"That's a good call. Though I'd suggest we be ready to high-tail it out of town either way. Only problem is that I don't have anything for desert travel, if we go the direct route. And we don't have a ship if we want to go down-river."
"Plus," he says as he taps lightly on his backpack, "I'm not really kitted out for a tomb-raid. Holy water... stuff like that. Though I guess we could do that quickly enough on our way out."
Javi, you saunter closer in the dusty street, slipping around behind an ox-cart that is slowly carrying a load of wood down the street towards one of other villas, using it as cover to disguise your approach. Sneaky little halfling!
For someone of your skills, it's child's play to slip behind the oblivious servant, who is surreptitiously gawking at the sight of a gnoll, a couple of northerners, and a copper-skinned man strolling down the street. You deftly open the lid of the basket he is carrying, filch some leaf-wrapped hunks of mutton, and just as deftly slip in a little something in return to the basket.
You have acquired inventory item: meat! And the party has acquired inventory item: a plan, or something like it!
The two guards are making a lazy way down the street-- the first was reluctant to leave his flirtation with the servant woman at the gate-- but they are clearly ambling in the party's general direction, even though they are a good two hundred feet away right now.
Executing your plan right now, or planning to return under cover of darkness?
You have acquired inventory item: meat! And the party has acquired inventory item: a plan, or something like it!
Javi slips back just in time to see the oncoming guards, and he quickly adjusts his behavior and stance. From a casual inspection you'd think he just happened to be by the group of pathfinders instead of actually a part of their group.
Looking down at his shoe where he works to clear off some fake horse crap, he mutters to the group, "Heldar, why don't you see if you can come up with some reason why a foreigner would be gawking around here.. hold those guards up just long enough for us to get around behind the wall. Lyrian? Shaggar? You two coming? If we get separated, we'll meet where Lyrian suggested."
Without waiting for a response, he tosses down the rock he was using as a shoe-scraper, cursing softly about snot-nosed, spoiled nobleman's kids and their over-fed horses as he makes his way after the trundling food cart.
Once he breaks line of sight with the guards, he cuts a stealthy path towards the side of the Crook-Bearer's walls, keeping his eyes open for prying eyes or the easiest path over the wall.
Then he finds a place to hide and wait for Lyrian and Shaggar.
The gnoll promptly sidesteps out of the street and blends perfectly into the mottled shadows thrown across wall and gnarled desert vegetation.
Knowing her master's mind, the hyena slides away across the street to hunker down beneath spiky plants and watch for anyone approaching the infiltrators from down the streets he can't see. Only her dappled nose emerges from the bush.
Lyrian grins and follows his fellows into the shadows, disappearing altogether as he whispers the words to invisibility and expeditious retreat.
"Let's go," says the impatient archaeologist, heading over the wall as he speaks.
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Rosalia this far has been relatively quiet, sans the huffing and puffing as she quickly heats up in the god-awful scorching rays of the desert sun. She's thus quite amenable to the plan being concocted here. "I'll stay with Heldar," she says, "but I will send one thing off with you all..."
Before Lyrian turns invisible, Rosalia picks out Rook from her backpack (much to the then-sleeping cat's displeasure) and sets him beside the bard. Rook yawns widely, his tail flicking as his mistress explains her plan. "Rook and I share a rudimentary link - general feelings, for the most part. But that should be enough to alert Heldar and I if anything particularly bad happens. So you follow them, okay, Rook?"
You still owe me that fish, the cat reminds her before skulking off after the others. He's as silent as death as he deftly makes his way up onto the wall of the suite.
Meanwhile, Rosalia decides to make a distraction. Tugging Heldar a little down the street away from their infiltration point, she begins to complain quite loudly in a tone of voice borrowed from her youth... that of the rich noblewoman speaking to her henpecked husband.
"Look at what you've done now," she sniffs indignantly. "You said you knew a shortcut! Now we've been stuck out here in the sun for so long, and, ugh! Look at my skin! Goodness, I'll be a laughing stock back home like this."
"Dear, I'll ask again--are you sure this is where we're supposed to be?"
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"Now, now darling..." - Heldar begins, taking the cue from Rosalia - "Didn't we agree we wanted to do some sightseeing? Well... We're doing it right now" - he smiles broadly.
"And this is the most pleasant time of day - The heat has subsided, and we have the opportunity to walk alone, away from all the servants and whatnot - isn't it... Romantic?"
Javi jumps slightly at Lyrian's disembodied voice beside him. "Sheesh. You should warn a guy." He grins down at Rook as he regains his composure, "I suppose you'll want a lift, huh, Rook?" he opens his pack to see if the cat wants to ride.
Either way, he doesn't waste any time, looking for the quickest path up to the lip of the wall that will allow him to preserve his stealth.
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The two city guardsman come closer to Heldar and Rosalia, both of them looking around in bemusement as if expecting more people than just the two of them.
"--no, I swear I saw a gnoll, he was huge--"
"You took me away from talking with Neti for this?"
"I tell you, there was a gnoll! And a jackal! And another man standing here!"
The guards raise their voices, and switch to somewhat-broken Taldane, as they come within thirty feet of Heldar and Rosalia. (Unlike the guards posted to the Malhitu Bazaar, where Taldane is the frequently-used language of trade, these two are not entirely fluent in the so-called 'common' tongue.)
"Ho-a, visitors! You are lost, maybe? This is only homes of big people on this street. What is it you are trying to go?"
The guard who claimed to have seen the gnoll is more suspicious, watching Heldar and Rosalia warily while his more affable colleague speaks.
Alas, you are just too glib-voiced for him to get anything concrete...
***
Shaggar, Javi, and an invisible Lyrian make their way to the eastern side of the estate, skirting the wall using the carefully-cultivated and watered shrubs for thin cover.
Shaggar offers Javi a boost-- he can lift the halfling one-handed to the top of the wall, more or less-- and Javi takes a moment to scan the grounds. From this side of the estate, it's no more than thirty feet to the gleaming wall of the ankh-shaped building-- which conveniently blocks a direct line of sight to the house. As long as you don't dally and risk someone on the street seeing you against the pale dun stone of the wall, it should be child's play to make it from wall to the ankh-building unseen. As for getting to the top of the ankh-building, there is nothing on this side that would make it easier to climb the top of the smooth walls-- they look very slick and polished.
The dogs are lounged in the shade of the manor house, which is a good two hundred feet away from your current location or more. There is no wind-- the air is still and hot right now-- so the dogs pose no great threat at the moment. Rook doesn't think much of them, especially not from the safety of Javi's pack.
Shaggar, after you have assisted your colleagues over, are you staying here, or going after them?
Javi hits the ground, tucks, and rolls to his feet with the efficient agility of thieves and acrobats. He takes a moment to make sure the coast is clear, then reaches back to rummage through his backpack.
His dark eyes widen in surprise when his hand runs into a warm, wiry, hairy body in his pack. "Sorry, there, Rook. Not used to working with a partner." He works around the cat to fish out his grappling hook and rope. "Pardon the reach."
As he eyeballs the distance to the closest lip on the roofline, he whispers, "Hey, Pathfinder. That's a nice trick, but it sure doesn't make it easier to coordinate with you."
Javi spins it a few times before tossing it up.
; minus distance mods
"Maybe," replies Lyrian. "But it's great for not getting caught. I'm three feet to your left."
Lyrian follows Javi up the rope, also keeping his eyes open for danger.
Much as he'd like to leap the wall and join the thieves at play, Shaggar holds his position, keeping his ears open in case he is needed. The gnoll's mottled coloring helps him blend into the dappled shade cast by the plants against the dun wall. He hunkers down, hoping that if anyone spies him, he appears to be 'loafing'.
Javi spins the grappling hook in a practiced circle above his head, launches it over the edge of the rooftop above, and tugs a few times to be sure it will hold his weight... and Lyrian's too, for that matter. Satisfied, he quickly begins to scale the knotted rope, which is just as good as a ladder for anyone used to using one, and in barely ten seconds' time he's at the top. Lyrian is only a handful more of seconds behind him -- although it's an odd sight, to see the rope jerking and twitching with the weight of an invisible climber.
From atop the ankh-building, you are relatively safe from the eyes of people on the street-- the ceiling is two stories up, and as long as you don't stand on the edge of the building and wave at people on the street, they are unlikely to see you.
The house, on the other hand, has a second story as well. In theory, if someone three hundred feet away in the house were to look your direction, they might be able to see the very tiny form of a very tiny halfling, as there's not much in the way of cover or concealment on the ankh-building's flat rooftop. So it's good that Javi is trying to move as little as possible, to avoid drawing eyes.
From atop the ankh-building, you can plainly see the skylight-- it's a fifteen-foot circle of what looks to be glass panels, with a lattice of brass strips to support them and hold them in place. The panels are roughly five feet each in size, although they don't look to be more than an inch thick. It does not look as though the skylight was designed to be opened-- the panels have probably been in their current position for years, and there are no hinges or locks. The brass strips appear to be screwed into the black marble of the building itself. Sand has built up in some of the minute crevices between glass and brass.
However, you can both quite easily see down through said glass. The round room beneath you has a pedestal directly below the skylight; the Osirion sun beats down through the window and shines on the pedestal and the gleaming golden mask placed atop it, twenty feet below you.
Javi doesn't see any traps as he looks through the glass.
Additionally, there are cabinets and display cases ringing the entire room, with other treasures and artifacts on display.
***
Elsewhere, Shaggar hunches down to wait. And be a gnoll-loaf.
***
Elsewhere, the guardsmen blink expectantly at Heldar and Rosalia.
***
Elsewhere, Hatyah finds a lizard sunning itself on the stone, and snaps it up in one quick bite.
Once Lyrian’s disembodied voice seems to be up on the roof, Javi pulls up the rope, stowing it once again in his pack (with yet another beg-yer-pardon to his feline passenger).
Javi hunkers down against the bulk of the ankh building, seeking to use any available bulge or bump in its architecture to shield himself from anyone on the second floor of the main house.
He takes a few moments to inspect the screws, the glass, and the brass fittings.
As he looks for discrete ways of bypassing the skylight, he can’t help but take a peek at what’s below them. He lets out a low whistle at the mask, muttering to the Pathfinder thief. ”The real mask isn’t half-bad looking. And from this distance, the fake is a decent replica.” Something about what he just said makes him pause, and he looks over at where he thinks Lyrian is positioned. ”You made yourself disappear. Can you also tell if that mask is magical? If I’m this guy. And if this thing is important to me. And if I’m paranoid, that could be another fake or an illusion. I’d love to try to see if we can determine if it’s real before we do anything un-doable to this glass skylight.”
Lyrian grins an unseen smile and casts three spells in quick succession: detect magic, sift and [/i]aram zey's focus.[/i] He then examines both the skylight itself, the area below it and the mask.
Heldar bows shortly to the guardsman - "Well met officer, you are correct sir - We are indeed visitors to this fine city. You see... We were told that the Malhitu Bazaar is most definitely the place to be, at any time of day and night - my wife here is intent on purchasing some of the local... Oddities and craftwork" - Heldar gives Rosalia his best loving smile.
"Hence, that would be where we are heading - according to the informations provided to us by a fine young man, crossing through this part of town would be a possible way to get there, while also appreciating the beautiful architecture of the noble houses - indeed the young man was correct, as the estates around the area are absolutely astounding" - he turns to look around at the many rich houses, then back to Rosalia - "You see my dear, those were indeed five gold pieces well spent for the information" - he smiles again.
"It seems that my lotus flower is however getting impatient, and perhaps a tad tired though - the heat was somewhat overwhelming during the day - but still I could not help but stop and wonder" - he looks back at the guard - "Are all the homesteads in this... Huh... District, as breathtaking? This one here for example" - he points to the one they are assigned to - "Who does it belong to? Certainly a noble man or woman of Sothis. Am I correct?"
While Javi ponders methods of either unscrewing the brass strips, prying them open to free the glass panels, or just plain cutting the glass, his invisible colleague mutters words of spells beneath his breath. The first cantrip, to detect the presence of magic... promptly nearly gives Lyrian a headache, as various glows light up in his field of vision, kind of like a Christmas tree, except Lyrian does not know what a Christmas tree is.
Oh yeah, there's magic.
Of the four distinct magical auras Lyrian can detect in the room below, only one of them becomes clear to him with study-- the display pedestal directly below the two would-be thieves seems to have an Arcane Lock buried somewhere in its midst. However, there are several other auras present in the room below:
-Surrounding the pedestal at a ten-foot radius is an abjuration aura ;
-Several points in this room have some sort of conjuration magic attached to them-- each of these points is on the ceiling, and Lyrian can just glimpse a similar aura at other points down the hallway ;
-The mask itself seems to glow with a strong transmutation aura.
Lyrian's eyes are very keen! But he sees nothing that clearly registers to him as a trap-- the magical auras might well signify some sort of danger, but he is unable to identify exactly what form that danger might take, beyond educated guesses based on their associated auras.
...nope
The smiling guard winces a bit at the idea that the tourist has paid five gold for such rotten directions. The other guard is still looking around trying to see where his imaginary gnoll went.
"Ah, yes, well, sir, I am afraid that sir is perhaps being the misled, yes? The Bazaar is a place of many wonder, but it is in the direction other, sir. I am afraid this is only being homes...
"Eh? Oh, this is the home of Master Sem-Thet, sir. Very rich man, Master Sem-Thet. But please, let me give correct instruction to return to the Bazaar for you and your wife? It is being too hot out here, for you."
Javi pulls a few tools from the toolkit hidden in his shoe, testing the nearest few screws as the Pathfinder does his arcane search. "If these screws won't budge, I have a glass-cutter, though no way of keeping the glass from falling into the building."
Lyrian explains what he has seen. "My guess is that the pedestal either has some sort of anti-scrying magic on it, or more likely, an alarm. I'm not sure why the arcane lock. The conjurations could be anything, from actual summoning spells to something like a web spell. We'll have to be careful in eliminating them. I'm concerned that they're on the ceiling. Probably to make them difficult for a non-magical intruder to discover, but it implies that if they're a trap...and they surely are... they're set off at range. They'll be devilishly hard to disarm."
Javi sets to work, quick and carefully: he blows accumulated sand and grit off the brass strips, clearing a space for himself to work, and busts out the fine tools of his trade on the screws. At first, he makes no progress-- the screws seem very tightly bolted in-- but his kit also contains a tiny tube of grease. He squeezes a dollop onto the screws to help loosen them, and is rewarded by tiny, fractional turns of the screw head. It takes one minute for him to unscrew enough of the strips to be able to freely move one of the unwieldy five-foot glass panes.
He'll want to be careful as he handles the glass-- it's essentially a window that's almost twice as long (and wide) as he is tall. Lyrian giving him a hand will reduce the odds of it slipping out of his grip... and, of course, there's the odds of moving a 5-foot square, highly reflective surface-- you want to be very careful you don't accidentally angle a flash of sunlight towards the house.
The glass panel is fully an inch thick, and weighs an easy 25 pounds. Move it carefully!
Lyrian assists Javi in both operations.
Like bosses. Javi and Lyrian work in perfect concert, managing to keep a firm grip on the piece of glass (if anyone were there to see, it would look very odd to see Javi manhandling the glass apparently by himself, holding only one end with the other floating free in space), and also managing to keep the big window-pane from flashing light anywhere problematic.
They set the glass down carefully on the roof. There is now a 5x5 hole in said roof, and the mask is apparently almost directly below them... but Lyrian's warnings seem like sensible words of wisdom.
How now, brown cow?
"Okay," says Lyrian to Javi. "I think the play is for me to lower you down on a rope. You grab the mask and I haul you back up here. If things go sideways I either haul you up or drop down in with you, as the situation demands. Once you're down there, you need to be very careful of all the magical auras. Some are surely traps. Agreed?"
The smiling guard winces a bit at the idea that the tourist has paid five gold for such rotten directions. The other guard is still looking around trying to see where his imaginary gnoll went."Ah, yes, well, sir, I am afraid that sir is perhaps being the misled, yes? The Bazaar is a place of many wonder, but it is in the direction other, sir. I am afraid this is only being homes...
"Eh? Oh, this is the home of Master Sem-Thet, sir. Very rich man, Master Sem-Thet. But please, let me give correct instruction to return to the Bazaar for you and your wife? It is being too hot out here, for you."
"Yes, yes, of course..." - Heldar smiles while watching the house - "A shame they don't allow visitors, I would love to see it from the inside - did you say Master Sam-Thaite? He does not allow tours now does he? Of course not..." - he looks inquisitively at the man.
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Outside the estate
...and yet, your glib tongue continues to give him no proof that you are anything but an oblivious tourist!
The skinnier of the two guards continues to frown throughout the conversation, but he's still looking around on the street for the gnoll and hyena he swears he saw. The more-prosperous-around-the-belly-region guard keeps up his smile for Heldar and Rosalia, even as he gives a slightly incredulous chuckle at the outlander's question.
"Allow tours? Ha ha, no sir, no, it is his private home, yes? Not the museum. Sem-Thet, sir. Now, please be attending; you must return to the mouth of this street, the bigger street that meets it is Way of Cobra, and you must follow the Cobra back until you come onto the Plaza of the Scarab, where you will take the eastern road..."
Meanwhile, far from the educational directions...
Smooth Criminals
Shaggar... lurks. His fur blends in with the dusty brick of the wall, and he is patiently motionless behind the spiny brambles of one of the native desert bushes. Casual eyes slide right over him.
Up on the rooftop, Javi and Lyrian are assessing the entrance, working quickly as two minutes have now elapsed. The halfling sticks his head down into the building, trying to pick out the places on the ceiling that Lyrian has indicated are radiating enchantments, now that he knows exactly where to look.
Lyrian's guidance in picking out the magical auras means that this time, the halfling's keen eyes know exactly where to focus.
"Ha! Okay, I can see a little sort-of... blurring there, whatever magic he's got rigged gives a little shimmer, like a heat mirage. Real faint, but yeah... I'd bet they're keyed to things passing on the floor beneath. Let's hope our route avoids 'em."
It's a matter of only a few seconds for Javi to rope up and pass the other end to Lyrian. The tiny thief clings to the edge of the skylight gap for a moment, giving the invisible Lyrian a wry grin.
"You know, I don't usually trust people I've known for two hours with the other end of the rope, so to speak. And usually I also like to see them!" he says, and then lets go.
Lyrian has his heels well-braced against the brass frames of the skylight panels. He takes Javi's weight-- the halfling himself likely weighs no more than thirty pounds, but there's his gear, and dead weight is dead weight regardless.
Foot-by-careful-foot the copper-skinned man lowers the tiny thief. It's Mission: Impossible in Sothis...
Javi can't see the lines of magical force that indicate the auras Lyrian had detected. Ten feet down into the building, he hangs in space a moment, while the playwright looks over the edge down at him.
"I could try and grapple one of these other shelves or something," Javi murmurs, "pull myself towards it, and land on the floor rather than come straight down into that aura..."
Lyrian informs him that, unfortunately, the aura extends on the ground as well, ten feet out from the center pedestal in all directions.
Javi shrugs. "Welp. Be ready to pull me out fast, then, heh."
Another few feet of rope feed out. Javi is now within the abjuration aura that Lyrian had noticed. Nothing seems to happen. Javi's feet touch the pedestal and he eases into a crouch by the golden mask. The halfling exhales, keeping a wary eye on the ceiling and the unknown magic that waits above.
But there's no time to waste. Javi quickly looks over the mask at close range, before he lays a finger on it.
"Mask itself doesn't look trapped," he whispers up to Lyrian. "But I think I found that Arcane Lock you were talking about-- the mask has a chain, and the chain's locked to this display pedestal."
Javi's hands are working as he speaks-- grabbing his tools from the secret compartment in his boot, getting ready to try and pick the lock.
As Javi recovers his tools, he double-checks to make sure the fake mask is ready to be swapped with the real one… the swap will need to happen quickly and efficiently, with the goal being to at least make the fake mask look like it’s still locked in via the chain with a passing inspection. Let me know if you need anything else from me for now. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post again today, but I should be back to a normal-ish posting schedule tomorrow.[/ooc]
Lyrian maintains his detect magic, but allows Javi the honor of descending, disarming and swapping out the masks.
Javi has a plan in place: unlock the chain, take the real mask, pop in the fake, and then up, up, and away!
He has his tools in hand. Lyrian watches, invisibly, with his senses tuned to the magical auras in the room.
Lyrian, one of the areas you've already picked out as the source of conjuration magic is sparking in your Detectomagic vision. Arcane energies seem to be drawing together there...
Javi, the mask has a strap of golden silk which is probably designed to go over the back of the wearer's head, and help hold it in place. It is this that is in turn chained to the pedestal, by a thin golden chain with an ornate, expensive-looking lock.
Unaware of the activated energies above him, Javi sets to work. He brings the Neversword’s skeleton key to bear on the lock, grinning widely as the key works its magic. ”You’re a useful friend to have, Nevergourd.”
Javi scowls and grumbles as the skeleton key effectively does nothing. "Or not..."
He goes to work with his usual tools, feeling much more confident with the familiar instruments.
Javi inserts the key, grinning to himself-- this'll be good, he figures-- only to find it won't turn so much as a hair. Whaaaat? Neversword is not a useful friend after all, it seems.
Hurriedly, he switches to the tools in his other hand, and this time he has tumblers twitching and clicking inside the small golden lock... and yet, he feels that it's not-- quite-- coming.
"Something's happening with the wards," Lyrian hisses. "My guess is you're about to have company. Hurry!"
Lyrian stands and braces the rope around his waist, ready to drag the halfling up as soon as he has the mask free.
Outside the estate
...and yet, your glib tongue continues to give him no proof that you are anything but an oblivious tourist!
The skinnier of the two guards continues to frown throughout the conversation, but he's still looking around on the street for the gnoll and hyena he swears he saw. The more-prosperous-around-the-belly-region guard keeps up his smile for Heldar and Rosalia, even as he gives a slightly incredulous chuckle at the outlander's question.
"Allow tours? Ha ha, no sir, no, it is his private home, yes? Not the museum. Sem-Thet, sir. Now, please be attending; you must return to the mouth of this street, the bigger street that meets it is Way of Cobra, and you must follow the Cobra back until you come onto the Plaza of the Scarab, where you will take the eastern road..."
Heldar listens closely to the man's explanation regarding the path to follow - Where the heck are they? - he ponders more than once as time slips by.
Without any more cards to play, and aware that he is really pushing his luck, he decides for a final change of tactics, trying to delay the "farewell" to the guards - "Thank you for all your kindness friends" - he reaches into his pouch and produces a gold coin - "Here for your efforts, and for a well deserved drink when you are off duty"
At Lyrian's urgent warning, Javi darts a quick look upwards... and sees a ghostly form coalescing out of the black marble of the building's ceiling. In a matter of seconds, an ethereal scorpion the size of a man has formed, clinging to the ceiling as no real scorpion could do. The ghost-creature drops to the floor in utter silence, and the blue-white, transparent outline of its wicked tail stabs out at Javi.
It's some combination of things that save Javi, perhaps-- Lyrian's hissed warning, his own preternatural reflexes, the fact that he really doesn't want to know what happens if a spectral man-sized scorpion stings him and so he's trying really hard to dodge it-- but either way, the sting lashes out harmlessly and utterly silently into the space above his head.
It's almost too quick to be believed, because even as Javi is registering that he managed to dodge the barbed tail, it starts fading away, withering into thin shreds of smoke. In another second, there's nothing there to show it was ever there at all, save for the pound of Javi's small-but-mighty heart.
Rosalia and Heldar can see the same through the front gate, as they continue to try to buy time for their colleagues to execute their sneaky endeavor-- a door of the manor house has opened, and what looks to be a tall Osiriani man in fine clothing, as well as an armed servant, are exiting the front door.
The amiable guard's eyes widen at the sight of the gold coin, and he offers a huge smile to the dumb but generous outlander as he snags it. "Ah, very kind, sir, very kind, I am happy to give you any other direction you will be needing, do you like a guide around town? My sister's son will--"
"Shut up!" says the wiry guard in Osiriani to his collegue, jabbing him in the rib with his elbow. It seems he too has spotted what Heldar and Rosalia saw, and is looking towards the manor house with one hand shading his eyes.
Javi spits out an inventive string of halfling curses, dark eyes darting around the room for any more ceiling-bound ghost scorpions. His fingers deftly work of their own accord, giving one more last-chance attempt at the lock with the Neversword’s skeleton key.
They make damn locks good in Osirion, what can we say? And, well, Arcane Lock helps. The key turns a quarter-inch in the small lock, almost twitching in Javi's hand as its own enchantments try to bolster Javi's skill-- nothing doing, alas. (So not only is Neversword useless, his key seems to be too.)
Too conscious of elapsing time, Javi whips out his scimitar and severs the silk with a swift slash of steel.
In Lyrian's trippy magic-radar vision, there's a flash around the mask when Javi slices the silk, and a sudden ripple that radiates out from it like that from a stone thrown into a pond. The shimmering magic snaps out like a whip, crackling out and consolidating into.... people?
Both Javi and Lyrian can see...
a EIGHT men appear... completely surrounding Javi and the pedestal.
They are dressed in white linen and simple armor, each holding a spear. They look around with a quick blink, then one of them stands to attention and flashes Javi a salute.
"How am I to serve, O master?" he says in crisp, ancient Osirani. Lyrian can understand him perfectly, of course, and Javi can probably get the gist of his gesture, if not his exact wording.
Well, that was interesting.
Javi has a mask. There's eight Osiriani soldiers in the room who weren't there before. Lyrian, are you pulling?
Oh, and Lyrian sees the next closest ceiling-trap start to activate, too.
Rosalia continues to act sullen but remains relatively quiet, trusting in Heldar's slippery tongue to get them through this more than her own. And she could manage surliness and pouty duckfaces more than continuing their charade. It did, at least, leave her the opportunity to keep an eye out for anything going on around them. Spotting the approaching Osiriani man and his entourage, she subtly jabs Heldar in the ribs with her elbow and nods towards them.
"If we're going, we'd best hurry up, then," she says with a light sigh. "My poor little kitten back home must be in a terrible state with us home so late. We've missed his afternoon tea!"
Rook, meanwhile, is busy hissing at the eight Osiriani men. Although he knows a little bit more about them than the others do, thanks to him staying up late reading his mistress' books on magic. Too bad nobody here speaks feline, though.
Heldar is not sure of what to make of the whole situation - the activity seems to mean that something wrong may be going on inside, but it is also possible that all this bustle is due to some other reason.
He takes the cue from Rosalia though - "Very well dear... I had completely forgotten about our dearest pet - Let us get moving along then" - he begins walking towards the exact same direction of the ingress point his companions have taken to enter the property.
As they move away, he addresses Rosalia in a whispered tone - "What is going on? Are they in danger? Should we just try to burst through the front door? Maybe they need us in there" - his eyes darting back and forth, frustrated at not being able to reach his companions - "I am not an expert climber - actually far from it, but maybe we should also try and go over the wall also? I cannot accept that they may be in danger, while we do nothing out here"
Yep, Lyrian is hauling Javi up and out through the skylight like a hooked trout.
Lyrian starts haulin', attempting to quickly reel in Javi the Fish-wasp!
...and is stronger than his lanky frame would suggest. Javi, you can't see his hands, because they're invisible, but they're moving really fast as Lyrian hand-over-hands the rope up, hefting Javi's weight into the air with the mask clutched in his fist.
The eight faces of the Osiriani guardsmen turn in perfect synchronization to follow Javi ascending into the air.
A few seconds later, a second spectral scorpion emerges from the black marble of the ceiling, drops to the ground, and attacks one of the eight warriors.
The tall, well-dressed man who has emerged from the manor house is shading his eyes with one hand and peering towards the ankh building. He curtly gestures his servant to follow and begins striding across the manicured grounds towards the ankh building.
He throws a glance towards the gate and the figures outside, but he doesn't see any figures near his precious ankh-building (after all, Lyrian is invisible), so he merely starts walking briskly, instead of running, towards the ankh building.
As Heldar and Rosalia start walking down the street towards the corner that Shaggar and the others had disappeared around, the friendlier guard looks bemused and torn, glancing between his colleague and the two of you. The other guard has approached the front gate and is calling out to the well-dressed man.
Meanwhile, in his broken Taldane, the other guard attempts to intercede with Rosalia and Heldar.
"Erm... my forgiveness I ask, most esteemed generous visitors, but the Way of the Cobra is being the other direction..."
Perhaps it's occurring to him there's something a little funny to him about all of this. But you did give him such a nice gift and you've been nothing but polite and friendly outlanders... he hesitates, seemingly torn.