Deep within the ancient dwarven settlement of Milanec, there is a series of vaults extending in a long spiral down from the city’s upper edge, known to nearly all thaumaturges and thaumatechnicians as the home of what may be the first thaumaturgy truly worked upon the world. The entrance is plain, simple and functional in the dwarven style, little more than a doorway with thick curtains draped across it. To step through the curtains is to leave behind the somber darkness of the city and enter an echoing cathedral hall where every single surface glows with a soft light, collectively as bright as true daylight. This is the entry hall of the Cathedral of Light, a testament to the power of Thaumaturgy and Faith.
The citizens of the city make yearly trips through the long vaults, each one filled completely with an endless Script of identical runes, all linked together as they flow from the entry of the first hall through dozens of other halls, each one carved in a slightly different style from the ancient to the modern, all of them ablaze with Light. At the end of their trek, each resident takes up a small chisel, and with the aid of the Cathedral’s caretakers, they add a new rune to the script’s leading edge, extending the light a little further and making the entire assemblage a tiny fraction more powerful. It is a testament of the strength of their people, their faith, and the ability of both to withstand the test of time’s relentless hand.
The Cathedral is so old that no record exist detailing what circumstances brought it about, but it is known that the god the runes draw upon was once little more than a nascent Small God of illumination, whose scope was restricted to the city’s quiet streetlights. The ceaseless Script, each one a tiny, eternal prayer to the god, has amplified it, and the yearly ritual of the citizens, made as a gesture of faith, has amplified the deity into a God of Faith, whose Light spreads for leagues in all directions around the city, and the patron deity of Milanec itself.
The Cathedral’s caretakers watch the paths which residents walk each year, carefully re-etching the oldest runes to ensure that none ever go out or break the Script, and as each chamber nears completion, they begin work on the next cathedral hall, extending the hollow space into the darkness of the earth, waiting to be filled with the light of the faithful.
-It is long after Milanec was populated; the PCs, exploring the ancient ruins, come across the entrance to the Cathedral and find the long chain of halls, still blazing brightly after all this time. What do they make of this, if no record persists of the city and the people?
-Such a density of runes would normally provoke a buildup of thaumic energy, but the Cathedral does not. Thaumatechnicians want to find out why, while the people of Milanec resent the intrusion into their faith. Do the PCs side with one or the other? Do they learn the secret of the Halls? What if the Script is broken by an over-eager thaumatechnician?
-The God upon whom the Script draws begins to ail for unknown reasons; strange flickers of darkness ripple through the cathedral, to the concern of all. The caretakers approach the PCs, or put out a call for adventurers willing to look into the matter.
-A god of shadows and darkness resents the Cathedral and what it stands for; the god’s rune is similar to the rune that fills the hall, and servants of the deity intend to sabotage the script by introducing their own rune into the Cathedral, potentially causing a disastrous thaumic reaction that could leave the entire city a devastated magical wasteland.