DrK
2013-12-01, 03:02 AM
THE AGE OF WORMS HAS BEGUN!
Since the beginning of history, humanity has measured time in Ages. Ages of Glory, of Dreams, and even of Great Sorrows mark the human tally of years, giving a sense of order to the events of past centuries. But one age has yet to occur - an age of darkness, of decay, and of writhing doom. Witty bards and wrathful preachers know it as the Age of Worms, weaving it into the peripheries of their passion plays as a mythic era of destruction that could begin at any time. Astrologers, diviners, and the servants of Fate know more. The canniest among them fear that the Age of Worms has already begun.
http://img97.imageshack.us/img97/6125/whisperingcairn.jpg
Recent History
Nearly two years ago, unknown assassins poisoned the Duke of Diamond Lake and his entire family, leaving the duchy without an heir. Soon thereafter, the Town Council met and elected Lanod Ondabar of Irieabor, the little-known brother of the well-respected Delfen “Yellowknife” Ondabar as Governor-Mayor. Delfen is well known as “the smartest man in town” and provides his services as a sage.
Rumors suggest that the Town Council settled on Lanod Ondabar as a compromise candidate and lesser evil in lieu of Balabar Smenk, a disreputable mining magnate. As Governor-General, Lanod quickly appointed his old associate Cubbin, as sheriff and began selling political favors from the former duke’s castle to the highest bidder. In less than 24 months, the once-proud town of Diamond Lake has become synonymous with vice and exploitation, to the frustration of Sherlen Spearslayer (the local militia commander). Long-established businesses have been sold, their owners forced out by “new investors” allied with Lanod and Cubbin. In conscious imitation of the Lords of Free City, the identities of the 23-member Town Council are nominally secret except to each other, but everyone knows the roster includes the town’s guild¬masters and most prominent clerics.
The Adventure
Idle chatter around the village has alerted you to a trio of richly dressed newcomers who frequent the taproom of the Feral Dog, Diamond Lake’s most notorious tavern. The confident heroes of the City of Splendors bragged of hard-won battles on their journey and of their intention to explore the long abandoned Stirgenest Cairn in the nearby hills. You, being residents, know that cairn is often explored by the community’s youth, who always find it completely empty of marvels and perfectly harmless.
Not so another cairn about a day’s walk from the village. This cairn lies near an iron mine that went dry about 50 years ago. The mine’s charter lapsed when its manager died a few years later. Situated in a sort of no-man’s land, the cairn was all but forgotten, its yawning entrance overgrown with weeds and choked with debris. Rediscovered by a curious teenager a decade ago, the cairn has since been a sort of community secret held by Diamond Lake’s youth, who dare each other to disappear into its cyclopean entrance to prove their bravery.
Occasionally, when the wind is just right, haunting, almost magical tones emerge from the depths of the forlorn tomb. Those who know of its location call it the Whispering Cairn. If adventurers from the Free City expect to discover hidden passages and riches within the Stirgenest Cairn, it stands to reason that the Whispering Cairn might also hold a genuine opportunity for profit. In the rough-and-tumble village of Diamond Lake, an opportunity for profit is an opportunity to escape.
For one reason or another you have all spent the evening at Zalamandra's Emporium, a tavern/ vice den/ gambling hall/ freak show frequented by the hard-living miners of Diamond Lake. Whether there to drink, eavesdrop, work, sightsee, or simply to wager on rats and tiny spear-wielding jermlaine fight it out in a table-top maze, you have got together and decided that you will give it a shot...
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The next day the 6 of you had assembled on the Company Road leading North East of the town past one of the may abandoned mines that dot the surrounding hills.
The entrance is a wide monolith lined portal partially obscured by brush and shrubs. Natural light dimly illuminates the hallway extending North into the hill side and the darkness. A faint breeze brings with it sibilant whispers that sound almost like sighing breath or whispered faint dreams. It must be a trick of the wind but it is spooky nonetheless and for those not local to the town its obvious where the Whispering Cairn got its name.
The walls are smooth and bear horizontal bands of deceptively simple geometric patterns at waist level. In places the bands reveal startling detail, in others the rigours of time have eroded them or it appears that successive years of frustrated adventurers have hacked away at them. Flakes of ancient paint, brilliant purple and mustard yellow still cling to the wall in places hinting at once what must have been a riot of colour. Now a thin coat of dust just overs the floor and clings to the walls.
Just inside the darkened tomb the hallway branches into shallow alcoves to the east and west but beyond that the darkness swallows up any further detail.
The strangely smooth pattered marble walls give a corridor 20ft wide and 20tall that vanishes into darkness some 60ft ahead of you. About 50ft ahead you can see branching alcoves opening to the left and right...
You may Begin!
Since the beginning of history, humanity has measured time in Ages. Ages of Glory, of Dreams, and even of Great Sorrows mark the human tally of years, giving a sense of order to the events of past centuries. But one age has yet to occur - an age of darkness, of decay, and of writhing doom. Witty bards and wrathful preachers know it as the Age of Worms, weaving it into the peripheries of their passion plays as a mythic era of destruction that could begin at any time. Astrologers, diviners, and the servants of Fate know more. The canniest among them fear that the Age of Worms has already begun.
http://img97.imageshack.us/img97/6125/whisperingcairn.jpg
Recent History
Nearly two years ago, unknown assassins poisoned the Duke of Diamond Lake and his entire family, leaving the duchy without an heir. Soon thereafter, the Town Council met and elected Lanod Ondabar of Irieabor, the little-known brother of the well-respected Delfen “Yellowknife” Ondabar as Governor-Mayor. Delfen is well known as “the smartest man in town” and provides his services as a sage.
Rumors suggest that the Town Council settled on Lanod Ondabar as a compromise candidate and lesser evil in lieu of Balabar Smenk, a disreputable mining magnate. As Governor-General, Lanod quickly appointed his old associate Cubbin, as sheriff and began selling political favors from the former duke’s castle to the highest bidder. In less than 24 months, the once-proud town of Diamond Lake has become synonymous with vice and exploitation, to the frustration of Sherlen Spearslayer (the local militia commander). Long-established businesses have been sold, their owners forced out by “new investors” allied with Lanod and Cubbin. In conscious imitation of the Lords of Free City, the identities of the 23-member Town Council are nominally secret except to each other, but everyone knows the roster includes the town’s guild¬masters and most prominent clerics.
The Adventure
Idle chatter around the village has alerted you to a trio of richly dressed newcomers who frequent the taproom of the Feral Dog, Diamond Lake’s most notorious tavern. The confident heroes of the City of Splendors bragged of hard-won battles on their journey and of their intention to explore the long abandoned Stirgenest Cairn in the nearby hills. You, being residents, know that cairn is often explored by the community’s youth, who always find it completely empty of marvels and perfectly harmless.
Not so another cairn about a day’s walk from the village. This cairn lies near an iron mine that went dry about 50 years ago. The mine’s charter lapsed when its manager died a few years later. Situated in a sort of no-man’s land, the cairn was all but forgotten, its yawning entrance overgrown with weeds and choked with debris. Rediscovered by a curious teenager a decade ago, the cairn has since been a sort of community secret held by Diamond Lake’s youth, who dare each other to disappear into its cyclopean entrance to prove their bravery.
Occasionally, when the wind is just right, haunting, almost magical tones emerge from the depths of the forlorn tomb. Those who know of its location call it the Whispering Cairn. If adventurers from the Free City expect to discover hidden passages and riches within the Stirgenest Cairn, it stands to reason that the Whispering Cairn might also hold a genuine opportunity for profit. In the rough-and-tumble village of Diamond Lake, an opportunity for profit is an opportunity to escape.
For one reason or another you have all spent the evening at Zalamandra's Emporium, a tavern/ vice den/ gambling hall/ freak show frequented by the hard-living miners of Diamond Lake. Whether there to drink, eavesdrop, work, sightsee, or simply to wager on rats and tiny spear-wielding jermlaine fight it out in a table-top maze, you have got together and decided that you will give it a shot...
----------------------------------------------
The next day the 6 of you had assembled on the Company Road leading North East of the town past one of the may abandoned mines that dot the surrounding hills.
The entrance is a wide monolith lined portal partially obscured by brush and shrubs. Natural light dimly illuminates the hallway extending North into the hill side and the darkness. A faint breeze brings with it sibilant whispers that sound almost like sighing breath or whispered faint dreams. It must be a trick of the wind but it is spooky nonetheless and for those not local to the town its obvious where the Whispering Cairn got its name.
The walls are smooth and bear horizontal bands of deceptively simple geometric patterns at waist level. In places the bands reveal startling detail, in others the rigours of time have eroded them or it appears that successive years of frustrated adventurers have hacked away at them. Flakes of ancient paint, brilliant purple and mustard yellow still cling to the wall in places hinting at once what must have been a riot of colour. Now a thin coat of dust just overs the floor and clings to the walls.
Just inside the darkened tomb the hallway branches into shallow alcoves to the east and west but beyond that the darkness swallows up any further detail.
The strangely smooth pattered marble walls give a corridor 20ft wide and 20tall that vanishes into darkness some 60ft ahead of you. About 50ft ahead you can see branching alcoves opening to the left and right...
You may Begin!