Alayi is in awe of her surroundings as they walk through the dead half of the city. When she reaches the tomb wth the rest of the group, she speaks up.
"Well, I think I have a tool for that;" Alayi begins to walk up to the doors of the tomb, while pulling out one of those kunai. "Lets see how to open this." Alayi looks over the stone doors for any handles or the like to figure out how to open them.
The doors are ten feet tall and made of solid stone. There are no visible handles or hinges.
"Hmph," Satati mutters, shaking her head. "Digging it is, then. Shall we all work at once, or in shifts?"
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Ninevekhti frowns. "The doors are on concealed hinges and swing outward. See here - traces of mortar along the seams and jamb that has since crumbled or been chipped away. These doors were meant to be sealed permanently and not intended to be opened again. And here - signs of a crowbar or similar tool having been inserted between the doors. Doubtless some thieving outlanders. One is concerned about whether the interior has already been despoiled."
Marcus emerges from his room in the morning energized, ready to discover history's forgotten secrets. He joins the others for an early pre-dawn breakfast, unsuprised to see that the Circle was far from the only group awake so early.
On the trek to the tomb, a rustling in Marcus's heavy coat precedes the emergence of a tiny creature from within one of his many pockets and pouches - a ragged and battered sackcloth doll with forlorn button-eyes and drooping rabbit ears climbs of its own accord to perch on his shoulder. It stands on two legs, balancing easily besides the archaeologist's head, as it seems to inspect the others in the Circle as they walk.
If anyone makes a comment on the creature, Marcus simply smiles. "Neve has her servants, and I have mine."
--
At the tomb, Marcus eagerly inspects the entrance. At the signs of forced entry, his brows narrow into a scowl. "Another has been here before us!" he exclaims. "How recent are these markings?!" he mutters to himself, crouching down to examine them. "Nethys's bane," he curses quietly. "Well, nothing for it. Let's get these blasted doors open and see if there's still anything left to find down there." He sighs. "Nothing will get them open with this sand here. Let us hurry." He immediately begins digging the sand out of the way.
--
Once the sand is removed, Marcus stretches and winces as his back creaks and pops. "Very well. That's over with - let's get this damned door open." He inspects the entryway again. "A crowbar wouldn't go amiss," he says offhandedly, before producing a rolled-up leather case with numerous tools and gadgets within. Placing an iron wedge into the gap between the doors to get some leverage, he gives it an experimental push.
"It will take stronger muscles than mine to open the way." He glances at the others, sizing each of them up for whichever seems the strongest, and assisting them when they approach the door.
Alayi helps clearing the sand before she tries her luck in opening the stone doors.
"Okay, my turn." She tries her best to use her wedge like weapon to pry open the doors.
She pushes with all her might to try to open the doors.
Marcus stops her. "Alayi," he says. After a moment he points to the doors. "Pull."
Alayi looks at Marcus, blinks a few times, then turns a slightly darker red.
"Er, Um, Right. Sorry. Lets try that again." Embarrassed, but not defeated, she tries again, pulling this time.
"Hey, I got it opened!"
She continues to pull open the doors of the tomb.
"So, other than me, who wants to go first?" As she finishes speaking, she gets out her scimitar as she pushes the doors wide enough for people to go through.
Here's an invitation to the Roll20 game. We'll be using this as a map for encounters.
After an hour of sweaty labor clearing sand away from the door and Alayi figuring out which way to open them, the doors slowly swing inside, grinding in protest of being disturbed after countless years of rest. The cracked doors allow sunlight to flood in, revealing a rectangular room empty save for some engravings and fixtures upon the walls. A heavy stone wheel sits against the opposite wall from the entrance.
The air is stale and the floor is covered in layers of sand and dust, that thickens as it approaches the wheel. 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 is engraved with a large spiral and is set in stone tracks in the flor and ceiling.
They also warn that, "Akhentepi's tomb is well defended, and those who defile it tempt the wrath of the gods." An additional warning advises, "The only thing the Lady of Graves despises more than the grave robber is the unsuccessful grave robber," followed by a final
admonishment to "Turn back while you can."
Menedes approaches the writing with a strange glint in his eye. He seems to trace it in the air with one finger outstretched, from several feet away, and he repeats what is written, exactly, without missing a beat.
"It seems the carvings represent Pharasma, and... some sort of beast? Perhaps it is some long-forgotten god of our people, but I do not recognize it."
"Whoa, sure is dusty."As Alayi waves her hand in front of her face, walking towards the giant wheel. "I bet this is also a door, definitely meant to keep people out. Wait you said Pharasma and some creature?" She checks out the mural to see what she knows.
"Yeah, though I have to say those beast things are kinda creepy."
She then checks out the wheel to see how to move it.
Ninevekhti is less interested in non-Osirian gods such as Pharasma; she notices that the stone wheel is Pharasmin and ignores it.
She studies the hieroglyphs and engravings carefully, translating them for those who are ignorant of such matters: "Akhentepi was a celebrated military commander of Wati, before its downfall ... certain inconsequential details of his life and triumphs are listed which One will not recite now ... Ah. Here is interest. 'Akhentepi's tomb is well defended, and those who defile it tempt the wrath of the gods.' ... there is a further warning 'the only thing the Lady of Graves despises more than the grave robber is the unsuccessful grave robber' ... and one more: 'Turn back while you can.' Well, we are not grave robbers, but One imagines we might be mistaken for such."
Turning to face the stone wheel, she states flatly
She doesn't acknowledge either Pharasma or the so-called Ruby Prince; she doubts that whatever lurks inside will be appeased by her words. But nevertheless, the fact that she is not a grave robber is important to her.
As Marcus enters, he mentions to the others, "Let us make sure the doors remain wedged open. I have no wish to become a permanent resident of this tomb simply because we forgot to leave a way out." He takes the iron wedge from his tool kit and uses it to ensure the doors will not close completely.
"By their juxtaposition with Pharasma, these faces clearly represent one of the ancient pantheon," mentions Marcus. "The iconography is ancient, however. I am unsure which of the old gods they depict."
"This wheel blocks the path beyond. We must take care - this is an excellent place for a trap." Marcus kneels down and inspects the base of the wheel, careful not to touch anything that looks like it might spring a trap on him.
The wheel is 10' in diameter and 6" thick. It easily weighs over two tons. Despite this, it is designed to be rolled along a track in the ground. There are no handholds that you can detect. You also find no traps.
Alayi looks at the stone wheel then turns towards the rest of the group.
"Just looking at it, it is going to be heavy. Two people;" She points to the south side, "Can push from that side, but looks like four can push from the opposite side."She gestures to the opposite side of the wheel.
"I suppose now is as good a time as any to call forth some aid," says Marcus, producing a handful of sand from within a pouch. "Arise, guardian of the sands!" he calls out with a gesture, casting forth his fistful of the fine powder. The sand swirls as it falls to the floor between his fingers, forming into feet, then legs, then a torso, then hands and finally a sunken-eyed face as an emaciated form takes shape like a wind-weathered sculpture of a man. It stands several inches taller than Marcus, and stares blankly ahead.
"Move there and push aside this wheel," he directs the construct matter-of-factly, moving to the south side with his guardian. The two lend their combined strength to the effort.
The sandy construct simply shoves the wheel as commanded, directing all of its force as simply and directly as possible.
Alayi is somewhat startled by the appearance of the sand creature.
"What in the world is that? You said a guardian, right Marcus? Just, um, don't let it touch me." After voicing her concern, she attempts to help move the wheel.
Heave!
"This," Marcus grunts as he shoves his back into the wheel, "is my bodyguard."
With your combined efforts, you manage to shift the massive stone wheel to one side, opening a five foot wide gap. Beyond is a square room starkly devoid of any carvings or adornment. In the center of the room, a square shaft drops straight down into darkness. A single piton has been hammered into the stone floor by the northeast corner of the pit. A dusty length of rope dangles from the spike and disappears into the shadows of the shaft. A musty smell rises from whatever lies beneath.
"Someone has beaten us here... perhaps they remain inside. If that is the case though, how did the stone wheel and the door, seal themselves again?" Marcus wonders. "I see no mechanism for returning the wheel to its resting place. We should prop it open, along with the door, to ensure we are not trapped inside."
Marcus rummages through his pack for a torch, lights it, and hands it to his sandy bodyguard. "Hold this, then stand by the pit," he commands as its hand clenches tightly onto the handle. He retrieves another wedge from his tool kit and takes care to lodge the wheel in place.
"Who knows what may lie beyond. Let us prepare for anything." He buckles a shield to his left arm and draws his oddly discolored machete, which seems to grow slick with a thin ichor along its blade.
"Well, I guess I will head in after the sand guardian goes to check out that pit." When the sand guardian goes in, she will get out her scimitar and stand inside of the doorway. "I don't like the look of this either, but it looks like that rope may have been here for a while. It looks like it is covered in dust!"
Ninevekhti ignores the pit, looking instead at the walls. "It seems too obvious to descend in that manner. Is there a door concealed in the walls?" She looks around, trying to calculate where any secret door(s) might have been placed.
After walking in after the Guardian, Alayi checks out the pit, and pulls up the rope to examine it.
"Hm, looks like it goes deep. And did I mention the rope is dusty;" Alayi waves her other hand in front of her face, and also coughs a couple times. "But it really is dusty!"
With the guardian's torch shining down the shaft, you can see that the rope terminates abruptly after about 10 feet. Despite its light, you cannot see the bottom.
When Alayi grabs the rope, the material crumbles in her hand and the remaining rope slides into the darkness of the pit.
Alayi looks a bit perturb as the rope crumbles to dust at a touch and stares down into the pit. "Not only it was dusty, it was dust."
Alayi may not even notice the bottom of the pit!
"His appearance may be distasteful, but his usefulness outweighs such sensibilities," Marcus replies. He lights a second torch and drops it down the shaft to see what is below. "Let's see how far this drop is."
Darude makes a hissing noise like cascading sand as he climbs down the rope ahead of the group.
Alayi watches the guardian slowly climb down the rope towards the bottom of the pit.
"It doesn't seem to have much going for it up above." As she gestures to her own head. "But it sure is obedient."
"Mindlessness can be an immensely valuable trait in a servant," Marcus remarks as he watches Darude descend.
"I would call it 'loyalty', if only to invoke a more positive trait."
The torch falls for about 50 feet before landing on the ground. Tying Marcus's rope to the piton takes little time, and after a few minutes, the Circle is able to move down the shaft with little difficulty.
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. The corpse is almost a skeleton, with the barest amount of dessicated tissue holding it together. A hint of decay hangs in the air, and a dried stain mars the stone floor under the body.
From this perspective, the purpose of the shaft is obvious. It is a death trap without a mechanism. With no clear way of climbing out, anybody who descends is effectively trapped, permanently.
Alayi climbs down after the guardian when "it" gets to the bottom.
When she finally gets down to the bottom, she looks around for traps before moving towards the door and the corpse.
Alayi looks at the bony corpse before speaking.
Hm, poor guy. Who ever it was.
She shouts toward the opening in the ceiling.
She then turns back towards the door and checks for traps on it.
"There was a reason I waited to summon him until we arrived," Marcus replies. Marcus draws his machete as soon as the group reaches the bottom, handing Darude the torch once again. He looks at the body. "Seems we've found our tomb robber," he remarks wryly. He inspects the body for any salvageable items (especially a crowbar).
His search concluded, he slides the desiccated body to the side of the door. "Open this door," he commands Darude, as his sandy bodyguard jerkily steps forward and shoves the doors open.
Darude pushes against the doors and after a moment of effort, they swing inwards to reveal a hall. The walls of this ten-foot-wide corridor feature bas-relief carvings of great battles. Armies with spears and shields clash at the direction of generals, while other leaders direct troops from chariots that are ruthlessly overrunning their enemies. Engraved stone double doors stand at the other end of the hallway.