With the dead but to rest, Chephren is ready to leave the estate and return to the temple of Pharasma to report their discoveries.
Upon finishing the rites, the group makes to leave the premises, but Chephren reminds them of the fact that the gate they entered had also been haunted. Investigating, he is able to determine that the haunting tied to the gate is a result of the act of them being torn down by the angry mob. To remove the ghostly presence they must be sprinkled with holy water and the gate repaired and affixed back into place. Doing so, though, would likely require the skill of a metalsmith or the like.
"Great. More delays. Do I look like a metalsmith to you? Let's just grab and dash and get out of here."
"This one supports properly letting the dead rest, but also knows nothing of how to work metal. Perhaps Mister Brennan is correct--we should leave it be and climb the wall to exit if necessary."
"Ironic that the spirits of the dead do not wish to let living depart their city." Omen nods to Brennan and Surubi, "As you say then. Which section of wall would you prefer we scale?"
From within the entrance room of the estate, Chephren explains to the group, "Please wait here a moment, I do not recall this haunt being very powerful.
With that he cast guidance on himself, exits the house and approaches the gate to cause the haunt to activate to his presence.
Chephren prepares himself, before stepping into the courtyard to face the haunt. To everyone else, he just stands there, quietly. He flinches once but it passes.
"The effects seem to have passed, let us leave now and head to the main gates of the Necropolis now."
Heading to the broken gate, he squeezes through and waits for the others.
"Alright, let's go check in with the Pharasman priests."
Omen nods and waits for the others to depart first. "Yes, let us speak with these priests. I am eager to see what else has changed during my long years of slumber."
Much like your previous tomb experience, you leave your place of authorized looting much near the middle of the second day. Given the time of day, the sun's unbearable heat lays heavy over all of you like a blanket.
Leaving the Necropolis is a relief, seeing activity and a city teeming with the masses instead of the quiet of death over the interior. To Omen, though, the city's life is a throwback to the life that once was in the part of Wati now known as the Necropolis. The city seems even more busy and bustling with foreigners. The numbers of people that have come to raid for riches sanctioned by the Pharasmin church itself is staggering, as are the numbers of buyers and dealers bringing the market prices to fluctuate wildly.
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Current Effects: fatigued, 3 NL;
"Gods, I forgot how hot it was out here. Why do people live in this misbegotten armpit of the world? No, scratch that. It isn't an armpit. It's lower on the body and decidedly less hygienic. You okay, Cheph? You don't look so good."
A mixed look of shocked amazement and then appreciation crosses Chephren's faces on hearing Brennan's words.
"Yes, I will be fine once we have completed our business for the day. With the number of people selling and buying, we should report our findings quickly before all the good deals are done for the day."
"I will need to keep myself hydrated more, our time in the estate was to much of a luxury from the Osirian heat."
Omen walks in silence as the raging sun beats down from on high. Eventually, as Chephren and Brennan break the quietness of their travel, the strange man found within the Necropolis observes, "This place is Wati? Look how it teems. And with so many foreigners, no less." His tone is filled with equal parts surprise and disapproval, the differences striking him more powerfully given his exhaustion and weariness.
"I trust there is a place where we might enjoy proper beds and baths once our business is concluded?"
HP: 10/14 // Nonlethal 3
AC: 12 (11 T / 11 FF)
CMD: 10
F/R/W: +2/+1/+5 (+2 vs death effects)
Resist: acid, cold, electricity 7
Omens used (swift demoralize): 1/1
Black Motes used: 5/8
Shield charges remaining: 15
Spell Slots Used
Level 1: 3/6
Ongoing Effects
Wisdom damage: 3
Fatigued (heatstroke)
"We have always been in Wati. The Necropolis is Old Wati, from the time before the Plague of Madness more than twenty-two centuries ago. The Church of Pharasma built a temple to honor the murdered dead of Wati and the city of "New" Wait grew around it. The Ruby Prince Khemet III, the Forthbringer, has opened the Necropolis to increase the economy of Osirion and further trade with the various regions of the Inner Sea."
"And yes, we do have a place we can stay at."
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Current Effects: fatigued, 3 NL;
Returning to the city, the group quickly discusses what they would like to do with the treasures that they have brought with them. Some won't be available until they can repair the delicate dress that lies among them. You hit the market for the back half of the day, and sell off what you can or are willing to part with at this point. This awards you a decent amount of coin among you to distribute as you see fit.
It's at this point that, once again, one of your member decide that they have had a rough few days of it. Gabriel excuses himself to head to the Grand Mausoleum. He seeks to recover from the loss of mental faculties he suffered due to the poison.
Brennan went with the others to sell their loot, occasionally butting in on the negotiations if he felt they were being shortchanged in the process. At the end of the day, he retired to his room to count his loot and ponder what to buy with it.
The next morning he joined the others, sans Gabriel, and asked, "So, what is the plan for today? Is there another lottery? Do we need to report to the priests? There are few things I want to buy before we move on to another task."
"I am prepared to receive our next location and return to the Necropolis."
Omen nods at Chephren's suggested course of action. "I would be interested to venture once more into the Necropolis, should the opportunity arise. But, how is it that we are to present ourselves to these priests? Do these Pharasmins simply accept petitioners of any stripe and at any time?"
"We should talk to the priests about what we saw at the last burial grounds--some of those souls need release; and also this one wants to find the wife of the owner of this ring, if possible, and the priests may know who it is."
"Still say we should just sell the ring with the rest of this stuff, but whatever. Let's just get to it. I've got filthy lucre I need to count."
A mixed look of shocked amazement and then appreciation crosses Chephren's faces on hearing Brennan's words.
"Yes, I will be fine once we have completed our business for the day. With the number of people selling and buying, we should report our findings quickly before all the good deals are done for the day."
Chephren has returned to the Grand Mausoleum to report to the Priests of Pharamsa.
Omen follows along to the Grand Mausoleum, trying to learn what he can about the time and city he now finds himself in.
What has become a common sight for the others, stands up as the glorious symbol it is intended to be cutting the skyline of Wati. The Grand Mausoleum rises to dominate the the cityscape. Across from the temple itself lies a gargantuan wading pool, that the locals refer to as Golden Lake, wherein can be found a number of white crocodiles. As usual from the start of the sanctioned forays into the Necropolis, the temple itself is fairly busy with other explorers performing various tasks and making requests for healing and restorations. A priest greets you at the great hall just within the temple's front doors, "What can this one do for you in the name of Pharasma?" He makes the sign of the spiral.
"Greetings, this group has returned from the necropolis and we hoped to report in and maybe get some information. Inside our assigned site we found several things we have questions about. This ring..." Surubi produces the ring to show the priest, "There was a recently deceased man in the site; Pharasma has his soul now and will treat him appropriately if he was a grave robber, but his spouse--or the people this may be stolen from--this one wishes to find them." Surubi pauses for a moment, then motions toward Chephren. "We also encountered some strange creatures; flying heads--one kissed Mister Chephren when he was unable to prevent it. It seemed strange since it could have easily bitten him instead. And lastly," she indicates Omenhotep "We encountered Mister Omenhotep, who I am sure has many questions, as he has been asleep for several centuries."
Though it's likely no one can see it, Omen's eyes widen behind his mask at Surubi's sudden and forthright explanation of his presence. He clarifies, his commanding voice resonant and strong, "She exaggerates, of course. I am quite curious to know about Wati and Pharasma's place over it, however."
Brennan smirked as Omenhotep tried to cover up his sudden appearance in this place. in his mind, the man was entirely unconvincing, but then he didn't like Omen, so that was hardly surprising. Still, it wasn't his way to step in on a situation like this, unless there was obvious profit in it for him.
The priest's eyes slowly grow wider as Surubi begins, and then rattles off a long list of information that the young priest was not prepared for. He opens his mouth to speak, hesitating as he still takes it all in, before Omen cuts in with his own correction.
He nods, before offering, "Well, the library is open to any who come seeking knowledge." He sweeps his arm in a wide arc to the side, "The Grand Mausoleum has an extensive collection of both the birth and death records on everyone that has been born or passed into the Gray since the faith settled here in Wati."
Seemingly uncertain, he uncomfortably repeats the wide arc again, indicating the records hall. "You may also search for any information on the... flying head... that... kissed you. If there is a record of it in association with the Necropolis, you should be able to find it." He nods and cocks his head at Surubi, as if to ask if that helped at all.
He doesn't wait long, however, before he turns to Omen and begins to extol the virtues of Pharasma and her influence over the city of Wati. "Roughly two-thousand years ago, the cult of Lamashtu unleashed a terrible disease called the Plague of Madness on the city of Wati. More than 60 percent of the city’s population perished in the streets and in their homes, and Wati was virtually abandoned for over 450 years. In 2953 ar, the church of Pharasma returned to Wati and established a new temple in the city’s ruins called the Grand Mausoleum."
The information seems to come more comfortably from the man, as likely one of the many things he learned as an acolyte at this temple. "Walling off much of the original city, the Pharasmins transformed the abandoned settlement into an enormous necropolis, consecrating it in honor of the city’s dead. Over the next 1,700 years, people returned to rebuild a new city adjacent to the old one, and today the living city of Wati is more than three times the size of the old city."
Omen nods, appreciating the acolyte's help. "I did not know the Plague of Madness had left Wati abandoned for nearly half a century. Interesting." His gaze floats past the young priest to the library before he snaps his eyes back on the man. "Thank you for your help."
He looks to the others then, "This library interests me greatly and it seems it may hold some possible clue to the former owner of that ring."
"Yes, definitely. This one will begin looking for such records; perhaps Mister Omen and Mister Chephren can work together to find something about the head or something of interest to Mister Omen? Mister Darkblade--I know you are the most capable one to handle the sales of our goods, unless you want to look up something in here?"
"Yes, the libraries of the Grand Mausoleum should have all we need to resolve these questions."
Directing his next statement to the priest, "When can we receive our next lottery location within the Necropolis?"
Despite his curiosity for all that he finds so unfamiliar in and around Wati, Omen puts his efforts to helping Chephren learn what he can of the fiend that attacked them.
Untrained: You cannot make an untrained Knowledge check with a DC higher than 10. If you have access to an extensive library that covers a specific skill, this limit is removed. The time to make checks using a library, however, increases to 1d4 hours. Particularly complete libraries might even grant a bonus on Knowledge checks in the fields that they cover.
The search through the library is long and arduous, as each book thought to possibly contain any help is rifled through. Between Omen and Chephren, nothing of any use can be found about the odd winged heads, or the weird flying one that accompanied them.
Surubi has just as little luck in her own search. The birth and death records are so well tracked, in a temple to Pharasma such as this, that each entry takes long to go through. The names Akar and Panhet also seem to be common enough that she finds more than enough without finding any connection between them to point her in any useful direction.
For both investigations, the end result is pretty much a wash, and turns out to be nothing more than a few hours of wasted time. The best thing to come of the time spent is that, when they meet back up with him at the Tooth and Hookah, Brennan has the take from the goods that were sold in the market.
The inn is full of its usual flurry of activity. New explorers boast of their successes, while other groups drink to those that have fallen in their own searches. Velriana, the entitled and demanding Taldan woman in the flamboyant hat, is once again lambasting the church of Pharasma for their ignorance."...are obviously a bunch of puppets of a corrupt government to think they can dare deny us our right to choose our own sites." The call receives mixed responses, those agreeing with her being the teams that look as if they didn't come out with rewards they feel were equal to their efforts.
The other recognizable, and intrusive, explorer is the redheaded northerner Sigrun Firehair. She looks to have left Brennan alone, given their conversation was not well received from either end. When the others come in, though, she seems excited to approach the group. "Vell, I am pleased to see dat you have made it back." She looks at the change in the group, and offers a nod of respect toward Surubi, "Vell, most of you it seems. Vhut is dis? A mysterious man in a mask? Vhut is your story, stranger? Vhy hide your face?" She scoffs over her shoulder at Brennan, "Dis vun is not villinG to share any juicy stories. Hmmph"
"We all wear masks, do we not?" Omen's posture and tone again project an air of command and authority as he regards the red-haired northerner. "As for my story, as you put it, what manner of story do you like? Do you wish to hear tell of a daring adventurer cast into a land not his own? Or perhaps you wish for a sadder tale of a forsaken traveler, betrayed by those whom he loved who is now left to wander and carve out some semblance of meaning for his life? Or, could it be the tale of a risen pharaoh come now to usher in a new golden age is that which you wish to hear?"
"Juicy stories are for children and lovestruck girls. Listen to the masked man, he likes to spout random nonsense. Even you should get your fill in a short time."
Brennan went back to nursing his drink, thinking about what he needed to buy for the next excursion.
Chephren partakes a modest meal and warm drink, while listening to others around him and watching the other visitors to the Tooth and Hookah.
Sigrun's eyes widen at all the prospective tales, but she narrows them at Brennan's comment. "Juicy stories are vut get recorded in the epics that live lonG after your vorthless bones have turned to dust." Returning her interest back to Omen, she replies, "Tell me vun dat is the most recent. Tell me of your travels and adventures in the Necropolis... maybe over a drink?" It seems by her question that at first she is asking him to buy her one, but as she waves over the barmaid it is clear she is more likely hoping to bribe him into sharing his tales by buying him one.
Chephren notices much of the clientele, and that they haven't changed much in the time that he has shared an inn with them. Most of the group are roughly the same. Sigrun's companions, which you have come to know as an all-female group called Daughters of the Desert, tend to keep to themselves while Sigrun herself makes her rounds. The fiery redhead inserting herself into everyone's conversations only draws the eyes of her companions when it looks like someone might be getting too rude with their captain.
The group of all halflings, known as the Dog Soldiers, seem to be in only slightly better spirits than last time, considering they lost a fair number of their mounts in their first foray. The group known as the Sand Scorpions continues to to skulk among themselves in a corner table, keeping quiet and avoiding any conversation with any of the other groups.
Velriana, the leader of the Scorched Hand who tried to ensure she could buy the rights to a specific lottery draw, continues to extol her offer of paying for one specific site. The motley gang of members that make up the Cryptfinders agree to her claims of having the right to pick ones own sites, but are turning down her offer to sell her their rights to the one she wants in the chance they draw it.
Chephren tries to pick up on the location that the Scorched Hand seems very eager to gain access to. It may be information they could exploit for profit later.
The site in question is the same one the haughty Taldan woman has been claiming rights to from the first night. The place is called The Sanctum of the Erudite Eye. She declares that due to her being a devout follower of Nethys, the church of Pharasma has no claim to deny her access to it, nor award it randomly to some other group as part of a ridiculous lottery.
Omen nods at the offer of a drink, though his posture remains rigid and commanding as he gestures for Sigrun to lean on. As the masked man follows, he briefly inclines his head to regard Velriana, but then returns his attention to Sigrun as she offers him a seat.
"You wish to know of our time within the Necropolis? Very well. It seems these Pharasmins have done a poor job of keeping the dead dead and of preserving the ancient paths and houses of Wati, for the streets and ruins within are riddled with beasts and the unquiet dead alike." He accepts a goblet of wine at this point, savoring the aroma before taking an exploratory sip.
"When I first came upon the Architects, they had just vanquished a strange creature made of sand and stone. We wandered for a time after that, before securing ourselves for an evening's rest. Ghostly apparitions had other plans though, and gave us little pause, as they lured us out into the night where monstrous insects, centipedes the size of horses, lurked in the chittering dark."
He proceeds to explain all of their violent encounters, though he is careful to withhold information regarding what they had recovered. He weaves the tale with slight exaggerations that focus on the savage, frightful appearance of their various foes, taking some time to paint a truly vivid verbal picture of the floating head and its vile spawn.
And though it's obvious neither he nor Brennan are on good terms with one another, Omen doesn't disparage any member of the Architects during his recounting. To the contrary, he takes special care to share a moment or struggle in which each member of the group particularly shone and contributed to their overall success.
Sigrun hangs on Omen's every word, and though she seems warm and attentive, it's clear that she has much less interest in the man than she has in his tale. "Dat is all so interestinG, and I thank you for sharinG. If you are goinG back in, I vould be interested to hear more of your tales on your return."
Omen regards Sigrun for a moment, his powerful gaze holding hers for longer than necessary. At last he breaks the silence and nods, "Yes. I'm sure you would."
She nods, before giving a sideways glance, as if she is uncertain of any particular meaning in his response. She, however, doesn't bother to ask, and instead rises and heads over to another group that had entered during Omen's tale. She starts questioning them about their adventures.
The night continues on, mostly uneventful, except for Velriana once again trying to get the other teams to vow to sell her their draw should they get the Sanctum of the Erudite Eye that she claims is her right.
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The feeling of waking up in a bed, despite the heat of the day already becoming oppressive, is much better than the sleep the group found within the Pentheru manse. Today will be the day of the third lottery drawing, and the team has some time before the drawing this evening to try and conduct whatever business they have in mind. Brennan, not needing any extra incentive to be angry, finds that the mark he got on his forehead from the Tomb of Akhentepi is still present.
In the morning, when the group comes together again to prepare for the day, Omen addresses them discreetly. "When I first came upon you at the Pentheru Estate, I had mentioned a powerful relic. Though my mind still remains cloudy of many details, that woman Velriana's noisome drive yestereve to gain access to the Sanctum of the Erudite Eye struck a chord. I still know not what form this relic takes, but I know that Sanctum is where it was laid." He pauses for a moment, regarding each member of the group in turn. "I believe there may be both great power and great wealth within that tomb. How does this lottery work? What are the odds the allotment should fall to us?"