Creation as the world comes into view.... stay tuned for more.
Current In Game Date is the 24th of Pharast 4714 AR, the season is springtime in the desert and the high today was 101 degrees. Night time temperatures are running around 71 degrees. The time is currently 5:00pm.
"Pharasma’s Needle stands proud in Wati’s necropolis, greeting mourners as they come to entomb their loved ones in the famous burial site. Seventeen hundred years ago, while the Pharasmin priest Nefru Shepses began the process of rebuilding the city, along with sealing away the dead part of the city from the living and consecrating the necropolis, a stone from the heavens streaked through the sky, plunging into the cool waters of the River Sphinx. Nefru Shepses decreed the celestial event was an omen of favor from the Lady of Graves, and he ordered workers to retrieve the stone from the riverbed. Stonecutters sculpted the meteorite into a capstone for an obelisk to be set in the city’s new necropolis as a symbol of Pharasma’s blessing for the city of Wati."
When you arrived in Wati, the walls wound like stone rivers, separating the old city from the new. Low buildings, painted white to reflect heat, clustered along wide avenues. Across their roofs you can see the Grand Mausoleum, the city’s temple to the death goddess, and a ruined statue of a sphinx out in the river. From the eastern side of the city rose a hill upon which noble estates sprawled, looking down on the bustling populace.
With the city packed there was but one place to stay so you guys set up shop at The Tooth and Hooka, a modest inn and hookah bar which is best known for its mascot, Toothy—a tiny crocodile that lives in the inn’s well. It's also the chosen lodging of many other adventuring groups, most of which you haven't had the chance to meet yet.. Everyone's just been too excited with the big day coming tomorrow. The priest intend to draw names and assign sites tomorrow, but for now ye have until nightfall to register or miss your opportunity.
Outside of the Tooth & Hookah you can see throngs moving through new Wati’s streets, arrayed in colorful caftans and buzzing with sound and life, while old Wati remains still and silent as the graveyard it is. Moving around in the streets you move past inns and houses, markets filled with brass lamps and striped rugs, and other merchants of all sorts. While Canvas awnings stretched over doorways, casting pools of shade on the avenue.
Most doorways are nothing more than hanging curtains during the day to try and get some relief from the heat. Most establishments are shaded and as dark as possible inside while still allowing just enough light to conduct whatever business is necessary . Most buildings are made with mud-brick walls as well to help ward off the sun. A fine layer of sand covers almost everything.
As you enter the Tooth and Hookah the floorboards rasp under your boots, a fine layer of sand covers the floor. You take a moment to scan the room. You had arrived in Osirion via the city of Sothis, and there you had stayed in an inn catering to foreigners before commissioning river travel to the south. That had been what you were used to when you thought of inns, and this place certainly was not.
Pillows shaped like crescent moons surrounded low, round tables. Water pipes of dinged and dented brass with painted enamel bases sat in the center of each table. Clay bowls filled with the stubs of unlit candles hung from the ceiling. Filtered light from the curtained doorway left the room dim.
It took you a moment to locate the bar among the many counters crowded against the walls. This inn seems more a miniature market than a tavern. Old books overflowed on a table next to a counter covered with cheap-looking necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. Wispy scarves embellished with tiny shining coins hung on a rack in a corner. The scarves, so like the ones worn by ethnic Varisian women you think to yourself. You finally locate the bar in the opposite corner: a tall, narrow table, its legs hidden by a cotton skirt patterned with faded yellow palm fronds, its surface covered with colored glass cups, bronze decanters, and an assortment of liquor bottles. A low stone ring at the end of the bar marked an indoor well.
The Tooth & Hookah seemed a popular place. Almost all the tables were occupied, mostly by Garundi that you quickly peg as locals, but a few by foreigners. No one took much notice of you as you entered. A haze of smoke hangs in the air, and you recognize the spicy scent of shisha tobacco. You make my way through the cloud and lean against an open spot on the bar. The fresh, mineral smell of a deep well wafts from the corner. You catch the barkeeps attention as he comes over to stand behind the bar in front of you.
Welcome to The Mummy's Mask! I will be your guide through many an old, dusty tomb in search of riches lost! Except that's not all you'll find for here there be Mummies! At some point anyways..
You can chime in as soon as the group is settled in the discussion thread and I have given the group approval to start posting.
Describe yourself or explore around a little bit. Whatever you like.
Maps and Images:
Tooth and Hookah sign outside of the Inn.
Farhaan the owner and barkeep at the Tooth & Hookah
Tooth & Hookah Map
Current Wati Map with Explored Locations
You all have arrived at the Tooth & Hookah either by chance or the fact that it is the only place in the city that seems to still have lodging available. The inn's common room is currently almost packed to capacity. There are a few that you peg as locals but most are obviously adventurers like yourself and most are looking to form teams since the priest at the Grand Mausoleum will only allow adventuring companies to sign up for the lottery and not individuals. So deals are being made, adventuring company charters are being signed and the inn is flush with activity. A pair of belly dancing girls perform in one corner as a bard plays some rhythmic concoction on his lute close to them. Servant girls are plenty busy trying to keep up with everyone, Farhaan is behind the bar trying to keep up with the bombardment of questions that are often being asked by various patrons in the establishment. All the activity is easy to figure out by just listening for a minute. It seems the priest at the Grand Mausoleum is only taking applications for the lottery until 8pm this evening and the time is now 5pm so to say that there is a little bit of a rush is an understatement.
Alexander limps into the Tooth & Hookah, leaning heavily on his cane with his right hand, his left hand holding the pole of a standard-flag against his left shoulder. Sweat is running down his face and neck in small rivers, staining his dusty clothes and falling on the floor, and his face is haggard. Despite this, the old man limps into the common room and finds himself a table where he can rest his back against the wall.
With a groan of mixed pain and relief, Alexander sits down. A clumsy snap of his wrist causes his flag to unfurl, and he manages to set it down so its legend can be seen by others in the room. A large raven, rampant, holding a glass of wine in its one paw and apparently toasting someone. There is a silly smile on its beak. Written beneath the black bird of ill omen stands the legend . A very odd sight indeed, considering the grim-faced man sitting beneath it and signalling the waitress for a glass of water...
... and signalling the waitress for a glass of water...
After a few minutes a serving girl makes her way to your table, she is a young girl, probably around 17 or so and has dark smooth skin and her black hair is in tiny braids, she is dressed in a very thin sheer outfit that is both revealing yet tasteful. After hearing your request she hastens up to the end of the bar and dips a tin mug into the well. After returning to you she sits it down in front of you. Suprisingly you can see condensation already forming on the cup. The water is actually cold. You think to yourself that the well must run pretty deep to bring water to the surface this cold. It has a strong mineral odor to it that catches against your nostrils before even taking a sip. Then you notice the serving girl still standing by you.
"Will there be anything else?" she ask.
"Yes, there will," Alexander says, his voice rough with road-dust. He tosses the cup of water back in one gulp. "Another, please," he says. Though his voice is now less dusty, the best that can be said about it, is that it is respectful and polite -- and sadly, very formal. "And may the Lady bless you for your speed and efficiency, young lady," he adds.
Alexander frowns momentarily, as he considers something, and looks the young woman up and down. The odd thing is, his look does not radiate any personal interest, such as men usually show pretty young woman in revealing outfits. It is more as if he is looking for qualities and comparing them to a mental checklist.
Having apparently found enough of them, the old man visibly steels himself, then asks: "Perhaps you might be able to help me with more than water, Miss... I am afraid I didn't catch your name.
In any case, a man may have passed through here. A young man; handsome, lively, pleasant to be around. His name was Timothy, Tim to, ah, the ladies with which he, ah..." Alexander's voice dies away in an embarrassed mumble. "This would have been a while ago, but you'd remember him," he finishes lamely.
Holbrecht wanders into the dim room and waits until his eyes adjust to it before moving. He heard this one still has rooms, unlike the others he had been to before now, but given how crowded it was he was doubtful. He can't help but shake his head in disappointment, as what they had in the way of any notable craftsmanship were primarily in the form of pillows. The water pipes, hookahs he heard them called, were interesting but served no real function beyond cooking tobacco. He would figure such level of innovation could be better put to use in creating something of more worth and function, but he was never surprised by the lengths people would go to for the sake personal pleasures.
Deciding that he should act before he's too late, he approaches what looks to be the proprietor to ask about a room. "Excuse me, but I need a room, obviously. Well, maybe not obvious... there are people here drinking and smoking... I guess this isn't just an inn... maybe it is an inn but a lot of the patrons smoke and drink...or are there customers that smoke and drink but don't stay?" Realizing the innkeep is just looking at him, he returns the conversation to include the man as well, "So, maybe it isn't obvious, but do you have any rooms available?"
@ Alexander
The serving girl rushes back up and fetches another cup of water and quickly returns, other patrons are trying to get her attention as she crosses the common room.
"My name is Ata and a lot of young men have passed through here in recent weeks. The name doesn't ring a bell but then again I am not always on shift." She then nods toward the bar.
"Farhaan would probably know, he is the owner and the one that seems to always be here. I don't know how he does it." she pauses momentarily looking at Farhaan, obviously swooning a little.
Turning her attention back to you "And if the ladies was his thing you could try talking to Sylva she is the dancer on the right." she says gesturing toward the belly dancers.
As she turns to head over to help another patron she says "Probably want to check out the Whispering Stone as well. More suited to the rowdier crowd than this place."
It's funny she didn't ask for any form of payment or suggest a tip. Maybe it is the fact that the inn is so busy at the moment or the fact that she is fairly new to the establishment. Usually common practice is to at least take a gold for a tab or exact payment as one goes so no one skips out on anything they owe. But hey water may be free, however doubtful in the desert.
Alexander seems to wilt a bit when he looks at the bellydancers -- but again, he visibly steels himself. "I thank you for your helpfulness," he says. "I can hardly demand the owner of this establishment join me all of a sudden, so, of your courtesy, please ask... Miss Sylva to join me. For conversation. I want you to make that quite clear to her up front, please. Also, please accept this modest token of my gratitude..."
Simon passes Ata a piece of silver, patting her hand in a friendly fashion.
Farhaan lets out a deep chuckle and gestures to a set of stairs half-hidden behind a screen painted with a camel. The artist’s haphazard brushstrokes gave the poor beast a look of permanent indigestion. “Regular rooms cheap, just a silver a night per person, two people maximum, or a suite for more just 3 gold per night per person, but that’s for groups of travelers. Unless you’ve got friends on the way?”
Ata takes your coin and tells you "Might be a few minutes, she's in the middle of a performance."
She slips the silver from your hand and into her pouch.
Holbrecht nods just staring at the man, before acknowledging there was a question, "No, no friends. Well, there are friends... that is to say I have friends... but not friends on the way. Well, some might be... I don't know, we didn't discuss it... what would be the odds of them coming here unbeknownst to me?" He begins to rummage through his things for his pen, ink and paper, before shaking his head. "No, the hard numbers would include too many unresolvable variables to adequately answer. Oh, uhm, yes. I mean, one please. One room, for me and no friends. A regular one."
As he hands the silver coin to the innkeep, he spots the well and his interest is piqued. "How long has that been here? Was it built and then you built up around it? Do you know what methods they used to secure the mostly loose soil of the area while excavating? How deep does it go, and does it hail from a time of ancient Osirion? I would love to see the bottom of the structure."
Farhaan takes your silver and gives you a room key. It has the number 4 etched on the old metal.
Farhaan then looks at you strangely as you mutter to yourself the complexities of arithmetic and equations.
"The well or Toothy?" he says before realizing you were speaking of the well and not the tiny crocodile that rest within.
"It was here way before my time. I didn't have the inn built, but I purchased it a few years ago after an adventure into the necropolis. The well does go very deep, not real sure how far down however." moving with you over to the end of the bar where the well is he continues.
"Must be vast however as toothy just surfaced one day and seems to like it here. We feed him scraps, but he never seems to get any longer than six inches. And doesn't seem to have the desire to go back to wherever it is he came from." he then throws a morsel of meat into the well and it is quickly gobbled up my the small crocodile.
Farhaan quickly reaches behind the bar and produces a cup onto the counter then pours you something out of a ceramic carafe.
You sip the sharp, clear liquid in the cup. It smelled a bit like roses and a bit like licorice.
Farhaan then looks at you and ask with a smile "Do you always do that?, I mean talking to yourself."
Holbrecht takes the proffered drink, and holds his hand out with his six remaining silvers in it for the man to take what is owed for the beverage. Not really paying much attention to the results, he tries to stare into the depths of the well without getting too close to the toothy animal within. Finally realizing he'd been spoken to, he turns, confused, and asks, "What do you mean talking to myself?" before recognition crosses his face. "Oh, that. I guess. I've been told I do. My father always just called me a 'loud thinker', but sometimes I guess it's louder than I realize."
Farhaan waves off the offer of more payment.
"Consider it included with the room. You do like it I hope. It's an old family recipe." he says as he closes your hand around the coin.
He then scans the room as if to check up on his serving girls and anything going on in the bar. Almost as if he was expecting some sort of trouble.
He then turns his attention back to you.
"So Mr. Dwarf are you here for the lottery as well?" he ask inquisitively.
Since the arrival of the bellydancer should take 'a few minutes' anyway, Alexander wearily picks up his cane and his flag and makes his way over to Farhaan.
"Excuse me," he says, "but I shall require a room for the night. A single."
Farhaan recognizes another patron at the bar and turns his attention to the newcomer.
He takes the silver for the requested room and hands Alexander a old key marked with the number 2 on it.
He then takes the ceramic carafe and pours a cup for Alexander the same as he did for Holbrecht.
Then he opens his mouth to speak but pauses upon looking into the wizards face. Then begins to speak in Ancient Osiriani.
He nods in thanks for the drink, and shrugs at the question "It's not bad, but I'm not as much of a drinker as most of my kin. I often find that my ales get warm before I remember I have them."
He puts his coins back into his pouch, and answers the follow on question, not recognizing the call for introductions warranted by being called dwarf "Obviou... not again.... watch your wording... not everything obvious to me is obvious to others... Yes, but why do they call it a lottery? Does not everybody get to go as long as they meet the requirements? Like, as long as I have a gro... I've lost focus again... I need a group... or even better, I need a group to need me.... it is after all a question of supply and demand.... Is there an easy way to find out who needs people to join their group, or even better let people know I'm looking?"
Farhaan turning back to the Dwarf in a balance that looks expertly and diplomatically played as if the barkeep has done this for many years.
He begins to speak to the dwarf.
"They call it a lottery because the tombs are drawn at random to make it fair. Perhaps you get drawn a real tomb, or perhaps you get drawn a barbershop. Either way they are all make shift tombs. Just some are considered better than others I suppose." Farhaan laughs.
"and yes you need a group, and by the looks of it half the patrons in this bar right now are looking for the same thing." he says and then pauses.
"Maybe this gentleman even." turning back to the wizard.
The entire gesture seems to be a ploy to get both of you aware of each other so it would be easier for him to address both customers at the same time without causing any grief to the other.
Alexander's eyes widen momentarily, then narrow in ferocious concentration. He replies to Farhaan in the same ancient language:
When a group is mentioned, Alexander gives the Dwarf (Holbrecht) next to him another considering look. "This is correct," he says. "I am... recruiting for a group to enter the tombs." He gives his flag a little shake, so Holbrecht can see the picture and the writing upon it. "The Merry Ravens. A group my brother was once a member of. Our goal would be scholarly research of the monuments of the ancients, not tomb-robbery. If that interests you, feel free to join me."
Holbrecht turns to notice the newcomer, almost having missed him before, "Oh, how fortuitous. How many members do you have thus far? Are there enough to enter the lottery? Why would you use a name of some other group from some other place? ...let alone a group that his brother was part of... that's almost like calling yourself a Pathfinder.... or a Hellknight... even though they are some other group... just because you had family in it.... I don't call myself a dock worker... just because my father was one... Doesn't the very idea of a merry raven seem counter-intuitive to the goal of scholarly research, more like it represents someone that likes drunken carousing and shiny things? It almost sends an opposing message to the one claimed... but he already has a banner... but if the symbology belongs to the other group... it almost feels like stealing someone's identity. Are you dead set on the representation, or the name? I would love to conduct study on the tombs, primarily their construction techniques to have withstood the test of time as they have." Holbrecht's excitement easily gets the better of him as he speaks what he's thinking, forgetting the subtlety of pauses to allow another to speak.
"I have myself, so far," Alexander replies, appearing unfazed by the deluge of questions. "I use the name to honour my brother, who was the last survivor of the previous Merry Ravens and gave me this flag as a memento. I accept the irony of the paradox; I already have the recruiting banner, and such ventures do, unfortunately, require some people more prone to physical than scholarly pursuits. Hopefully, it will attract a tractable member of such a group. If you join now, I shall appoint you Chief Executive in charge of studying the construction techniques of the tombs. Do you have any further questions?"
Holbrecht sets his face in a hard line, before offering more of his line of reasoning, "Yes, you do already have a banner, that already has a history with another group of individuals. One of which you explained died to all but one last man. Maybe as a symbol of a new and burgeoning collection of individuals, with different goals, it would be best kept as a memento. As your group so far only consists of you, and if I join, myself, then I think it would be best that we as a group find a new symbol and name that represents the members it's made up from."
He takes a breath, before continuing with another point of contention with him, "Also, I do not need an official title, as there are only two of us, and I do not believe I am being hired for a position. Only if our group of two grows to a size equivalent of a larger organization should a title be necessary to differentiate my role amongst the members. Not to mention the fact, I don't want to be a merry raven.... I want to be a member of a group named and symbolized by something representative of it's members and goals."
"It will serve as an eyecatch, at least," Alexander says, shrugging. "And beyond that, it need remain only a memento."
Waiting for a break in the conversation between Alexander and the dwarf Farhaan continues his conversation with Alexander in Ancient Osiriani.
Upon standing back up Farhaan has a ornate wooden box about the size of a tobacco box and sits it on the counter. The engravings on the lacquered black box are trimmed with gold leaf and have the holy symbol of Nethys on it. A mask with both a black side and a white side. Farhaan slides it toward you. You also notice that the box has a very high quality lock on it as well.
Farhaan looks at Alexander and says...
Holbrecht just looks blankly onward as.... the innkeep speaks some odd tongue to... the guy he decided to team up with. Before turning his attentions back to the structure that is the well that had gotten his attention earlier. When the box sets down on the counter, Holbrecht glances at the noise then turns back toward his examination. He then stops, turns sharply toward the box, and let's out an excited gasp, "Very nice. Where did you ever find a Chelish Crucible Mark seventeen? Named after the metal they use in its construction requiring it to be heated higher than typical steel or iron." He asks whoever may know, as he points at the lock with wild-eyed wonder.
"It'd better remain just a memento" a voice pipes up; turning around, the small group notices a young Tien girl in a sailor's doublet and keffiyeh grinning at them. "I've turned down the Deadly Dozen, Pella's Sphinxes, the Gnome Alliance and Guests, and a team simply named "Diggin'". I really need a group and I have no desire to be a 'Merry Raven." She turns to Farhaan and tries out an Osiriani greeting she's been trying to memorize, ordering a cup of water and drinking it greedily. Wiping some sweat off her forehead before turning back to Alexander and Holbrecht, she sticks her hand out. "Wotcher; name's Lin Zi, and though all my travels through Tian Xia I've never met a better thief than myself. I've also heard that my talents can be of use diving for treasure and relics in these tombs, like you folks want to do. Need a third?"
Farhaan looks strangely at the dwarf of whom he still doesn't know the name.
"Maybe you can help me with something Mr. Dwarf. A certain patron gave me this." he pulls a single small gem from his pouch and lays it on the counter in front of Holbrecht.
The gem looks almost like ice with a faint blue tint. It is almost crystal clear and sparkles even in the low light of the room.
"The patron said it was something called an 'Ice Diamond' I haven't had time to take it over to the Sanctum of Silver and Gold yet to see what it was worth but the patron said it would cover all their expenses while here and then some." Farhaan says as he bends down to the dwarf's level.
"Can you tell me what exactly it is worth or where it comes from there Mr. Dwarf?"
Then seeing the approach and announcement by the young girl on being a thief, Farhaan quickly picks the gem back up and pockets it.
"Maybe some other time."
The girl grins wider. "Relax; if I intended to ply that trade in Osirion I wouldn't be announcing my skills like that. I want to try going straight for awhile. No need to get wary like that."
Holbrecht looks at the young woman for a little bit, like he's trying to bring her into focus, before he finally asks, "I'm told I say things I'm thinking, and don't realize it, but did you notice you just told us you were a thief? Doesn't that make it hard to do if you come right out and tell people that's what you are? We do need a third, maybe more... I forget now if the rules say we needed more... was it three.. or five... what if we only need two... are the two of us enough.... I'm decent with a hammer, but the old guy.... maybe we need one or two more with a little more of a combat bent to them... I know for me the treasure and relics are really more just to fund more expeditions into ancient Osirion architecture. If you are a thief, how do we know you won't expect or try to take more than your equal share?"
Despite his confusion over her introduction, he doesn't actually seemed as bothered as curious, "Oh, yes introductions.... have I made them yet... with anyone My name's Holbrecht. I'm an engineer and architect." He shakes her hand easily.
Farhaan shrugs "You can never be too careful these days." he says as he looks about the room.
He sets the diamond back in front of the dwarf.
"So maybe one of you can tell me exactly where this thing comes from and what it is worth?" he ask with a smile.
Holbrecht turns to the stone with scrutiny, and interest, talking as he performs some odd tests "Normally, I don't bother myself with the coin value of materials," he holds it to the dim light to watch the patterns, "as much as recognize them for their potential" he pinches it between his fingers, then cups it in his hand and blows on it, before looking at how if fogs, "in constructive uses, like clockworks or structural qualities," he scratches both the countertop and the head of his warhammer with the stone "but I will admit that I have a bit of a knack for it. There is just something amazing about the qualities of precious stones.... beyond their intrinsic value of course." He finishes his odd assessment before handing the thing back and stating what he thinks it is, and is worth monetarily.
Other than knowing the name of the location, you do not know anything relevant about the land of Irrisen or where exactly the province of Wintercrux is located within its borders.
Holbrecht shares what he knows of the gem and its value with the innkeeper, pleased to be able to offer a useful service. He also shares that he doesn't know more about the region beyond the presence of the mine there.
"That makes a lot of sense Mr. Dw...." clearing his throat "Halbrecht" he smiles.
"Since it was a Ulfen woman who gave it to me." he nods.
"Thank you." and he refills you cup.
The belly dancing performance comes to an end as the girls take a break. The bard also quits playing. The room only seems to get louder as the music stops.
One of the belly dancers heads over to the bar and takes up a position beside Alexander.
"So golden dove, the way I 'ear it, ya 're lookin' for sum company for this evenin'. is that correct, golden dove?" she says in a very seductive manner.
She eyes you over, then back again. Without waiting for an answer she takes a seat beside you and leans over to whisper in your ear. The strong smell of exotic perfumes overwhelm your senses as the very beautiful woman leans in toward you.
"Dear, 'a abaht ya start by gettin' the lydy a Tiddley Win'." she whispers as she waves over Farhaan.
"I personally take a likin' ter elven Fine and Dandy myself. 'a abaht ya?" she continues to whisper as she places a hand on your knee.
Nulyth enters the Tooth and glances over all the occupants, keeping an especially close eye on the obvious foreigners. He spots a strange trio of foreigners and saddles up nearby, listening to their conversation for a few moments...
He looks at Farhaan and slides the man a silver piece. "A room, if you still have any available, Farhaan." He then turns towards Alexander, Holbrecht, and Lin. "Looking to enter the Necropolis, are you? You may need a local to help guide you... How many are you?"
Farhaan takes the silver piece from Nulyth and slides him a key with the number 1 etched upon it.
He then slides a menu onto the table in front of Alexander. The menu is written in chalk on a green slate material.
"For the lady? She tends to like the bottles of Elven Blush" he says while raising a cocked eyebrow.
Tooth & Hookah Menu and Services
Alexander eyes the box with a decidedly odd expression; mixed hope, grief and reluctance. He passes a hand over the lid and mutters first a brief prayer to the All-Seeing Eye in Ancient Osirian, and after that makes another pass and whispers a Word of Power.
He glances at Lin Zi and seems to consider her... then shrugs. "Very well," he says. "Someone skilled at finding and disarming traps will no doubt be very useful. However, I wish to make it clear that I am not a tomb-raider; I am a scholar. I will not condone any raiding. However, allow me to reassure you that there will be an embarrassment of opportunities to make money off a scholarly expedition. Discoveries such as lie waiting in the ancient tombs will fetch high rewards from the great universities of Avistan. I have contacts in those circles. If that is agreeable...?"
He holds out his hand to Lin Zi. "Alexander Pierpoint. And as for a group name... Do any of you object to Alseta's Mask? Since we will be walking through doorways unopened for centuries together. Doorways into the lands of the past, which open doors to a hopefully bright new future for all of us."
When Nulyth inserts himself into the conversation, Alexander quirks an eyebrow at him. "A native guide? That might indeed be useful, but what other skills do you bring to the table besides local knowledge? The tombs have been unopened and forbidden for many years, after all. I doubt you have knowledge of their interior..."
You do not get any impression that Alexander is being nasty at Nulyth's expense; he is honestly curious about what skills Nulyth has, and is receptive to having a native guide.
His body language changes considerably when Sylve comes sashaying up to him, however; he is radiating embarrassment. For a moment, he presses the fingers of his free hand against his face, eyes squeezed shut, and mutters something that sounds like a snatch of prayer.
"My dear young lady," he says, once he has regained some of his composure, "you are extremely aesthetic to behold. And I am fifty years old; I am really not up to that sort of thing, especially not in this heat. I did ask the other young lady to tell you I only wanted to talk to you, to find out whether you might have made the acquaintance of Timothy Pierpoint. He ah, was always fond of beautiful ladies, and you fit that description very well. Personally, I only wish to benefit from your mind, not your body."
Holbrecht holds up a finger in an either warning or scolding manner, "Now now,... Alexander I think he said, I think you may be jumping to conclusions. The girl...oh, darn she had an accent... she said 'name is... Lin...' yes that's it, Lin said she was a self-proclaimed thief, bent on 'going straight'. She said no such thing about finding or disarming traps, I'm actually not half bad at the latter myself. I would assume, ... though I don't like to.... there is that saying about assuming.... how'd it go? make an ass out of you and ming?... no that's not right... oh well... by the name thief, that she is more practiced in removing valuables from a person's....person... pocket's... possession."
Looking at the newcomer, he adds, "In fact, I would say that a local guide, despite the age of the tombs, could be a welcome addition. He is someone that can help us cut down on any research time we may need to prepare for whatever location we get in the lottery. Not to mention, he could help us get along with the locals in reintegrating their historical artifacts back into their society, where I think they belong.... not some museum far from their source.... the history of the people belongs to the people it.... well, belongs to."
He holds up his hands haltingly, and adds, "As for the name, let's just keep throwing some things back and forth, and not just jump into one. We may or may not have just picked up a third and fourth member. Let's all hear what we bring to the table, and try to base our name off of that. It may not be clear,...wait...where is it... darn, tucked under my shirt again.... there we go" He pulls a necklace from under his shirt front. The symbol is a simple wooden piece resembling a feminine mask with a single rune engraved on the forehead, "but I'm kind of a religious man myself. So it may be best to avoid any religious affiliations that do not represent all of us."
"On the contrary," Alexander replies to Holbrecht, shrugging. "Picking a deity that represents any of us might lend credence to the idea that one of us is superior by divine decree. Alseta is hostess to all the civilized deities; gatherings in time. She seemed ideally suited for that reason, as we are a diverse group. Also, her relative obscurity made her seem a good choice; less chance of trouble with one of the main churches."
He glances at Holbrecht's symbol and quirks an eyebrow. "Ah. Brigh."
Holbrecht looks confused, then clarifies, "What? Oh. No, that's what I meant. We shouldn't use ANY deity, unless a single deity represents all of us equally. Which I seriously doubt. Otherwise, we look to claim any deific preference, and even worse invoking the name of a god that is not actually worshipped amongst the members." He thinks for a bit then his eyes widen, "Oh, I haven't offered any suggestions yet. Let's see architect... scholar... thief... or is it ex-thief?... and a guide... I'm a dwarf... there's three humans... maybe something alliterative... with 'Sage' or 'Savant'... Savant is better.... maybe a play on words. What about 'The Savant Guard'? Savant implies specialists, guard to represent defenders of history or knowledge, and a play on avant-garde, a forward thinker in terms of discovery or the arts."
Sylva snuggles closer in to Alexander and says "'re ya Bobby 'oney? cause I ain't never 'eard of nah timothy pierpoint. but maybe ya can score be that Tiddley Win' and ya can 'elp get your point across? wot do ya say?"
"I must regretfully refuse your generous offer, Miss," Alexander says, as he politely but resolutely disengages from the belly-dancer. "As I said, you are very pretty, but I am not in the market for that sort of thing."
To the others, he says: "Lady and gentlemen, shall we seek a table and see if anyone else shows up who might like to join our enterprise? Master Farahn, I would appreciate the opportunity to speak to you again soon. Please excuse me..."