Shaggar hisses as he tries unsuccessfully to avert his eyes, Clever damn Osirians! I should have seen that trick coming. He hrmphs and settles down to wait for the lift to come back down.
Shaggar lurks another thirty minutes, teeth bared at the slight twinge of ache in his gut, or maybe it's his head. It is very quiet, and nothing jumps out to eat his face. It's now forty-minutes into the two-hour block of his watch. Continuing to lurk at the shaft?
Blissfully unaware of all of this, Lyrian sleeps the sleep of the Just and Unconcerned.
Patience is an ally Shaggar knows well. All other things being quiet, he waits another 30 minutes.
Shaggar gets a cramp in his knee! Okay, probably not really.
He waits, like an ambush predator. And waits. And waits. Eventually he picks up the faint rumble that presages the return of the lift. Squinting up into the blackness of the shaft, he sees it returning. The stone creature continues its relentless downward march, never so much as glancing away from the wall that it faces.
Barring Shaggar doing anything to stop it, the platform descends past him once more. It is still unoccupied. His bottle is sitting where he placed it, uncrushed and intact.
The living statue, and his burden, moves past Shaggar and continues downward at an unhurried pace.
After confirming that going up isn't likely to end in his allies being turned into a fine paste on the ceiling, Shaggar returns to the room, informs Javi quietly of everything that happened - especially the rune - and takes up his guard post. When he is relieved by Heldar, he informs the oracle of the events in detail as well, then goes to sleep.
Heldar is awakened and informed, because information is power. He settles in to his shift.
The first two hours of Heldar's long watch passes uneventfully, except that twice, he hears the rumbling and groaning that he knows signifies the passage of the stone creature that Shaggar mentioned.
It's dull, sitting awake in the dark with only his own magical light to see by and his companions sleeping. And, you know, there's those thirty-some dead warriors in the room with him. But Heldar's a Pathfinder! Corpses don't bother you!
It's still boring, though. Hope he brought something to read.
Heldar has been awake about three hours, by his guesstimation-- it is rather hard to keep track of time in the middle of a stone structure with no windows to the sun or the stars, after all-- when he hears a new sound intruding on the silence. It sounds like... music? Very faintly, somewhere on the other side of the door that the group has spiked shut.
Between the environment, the excitement, and the fact that they'd gotten a full night of sleep not too many hours ago, Javi rests fitfully.
Having been in possession of the magical ring for some time now, Heldar has come to understand the importance of keeping your mind busy when one third of your life is not spent sleeping.
While on watch, he takes notes on his journal, double checks his gear, ponders on his own powers and their significance to others and himself. But mostly, he studies the room they are in, closely observing each and every single dead warrior around them - he thinks about their past, and how they may have gotten there, their stories and lives.
And then there is music. Faint music...
Moving close to the shut door, he listens carefully to the sounds.
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Yep. Still sounds like music. The door is pretty thick, after all, and nice and solidly shut.
You think if it was just outside the door, it would probably be louder... you're probably hearing something that's coming from some distance away, with the door further muffling the noises.
Heldar leans his back against the jammed door, and enjoys the music but does not open it.
His senses remain attentive for any other sights, sounds or smells, but he otherwise does not wake his companions.
It's very faint, through the door, but it sounds a little like this, perhaps.
After what Heldar would guess as twenty minutes, the sound ceases.
The rumbling noise occurs again. And another time. And two more times. It occurs to you you can use that as a fairly accurate way to mark the passage of the hours, since it does seem to be happening at about that interval.
After the sixth rumble, Heldar starts to wake the others. Rosalia looks slightly less peaked, this morning... well... mid afternoon.... early evening... whatever time it is now.
Rook restlessly prowls around, meowing insistently at Rosalia, who grimaces. "Yes, yes, I know-- I'll tell you what, how about you do your business on the body of that damned spider--"
Javi pops up from restless sleep like a kid on his birthday, literally bouncing on his toes as he preps and checks his gear. "So, what's the plan today? Check the weird snake shaft or hit one of the doors?" As the group does their own preparations, the little thief checks his powders on the off-chance there were any unseen visitors during their rest.
"We should clear this level," opines Lyrian, yawning and wishing for a cup of coffee. "Then try that shaft."
"Anything happen overnight?"
Heldar relays to the others the sound of the song on his watch , and Shaggar tells any who didn't already know it about the stone creature and his platform.
Rosalia gets to her feet, restless to be out of this room, at least.
"We have four doors on this level," she says crisply, "though it seems logical that those stone-slab doors with the identical inscription lead to the same room. I agree with Lyrian that we should clear everything here first before trying to go up or down. So... the doors to the 'traitor', the double doors, or the doors promising 'knowledge and immortality'?"
The sarcasm in Rosalia's tone makes it clear how much faith she puts in that latter promise.
"The double doors, I think," says Lyrian. "Traitors get killed, those seeking immortality probably wind up serving the pharaohs for all time. Serious contenders go in through the main doors."
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Shaggar gives a snarl-like grin. "Your reasoning is flawless, sayyid."
Javi does a quick inspection of his powders as the team discusses, leaving them in place as he rejoins them. "I'm up for a challenge," he says as he snaps his goggles into place, "double doors it is."
He -swaggers to the double doors, doing his best impression of a paranoid ex-thief as he checks the doors one more time for traps or unpleasantries.
The tall, gleaming golden doors hold no hidden threats that Javi can detect.
When he touches gently on the doors to test if there is any give or resistance, they swing open soundlessly and easily, despite their weight; seemingly perfectly balanced.
There is a large room behind, faced on all walls with the smooth green marble, though the color is especially rich here, a deep emerald hue. Stone pillars carved to resemble palm trees jut from the floors at intervals, to rise seamlessly into the ceiling which is detailed with an intricate relief of overlapping palm fronds.
However, your attention is probably more on the four statues. Each one stands before a large door. Each door is marked with the rune of one of the four pharaoahs, though the symbols are not circled.
West to east, the statues are:
- A statue of an ibis-headed humanoid, writing on a tablet with a stylus; this statue is standing in front of a door marked with the rune of the Pharaoh of Numbers;
- A statue of a winged cobra. The statue is standing in front of the door marked with the rune of the Cerulean Pharoah;
- A statue of a cat-headed humanoid. This statue is standing in front of a door marked with the rune of the Radiant Pharaoh;
- A statue of a jackal-headed humanoid, bearing a long staff in hand. This statue is standing in front of the door marked with the rune of the Fiend Pharaoh.
Each statue is beautifully decorated, overlaid with gold, inset with precious and semi-precious stones, and they are masterworks of craftsmanship. It's as if each were trying to outdo the other in splendor. Each stands between five and seven feet tall.
There is also script written on the floor in large, inlaid-gold hieroglyphics. In Ancient Osiriani, it reads:
Javi grunts, "Clean water and serpents, huh?" He looks back at the pathfinders, "We close for any of you to see what kind of magic we have in here?"
Shaggar peers at the words, then grunts and reads them aloud to the group.
The room is unlit save for the light sources you have brought with you-- Heldar's light spell, in other words . Rosalia moves up behind Javi and murmurs words as she peers into the room.
"...there's definitely magic on the statues," she says after a moment's study. "Let's see here--"
"...huh. I think it's illusion magic," Rosalia says with a frown. "I'd have to get closer to positively identify the spell."
”Illusion, huh?” The thief mutters as he pulls his wayfinder from its little pocket, whispering it to light and letting it hang from his belt. He frowns as he peers into the shadowy room, his fingers mindlessly running over his gear, ending with a quick re-securing of his goggles. ”Unfortunately for me, discernment was never one of my strengths…” he shrugs as he takes his first soft step forward, ”… luckily i make up for it in curiosity. I’ll let you know if it seems safe enough to come take a look yourselves.”
He pauses before continuing further, looking back at the crew. "My best guess?" he whispers with an uncertain tone. "We need to figure out which one of these big guys is the right key to get us beyond this room, but triggering the wrong statue will bring some flavor of 'deceitful serpents' down on us. As for which one is right ...." he gives a shrug as he turns back into the room and continues his entrance.
Javi avoids moving directly into the center of the room, instead running a hand lightly along the cold wall as he quietly circles the left-side perimeter. He moves slowly, trying to watch and listen every direction at once, attempting to catch the subtle hints of hidden snares, traps, or dangers.
Javi pulls out his waterskin. ”Truth, discernment, and water, huh?” he mutters quietly to himself. he pours a bit of water into his palm and flicks it on the statue.
"I'll follow when you give the signal," Rosalia says to Javi. "Be careful."
Javi slips forward like a shadow, careful of step, sharp of eye, light of foot. He looks warily at every crack between the floor-stones; every hairline fracture between wall panels, but nothing triggers his paranoia until he's closer to the doors.
Squinting at the door revealed by the light of his wayfinder, Javi is fairly certain that the nearest door (the right-most one) has the glint of a needle shining in the handle's area-- more than likely poisoned, unless he misses his guess. He's not quite close enough to tell if the other doors are similarly adorned.
He flicks a few droplets of water onto the nearest statue, which he sees no traps upon.
A few drops of water land on a statue. Splish.
Nothing else seems to happen.
Javi pulls a piece of chalk from his belt pouch, writing a big, obvious arrow on the wall next to the needle with a few words.
Needle on handle. Poison? --->
Then he moves quietly on towards the next statue and door, once again searching for traps or threats.
... and he once again flicks some water on the golden cat statue as he checks it, too, for clues or traps.
When Javi steps closer to the door and the jackal-headed statue, the statue moves! Or at least, its head does. The jaw of black stone, set with teeth of white quartz, opens, and a guttural voice rings out, speaking in Ancient Osiriani-- easily enough translated for those who can't understand the tongue, by those who do.
"The true path is behind either the door of the Radiant Pharoah, or the Cerulean Pharaoh," the statue says with a hint of a jackal's growl to his words.
Rosalia groans on hearing the translation. "I can see where this is going," she mutters, facepalming into her hand.
Javi cautiously circuits the room, and discovers several other things of note.
Javi finds no other traps in the room beyond the needle traps. Although he does think he can hear... music... coming through the doors, very faintly.
He now has sprinkled several statues with the anointing of his blessing. They do not seem reactive.
"Doesn't this seem too simple..?" - Heldar ponders aloud to his companions - "It would seem the Cerulean Pharaoh's door would be the true path but... For some reason I cannot bring myself to believe things are so straight forward"
The gnoll scratches his head and addresses the statues, "Can we ask you questions?"
The statues remain silent to Shaggar's questions.
Rosalia frowns. "I agree, that seems too simple," she mutters.
"It does say truth is a... a 'lone well', you said? Perhaps only one of them is telling the truth..."
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Javi gets out his chalk. "I hate smart people."
He begins writing out the logical paths of each statement, assuming one door is telling the truth... then comparing that statement to the logical results if the other three are assumed to be false. He does this four times, each assuming a different door is truthful.
In the end, he has a bunch of chicken scratches on the wall. He circles one and steps back.
If 2, then 1 or 4.
1 is false = 1 or 4.
3 is false =\= 3
4 is false = 4
"My best bet is that 2 is telling the truth and the 4th door is the right door." he shrugs, "But I'm open to better logic."
"Sorry ... that would be the Pharoah of Numbers's door."
Rosalia tilts her head as Javi logics out the statements of each of the statues. When he finishes, she offers a rare smile.
"I think I agree with your logic. But.... just in case you're wrong... I'll let you try the door," she smirks.
Lyrian gazes at Javi and at his writing, struggling to comprehend.
"Um...logic? Care to explain that? I was just going to look for a well of some sort."
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Javi gets out his chalk. "I hate smart people."
"This explains why you like me, friend Javi." Shaggar scratches his head and examines the thief's chicken scratches. He frowns at them. He growls at them. Finally, the gnoll says, "If only one statement can be true then I agree with Javi that only the Radiant Pharoah's statement is true. As this is a 'math' problem, that would also indicate the Pharoah of Numbers as well."
Javi shrugs at Rosalia’s suggestion, then responds over his shoulder to Lyrian as he crosses the room towards the door behind the Pharaoh of Numbers’s statue. ”To come before our nice, friendly god-kings here, we have to show discernment. And I think Rosalia’s interpretation of the second line rings true … a lone well of clean water surrounded by deceitful serpents. So I’m assuming three of these statues are telling complete lies while one of them is saying a truth.” He pause at the door and gives the room one more look to make sure there’s nothing he’s overlooking.
Javi continues at the door behind the statue of the Pharaoh of Numbers, talking as he inspects the door one more time. ”So I started with the first pharaoh, assumed his statement was true, then assumed the others were fully lying, and reconciled the statements together to see which set of truths and lies came together to form an actual answer. Only one set of truths-and-falshoods came with a single, non-contentious answer … at least that I could figure out. According to all that, the cat there is truthful, and the ibis is the correct door.”
”Oh,” he mentions as he looks for a mechanism to open the door while being wary of the hidden snake-fangs. ”All four doors have hidden, possibly poison-tipped fangs. So be careful.”
No sign of a hidden door, even after Javi carefully raps around and doublechecks.
Rosalia sidles closer, though staying a healthy distance back from the traps Javi has warned of. Her cat mews from her shoulder as if agreeing with all of Javi's logic.
Though Javi is fairly certain of his own conclusions, he's taking no chances: the wily thief uses some of his tools to bend and tweak the 'fangs' of the snake door-handles so that even should the mouth close, it couldn't possibly pierce his skin or deliver whatever that liquid is. Finally, he tries the door. It swings open effortlessly beneath his light touch...
...sunlight assaults his eyes, and Javi blinks as he stares into a huge room. An opulent room, a beautiful room, high-ceilinged, bathed in light and noise and fresh air-- all of it a shock to the senses after the closeness and darkness of the cold, still, dead tomb so far.
The chamber Javi is staring into is at least fifty feet wide, and the far wall at least eighty feet away from him. The ceiling is vaulted, thirty feet high, and the entire west wall is broken up by huge open-air windows that look out onto a magnificent view of a bustling Osiriani city-- it is very clearly not Sothis, as it does not feature the distinctive, towering black dome of the Scarab Shell, yet you can think of no other city in Osirion that could equal the size and grandeur of the view. Broad plazas and grand boulevards vie with monuments and obelisks for attention. Over the largest of these plazas hangs an immense waterfall in mid-air, originating from nowhere, plunging down into a reservoir that branches out into a dozen massive aqueducts, taking the water out through the city.
The view out the windows is spectacular and surreal. Hot desert air comes through the windows as well, though its heat is somewhat broken by a breeze that stirs Javi's clothes and smells of spice, oranges, and perfume.
The view inside the room is rather remarkable, as well.
Ahead of him, a single walkway of the ubiquitous green marble shoots forward, arrow-straight, inlaid in a greater geometric pattern made by other marble colors. Borderlines between the marble blocks glint as if made of precious metals. The east wall of the room is lined with benches and green, growing plants.
The path shoots between two large black jackal-statues, sitting on their haunches; it goes between two huge braziers, one roiling with flame that burns without any apparent fuel, and the other boasting a fountain of crystal-clear water; it goes between two huge and incredibly-lifelife statues of hooded cobras; and it eventually comes to a stop just before a raised dais.
On the dais there are four thrones.
Three of them are occupied.
The first throne is empty; the second features a beautiful woman, clad in diaphanous pleated linens and jewelry that would make the Trade Princes of Qadira weep to see it. The third chair holds a tall man with a hawk-like nose, clad in robes of a deep azure. The fourth chair holds a man, less tall than his fellow, dressed in black and gold, with a mask of hammered gold over his face. They strongly resemble the statues trapped statues you observed in the first hallway.
All three of the figures wear some form of elaborate and regal headwear: a crown, put more simply.
All three of them turn their heads to look Javi's direction at the opening of the door.
There was music playing, faintly, that Javi could hear through the door-- he can just see a trio of musicians off to the east of the dais. It continues a beat or two after he has opened the door, and then cuts off abruptly. There's a ringing silence.
"Well," says the woman, after a few seconds. "Supplicants. What a pleasant surprise. Enter!"
Confronted with the room’s opulence, exotic sights, and throned rulers, Javi summons every ounce of his usual eloquence. ”… uh … guys?”
Training and responsibility re-exert themselves as he waits for the more diplomatic among the group to take the social reigns, and he gives the room an inspection from his position at the door.
"Yeah," says Lyrian, assuming a rarely-used serious mien. He enters the chamber after Javi and bows deeply from just inside the doors. He has no idea what they're actually looking at, but politeness costs nothing.
"Greetings, great lords," he intones in ancient Osirion.
"It cannot be..." - Heldar whispers to those closeby - "Either we have been transported back in time to the ancient city of Tumen - the former capital city for the Four, or... This is all an illusion?"
Yet, he still reacts to Lyrian's actions, stepping behind the man - "We come to offer our respect and servitude" - he adds.
Rosalia's eyes widen in startlement or disbelief at Heldar's words, and she peers warily around the doorway, but stays in the back for now. She can't understand what is being said in the old tongue, and dare not try her hand at speaking it when others could do better.
At the other end of the hall, the woman adopts a posture of lazy indulgence, one elbow resting on her thrown and her chin on her hand. She smiles. The tall man in the blue robes sits straighter and frowns. The man in the mask moves not at all.
"Hmmm. Respect and servitude? I have plenty of that," the woman says in the same tongue that Heldar and Lyrian are speaking to her. Languidly, she gestures with a hand in the universal 'come closer' gesture.
"What think you, Anok Fero? Do the Four Thrones require more servitors?"
The tall man in blue crosses his arms. "You are the one who collects pets, Ankana. But look: these are no subjects of the Golden Kingdom. Barbarians from the northlands. Who let in such wastrels to audience, and what shall be the nature of punishment for lax guardians?"
"You are tedious," the woman sighs. "Supplicants! Bend your knees, as is fitting before the gods, and tell me what boon you have traveled to beg of us. Amuse me, and perhaps I shall grant it."
The man in the mask observes all of this in silence, long brown fingers steepled before him.
Not understanding the ancient language, Javi simply watches the exchange. "If it's an illusion," he mutters back to Heldar, "It's a damn good one. And interactive, apparently."
Shaggar stays unobtrusively at the rear of the group, providing hushed translations of all that is being said.
Javi's eyebrows rise when Shaggar translates Heldar's offer of servitude. "Woah. Watch out what you promise, there, pathfinder."
Heldar keeps on observing his surroundings attentively, fully convinced that what they are experiencing is not possible. They cannot be facing the Four (actually Three)... Not after simply crossing a door treshold...
He does not hesitate however in keeping up with the charade, taking to one knee, and speaking - "We are seekers of knowledge and enlightenment" - he begins.
"We have travelled from the farthest of possible places, to be present and humble before known to be able to impart such blessings like no other that walks the land" - he adds - "Hence, we kneel before the Four Pharaohs"
Heldar cannot help but raise his eyes, and gazing at what should be creatures of legend, gazing momentarily at the woman he believes to be Ankana, the Radiant Pharaoh.
At the other end of the hall, eighty feet away or so, the three regal figures stare back at Heldar and others. Heldar dares raise his eyes to someone who does indeed look like the Radiant Pharaoh.
The woman smiles.
"For a northern barbarian, he is well-spoken, isn't he? You seek knowledge, you say...?" she says with a chuckle.
"And your companions: show us proper obeisance, outlanders."
When this is translated, Rosalia looks huffy. "Kneel? Before them? Are we-- are we all doing that?" she hisses in a soft whisper to the others. "I could try to see if there's magic in this room, but I doubt the pharaohs... or whoever these are... would appreciate my casting a spell."
Javi winks up at Rosalia. "It's gotta be better than my method." He pantomimes a throwing motion at the pharaohs, "Hit'em with rocks."
He turns serious when he looks back at the seated, ancient rulers. "Can we get closer to them to get a better look? Ask for an audience, maybe?"