Seven years ago, Pharaoh Khemet III, the Ruby Prince, formally opened Osirion’s ancient tombs and burial sites to foreign explorers. Khemet III understood that adventurers who’ve traveled great distances in search of treasure typically do not return from whence they came to sell their discoveries. Instead, they typically sell or trade what they do not keep as quickly as possible at the closest civilized community with an economy strong enough to absorb an influx of valuable antiquities. The Ruby Prince’s policy has attracted not only explorers to the desert nation of Osirion, but also countless scholars, private collectors, special interest groups such as the Pathfinder Society, and financial interests from all across the Inner Sea. A minor industry has sprung up just to support visiting explorers, and an even larger infrastructure has come into being to serve foreign investors and traders. Every opening of a major site has heralded an economic boom, for the local area and Osirion as a whole.
Wati, the Half Dead City, where the Asp and Crook Rivers converge to form the River Sphinx in southeastern Osirion has been chosen as the next location for the opening of tombs. Hearing the news of Wati's opening, your party of stolid adventurers has heeded the call and now find yourselves in Wati, among the multitude of other fortune seekers.
With the necropolis opened by royal decree, the priests of the local temple of Pharasma, the Grand Mausoleum, have been tasked with assigning sites ready for exploration to adventuring companies in a lottery.
Already registered at the temple, the four of you wait anxiously for the drawing, to learn what tombs are yours to explore!
The bustling desert city of Wati is near bursting with excitement. Adventurers from every corner of the Inner Sea region have assembled here beneath the hot Osirian sun to explore the tombs of the city’s necropolis, waiting only to be assigned their first sites for exploration. Surrounding the participants, the public has gathered to observe the ceremony as well. There is a festival-like quality in the air, and numerous street vendors are hawking goods and refreshments to participants and spectators alike. Some merchants have even brought what can only be considered adventuring gear to sell as last minute convenience items to explorers, while others advertise that they’ll buy recovered treasures and antiquities from those who visit their establishments.
In front of the imposing edifice of the Grand Mausoleum, an immense awning has been erected between decorated pillars in the market to provide shade for the priests of Pharasma overseeing the lottery. Beneath the awning, two urns sit atop a table elevated a few feet above the ground on a wooden stage constructed for the event. The high priestess of the Grand Mausoleum, Sebti the Crocodile, sits behind the table, while two acolytes confer with her at either side.
"Bah! Hhhhuucckk!" the bespectacled dwarf rudely clears his throat of phlegm and spits it in a nearby plant, narrowly missing a passerby. "Been ready to hear this announcement for a week. You?" he addresses his fellow dwarf companions. Seherab has traveled far with another clan-member and two of their Pahmet friends. "Sick of this waitin' around. Could've read 'bout three books by now. Standin' around in this heat instead. . . we need to get this venture started. Publication and discovery is only worthwhile when it's timely, my friends." Seeing the strange looks at his mention of books and publications, Seherab consoles, "Don't be worryin' about the writing and note-taking, that's my job. But you can all be co-authors. A dwarf needs a company; discoveries aren't made alone!"
Seherab waits in anticipation of the ceremony, straining to look over the heads of the taller folks crowding around the Grand Mausoleum.
Teos nods quietly in agreement with the honorable Seherab. In his light, loose desert garb he does not appear particularly bothered by the heat. He scans the crowd, looking curiously at the competition.
"Patience my brother. All will happen in good time."
Ankhef fumbles around in his bag and eventually retrieves 4 oranges, one for himself and one for each of his companions.
Seherab accepts the orange with a nod. "Aye, aye. Suppose there will be a lot of pomp and circumstance when the announcements are made. Fine by me, I s'pose. This'll be a day to remember, after all. And we've traveled far enough, what's a few more minute's wait, eh?"
Seherab begins to blindly toss orange peals to the side, pelting people as they pass him by.
Teos takes his orange over to nearest street urchin and hands it to the boy (or girl- the layer of grime and his unfamiliarity with humans makes it hard for him to tell) He gives it to the child and pats them on the shoulder, smiling. He returns to his fellows.
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Harkuf takes the orange offered to him with a nod of gratitude and cuts it into quarters. He proceeds to bite into each quarter and suck the juice from the flesh - spitting the rinds to the ground as he does so.
"Yeah, the Croc sure is takin' her sweet time up there, ain't she?" Suddenly, a snake winds itself up Harkuf's leg, around his torso and up along the back of his neck. "Jafar'll need another mouse before long just to keep him docile, won't you?" He takes hold of the snake just below the head and rubs his thumb underneath the snakes jaw.
"Love's when I do this," he murmurs to nobody in particular.
Numerous adventuring groups stand in small clusters near the stage, made up of multiple nationalities and races. Most keep to themselves, but some teams engage in quiet conversation with other teams, mostly speculating about what they’ll likely face in the necropolis.
All at once, a murmur moves through the crowd like a wave. The cuase of the murmur becomes apparent as you notice the high priestess of the Grand Mausoleum, Sebti the Crocodile, rise to her feet and look over the crowd. Sebti seems surprisingly young to hold such a distinguished position, but she has a confident air of authority. After calling for silence, she begins with an invocation to the Lady of Graves, followed by a brief history of the founding of the necropolis.
But Wati’s destiny was forever warped in 2499 AR, when the cult of Lamashtu unleashed the Plague of Madness among the city’s thriving populace. Many of those whom the fever did not immediately kill were driven to murderous insanity, and within months, more than half the city had fallen in painful, anguished death. Most of the survivors fled Wati to make new homes elsewhere, but a stubborn minority remained behind, determined to reclaim their city. But even once the plague had run its course, their livelihoods collapsed as An and Tephu took over Wati’s once exclusive trade routes, and their floundering community struggled against recurring outbreaks of the undead from the city’s many abandoned buildings-turned-tombs.
It took almost half a millennium for Wati’s fortunes to reverse thanks to the church of Pharasma. With the tacit permission of Osirion’s Keleshite sultan, a Pharasmin priest named Nefru Shepses marched on Wati in 2953 ar with a small army of alchemists, masons, and morticians under his banner, intent on consecrating the entire city to the Lady of Graves, beginning with a new, monumental temple to Pharasma called the Grand Mausoleum. Over the next 30 years, Nefru Shepses and his followers recovered the bodies of those slaughtered in the Plague of Madness from their hasty, makeshift graves and the Pharasmins walled off that portion of the city that had been abandoned, transforming it into a metropolis of makeshift tombs. Thousands of corpses were given formal burial rites and reinterred in this dead copy of the living city, which continues to serve as Wati’s necropolis today.
The consecration of the city and its necropolis revitalized Wati, and though it never reclaimed its dominance among the cities of the south, over the next 1,700 years Wati grew until its necropolis—once more than half of the city—took up less than a quarter of the city’s total area. Today, long after the necropolis’s completion, Wati continues to produce a great variety of grave goods for Osirion’s honored dead. A steady stream of burial figures, canopic jars, embalming fluids, prayer books, and sarcophagi sail downstream on the Sphinx, outpacing Wati’s crop and textile exports. Even Wati’s criminal underworld revolves around death, as competing gangs regularly raid the necropolis for valuables and even human carrion.
Finishing her introduction, the high priestess raises her voice abouve the crowd. “Let the lottery begin! Although many of you have requested specific sites to explore, we must leave these matters to fate. The Lady of Graves is a far better judge of destiny than we of this mortal sphere. The gates of the necropolis will open at sunrise tomorrow. Use this evening to prepare yourselves for the task ahead. Let these rules guide you in your endeavors in this holy place: remember how this came to pass, every slave’s hut is a memorial, and honor the departed. May you go with the Lady’s blessing.”
After Sebti returns to her seat, the two acolytes accompanying her each draw a wooden token from one of the urns on the table. The first token identifies the adventuring group, matching the token that a group received when it registered for the lottery. The second token determines which tomb is assigned to that group. A single representative of the chosen group is then summoned to the stage to present the token his group received at registration to one of the acolytes. Once the group’s identity has been confirmed, Sebti shows the representative the location of that group’s first exploration site on a map of the entire necropolis. She also gives the representative a smaller, sketched map that shows the site’s location in relation to the necropolis gates. Once a group has received its assignment, the process repeats with a new group.
Eventually, you hear the name of your group called. The priest wait expectantly for a representative of your group to come forward....
Ankhef Glyphkeeper will calmly and with dignity approach the priest.
Ankhef approaches the makeshift stage and is greeted by Sebti. The acolytes takes the proffered token and compare it against the one drawn from the urn. Nodding to the high priestess, they hand over the hand sketched map and a pamphlet of rules. Sebti nods to the the dwarf, but says nothing. She then points to three spots on the map. "These are you sites. You are expected to explore them in the order listed on your map."
Every Slave’s Hut Is a Memorial: Every structure within the necropolis is a testament to the people who lived and died in the city. Explorers must not desecrate or vandalize standing structures and tombs, but preserve them as the memorials they were intended to be. Some structures may be trapped or decrepit, but willful and unnecessary destruction will not be tolerated.
Honor the Departed: The dead should be treated with dignity and respect. If the interred need to be disturbed to recover an antiquity or relic, they should be returned to their resting places carefully. It is understood that the ancient dead are often brittle, but there is no need for the contents of a sarcophagus to be summarily dumped on the ground. This rule does not apply to the undead or other abominations.
Failure to comply with hese rules can result in, but is not limited to, expulsion from the necropolis, a ban on continued exploration, seizure of recovered valuables, and arrest and prosecution by local authorities.
After receiving you allotment, the party has the evening to make any last minute purchases and make final preparations.
Ankhef will return to his party and share the news, possible over drinks that evening.
"Aye, good job Ankhef. What say we have a mug and talk over our plan? I just need to grab a few things before we go."
Seherab will stop by the market and pick up the following:
This leaves Seherab with 1 sp left. That night he spends 8 cp on two mugs of ale, leaving him with a whopping 2 cp.
Over his mugs of ale, Seherab flips through his formula book. "Thinkin' I'll mix up some concoctions before we head out tomorrow mornin'. Perhaps an identify and comprehend languages would be most helpful. Ankhef here can heal should it come to that." he motions to his fellow clansman.
"Now, I've read a few books on traps and how to disable them before we got here. Though Harkuf and Teos have better eyesight, I be thinkin'" the dwarf taps on his spectacles. "I suppose there's not much to be doin' except to get a good rest and see what awaits us tomorrow mornin'."
Teos nods vigorously in agreement with Seherab. He does a few stretches in the common area, standing on his hands and flexing his short legs in splits. He then quietly sups on bread, beer, dates and onions. Especially onions. The smell clears the table around him quite rapidly.
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Harkuf picks up some last minute supplies, and finds himself with a little more coin left over than he had planned.
"Well, lemme get a few rounds, eh?" He stops a waitress, "A round of dry stout, if ye have any please," he places 9 silver on the waitress' tray. "The good stuff, please."
With the 14 remaining gold, Harkuf will offer to pay for everyone's room.
Ankhef, having spent all his coin on scrolls appreciates the generosity of his companions.
The following morning, the sun rise hot and bright over Osirion. The party rises early and heads out to the necropolis in order to be there when the gates open.
Arriving just as said gates open, the party has little trouble finding the designated tomb, using the map sketch. The first assigned site is an actual tomb that predates the Plague of Madness, located in the city’s original cemetery in the eastern section of the necropolis.
Approaching the site, you see a rectangular stone mausoleum sits alone in what appears to have once been an actual cemetery. The trunks of a few dead trees poke out of the sand around the tomb, and a hot breeze whistles through their desiccated branches. A set of massive stone double doors is affixed to the northern side of the structure, beneath a facade bearing the likeness of an Osirian man. Windblown sand is heaped around the crypt, partially burying the doors that lead within.
Teos squints in the sun.
The monk motions to where the plaster the once sealed the tomb closed, and then starts digging in the sand to clear the doors. Lacking better tools, he simply uses his hands and strength.
I need a shovel. he thinks to himself.
Ankhef turns to Seherab: "What do you make of it brother?"
Seherab takes out his pen and a scratch piece of paper. "This is the tomb of Akhentepi, who lived from 2416 to 2488 AR-which means they died 11 years before the Plague of Madness set in."
"See this?" Seherab points to the cracks around the doors. "It's supposed to swing outward and was originally sealed with mortal, meant to closed permanently. Most of the mortar has crumbled and chipped away. We'll need to move some of this sand before we can open it though."
"I'm wondering-with the chipping of the mortar-if someone has already been through this tomb. . . . "
Seherab nonetheless puts his paper and pen away and begins clearing the sand. He will check the place over for traps before anyone gets too close or before the doors are opened.
(+2 for unusual stonework, +1 for traps)
After close to an hour of digging out sand by hand, the party manages to clear enough space to open the door. Searching the doors, Seherab finds no traps, nor is the door locked or have any handles. Taking the combined strength of all four dwarves, the doors are finally pried apart and pulled open, releasing a waft of musty air. Looking in, the party notices there are no handles on the inside of the door either.
Peering into the room, you see the tomb's antechamber. This rectangular room is empty save for some engravings and fixtures upon the walls, a pair of heavy stone doors to the north, through which you are peering, and an immense stone wheel against the south wall. The air is stale, and a layer of dust and sand covers the floor, lying in a thicker layer to the south. All four walls bear sunk-relief engravings and hieroglyphs, while small stone faces are affixed to the walls at about shoulder height in each corner. The stone wheel to the south is engraved with a large spiral and is set in stone tracks in the floor and ceiling.
Teos looks about the room for defenses left to guard the honorable dead.
He shrugs nonchalantly and waits patiently for the others to complete their study.
Seherab once again takes down a few notes as he looks about the chamber.
(+2 for unusual stonework, +1 for traps)
"Interesting. This is fine work here."
"Perhaps this wheel needs to be turned to move in further?"
Searching the area, Seherab notices pitons driven into the wheel, as if to be used as handles for leverage.
"Yes, I think we will need to turn the wheel to move in."
Teos gestures questioningly, as if to say Should I open it?. Once he gets confirmation (but not before the others indicate to proceed.)
as the symbol of Pharasma, and recognize that two of the carved faces in the room’s corners depict Pharasma. The other two faces depict the likeness of Anubis, the ancient Osirian god of burials and mummification. Closer examination of the faces also reveals them to be decorative
torch holders, such that when torches are placed within them, a corona of flame surrounds the deities’ heads.
Teos attempts to turn the wheel, but is unable to make it budge by himself.
As the dwarf attempts to turn the wheel, everyone notices a large scorpion scuttle into the tomb!
Before Teos turns the wheel, Seherab notes, "A devotee of Pharasma, no doubt." He points out the spiral on the wheel that resembles her holy symbol. "The faces are representations of the Lady of Graves as well. These other two faces bear resemblance with Anubis, the ancient Osirian god of burials and mummification. Fitting."
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Seherab sighs and draws his short sword, stepping in to stab at the scorpion.
"Mostly use it as a letter opener," Seherab explains as his blade hits nothing but the floor.
Seherab stabs at the invertebrate, but misses as it skitters away!
Harkuf catches it mid-skitter and smashes it with his staff, nearly squashing, but the creature continues to move, it's stinger darting back and forth!
"We are not the first creatures to venture down here."
Ankhef will calmly step away, draw his spear and figuring the vermin is of no historical import attempt to stab it.
The dwarf stabs at the scorpion, but misses!
The scorpion attacks the dwarf, but misses!
"Letter Opener, indeed!"
Teos steps over and strikes twice with his calloused fists.
Nonlethal
Seherab misses the quick little arachnid once more, but Teos moves in swinging. His first punches misses, but that only sets up his second blow, which catches the creature in the cephlothorax, stunning it and dropping it into unconsciousness.
"Well done, Teos. Now, about this door. . . let's all push together now. On three!" Seherab stows away Letter Opener and helps open the door.
With all the party straining against the wheel, it eventually begins to turn slowly. It rolls to the side, revealing a five wide opening. Looking inside, you see a square room that is starkly devoid of any markings or adornment. In the center of the chamber’s floor, a square shaft drops straight down into darkness. A faint musty odor rises from the pit. A single piton has been hammered into the stone floor by the northeast corner of the pit, and a dusty length of rope dangles from the piton into the darkness of the shaft.
Teos walks over and looks down the hole. He pulls up the rope and examines it, to see how strong and long it is, and checks the strength of the piton as well.
Teos finds the rope is only five feet long, looking as if it has been cut. It is also thoroughly rotted and crumbles as the dwarf handles it.
Looking down the shaft with our darkvision can we see the bottom?
Teos holds the remains of it up for his companions to see, shaking his head sadly. He pulls his own rope out and ties it off to the piton. He motions with a stubby finger to his chest and then pantomimes climbing.
He will then move over and climb down, assuming it's less then 50' feet.
Looking into the pit, Ankehf sees that it descends about sixty feet. Teos then secures a rope and climbs down.
Mirrored images of a warrior in side profile, facing inward, are carved on an ornate pair of stone doors in the west wall of this square room. The figure is depicted wearing padded armor, with a scarab-shaped shield on the arm facing the viewer, and a raised khopesh held aloft in the other. A crumpled humanoid body lies directly in front of the doors. A hint of decay hangs in the air, and a dried stain mars the stone floor under the body.
Ankhef looks around for any signs of what killed the man.
(+2 Stone)
Teos will climb back up first, hold out his hands questioningly, trace out Need rope in the sand. He indicates two dwarf heights worth.
"Poor fellow."
(+2 for unusual stonework, +1 for traps)
