The wizard's voice brings Dax back to the reason he is standing in this room that he is certain should not fit in the tower.

"Malivoire has it right. Everyone in Aerik knows of the Barrowmoor, and everyone has heard stories of the Barrowmaze within the moor. It's said to be older than any part of Aerik...the tunnels are a maze where the dead walk in undeath...and they are said to be full of treasures!"

The ranger shifts his baldric and taps his fingers on the hilt of his sword. He nods toward the dwarf, "The Barrowmaze has claimed the lives of many treasure-seekers...the reward for going there would have to be very handsome."

The young knight's spine seemed to stiffen just a little at the conversation. He tilted his face slightly heavenward and murmured something quietly though the rumble of his deep voice was evidence of his utterance.

"A bog afoul with anathema," Sir Dryvyk replied to the question. "A blight upon the land indeed... and one which shall one day be cured!" The pious warrior's eyes appeared to blaze as this was spoken with such fervor.

"Histories of holy men reveal that indeed certain artifacts of the faith have been lost therein, some legends of antiquity and others more recent, victims of foolishness and pride."

Without condescension, Barnabus declaims, "Mystics, seers, fakirs, dervishes, prophets -- our eyes behold the mysteries of this world and others."

Smiling, he concedes that it's probably why they don't receive too many dinner invitations.

Gwendolyn glances up towards Dax when he briefly directs his attention to her. His name seems vaguely familiar but, before she can recollect further on it, the Sorcerer speaks up again and so she returns her attention back to listening to him.

She listens as the others speak their minds as well. She's heard rumors and tales, but little more. Still, she's willing to hear the Sorcerer's proposal out.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:57, Thu 14 Oct 2021.

Mazzahs nods in understanding of Ishmael’s concern.

”Anything that provides insight into the history of the people who built the barrows, scrolls or tablets for example, I will pay three hundred gold for. Any item specifically associated with funerary practices; death masks, canoptic jars, and the like, I would pay five hundred gold apiece. Any item that bears any manner of magical enchantment I would pay not less than one thousand gold for, quite likely more, depending upon its properties. Any of these things that are especially well preserved, I will be apt to pay a greater amount for.”

The wizard steps over to the window that overlooks the village. “This entire region was populated in ancient times by a culture whose secrets are lost to us. Made up primarily of humans, from what we’ve been able to surmise. Helix itself was built on the ruins of a far larger settlement, one that had been abandoned thousands of years before.”

“As best any can determine, the tomb complex on the moor was the creation of those who lived here before. It has remained undisturbed for centuries. Some of those who founded Helix discovered it quite by accident. It wasn’t long after that that the first group of ambitious grave robbers arrived.”

He turns back to his guests. ”If you have heard of the tombs, you’ve most certainly heard the recent stories. The dead wandering the mist covered moor. They are not mere rumors, but they do not tell the whole tale of what is occurring there.”

“The dead are indeed without rest there. But it is not the mindless activity that many of their kind seem to exhibit. Certainly, some merely mill about without direction but many of them demonstrate some sort of organization, as if they are working together toward some greater purpose. Somewhere within the maze, there is a source of terrible power. I am able to sense it, and I fear that it is at the center of the actions of the undead.”

The wizard sighs. ”The greatest concern is this: that what is happening among the tombs might present a threat to the living. That the innocents here in Helix, and throughout the Duchy, would eventually be imperiled by whatever has awakened there.”

“That is why I seek your help. Understand, even were you to return from your foray empty handed, all that you witnessed would be of value, and I would pay generously for each of your stories. Though, I would be genuinely surprised if you came back with nothing. There is undoubtedly a great deal of wealth hidden away in those tombs. Anything that you found that did not pertain to my study of the place would be yours to keep.”

Dax's fingers stopped tapping on his sword hilt as the wizard spoke. He had heard the recent rumours of the undead, but the wizard's telling made it more ominous, more real.

~By Herne's Horns! He is offering a lot of coin! Perhaps I will be able to earn enough for mom to buy a house in Ironguard Motte!~ he thought to himself.

"It sounds to be a reasonable sum to me!" he said out loud.

Barnabus had listened to the wizard's monologue from start to end without blinking. He makes up for it with a spasm of eyelid fluttering.

"The dead do pose a threat to the living. The living pose a threat to all," he produces, "the difference being that the latter can be satiated."

His serious moods rarely last more than a sentence or two and he reverts to form, "And how much might a catafalque fetch on the Muzzahs market?"

The half-orcs eyes squint in scrutiny as Muzzah explained his proposal. "How we know you have big money like that? Seems unlikely looking at the outside of your tower."

Malivoire shot a glance at Grugar, somewhat embarrassed by the challenging question from the half-orc. "What would make you doubt Mazzahs' word?  The inside of the tower is clearly much more than the outside presents.  There is much more here than outward appearances.  That alone should give you faith."

He didn't add that should Mazzahs not be able to pay, that they could simply keep the treasure for themselves or find another buyer in the capital.  To say so out loud in front of their prospective patron would be rude.

Barnabus piles on, "He has a chiropteran butler in his service. What do you know of butlers let alone bat butlers? When you have a tower stacked to the rafters with bat butlers, then, just then, maybe you can question the depths of a person's pocketbooks."

As she listens to the Sorcerer's offer, she is inwardly surprised by the large amounts he is offering, but keeps it to herself. 500gp could easy play for a year's worth of quality food and lodging.

After he is done, she speaks up and says, "Other than bringing us together and pointing us in a general direction, what support are you offering us to go on this risky venture? Are there any maps or other knowledge you can provide us? Supplies, such as food and water? A beast of burden to carry any extra gear and supplies there, and then to help carry back any recovered items? What tools or special gear might we need?"

Mazzahs mutters a few guttural words, making a pair of flowing gestures with his left hand as he does so. A portal materializes in the center of the room within moments, its borders fringed with shimmering light. Beyond the doorway, the adventurers can see a long, ornately carved table, upon which rest a number of staves and wands. Arranged beneath and around the table are chests and coffers. Some stand open, revealing that they hold gold, electrum, and platinum coins, along with numerous gems, both cut and uncut.

Mazzahs makes a sharp motion with his hand, prompting the portal to vanish. ”I am not so foolish to keep the wealth that I have gathered here. Though this place is extremely well warded, one never knows how determined a group of reavers might be. This spire bears its dilapidated appearance for a reason. It is so that visitors to Helix will dismiss it as the abode of an eccentric old man with a failing mind.”

He smiles wryly at the priest. ”I suppose its value would be predicated upon any magical properties it might possess,” he tells Barnabus, ”and whose coffin it had borne in days past.”

Mazzahs nods in response to Gwendolyn’s queries. ”A reasonable concern. There is a young ranger here in Helix who has served as a guide to others wishing to venture into the Barrowmoor. I have secured his services along with that of the local bowyer, a brave elven fellow well acquainted with the wilderness here. Each summer, he is one of the few that enter the Blackened Forest to gather the silk left by the gigantic spiders that reside there. They will escort you to the tombs and will ensure that you are made familiar with certain landmarks that would assist you in finding your way back to Helix, should necessity dictate that you return early.”

“Billworth Turgen, owner of the local mercantile, has set aside a horse and cart for your use. The guides will meet you with it at a time that you mutually agree upon for your return to Helix. Any supplies you require for the expedition itself may be obtained from Master Turgen and I will pay him for what you have procured.”

He shakes his head. ”If there are maps of the catacombs, I have yet to locate any that were genuine. Had I been able to do so, I would certainly have provided them to you.”

Dax's eyes opened wide at the riches displayed by the wizard through the portal. ~Although it could just as easily have been an illusion!~ he thought.

He leans toward, Malivoire and whispers, "Was that a portal to his treasure room, or just an illusory image?"


The ranger whispers to Malivoire again, "He is offering free equipment to us all! Surely he must expect a return on his outlay.

I am ready to join, what about you?"

Malivoire's eyes were still wide when Dax leaned in close.  "No illusion," he breathed in wonderment, "that was a true gate to a treasure room."  He was agog at the jewels and coins and other valuables of course, but again as much as the magic that had just been displayed.  To have such abilities at one's command left him a little weak at the knees.

Upon hearing the other arrangements from Mazzahs, Malivoire answered his old friend's second question aloud for all to hear.  "All of that sounds quite adequate to me," he announced.  "I will join the exploration to the barrows."

The money would of course be welcome, the chance to find magics and artifacts even more so, but the chance to align with a magician of Mazzahs' apparent caliber was the most alluring to the elven mage.  With such a mentor he could learn much in the ways of magic, enough that he could pursue his legacy with confidence.

Sir Dryvyk had been quiet, listening and watching the reactions of those gathered as well as judging the sincerity of their host. Though he found the revealed horde certainly very interesting, he was more intrigued by the possibilities of what he might gain for the Church... as well as certain advantages such discoveries might afford himself.

"Master Mazzahz, I'm no common grave robber, to the contrary, I feel that the plundering of sacred tombs is wrong. However, from every report and my own experience in this region, the Barrowmoor is corrupt or has been terribly defiled. I will join this expedition on a few conditions."

His voice was firm and strong but not overbearing, "The first being that holy relics true and undefiled, shall eventually find new sanctification and rest when your research is completed. Further, those being found befouled of chaos and evil... you will allow to be subsequently destroyed after said research is complete. Second, if there be artifacts of interest to the Church, that She might have first right of refusal in the purchase, trade, or perhaps more properly, your donation thereof to the Order. Finally, I would reserve to my custody any familial heirlooms that may be recovered. Drakeholme is an ancient family in the region and no doubt certain scions might have a history with the Barrowmoor."

"If this is acceptable, then I am at your service in this undertaking."

Gurgar was still skeptical that the magic portal to untold riches was just more tricks. But in the end it didn't matter to him. If they found valuables in those haunted lands, they could always keep them for themselves if the crazy wizard couldn't pay. Still seemed to good to be true without some sort of catch, but that was far beyond Grugar's mental capacity to figure out what that caveat might be. The half-orc shrugged. "Count Grugar in."

The dwarf's eyes did widen a little at the view through the portal.  It was certainly a good starting place, though like most things, they need to be verified.  Still, it was a better offer than he'd gotten in a while, and supplies to start out with is just a bonus. "As ya know, dwarfs seldom lose their feet.  If there's not a map, there will be when we return." He says.

Gwendolyn listens attentively as the Sorcerer replies to all their questions and concerns. She's not as impressed by his arcane displays as some of the others appear to be, but she understands the usefulness of magic.

When all is said, she finds nothing unreasonable about his proposition. While she's not a particularly greedy person, it certainly doesn't hurt to earn some gold coin to fill her coin purse with.

She looks at each other others as they reply and then turns to face the Sorcerer. "Your proposal is agreeable," she answers Mazzahs.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:12, Thu 21 Oct 2021.

"And you can count Barnabus in as well," chirps the same, indulging his penchant for mimicry again.

Dax suddenly realises that he has not spoken his decision aloud!

"Dax Moonblade is also at your service, Master Mazzahs."

Mazzahs listens attentively when Sir Dryvyk speaks. Nodding after the knight outlines his requests, the wizard answers, “I don’t take issue with anything that you ask. I am not seeking to gather a collection, but rather to find information regarding something that may threaten us all. The church is welcome to any relics that might be of importance to them and I would be glad of their assistance in seeing anything of a malevolent nature destroyed.”

A look of relief crosses the aged man’s features as each of the adventurers agree to join.  ”I am most pleased that you are willing to undertake this expedition. I have taken the liberty of securing rooms for you at the Brazen Strumpet, the inn here in Helix. In the morning, you can meet with Billworth Turgen at Turgen’s Trade Goods to obtain any provisions and equipment that you require. I will ask for your guides to find you there.”

He pauses, then adds, ”Should you ask about the tombs at the tavern, you’re apt to hear all manner of stories. Be cautious about what you choose to believe.”

He waves a hand and a group of seven leather pouches materialize on one of the nearby work tables. ”A small advance for each of you,” he explains.

OOC: Each pouch contains 25 gold pieces.

"Thank you Mazzahs," Malivoire said respectfully, before sweeping up the pouch of coins and then stepping back from the table.  When the rest had similarly collected the advance, the elven mage looked at his newly confirmed companions.

"Shall we make our goodbyes and head into town to finish preparations?"

Like a striking snake, Gwendolyn's hand reaches out and snatches one of the small pouches up off the table. She looks inside as she slowly steps back from the table. She smiles as she sees the shiny gold contents held within. She gives Grugar a wide grin and a thumbs up with her left hand before closing the pouch again and tucking it away inside her clothes.

She says to the Sorcerer, "Everything seems in order. Good day to you then, Sorcerer Mazzahs." She gives him a courteous little bow of gratitude, looking at him with bright eyes and a smile on her cute face, and turns to depart.

As she walks past Grugar, she gently smacks his leg with her small hand and says up to him, "Ale and hot food is a waiting, Orc Grugar. Better hurry before I drink and eat it all up." She smiles in jest as she passes on by. Going down the stairs is easier than going up.

Dax's eyes widen in wonder as the leather pouches appear on the table with the pleasant clink of coins. He has seen magicks throughout his life, but the casual use of what appear to the ranger to be fairly potent spells makes him suspect that his new mentor if far more powerful than any mage he has previously met.

Dax picks up one of the pouches and gives a slight bow to the wizard, "Your generosity is appreciated."

"Dinner is in order!"

Sir Dryvyk reached reluctantly for his pouch of coins, his hesitance seemed the symptom of some inner conflict. "It will be well spent toward the accomplishment of our mission in the cursed moor," he said with conviction.

He turned to follow the others out of the tower, his composure and tolerance of the powerful magicks nearing their end.