GM Olmek's Mummy's Mask (Inactive)

Game Master Olmek

Congratulations on getting into the game, guys. Expect the first game post to be up sometime tomorrow. For now, go ahead and dot here and then wander over the discussion thread to talk about your adventure party.

Dot. I'm honored to be selected.

One dots the thread in accordance with custom and tradition. One is pleased to have been selected.

Dot. Happy to be here!

Dot! Glad to help out! I am so excited!

Dot! Very excited to be a part of the campaign, and I'll be sure to look at everyone else's characters.

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 arrive in Wati, the walls wind like stone rivers, separating the old city from the new. Low buildings, painted white to reflect heat, cluster 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 rises a hill upon which noble estates sprawl, looking down on the bustling populace.

With the city packed there is but one place to stay so you find yourselves 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 you 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.

The Sign of The Tooth and Hookah

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.

Map of The Tooth and Hookah

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.

Barkeeper at the Tooth and Hookah

Go ahead and place yourselves in the scene. Those of you that desire pre-existing relationships go ahead and write them in. This will be before the group is formed.

With a weary sigh, Salomae allowed her pack to drop to the floor at her feet as she leaned against the bar. It had been a long trip - from Oppara to Absalom to Sothis and then down the River Sphinx to Wati. Though she had had the presence of mind to do a small bit of research on the land of Osirion, nothing could have prepared her for the endless sands that stretched beyond the greenery that surrounded the River Sphinx, nor the relentless heat.

I'll have to buy some lighter clothing, else I melt in this heat...but first, I need a good drink.

Clearing her throat, she speaks, "Bartender? Your best thirst-quencher, if you don't mind...and a glass of water too, please." Her accent as well as appearance instantly mark her a foreigner in this land, though she does not look as outlandish as some that she has seen since arriving in the city. As she waits for her drinks, she scans the dimly-lit tavern out of habit, making note of each person and whether they look to be local or travelers like herself.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

First, a drink and securing lodgings for the night...then, I suppose I should try and find a group to throw in with. Supplies can wait until last. But who here looks the most capable?

Wati had changed since Marcus Bale had last set foot there as a child traveling with his father's trade caravan. Perhaps it was just the excitement of tomorrow's events, but the city had seemed much quieter twenty years ago, even to an excitable and curious child. His first action in town was to check the date with a local, despite knowing full well from the position of the heavens that the day of the lottery was tomorrow.

I'm lucky that sandstorm abated when it did. If I'd been delayed another day, I could have missed it, he thought.

It had been a long trip, and the camel loaned to him by the caravan-master was a miserable and uncooperative creature with a limp. The only thing he could think of was getting a room for the night so he could be rested for the morning.

A limping camel for a six-day journey. Nethys's Bane, someone has it out for me, he fumed internally as he graciously thanked the fat merchant for his generosity. He set off into the city, longcoat and wide-brimmed hat cutting an impressive figure in the bustle of the busy streets. Inquiring at a few inns, he discovered each was fully booked until he made his way to a hookah bar a little ways from the main thoroughfare.

This one had best have room, or there'll be hell to pay, he thought, grimacing at the thought of seeking out yet another inn in town. Marching inside, he greeted the bartender in Osiriani, his accent indicative of a native speaker. "Any rooms available tonight, my good man? It's been a long trip, and I'll be needing refreshment, and a meal as well." He switches to the common tongue of Taldane before continuing, glancing over his shoulder to include the whole room in his next statement. "And if you know of anyone going into the Necropolis on the morrow, could you send them my way? I'll be looking for companions for a proper exploration of one of the tombs, and I've not a lot of time to recruit some capable help."

After Alayi's trip all the way from Katheer, she has finally made it to Wati where the lottery is said to happen in a day or two.

Wati! I finally got here! Those damned merchants short changed me, but I will make much more here. But first, got to find an Inn, this pack is killing me.

With a sigh, she goes along through Wati, asking people of an Inn that is available at all. Though so far, no luck what so ever due to the lottery that will happen tomorrow. With shock she begins to wonder if she will find a place to stay at all!

Crap! Crap, Crap, Crap. I gotta find an Inn and a group to join! By Sarenae's shiny rear, I gotta hurry!

With a slight panic she tries to find another local to see if they know if there is an Inn with a vacancy. With luck, she found a young man that points Alayi to the "Tooth and Hooka", which he said there should be a couple rooms left, maybe. With directions in hand, she rushes to the "Tooth and Hooka" to see about getting a room there.

Ha! I-I'm here. Here it is.... Um, what a odd sign, a croc with a hooka. Osirioni are an odd people. Huh.

Alayi enters the Inn and looks around, letting out a sigh of relief once she entered the building. She walks over to the bar to see the barkeep about rooms and if he/she knows if anyone looking to group up, or if a group is looking for more.

Excuse me, Barkeep? Got a room available for rent? I gotta drop this bag off, and relax a bit before joining a tomb delving group. Oh, on that thought, know of a group that is looking for more?

With that, Alayi puts her bag next to her on the floor and pulls a stool that is next to her and sits on it.

Oh, barkeep, something nice to drink please, thanks~

A genie-kin! realizes Marcus as the crimson-hued woman enters the dimly-lit common room. Not the most common sight even out here, he muses. Seems the lottery is drawing all types.

Hearing her interest in the tombs, he leans over. "What good timing - I was just looking for some explorers to join me in the Necropolis tomorrow. Marcus Bale, at your service."

Assuming she introduces herself, he continues. "The tombs are likely to be highly dangerous for the unprepared. What can you do?"

After a few moments, the bartender hands Salomae a glass of water as well as a tankard of something that looks like beer but smells oddly sweet. Slowly, she takes a drink and is pleasantly surprised by the taste - there is indeed beer in there but also some sort of sweet fruit as well as a hint of...

Cinnamon? They certainly don't make drinks like this back in Oppara.

She scans the tavern once more as she quietly partakes of this new-to-her beverage, eyes and ears open for signs of any promising leads on a group to join. Her wait is a short one; after only a few minutes a man adorned with what appears to be an odd assortment of junk enters and makes his way to the bar, followed shortly thereafter by a woman with unusually red skin and hair as black as pitch.

Kn. Local (Strange Woman): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Descendant of the flame...you saw one in Absalom, remember? I wonder what draws her to the lottery? The man looks like a collector of some sort...or a trinket vendor.

Listening to the two as they converse but not attempting to be especially discreet or obvious, her ears perk up as both of them mention seeking to enter the Necropolis. Mentally, she echoes the question posed by the man who identifies himself as Marcus, nodding to herself in agreement and approval.

Good question...seems like a planner, this one. That's a very good thing. The fireblood looks as if she knows how to handle a blade...also a very good thing.

Alayi turns to Marcus when he introduces himself.
Ah, Alayi Ah'Mheed, at yours then.

She nods at the assessment of the tombs that will be opening tomorrow. Alayi had already got the feeling it would be dangerous, of course, being tombs and all that.

As for what I can do, I am good with my scimitar, these interesting dagger things called "kunai" from the far east, and I have a good eye for traps, or hope so anyway. Though the best thing about me is my personality!

As she finishes speaking she picks her bag up off the floor to show her thieves tools she is carrying, and then she pulls out one of the kunai to show as well.

I have found these things, look like they can also be used as crowbars and pitons if needed in a pinch.

Her excitement might be showing a bit too much so she calms down and puts her gear away and looks back and Marcus.

And since you are offering, might as well join you. I just got here so I have not met any other groups, but the ones I seen look rather, پر, er, full, as you might say.

The short, but purposeful, young Osirian woman strides into the inn, looking around wearily. It's a far cry from what she is used to - what she grew up with - but her funds are almost exhausted.

If she realises how unusual a sight she presents, she either apparently doesn't know or doesn't care: the makeup (several stripes of kohl around the eyes, green malachite and cinnabar on the eyelids and lashes) and the cut and colour of her clothes immediately suggest Osirian nobility - although it's clear that the cloth is homespun flax, rather than silk. On most people, it would look like a child dressing up; but she carries herself with certainty and poise, as to the manner born - and somehow, on her, it works.

The babble of foreign languages surrounds her - Taldan, which she speaks, and Keleshite, which she never troubled herself to learn, are the most prevalent; but there are other languages too. Some are even making an attempt to speak Osirian; one of them, a tall, bearded Taldan, appears to speak it fluently. This merits a raised eyebrow.

Time to face facts, she reminds herself. Whatever Grandmother Mimfetevekh would have said, the fact is that venerable blood by itself will not keep her in the life she was accustomed to. She is out of friends, out of money and out of luck. Perhaps the fact that this foreigner speaks her language is a sign; she could certainly do with one.

Ninevekhti frowns. She would have liked to wash off the dust of her journeying, change clothes and oil and perfume her hair before beginning any new acquaintance; but she knows she is pressed for time. The lottery is tomorrow, and by the sounds of it there are precious few openings left. Time presses.

Walking with determination up to the man who introduced himself as Marcus, she addresses him in the language of her people. It is of no consequence to her whether others understand or not.

"ഋഌഎഏൂ ഐഒ ഓഔ കഖഗ. ഘങ ചഛജഝ ഞഡഢ ണത ഥദധനപഫൗ. ബൠൡ൧ാ ൨൩൪ൾ ൽൻ ൯൬൬ി. ൾൿ ഘങ ചഛ?"

Satati finishes her water and conjures more, watching the people milling about. There was a group seeming to form, one for the lottery, from the sounds of it. Sipping at her drink, she turns from her table, watching a few moments before standing and running a hand back over her shaved scalp, webbed fingers and sheer blue skin betraying her lineage easily.

She strides barefoot across the room to the group, greeting them with a stiff bow, loose linens rustling against leather armour. A mace hangs at her side, a symbol of an asp at her sternum. "It seems you are all seeking the necropolis," she says, in a cool, calm voice like the water whispering through reeds. The smell of the Sphinx still hangs about her from her recent swim from Tephu, fresh and green. "There are likely to be undead. If there are, you need me."

Marcus looks the red-skinned woman up and down. Might as well bring her along. After all, two pairs of eyes are better than one for spotting the traps the ancient tombs are sure to have, he thinks. "It'll be a pleasure to have you along, Alayi," he says.

Goodness, this one is pretentious, the grizzled archaeologist thinks amusedly as the Osiriani noblewoman approaches. He answers her in Taldane, locking eyes with her. "That's quite right, it's going to be a dangerous delve into the tombs. I'll need companions who understand the importance of what's down there and can be trusted not to smash and defile the priceless relics we're sure to find. I take it you fit that bill better than most." He glances at her outfit, looking for weapons or equipment. "There'll be danger. What can you do in a fight?" His tone is that of an honest query, not one accusing her of uselessness, but he persists in the usage of Taldane.

I know that the xenophobic Ninevekhti would consider Marcus foreign for not being pureblooded, but he does have the dark skin of someone with strong Osiriani heritage.

As the blue-skinned woman with webbed fingers rises, Marcus does a double-take, glancing at her, then at Alayi, then back to her. He quirks an eyebrow. "You two know each other?" Seeing blank stares, he shrugs. "The blessings of the old gods would serve us well in the tombs," he says, looking to the asp symbol on her breast. "I take it you serve the Green Empress then?" he says, using an ancient epithet of the serpent-headed river goddess.

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28 Nat 20, nice.

The young woman relaxes almost imperceptibility, partly at the statement of intent, partly as she realises that what she originally mistook for weathering is in fact the man's natural colouring. Ah. Part Osiriani. That explains the facility with language.

Switching effortlessly, if reluctantly, into Taldane, she indicates the two wickedly curved, bronze-handled daggers at her belt. "These are ornamental only. One ... that is to say, I ... have facility with the arcane; One - I - can summon numerous entities, and cast spells. The study of alchemy is also mine. One would ask the same of you, beyond your obvious talent for organising."

Manners. There is no need for standards to lapse simply because of circumstances... She hears Grandmother's voice in her head.

Looking up at Marcus from her barely five feet in height, she murmurs in embarrassment "One is not able to effect a formal introduction; nevertheless, one heard your name is Bale. I am Ninevekhti of the family Khamutep." Ninevekhti is torn: to offer her first name is over-familiar, but to offer her family name only is to invite the Taldane honorific of "miss" - which is truly intolerable.

Ah. A solution strikes her. "Perhaps you might like to address me as 'Neve'? I understand that my name and language can cause difficulties for... outlanders." Yes. A familiarity offered from charity causes no difficulties, and it avoids the issue of an honorific. She is quietly pleased with herself.

Alayi nods and smiles as Marcus looks at her.

I hope you like what you see then.~ She giggles slightly afterwards.

She then noticed this, dust covered woman walk to Marcus and spoke with him, in what she believed as Osirioni.
What a impetus woman.
Alayi has slightly stern eyes at her. The heat around Alayi rose just slightly before cooling back down to normal temperature.

As Alayi was about to turn around a take a sip of her drink that the barkeep brought her, she heard Marcus's comment she stares blankly at him then towards the undine that has walked to them.
Oh, an undine. I have not seen many of your kind before.
She turned back to Marcus and continues.
Any god's blessing could be of use. We are going into a tomb by tomorrow at the early as right after the lottery.
Then after a couple seconds, Alayi gives Marcus a questionable look.
What is this "Green Empress" you speak of?

A plain looking young man sat alone, nearby, half-listening to the group talk among themselves about the tombs. He considered speaking up, but wasn't sure what to say. His destiny was in those tombs, wasn't it? What if these others got to it first? There had to be something he could do about that...

"A pleasure, Ninevekhti," the man replies. He has no problem being over-familiar, and if his insistence on using Taldane is any clue, he seems like he might even be enjoying making the young woman a bit uncomfortable. None of this can be detected in his tone or expression, though, so perhaps she is simply imagining it.

"As for my skills, I am a researcher and scholar foremost. I dabble in the arcane as well - though I have no doubt your talents eclipse mine. I happen to have studied extensively on the topic of ancient Osiriani tombs, particularly in how they were defended against potential grave robbers. I should be able to bypass any such traps we encounter without damaging the tombs themselves, or the wonders they hold."

Marcus turns to Alayi. "It is an old title for the goddess Wadjet - mother of the River Sphinx and guardian of the Pharaoh. Few follow the old ways in these modern times. Coming across such a follower here - perhaps it is a sign that our mission tomorrow is blessed."

He looks about the room. "That makes four of us, if we are to travel together tomorrow. We could manage with that many, I suppose, but I would feel better if we had at least one more. I understand most teams are registered with six members."

Alayi looks toward Marcus and nods in agreement about using a couple more people for this venture into the tombs for tomorrow.

Well, Maybe we can find a couple more here? Maybe?
Alayi looks around the room for people that might be interested.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
After seeing two people who may be interested, she points them out.
Well, there is the red head right there. Aaand, maybe the guy there with his ear burning of this conversation.

Edit:Oops, it is suppose to be 21, I only have a +1 Mod due to my wisdom score.

"Ah... I'm sorry, I had been planning to venture into the tombs, but I wasn't intending to join any sort of group."

"Alone? The tombs are thought to be incredibly dangerous," interjects Marcus.

"Thank you for your concern, but I shall return safely. My success has been preordained."

Are you sure? There could be any number of things that may, well, lets list what we believe to be in tombs of the rich, or even temples of the dead.

Alayi shrugs as she begins to list what may happen, and takes a deep breath.

I believe Marcus will probably agree with my guesses, but bear with me. Anyway other than just undead things like mummies of course, there will be traps, undying constructs, possibly guardians from other places, weird animals and such, evil things that invaded those "hallowed" halls, and any number of other things that could be there! Who knows if you find a dusty undead, or something big that just smashes you flat!
As she finishes the last of her words, she smacks the bartop next to her with a loud *Flwap* to emphasize her point.

After a few seconds, Alayi looks at the bar, then the many drinks that are sitting upon it. She looks at one of the other customers at the bar, which being the closest one is the red head, she turns to her.

Ah, sorry, I hope I didn't spill your drink. Sometimes I get a bit passionate. Anyway, my name is Alayi, what is yours?

Alayi holds out her hand in a form of greeting, as a handshake toward the red head.

"By who? The gods? Or your own wishful thinking?"

The voice came from over near the corner of the bar, where a pale, redheaded woman with amber eyes sat watching the small group of people with interest. She takes another sip of her beverage, nodding at the plain man sitting by himself. "And even if it is the will of the gods, I also think that most of them wouldn't take offense to you hedging your bets a bit, as it were."

Turning to Alayi, she reaches out and shakes the offered hand. "Salomae Amsel. And you were right earlier, I am interested in entering the Necropolis. You'll forgive me for eavesdropping but in my experience it's always a good idea to size up potential enemies...or partners, in this case."

Her eyes flicker over the assembled group - Alayi, the woman 'Neve', Satati, where they linger for a moment, and Marcus, where they settle. "I'm not in the business of hunting treasure but I know my way around crypts and caverns. I can also be quick when I need to be and quiet when I've a mind to. And though I prefer fighting hand-to-hand, I've some skill with a bow as well as my blade," she says plainly but quietly, clearly anticipating Marcus' question. "As to my reasons for wishing to enter the Necropolis...I simply wish to see to it that the will of the Lady of Graves be done."

"Suit yourself. Good luck in getting accepted into the lottery alone, though. The priests only grant the right to delve to those they expect to succeed. Preordination only convinces if you've seen the vision yourself, in my experience."

"Ah. That could be an issue, then, couldn't it. You're saying I'd have better luck with you, then?"

Ninevekhti's mannerisms grate against Satati like the sea wearing down cliffs. Slowly but surely, this woman shall weather my resolve, she thinks, shaking her head slightly.

She glances at Alayi, confused for a moment. "I have never met this fireblood before. Why would you assume such a thing?" she asks curiously. She smiles slightly at the cognition, however, fingers briefly brushing the symbol. "Very astute. Not many recognise the old gods these days, but the Green Empress watches over me as surely as the sun in the sky."

She shakes her head again at Alayi's enthusiasm. Typical fireblood. Unable to contain such volatility.

Ah, going to edit this a bit to reflect what was posted.

Well, if He does not wish to help, he can add to the Necropolis. But if he does want to help, how will he do it?

Alayi looks at each person in turn.

Well, we have a good group I guess. lets see;

Then Alayi takes another sip from her glass before speaking.
Ah~ Okay, with that, I think we might be a decent group. And on that thought, Maybe we can pool our gold together and get a bigger room. I want to put my bag in a safe place.

Marcus responds to the plain-looking man. "If you want to have any hope of getting into the necropolis, you will need companions. What can you contribute? Have you power, or skills, that would be of use in the tombs?"

To the undine, he asks, "It would be an honor to have you with us. What is your name?"

He sizes up Salome. Now this is one who knows how to handle herself. You can see it in her stance, and her gaze, he thinks. "We could definitely benefit from your help, Salome."

I believe this will be rather ماجراجویی هیجان انگیز! Er, Exciting Adventure. That is what I said.

Whoops, for some reason I'd thought Satati had given her name already. Sorry!

Salomae shrugs at the plain-looking man and then turns her attention back to the rest of the assembled group. He's been warned of the risks of trying to go alone. If he still insists on it, then it's none of my concern what happens to him.

"I have to admit, at first glance I took you for a junk vendor," she begins, indicating the odd variety of objects dangling from Marcus' person. "But after listening in just now, I know that I was mistaken. You're no junk vendor and you don't strike me as being a fool, either. And as you've already said, one person alone doesn't stand much of a chance, even if they could somehow find entry into the Necropolis in the first place. I'll give you my help and accept your own, in return," she offers her hand to Marcus. "It seems like we're building up quite the varied group, aren't we?" she adds, eyes flickering to the three women once more.

At Alayi's words, she raises an eyebrow. "ماجراجویی هیجان انگیز ؟ شور و شوق خود را تحسین است ، اما این یک بازی نیست، شما می دانید ."

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve," he says to Salomae with a smile, giving her a firm handshake.

Ninevekhti is expressionless as Bale chooses to use her full name; perhaps her overture was too subtle for one who is, after all, only partly Osirion. Dismissing the matter entirely, she listens as the group forms.

The young woman nods at the undine, a hand going to the symbol of Ra entwined into her belt. "One is pleased to know that devotion to the Old Gods may still be found in this land, but one - I - did not capture your name."

As the ifrit mentions the idea of pooling resources for a better room, she is happy to agree. "On - I" - stupid language - "I would be open to that idea; we may get a better deal on a larger room. As for your luggage, my servant can take care of it - Rahel!" Ninevekhti calls out softly, and hands her own backpack over to what looks like thin air; until the backpack doesn't fall.

Casting Unseen Servant

"It looks as though we have a group; if anyone else is in need of a room, perhaps we can determine what may be found in this... place."

"My parents named me Satati," the undine responds, clasping one hand over her heart and giving a short bow, a bare incline of the upper body. "Tephu named me 'of the Reeds', believing me blessed by the Sphinx itself." She glances at Ninevekhti, and the holy symbol in her belt, before giving her a faint nod of recognition and approval. "Blessings of the Old Gods upon you," she murmurs, out of habit rather than respect. The image of the cliff at the shoreline enters her mind again.

Ninevekhti smiles, genuinely, at Satati's invocation: it has been a long while since she heard that blessing, in any language. Automatically she responds as she learned at her grandmother's knee:

"願主保佑讓你,
願耶和華使他的,
臉光照你，
賜恩給你願,
主仰臉的,
光時你給你平安"

Kanji are the best equivalent I can find for hieroglyphics; apologies to Egyptologists/Orientalists everywhere! :-)

It occurs to her that her grandmother would never have acknowledged a blessing in Taldane, still less one uttered by a - nonhuman.

That realisation wipes the smile from her face.

She sighs inwardly. With respect, Grandmother, you are no longer here; except in my head. One does what one can to preserve the old ways, but... No. Useless to ask for a compromise. Grandmother barely understood the meaning of the word. What should one do instead, Grandmother? One can scarcely enter the Necropolis alone! At least these - these outsiders - seem better intentioned than most.

Useless, too, to ask for advice; she can feel the memory of the old woman retreating somewhere to the back of her mind, for a good sulk.

The bartender, who up until this point had watched the spontaneous creation of an adventuring party with a casual smirk, chimes in. "You'll need a name." He chuckles lightly in response to any blank stares. "The Church of Pharasma requires that each participating group in the lottery be named, so they can be more easily regulated and tracked."

A Garundi man in his early forties, he wears his large frame with an easy confidence that belies a skill at arms. His weathered face holds enough scars to put him just past handsome and into intimidating, but he smiles like he means it. "I'm Farhaan," he explains. "If you all are in Wati for the lottery, I have rooms available. At competitive prices." he adds, with a grin.

Alayi turns to Farhaan and grins.
Looks like we are group that will be going to the lottery! We don't have a name yet though.

She turns to the rest of the group.

So, we probably should think of a name before registering or something, for the lottery. Does anyone have any good ideas?

Alayi sighs and shakes her head a few times.

Well, I am not that good with names. Maybe, "The Desert Flames"? Um, maybe not.

She looks a bit sheepish after her suggestion.
>.>

So, any other ideas?

"Somehow, that does not surprise me," Salomae responds, lips twitching in a faint smile of her own.

As the group seems to slowly form and come together, she listens to the ensuing conversation between Neve and the water-born Satati with curiosity, trying to recall what little she read concerning the Old Gods of Osirion, specifically Wadjet and the symbol on Neve's belt.

Kn. Religion: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Wadjet...yes, a good omen to have one of her flock along. And this Neve follows Ra? Also a good omen...and fitting, it seems. Hopefully there will be little to no conflicts of interest here.

However, Neve's sudden switch to a language unfamiliar to her ears forcibly reminds Salomae that for all the reading she's done, she's still a stranger in a strange land here.

Might not be a bad idea to pick up a few words in Osiriani, even if you won't be here that long.

"As far as names go, being creative isn't exactly my forte either," she sighs as Farhaan introduces himself and reminds them that they still lack a group name. "Aren't these things usually based on some sort of common thread amongst the people in the group? Cliche as can be, but it's as good a place to start as any."

Satati raises an eyebrow at Neve's blessing. "I have often read those words in that tongue, but never heard them spoken," she says softly. "You are indeed one who follows 古い方法."

She glances back at Farhaan, nodding. "Yes, a name. I was never too good with them myself," she admits with a small shrug. "I vote against 'The Desert Flames', though. Fire has no control - it exists only to destroy, to consume. We are seekers of knowledge, and such a violent name does not become us."

Alayi shrugs at the vote against her suggestion.
"Yes, I would thought so. But what would be a good name? The Finders of the Past? Hmm, maybe the Tomb Guardians? Or maybe a bit more religious bent kinda, The Green Asps? What do you think?

Alayi takes another sip from her glass, then turns to Satati.
You do know a flame is good for other things after all, right? It cooks food, heats a home, helps crops grow, and other things. Not to mention the big ball of fire in the sky too;" Alayi points upward "Which brings light. One could say the same of the destructive power of the water too. Swallowing all within its wake and such, but you don't blame it for what it is, you praise it for what it is useful to you."

Alayi finishes off the last of her drink and puts it back on the bar.

"Farhaan, may I get another glass, I feel like I am getting a bit heated, and need to slate my thirst"

"Well, if throwing my lot in with you all, quite literally, will improve my chances, I suppose I must accept. Perhaps, if you wouldn't mind me suggesting, we might be called 'The Pharaoh's Blades'?"

Feeling unusually philosophical, Salomae coughs quietly before intruding on the conversation. "You're both correct, each one is a destructive power...as well as a benevolent force, are they not? It would be the same for the other two elements, the earth and the wind. Things grow in the earth but the earth can also turn sour or even crack open to swallow cities. And seeds are carried on the wind...which can just as easily topple the tallest of trees," she muses. "It seems to me that all four are necessary...and rely on the others to maintain balance. Something to think about, no?"

"Glad to see you're not as eager to visit the Lady's Boneyard as you first seemed to be," she nods as the solitary man chimes in. "I believe the rest of us have given our names. You are?"

"Perhaps, if you wouldn't mind me suggesting, we might be called 'The Pharaoh's Blades'?"

"One will not be associated with that - that upstart, the so-called 'Ruby Prince' who can barely trace his lineage back seven generations!"

Ninevekhti is vehement about this. The newcomer could scarcely have chosen a title more likely to annoy her.

Don't use Kanji for heiroglyphics. Just... don't. Spoiler boxes are fine.

"I notice he didn't say which Pharaoh," Marcus observes. "But I disapprove as well. None of us are an agent of the Pharaoh." He glances at the others. "I assume not, at least. It would be inappropriate to take on such a name."

He thinks for a moment. "Perhaps something more general. How about 'The Circle of Six.'"

"Not a fan of the Prince, then? Ha, well, if it matters at all, I had rather intended to honor the pharaohs of the past, rather than the present.

Forgive me, though. My name is Menedes Khafra. I have traveled a ways to reach here, but I suspect not nearly as far as you. Taldan, perhaps?"

"General and understated. I like it," Salomae nods to Marcus. "And as Menedes has guessed, it looks as if I'm the farthest afield from home - which makes me being an agent of the Pharaoh rather unlikely. Yes, Taldan...I traveled by way of Oppara since it was closer than traveling south to Qadira and taking a ship from there."

Alayi turns back to the conversation after getting her drink refilled.
"I think the "Circle of Six", sounds good too. So how do we proceed from here? DO we register so we are in the lottery, or what? I just got here today so I don't know much about what is going on other than just the opening of the tombs."

She takes another sip from the glass, then coughs a bit.

"Ohhh... This stuff, I am not use to. Might have a bit too much fire to it."

"You'll need to register at the Grand Mausoleum. Massive Pharasman church in the Midwife. You can't miss it." Farhaan adds. "It's not a complicated process. You go in, give the church your name, and you'll get a token to present when you get your first assignment."

"So... The Circle of Six is what you're settling on, huh?"