Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: djb6@ellis.uchicago.edu (Dennis Brennan) Subject: [NTY] Delving through the hoar of fifteen centuries Message-ID: <1993Jul19.045202.17880@midway.uchicago.edu> Date: Mon, 19 Jul 1993 04:52:02 GMT [Taken from Gunther Toodie's personal diary, date Alhander 12, 3696 by the Rameshander reckoning] --If I ever thought that Pashar was bad, the heat in this place is tenfold more oppressive. By camel we traveled for three days from Dansusha'ar upon the ancient route favored by the local breed of porters and tradesmen. We stopped at one grubby oasis to replenish our supply of water. I had, of course, taken the precaution of storing several drums of water in my enchanted chest, but riding on the back of a camel is wearisome and the rest was welcome. Four days before our arrival at the camp outside Alamatar the celebrated Pillar of Nehayan was already visible like an accusing finger thrust into the sky. It is said that the old Empire of Ahmey grew so haughty] in its days of vigor that its champions challenged the very Gods themselves on the field of combat- and won some of these challenges. The Ahmeyans constructed splendid monuments as testament to their own greatness- most splendid among these was the astonishingly tall Pillar. I feel sure that the Gods intended it ass some kind of ironic joke that this Pillar should now mark nothing but the trackless desolate wastes which surround it. Perhaps it was here that the Bard of Staveland was moved to compose the Ballad of Ozymandias... The "camp", as Sirroch had described it, was nothing more than a conglomeration of tents surrounding a hole in the ground. Yet this meager operation inspired in me a thrill- an expectation of winning some vast treasure. The plan here was so much different than at Spec'Gems- here, the unwary miners and adventurers were optimistic about the prospects of personal gain- a far cry from that miserable chattel in the north who implemented every base device to escape their daily labours. Their naive optimism was fortunate, annd would hopefully prove to be a valuable instrument in coercing them to recklessly endanger themselves as would be necessary. Naturally, if their brave endeavours bore any fruit I would appropriate their prize and dispose of the hapless adventurer unlucky enough to be serendipitous. Not all of the crew was so expendable, ofFrom Pashar I was accompanied by a scholar of Ahmeyan glyphs and carvings- a personal friend of Sirroch by the name of Sadaget. I also had a personal bodyguard- an immense Parahander slave by the name of Crussen- with whom I shared the true nature of my mission and genuinely offered to compensate largely for his cooperation... Our first supply train from Orluccar had taken the liberty of wandering lost in the desert for two weeks before stumbling across the camp, so our initial delve was delayed. For his incompetence, I "invited" the captain of this supply train to be lantern-scout for the expedition. His cries kupon stumbling into a lair of large scorpions just inside the hole were a sourcee of much mirth and entertainment among the expedition... I write this from a large burial chamber almost a half-mile from the entrance hole. We have discovered breathtaking wonders in this ancient place- cunningly dug corridors, shrines to forgotten spirits, even portions of vast palaces and residences. If what we now explore are the mere catacombs of the former city above, it difficult to imagine how magnificent this city must have been beforee. Before... before what? This question has been nagging on my mind since I set foot on this territory- why did this grand and powerful empire collapse? On a more practical note, we have found little of tangible value to our sponsors back in Pashar. The fabled coffers of gold and gems for which we had all lusted are, for the time being, conspicuously absent. Nevertheless, Sadaget's studies of inscriptions and texts found here indicate that we may not be far off from the "motherlode" as it were. Present, however, are the infinite tiny glowing eyes which peer at us as we pass from countless small fissures and apertures. From time to time a member of our company vanishes, presumably carried off by the little things that lurk in the unlit spaces. Crussen calls the things "Khoboldi", a term fsome local species of goblin or holle- lurking creature, but their tactics are unlike any goblin known to me. Of late also some of the more superstitious members of the company have been reporting... other sounds, which they do not associate with the activity of the "Khoboldi". The more sophisticated among us dismiss theseese as fanciful elaborations on the chittering of the mundane gremlins which plague us like a nuisance. Soon we will resume our progress toward the southeast (the direction from which these sounds are most often reported) and we will seehether there is any merit to these craven protestations.... ...so far, surprisingly, we have encountered no trace of the expeditions preceding ours. Not a dropped piece of equipment, not a spot of blood, not even chalk markings indicating their way of passage. Eagle-eyed Crussen even observed that there is no soot from burnt torch-pitch on the ceilings of this place beyond that for wich we can held accountable. I idly speculated that the domesticcs and maidservants of long-dead Ahmeyan nobles yet tidy these chambers, fifteen hundred years after their last payday... -- Dennis Brennan djb6@midway.uchicago.edu