CURRENT CONDITIONS IN DIAMOND LAKE:[SBLOCK]It is currently around 11:15 AM on Tunsday, Coldeven 15th, CY 593.
Current temperature is 56 degrees Farenheit, the storms have set in and seem to be intent on staying awhile. Luna will be full tomorrow, Celene is waxing.[/sblock]
Creation Guides: [sblock] 32pt buy
Races: All core races
Classes: Open to most from Complete Series, as well as PHB
Wealth: 1/2 of maximum wealth listed in PHB
Starting lvl: 1st
ECL Races: Initially none will be allowed, but as the game progresses, if a char should die, or the char can work "awakening" their ECL race (Tiefling, Aasimar, Gensai) ECL races may be considered.
Anything else? Just ask me....[/sblock]
Players Guide to Diamond Lake: [sblock]Diamond Lake Player’s Handout
The ramblings of Knuckston Grizzlebeard, common miner and regular patron of the Feral Dog Tavern, a week before his death by a falling girder in the Tilgast Mines:
So, you wanna know what life is like in Diamond Lake? Hells man, why would you want ta give a second thought about this place? It’s a piss hole. My old bones sweat their last in those mines, and I’ve got nothing to show for it except a case of gout and the hacking lungrot.
You ain’t going away are, ya?
Well then, sit down. . . I’ll talk to ye about the sights around here, but it’ll cost ya a few rounds . . . the Good Dwarven stuff too, you cheapskate.
Okay, where was I? Diamond Lake, a cesspool like no other. . .
Governor-mayor Lanod Neff is the head cheese around here. He’s been appointed by the Free City itself because his father was a head cheese and got him started with a position at the Garrison that he didn’t deserve. Now, he sits in his massive manor house on the hill overlooking the town. It’s constantly under construction, mostly so Neff can try to outclass the other bigwigs in this berg.
The man himself? Hells! He’s a lying, cheating philanderer who spends more time chasing tail than doing any real work. He lines the pockets of his cronies to stay in power, and pays off that sheriff to keep him and his boys in line.
If it weren’t for his brother, Allustan Neff, Lanod’s body would have been dumped into a dry mine years ago by the other power brokers in town. Allustan’s a pretty powerful Wizard, probably the smartest man in town. I heard that back in the Free City, he had designs on being the head of a wizard’s academy, but fell out of favor and was forced into retirement.
Since he was born and raised here, he ended up back where he started. I like to think he may have ran away from the big city with his tail between his legs, but, um . . . don’t tell anyone I told you that.
Anyway, the law around here, if you wanna call it that, is a big old bastard named Sheriff Cubbin. It’s no secret he’s in the pocket of the Mayor, and spends his time drinking and carousing in the various cathouses. When he got elected Sheriff, we laughed in our cups and threw darts at his head, until he arrested us all with his private battalion of cronies. Dark hearted bastard. . .
The only other law in town is the Garrison, ran by Captain Tolliver Trask. He runs about 60 men in the old keep, but the snots never bother to step foot inside the town proper. Mostly, they patrol the miles of wilderness outside of town, and pray to their self-righteous god of honor. Truth is, Trask doesn’t care a lick for Diamond Lake, and he keeps his men out of our affairs. He’s just here to make sure his precious metropolis Greyhawk don’t get attacked from our direction. If anything really bad happens here, the gates of the keep will shut so fast that any honest wage earner standing in the way’ll get dashed against the walls.
The mines are everything here, and I’ve been breaking my back inside of ‘em for 30 years. The mine managers come and go, and deeds exchange hands over blackmail, gambling, and even downright murder and theft. At least that’s the rumor. It a tough business and I can say that through it all, I’m still here, digging away to line the pockets for every backstabbing sithspit that ever owned a mine.
Right now, there are six mine managers, who are considered to be the ones that matter in town. They have the chink to ignore the law, and hire their own thugs to keep order in their respective areas of business. They fight with the mayor sometimes, but for the most part they don’t do much but bicker amongst themselves for every scrap of ore they can squeeze out of the hills.
You want a rundown of who they are? What’s the point of that? It won’t last. . .
Ah . . . the hells with it . . . keep the ale coming. . .
Right now, the comer is Balabar Smenk. He is a fat, lecherous bastard who got his start from his old contacts in Greyhawk. He spends his time gambling, drinking, and scheming up new ways to take over this entire town. The mayor hates him, mostly because he’s scared. Smenk owns 4 mines right now, and is poised to get more. Balabar may have just enough of the town in his pocket to stage a coup of his own, but he’s usually too powdered up with perfume and sweaty finery to think about lifting a sword.
Of course, this has really pissed off Gelch Tilgast. Right now I work for the old fart, but it may not last. Before Smenk come into the picture, Gelch reigned over this berg for years like a petty lord, and now he’s getting a taste of what it’s like to be on the outs. I’ve even heard rumors that he’s trying to get support from other mine managers to fight off Balabar Smenk, but that’s probably hogwash. Tilgast doesn’t know which way is up these days, and they sure as hell wouldn’t deal with him after the way he’s backhanded them over the years.
He’s still better off that Luzanne Parrin. She inherited her mines from her mother, who died in the Red Death when she was still a pup. Now, twenty years later, she’s almost bankrupt, and it’s no secret that she’s sleeping with Chaum Gansworth to try and protect her own skin. She’ll be broke soon.
Chaum Gansworth has been in town for a while, and keeps a pretty low profile. Other than the fact that he’s sleeping with Luzanne, there ain’t much to tell. He does own the Rusty Bucket, and has dinner there quite often. I guess his mines are doing okay, but then again . . . how the hell am I supposed to know?
The same can be said for the other two mine managers. One’s an elf, some prancing panty waste named Ellival Moonmeadow. He only owns one silver mine, and doesn’t have anything to do with regular townsfolk like us. He just hangs out with his fellow elves, doing . . . well, whatever it is elves do when they’re together. Haw ha!
The other one is a dwarf, named Ragnolin Dourstone, who’s been here ever since I can remember. Like most Dwarves, he does well for himself in the mining profession, and has handpicked a number of spots to start new mines, all of them pretty damn successful. So far, neither Tilgast nor Smenk has managed to dent his business one bit . . . though they’ve both tried their best over the years.
In addition to the mines, all six mine managers share a single smelting house, located near the old piers. It’s pretty much monopolized by the city council in the Free City, and run like a tight ship. The chief smelter, Vulgan Durtch, is a recluse, and the entire operation resembles a fortress with no windows, and no unguarded entrances. They had to step things up a bit security wise, after one of the mine managers sabotaged a rival’s shipment.
Well, I can’t really go back all that far. My memory gets a little fuzzy when I think back to the old days. . . I do know that the area near the lake was run by some uppity feudal lord a long time ago. He built a keep, which currently houses the Garrison’s men. There are also a couple of old fences in the cairn hills where he tried to get his farming subjects to grow carrots and potatoes. I wonder how many of the idiot’s subjects starved to death!
Well, his sons started exploring the cairns and old gravesites that litter this whole area. I guess they found quite a bit of loot from the olden days . . . and I don’t mean 50 years ago. I mean really old days. Hundreds of years ago.
Anyway, all this loot attracted the attention of the Free City, and pretty soon they bought off the noble kids and annexed this whole area for themselves. They hired a group of adventurers to explore it all, and sucked every last treasure dry from those old tombs.
That would have been the end of Diamond Lake, except prospectors and surveyors came in and took measure of the land. It’s still useless for growing anything but weeds, but wouldn’t you know they discovered a massive cache of silver lodes and massive veins of iron under the hills, including the one we’re sitting on right now?
Now, years and years later, it’s said that that we’re the cornerstone of the Free City’s ore supply. Not like they’d pass any of that wealth onto common laborers like us, you understand. When I was a kid, getting a meal was as easily as casting a line in the Lake. Now, the smelting house and associated runoff has polluted the water so much, the merchants have to send off to Greyhawk just to get a week-old, salted flounder.
As far as recent history goes, there ain’t much to tell . . . honest folk are still getting screwed and the wealthy are still getting richer off of our sweat. Let’s see. . .
There’s an old ring of stones out in the boonies, called the Menhirs. It’s visited by Rangers, Druids, and other freeloaders. No one knows who built it, but they say the worn stone have been there for centuries.
The Old Observatory used to be a haven to some scholarly Monks, who used to prance about and read off astrology. They packed up shop when I was just a kid, and since then it’s pretty much sat abandoned.
Then, of course, about 19 years ago, a pretty bad plague called the Red Death swept through and killed a good many of us. I lost my sister to the Boneyard, and me son’s still got vapors and can’t make a living. I even had it myself, but it’s weren’t too bad on me. I did get a pretty lumpy scar from it on the back o’ my head though. You wanna see it?
Ah well. . .
There’s nothing like spending a day’s wage in Diamond Lake. We may not get much in the way o’ housing, sanitation, or any of that frilly city crap that doesn’t do any good anyway . . . but we do have entertainment in spades.
If you have the money, the Emporium is the place to be. It’s run by a lady of the night, Zalamadra, and she’s got a whole cadre of the sweetest ladies you ever saw at her disposal. They sit in perfumed glory in the upstairs area she calls the Veiled Corridor. There aren’t any veils there that I’ve seen, but then again, I’ve never asked for one. There’s also a Den on the top floor where you can obtain the use of other substances that twist your mind around and make you talk funny, if you’re into that. There are plenty of games of chance, and a very interesting freak show downstairs full of dangerous and exotic creatures. Just last week, I heard a rumor that a crazed demon child escaped it cage and went on a fiery rampage. They haven’t caught it yet, and I’m keeping a sharp lookout. They say its hide has magic designs on it, and I’ll bet its worth a few pennies to its owners. I have a boot dagger handy in case I run into the thing.
If you like boredom, you can always visit Lazare’s House. It’s a fancy, high class place with a steep price I remember when Lazare managed a mine in town, until his wife got sick and he was bankrupted, selling everything to that bastard Smenk. Inside his place, there’s no music, no dancing girls, and no fun. I heard everyone sits at tables and plays Dragonchess, a game with over 40 pieces and a multilevel board. Lazare used to be a champion, and has somehow pushed his habit on some of the upper crust. It’s a snore, but at least you can gamble on it.
If you find yourself a little light of chink, there are a few other places you can visit for fun. The Midnight Salute is a pretty cheap place to get some female action, but they cater heavily to the Garrison’s crowd. If you’re looking to get drunk or do some low-end betting, there’s the Feral Dog, where you can see some pit dogs tear each other to pieces, and get into a bar brawl or two. It can get rough, even for a guy like me, but it’s worth it because they don’t charge you to get in. Your other choice among the chaff is the Spinning Giant, but the other patrons are usually garrison soldiers, so you have to be tolerant of drunken chants and men who like to slap each other on the butt. They don’t tolerate stealing or bad manners, and there isn’t a card game to be found anywhere in the vicinity.
If you’re just hungry for some food, you can go to the Hungry Gar. The chef there is a pretty decent cook, but there’s only so much you can do with snared rabbits and deer meat. One alternative is the Rusty Bucket, which has a pretty decent common room as well.
Finally, if information of the outside world is your cup of tea, many out-of-towners stay at the Able Carter Coaching Inn. The main thrust of the business is running coaches and supplies back and forth to Cinnmore, Blackwall Keep, Elmshire, and other parts west. Boarders from all over stay there, mostly for short term business, so a good conversation about Cinnmore and other part o’ the world are in good order there. Plus, if you’re willing to pay, they’ll take horses too.
Nine Hells, you can always do what I do. You can always spend thirty years of your life slaving away to Gelch Tilgast, only to see your life get poured down the drain when he sells the mine to Balabar Smenk in a few years. Smenk pays two coppers cheaper, and you work a longer shift. Bastards.
There are plenty o’ places to get business done in Diamond Lake. You got something to buy or sell, you can most likely procure your needs right here.
Let’s see. . . we got Tidwoad’s Jewelry, run by a uppity gnome of the same name. He cheated my mother out of her jewels for half their worth, so I can’t vouch for his honesty, but you should see his collections in the window – whew! . . . He swears that his shop is burglar proof, and so far, no one’s taken him up on the challenge. I’d like a few of those baubles for myself, that’s the honest truth.
The General Store is where you can pick up just about any mundane equipment you’d ever need. Taggin runs it pretty reasonable, and has all the supplies you need to travel overland for a month, or survive a mountain climb. He stays outta people’s business, and sticks to his own outfit.
The Lakeside Stables are run by a half-elf named Lanch Faraday. I ain’t ever owned a horse myself, so I don’t know him well. I only met him once, during a card game, but I took my leave when he upset a table and pulled a knife. He’s a mean, sour drunk, but he takes care of most of the community’s horses, so he can’t be all bad.
If you’re looking for weapons, Tyorl Ebberly has a good shop. He claims to be a watch captain in the Free City, but he must’ve done something wrong to end up here. He has a few artifacts from the Cairn hills that he’s found. If your interested his place is called The Captain’s Blade.
Venelle’s contains some of the finest bows in the land. Venelle herself is happy to sell anything she has, if she can locate it through all the clutter o’ her shop. I took up bow hunting myself once, and stood all day in a tree stand, on her advice. The only thing I caught was a damned cold.
Manlin Osgood. . . now there’s a man I can hang a reputation on. He’s a right fellow and an able drinking companion, if his head’s right. He doesn’t bluff at cards, he’s always ready with a backslap and a handshake, and he makes the finest masterwork armor in the region. A few from Greyhawk come to Osgood’s Smithy special, just to access his team of apprentice blacksmiths.
That’s about it. There are other places in town to get things, but I wouldn’t recommend it. When your life depends on a wooden girder underground, you better make sure the right hands set it up, if you catch my meaning.
In Diamond Lake, it’s better to be gouged by an honest exploiter than outright cheated by a thief, so stick to those places I mentioned . . . you should be fine.
There are a few churches in town that have gained a following, but I wouldn’t recommend any of ‘em. The best church for me are the Halls of the Veiled Corridor, where you can tithe your money for a cause that’s worthy of your coin, and get a little bit of sweetness besides.
However, if you insist, you can go to the Church of Ct. Cuthbert, right on the center of town. The sermons there are full of piss and vinegar, led by Jierian Wierus, whose favorite activity is to flog his own backside with a cat-o-nine-tails, and go to the seedy parts of town to covert others to do the same. His following is 150 strong and growing.
If they’d make you feel welcome, you can go to the garrison and sit at the Chapel of Heironeous. It’s mostly full of soldiers, who like to puff themselves up with honor before riding around the countryside in their fancy armor. Valkus Dunn is the righteous bastard in charge, preaching about public do-goodery, but doing nothing about it. He opens the service up to the public, but no one goes except men who swing swords for a living.
If you like nature, you can traipse out in to the boonies to visit the Bronzewood Lodge. Its run by Nogweir, a cleric of Obad-Hai who likes to scare people about bogeymen in the hills, but I can’t imagine why they’d sit out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to entertain them. Trying to fill the coffers so he can get back to real civilization is my guess.
There’s also a Temple of Wee-Jas around here somewhere, called the Cult of the Green Lady, but you won’t see them much unless you go the Boneyard and visit the graves they tend to. When my Suzie died from the Red Death, they took her thin, deformed bones and washed her up real pretty. Then they stood around and gave a little speech about mortality and life, but I didn’t have a penny to give ‘em. They went ahead and did it for free.
Anyway, that’s pretty much a good rundown of Diamond Lake for ya. You wasted enough of my time, so get out of my face and stop asking questions. I got a few coppers left in my pocket, and I want to get to the Emporium to see that damned two-headed mule again . . .
Knuckston Grizzlebeard was buried in the Bonyard of Diamond Lake. His burial was overseen by the Cult of the Green Lady, and he is survived by his adult son Renald Grizzlebeard, in the direct custody of the mine manager Gelch Tilgast.
“The joys of the rich man are nothing, as they who hang around with sinners, scoffing at the simple paths of righteousness. Their delights are a pittance compared to eternity, and their rewards shall be devoured by the wriggling powers of darkness. They seem as trees along a riverbank bearing luscious fruits, but I tell you: they are plagued from within by blind, consuming things that eat without mercy and leave nothing behind. Not a one of them will be safe on the day of final judgment, when the slithering darkness feasts upon them. We tread toward a red day, full of writing doom and a dread feast of bloated, ravenous hunger. Dark times is coming. Slithering times, when the clouds snuff the sky and the austerity of flesh is the path of salvation. Be ready, and prepare your body for the coming Age . . . an Age of Worms . . .” - Jierian Weirus, Priest of St. Cuthbert
*this guide created by wereplatupus on Paizo boards. I merely copied and pasted as it captured the feel of the game amazingly.
Once again I would like to thank BrO for this guide and in saving me alot of typing hours. I just hope I can repay him somehow before we both finish this game..
AS A PUBLIC SERVICE I AM STEALING THE GAZETTEER FOR DIAMOND LAKE ORIGINALLY POSTED BY BRANDING OPPURTUNITY IN HIS INGAME THREAD
BACKGROUND ON THE TOWN OF DIAMOND MINE AND ITS INHABITANTS
Every week, hundreds of miners boil up from the depths, their pockets lined with freshly earned coin. The Emporium exists to separate the men from the money, and at this it is paramount among Diamond Lake's diverse businesses. Ten years ago it was simply Zalamandra's, one of a dozen vice dens along the Vein. Its ill fortunes changed the day its charismatic young madam seduced Professor Montague Marat, proprietor of a traveling sideshow and curiosity collection passing through Diamond Lake. The two soon joined forces, and a cavalcade of freaks and eccentrics moved into the building's lower floor. Thus was born Zalamandra's Emporium, and Diamond Lake has never been the same.
Upon entering, visitors encounter a small desk station manned by a grinning, businesslike attendant named Gaspar. The thin, balding man smiles wryly at all times, a gesture accentuated by his upcurled moustache. The house charges three coppers for access to the 'Gallery of Science' along the first floor's central corridor, and three silver for access to the lushly decorated upper floor, which features a large gaming hall, an exclusive entertainment club, and the infamous Veiled Corridor, where any pleasure may be obtained for the right price.
Those seeking a relatively cultured nightspot often congregate at Lazare's House, a cozy gaming parlor situtated on the Vein's central square. In contrast to the ostentatious banners and garish chipped paint on the Emporium across the street, Lazare's exudes a quiet sense of class with a stylish stone and timber construction and distinctive crooked-peaked roof. Inside, Diamond Lake's elite match wits over dragonchess, a popular game in which two sides of 42 pieces contest over three 96-square boards representing the sky, the earth, and the underworld. Pieces include the griffon, sylph, oliphant, basilisk, hero, thief, and paladin. Scholars claim that the game is a metaphor for the celestial struggles of fundamental law, chaos, good, and evil. In Diamond Lake, it's principally another justification for gambling.
A central hearth, constantly stoked by the courteous staff, serves as the hub of a roughly circular interior. Along the ring, eight alcoves offer an excellent location for private conversation or even romantic trysts. Each alcove is a half-moon of posh benches encircling a rectangular table bearing a special built-in dragonchess board. Visitors are expected to bring their own pieces, but may rent a house set for 2gp. This fee effectively keeps out the riff-raff, making Lazare's a haven for visiting dignitaries and Diamond Lake's upper class.
The Feral Dog
Since both Lazare's and the Emporium charge a small fee for entry, Diamond Lake's poorest laborers must turn to a collection of run-down ale halls with more sullied reputations. The busiest by far is The Feral Dog, a sleazy tavern on the Vein's central square. Every night and especially when the workforces of several local mines let out at the same time, cheering laborers within the bar scream obscenities and wave betting vouchers over two dogs in a lethal pit fight. No one savors the tinny ale, but the place is more about camaraderie, bravado, and desperation than about expecting exemplary quality or service.
A gang of criminals casts a broad shadow over The Feral Dog's squalid taproom. The patrons know from experience to respect the word of Kullen, the silently seething albino half-orc who leads the motley band with little tolerance for insolence and a powerful backhand.
Arguments commonly erupt at the Feral Dog, especially during the dogfights, when betting often grows contentious and even violent. About once a month, a drunk miner falls or is pushed into the thrashing dog pit, with predictably tragic results. During the worst brawls, someone usually gets knifed. A festering garbage pit in the sharp crags behind the building is said to hold the corpses of as many humans as dogs.
Church of St. Cuthbert
Each of the establishments along the Vein's central square trade in the exploitation of human vice or false hope, and the tower-flanked Church of St. Cuthbert is certainly no exception. Within this austere stucco structure, the poorest of Diamond Lake's poor huddle in a torch-lit sanctuary listening to the fiery sermons of Jierian Wierus, a bombastic orator whose populist rants appeal to the best virtues and values of the common man while at the same time preying upon their fears and superstitions. Wierus endlessly preaches a creed of common sense, honesty, and self-sacrifice, encouraging his faithful to give penance to St. Cuthbert by whipping themselves in repetitive acts of self-mortification. His growing cult, now some 150 strong, gives succor to the dregs of Diamond Lake society and is seen as a menace by the town's mine managers, government, and other religious figures. Many claim that the flagellants seem to follow Wierus as much as they do St. Cuthbert, and it is only because the charismatic firebrand somehow keeps his followers from breaking the law that his sect has been allowed to thrive.
Sooner or later, adventurers looking to sell loot will cross paths with Tidwoad, a cantankerous jeweler with a meticulously arranged shop located on the Vein's central square. Tidwoad's is as close to a bank as one can find in Diamond Lake, and the gnome keeps several small vaults in the crawlspace below his workshop. He maintains a collection of his finest gems in a showroom display case, boasting that his establishment is completely theft proof. A shield guardian named Festus helps to keep the gnome's theft-free streak alive with powerful stone fists and a constant focus on protecting the shop.
When a barroom brawl gets out of hand or when visitors threaten to upset the balance of power in Diamond Lake, Governor-Mayor Lanod Neff relies upon the discretion and agency of his private police force, assembled from a collection of corrupt watchmen gathered during Neff's youth as a watch captain in the Free City of Greyhawk. Nearly all of them were drummed out of service in the capital due to some indiscretion, but each maintained a hold over municipal authorities (often in the form of potential blackmail fodder) strong enough to ensure that they were not bounced from the service entirely, but instead reassigned to Diamond Lake.
Led by a boisterous alcoholic named Sheriff Cubbin, the six thugs who comprise the constabulary see to the general safety of the town and ensure that Neff's schemes go off without a hitch. They take a keen interest in unusual visitors and in the dealings of the town's mine managers, Balabar Smenk and Gelch Tilgast in particular. The police don't care one whit about crimes committed against the mine managers' agents, but decorum insists that they persecute overt crimes committed against the managers themselves to the full extent of the law.
The Sheriff's Office off the Vein's central square contains living quarters for all six constables and a twelve-cell jail filled with a motley assembly of drunks and maniacs.
Running a successful business in Diamond Lake means avoiding entanglements with the constantly maneuvering mine managers and scrupulously avoiding favoritism (real or perceived). No merchant better understands this reality than Taggin, the amiable master of the town's largest general store. Tables line the walls within, stacked high with rope coils, lanterns, bottles, gloves, and gear. Wagon wheels rest against barrels filled with nails or candles. The inventory includes most common adventuring gear, and Taggin cheerfully offers to special order anything he does not have in stock from the Free City, a process that 'usually takes about a week.' Taggin is just shy of middle age, but dresses somewhat stylishly for his class. He has a handlebar mustache and full, receding blond hair. He treats women of any race with exceptional politeness.
The Hungry Gar
Guld Tortikan, head chef at the Hungry Gar, claims to serve the finest meal on the Vein. He is mistaken.
When the lake turned foul, Diamond Lake's modest fishing industry fled the town, leaving a wake of empty warehouses and bankrupted fishers. Some of these warehouses became stockades for mine managers, packed with raw ore and letters of credit from the Free City and beyond. Others fell to ruin and became infested with squatters and addicts. Jalek's Flophouse, situated on Front Street within smelling distance of the lake, is the town's most famous warehouse, as it houses nearly a dozen pitiful indigents fighting off destitution with a handful of copper. A rotting wooden framework within supports a lurching, mazelike second floor, where every step brings an alarming creak and the walls thrum with muffled conversation. Lodging is 5 coppers a night, paid to a massive, helmeted half-orc mute named Golot. The brute pummels those who do not pay until they flee or die. No one has an address at Jalek's - the room you have is the one can keep. Most rooms lack doors, let alone locks, but the shifting inhabitants and the chaotic layout of the upper floor makes it one of the best places to disappear in all of Diamond Lake. The halfling landlord Jalek lives in a rooftop apartment and is seldom seen. The Cuthbertine flagellant Jieran Wierus frequently visits the flophouse, where he recruits a growing tide of converts.
A corpulent elemental of corruption and bad taste, Balabar Smenk lords his political clout over everyone in Diamond Lake save the governor-mayor and garrison commander, whom he privately mocks. Smenk has wrestled four mines into his possession in the last ten years, and has designs upon the rest. A coven of sycophants and hired goons surrounds him at all times. Rumors suggest that he has powerfully connected friends in the Free City of Greyhawk.
Smenk lives in a sodden old mansion a century past its prime. Three thugs patrol the streets around his home, warning anyone they see to go away with a sneer and the brandishing of a lead pipe. Despite these precautions, Smenk's front door is always wide open, fulfilling an old public promise that he would always be available to his miners.
Balabar Smenk uses this abandoned mine only for storage (and, rumor has it, occasionally to disappear the body of a slain enemy). It is protected by a padlock on an iron door.
Centuries ago, long before the foundation of the Free City, a petty lord commanded the shores of the lake and the nearby iron ore and silver mines from a sturdy hilltop keep. Today, the refurbished ruin of that keep serves as home to more than 60 members of the Free City Militia, soldiers tasked with patrolling the northern hills, keeping watch over the lizardfolk-infested Mistmarsh to the south, and liaising with halfling, gnome, and dwarf communities in the region.
A third of the soldiers are always out on patrol, a wide circuit of nearby roadways and wildlands that takes them away from Diamond Lake for a week at a time. Remaining soldiers drill, maintain the garrison, hunt, and familiarize themselves with local terrain.
The bored soldiers present rich mining ground for a cadre of clerics and paladins of Heironeous, who provide spiritual and magical aid to the warriors from a stately chapel within the garrison fortress.
Captain Tolliver Trask, the garrison's aging commander, distinguished himself in a recent war and has the respect of his charges and of the community at large. He cares little about the day-to-day politics of Diamond Lake, and encourages his men to stay out of local business. He sees his job as critical to the defense of the Free City. Diamond Lake is just something that happens to be near his important work.
He supports Governor-Mayor Lanod Neff out of respect for the political process that put him in power, if not for the man himself. He trusts three advisors more closely than any of his other associates. The Heironean chief cleric Valkus Dun acts as Trask's spiritual advisor and foil. Trask's best friend is Dietrik Cicaeda, the middle-aged Chief Cartographer of Diamond Lake. Cicaeda is the region's sole legal authority regarding issues of land ownership, making his journals and maps among the town's most valuable treasures. He and his work thus enjoy the official protection of the garrison's walls and soldiery, and remain safely locked away from the town's manipulative mine managers. Chief Scout Merris Sandovar, lately of the Bronzewood Lodge druidic community three hours northeast of Diamond Lake, rounds out Captain Trask's inner circle.
The complete garrison force consists of 60 soldiers. Militia members typically wear leather or chainmail armor and carry a longsword or shortbow. This force is divided into thirds, with each squad led by a lieutenant. These individuals have the ear of Captain Trask and the admiration of their charges.
Chapel of Heironeous
Most of the guards and soldiers serving in the Diamond Lake garrison honor Heironeous as the patron of justice and martial prowess. The Invincible One's temple is little more than a large high-ceilinged chamber within the garrison itself, but it boasts the second largest congregation in Diamond Lake, as well as one of the village's most dynamic personalities in the form of its high priest, Valkus Dun.
Dun came to Diamond Lake two years ago, after the previous high priest vanished under mysterious circumstances. Local gossip holds that Dun once had great prospects in the Free City's immense Sanctum of Heironeous, but that politics saw him exiled to an assignment in squalid Diamond Lake. Nevertheless, Dun took to his assignment with zeal, and the weekly services have taken on an activist spirit. While the garrison commander urges his charges to stay out of local affairs, Dun instills in them a duty to the villagers and urges them to make a difference in the community. the resulting tension, between the garrison commander and Valkus Dun as well as between the Heironean soldiers and the disreputable elements of Diamond Lake (which is to say nearly all of them), is palpable.
A massive wall fresco of a mythic battle between perfect Heironeous and his traitorous half-brother Hextor looms over the chapel's bronzewood altar. The holy image is lit by dozens of guttering torches at night and by several stained-glass windows during the day. Weekly services exhibit a great deal of fraternity and sober, harmonic hymns. The are open to the public, but are dominated by soldiers and guards.
While the common folk of Diamond Lake have plenty of reason to despair of their living conditions, they remain several times more fortunate than the community's horses, who predominantly dwell in the run-down Lakeside Stables under the careful watch of the brutal Lanch Faraday, a portly ostler prone to distressing mood swings. Customers commonly complain of mysterious bruises on their horses, evidence of Faraday's uncontrollable rages. Still, the price is right, and the walls around back keep the horses relatively safe from theft, so no one has yet pressed the issue.
The Midnight Salute
This by-the-numbers house of ill-repute caters to the garrison crowd and anyone seeking a less exotic (and less expensive) experience than that offered by the Emporium's legendary Veiled Corridor. Its proprietess, the ravishing Purple Prose, stresses discretion and decorum with her workforce.
The Spinning Giant
When not drilling, sleeping, or on patrol, garrison soldiers flock to this raucous two-story tavern to meet with friends, chant drinking songs, and drown themselves in ale and good cheer. A blue-shingled roof tops filthy white plaster walls. A faded fresco painted on the building's face depicts a dancing imbecilic hill giant in a yellow dress. Patrons must enter and exit via a door positioned between the giant's legs. This is Flailing Felanore, a dim-witted young giantess captured by the garrison militia 40 years ago and 'granted' to the proprietor of a favorite watering hole to serve as a mascot. The attraction worked, drawing visitors from as far as the Free City to gawk and stare at Felanore's awkward gyrations. Though Felanore died from an outbreak of the Red Death plague, nearly 20 years ago, the free-standing circular center stage on which she once pranced remains the most prestigious musical venue in town, if not nearly the most titillating.
Garrison soldiers make up most of the Spinning Giant's regular patrons, with a handful of mine overseers and merchants rounding out the crowd. Most who come here consider themselves honorable, and expect similar conduct from others. They do not tolerate pickpockets, and respond harshly when confronted with a crime in progress. They hold a similar disdain for Diamond Lake's constabulary, and have made it known on many occasions that Sheriff Cubbin and his boys are not welcome on the premises. Nor do they welcome Diamond Lake's poor, including most miners. Regular patrons routinely "suggest" that riffraff instead visit one of Diamond Lake's other fine establishments. Soldiers act with bravado in these encounters, knowing that most of the Spinning Giant's other customers will have their backs should a fight break out.
The Captain's Blade
Tyrol Ebberly, a severe-looking man who claims to have once been a watch captain in the Free City, runs this small shop with efficiency. He's an absolute fanatic about weapons, always showing off his masterwork items with enthusiasm. He's also an inveterate gossip, and asks endless questions about peoples' affairs, trying to learn more about how they were wounded or why they're looking for money. Ebberly has any melee weapon up to 900 gp in stock, but must send away for more expensive items, a process that takes several days. He specializes in masterwork melee weapons, and keeps his surprisingly wide selection displayed on the walls. He does not offer any masterwork ranged weapons, and sends anyone looking for them to Venelle's, across town. "Don't forget your coin purse," he sniffs indignantly. "You're sure to need it there."
A redolence of fresh pine suffuses this handsome establishment, a distinctive structure that incorporates intricate carved patterns and upright logs. The proprietor, a curious woman named Venelle, makes masterwork bows and arrows, and also deals in other weapons and armor imported from the Free City in exchange for items of her own design. The shop is a bit chaotic, with various items piled on tables. Armor sits loosely on too-small dummies. Venelle has a touch of elven blood about her, and is pleased to entertain guests who appreciate arrowcraft and elven culture. She has friends among the Bronzewood Lodge, and greets other characters from that nearby community with smiles. Venele carries most weapons and armor priced up to 900gp, but must send away for more expensive items.
The "smartest man in town," a friendly wizard named Allustan, dwells within a charming red and deep blue house on one of the rare stretches of healthy grass in all of Diamond Lake. A small meditation garden abuts the face of the house, incorporating vertical stones and small pools of concentric circles. The fresh paint and well-tended yard contrasts sharply with the rest of the seedy town, a testament to the locals' respect for (or fear of) a man whose prowess is known as far as the Free City.
Allustan grew up in Diamond Lake with his brother, Lanod Neff. The sons of the town's powerful and efficient governor-mayor, they abused their influence and shamed the mine managers with social indiscretions. When finally they went too far, their father sent them both to the Free City, urging Allustan to seek an education and placing Lanod in a plum assignment with the city watch. Allustan soon found himself in the prestigious University of Magical Arts, where his apt scholarship and bravado caught the attention of a powerful master wizard named Tenser, a dynamic figure who traveled with some of the most renowned heroes of the day.
Tenser offered to take on Allustan as his apprentice, assuring him a life of thrills and discovery. What Allustan got was a window into a world of manipulative chessmasters willing to backstab trusted friends to honor abstract principles of balance and neutrality. Though he thrived in the company of Tenser and his ilk, the politics proved too much to handle, and he split with the group more than a decade ago after a bitter ethical dispute. He retired to Diamond Lake only to find his inept brother in charge and facing challenges from all sides. So he remains, knowing that his presence supports a corrupt leader but unwilling to leave his family to the wolves. The same political disinterest that got him into trouble with Tenser keeps him from seeing the worst of his brother's offenses.
Allustan offers his library and considerable intelligence to the citizens of Diamond Lake as a sage, although few miners have reason to seek his services. Allustan charges a standard rate of 20 gp per question. He does this more to sate his curiosity than for the money; gains from his adventuring days easily cover his modest lifestyle.
Ten years ago, the aging Gelch Tilgast held the reins of Diamond Lake's ore trade, a position he'd enjoyed most of his life. Then Balabar Smenk and his boundless ambition came to town. In his youth, Tilgast would have relished the challenge, but he didn't move fast enough to block Smenk's ascent, which has led directly to his own decline. Tilgast currently fuels enormous energy into building an alliance against Smenk that includes Luzane Parrin and a handful of weak mine managers from the neighboring towns of Steaming Springs and Blackstone.
The grandeur of Gelch Tilgast's stylish estate far outstrips its owner's current influence, which has been in free fall since Balabar Smenk first infested Diamond Lake. Tilgast maintains a family of seven fine thoroughbred horses within a well-managed stable enclosed in a stockade wall. Wealthy visitors and a few residents of the town pay 1 gp per day to stable a favorite horse within the compound, where a clutch of meticulous grooms tends to the animal's every need.
In decades past, nobles from the Free City flocked to Diamond Lake to sail upon its crystal clear waters. Mine tailings, waste runoff, and other pollution ended the practice almost a century ago, but the rotting carcasses of once elaborate piers still jut into the lake's murky waters. A few masts peek out from the surface, tombstones of abandoned fishing vessels from more recent times. Regular fish cannot survive in the tainted waters, leaving only dangerous, hardy predators like the ravenous, toothy gar that have become such a problem in recent years. Those who venture across Diamond Lake do so at their own risk.
For a piece of silver, a retired marine named Durskin will ferry up to six passengers across the lake in his sloop, a dingy vessel called the Autumn Runner. The destitute boatman lives on the deck of his boat, which smells of urine and teems with fleas and sea mites. Those seeking a safer passage must rely upon the Harkness, a ten-man sailboat maintained by the shadowy cult of the Green Lady, who use the vessel to cross back and forth between Diamond Lake and the cairn in which their order holds its services to Wee Jas, goddess of magic and death. Passage on the Harkness costs 3 sp, and passengers must endure bothersome sermons on the exquisite beauty of death and the arcane prowess of the Dark-Eyed Lady. In either case, it takes about 30 minutes to cross from one shore of the lake to the other.
Able Carter Coaching Inn
The Able Carter Coaching Company connects the City of Greyhawk to its satellite towns via a fleet fo horse-drawn coaches and an inn positioned in every leg of the journey. Diamond Lake’s hostelry offers 20 rooms for let at a rate of 1 gp per day. Stable services are available for a fee of 5 sp per day. Four guards keep watch on the place throughout the day and night and can be hired to ride with a coach for an additional 5 gp per guard per day. The following chart shows travel time from Diamond Lake to other locations. Journeys listed as “wild” involve at least one night in the wilderness, when the coach is a sitting duck for the numerous bandits who infest the hills and vex the garrison’s militia.
[b]Destination Days Direction Wild?[/b] Blackstone 1 West No Blackwall Keep 2 South-east Yes Elmshire 2 North Yes Greyhawk 3 West No
This is the residence of Luzane Parrian, who is one of the mine owners in Diamond Lake, which she inherited from her parents. When Balabar Smenk arrived in town years ago, he quickly started acquiring Parrian's assets and holdings. Over the last few years she as watched as her closes friends, allies forged during her mother's time, fell into bankruptcy or were killed thanks to the machinations of Balabar Smenk, who at the same time continued to press her on the romantic front.
Perrin once lived in the home now occupied by Balabar Smenk but was forced to relocate to this shabby manor about three years ago.
Three prominant representatives of the dwarven stronghold of Greysmere, many days to the south across the treacherous Mistmarsh, live in this sturdy brick and timber structure. Greysmere imports some of the raw iron ore unearthed by local humans, as it bears a color prized by the most skilled artisans and metalworkers of the dwarven clans. Dulok Blitzhame leads the delegation with straight talk and cunning pragmatism. The other councilors, Galuth Grobadore and Bitris Ruthek spend much of their time representing the interests of Greysmere in neighboring communities.
In the 14 years since he came to Diamond Lake, Chaum Gansworth has remained in the background, never drawing too much attention to himself while quietly amassing a fortune from three very productive mines.
Gansworth lives in the heart of Diamond Lake, at the end of a cul-de-sac marked by a memorial obelisk dedicted to the memory of a mine collapse 70 years ago that killed more than 300 miners. A low wall surrounds most of the two-story structure, and five loyal sentinels guard the compound at all times.
The Rusty Bucket
This popular restaurant used to specialize in fish, but since the lake went bad its' been forced to adapt to a land-based menu. Within, green stained-glass windows filter eerie light into the main dining room, where the intertwining melodies of a trio of pipers enhances an ethereal atmosphere. Guests dine in a large common room, with a handful of nicer tables situatied in a roped-off area beside the main dining hall. The far table, on a raised platform overlooking the private room, is reserved for Chaum Gansworth, Diamond Lake's most calculating mine manager and the owner of the Rusty Bucket. Gansworth rigorously pursues a neutral stance in all political dealings, afraid to expose himself to an enemy's treachery by making an overt move against one of the other mine managers. As a result, all fo the town's major political plaerys consider the Rusty Bucket neutral.
Unlike the other mine managers of Diamond Lake, Ellival Moonmeadow manages only one mine for the government of the City of Greyhawk. Moonmeadow owes his longevity to a keen intelligence and a reclusiveness that offers few chances to become embroiled in local affairs. The only thing that brings him into the public eye is gragonchess, and even then he plays only with opponents capable of challenging his instinctive, complex style. The blond, well-dressed elf rarely consorts with humans at all, preferring the company of six grey elves who also hail from his homeland, the distant realm of Celene. Decades younger than their master, these elves mix more readily with the folk of Diamond Lake, occasionally visiting the Emporium's opium parlor, Lazare's House, or Venelle's.
Moonmeadow's sprawling manor surrounds a central courtyard containing a meditation garden, an ostentation of peacocks, and two green-and-brown-pelted cooshees, mated elven dogs who have accompanied their master since his days in Celene.
The distinctive "O" maker's mark of Manlin Osgood is a regional sign of quality powerful enough that lesser blacksmiths in neighboring communities often forge it to maintain competitive parity. Osgood and his team of seven apprentices and journeyman smiths specialize in masterwork armor and household items like canteens, canisters, tools, and the like. Osgood is somewhat coarse, unfailingly polite middle-aged human with a bald head and a walrus-like mustache. He always remembers a customer's name, and greets frequent patrosn witha hearty handshake and a slap on the back.
A century ago, local mine managers maintained their own smelting houses, but constant conflict resulted in frequent sabotage that choked the flow of resources from Diamond Lake to Greyhawk markets. The city directors reluctantly stepped in, monopoloizing the smelting trade and basing the town's only smelting house in a massive fortress-worshop perched on the edge of the lake. Runoff slag belched from the great sub-surface pipes accounts for the majoirty of the pollution that has killed off most aquatic life in the region, and production these days is more robust than it has ever been. The rarely seen chief smelter, Vulgan Durtch, is one of the richest men in Diamond Lake, but few neighbors know anything about him.
A tower on the building's northwest corner serves as the residence and workshop of Benazel the Alchemist, a talkative chemist from the Free City who oversees the alchemical rituals and regents necessary for the smelting process and who makes a minor fortune selling potions from his first-floor office.
Diamond Lake Boneyard
The town's overcrowded cemetery used to be a great source of bodies for medical students in the Free City and unscrupulous necromancers, but the Cult of the Green Lady has put a stop to that. Throughout the day, a handful of green-robed acolytes wander the cemetery chanting songs holy to Wee Jas while tending graves and clearing vines and mude from stone markers dating back hundreds of years. Tales abound that one coffin in the boneyard -- no one is sure just which one -- contains not a dead body, but dozens and dozens of gold bars.
Governor-Mayor Lanod Neff's sprawling manor house squats atop the hill overlooking Diamond Lake, a tangle of scaffolding, wires, and workcrews. Protected by a wooden stockade wall, the manor houses the political apparatus of the town, including several meeting rooms, a courthouse, and numerous bedchambers for visiting dignitaries and (just as frequently) Lanod Neff's countelss cronies and concubines.
Visitation with the governor-mayor is by appointment only, with an audiences sometimes taking weeks to arrange.
This iron ore mine has kept strong for centuries, predating the formal establishment of Diamond Lake as a vassal of the Free City of Greyhawk. Ragnolin Dourstone has managed the mine since the very beginning, when he chose this spot seemingly at random.
This worn old stone ring is often visited by residents of the Bronzewood Lodge, and is sacred to druids and rangers, a relic from a time when teh laws of the wilderness governed man as well as animals.
This crumbling abandoned observatory once housed an order of monks obsessed with the heavenly bodies of the nighttime sky.
This squat, well-protected manor is the home of Ragnolin Dourstone, who is one of Diamond Lake's most responsible mine managers.[/sblock]
DIAMOND LAKE'S HINTERLANDS[sblock]Beyond the streets of Diamond Lake is a jagged expanse of wilderness. Wandering bands of militia patrol the region, keeping it mostly safe for the merchants, pilgrims, and travelers heading to and from the Free City of Greyhawk. The following locations, while technically outside the town limits, play important roles in local affairs.
The Twilight Monastery
About two hours north of Diamond Lake, a towering crag called the Griffon’s Roost casts a dark shadow over the muddy road to Elmshire. From a perch hundreds of feet above looms the cat-infested Twilight Monastery, a three-towered monument to an obscure philosophy of the Distant West. Two score monks dwell within the monastery, dedicating themselves to a litany of exercises meant to perfect the body and spirit. The secretive monks hold dusk as the holiest of hours, and sonorous chants emit from the Twilight Monastery’s central courtyard when the night sky appears in the heavens. Foremost among the monks is Izenfen the Occluded, a peerless masked combatant thought to be one of the wisest figures in the hills. Travelers frequently seek her council, but most leave Diamond Lake without ever having gained access to the Twilight Monastery, for Izenfen deigns to speak with only a handful of pilgrims foretold to her via the agency of the night sky and an immense mirrored lens called the Censer of Symmetry. When word of the Censer’s predictive prowess spread to the miners of Diamond Lake 20 years ago, a desperate contingent petitioned Izenfen to predict the location of the richest unclaimed local ore deposits, appealing to her compassion with tales of starving children and dangerously unpaid debts. The masked mistress of the Twilight Monastery rebuffed their pleas, triggering the miners’ contingency plan—an ill-fated invasion of the monks’ compound that left seven miners dead. Immediately thereafter, Izenfen gathered a cadre of stealth assassins from the ranks of her best warriors, and silently set them upon the surviving invaders who still milked wounds in the petty shacks along Diamond Lake’s waterfront. Rumors suggest that Izenfen’s masked silent killers remain active to this day, citing the disappearance or mysterious deaths of nearly a dozen political enemies within the town.
The Bronzewood Lodge
The ring of crumbling menhirs on the bluff overlooking Diamond Lake is a remnant of an ancient human druidic culture that once inhabited the region. They too came to the hills for the ancient cairns, seeing them as monuments to great ancestors of the invisible past. Although modern humans displaced the native druids during great migrations over a thousand years ago, pockets of indigenous architecture and culture remain. Foremost among these near-forgotten practices is veneration of Obad-Hai, the Shalm, the brooding patron of wilderness and natural order. Druids and rangers who honor the Shalm and a host of minor nature deities and fey spirits (the so-called Old Faith) routinely congregate in great moots three hours northeast of Diamond Lake, at an ancient megalithic structure called the Bronzewood Lodge. Devotees of Ehlonna or the elven pantheon are welcome at these meetings, if a bit gruffly, but all other attendees must be invited personally by someone already within the circle of trust. A small permanent community inhabits the Lodge itself and the wooded copse surrounding it. Perhaps 30 assorted druids, rangers, and scouts protect the sacred site and keep watch on the nearby roads and valleys. Occasionally, they step in to rescue a traveler from some natural menace, but just as often they warn explorers to stay on the roads and let the wilderness take care of itself. Their leader is Nogwier, an aged proponent of the Old Faith who strives to keep the focus of his community on preservation of a near-extinct way of life and away from anger at the Free City and its operatives in Diamond Lake, whose avariciousness continually rapes the land.
The Cairn Hills
A few hundred years ago, intrepid explorers discovered a fantastic cache of priceless artifacts entombed in one of the hundreds of ancient burial complexes hewn into the crags surrounding the Free City of Greyhawk. The trove attracted legions of treasure-seekers to the Free City (then a mere trading post), and unbelievable wealth plundered from the tombs. The wealthiest explorers became the city’s first nobility, and the Free City quickly became associated with easy wealth and fabulous archeological artifacts from long-dead civilizations that appeared to predate the emergence of gnomes and dwarves in the region. But the wealth didn’t always come easy, as many of the forlorn tombs provided deadly surprises in the form of bound demon guardians, relentless constructs, and ingenious magical wards and traps. The hilly lands surrounding the City became known as the Cairn Hills, and the hunt for lost treasure became an important part of the region’s cultural heritage. But the treasure didn’t last forever. Eventually, the cairns dried out, and unplundered tombs became more and more difficult to locate. Every decade or so a lucky explorer managed to strike it rich, but even more came away from their endeavors with nothing more than broken ankles and clothes singed by the fires of ancient protections. Several vanished entirely. Over the years, the Cairn Hills began to lose their allure, and the City fell upon difficult times. Although abandoned cairns host no few bandit troupes and savage humanoid enclaves, two nonhuman communities play an important role in the Free City’s economy, so much so that they impact even the remote mining town of Diamond Lake. These are the gnome warren of Grossetgrottel and the dwarven stronghold of Greysmere.
Three days (by coach) northwest of Diamond Lake, the Cairn Hills Trail enters a region of steep crags pocked with natural caverns. Five of these caverns lead to an interconnected series of gnome villages called Grossetgrottel. The gnomes of Grossetgrottel specialize in rare gems rescued from the subterranean depths, but each of the five villages focuses on a different trade or specialization. All told, some 800 gnomes call the place home, though about a quarter as many “expatriates” live in the Free City itself or in the mining towns surrounding it. Able gnome wardens and gem-encrusted constructs stand vigil over the surface entrances to each community, and nongnome visitors are subject to the legendary gnome suspicion.
South of the immense Mistmarsh, the Cairn Hills jut up to become the Abbor-Alz Mountains, and in a tight valley stands the imposing dwarven fortress of Greysmere, its impressive stone-carved façade reflecting in the still waters of a placid mountain lake. Tall mountains completely surround the valley, making the citadel one of the most easily defended locales in the region. Unusually for the dwarves, Greysmere stands open to all visitors, who are welcome in the enclave’s upper markets and vast, agoraphobia-inducing galleries. More than 400 dwarves dwell within Greysmere, under the guidance of Fionor the Rude, a downright mean little fellow who invites all new guests to his dinner table in hopes that they might provide a moment’s entertainment. Despite his boorishness, Fionor respects those who command respect, and is a trustworthy friend.
Cairn of the Green Lady
Far less welcoming are the brooding inhabitants of the Cairn of the Green Lady, a reclaimed tomb on the opposite shore of Diamond Lake itself. Cloaked in robes of green and quick to threaten outsiders, these two-score devotees of the death goddess Wee Jas honor a fallen saint of that deity with mournful prayers to departed spirits and mysterious explorations of the hills nearby. They base themselves in the tomb of this departed servant of the Dark-Eyed Lady, whom they believe died during a great migration of humans across the treacherous hills more than a thousand years ago. Diamond Lake’s Governor-Mayor Lanod Neff trusts the cultists only because they protect the town’s boneyard from the sinister attentions of the community’s most depraved residents. The order’s leader, the enchanting Amariss, is always on the lookout for new recruits.[/sblock]
DRAMATIS PERSONAE[SBLOCK]I thought it would be a good idea to have a listing of folks whom you would know of and might know personally in the village of Diamond Lake (in alphabetical order). Anyone with at least 1 rank in Knowledge (local) would have all of this information. Once you've met them IC, I'll change their names to a different color.
AURIC (Human M): Braggart who claims to have won the Maiden's Belt from the Freecity of Greyhawk's gladitorial games. While the belt looks authentic, none has found the resolve to truly question him on it. Perhaps this has to do with the spiked gauntlets and the huge arms that they cover. *met by Shadow*
ALLUSTAN (Human m): Wizard and "the smartest man in town"
CHEZABET (Human f): Emporium fortune teller
VELIAS CHILDRAMUN (Human m): Fatherly cleric of Hieroneous
DIETRIK CICAEDA (Human m): Chief Cartographer of Diamond Lake
SHERRIF CUBBIN (Human m): Corrupt Sheriff of Diamond Lake
RAGNOLIN DOURSTONE (Dwarf m): Mine manager
DANNATH (Human f): Lazare's daughter and hostess of his House
VALKUS DUN (Human m): High priest of Hieroneous
TYROL EBBERLY (Human m): Weapon dealer, owner of the "Captain's Blade"
CHAUM GANSWORTH (Human m): Mine manager
ARIELLO KLINT (Halfling m): "The Combustible Magician", entertainer at The Emporium
KURLAG (Half-ogre m): Bouncer at The Emporium
LAZARE (Human m): Proprietor of Lazare's House and dragonchess enthusiast
MELINDE (Human f): Charming young warrior priestess of Hieroneous
ELLIVAL MOONMEADOW (Elf m): Mine manager
GOVERNOR-MAYOR LANOD NEFF (Human m): Rules Diamond Lake for the Free City of Grehawk
NOGWIER (Human m): High cleric of the Bronzewood Lodge
LUZANE PARRIN (Human f): Mine manager
PURPLE PROSE (Elf f): Madame of The Midnight Salute
MERRIS SANDOVAR (Human m): Chief Scout of Militia
TOM SHINGLE (Boggle m): Emporium contortionist
BALABAR SMENK (Human m): Mine manager
SHAG SOLOMON (? m): "The Wild Gentleman", entertainer/freak in the Emporium
TIDWOAD (Gnome m): Gem monger and proprietor of Tidwoad's
GELCH TILGAST (Human m): Mine manager
TOLLIVER TRASK (Human m): Militia garrison's aging commander, and father of Sergeant Jorun Trask. *met by Jorun Trask*
DOBRUN TRENT (Half-elf m): Militia lieutenant
MIKKELA VENDERIN (Human f): Militia lieutenant
VENELLE (Half-elf f): Bowyer/fletcher for Diamond Lake and mentor to Orin Heartwood. *met by Orin
JIERIAN WIERUS (Human m): Flagellant high priest of St. Cuthbert
ZALAMANDRA (Human f): Queen of the Veiled Corridor
WILLIAM (Dwarf M) Lazare's Doorman and right hand to Dannath. While he allows any to enter if they mind their manners, there are few he considers truly worthy of spending time in Lazare's House. *met by Damien*
KHELLEK: (Human M): One of Auric's companions and apparently the brain behind Auric's brawn and Tirra's brashness. A cynical man, he enjoys the game of Dragonchess and is said to be Lazare's equal at the game. Although Lazare merely smiles and waves away such claims, the fact that he has not met the stranger's challanges has given many a pause to ponder if it is true. *met by Damien, overheard speaking by Shadow
TIRRA (Elvish f): Flirtatious elvish woman fond of playing Rings at the Feral Dog. Using her skill, as well as her beauty, with her daggers, she has not lost a match since arriving in Diamond Lake three days ago. *met by Damien[/sblock]
PICTURE OF DIAMOND LAKE MINERS[SBLOCK]
PICTURE OF GARRISON MILITIA[SBLOCK]
PICTURE OF BALABAR SMENK[SBLOCK]
PICTURE OF THE WIZARD ALLUSTAN[SBLOCK]
PICTURE OF KULLEN, LEADER OF A DIAMOND LAKE CRIMINAL GANG[SBLOCK]
PICTURE OF RAGNOLIN DOURSTONE[SBLOCK]