"Bad" Treasure

   Last winter, people on Twitter talked about the new Pathfinder book, and they noted that most of the treasure troves provided within were “questionably sourced.” Their words, not mine.

   But it got me thinking: what is a perfectly “good” treasure?

   Obviously, it would need to be collected with full voluntary consent from each and every contributor – but that is no longer treasure, it’s a fundraiser.

   What is the very first treasure a party of adventurers might find at level 1 in The Keep on the Borderlands? Let’s assume it’s the Mad Hermit’s treasure. Dagger +1, Potion of Invisibility, Ring of Protection +1, 31 g.p. and 164 s.p.

   Upon finding this modest stash, the party should immediately turn back, stop looking for those infamous Caves of Chaos, return to the Keep forthwith, and start investigating. What travelers were robbed of a dagger +1? What nearby farm was recently burglarized? Who lost 31 gold pieces? Is there any story about a lost Potion of Invisibility?

   That +1 dagger belonged to someone before it came in the Hermit’s possession. It should be returned.

   That potion was intended perhaps for a wizard’s unjustly detained mother. It should be handed back.

   Those 31 gold pieces were stolen from various shrines and temples in the country. They should be redistributed.

   Abandoned shrines... Ruined cities... Forgotten temples...

   Maybe they were not abandoned willingly. Maybe the people who built and maintained those places were forced out by an epidemic or some other gruesome calamity – and they couldn’t haul everything away with them? Does it make it fair game? Pompeii is destroyed by a volcano; the magic item that is later recovered from Marius’ house should become the property of Marius’ niece who lives in Rome, right?

   A sword +1 doesn’t just appear out of the blue one day. A wizard had to craft it and enchant it, and the finished weapon was surely meant for someone very specific, maybe the wizard’s nephew, or a trusted ranger friend, or the local castellan. How that sword was taken from the castellan or the ranger or the wizard’s nephew ain’t relevant: it should be handed back to its rightful owner, period.

   See where I’m going with this?

   Locals don’t usually venture into ruined temples or abandoned tombs, because they respect tradition and fear the wrath of the gods – or spirits – or ancient fallen warriors – or whatever. Venturing into ruined temples and abandoned tombs is a foreigners’ thing, like those British “explorers” who went to Egypt in the 1880s. They were no explorers, mind you. Just bored rich guys. The poor working man stuck in a remote mining town in South Wales couldn’t afford to go fool around with his peers in far-off Egypt.

   Is that what a party of adventurers in D&D actually is? Bored, rich folks who can afford to leave their villages and go break into ruined temples and forgotten tombs?

   Let’s take a step back.

   What are the most famous treasures of all?

   Ali Baba’s treasure

   It’s been a while since I read One Thousand and One Nights, but the hoard hidden within that “Open Sesame” cave belongs to the Forty Thieves, right? These guys were not even Rogues, no; just plain old thieves, like in First Edition AD&D. Questionably sourced, for sure.

   Also, the Forty Thieves are stupid. Why have a cave full of unimaginable riches that just sit there, doing nothing? They should put all that money in hedge funds – like the normal thieves do.

   Smaug’s treasure

   It’s been a while since I read The Hobbit, but I don’t recall Smaug volunteering to work with special needs children in Esgaroth and receiving lots of gifts from the very grateful parents. It’s more likely that he ravaged the town several times over the years, and made off with everybody’s own little retirement fund. Same thing he had done to Dale and the Lonely Mountain. Questionably sourced, yes.

   Treasure Island’s treasure

   It’s been a while since I read Treasure Island, but the titular Treasure, which is buried in several locations on the Island, is what old Flint amassed during years and years of piracy throughout the West Indies: Spanish merchants, French traders, English passenger ships and Portuguese caravels. Questionably sourced, arr!

   As for real-life treasures, most of the time they’re just rumors, and so it’s even harder to tell if they’re “good” treasures. Chances are, they are not.

   The Templars’ treasure? The Templars had some gold in each of their monasteries, but not the unique Treasure Tower people talk about. What would have been the point? They were bankers – they needed a gold reserve at every one of their major “branches,” not all in one place.

   Captain Kidd’s treasure? This madman made just one voyage as a pirate captain, and captured three ships. Then his own vessel wasn’t seaworthy anymore, and Kidd had to leave it behind in Madagascar. How much gold are we talking about here? They didn’t capture a friggin’ Spanish galleon. His men probably spent it all on rum and whores.

   The Nazis’ gold? Confiscated jewelry and art collections, sure; but there ain’t no massive iron chest full of eagle-stamped gold bars buried somewhere in Argentina.

   Oak Island’s treasure? Gimme a break. There is no treasure on Oak Island. This whole affair started when two kids noticed an odd circular depression in the ground. Who in the world is dedicated enough to dig a 100-foot pit and then refill it, and careless enough to leave a depression to mark the spot? It makes no sense.

   King Tut’s treasure? This one’s real all right, but it was grave robbery. If I ransack King Henry III’s sepulchre in Westminster Abbey, they’ll throw me in jail. But a Pharaoh’s final resting place, that’s okay? Again, bored rich guys. Questionably sourced.

   I also have a bone to pick with the verb sourced, believe it or not.

   “Sourcing” implies a contractual agreement between parties. Outsourcing: having something made in another country. Crowdsourcing: having something created by many collaborating individuals.

   If you take a walk through the woods and happen to pick up a couple perfect mushrooms, you can’t say they were sourced from the woods; there wasn’t any contract there. The mushrooms were right where they’re supposed to be. You just picked them up. Let’s not invent fancy new verbs for old things. Even the yogurt I ate this morning is made with “peaches harvested in Canada.” Harvested, not sourced.

   But I digress – as I often do.

   Treasure troves are always “bad.” They’re questionable. Sane people don’t amass treasure.

   Smaug is evil.

   Kidd was crazy.

   The Templars were corrupt.

   The Forty Thieves were, well, thieves.

   Now, what does it say about your own treasure-hauling character?

   They, too, are crazy.

   Yep.

   We play these games because they allow us to be crazy. It’s a luxury that real life can’t provide anymore.

   That’s the real treasure.