cogg, Fisherman of
Meadowvale
The Legend of the Haunted Lake
The Haunted Lake
Near Mount Moru’s lower occidental slope,
about 3,000 feet above the ground, there is
an underground spring coming out through a
great cave in the mountain face. The spring
turns into a pond of troubled water a few
hundred feet below, which in turn spills into
a thin creek, scattered with waterfalls, that
descends all the way down to a great loch
at the western mountain base. The spring,
the pond, the creek, the waterfalls and of
course the loch at the bottom are known to
be haunted, with several legends and reports
agreeing that something unnatural lives at
the lake.
The Drowned Bride
Decades ago there was a village, whose name has
been forgotten, near the craggy peak that is now
known as the Mount of Terror, barely an hour’s ride
west of the Haunted Loch. There was a girl in this
village, the daughter of an important landlord of the
realm; this girl had such grace and beauty all young
men in the village courted her. She infl amed every
one of them equally, for she loved the admiration
of men; however, there was one she preferred above
all the rest – the brave and handsome son of the
scribe. This young lad had never spoken to her, yet
he wrote her long and moving letters where he spoke
of his true love; it was these letters that moved the
lady’s soul and made her irrevocably injured with
love. So, while she played games with all her other
suitors, the lady was secretly waiting for the young
scribe to speak of marriage. However, the young
lad was rather shy in matters of the heart, as brave
as he was in other aspects; therefore he never dared
speak or propose to the lady, being content with
wistfully looking away every time she wooed and
laughed with the other men. In fact, he believed the
lady did not love him back, and soon lost all hope;
he stopped visiting the lass and began leaving the
city for long periods. Local folk rumoured he went
to the dark grey lake by the mountain, now known
as the Haunted Loch, to write melancholic odes to
dejection near the dead waters.
When the lass got tired of waiting, she decided to
force the young lad to action by inciting his jealousy;
she accepted and even became engaged to another
man and then to another, expecting the young scribe
to come out of his stupor and attempt to win her
heart himself. Instead of being stirred up to action
as the girl wanted, the young lad was deeply hurt
by these provocations and decided he would take
his revenge. His heart, once clear and innocent,
darkened with pain; his youthful countenance turned
grim and hard with bitterness. He came uninvited to
the lass’ birthday party, storming through the gates
like a messenger of doom, and there he found his
beloved gaily dancing in the arms of another man.
There, in the dance hall, before dozens of guests,
the young scribe cast a terrible curse upon the lass
and the man she was with, dooming her to never fi nd
happiness with a man ever again, for his was the
only true love she would have ever known. After
these odious words, the young scribe rode away
like thunder, his face that of a striking, wrathful god
of olden times. He left the village without saying
goodbye to anyone, going away forever to his home
at the Haunted Loch. The terrified girl, who never
thought her game would go so far, was horribly
disappointed with her love and fell under a spell of
grief for a whole year, during which she courted no
man and saw nobody outside her family. Day after
day visitors arrived or sent gifts, and they all were
sent back. After some time, nobody went to see the
beautiful lady, whose isolated grief became a part of
local folklore.
A year passed by and the girls’ mother and father
became so scared that her little child would waste
away to nothing that they begged her to come out
from her sorrow, promising her anything if she
would only take a young lad as her husband and live
as befi ts a lady again. She finally accepted, on the
condition her hand was promised only to a man that
could write the most beautiful of verses to express
his love. Her parents complied and, within a few
days, a poetry contest was held in the village; it was
announced the winner would get the hand of the
young lady. The poems and love letters that fl ew to
the lass’ house were uncounted, for the young men of
the village had never forgotten her legendary beauty,
even during her long seclusion. The girl read all of
the letters, becoming more tired and grief-struck
with each of them, for none showed the vivid, yet
innocent worship of the man she had once loved; all
fell empty and insincere to her needy heart. Then,
when she had read all the letters and was ready to die
of disenchantment and frustration, there was a knock
at the door of the estate; the guards that opened it
saw no one but the shadow of a black raven, cawing
hatefully as it flew away. There was a letter on the
door, sealed with black wax and enveloped in ashes.
It was addressed to the young lady and, when her
parents saw it, they were afraid and wanted to cast it
into the fire. However, she walked down the stairs
as if under a spell, took the letter from her parents’
hands and locked herself up to read it. There it was
– there were the words of love, there was the pure
devotion, the true adoration of those letters she had
read so long ago.
That night, while her poor parents silently prayed
for her well-being, the young girl sneaked out of her
room, left her house and went walking alone in the
night. Those who saw her that night said she was
following a black raven. She never returned to the
village again.
A full moon later, some fishermen found the lady
at the bottom of the Haunted Loch – together with
her body, they dragged up the drowned corpse of the
young scribe that had disappeared from the village
more than a year ago. Legend has it the young lady’s
pale corpse, as beautiful as it had been in life, was
still wearing a white wedding dress.
–Traditional folktale
In addition to the legends, there are many actual
reports of supernatural encounters near the edge
of the lake; this writer has talked to several
Morudhain men and women that swore having seen
strange creatures, fish-like yet walking as humans,
clambering about the water’s edges during the late
hours and, at the first break of dawn, climbing back
up the cursed mountain and into some watery dark
lair of ancient evil.
A Delvers Guide to Mount Moru
The following are excerpts of notes based on Fiall
Garnwynn’s actual, first-hand exploration of Mount
Moru, during which he personally visited many of the
areas described herein. Additional material has been
compiled from notes by other explorers, as well as a
few accounts taken directly from the local folk (Note
by the Researchers).
"There I go again, though I already regret my fi rst
visit so much I would rather the gods had smitten me
instead of allowing it. I should have never become
attracted to this damned place, should have never
come here… and yet I have no doubt it was my
destiny all along. I do belong to Mount Moru; I am
as much a part of it as the monsters and legends. I
can never turn back…"
–Fiall Garnwynn, A Goodbye
Moru Road
Moru Road starts a few hundred feet northeast of the
Meadowvale village and then it winds northward a
little more than 100 miles until arriving to the base
of Mount Moru. In all, following the road from
Meadowvale to Mount Moru takes roughly one
week on foot. To the north, Moru Road ends in the
Lost Pass at the southern face of the mountain; this
pass used to be a pathway right through the base of
Mount Moru, from which Moru Road continued
on northward. However, the pass was blocked by
rubble a few centuries ago, now, the offi cial end of
Moru Road is the Lost Pass; the only way to continue
northward without going around Mount Moru is to
take the Moru Path up into the mountain.
The Moru Path
There is a mountain trail leading off the point where
Moru Road dies at the Lost Pass junction. This trail
meanders up into the mountain for about a day’s
walk until it reaches the first tunnels into the Upper
Areas inside Mount Moru, a little more than a mile
above ground level. This ascending trail, known as
the Moru Path, is the main access way inside Mount
Moru; nearly all of the explorers and travellers that
come to Mount Moru use the Moru Path to get in.
The Moru Path ends officially at the entrance of the
tunnels into the Upper Areas; after that, the long trip
inside Mount Moru begins…
The Haunted Lake
The third and most unusual entrance into Mount Moru
is the Haunted Lake, which I have discussed earlier in
these notes. By following the course of the spring and
waterfalls that feed the haunted loch at the mountain
base, it is possible to find a trail leading 3,000 feet up
into the mouth of a cave. This cave leads inside some
abandoned mines, probably made by dwarves or by
some unfortunate Morudhain settlers. There must be
at least a few paths leading from these mines inside
Mount Moru, though I cannot swear thus since I have
not finished exploring the mines myself. Should
the gods grant me the courage to travel to that damn
mountain again, I shall try and fi nish my exploration
some day…
Beneath Mount Moru
(Note from the Researchers): The following notes
about ‘inner’ Mount Moru are taken from extremely
varied and unreliable sources, from Fiall Garnwynn’s
occasional drinking ‘adventurer’ companions, to
superstitious Morudhain savages that could produce
no proof of their testimonies. Furthermore, the notes
have been gathered from wildly different periods and
stages of Garnwynn’s own research, which accounts
for their disparity and flawed arrangement. A much
more clear, comprehensive and trustworthy account of
inner Mount Moru can be found in the most excellent
treatise entitled The Path of Archaneroth.
The High Fortress
"The reason we are gathered here, then, is to report
the successful expedition into the first underground
level of Mount Moru, undertaken by the Royal
Brigade and my person (…) after we cleared the last
of the tunnels, we discovered a complete underground
fortress, of such size and complexity it could easily
have been called a palace or citadel. We deemed
it was of Athaean design, for the architecture was
much reminiscent of the other Athaean cities we
have seen and it was located in the entrance to the
Athaean territory (…) thus we have named it the High
Fortress, as it is located high and close to the surface
and its builders surely used it for elevated purposes.
We proceeded to obtain whatever treasures we could
deem as being of value and worthy of the treasure
halls of Her Majesty, while myself and other sages
made the following transcript, being a precise copy of
the markings we found on the walls and its meaning
in the Athaean tongue (…)"
–Account of the discovery of the High Fortress by
the Royal Expedition Brigade (excerpt)
"There be somethin’ like a castle a few hundrid feet
after th’ Moru Path entrance… it look like a cave
but it be no cave proper cuz below the rock are old
walls, like they was built and not natural, if ye get me
meanin’ sir… a mine? Mmmm, no, I did not find no
mine, guv’nor…"
–Archus Brainnan, prospector
"Yes, they entered the caves last moon. I saw it.
Shadow demons or goblins they were, moving like
they were bound for the tunnels inside… how many?
Enough to take over the cursed fortress, that is for
sure. The goblins are moving for war, they are…"
–Maevai Narrough, Morudhain shepherd
Dwarven Mines
"Not only am I sure there is a gold mine beyond the
Haunted Lake entrance into Mount Moru; I am also
certain the dwarves at Stonehold have settled in
Mount Moru for the very purpose of taking it back.
Why they have not moved into it, I cannot tell, as
I cannot be moved to take the gold myself. After
learning what I learned there, no amount of gold
shall be worth a lifetime of damnation. Perhaps the
dwarves are waiting for someone or something to
make Mount Moru healthy again. If that is the case,
they shall rot in their stone halls for their mine shall
be forever surrounded by Hell…"
–Fiall Garnwynn, Paths Into the Rock
The Fire Pits
"Though no living explorer has actually gone beyond
the deep mines below the Athan Fortress, it stands
to reason that there should be volcanic caves, even
lava pits, somewhere deeper into Mount Moru. As
we all know, all mountains are extensions of the fiery
environment below the earth; I cannot see why Mount
Moru should be an exception. Surely these fire caves
are not the infernal realm of Morudhain superstition
– surely they are warm tunnels connected to lava pits,
nothing more."
–From the Studies on Mount Moru by Andwar
Bacchi
"Below the mines there is nothing. Nothing but Hell
itself, with its fire pits and its demons. I shall go
beyond that, though, for that is my doom.
–Fiall Garnwynn, A Goodbye
The Giant Caves
"There are too many testimonies referring to the
existence of giants in the Mount Moru for us to cast
aside. Going no further than local accounts, we can
identify no less than three different giant species,
sharing space inside the mountain. Some reports
place them high in the mountain paths, while some
below the mountain base. Probably both are true
– there is enough space in Mount Moru, that is for
sure."
–From Cynnar Darran’s Giants of the World
"According to the Morudhain and the dark-skinned
gnomish creatures that they sometimes trade with,
there is a fantastic realm, inhabited solely by giants,
located somewhere underground, near the base of
Mount Moru. Sadly, the tunnels into the mountain
base remain blocked and trying to descend into the
inner mount from the upper accesses has proven a
dangerous and diffi cult enterprise; therefore we have
no way to prove or deny these stories. Until a brave
and resourceful adventurer manages to reach the
long-abandoned depths of the inner mountain base
and explore them thoroughly, we shall never know
whether there really are ‘giant caves’ below Mount
Moru or not."
–From the Studies on Mount Moru by Andwar
Bacchi
Underground Realms
There should be no doubt about the existence of a
full-scale underground environment, with its tunnels,
creatures and perhaps even cities, below Mount
Moru. Not only because of the several relations and
legends referring to such a world but also because it
makes sense that such a vast cave complex as Mount
Moru should extend far below. So far the only thing
we know for sure is the presence of an underground
city inhabited by gnome-like beings, which call
themselves sveir fay blin as far as this writer knows.
However, these sveir fay blin brought many other
stories along with them, such as the rumour of dark
dwarf-like races bent on conquest, living in great
fortress deep below the earth, evil dragons lurking
in pitch-black caves or even dark elves, which
would have nothing to do in these parts of the world
but perhaps could have reached Mount Moru from
unknown underground tunnels. These stories are all
as yet unsubstantiated, yet they do cast a kind of spell
on the listener – the unknowable, indefi nable feel
that only true stories have, no matter how fantastic or
terrifying they may be."
The Lightless Depths
"What is below the depths? What is below the
deepest realms of Mount Moru? Even darker caves,
even deeper tunnels, ever darker and deeper until
there is nowhere to go but Hell? Dark underground
realms, ruled by races forgotten by mortal men? Or
perhaps the lost Athan cities; cursed by the gods and
buried forever under unfathomable tons of rock…
is Archaneroth there, somewhere below the deepest
depths? Are dragons there? Is the Old Dragon himself
there, as stated by Morudhain legends? I do not think
we shall ever know, unless a man actually goes in
there and finds out for himself."
–Fiall Garnwynn, A Goodbye
The halfling shrugs as if he had never thought about it before.
"I don't know what I'm looking for. I guess to keep busy and hone my skills."
He watches the cleric leave with her escort before chiming in, "Those sweet rolls are baked fresh and come with honey. I'll be first in line at breakfast as long as they're around!"
He looks around at the rest of you. "It's kind of a slow night life here,despite all the explorers coming in and out of town. I'm off to find a roling tavern and maybe charm a lass. See you in the morning!"
Kimeon
Spoiler:
Welcome! I am liking your introductions! Keep it up. As a side note, the temple is about an hours walk outside town. Its possible to make it to a tavern and get back but it would be a long walk. There is a small brewery at the temple where they make a local ale. You will have seen this since you arrived.
High priest Deovain stands and walks toward the door.
"Patience my large friend. It is getting late so I will have sleeping quarters made ready for you all. I suggest you get some rest for on the morrow your journey will begin in earnest. The Moru Road will take you North towards your destiny and it is a long journey. If you will have any special requests ready for me by first light I will do my best to see that they are met to the best of our abilities. Now if you will be patient for a few minutes longer I will see to your accomodation."
With that, Deovain bows to you all and leaves the room, his leather sandles making a slap, slap sound as he walks away.
"Who is the other occupant here? The one wishing to observe under a cowl?"
The High Priest smiles through steepled fingers.
"That my dear is Kimeon Rake, a fellow traveller you might say. He arrived right before you did. It seems that you may have use of his abilities. Oh and dont let looks deceive you...!"
"Your welcome."
Deovain stands from behind his desk and begins pacing backwards and forwards.
"Many centuries ago, members of the our church used to deal and trade
with the dragon-worshippers of the Athan Empire, even despite the vast religious differences of both cultures.
As a final gesture of peace, the church of Iri gave the Athans one of our most sacred relics – the real horn of a unicorn, symbolising the power of our god. Nobody knows what happened to the relic, much less after the Athan civilisation disappeared."
Deovain sits again and steeples his fingers.
"I take it you already know about the Moru tribes’s disappearance within the mountain?
I confesses that I am worried about the dragon-worshipping Morudhain finding the horn first.
Now, I cannot deny the fact that the Morudhain have probably been exploring Mount Moru for more than a year now, which may mean anyone searching for the Horn would have to obtain the relic from the
Morudhain rather than find it before them.
Now you would not be here if you weren't intrested in the Mountain. What say we help each other here.
We as a church are willing to put forward a 1,000gp advance to share amongst your party, as well as providing 21 days worth of trail rations if you can carry them. We can kit you out with appropriate equipment; backpacks, rope...you know the things.
I also personally promise those who return with the Horn a final payment of 10,000gp upon delivery of the relic. And remember; there is said to be untold wealth awaiting within Mount Moru.
So, what do you say?"
As you step inside out of the sudden downpour you almost knock Rann over.
"Ahh, it is fortuitous that it rains now, for High Priest Deovain will see you now. If you will follow me please..."
And with that he turns and walks briskly down a short marble hall toward a non descript single door at the far end. Here he pauses and knocks once before entering. He holds the door open for you.
A humble study with bare white walls and plain wooden furniture greets you. Seated behind the desk is a thin and tired looking man of middle years. His hair, greying and receeding is unkempt. Line crease his forhead. He wears a simple white monks robe. As you enter he looks up and puts a scroll he was reading down on the desk.
"Welcome; please, have a seat." He indicates a line of soft backed chairs yo one side of the room. As you notice these, you also note a cowled figure sat on a stool on the opposite side of the chamber.
"I am Deovain, High Priest within these walls and I believe we have a common interest in Mount Moru?"
