Without hesitation, and noticing the distress in Rosalia's voice, himself worried at the fate of the faithful companion, Heldar extends his own life force to connect with Rook, making sure he will not fall under the grasp of the pervasive tentacles.
Lyrian? Look just above your own post, Madame!
The Wasp tries to make sense of the scene.
"What do I need to be dong?" he barks at Heldar.
"Javi! Rosalia is acting strange - she tried to open the sarcophagus, and attacked me when I stopped her - I think she is under the influence of... Something" - Heldar strains to speak from the grasp of the tentacle - "We need to restrain her as soon as possible"
"On it!"
Javi zips at her, his blade clattering to the floor as he tries to grab Rosalia.
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"Just stay there until this passes," Lyrian advises Shaggar. They're all in the soup at the moment and Javi's putting some moves on Rosalia. Not a lot I can do about it."
"Right," Shaggar nods. He pauses, looking up at Lyrian, then observes, "...you're still in the 'soup' yourself."
Rosalia shrieks again as Javi barrels into her and wraps his small but strong arms around her in a secure lock-down. "Let go!" she says, kicking and flailing ineffectually. "I have to help Rook!!!"
By the time the tentacles dissolve into the floor again, Rosalia has been trussed up soundly, though she's no longer actively resisting. She is curled up on the floor as best her bonds allow, shaking with quiet sobs after ineffectually thrashing around for a while. Rook takes a moment to lick himself and recapture his dignity after having been manhandled by otherworldly tentacles for thirty-five seconds... then pads over to Rosalia and headbutts her cheek, mewing insistently.
Rosalia makes a little hiccuping noise and quiets, relaxing somewhat within the ropes.
Shaggar comes on up when the all-clear signal is given, moving warily through the illusory wall. He looks a moment at Rosalia lying on the floor.
"That doesn't look good," he rasps.
The room is quiet, now, at least.
”Agreed,” Javi responds quietly from his seated position on the floor, small hand resting protectively on Rosalia’s boot as he watches her, his features painted with doubt. ”Rosalia … what happened? Are you okay?”
He looks up at Heldar and Lyrian, ”Is there some way you can see if something has some kind of power over her? Of her mind?” He looks back, watching Rook comfort his larger companion. When he continues, his voice is thick with what sounds like regret, ”Or is this just some kind of emotional trauma?”
Finally free from the tentacles, Heldar moves to Rosalia and Rook - "There. We are all safe for now" - he speaks in a firm tone.
"I cannot say" - he answers Javi - "But she was not herself, that much I was sure of when she attacked me" - the oracle adds - "This is not just emotional trauma. I think someone was controlling her actions. Perhaps the one entangled with Shaggar, but perhaps not..." - he looks around, and particularly at the sarcophagus - "She was trying to open this. I tried magic to break the force controlling her but could not"
"I wonder what could be inside..."
Turning to Rosalia again, he continues - "How are you feeling Rosalia? Can you tell us what happened?"
"Let me take a look," says Lyrian kneeling over his friend. "Rest easy, Rosalia," he says.
Rosalia's immediate answer is to curl up into a smaller ball.
It takes several minutes of calming talk and gentle questions-- Shaggar pats Rosalia on the head and then decides that her flinch means he probably shouldn't do that-- before they're able to get words from her, though they are not the clearest.
"You don't understand... he's so... nice... you have to do what he wants... he's bigger than, than... everything..."
She uncurls enough to lift her face-- her eyes are bloodshot and bleary, but she focuses on Heldar with some effort. "Did I... hurt you? S-sorry-- I, I had to, you were-- stopping me from... doing what he wanted..."
Javi nods sympathetically along with Rosalia’s words, remembering the few moments that the voice was in his head. He squeezes the palm that was only minutes before bleeding into the massive bowl-thing.
”I do understand," Javi responds softly, "... and she’s right. I don’t know why his hold on me is weaker, but she’s right. You just … want to do what he tells you with every piece of you.” Realization blanks his features, then he looks at the group. ”Whatever else we came in here for, I think we have to find a way to close this place’s connection to Golarion. Can you imagine what could happen if this Stranger were to reach through and begin reaching people’s minds?”
Rosalia locks eyes briefly with Javi, then nods with a shudder of agreement to his words about 'wanting to do what he says'.
Lyrian-- well, you're fairly certain some magical effect activated when that stuff with the bowl happened. As Javi has observed, it seems to be affecting Rosalia much more strongly than everyone else. Beyond that... it's sort of hard to know exactly.
"I want to go home," Rosalia mutters, still thoroughly trussed. "I hate Osirion and I, I really hate this pyramid."
Nodding in understanding of his companions, Heldar ponders their reasons for being there - surely they are most varied, as each of them will hold their allegiance to the Society as they see fit.
In his life, it was someone stemming from Pathfinder Society that marked the difference from being lost and finding a path - he would never do enough to repay that - "The pyramid is filled with lost, hateful spirits Rosalia - it is impossible to deal with them without taking a hit to our soul, even if not as deep as you have" - his words are not patronizing, but instead seem more like someone pondering about past events in his life - "Overcoming that is what makes a difference. And in spite of what you may think, it is ok to lean on others. I don't think any of us would ever consider leaving you to such fate, and so it will not happen" - he nods.
With a smile, Heldar adds - "You did hurt me - I wasn't expecting such a hard hit from such a delicate lady. You do pack a punch, so to speak, but as you can see I pack a very particular punch of my own" - he opens his arms, practically unharmed.
"Now, we are here to explore - we should investigate the sarcophagus" - he adds, staring at it.
"In the meanwhile, perhaps checking our defeated opponent for items of use, or relics?" - he comments to his companions, not wanting to dwell on the heavy moment.
With a nod of reassurance to Rosalia, accompanied by a squeeze to her calf above her boot, Javi moves again towards the false wall. He pauses, looking back at the group around Rosalia.
”Shaggar and I will keep an eye on the … woman’s body, but I think it’s smart to wait until we can focus our full attention on searching that shaft, the body, and whatever else is down there. We don’t know what kind of nastiness might be waiting for us down that rabbit-hole. If something seems to change while we’re watching, we’ll shout. Otherwise,” he nods to the sarcophagus and the room around it, ”come on over when you’re done here, and we’ll head down there.”
He scampers back to the shaft, looking down to check on Shaggar. A shaft of light from Javi’s wayfinder accompanies a series of light-toned yips, barks, and growls echoes down through the darkness to the gnoll.
Otherwise, he keeps his senses alert for any more macabre shenanigans from down below ... as well as the un-explored hallway to his right.
Lyrian sets out to do a thorough search of the chamber, on both sides of the illusory wall.
Shaggar grunts at all the discussion, running a big hand over his muzzle thoughtfully and spitting out a few flakes of undead flesh.
"This... malign influence, the Stranger or whatever it is... tried to push her to open the sarcophagus... and we are going to carry out that action?" he says, and barks a hyena-like laugh. "Very well. I'll keep my axe at hand. The pharoah-queen doesn't seem to have moved since Lyrian put arrows in both her eyesockets," Shaggar says with a grunt of respect for Lyrian's impressive shooting. "I don't think she's getting back up."
Rosalia remains tied up, and curled up. She moans faintly to herself as the others do a painstakingly thorough search of the room. Heldar studies the black sarcophagus very intently. He listens at the stone, he chips off a little black rock to analyze, he sniffs it, he decides against licking it...
Ultimately he is very convinced that the black, standing sarcophagus is a) real, and b) made of some sort of black stone, perhaps basalt. It is polished lightly, and well made, but it is on the plain side in terms of decoration, unlike Ankana's gilded, floating sarcophagus you observed in the scale-room. The only decoration is the previously-noted symbol of the Pharaoh of Numbers on the lid, inlaid in gold.
It does not detect as magical. It does not appear to be trapped. There are no sounds coming from inside. It is a sarcophagus.
Shaggar waits, patiently, for the examination to be conducted, and keeps an eye on the vertical shaft, while Javi watches that unexplored hallway. Nothing stirs from either direction.
Rook starts licking Rosalia's face, to her semi-coherent displeasure.
Lyrian: you find nothing new on your exploration of the room. The contents of the room remain as described: several chests and boxes you guys have already looted extensively, various valuable-but-mundane funerary goods, the magical crystal cage with the statue of a servant girl, a jar of a some magical substance nearby, and the strange, large, metallic egg with the couch inside that apparently flies and does other things via magic. Sadly, both you and Rosalia already tried and failed to identify the enchantments of the unidentified objects. But you're really sure they're not traps.
Javi waits patiently, crouched in the darkened hallway as he listens for danger.
Lyrian opens the cage.
"I know Shaggar..." - Heldar nods in agreement with Shaggar, right before he starts checking the sarcophagus - "But can we really afford NOT to open it?" - he adds.
he decides against licking it...
Lyrian, you've already opened the crystal cage before. :P Or did you mean the sarcophagus?
Heldar.... should you lick it... it tastes like cold stone.
"If we're not opening the sarcophagus, I don't know that there's anything else to do in here," says Lyrian.
"Shall we go down and check out what's left of the pharoah we just fought?"
"I think we should check our opponent's remains yes" - Heldar agrees.
"Though I still think we cannot simply leave it like this - first of all it is a mistery, and life is made of mysteries" - he smiles - "Second of all, the reasons that have brought us here I believe are in line with opening it. Do you not agree?"
"Heldar, it's clear that the entity that has assailed Rosalia wants us to open that sarcophagus," says Lyrian. "That's a pretty strong argument against opening it."
After a long pause, he laughs.
"Nope, can't say it with a straight face. Let's open it!"
Javi shakes his head from behind the illusory wall. There were some beehives you poked for the fun of it ... and there were some beehives that were too big to poke. At the same time, he was being paid to keep them alive to do their job ... not tell them what their job is.
With Shaggar and Lyrian covering him with their bows and their ability to see well in the dark, Javi creeps down into the bottom of the shaft. At the floor of the shaft, a room opens off to one side, but Javi hears nothing moving and risks the light of his wayfinder.
He realizes he is peering into the chamber where Ankana's gilded throne had been sitting, on the far side of the 'scale' room from earlier. The weight-moving statue is here, but it does not move at his approach or at his light, and remains stolidly standing in place. The floors are back to being nearly level, though the side that the team had come in on is somewhat lower and the golem-side is somewhat higher. Though he keeps a wary eye on the statue, Javi is able to check Ankana's corpse without interruption.
The undead, re-dead pharoah has a good deal of jewelry on her person, which Javi deftly strips. Several richly decorated amulets, rings, and bracelets get collected by his quick fingers, as well as Ankana's jewel-studded head-dress. Javi also discovers a pouch made of woven linen with gold embroidery that looks worthwhile, tucked inside Ankana's robes; a thin, long bone that is carved with hieroglyphics and a crystalline bottle. He climbs back up with his pilfered plunder. Lyrian is able to detect magic and confirm that Javi has left nothing magical behind on the body, as Javi starts up again...
Javi reaches the top without incident and spreads out his treasures, relating what he's seen.
Unfortunately, Lyrian is unsure as to what many of these items are. The only one he feels confident on is the last amulet-- or rather, what's inside the last amulet: the aasimar's clever fingers find a catch that opens it, revealing an extraordinarily tiny 'book' which falls out into his hand. Formed of extraordinarily thin sheets of papyrus pressed between a binding of beaten copper, the 'book' is no more than an inch long, and less-than-that wide. There is writing inside it, but it is too small be to read with the naked eye.
However, after the book, a small circle of concave crystal fell into Lyrian's hand as well, rimmed with a thin gold band-- and this is the source of the magic that Lyrian detected. Lyrian identifies the lens as one half of a pair of a goggles of minute seeing, just as effective on its own as with its partner lens.
Mulling it over for a few moments, Heldar decides they should change their approach - "Perhaps if the undead creature that attacked us has left the room she took up residence in, it is now safe to take a further look - maybe we can find additional clues as to what lies in this sarcophagus, so we can make a more educated decision"
He then turns to Rosalia - "How are you feeling my friend? We need your strength and magic" - he urges her with a smile - "Lets walk it off?" - the oracle adds, hoping that if they move around for a while, Rosalia will recover her wits.
"Smart, do you know what is in the sarcophagus?" - Heldar questions with a wink.
Lyrian cautiously applies the lens of minute seeing and reads the tiny book, expecting the worst.
Idly keeping an eye on Lyrian as he reads Ankana’s tiny book, Javi responds to Heldar. ”I’ve brought up everything from Ankana’s chambers below.” He shrugs, ”It’s either open the sarcophagus or move on.”
He considers their situation and objectives. ”Whatever rules this room … whether its the pharaoh or the Stranger, it can control our minds. I don’t take that lightly. I vote we do the proper thief-ly thing and take what we’ve gotten from this room and continue exploring. If the Sarcophagus is worth opening, it may be worth opening when we’ve had a bit of a chance to recover from the fights so far. As much as I don’t like leaving an unknown at our backs, I also don’t like having my mind scrambled and killing my friends when we have other options to explore.”
Mulling it over for a few moments, Heldar decides they should change their approach - "Perhaps if the undead creature that attacked us has left the room she took up residence in, it is now safe to take a further look - maybe we can find additional clues as to what lies in this sarcophagus, so we can make a more educated decision."
Lyrian starts examining the super-tiny book.... He quickly recognizes it as a wizard's spellbook. There are a lot of spells inside the book, it appears. However.... there's also a rune of Ankana's personal cartouche. Happy birthday to you?
Lancing pain stabs at Lyrian's temples for a second as the circled rune swims in his vision. Does Lyrian wish to keep reading the spellbook to learn what spells are contained within it?
There is nothing but silence to Heldar's question of the empty air. Come to think of it, you guys haven't heard Smart for a while now.
Does Lyrian wish to keep reading the spellbook to learn what spells are contained within it?
Sure. He's got nothing to lose now!
...
Well, if Heldar and Lyrian and for and Javi is against, I think that's a majority unless Javi is just wildly upset about it.
Lyrian keeps reading... it's circled runes! Nothing but circled runes!
Nah, just f+~*in' with you. It is indeed a spellbook: Lyrian can, with read magic, ascertain in a few minutes time that it contains the following spells:
0- all cantrips except those of illusion and enchantment schools;
1- alarm, comprehend languages, grease, protection from chaos, mage armor, magic missile, ray of enfeeblement, rope trick, shield, unseen servant;
2- acid arrow, arcane lock, bull's strength, eagle's splendor, glitterdust, false life, fog cloud, resist energy, scorching ray, see invisibility, summon monster ii, web;
3- dispel magic, gentle repose, fly, haste, lightning bolt, phantom steed, stinking cloud, summon monster iii, tiny hut;
4- black tentacles, enervation, stone shape, summon monster iv
Almost enough to make one wish one was a wizard.
Shaggar sits down on the divan while Lyrian is reading the spell book, and sharpens his greataxe thoughtfully, glancing occasionally to Javi, but watching the sarcophagus grimly.
Again Heldar kneels close to Rosalia - "It is time to remember who you are" - he begins down a probably dangerous path - "I have walked side by side with you for some time now, and have come to understand more about you, your pride, and how you carry yourself - you are independent, and a free spirit who is not afraid to speak her mind" - the oracle is not smiling as he usually does - "Will you let yourself be bent by whatever will is pressing against your own? You are stronger than that. If you would not allow US to impose on your own free mind, why would you allow it from whatever force is trying to do so?" - he enforces in stronger words - "Snap out of it Rosalia! We need you now - find yourself, and find us here, waiting for you!"
He then stands there - staring hard at the woman.
Javi abandons his sentry position to try to be ready for whatever might come out of the sarcophagus. With a mimimum of grousing about stupid, idiotic, brainless ideas, he finds a spot to hide near the egg ... ready to pounce on whatever makes itself known.
Rosalia flinches at Heldar's quiet, determined words. For a few seconds she is silent, breathing shallowly in the cold crypt air, then she shakes her head. "I can't," she says, barely audible. "I can't, I can't, if you untie me he might get in my head again..."
Staring fearfully at the open doorway that leads back to the obsidian room, Rosalia scoots away on the floor until she backs up against a wall. Rook follows her, mewing softly.
Shaggar watches all this, then shrugs and looks back to the sarcophagus. "Let's do this, then." He pauses, adjusting his grip on his axe. "Wish I had Hatyah here," he grunts, but mutters the words of a spell.
Heldar casts his various protective spells, presumably having bought his platinum rings back in Absalom or somewhere along the journey to be able to cast Shield Other. Javi takes up a position next to the egg, and Shaggar readies to actually open the sarcophagus.
"Ready?" Shaggar growls, and when everyone assents, he seizes a corner of the lid, and wrenches it open.
It falls forward onto the stone floor with a loud, dull CRACK noise that doesn't travel far in the still tomb air. You find yourselves looking at... the Pharaoh of Numbers.
He is a dessicated corpse, but the job of his embalming was well done: after all this time you can still see the hawkish nose, high cheekbones, a fringe of grey hair and an expressive if serious mouth. He does not look to have been a young man-- perhaps in his fifties or sixties, when he died, though you know that the pharaohs ruled for nearly ninety years. His body is dressed with almost startling simplicity-- the funeral wrappings are plain, and you see no jewelry or elaborate cosmetics.
The only thing that is unusual about this dead body is that every bit of skin you can see is marked with very fine, tattooed hieroglyphics. A quick glance reveals them to be numbers-- mathematical equations.
The body does not move or stir.
Rosalia makes a faint keening noise from where she is curled against the wall, and rocks a little back and forth.
Shaggar grunts, throwing a quick glance at Rosalia and then back at the body. "...I was expecting a bit more," he says drily.
Lyrian, wise man that he is, pokes the mummy with a lock probe.
Like any good Pathfinder, Lyrian pokes the corpse. The head bobbles unsteadily, creaks forward-- hangs a second-- then pops loose of the spine and falls to go CRUNCH on the green marble at everyone's feet. It appears to have been as brittle and dehydrated as it is possible to be, for as it hits, it crumbles apart into charcoal-colored dust.
Barely a few seconds later, the rest of the body starts to do the same, literally falling apart in a traveling wave of fragility that goes from neck down. The fine flakes of formerly-preserved flesh fall into a loose, drifting pile on the floor, tattered fragments of linen floating in the still air a second or two.
Shaggar looks down at the corpse-dust that has spilled over his toe-claws. "For the record, you're the one who broke the body," he rumbles.
Before Lyrian can answer, there's a voice. Dry, rasping, speaking in the ancient form of Osiriani... little more than a whisper. It is hard to tell precisely where it is coming from.
Is it time? Is it time yet?
"It's moving!" Shaggar snarls, and lifts his axe.
Javi, you're up!
Javi slashes out reflexively, targeting the biggest clump of …. whatever this thing is forming into … in the hopes of hitting something sensitive.
The fingerbone in Javi's belt pouch crumbles into dust.... but the intervention of fate doesn't help him, alas.
The smoky body coheres. It briefly resembles a man, although an outsized one-- the tall, rail-thin form stands taller than Shaggar, and its arms seem grotesquely long-- clutching wings, like in depictions of Isis. But the form seems to be made, not of flesh, but of tiny hieroglyphics, layered on top of one another so tightly as to create a semi-solid form of blackness. Burning points of red-gold light mark where you might expect eyes.
IT IS NOT YET TIME... YOU HAVE WOKEN ME EARLY... HOW DARE YOU?
The form has no sooner cohered into a man-like shape than it disperses once again, into a smoky cloud of the scattered hieroglyphics. The cloud flows over and around Heldar-- tiny particulate shapes swarming his face, mouth, and nose.
"What's it doing?!" Shaggar snarls.
Heldar would answer, but his startled inhale has streams of the 'smoke' flowing inside his nose, down his throat.... into his lungs. A second later, he feels excruciating pain inside his body.... as if the inhaled particles had congealed once more, and started slicing at his intestines with razor sharp claws.
Shaggar growls and steps hurriedly around Lyrian to come up on the other side of the creature and swing at the hazy, smoky outline with his axe.
Sparks hiss and burn as Shaggar's enchanted axe sings through the smoke, cutting a ragged trail through the cloud of hieroglyphics.
Lyrian sings a low chant, calling upon the ancient blood of Celestials that flows through his veins, rapidly increasing in tempo until he is singing almost impossibly fast. With a gesture, he projects that sound outward towards his companions.