The desert wastes of Osirion have always been home to competing clans of nomadic elementals of air, fire, and sand, best known for ushering in the blinding khamsin on a seasonal basis. Something changed this year, though, and the elementals went berserk, scouring the desert with a tireless fury, as seen only once every six decades or so. Thousands of tons of hot desert sand were shifted, with entire villages buried and valuable oases lost. AS a result, the caravan roads have become increasingly deadly. But one man's disaster is another man's opportunity, for in the valleys and canyons left behind by the storms, ancient wonders from fantastic myths have resurfaced. A nearly a dozen previously unknown pyramids now miraculously rise from the sands.
Word has spread. Renowned treasure hunters from across the Inner Sea (and beyond) now congregate in Sothis, capital of Osirion, to prepare for some of the most anticipated dungeon delves in centuries. Within this community of rogues, bandits, mercenaries, and tomb robbers, a rumor has spread like wildfire. One of the resurfaced structures towering out of the desert floor is none other than the legendary pyramid complex of the Four Pharaohs of Ascension...
The hot sun shines down on the tapestry of dusty tents that is the Malhitu Bazaar, and the heat is only made worst by sudden gusts of sand filled air. You and your companions are traversing the ever changing maze that is the largest market in Sothis. Today, you find yourselves seeking a specific tent, not just browsing the local fare. As several merchants hawk their wares, and errand boys run in and out of the crowded walkways, your eyes scan for a tent housing the antiquities auction that is your destination.
Dianora looks around the bazaar, her eyes scanning for any potential threats. She doesn't expect anything here, but her targets almost never expect her presence right before she offers divine retribution from He Who Walks In Blood.
A far greater thread, she thinks, are those trying to lighten her purse. She remembers that feeling of living alone on the streets, begging for food and, when she had to, taking more direct action to make sure she didn't starve.
If her companions aren't in a rush, she'll take her time as she seeks her destination, stopping to finger some of the finer fabrics she sees. If the sellers are deferential enough, she may even grace them with her business. As she eyes the merchants' wares, she'll keep her ears open for any rumors that may be making the rounds.
Knowledge Local
Though Belgraen finds the bazaar interesting and under normal circumstances would love to browse he's on a mission. There's ancient lore to uncover and he doesn't want to miss out on a discovery because he was dawdling picking out cloaks.
Getting slightly annoyed with himself he considers what spell in his repartees would best help this situation then just before he's about to call the energy forth he sees something to lead him in the right direction.
Speaking to the others, but not really paying attention to if they're listening.
I think I see the right tent. Please, don't dawdle. We've got a lot to do.
He can be a bit absent minded with common courtesy at times. Anyone who has spent time with Belgraen comes to realize it's absent-mindedness, not rudeness. He's always got a lot on his mind.
Belgraen heads off in the correct direction, not looking back to see if his companions follow.
___
Sister Dianora makes her way with subtle grace through the crowded market. Keeping her eyes peeled for a stall that sells fine fabrics she is pleased to discover one such tent, and even more pleased to find that the owners are a gregarious Vudrani couple. As they show Dianora their exotic Jalmerayan silks she listens as they excitedly gossip to each other. She smiles, for the whispers are true - the Vudrani love a good rumor!
"I heard the Prince himself has orders the guards to watch for antiquities from those new pyramids. Apparently, there's something real dark inside."
"I heard that an Expedition from the northern Empire of Cheliax has gotten permission from the Prince to enter the tomb."
"Cheliax? Shame. I certainly hope a group from Jalmeray get there first! Why waste such a good tale on those devil-kissers?"
...And so on and so forth...
___
A few rows over, Underdune Anum and the Elven mage Belgraen make their way through the throngs of people shopping in the bazaar. While Underdune makes his way through the market he happily takes note of several small keys tied to some merchant's tents - symbolic prayers to Abadar. Belgraen wastes no time in spotting the discreetly hidden white tent and instructing the cleric to follow him. Belgraen had already scryed the market that morning to find this particular tent, and knew that inside he would find a secret antiquities auction - along with their contact.
Asher Hanafesh awakes in his modest quarters. Despite being the leader of the community, he insists that he live in no better conditions than the least of his brethren. "We all once lived as slaves. Now we live as equals," he tells them. The community likely couldn't sustain much in terms of large quarters anyway. Haven was built on a secret oasis, a small patch of arable land deep in the Osirian desert. It was home to hundreds of slaves, the fabled lands that they spoke of huddled in their small tents after surviving yet another endless day of backbreaking labor. Asher personally rescued many, if not most, of them. Others found their way by word of mouth from other freed slaves dedicated to freeing them. It is not much, but they are free and they are equal.
It is Heaven.
Abraxiel would interject at that point, telling them that it was not, in fact, Heaven. The angel was terrible and fierce and glorious all at once, a majestic figure flying through the sky on fiery wings and protecting Haven from all who would threaten it with a sword forged in Heaven. Asher, his (half-)human vessel for nearly the last two decades, made no secret about Abraxiel. It was Abraxiel who had freed him from his bonds of servitude on his eighteenth birthday, and Abraxiel was the first sight of many slaves' free eyes as he slew their cruel overseers. The archangel's judgment was harsh and immediate to those who had displayed sadism or cruelty, but passed over those with even an inkling of righteousness in their hearts.
Together, the archangel and his vessel freed hundreds of former slaves and sought out Sarenrae's enemies over twenty years, though Asher often went months without summoning the angel into his body. Abraxiel would appear to him in a vision if necessary, informing him of the need for him to descend to Golarion.
It was such a vision that Abraxiel gave to Asher three days ago as he awoke. As the half-elf rubs the sand and sleep from his eyes, Abraxiel stands over him silently. Long used to such sudden appearances, Asher is not startled and quickly finds his way to one knee. Even after almost twenty years serving him, Asher still feels tremendous loyalty, respect, and awe for Abraxiel. Abraxiel places a hand on Asher's shoulder and speaks to him as a man speaks to his friend. "Asher, I will need you to summon me in three days. There is a great danger that we must face together. Go to Sothis, my friend, and seek out the elf wizard Belgraen. He will be with another, the servant of Abadar you know as Underdune Anum. Together, you will be joined by another, a Red Mantis Assassin named Sister Dianora." Asher looks up, confused and alarmed by this last compatriot. "You must trust me, Asher. Sarenrae has plans for that one." With a flutter of wings, Abraxiel is gone, returned to Heaven.
Asher finds his way out of his lodging and seeks out Jarcoteth. While they have no real formal structure here, the freed slaves look to Asher as a leader and to Jarcoteth after. A half-orc frenzied oracle of Iomedae, Jarcoteth is a strange but effective leader. His hot temper does well to balance out Asher's methodical decision-making, and Asher trusts him to lead Haven well while he is gone. After he explains the situation, Asher gathers the gear accumulated during his adventures and teleports to Sothis to find the others.
Asher does not like Sothis. Too many people are bought and sold in the marketplace here, like animals. He was himself purchased here as a young boy, inspected first for signs of disease by a man with finer clothes than he could have imagined at that age. The realities of the situation, however, make him know that he cannot free them all without warping the balance of power in the Inner Sea. He contents himself with the knowledge of all those he has helped, but his heart yearns to help all those that still long for freedom.
Having found the elven mage two days ago and the cleric of Abadar the day after, Asher keeps a lookout for the Red Mantis. While he doesn't trust assassins, he trusts in Abraxiel's judgment, though this is a complete leap of faith. When the elf points out the correct tent, he follows and enters. "You've done well, Belgraen. Very well." He smiles at the wizard, with whom he has spoken to a number of times over the last few years, but still barely knows. Last time they were together, while Abraxiel was summoned, he hammered the angel with a deluge of questions. His talent lay not only in his spells, but apparently in irritating an ancient and immortal servant of the goddess Sarenrae.
Dianora wanders quietly through the market of Sothis in simple, red Osiriani garb, her skin darkened to match the natives of the dessert country. A bright red keffiyeh with white trim signals that she is wealthier than she might look, despite carrying her own laden pack. The pair of swords hanging at her hip and bow strapped across her back make sure she is not bothered by those with less regard for the rules of society.
Having heard what rumors there are to hear in the market, and finding nothing more than trinkets to spend her coin on, she begins to look for the tent where the Vernai said she would meet her contact.
Eventually finding it, she enters through the cloth entrance, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom before proceeding further inside.
As you all congregate inside the white tent, which was hidden in plain sight, your eyes adjusts as your nose is bombarded with powerful incense. The auction house is large enough to comfortably seat about 50 customers, and brightly woven carpets encircle the edges of the tent. On a circular wooden stage, situation in the center of the tent, a garish podium rests. At present, a number of customers and oddity seekers are making their way in.
Asher watches Anum head to the front, not wishing to stop him. From his previous dealings with the Abadarian, he is a shrewd judge of an item's value. It is certainly quite the advantage to be able to glance at the perfect form of a given item in the First Vault. Still, if the relics are religious in nature, that advantage is nothing compared to working alongside (so to speak) the right hand of Sarenrae. He's likely seen more about relics and myth than any other member of the group.
Asher leans in to Belgraen. "Do you know what we are supposed to be looking for? Abraxiel did not tell me much. He often tells me that I know what I need to know, no more and no less. I have faith that he would share more if necessary, but it may simply present an opportunity to learn it from you."
All the while, he keeps his head on a swivel for the assassin. Sometimes it is difficult to trust in Abraxiel's judgment, difficult to understand the vast kaleidoscope through which he must see the world. While he might not trust a Red Mantis, he will put his faith and trust in the angel to whom he owes everything. However, that doesn't mean he won't be on the lookout for her so that she cannot surprise him.
Asher leans in to Belgraen. "Do you know what we are supposed to be looking for? Abraxiel did not tell me much. He often tells me that I know what I need to know, no more and no less. I have faith that he would share more if necessary, but it may simply present an opportunity to learn it from you."
I appreciate your faith in me, but I truly have no idea who or what I'm looking for. I presume we're here so the contact can find us. In truth I don't like this situation one bit. Perhaps its paranoia, but this situation is unsettling. I'm going to cast something so we can all communicate silently.
Once at the correct place in the room Belgraen says a word and nods to each person to include in the spell. He then takes his seat and resumes concentrating.
School divination; Level sorcerer/wizard 5
casting Time 1 standard action
components V, S, M (two eggshells from two different creatures)
range close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)
Targets you plus one willing creature per three levels, no two of
which can be more than 30 ft. apart
duration 10 min./level (D)
Saving Throw none; Spell resistance no
You forge a telepathic bond among yourself and a number of
willing creatures, each of which must have an Intelligence score
of 3 or higher. Each creature included in the link is linked to all
the others. The creatures can communicate telepathically through
the bond regardless of language. No special power or influence
is established as a result of the bond. Once the bond is formed, it
works over any distance (although not from one plane to another).
If desired, you may leave yourself out of the telepathic bond
forged. This decision must be made at the time of casting.
Telepathic bond can be made permanent with a permanency spell,
though it only bonds two creatures per casting of permanency.
Dianora quietly enters the tent, and moves about 10 feet from the entrance, where she can watch people from behind and see if anyone enters or leaves. She stands about five feet from the cloth walls, far enough that a blade thrust through the fabric would not be able to easily hit her.
She looks around, noting who's in the auction and any potential threats or oddities.
When Belgraen's spell tickles her mind, she frowns slightly, but allows the magic to take effect.
Anyone who chose to allow the spell "hears" Belgraen's voice in their head.
Dianora, I'm glad you made it. *"said" jovially*You didn't really think you'd go unnoticed while wearing your signature color did you?
I felt this would be the best way to coordinate our efforts without drawing undue attention. I don't like not knowing who exactly we're meeting. My recommendation is for everyone to spread out a little and keep the others apprized of any developments using this link.
As you each take your positions, the final members of the audience of bidders take their seats. The auction has drawn a number of curious potential customers, including representatives from the government of Osirion itself. The audience takes their seats, talking eagerly amongst themselves, waiting for the auctioneer to make his appearance.
As you each take your positions, the final members of the audience of bidders take their seats. The auction has drawn a number of curious potential customers, including representatives from the government of Osirion itself. The audience takes their seats, talking eagerly amongst themselves, waiting for the auctioneer to make his appearance.
As you each take your positions, the final members of the audience of bidders take their seats. The auction has drawn a number of curious potential customers, including representatives from the government of Osirion itself. The audience takes their seats, talking eagerly amongst themselves, waiting for the auctioneer to make his appearance.
Asher is careful to keep his thoughts to himself when the voice of the assassin reaches his mind. It takes a great deal of concentration, but he is well practiced in suppressing telepathic links. Abraxiel, as an immortal archangel, is nearly incomprehensible to the mortal mind; Asher had had twenty years to grow used to it. A telepathic word from the angel has been known to completely overwhelm the senses of an unprepared mortal.
Asher sits in the back, trying to scan the crowd. Most people wouldn't recognize him, though they would absolutely recognize Abraxiel if he were summoned. The slaves of Osirion know him by name, as the savior of many of their freed brethren, but the types of people at this place would generally not.
He breathes out and concentrates to send only a specific short message. 'Good to meet you, Dianora. I am Asher Hanafesh. With your arrival, the four of us are united.'
A quiet round of applause begins to spread through the tent as a handsome and meticulously clean middle aged man makes his way to the podium. He is followed by seven eunuch slaves, each carrying a large trunk. The eunuchs places the trunks in a semi-circle around the man, and proceed to open them. Each chests contains coins, maps, sketches, drawings, rubbings, statuettes, and jewelry, all of which has some relation to the newly discovered ruins. The audience approves, obviously pleased with the display of antiquities.
A quiet round of applause begins to spread through the tent as a handsome and meticulously clean middle aged man makes his way to the podium. He is followed by seven eunuch slaves, each carrying a large trunk. The eunuchs places the trunks in a semi-circle around the man, and proceed to open them. Each chests contains coins, maps, sketches, drawings, rubbings, statuettes, and jewelry, all of which has some relation to the newly discovered ruins. The audience approves, obviously pleased with the display of antiquities.
Over the next few moments Belgraen rises from his chair and casually strolls around the perimeter where he can peer to inspect the contents of the chests from a respectable distance.
The appearance of the slaves, slaves robbed of their very humanity and manhood, nearly shocks Asher into summoning Abraxiel then and there to mete justice out upon their owner. He grits his teeth, silently tracing the summoning circle with his feet and wishing that things were as black-and-white as he saw them.
Asher focuses on the items in the chest, looking for something that may have prompted Sarenrae and Abraxiel's interest in the ruins.
"Well met, Asher," Dianora thinks, "United in purpose, at least, if nothing else."
After the chests are opened, Dianora stays where she is, trying to watch the reactions of everyone else in the room.
"Well," Dianora thinks, "what do you see, gentlemen? Anything that has clearly brought us all here from our respective homes and interests?"
Belgraen's Detect Magic finds that there are some items with a magical aura . From Belgraen's viewpoint, there are several items that may be worth at least 1,000 gold pieces in value, if not more. There are also several that will fetch far less. Every item is tied to the Four Pharaohs of Ascension, and their tomb. Belgraen also takes note of several well dressed bidders and several dark clad men, standing in the shadows.
Asher notes nothing of immediate religious interest, but sees that there are several scrolls and charts in the mix. Maybe one of them has pricked the church's interest. Only time will tell.
Underdune recognizes the auctioneer as none other than the legendary Kemesarian, a well known antiquities fence that runs exclusively in genuine artifacts. Despite his reputation, he is still breaking the law by selling "liberated" items, and rumor has it he has a deal with both the Sothan guards, and the Pharaoh himself that allows him to continue his gray-market business. While looking the items over, several of the pieces catch his eye - most notably a small bronze sculpture. The piece's workmanship alone sets it at at least 800 gold pieces. Like Belgraen, he can easily see that most of the items are highly valuable. Underdune recalls that the Four Pharaohs of Ascension ruled Osirion during the third age of the Black Sphinx, and united the desert nation using fear and powerful magic. The four Pharaohs names were Anok Fero (known as the Cerulean Pharaoh), Hetshepsu (known as the Fiend Pharaoh), Ankana (the Radiant Pharaoh), and the Pharaoh of Numbers, who's true name has been lost. They ruled together, uniting their warring people, brought peace to the river valley, and while they were all powerful in different manners, they were all equal due to their pact. Legend has it that the Pharaohs were bound together by some form of magical pact. This pact bound their souls together, and intertwined their destinies. They lived together, ruled together, and were bound to die together. While little is known of the Pharaohs today - and the power they once held - it is known that the Pharaoh of Numbers was an mathematician and astronomer, and was obsessed with tracking Aucturn, the dark planet.
Underdune, while looking around also takes note of a girl that seems too poor and young to be in this particular auction tent.
Sister Dianora casually looks around the room, blending seamlessly into her surrondings. She takes note of a half-orc and halfling in the back row, near the door, both of which are obviously comfortable with the weapons hanging at their sides.
thinking to everyone
Everyone stay alert. There are several suspicious men here any one of whom could be our contact.
Turning his mental attention back to the items
It's all interesting and mostly valuable. *humm...* It's all from the age of the Four Pharaohs of Ascension. *humm...* Several items radiate magic, but I haven't narrowed down just yet. Blast it! I just wish I knew what in the hells I was looking for!
Underdune recognizes the auctioneer as none other than the legendary Kemesarian, a well known antiquities fence that runs exclusively in genuine artifacts. Despite his reputation, he is still breaking the law by selling "liberated" items, and rumor has it he has a deal with both the Sothan guards, and the Pharaoh himself that allows him to continue his gray-market business. While looking the items over, several of the pieces catch his eye - most notably a small bronze sculpture. The piece's workmanship alone sets it at at least 800 gold pieces. Like Belgraen, he can easily see that most of the items are highly valuable. Underdune recalls that the Four Pharaohs of Ascension ruled Osirion during the third age of the Black Sphinx, and united the desert nation using fear and powerful magic. The four Pharaohs names were Anok Fero (known as the Cerulean Pharaoh), Hetshepsu (known as the Fiend Pharaoh), Ankana (the Radiant Pharaoh), and the Pharaoh of Numbers, who's true name has been lost. They ruled together, uniting their warring people, brought peace to the river valley, and while they were all powerful in different manners, they were all equal due to their pact. Legend has it that the Pharaohs were bound together by some form of magical pact....
Anum will relate what he sees and what he knows of the Pharaohs in case it becomes relevant later.
He'll also point out the poor and young girl who seems out of place.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! I welcome you to the sale of the century! Today I bring you items from our nation's fabled past - a time when the kings of Osirion were gods! A time when magics will will never understand bound the people of our desert nation together! Today, I bring you relics recovered from the tombs of Tumen and some more recently uncovered sites!" the Kemesarian begins, "Let the auction begin! Our first lot is eleven gold coins, dating from the reign of the Four Pharaohs of Ascenion. Do I hear 100 gold pieces?"
And with that, the bidding war begins! A man clad in dark robes, trimmed in red opens the bidding, raising him arm to indicate his interest, increasing the bid to 110 gold pieces.
"Do I hear 120? 120?"
Dianora will casually move closer to the girl, trying to determine what she's doing in the tent. If she's just an urchin, perhaps looking to lift a little coin to survive, Dianora wants to be ready to help her, whether anyone else sees what she does or not. If she's something else, Dianora simply wants to be ready.
As you wonder as to exactly who your contact is, you remember that you are not being reimbursed for buying items at the auction, and will be rewarded by your church sponsors after you uncover the secrets to the pyramids. The items in the auction were said to be of 'great' importance, and may contain clues that will help you in your quest.
As Dianora casually watches the young girl, she determines that she is probably a young youth that is simply interested in the relics and treasures. She appears to be a local, with sun-tanned skin, coal lined eyes, and dark hair. She has a small notepad, and is taking notes in Osirion.
"120!" shouts the auctioneer, pointing to a Vudrani man in the back.
"130!" as a rich Osirion man waves his hand.
As you wonder as to exactly who your contact is, you remember that you are not being reimbursed for buying items at the auction, and will be rewarded by your church sponsors after you uncover the secrets to the pyramids. The items in the auction were said to be of 'great' importance, and may contain clues that will help you in your quest.
As Dianora casually watches the young girl, she determines that she is probably a young youth that is simply interested in the relics and treasures. She appears to be a local, with sun-tanned skin, coal lined eyes, and dark hair. She has a small notepad, and is taking notes in Osirion.
"120!" shouts the auctioneer, pointing to a Vudrani man in the back.
"130!" as a rich Osirion man waves his hand.
Everyone hears Belgraen "talking" to himself in their heads
Oh, what the hellsBelgraen Raises his arm to bid.
140!
Having no idea if this is a worthwhile purchase or not Belgraen is just hoping to get it cheap.