The ringing of small bells hung in the breeze, the only sound to be heard in the courtyard as Graven and his companions meditated.  Above, clouds scudded across the blue sky, the sun shining brightly, reflecting off the neatly-raked sand of the meditation garden.  Graven’s eyes flicked open and he looked around for the tenth time in as many minutes, his thoughts unsettled.  He had traveled from the temple of Istus in Greyhawk to the residence of Elluvar Moonmeadow in Diamond Lake in the hopes of getting to speak to one knowledgeable in the ways of the Lady of Fate, and still hadn’t had a chance to truly speak with Master Moonmeadow in depth.  At war with his elven nature, Graven was impatient, knowing that things were taking place that were not acceptable in this world and wishing to get on with stopping them from happening.

Then again, that was one of the reasons he was in the meditation garden at this time.  Isendur, one of Master Moonmeadow’s companions, had suggested he learn patience by trying to meditate on the serenity of all things.  This garden was here to foster just such thoughts.  And yet, beyond the walls, Graven knew that there were filthy miners working in terrible conditions for a few silver pieces a day, and that beyond this tiny morseeli town, evil was afoot.

Taught by a radical sect of Istus that shared more with Wee Jas’ teachings than Istus’ teachings, Graven felt that Fate had its plan, and that altering fate or evading one’s true destiny was a sin worthy of destruction.  Taught predominantly in the ways of defeating the undead and those who create them, Graven’s soul burned at the very thought that such creatures existed and that those who had been gifted with the fires of life might spend their days either creating monsters from those whom Fate had taken back into Her arms or trying to avoid that destiny altogether by becoming liches or mummies.

Forcing himself to calm once more as his blood seethed at the thought, he looked across at the other three in the courtyard.  Not far away, clad in the revealing gowns she wore when not armored for battle, sat Lauryl, whose name was actually Erumrae.  The daughter of an elven priest of Eilistraee and a converted priestess of the dark elves known as Drow, Lauryl (who took that name since it was easier for non-Elves to say) was a priestess of the goddess of the dance, her satin gray skin glowing faintly in the daylight, her snow white hair falling to her waist in pluming falls, gathered into a top-knot at the back of her head to keep it out of her way and allowed to fall freely from there.  Nearby sat Ielena in her black armless and legless bodysuit.  The rapier and bow she normally carried was in her room and her bare legs caught his eyes, curled beneath her.  Her blonde hair was also pulled back, this time in a ponytail that reached nearly to mid-back.  Beside her, dressed in the drab greens and browns of his forest clothing, Avlan looked half-asleep, his eyes half-lidded, his head tilted back so as to look up at the sky.  His handsome features were slack at the moment, his hands firmly pressed into his knees.

“How was it that we came to be with one another again,” he asked himself, giving up on his meditation and looking at the others.  Each was a traveler from another place, having been sent to this dung-heap of a town on the edge of a filthy lake, where the flesh of the earth was torn out and carted to the surface, to be fired and hardened for transport to other places, where the actual creative work was done to make it into something useful.  Lauryl had come in response to a vision quest given to her one night by her goddess.  Ielena and Avlan were friends from childhood, come to work for Master Moonmeadow per their parent’s instruction.  And here he was, sitting with them, doing nothing despite the knowledge that he had come to learn and thus far, learned nothing.

His thoughts were interrupted as one of the doors to the main residence opened and Isendur stepped out, resplendent in his robes of silver and blue.  Moving quietly across the courtyard, he stopped in front of Graven (who had closed his eyes in false meditation) and waited.  After a moment, Graven opened his eyes and looked up, to find Isendur frowning.

“It does not bode well that you cannot even find relaxation in meditation,” Isendur said, shattering the silence and causing the other three to open their eyes.

“There is much to be done,” Graven replied simply.  “This is a waste of time.”

“I found it quite rejuvenating,” Lauryl said, smiling at their current taskmaster.

Ielena yawned and stretched, grinning.  “A nap in the middle of the morning is always nice,” she said.

Avlan simply opened his eyes and waited, not moving from the meditative position while the others stood and stretched.

“Yes,” Isendur conceded.  “Much to be done.  As always, you are a surprise, Graven.  How like the Humans you disdain you can be, yet retain our qualities.  I am uncertain how that is so.”

Graven’s anger threatened to burst from his throat, but he kept himself quiet for the moment.  Like a Human!?  How dare he!  Instead, he said, “Fate will have its way with all who live, Master Isendur.  We have longer lives to live than the Humans, but that does not mean we should waste more time than they are allowed in this world doing nothing useful.”

Isendur eyed him while the others shook their heads.  Graven had been like this since he arrived.

“Have you ever considered the idea that the reason you have not been taken to see Master Moonmeadow was that your impatience might be wearying to him?” Lauryl asked suddenly.  “Perhaps you are too much like a Human in that sense to spend prolonged time with him.”

The words were spoken in question and with no ill intent, but Graven flicked his eyes to the half-Drow and stuck there, pinning her in their merciless stare.  Unlike others, however, Lauryl was made of stern stuff, her belief in her goddess giving her the strength to simply stare back.  She, after all, had spent more than a few evenings in private conversation with the master of the compound.

After a moment, Graven nodded.  Never one to deny logic, he found himself agreeing suddenly.  “You could be right.”

“On that note,” said Isendur, “I have come to you with a purpose this day.  Your time here has been spent doing the lesser duties of the residence and you have all fulfilled them admirably. However, at this time, Master Moonmeadow has another purpose for you.  If you will follow me.”  Isendur turned from them and crossed the courtyard, not bothering to look back as the others followed.

The interior of the mansion was done in light woods, with plenty of windows to allow light in.  Plants grew in niches along the walls and paintings hung here and there, depicting elven scenes of beauty to inspire and enlighten the viewer.  Isendur led them through a number of smaller conversation rooms to a larger chamber near the middle of the building.  It was a library, and across one of the tables was spread a map of Diamond Lake.  A number of tokens had been spaced across it, both to keep it down and to mark places of interest.  Graven and his companions had seen this map regularly, since it was never moved, but this time, there was a new token, perhaps half a day’s walk from the town in a section noted for having absolutely nothing in it.  Each eyed the map and then each other before turning to look at Isendur.

Master Moonmeadow’s lieutenant eyed them all.  “As you can see, Elluvan has found something of interest and would like to find out more about it.  It appears that not all of the cairns have been entirely investigated, at least so far as he can tell.  Apparently, he was having a conversation with Chief Cartographer Cicaeda and they came across this information.  Since you have all been chafing at the bit to do more than simply wait on us, I thought you might be interested in doing the investigation for him?”

Graven’s response was simply to grin.  The others nodded, looking pleased at the opportunity to do more than simply spend their days in the compound.  Diamond Lake might hold entertainments for the miners who spent their days in the lightless tunnels of the mines, but each of the elves knew that this was little more than a smudge of dirt on the face of Oerth and that there were more enlightening things to be doing (even if it meant spending fruitless hours trying to meditate).

Isendur smiled faintly, having expected the response.  “Very well.  You are to investigate a cairn located perhaps half a day’s walk from Diamond Lake to the north east.  Map it out and bring back anything you find of interest.  There is another troupe of adventurers in town at the moment from the Free City.  If you are smart, you will not reveal to them what you are doing or why.  From what I gather, one of them is a past champion of the Free City Arena, so tangling with them might not do you well.  Am I understood?”

“Yes, Master Isendur,” Lauryl said, nodding.

“We have no quarrel with them,” Avlan replied.  “It should be of no consequence to them what we are about.”

“Unless they get in our way,” Graven commented flatly.

“If they get in your way, as you put it,” Isendur responded, “you will, of course, have to deal with it as you can.  However, Master Moonmeadow has specific interest in this locale.  Keep that in mind.”

“Understood,” said Graven.

“If you need anything before you leave, feel free to drop by the kitchen and the stores.  I wouldn’t want you going unprepared, after all.”

---

As the group moved along the old deer trail that led through the woods away from Diamond Lake, Graven thought over Isendur’s last comment.  “I will meet you just after sunset at this location,” he’d said, pointing to an illustration of a home in the woods.  It was perhaps two-thirds of the way to the new cairn Master Moonmeadow had found and might prove useful.  According to Avlan’s calculations (he was a master of long distance travel in the wilds, Graven had been led to believe), they should be coming up on it shortly.

As the trail followed a bend in the valley they were following, they came into view of the old manor house.  A two story manor that had long since collapsed to one due to age and disrepair, the first floor was made of stone and strong enough to resist whatever might come.  The black openings of broken windows allowed a view inside, some cut off by the thick growth of foliage and trees from a lack of gardening over the years.  

“We need to do this carefully,” suggested Graven.  “An organized approach…”  But it was too late.  Already, Avlan was moving forward and around the left side of the place, sticking to the thicker line of trees to that side of the building.  Ielena stepped to the tree line on the right and disappeared, her bow in one hand as she moved to investigate.  Only Lauryl stood nearby and she smirked at him before heading toward the front door.  “So much for that, then,” he muttered.

Reaching the porch , Lauryl stepped up, causing a creaking sound to ring out that made Graven cringe.  “Master Isendur?” she called, loosing the bastard sword she had slung over one shoulder just in case.  Someone responded from within and Lauryl turned to grin at Graven, who had not moved from the spot they’d first seen the house.  “He’s inside,” she said loud enough to be heard.  A light rustle from the trees to Lauryl’s left announced the appearance of Ielena from the shadows, and Avlan came around the opposite corner.  Graven started moving again as the others went inside.

Once he joined them, Isendur nodded to the lot of them and turned up a lantern he’d had hiding in a nook inside the house.  “I did not want to announce my presence to anyone who might be moving around tonight,” he said by way of explanation.  With the lantern turned up to normal brightness, they could see that the interior of the manor house was just as bad off as the exterior.  The broken windows had allowed moisture in and the walls were dappled with moss, the floorboards gray with age.  A broken pile of wood stood in one back room, with openings onto a kitchen.  The large main room had a stair leading up to the collapsed second level, while another door hung from one badly corroded hinge and opened onto what must have once been an office, telling by the large desk and collapsed shelves within.  Four cots had been set up in the main area, and a small chest stood open nearby, containing blankets, wood for fires and other simple supplies.  Their patron waved his hand, encompassing the place.  “Geravin Vesst once owned this place before he went bankrupt.  No one lays claim to it, and thus it will make a fine base of operations while you explore the Whispering Cairn.  I have brought food and sleeping supplies as you can see, but if you need anything further, you will have to come into town for it.  

I also have this.”  Isendur pulled a satchel he’d had slung over one shoulder off and offered it to Lauryl, who opened it and looked inside.  “Pens, parchment and ink, along with several healing potions in case you are injured while exploring.  Consider them a gift, but use them wisely.  They are not easily replaced.”

“I understand,” Lauryl replied, nodding.  “You have our thanks.”

Isendur smiled and looked at the others.  “Map the cairn and bring back anything you can find that would be of interest to Master Moonmeadow.  I have talked him into trust you with this duty and I am certain you will prove capable.  Stay here tonight and follow the trail down the hill in the morning.  The cairn entrance is not far from there.  Good night.”  Isendur made to leave.

“You’re leaving us out here?” Ielena said, looking at the moss-stained ceiling.

“Come now,” Isendur said, grinning, “It has not been so long since you lived in the wild.  Besides, if you are seen leaving town during the day, others might notice.  Best if you stay here for the night and begin your explorations in the morning.  That is, after all, why I told you to come prepared.”

Ielena shrugged and nodded.

“I’ll get something cooking,” Avlan said quietly.

“Be safe, Isendur,” said Graven.

Isendur raised a hand, “You as well,” he replied.

---

Graven was used to sleeping in cots.  The sect he had studied under felt that deprivation of the body only made one stronger and a cot was sometimes a luxury.  He had never become fully comfortable with the heavy, padded bedding available in the Moonmeadow residence, and on occasion, had even slept on the floor just to remind himself that beds are truly a luxury for some.  The others, however, looked worn and stiff in the morning and spent some time stretching before they were entirely comfortable again.

“Luxuries lead to laxness,” Graven muttered, watching them.

“And all work and no play makes Graven a dull boy,” Ielena replied, grinning as she bent over backwards and did a reverse somersault.  Graven could not help but watch as the motion displayed the young woman’s taught musculature.  It did not help that the one-piece outfit she wore fit incredibly tightly.  That it did not cover much of her legs except where her boots covered her feet only added to the seductive motion.  When she was standing again, he forced himself to look away.  Only to find himself staring at Lauryl as she brushed out the tangles in her hair.  He shook his head and looked outside, where Avlan was making a warm gruel out of the supplies Isendur had left them.

After everyone was warmed up and fed, they shouldered their packs and set off down the path, trusting to fate and Isendur’s knowledge that the place wouldn’t be invaded while they were gone.  Before they left, however, they stored the cots in the pantry in the back of the house, in a corner where outside viewers could not tell anyone had been there.  Avlan covered up his camp fire and they were off.  As promised, the cairn in question was visible a scant ten minutes later, around a bend in the path.  A faint susurration of sound could be heard coming from within the dark entranceway, as if voices whispering in a crowded room.

“I think we know how it got its name,” Graven said evenly.

“How in all the gods’ names did anyone miss this?” Avlan asked, eyeing the mound around the opening.  “We’re less than thirty minutes travel away down a trail even a neophyte can follow!”  He looked around and then snorted, kneeling to examine something in the dirt.  “In fact, it has been found several times, telling by these tracks.”

“Not everyone has your eyes,” Lauryl replied, grinning as the ranger looked up at her.  “Perhaps they thought this was already looted?”

“Perhaps it already has been,” Ielena replied, turning to look at them with a grin on her face.  She was standing by the entrance way, one hand on the glyph-covered stones to either side.  The glyphs were so old and weathered that they could have been anything and they paid them no mind.  “Either way, Master Moonmeadow wants to know what is inside, so in we go!”  Without any further conversation, the slender elf disappeared into the shadows within.

“Ielena!” Graven uttered, grumbling, “We need to go about this intelligently!”  He shook his head.

“I heard that!” the young elf’s voice echoed down the passageway.

“And anything in there heard that, too,” Graven muttered.

Avlan snickered.  “Guess we’d better follow her.”

Lauryl reached back and loosened her bastard sword in its sheath, settling her shield across her left arm and moving slowly inside.  She was whispering prayers to her goddess, Graven noticed.

The whispering sensations seemed to grow louder within the tunnel, as if someone was telling them to go back in some unknown language.  Graven wondered how that had been done, or if this was some sort of ancient magic that had never been deactivated.  There was no sign of Ielena until she reappeared at the edge of the light cast by a torch Graven lit.

“Hey!” she stage-whispered, “Don’t give me away!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, not meaning it at all.  “Perhaps if we knew where you were before you went there, we might avoid such things?”  But it was too late.  Ielena had already disappeared into the shadows.

A series of niches along either side of the hallway held nothing but dust, though one looked like a body had curled up and died there.  Lauryl prodded it with her sword and it crumbled into a pile of dust as well, a few flakes of fabric telling Avlan when he looked through them that it had been a blanket.  “Someone probably left it here when they spent the night out of the rain, perhaps.”  He shrugged and gestured for Ielena (who had moved back to the edges of their light) to continue.  Another niche held an unusual item shaped like part of a broken mirror, but no one could tell what it was.  Ielena noticed an unusual glyph at its base and scribbled it onto a piece of Isendur’s parchment, and they were moving once more.

A set of stairs separated the initial entry hall from a larger intersection below, where a large hallway crossed at right angles.  Directly ahead, a faint green light could be seen, but it was indistinct.  Moving slowly down the stairs, the party discovered the reason for this – the passage ahead was entirely blocked by the silky stuff of spider webs.  As they were about to investigate the left-hand passage, the quiet growl of dogs could be heard.  As they turned, a trio of wolves, one larger than the other two, stepped into the light, fangs bared, eyes glittering in the darkness.

“Hold on,” Avlan said, sheathing his sword.  “I might be able to get them to calm down…”

Before he could, the ranger was set upon by the ravenous wolves, and the halls rang to the clangor of battle.  Avlan went down beneath the onslaught, one arm torn to the bone as he screamed in pain.  Ielena appeared from the shadows and stuck the biggest one with an arrow, drawing its attention her way while Lauryl whipped her sword out of its shoulder scabbard and lashed it across the flank of one of the wolves savaging her friend.  Graven reached down to loosing the spiked war chain about his belt, taking care that the spiked skulls that lined its length did not catch on one another.  When he was ready, he lashed out, knocking the wolf who had taken Avlan down away and ripping a huge gash in the creature’s face.  Quickly, the growls of the wolves turned into the whine of pain, and before long, all three were down.

Avlan lay on the floor, his skin pale as a sheet as he held his left arm, which had been ripped open to expose the bone.  He grit his teeth in silent pain, still lying where he’d fallen.  While Ielena moved to each wolf and made certain they were dead, Lauryl set her blade on the floor and knelt beside him, whispering soothing words that made Graven think of moonlight for some reason.  When the prayer ended, Lauryl’s hands had taken on a silvery glow and Avlan’s injuries faded to a thin scar, the meat regrowing and knitting itself until it was almost as if the wound had never happened.

“You have my thanks,” whispered the ranger, nodding.  “Eilistraee be praised.”

“Eilistraee be praised,” Lauryl replied, smiling.  Standing, she sheathed her blade before offering a hand to help him back to his feet.

“Hey!  There’s a path through the rocks over there,” Ielena said, coming back to the group.

“You’re going to get killed if you keep leaving us without warning,” Graven said darkly.

“If you can’t see me, what makes you think anyone else can?” the young elf replied, grinning.  “Anyway, the wolves had to come from somewhere.  There’s a small tunnel through some rocks over there.  Only place I can think of they could have come from.  Smells foul, so that’s probably it.”

“You are probably right then,” Avlan said, rubbing his arm and fingering the torn leather.  “Need to get that fixed when we get back to town,” he muttered.  More loudly, he asked, “Have you looked inside?”

“Who?  Me?  Tight spaces are not my thing.”  Ielena patted the rapier at her belt.  “Can’t exactly use this in a crawlspace.  What if there are more wolves in there.”

“I’ll go,” Graven said, shaking his head.

“You sure?” Avlan replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not?  If there’s another wolf, I’ll kill it.  It’s not like they looked ready to listen to you when you tried, hmm?”

Avlan opened his mouth to reply and then shut it, nodding.  Nearby, Lauryl watched the interchange and shook her head.  “Just get on with it then, Graven.  No need to insult anyone…”

“But I… Bah!”

---

Graven returned a short time later, smelling like a sodden dog but bearing an old backpack. Inside was a bluish-purple lantern of antique design, a couple of scrolls he’d found in the mess, and an attractive necklace, which Ielena promptly hung about her neck. “No more dogs,” he said, watching the young woman admire the piece of jewelry.

“These are just normal spider webs,” Avlan said, standing near the archway. “There are stairs beyond, and it looks like some sort of green light source below.”

“I wonder if it’s what’s drawn on the wall down there?” Ielena asked, looking down the opposite hall from the dogs’ lair.

Graven glared at her. “What is it?” he asked, sighing.
Ielena looked unrepentant. “A fresco of a domed chamber with a bunch of lanterns in it.”

“I would imagine we’ll have to cut through to find out,” Graven replied in a droll tone.

Seeing no one was about to start the process, Lauryl pulled her blade out once more and began waving it through the webbing. It was thick and descended quite a bit of the way down the steps, leaving her blade enveloped in the stuff, but it provided no resistance and they were soon through. What met their eyes beyond the webs was a sight out of antiquity.

A large domed chamber met their eyes, with short passageways leading in a variety of directions. Directly ahead of them, a large lantern matching the one Graven had found lit the chamber, with similar lanterns hung in other passages adding their own colors. The vault above was studded with glittering stones, making it look like an open night sky hung over a huge sarcophagus decorated with the raised image of a individual lying in state. Two of the lanterns were missing, and the sarcophagus, it turned out, was shaped somewhat like an arrow pointing to the green lantern.

“Impressive tomb,” Avlan whispered, awed by the majesty of the chamber and the work it had taken to create it.

“Worthy of someone important,” Ielena replied quietly, nodding.

“The rainbow,” Lauryl whispered, looking around at the lanterns.

“What?” The others turned to look at her curiously.

“The lanterns are arranged in the pattern of a rainbow, only two of them are missing. Look.” She pointed. “Red should be there. Orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, which is in your pack, Graven, and violet. The lanterns all look alike, and they match the one you found.”

“Grave robbers, then,” Graven concluded, growling beneath his breath.

“What?” Ielena said, looking sharply at him. “We’ve not taken anything!”

“Not yet, no,” Graven replied curtly. “Someone else has been here and attempted to leave with some of the lanterns. We found the indigo one in a pack. They must have been killed by the wolves when they entered their lair.” Reaching back, he pulled the pack containing the indigo lantern off his belt where he’d hung it for safekeeping and produced the large lantern. Nearly as big as his torso, it was quite heavy and looked large enough to hold a torch.

“Let me see that,” Ielena said, taking it from him when he offered it. Turning it around for a moment, she discovered that the top slid away, allowing access to the interior, which held a pair of rings to support the torch that went inside. Taking Graven’s torch, she set it into the brackets and swung the top closed, hearing a soft click as she did so. “There.”

“Wonderful. That is our light source, Ielena,” said Graven.

“But not our only one,” Lauryl answered. Uttering a soft prayer, she touched the holy symbol on her chest, which started to glow with a silvery light, as if the moon were full around them.

“Interesting gifts your lady offers,” Avlan said, eyeing the now-glowing symbol.

“The Lady of the Dance and the moon are closely entwined,” Lauryl said reverently. “I but asked for a bit of her radiance.”

“That works. See?” Ielena grinned at Graven and then jogged off to hang the lantern from a chain hanging at the end of the short hall Lauryl had suggested. Upon her return, she eyed her handiwork. “We just need to find the red one, then.”

“Why?” asked Graven.

“Who knows? Maybe it’s some sort of locking mechanism for the sarcophagus? Or something interesting will happen? Maybe the vault holding all the treasure will open up and spill our a world’s worth of wealth on us?”

“Now, you’re dreaming,” Graven muttered.

Ielena smirked. “Life is all about dreams,” she replied. “It’s the fun ones you want to recreate.”
“I could argue with you about that, but I doubt it is worth it.”

Ielena stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re no fun, Graven.”

“I try not to be.”

Lauryl shook her head. “Now, what about this sarcophagus?”

“It looks like it has something to do with the layout of the room,” Avlan said, kneeling beside it and looking at its unadorned sides. “It’s too plain to be the true resting place of anyone worthy of deserving a chamber like this. And there are strange markings on its sides. I think it moves.”

---

Moving the sarcophagus was not easy, but was doable. For their first attempt, they turned it to face the yellow lantern, resulting in a strange stone cylinder to rise up beneath the lantern itself before a door slid open inside. Ielena stepped inside and looked around. It was just big enough for two people to stand close by one another, but that meant there wouldn’t be enough strength above to move the sarcophagus.

“Send me down and I’ll take a look around,” she suggested. “If there’s anything interesting, we can figure out some way to explore it together.”

“I don’t like the idea of you going down there alone,” Graven said somberly.

“Why?” the young elf said, grinning. “Afraid you’ll never get to spend any more time with me?”

Graven smiled faintly, amused at the thought. “There is a certain aspect of truth to that, yes.”

Ielena leaned over and kissed him on the nose. “Well, this is the sort of thing I do, so get used to it. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Avlan snickered at the exchange and prepared to push the sarcophagus. That seemed to be the only way to make the thing go back into the ground, after all. After a moment, Graven and Lauryl joined him, but before they could move it, the vault began to close on its own.

“WAIT!” Graven called, but again, it was too late. With a sound of rumbling stone, the vault descended back into the ground and Ielena was gone. “We have to get her back!”

“The only way to make it come back up is to move the sarcophagus,” Avlan said, starting to push. “Let’s put it back where it was and then go back for Ielena.”

“Right.”

With some straining, the sarcophagus moved again, back to point at the green lantern. Again, the grinding noise that accompanied the rise of the vault Ielena had stepped into took place, only this time, the floor shook and the grinding got worse. With a sudden crashing sound, the vault rose out of the floor, only to sit there amidst rising bits of dust.

Graven and the others eyed the vault, and then went to turn the sarcophagus again, but before they could, the vault sank back into the hole it had risen out of, but this time, it did not go peacefully. With a grating rumble and the cracking of stone, the vault collapsed back into the hole! The others eyed it with curiosity, the sarcophagus momentarily ignored.

“That was a magnificent failure,” Avlan commented dryly.

“I hear something,” Lauryl said, tilting her head. They all could when they concentrated on it. A buzz mixed with the sounds of skittering, rising from the hole the vault had ripped in the floor.

“That doesn’t sound particularly inviting,” Graven said, pulling his chain off his belt. Avlan and Lauryl prepared as well.

But none of them were ready for what happened…

---

Ielena waited while the sliding sounds and the slowly descending feeling disappeared, reaching up to where she had tied a sunrod to her outfit and pulling it off. Scraping it against the wall, the alchemical reactions swiftly set the thing alight and she hung it through a loop hanging off her rapier’s scabbard. The interior of the cylinder was plain and unadorned, with nothing saying where she was going or what she would see when she got there. Pulling her blade, she kept it loose at her side, rolling her shoulders to prepare to leap out and roll in case something was waiting for her.

The door slid aside, revealing a small chamber lined with carvings of people that matched the one on the sarcophagus and stuck partway out of the wall. They looked to be revering one of their number in particular, but Ielena quickly disregarded them. They were no threat.

After a quick look around, she realized there would be no threat in this place, since the only exit from the room she found herself in was blocked by a large stone block that reached nearly to the top of the opening that obviously led from here. A dark stain on the floor and a matching hole in the ceiling told her that a trap had been set off. The victim was beneath the stone, no doubt.

Unfortunately, the stone blocked off her only avenue of exploration. Turning back to the vault, she looked upward expectantly.

“Any time now,” she whispered…

---

The opening in the floor exploded in a gout of black, glittering things and hissing liquids that stained the stone yellow. The buzzing of thousands of insects filled the air as Graven and the others backed away quickly. They crawled out around the edge of the opening, they flew in random directions, they clung to the walls, and everywhere they went, they left a yellow trail of sizzling acid that ate into anything they touched.

“Stay away from them!” Avlan said, backing away and pulling out his blades. A two-blade fighter, he held a longsword and matching shortsword in his hands, ready to defend himself if necessary. Lauryl’s blade slid from its scabbard and went into a ready position even while Graven looped his war chain around his fists and made ready to smash into the swarm.

A moment for the bugs to realize where they were, and then they began to advance on the only source of food they saw – the party members.

Blades were swung and the chain rattled out, batting hundreds of the creatures from the air. But still, they came on. Avlan was quickly surrounded, his cries of pain echoing in the chamber as the acid they exuded ate through his armor and began to tear at his skin. Hundreds of the creatures landed on him, biting and crawling beneath his leathers. Lauryl too, howled in pain as the things surrounded her. Graven’s chain swatted them by the score, but the swarm was too big, with too many tiny creatures within it to truly be affected.

His friends screaming in pain, Graven fell upon the twin vials he carried at his belt. A mixture of reddish liquid with the gold of some sort of alchemical creation, he plucked them off his belt, yelled for his friends to dive out of the way, and threw them at the ground at the base of the swarm. Lauryl and Avlan dove, batting at their faces as the vials impacted the ground and exploded into gouts of flame that charred and ate at the bugs.

Still, the creatures came on.

“Retreat!” Graven yelled. But Lauryl had succumbed to the creatures and lay beneath their swarming bodies, not moving while Avlan stumbled about, trying to see through the miasma of pain and acid eating away at his body. Taking a deep breath, Graven dove into the swarm, swept Lauryl up from the ground and ran as fast as he could. Avlan followed, and they fled up the stairs, away from the creatures, that seemed content to swarm about, lapping up what they’d stolen from Lauryl and Avlan’s bodies, though some continued to follow.

“They are mindless,” Avlan grunted, wiping crushed beetles away from his face as they ran toward the entrance to the cairn. “Once we get past the reach of their senses, they will cease chasing us.”

“Then we run,” Graven said, ignoring the burning sensation the acid creatures had left on him when he’d rescued Lauryl. She still breathed, telling by the gentle rise and fall of her chest, but she was badly burned and would need the healing touch of Istus before it was over.

They reached the whispering entrance to the cairn and looked back, pausing. Trying to control their panicked breath, they listened for the creatures following them. When, after a few strained moments, they realized all they could hear was the whispering words of the entryway, they calmed, looking Lauryl over.

“She is stunned, I think,” Graven said, setting her down on the dirt outside. Reaching up, he took his symbol of Istus, Lady of Our Fate, into his hands and began whispering a soft chant he’d learned long ago. The burns faded, the bite marks across Lauryl’s gray skin closing to tiny puckers that dimpled her and would disappear over time, and the half-Drow opened her eyes and looked around. Panic struck then, and she thrashed, moving away and looking about in panic.

“Beetles!” she cried, eyes going wide as she looked about.

“It is alright, Lauryl. We have escaped them!” Avlan called.

The words had their intended affect and she looked about. “Where is Ielena?”

“By the Seldarine!” Avlan cursed. “Ielena is still in there!”

Graven turned and glared at the shadowed entrance to the Whispering Cairn. “We will come back for her. We will need more fire than I had on me at the time. She will understand.”

---

While Lauryl and Avlan recovered from their injuries, Graven headed into town to purchase some more of the bottled fire he’d used in the battle, along with several pints of oil.  On the way back, he took bits of string and tied a bottle of the liquid fire to a pint of oil, in the hopes of spreading the conflagration that would result from a toss.  That would see those damned bugs!

Meanwhile, belowground, Ielena realized something terrible must have happened when a distant rumble could be heard.  Searching desperately for a way to activate the vault from within, she realized she was trapped unless and until someone opened it up.  Praying that her friends were alright, she sat down for a bit, but soon enough, she found herself scouring the walls for interesting details and staring at the stone that had fallen from the ceiling.

Soon after, she discovered the fact that some of the faces in the statuary had holes in them, where something must apparently come out.  “Trap,” she whispered, eyeing the stone and wondering what else had filled the chamber when it had fallen.  Determined to find out, she moved to the stone and began to investigate it, pulling herself up to look through the opening at its top and thrusting the sunrod through to light up the chamber beyond.  Little more than a hallway with niches filled with statues, it did little to sate her curiosity.  Thus, she was secure in the knowledge that Graven would likely be angry as the nine hells when she climbed the stone and slithered through the tiny opening, removing her tool belt and weapons and shoving them through before following wearing little more than her bodysuit and boots.

She fell to the ground with a soft tap and began replacing her gear, when she caught a glimpse of something moving in one of the niches.  Curiosity got the better of her and she began moving down the passageway, leaving the sunrod where it was so as not to give away that she had left the spot where she landed.  Silently, she slid her rapier from its sheath, moving on the balls of her feet and trying to stick to the few shadows the sunrod left in the passage.

All was for naught, however, as a stringy looking ball of muscle, hung with razor sharp claws and with a pair of floating eyeballs above it floated out from behind one of the statues.  Repulsed by it, she could do little more than stare at it in horror as it aimed a beam of bluish light from one of its eyes.  The beam made her feel a little tired, and that was the shock that threw her into action.

There was no way out behind her, she knew.  She couldn’t climb the stone and get away before that thing could reach her.  So all she could do was go on the offensive.  Falling back into the steps her fencing teacher had taught her back home, she stabilized herself and then thrust, throwing her entire body’s weight behind it when she felt it impact in the middle of the ball of reddish-brown fibers.

Strangely, her blow struck entire through the thing and its weight became suddenly apparent as she killed it and it ceased to float itself before her.  It dragged her blade down to the ground with a crash and she was forced to push it off using one of her boots, making faces at the squelching sounds as it slid off, but even moreso at the stink it caused.

“Okay,” she said quietly, trying to keep from losing the breakfast Avlan had made them, “I’m going back to wait now…”

---

It turned out Lauryl and Avlan needed more than just the afternoon to rest when Graven returned from his expedition into town.  Avlan was exhausted from his body having to heal itself through the force of magic and the following assault by the acid-splashing beetles and was still fast asleep when he returned.  Lauryl was sitting outside the collapsed house, meditating while wearing one of her silvery robes.  Her hair had been let down and her body was partially visible beneath the shimmering cloth.

“Did you get what you went for?” she asked after a moment.  She did not turn her head, so he was not certain if she had opened her eyes or not.  He had to assume not, since she was still seated in her meditative position.

“I did,” he replied.  “We should return for Ielena before she believes we abandoned her.  Panic can set in after only a few hours.”

“Avlan is not ready and I have drawn upon all of Eilistraee’s blessings that I will be able to call on this day.  She knew what she was doing when she entered that thing and knew the risks.  You do not give her enough credit, Graven.”

“I tend not to give credit to those who have not earned it, no,” he replied, leaning against the stone wall of the house.  “She is little more than chaos bound into an elven form, attractive though it may be.”

“Oh, so you have noticed.” Lauryl’s voice took on a faintly mocking tone.

“I notice everything, Lauryl,” he replied flatly.  “Like the fact that when you move just so, you expose almost everything you have to offer beneath that gown.  That you are willing to wear such a thing in a mor-seelie town like Diamond Lake and that you are not afraid to be seen such.”

“Mor-seelie,” Lauryl said, a smile tinging her voice.  “A dung-hole it may be, Graven, but it is where our lives have taken us.  The people of this place are unused to outsiders, having grown up surrounded by filth and the depravity offered by the entertainments they have here.  A little elegance can go a long way to brightening their lives.”

“Walking around in see-through clothing is also a good way to get assaulted,” Graven commented.

“You have seen me fight.  Do you think I had not considered such a thing?”

“You think I am underestimating you as well, do you?”

“I think you do not give anyone who is not yourself credit to survive in a world you see as much darker than it truly is, Graven.”  Lauryl slid one hand off a knee and moved to take up the hilt of her sword, lying on the ground nearby.  “If you wish, someday I can show you just how wrong you are.”

Graven smirked, admiring her strength of character even as he admired the curves of her back.  “I think I might enjoy you teaching me to enjoy this world,” he replied.

She turned and grinned at him over one shoulder then and let the blade drop back to the ground.  “I think you would,” she said simply.  “But such is for a time when you have, perhaps, earned my respect as well, hmm?”

One of his eyebrows rose at that and her soft laughter seemed gently mocking as he walked away.

---

After the first hour passed, Ielena realized something had gone wrong up above.  Aside from that strange grinding noise, nothing had happened, leaving her to wonder if she’d been abandoned.  When the sunrod went out several hours later, the wonder became certainty and she hoped her friends were alright.  Hopefully that noise hadn’t been some sort of trap crushing them all and leaving her trapped down here forever.  The Whispering Cairn had been explored before, and she had physical evidence in front of her of the dangers of its traps.  She could only hope and pray that nothing had become of them.

Eventually, after pacing the room innumerable times and coming to the conclusion that it was a gas trap in the wall that would likely go off if the stone was moved (some sort of double-trap – ingenious, she noted), she realized that her friends were not coming back for quite some time.

There was nothing to do but go into Reverie.

And wait.

---

She snapped out of Reverie when the vault she’d been sitting in spun and closed its doors before beginning to rise again.  Looking up at the ceiling (which was no longer visible after her second sunrod had gone out), she whispered a silent prayer to the gods of luck and stood, resting her hand on her rapier just in case something she wasn’t expecting turned up rather than her friends.  When it came to a stop and the door slid open, revealing Graven, Avlan and Lauryl standing beside the sarcophagus, she smiled brightly and traipsed over to them, ignoring the brilliant flare of light that lit the chamber.  Graven had purchased a lantern while she was trapped and it now lit the chamber in a myriad of colorful sparks reflected from the ceiling.  Reaching them, she hugged Graven, kissed his cheek, did the same to Avlan (who looked away in embarrassment) and then grabbed Lauryl’s hands in a friendly welcome.

“What took you?” she asked.  That was when she noticed the stench of burnt oil and the pall of smoke that hung around the corners of the room and gathered in the top of the dome.

“We ran into some problems,” Lauryl replied, nodding at a wide patch of blackened bugs scattered across the floor.  They crunched underfoot as well and she realized there were small insect-like bodies all over the place.  A horrid smell reminiscent of cat urine hung in the air and she could see the drizzled yellow stain of acid on the stone of the floor.

“Looks like I missed out on some of the excitement,” Ielena replied, grinning.

“I wouldn’t call it exciting,” Avlan replied seriously.  “Life threatening, would be more like it.”

“Nothing a little fire couldn’t take care of, like I said,” Graven opined, grinning.  “Sorry it took so long to get back to you.  We couldn’t wake Avlan here up after the bugs decided to eat him for a snack.”

“You try nearly losing an arm and then having most of the flesh of your face torn off by acidic bugs!” Avlan snapped, clearly unhappy at the jibe.

Lauryl stepped between them and rested a hand on Avlan’s arm.  “It was a joke, Avlan,” she said, glaring at Graven.

Graven looked innocent.  “Indeed!  No need to take offense!”

“So, nothing else changed while I was away, I see,” Ielena said, grinning.  “While you were off fighting buggies, I found an interesting chamber below, but it’s blocked off by a fallen stone trap.  There was a hall beyond that, but it had a strange muscly thing floating around in it.  I killed it.”

“You killed it?” Graven asked, staring at her.

“Mmhmm…  All by my lonesome.  Imagine that, huh?”  Ielena pursed her lips and grinned.  She turned away then and eyed the open hole in the floor where the bugs had first appeared.  “None of us are entirely incapable on our own, Graven…”  She moved to look into the pit, trying to see what might be below.  “What happened here?”

Graven rolled his eyes.  “I never said that anyone was…”

“Nevermind,” Lauryl said, grinning at him.  “The vault collapsed and fell in.  That opened the way for the beetles that we fought.”

“It looks like it might open up down there.  There was a hallway where I ended up.  Maybe we should go look around a bit?”

As if on cue, the vault Ielena had spent the night in slid back into the floor.  The quiet grinding of stone on stone followed as it sank back to wherever she had been.

“At least we don’t have to worry about how to move the damned sarcophagus,” Avlan said softly.  “Let me arrange some ropes and we’ll head down.”

“Well,” Ielena said, turning and looking at the others.  “Business as usual, I guess!”