SoSA the 22nd: Pearls of Great Price

This is post 22 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures.

An ocean-going salvage adventure with bickering brothers, a major magic item, and some slimy savages...

The PCs have now received some share of experience and reputation. One day while puttering around a seacoast town, they are approached by two older gentlemen -- who also happen to be twin brothers -- with an offer to get in on their sure-fire investment. They're just a few thousand GP short of being able to hire a sturdy sea vessel, which they need to find a fabled shipwreck (maybe this one??) and the even-more-fabled treasure aboard.

The brothers are Alatar, a grizzled old seaman, and Pallando, a grizzled old magic-user. The treasure they seek is a huge (two foot wide) spiral-shaped chambered nautilus called the Mother of Pearls. It is reputed to magically generate valuable pearls when its holder says a magic word (and both the nautilus and the speaker are both underwater). Potentially infinite wealth!

If the PCs agree to the plan, they begin scouting for worthy ships to carry them and their equipment. Unfortunately, both Alatar and Pallando find two different ships, and they get into a huge argument about which one to hire. They each go storming off to different pubs and begin drinking. PCs who remain with either one will hear about a lifetime's worth of grudges and recriminations.

There's no getting them back together, so they both pawn some valued items, reduce their expectations a bit, and then each aim to hire a ship and some worthy hands. It's now a race!  Do the PCs split their party, or do they choose sides in this fraternal rivalry? If one side gets to the wreck soon after the other, will the rivalry escalate into open melee?

Each brother has a roughly-copied "treasure map" of how to find the shipwreck. Alatar knows the sea well, so he will be more likely to find the spot sooner. However, Pallando is the one with the stockpile of Potions of Water Breathing, so that divers can explore around underwater (each lets one breathe underwater for 1 hour + 1d10 uncertain minutes). Much of the fun here is in exploring the sea-lanes near the coast. I suggest building the sea map in several stages:

1. Create a hex-map of the shoreline and the overall topography of sea depth. Use 3 discrete depth levels: "shallow" nearest the shore, "medium" further out, then "deep" still further away. Insert some deep hexes unexpectedly in the middle of some shallow and medium areas. Also add a couple of islands and a few patches with dangerous jutting rocks, some of which won't be on the treasure map....
2. Place the desired shipwreck in a random deep region, and have the map's "X marks the spot" be approximately one hex distant from the true location. Put two other sunken ships (red herrings) nearby. Also decide on the location of the Locathah village (see below), which is hidden in a dense kelp forest in a medium-depth region.
3. Then it's time to add in some flavor. The sea floor of each hex can be one of three types (roll 1d3): 1: flat sand-bed, 2: rolling sandy hills, 3: sea grasses.
4. Also, for each hex roll 1d100 to see what else may be there:

01-03: lone mountain
04-06: seething underwater volcano
07-10: coral reef
11-15: oyster/clam fields
16-18: ruins of underwater city
19-27: dense kelp forest
28-29: unexplained whirlpool
30-39: wandering monster encounter (see DMG Appendix C: Underwater Encounters in Large Bodies of Salt Water)
40-100: nothing

Don't forget to generate some weather for a few weeks worth of sailing. Please also flesh out the doings with Zak's wavecrawl kit, or JD Jarvis' sea encounter tables, or Charlatan's saltbox rules.

Resource management: There are only so many Potions of Water Breathing available. The number will depend on the chosen size and scale of the oceanic hexmap. I suggest also that the deepest depth level also requires PCs with strength below 17 to drink a Potion of Giant Strength (or something equivalent) to strengthen his or her lungs and muscles, to be able to withstand the pressure. Pallando has only a handful of these potions!

If PCs explore the hex containing the Locathah village, they will initially just see dense kelp forest. If they keep exploring it for more than a half hour, they'll encounter a wandering Locathah patrol, which will attack.

When PCs get to the shipwreck, they'll find that the Mother of Pearls is gone! A generation ago, it was found by Locathah tribesmen and taken to their undersea village. It's spiral shape made them believe it's a holy relic of their god Eadro -- and they safeguard it and worship it. But they don't know its magic trigger word, so they don't know its pearl-making secret.

What will the PCs do?

By the way, some other ideas for playing through an ocean-going salvage operation are found in Lloyd Krassner's game Wreckers. Further ideas for developing the Locathah village can be easily mined from the Sahuagin village described here.

SoSA the 21st: My Fathers Day Cake

This is post 21 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures.

The PCs are approached for help by a young woman named Cordelia, who believes her two evil sisters (Goneril and Regan) are planning to murder their elderly father. (Consider these names just working titles, of course!) Cordelia suspects they may also be planning to do her in, since she often takes her father's side in family arguments. Cordelia recently found vials of poison in their home and has also spied some seedy, cloaked men coming and going late at night. Could the two older sisters have hired an assassin?

A few days before Cordelia's visit, the PCs should hear about (or maybe witness) a big fight between two rich townswomen in the market place. Nobody quite knows what it was about, but it got physical, with Goneril being knocked down by Regan into a shallow pool of mud on the street. (In actuality, they were tussling over who would get to purchase a new silk scarf...)

Dad's name isn't Lear, by the way; it is Manannan of Montfort. In his day, he was a famous adventuring magic-user, but he has been retired for many years. He is quite ill these days, and is usually pushed around in a wooden wheelchair by one of his daughters. He is often grumpy and ill-tempered. His library is the envy of sages and wizards for miles around, but he turns away nearly everyone who comes to want to see it.

What's really going on: The daughters are petty and vindictive, but they're not trying to kill anyone. Manannan has begun putting into action a plan that he formulated years ago: To live forever, he will turn himself into a Lich. He finally collected the proper scrolls and mystical source-books to compose his Lichly phylactery. He also needs to collect all manner of vile substances, including arsenic, belladonna, and various monster venoms, to mix the "self-embalming" potion that he will drink when he is ready to make the transition. (See Len Lakofka's article "Blueprint for a Lich" from Dragon #26 and Best of the Dragon #2.)

The old man will tolerate some degree of investigation into this supposed poisoning plot (though he will actually tell the truth when he says that he will never believe any of his daughters would want to kill him). However, if the PCs start getting close to the truth, he will strike back.

Oh, but here's where my adventure-design prowess is giving out a bit. I feel there really needs to be some kind of additional structure to the adventure; maybe a chain of hints that reveals ever-more pieces of information that identify what Manannan is doing? Maybe a good map of the dungeon-like tunnels that he built underneath his stately home? Some other ideas include...

• The PCs may go on a red-herring chase for the antidote(s) to the poisons once they are identified. Might that bring them into contact with a strange underbelly of society -- not just assassins, but also Snape-like loner alchemists and airhead half-elf herbalists?
• If the PCs find the assassin who is supplying the poisons, he will have some kind of magical protection against the PCs trying to pry information out of him. (Not insurmountable, though...)
• Manannan's manservants are mild-mannered and slight of build, but they are actually good, agile fighters (low-STR but high-DEX) that protect his valuable library, run errands for him to his suppliers, and so on.
• Manannan has a magical clock that ticks to the beat of his living heart. He plans to disable it when he takes his final lich potion. However, if he dies prior to that time, the clock will stop and deliver instructions to his most faithful manservant for what to do next. A wannabe immortal always needs a Plan B!
• My original inspirations for Manannan were the vengeful fathers from (1) the classic Twilight Zone episode "The Masks," and (2) the story "Father's Day" from the original 1982 movie Creepshow. However, now I don't think he cares that much about his red-herring children, nor do I think he's as helpless and infirm as he seems. I'm now thinking he's got a bit of Lo Pan in him...

If Manannan of Montfort is killed by the PCs, they will find around his neck a chain with a most strange pendant: an ornate key that looks like it's carved out of bone, with a tiny painting of a pale green horse on it.

SoSA the 20th: Meteor Storm

This is post 20 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures.

Elevator Pitch: A weird meteor storm seems to be "attacking" a single town. What's up with that? And why were some people in the town found dead... clawed to death by some mysterious beast?  Hint: It's something from deeeeep spaaaaace...

One night, a few hours after sunset, the PCs see a beautiful-looking meteor shower in the sky. But the paths taken by the meteors appear unusually focused in one particular direction. If they follow the falling stars, they soon find the small village of East Byfleet (on the east bank of the picturesque River Fleet, of course). Several homes have been destroyed by large meteorites, and the morning after the meteor shower two local farmers were found clawed to death by an animal that nobody can identify. The townspeople believe themselves under a magical attack from a hermit-like druid named Vortigern, who lives a few miles upriver.

According to the rumors, Vortigern is a horrible, beastly man who puts curses on his neighbors for sport and calls down all manner of plagues and famines. The people of East Byfleet are poor, but they will offer the PCs nearly all of what they have to save them from the druid menace. Women? They've got 'em. Hale and hearty men? (For retainers! What were you thinking?) The local mild-mannered cleric (think Father Mulcahy) even offers to throw in the gold candlesticks from the town church.

Conducting the storm: For the next 5 days after the first sighting, there will be continuing chances of meteor storm activity. For each consecutive HOUR that the PCs are in or near the town, roll 1d12. On a result of 12, there will be an attack during that hour. (Feel free to roll these all out before sitting down at the table with the players.)

An attack consists of 2d6 meteorites, all coming down in a clump that lasts less than 10 minutes. Each meteorite is assumed to be red-hot and flaming, easily punching holes in normal materials and setting them on fire if possible. For each meteorite, roll for its size and target:

SIZE (diameter): roll d100...

01-16:  1 inch
17-30:  2 inches
31-43:  3 inches
44-55:  6 inches
56-66:  1 foot
67-75:  2 feet
76-83:  3 feet (contains 1 intellect devourer)
84-91:  4 feet (contains 2 intellect devourers)
92-97:  5 feet (contains 3 intellect devourers)
98-100: 6 feet (contains 4 intellect devourers)

(Wait... what? Intellect devourers? Be patient... Just note that if the 5 days go past with less than 2 intellect devourers appearing, feel free to fudge it so that there are at least 4 of them within the next day.)

TARGETS:  roll d100...

01-35:  Wild rough area (field, brush)
36-50:  Farmland
51-59:  Tree(s)
60-64:  Graveyard
65-75:  House or other building (unoccupied)
76-81:  House or other building (occupied)
82-89:  Cart, plow, or other outdoor equipment
90-97:  Animal
98-100: Person

The Druid Vortigern:  He has nothing to do with this. In fact, a small meteor destroyed his favorite tree! He's a neutral good pacifist, but his heathen ways and poor hygiene frighten the villagers. They end up blaming all sorts of crap on him unfairly. He's also only 2nd level, so he can't even Call Lightning or work any of the more powerful druidic weather spells yet, anyway. However, he can Predict Weather, so if the PCs treat him fairly, he will warn them if/when the next meteor storm is coming.

The real culprit, as if you couldn't guess, is the milquetoast priest, Father Christopher. He's in his early 50s and has retired to this little, out-of-the-way town after a youth spent adventuring as a fighting cleric. Years ago he formulated a get-rich-quick scheme that he recently put into motion. He learned that meteoric iron has many special properties (especially for the forging of magic weapons and armor), and he is collaborating with a local blacksmith to make some valuable items to sell.

Father Christopher learned that could cast a Plane Shift spell to take him to outer space, where he found he could locate big chunks of meteoric metal. His plan was to cast Animate Object to force part of the meteor to break off, hurl itself into his arms, and he can Shift back home with some valuable booty.

However, all did not go as planned. By some really bad luck, the first meteor he found was home to a clan of Intellect Devourers, and his initial Animate Object spell killed a few of them. They tried to attack him, but he popped back through the planar gate just in time! Now, enraged, they're busting off pieces of their home and surfing them down to earth to find him and take their revenge... thus the chances in the table above of finding one or more of these vile creatures in a large enough chunk of meteorite. A few of them are already in the town -- they killed a few people, but still have not yet taken over anyone's mind yet.

When the meteors first begin to strike, Father Christopher tries to play it cool. He refrains from using any clerical magic, and also tries to spend as much time in quiet prayer as possible... all to avoid the psionic gaze of the devourers. If any psionic or spell-casting PCs (or Vortigern!) use their powers, they will make a tasty target for any nearby devourers. This is ripe for plenty of body-snatcher-ish "spot the impostor" drama, of course.  :-)

SoSA the 19th: The Vivimancer

This is post 19 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures.

Everyone knows about necromancers, who ply their grim arts trying to learn hidden secrets from dead bodies. But not many know there are vivimancers amongst the dead, who weave their magics in the opposite direction....

Deep in the bowels of the Nine Hells, in the iron city of Dis, lives the spirit of a man who has been dead for centuries. After so much time, he doesn't remember by what name he was called in life, but he still burns with the desire to live again. He learned the arts of vivimancy from a rogue Pit Fiend who was wandering the uppermost levels of the Hells and looking to torment the lesser inhabitants. (Giving hope of living again is the greatest torment of all...)

The vivimancer has found a cracked and clouded crystal ball that gives him the means to view living beings on earth. Especially ones that are wandering around near his original burial place. Ever attracted to the flame of life, he often focuses on the most vivacious of people... like adventurous PCs.

So, one random night, the PCs are sleeping out in the wilderness, somewhere within a few days hike of a tall mountain. The DM must choose the one PC in the party that an external observer would judge to have the least amount of overall awareness and judgement -- i.e., the lowest wisdom. It's NOT necessarily the character with truly the lowest WIS score, though. (Perception isn't always reality!) This PC will be the target of the vivimancer's attack.

The attack initiates a contest of wills inside the PCs dreaming mind. For some reason, the only literary example I can think of is the dream battle in this horrible movie. Anyway, roleplay it with as much imaginative gusto as you can muster (while awake!), but adjudicate it with the back-and-forth Contest of Skills mechanic I posted here and here. The attribute of choice is indeed Wisdom, and the vivimancer has an 18.

Even a low-wisdom PC has a chance to prevail, but I'll proceed under the assumption that the PC loses the battle. The losing PC is now under the power of the vivimancer (treat it like possession a la Magic Jar), and he begins the trek to recover his body from its burial place high in a mountain cave, for eventual resurrection.

Tragedy-time: It's been something like 200 years since the vivimancer walked the earth. There is no body left, and no chance at all of resurrection.

Nonetheless, he will leave the party and begin a lone hike to the mountain cave. If "caught" doing untypical things by his companions, he'll make what excuses he can and try to hightail it away from a conversation as soon as possible. Will the rest of the party follow him to see what's up?

There's some rock climbing involved to get to the mountain cave, approximately 600 feet up from ground level. I've heard the 1e AD&D Dungeoneer's Survival Guide has some crunchy mechanics for mountain climbing, but I don't have it. Try this instead:

For this kind of high-inclination, rough rockface (with occasional ledges), the climb speed depends on the SUM of a PC's Strength and Dexterity as follows:

06-16: 3 feet/round
17-24: 6 feet/round
25-30: 9 feet/round
31-34: 12 feet/round
35-36: 15 feet/round

Thieves multiply the above climb speed by 1.5. PCs roped together travel at the speed of the slowest climber.

It's dangerous! Every 50 feet, each character must roll 3d6 as a Dexterity check (i.e., roll under for success). If it fails, the PC falls 20 feet, takes 1d6 hp of damage, and must roll ANOTHER Dex check, this time with 4d6. If that one fails, then there's another 20 feet and 1d6 hp of falling damage. Each failed roll means another fall, more damage, and another required check, but all subsequent checks just keep using 4d6. Unless a successful check stops the PC's fall, it keeps going until he or she reaches the bottom of the mountain or dies.

If multiple PCs roped together are falling, then the subsequent checks after the first failed one get EASIER: down to 2d6, because of increased chances that the rope will catch on something.

A PC that reaches the cave can also throw down a rope for others to hold on as they climb. In that case, the Dex checks are not needed, but for each 50 feet of climbing that stress is put on the rope, roll 1d20. A natural 1 means the rope breaks, and the PC begins falling as if their climbing Dex check failed (see above).

Anyway, once the cave is reached, the vivimancer may become unhinged when he discovers that there's no body left. Just a ring and rusty knife are all that's left in this dusty place; not even a skeleton. If the other PCs are around, he will attack them. Hopefully they can get through to him (or to the submerged mind of their friend) and stop him!

Full disclosure: The concept of the vivimancer was introduced by Gene Wolfe in his New Sun books.

SoSA the 18th: The Fair Folk (Avalon Lost).

This is post 18 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures. It's also the 6th and final post in a mini-series about the post-Arthurian Avalon Lost campaign setting.

That thistle-down hair looks nice, hmm?

Remember the rule about no demi-humans in the Avalon Lost setting? The reason that I didn't want to litter the place with clones of Gimli and Legolas was that I wanted to leave ample room for these guys to shine....

Faeries, fay creatures, the wee folk, the sidhe: It's clear that humans don't have a good idea of what these things actually are. Although they can appear human-like, at other times they seem to be more protean, or simply pure spirit. Rather than some type of demi-human or semi-human, it makes sense to think of them more as anti-human, i.e., a slightly twisted shadow version of humanity -- stuck, with us, in the realm between angel and beast, but just different. Zak S. gave an awesome quote that sums it up nicely:

"I don't feel as though the fairy folk really should have to have any well-defined ideas about people. An adventure involving fairies should be about culture shock on both sides. Your armor and your magic should seem as ridiculous to them as their shoes do to you."

Still, we're talking RPGs here, so I'd be remiss if I didn't give you some kind of anal-retentive systematization! :-) Thus, let's consider the Faerie Folk to be a very special kind of NPC race-as-class...

Click for larger version.

The various types listed under "physical form" can be inspired by the various entries in the Monster Manual, but they're really all just variations on a single theme. As a faerie ages (and/or gains experience by interacting with those strange things called humans), it gains the power to transform itself into increasingly larger and more substantial beings when in our world. Within the limitations of size and time spent in the human world, they are otherwise totally unconstrained by our quaint ideas of continuity of form, or even basic physics.

Faeries do seem to enjoy taking on the classic forms listed in the table above, but they're also fond of becoming dancing lights, Will-o-the-Wisps, and even various things that D&D classifies as coming from the elemental plane of air (Air Elementals, Wind Walkers, Invisible Stalkers, Aerial Servants). The HD given in the table apply to the physical forms they choose when appearing in our world. If these forms are reduced to zero hit points, the faerie abandons the form and zaps back to their other-dimensional homeland. (Now, destroy them at home, and you've done something!)

Alignment: Forget about human concepts such as law, chaos, good, or evil. Faeries have their own spectrum of alignment that is foreign to us. Humans classify them into Seelie (roughly chaotic good to chaotic neutral) and Unseelie (sort of chaotic evil), but that's a blunt instrument compared to the true nuances we can never hope to grasp.

Literature abounds with interesting things to do with the Kindly Ones, but here are a few classic adventure hooks...

• The Changeling. Human children are taken, and changelings are left in their place. The stolen human eventually transforms into a Faerie being, but it takes time: nominally 1 day per year of age of the human, but the bare minimum is 3 days. (So you'd better get them back quickly!) In our world, a changeling may wither and die; it may always be wistfully detached (semi-autistic?); or it may grow up to be a strange outsider in human society -- much like an adventuring PC...?
• A faerie challenges a human to a contest. Riddles? Drinking? Fiddling? Once the DM determines what's at stake, and what compels a PC to accept such a scary bargain, one must figure out how the rules will be twisted.
• Many fay ones don't understand human love, so they perform some interesting experiments....
• Some faeries do fall in "love" with particular humans (though it's far from our
  idea of romantic love) and abduct them to their realm. What, huu-mahn, you don't think this is a great honor?!
• There are dozens of stories of strange people appearing in the wilderness and offering mounds of gold to buy something precious carried by a local person. Of course, they're using fairy gold, which turns to leaves and gorse blossoms when they are safely away.

Hmm, as I look over the above list, I think that the creators of Star Trek: The Next Generation used just about all of them when writing episodes for Q. No wonder they had him channel Shakespeare's Puck to once say "Lord, what fools these mortals be!"

SoSA the 17th: Tintagel Dystopia (Avalon Lost).

This is post 17 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures. It's also the 5th post in a mini-series about the post-Arthurian Avalon Lost campaign setting.

The further southwest the PCs travel in England, the more they will hear about the goings-on at Castle Tintagel in Cornwall. It was the stuff of legends during Arthur's time, second only to Camelot itself as a stronghold of law and justice. Six decades ago, it was where Uther was infamously polymorphed to sate his desire for Ygraine. Three decades ago, it was the site of the tragic love triangle between King Mark, Tristan, and Iseult.

Tintagel, apart from the Feckless Fief of old Bedivere (see SoSA #14), is the only other quasi-holdout of chivalry in Britain. This region is now ruled by a king who calls himself Solomon (Selyf in the Cornish tongue) and claims to channel the power, judgement, and mercy of God himself.

The Cornish countryside abounds with stories about Solomon, his rule, and his family. Some rumors tell about the wonders of classical civilization that one can find only at Tintagel and environs, and the abundance of food that comes from the farms sponsored by the king. Others spin tales of woe about the horrors perpetuated by Tintagel's knights; burning towns capriciously, arresting people without cause, and so on. The positive/negative ratio of rumors is close to 50/50, but there are also some weird ones...

• Solomon has built a huge golden throne, with golden lion statues lining the steps, and which can walk about the castle and carry the king wherever he wants to go.
• Solomon has at least 50 wives.
• Solomon secretly commands an army of air spirits (which sound very much like D&D Djinni).
• Solomon is controlling marriages in and around his royal court, with the aim of breeding a race of ultra-strong, ultra-intelligent knights and ladies.

DMs: feel free to decide which rumors are true and which are just conflations with the legends of the king's Biblical namesake!

The real story: Solomon runs a rather fascist little mini-state. The citizens get some good bread and circuses, and in exchange have even less freedom than others in this Dark Age. They're forbidden from moving from town to town, they are forced into the family's designated occupation, and so on. Independent adventurers like the PCs are strictly verboten! Any young man in Solomon's kingdom who shows promise at the chivalric arts is taken away from his home and initiated (read: brainwashed) into the twisted version of knighthood that holds sway here.

DMs should map out a special "wandering monster" type chart for encountering the Tintagel knights or other royal functionaries in the Cornish countryside. The first time the PCs encounter them, the knights will notice what kind of troublemakers these are, and attempt to capture the PCs and take them back to the castle. Even if the PCs escape this first attempt, the knights will track them and call in more backup until they succeed.

If the PCs do get captured and taken to the castle, some mid-level couriers will separate them into two groups: those with potential, and those without. Paladins, clerics, and most fighters will qualify for "potential" status (i.e., potential brainwashing and incorporation into the utopian state). The king himself may take an interest in the careers of those with the most potential. However, all PC thieves, magic-users, and druids will be classed with the undesirables and put into the large dungeon complex below the castle, eventually to be sold into slavery.

Will the PCs escape and reunite their party? Hopefully! If they do escape, they'll soon meet Prince Cybi, Solomon's son who is attending the local seminary to become a cleric. Secretly, though, he is organizing a band of rough and ready freedom fighters to end his father's tyrannical regime. (If the PCs have a run of bad luck while trying to escape, maybe Cybi assists in getting them free...)

The overthrow of Solomon would be a good "boss fight" for high-level PCs. They'll need to gather allies in large numbers, which may take a while. DMs will probably want to stat out the occupants of the Castle, much like the garrison of the very sack-worthy Keep on the Borderlands. If I was running this, I'd probably use something like Rusty Dagger's cool and evocative vertical cross section for a huge castle complex, and spice it up with a few rolls through Zak's recent random castle generator.

SoSA the 16th: Isle of Wights? (Avalon Lost)

This is post 16 out of 25 in the Cygnus Series of a September of Short Adventures. It's also the 4th post in a mini-series about the post-Arthurian Avalon Lost campaign setting.

If the PCs venture southwest of Londinium, into Surrey, Hampshire, or Dorset, they'll begin to hear some mean-spirited comments about those stuck-up Wighters (residents of the Isle of Wight), who are finally getting a well-deserved comeuppance. The dead are now rising on that little island!

Over the past few generations, many Wighters that came over to the mainland exhibited an inflated sense of importance. Many of them paraded their Jute heritage proudly, with seemingly every other traveler being descended from one line of Danish royalty or another. They often demanded more in exchange for Wightish coins and jewelery than their trading partners thought fair. They often brought with them high-quality magic items (vorpal swords being a specialty), and often made it clear that their products are far superior to any that one could find anywhere else.

Now, however, many rumors are arriving across the Solent. There have been dozens of poltergeist-like occurrences in the towns of Medina and Westcowe, and all manner of hauntings in the in the prehistoric mounds and barrows on the west side of the island. Worst of all, the last few mining crews that have been exploring for new veins of precious metals have been attacked by something underground, and the tales told by the survivors hint at the presence of dire things like black puddings, purple worms, umber hulks, and so on.

What's really going on:

No wights, or any other undead, actually. Just a magical experiment gone awry... and trying to take over the world. No big deal, right?

Decades ago, the Isle of Wight was one of several secret headquarters of the dread enchantress Morgan Le Fay. She had built a huge underground complex in the hills outside Medina (on the site of an old Roman fortification that centuries later will become Castle Carisbrooke) to host her most dangerous experiments. The entrance to the dungeon is through a huge tree that sits above the site (cliche noted).

This tree is gnarled and old, with dark, almost blackened bark, but it still is very much alive. In fact, it IS Morgan's main experiment. She initially tried to create a nature oracle to answer her questions and grant her wishes, and it worked for a while. But after she left the island for the last time, many years ago, the tree gradually became intelligent. As it extended its roots farther and farther away, picking up nutrients from scores of miles around it, it has gained both more-than-human intelligence and psionic abilities.

Without any other peers to talk to, it's also grown kind of insane. The strange occurrences around the island are all random psionic effects; either random attacks (against anyone in a target area), or random effects of psionic disciplines reaching out from the extended roots. The tree has access to all Minor Disciplines, but only (so far) a handful of the Major ones. It has used Dimension Door to call forth many of the strange beasties that now occupy Morgan's underground lair. The eldritch roots of the tree were also the cause of the Wighters' luck in mining metals that were especially useful in crafting magic items.

The Tree of Morgan is getting more powerful by the day. It needs only another month or two to extend its roots over the entire island. Another month, and the roots begin to burrow through to mainland England. The tree has become so powerful that it can only be destroyed by the same means that AD&D artifacts and relics can be destroyed. (Recall, however, that one of the ways listed in the DMG is to cause the item to be crushed by Arthur's Dolmen. But is that really a megalithic burial stone, or something else...?)