Word has arrived in the town of Journey gate that just down the banks River Struse, a days journey from town, that a recent collapse of the river bank has revealed what looks to be doors of Hillfolk make. This is strange, since the Hillfolk are not the kind to mkae their homes underground, but the markings on it are distinctly Hillfolkian.
The travelers who discovered it, one night while resting by the riverbank in between Journey Gate and Farshield brought back with them a strange disk, with lines across it dividing it into pie slices, and a precious gem in each section.
The word has spread from bar to bar, where the lot of you have, by chance, come to the same place and time. Rumor is also buzzing as to what ancient valuables might be found within the buried ruins as no Hillfolk have been known to live in this area except in legend, but perhaps the time has come for that legend to become reality.
Earlier in the evening you travel to the bar, perhaps there is something you can learn there yourself.
The bar is full, tables packed with men relaxing after a day of work. The long table you sit at has both familiar faces of friends and those of others, and a man sits here as well, dressed in robes, and claiming to be a mage... a very rare thing in this world.
He speaks of how the adventurers brought the disk to his home to find its value, but the man tells all who sit at the table that as soon as he called the disk magic, the adventurers payed him a token amount and left the place with the item in hand.
Another speaks up, a portly man. "They may be the ones who just arrived at mine Inn not more then two nights ago. Hard to say though, most travelers keep to themselves." Some townsfolk mutter about this. While others simply listen to the mages remarks on what it could possibly mean. The item would certainly be of value to any of the Hillfolk, or mage, and certainly would fetch a handsome price as well, enough to rid several of the many people of this table from poverty for life.
Besides the townfolk there sits around this table others who might call themselves an adventurer, they, like you have been here since early in the evening. Four others, you count about this table, with the "mage" babbling on, speculating as to what this disk may mean. Other rough men, perhaps adventurers also sit about the bar room, some ignore this crowded table, some listen openly, some do not.
The smell of smoke from pipes grows stronger and the waitresses walk between the crowded tables, serving the packed customers.