As the group disperses Zanac shrugs at the others voicing their decision to head towards sleep already. However he does agree with the thought of spending some time alone and with that plan in mind he returns to the Blue Macaw. After settling his gear in his room he looks through his window at the darkening sky and decides he doesn't wish to be stuffed inside just yet. He creaks the window open and leverages himself outside, scaling the side of the inn until he reaches the roof, where he stretches himself out on the still warm tiles and watches as the sun slowly dips below the horizon.
Byron makes his was back to the bar as well, after he had his fill he made his way to his room where 0042B helped him to sleep.
Today was a good day, tomorrow would be better. This was not so much a prediction but a promise to himself.
Rasim shrugs as he sees the others disperse. Plenty of time to talk later, he thinks as he also returns to the Blue Macaw. He rents a room if possible, and buys a small bottle of liqour to celebrate winning the lottery. Rasim retires to his room with the bottle and drinks it before dozing off into a happy and excited sleep.
Graxzos watches the others disappear silently. Well, they're a funny-lookin' group, that's fer sure. Ah well... With a mental shrug, he turns resolutely toward the stairs leading up to his room at the Blue Macaw. He starts for bed.
He pauses.
He looks at the bar.
Some time later, after several pints and having led the whole common room through renditions (only a few well-received) of such dwarven and adventuring classics as "Bridge over the Maw of the Beast," "The Paladin," "The Only Livin' Gnome in Absalom," "The Sounds of Silver," and "We Love to Mine and Dig and Haul Rocks and Break Stone and Trade With You Using Fairly Established Weights and Measures" ("That one loses a li'l somethin' in translation from the Dwarven, but it's a great one!"), Graxzos stumbles upstairs to bed. He's somewhat surprised to find not just one but multiple people in his bed. Their argument that this is, in fact, their room, and that they have no idea who he is, he waves aside.
"Now, I--I didn't ask fer this...but if'n *hic* y'all are down, who am I to judge?"
Fortunately he gets dragged out of the room before he makes it too far into the bed, and once the owner of the establishment has secured the dwarf in his own chambers, he falls quickly into a completely contented sleep.
The morning breaks with a light wind stirring the dust of the streets of Wati. The chosen teams gather in the courtyard of the necropolis. Seven teams wait for their chaperone .
They include:
Cryptfinders: A motley collection of humans of all colors and ethnicities. A Chelian in a breastplate, a Garudan dressed in robes accompanied by what appears to be a four-armed monkey made of flames, a petite Qadiran wearing simple chain adorned with the sigil of Sarenrae, and what appears to be a brutish man of Tien decent. They are led by a slender Taldan man with a rapier.
Daughters of the Desert: An all-female party led by a woman of pale skin and fiery red hair whipped about by a whirlwind affecting only her. The group also includes a plated Rahadoumi female, a woman dressed only in light leather straps, perhaps from one of the nomadic desert clans of Thuvia, and two Osirian women, twins by all appearances heavily veiled.
Dog Soldiers: This group’s membership is composed entirely of 5 halflings and their pack of a dozen trained Katapeshi fighting dogs.
The Fated: Isaac, Brigitte, and Haffazz; with whom you are already aquainted.
Team 5: Yourselves.
Sand Scorpions: This party is uniformed in green-stained leather; a half-elven female with an odd spicy aroma surrounding her. Two male humans, and a (non-Pahmet) dwarf who spends most of his time flipping his collection of axes into the air.
The last team is late to arrive.
The priest from yesterday is nowhere to be seen, replaced today by a woman, bald, and also cloaked in black. She is smiling and making pleasant conversation with members of the Daughters of the Desert as you arrive.
”The lottery has begun! 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.” She sends a pointed glance at the members of the Fated. ”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.” With those words, the gates to the necropolis are opened.
The teams are called one at a time, and given a map to a specific site for exploration and a black-clad priest or priestess as a guard to ensure they disturb only the areas assigned to them and treat even that tomb with respect. Your turn comes swiftly, and you are introduced to Sebti the Crocodile, a young Osirian priestess hooded in black with green-stained lips.
”I will accompany you to the Tomb of Ahkentepi, a mausoleum that predates the great plague. It is located in what once was the great cemetery of Wati, before the city as a whole earned that title. I am tasked with seeing that you follow the precepts set out by the church:
Remember How This Came to Pass: Remember that the necropolis remains a holy place, and those who engage in needless conflict and banditry are not only criminals, but accursed.
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.
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. This rule does not apply to the undead or other abominations.
If you can do these things, our paths will remain untroubled. Otherwise . . .” She purposely does not finish her statement, but you get the feeling she is certain of her ability to punish violators of the law. ”Now, let us procede. I will not aid you in your tasks, but I am sworn not to interfere.”
She indicates the open door and waits for the first of you to enter the land of the dead.
Byron has a journal out and jots down the priestess words.
"Wow, it sounds like this city has an interesting history. Hopefully you aren't just planning to lead us to our deaths like the priests yesterday, I would like to get to know you and hear what you have to say."
Byron was never good at reading faces. Though is this case he was pretty sure that this woman not only liked him but probably had a bit of a crush on him. He shot her a sly smile before 0042B grabbed him and drug him to the side.
0042B leaned down like it were whispering in Byron's ear, but at full volume stated:
"-Warning- Foolishness impending. -Overbearing at 40%- That woman doesn't care for you, nor for anyone else here. Caution is advised. Probability of betrayal 40% - Probability of broken heart 99.564%"
"There is little to say. I serve Pharasma, and the balance of life and death. I am hear to watch you steal from the honored dead, minimize the damage to our sacred places and to prevent you from committing greater crimes."
She looks at 0042B and says quietly, "You have my sworn word, so long as you follow the rules, I will not interfere."
Well this one is certainly much nicer than the last one. I wonder if she'd be interested in a bauble from the tombs as well... Zanac thought to himself. He shook himself from his thoughts as the young Ositian priestess joined them. As she began explaining the "rules" Zanac spent most of the time attempting to get a good look at the woman's face hidden in the shadow of her hood.
"I thank you for your...kind guidance. I understand this is a bit of a touchy subject for your people but what in the devil makes this undead ground so sacred? I have no intention of disturbing the dead but it seems to me that if this was actually a holy sight it would be...better maintained would it not?" he paused. "Oh, that's what we're here for. Cleanup crew. I understand now." he said with a cheeky grin.
Zanac then turned towards the open doorway and stepped over, peering into the Necropolis. "Well, no time like the present." he said and walked into the area.
"The dead are all sacred. This place is no more special than any tomb. The reaction you get for this is the same we would give to one who kicks over headstones or grinds the dead to dust for concoctions, or co-opts the shell of the body to house unquiet spirits."
She grimaces at the inappropriate in her eyes levity.
"Nothing needs cleaning. Those who have gone on should be left to their sleep. Or do you like to have your bed made while you still lie on it?"
Zanac turned back to address the priestess. "I don't know about you but if my bedroom was infested with rats, giant beetles, and various undead monsters I'm pretty sure I'd appreciate just about anyone coming in and removing them from the area. But hey, that could just be me. Maybe you people like having flesh-eating monsters roaming about your sacred ground, who am I to judge?" After he had finished speaking Zanac returned to scanning the immediate area, trying to keep track of where the other groups head off to as well as noticing any unfriendly creatures in the immediate area.
@Zanac
You see nothing but dust and decaying buildings. They build them to last in Osirion, but a thousand years takes its toll on the grandest of Man's creations. As for the other groups, you see a quickly drying damp spot where the Dog Soldiers marked their passage, but the rest turned directions different from yours.
The young nobleman takes note of the other adventuring parties. Most of them seem to be well put together, unlike the randomly selected units that made up their own. He's confident that they can deal with whatever's inside, though - he in particular would be good enough to deal with whatever undead creatures lurked inside.
He smiles at Sebti, speaking to her respectfully enough. "Good priestess, know that I will respect those who at their final rest. The dead have nothing to fear from me. The undead, on the other hand, will find out quickly that their presence will not be tolerated."
"So!" He claps his hands together, looking at the others. "Shall we get going? I would lead the way, but I'm better where I'm not first at risk at getting attacked."
"If abominations are your only target, you will have no objections from me."
Graxzos wakes up that morning with a pounding headache, and meets his team at the gates of the necropolis a very sour, hungover dwarf. His tinted goggles help...but not much.
Some of this lot look like pros, he thinks bitterly, Shame I ended up with this ragtag bunch. As Sebti goes over the rules of the necropolis, he snorts derisively. "Listen, yer worshipfulness," he says gruffly, "I'm gonna play by yer rules as much as possible, but don't expect me to be bowing and scraping to the deadbeats in these tombs. Well enough to let the dead rest in peace, but these particular dead's got s+@+ with 'em the livin' could use, and I intend to grab some of it." Loosening his pistol, he strides into the necropolis. "C'mon--let's start the liberatin'."
Byron watches the other teams depart. "Perhaps it is good that we did not come up with some bombastic sounding name and we looks less professional, I have a feeling slipping under the radar will work well for us."
He turns to the priestess. "Sorry about mother, she can be less than sensitive. I have three questions, so as to make sure we don't cross a line or break a rule."
Sticking up his index finger. "First is: Do we have to take a path directly to our destination or can we make our way how we see fit?"
The second finger went up. "Two: You said, and I quote-" Reading from his note verbatim. "Those who engage in needless conflict and banditry are not only criminals, but accursed. Does this mean that teams are not allowed to attack or interfere with each other? Like, say for instance, if another team stalked us and opened a crypt that let undead out to attack us, would they be violating any rules?"
Finally raising the third finger. "Finally, I think it is absolutely vital we know... What is your name?" Byron said with a devilish grin and wink.
0042B's hand came up to bring its palm to its face with a slap, which made a loud clang and a few bolts came off.
Sebti responds to Graxzos with a frozen expression and two words, "As expected"
She then responds to Byron's queries, "The route is yours to choose, but you are permitted access only to your assigned tomb. In fact, the teams have been assigned specific locales to prevent just what you describe. Any who add the living to their list of plunder targets will not be allowed in the Grand Mauseleum again. My name is Sebti, Sebti of the Crocodile." A flash of green shimmer washes over her swarthy complexion when she speaks her name.
"All very good questions to have - another which I might ask is, would you happen to have a map of the Necropolis? It would be nice to know exactly where this tomb is specifically. I'd also love to hear a little about Ahkentepi, their life and accomplishments." Orcen tells the priestess, staying close to her and pondering what that shimmer was - it would be rude to detect her for magic right there, however.
Ahkentepi was the captain of the guard for Wati several thousand years ago. You remember the name, but don't recall much else - a footnote in history.
Satinder awakes from a night of fitful unrest albeit with renewed zeal. This day marks his first steps to getting back at those who snuffed his family from the face of Westcrown.
He makes his way downstairs to the common room of the Blue Macaw, gathering around with the others, and eventually accompanying them as they make their way to the courtyard of the necropolis. As their team is called he moves forward, maintaining a passive silence, uninterested in the members of the other teams. He restrains the urge to bolt into the newly opened necropolis as the group is introduced to this Sebti the Crocodile.
As the strange woman introduces herself he listens intently, not wanting to break any of these rules and risk exile from the crypts. A cold gleam shines in his haunted brown eyes as he listens. Even with a deep tan, his eyes look sunken and hollow, dark circles underneath indicative of his sleepless night.
The tomb of Ankentepi. That may be the origin of The Voice. It must be, for it seems I am barred from entering any of the other tombs. I wonder if it is the spirit of this man that calls to me?
As soon as he notices Graxzos enter the necropolis, Satinder immediately follows, virtually riding his heels as he struggles to contain his eagerness.
Rasim has been with the others since the Blue Macaw's common room that morning. He has been quiet, as is his way, listening to the others and trying to learn more about them. His body languages towards Sebti is very respectful, and he listens carefully while she describes the rules. Not that I intend on keeping all of them, but how will I know what will get me cursed otherwise? he thinks.
Once they begin moving into the tomb, Rasim takes up the rear, watching their surroundings carefully and trying to keep quiet.
@Rasim
Because the gates are historically closed there is little information about the interior of the necropolis. You know both law and custom keep most people out. It is a powerful taboo.
Remember making an intentional perception check is a move action, greatly reducing your travel speed, and attempting stealth in a group of non-stealthed party members in broad daylight in the center of the road will come with significant penalties.
@Rasim
The tomb you are going to is not an important one. In this case, there really isn't anything to know, no stories from the underground, no great legends surround this tomb, no expeditions have been lost. I am not trying to invalidate your trait. Please trust that my goal is not to make your choices pointless.
As the group proceeds into the area, Zanac notices Rasim light-footing about, as if attempting to avoid attracting attention. He turned towards him and called out. "Look, we're not expecting an ambush just yet. No need to try avoiding attention, we're actually looking for it or at least I am. I'd like to see just what kinda nasties this place has in store for us.
With that said Zanac took a few seconds to scan the immediate area for any threats, almost eagerly looking for enemies.
"I'm just being quiet," Rasim replies simply. He continues to "slink" though not from doorway to building. He just steps lightly and makes very little noise. He does however pause at any doorways or tight intersections they come to, to give them a good look for booby traps or dangers before passing through.
Seeing that everyone else is more interested in getting to the tomb than knowing about it, Orcen takes up the map to take a look at all of the different landmarks on it. He's especially curious to see if he happens to recognize any of the names as of special merit to the city of Wati. Pondering if they might take a slight detour in that case. After they've explored the guard captain's tomb, of course.
He looks over at the priestess, smiling at her again. "This wouldn't happen to be your first time in the necropolis as well, would it?"[/b] He asks.
@Orcen
There are many areas of interest in the city; the old cemetary itself has dozens of sites worth investigating. An army of archeologists could spend a lifetime amongst the ruins, and looters by the thousands could fund their grandchildren's college funds. Each block you pass has opportunities for knowledge or treasures beyond compare. You are almost paralyzed by the number of options. It is almost a relief to have a site chosen for you.
Bear in mind, you will be given more sites after this tomb is explored. The charter promises three at a minimum.
If there is something more specific you might be interested in, ask away; unfortunately I could fill a sourcebook with what you could explore.
And this is for everyone at this point. The answer to 'Is there anything interesting?' Is EVERYTHING. Narrow it down if you can.
"I have had occasion to correct the behavior of tomb raiders, unauthorized tomb raiders, within the Grand Mauseleum in the past, but this will be my first time to enter one of the tombs or buildings"
Graxzos stumps along at the head of the party, pack hunched up on his back, keeping his eyes half-shut to avoid the glare of the Osirian sun. "So ye've not actually been in one o' these crypts before either?" he asks Sebti. "Pharasma's icy womb, woman, how are you supposed to help us?" He squints sideways at her. "And how is it you lot 'correct' those who break your precious laws, anyway, eh?"
"I have no intention of helping you at all." she looks on the dwarf with disdain. "Nor should you expect me to, if you plan on insulting me and my faith with every other statement. You show no concern, no understanding that this is difficult for me. As for the corrections, so long as you hold to what you agreed to, it won't be a concern. I assume that is your plan?"
Sebti escorts you in a sinuous path through the streets, avoiding the ghoul infested portions of the city. You pass into the old cemetary and arrive at the entrance to the Tomb of Ankentepi. 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. Ancient hyrogliphics adorn the door.
"Let's look at this another way. Would you want some unknown and scruffy looking adventurer tossing over your corpse to get at whatever treasures you were buried with?" Orcen asked the dwarf. "Or worse, raising your body as a foul abomination. The dead are to be respected, for it is through their contributions that we came to be who we are today. That said, I would consider it a personal favor if you would not aggravate our escort any further. She's here to ensure we follow the rules, and so we shall. Just be glad that we're allowed in here in the first place, to see such boundless and amazing history!"
When they finally reach the tomb, the young wizard stops to admire the craftsmanship of the tomb, peering at the hieroglyphics etched on its surface. A student of Ancient Osiriani, he takes his time translating them aloud in Taldane.
"So, we should get the sand out of the way so that we might open the doors more easily - and without damage," He adds, for Sebti's benefit.
Graxzos snorts at Orcen's suggestions. "Well, my body bein' raised as a ghoulie would be a damn shame for whoever got in its way, and I don't hold with the undead. But I don't plan on leavin' any valuables fer later folks to steal. I make it to old age, I plan on liquidatin' me assets in huge vats of wine and the company of beautiful, willing courtesans." He grins at the thought. "Ah, but looks like we're here. Lessee..."
He stares at the tomb, eyes narrowed. "I suppose we will have to shift the damn sand," he mutters, scowling. "Let's set in, then."
@Orcen
The name of the individual interred within the tomb, Akhentepi, is engraved upon the doors along with the dates of his birth and death, 2416 ar and 2488 ar, 11 years before the Plague of Madness decimated most of the city.
@all
The doors are 10 feet tall and made of solid stone with no visible handles or hinges.
It takes about two man-hours of work to clear away the sand, to reveal the doors fully, but there are no exterior handles to grasp, or sections to push on for leverage.
Once the sand has been cleared away, Graxzos kneels at the door and runs his finger along the jamb and the outside seams. "Hmmmmm. Cracked mortar here--someone didn't want his tomb opened. Well, time's helped us out there. The doors're probably on concealed hinges, looks like they swing this way." He stands and frowns thoughtfully at the doors. "Maybe if we can get a lever of some kind in there...blowing 'em open's against the rules, right?" he asks Sebti glumly.
Zanac carefully examines the entryway and notices what appear to be concealed hinges. He scrapes away a few pieces of stone to examine further and realizes that at some point this tomb had been sealed firmly enough to prevent access of any kind. "Who puts a door in and then cements it shut? Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" Zanac mutters to no one in particular. He begins tracing the outline of the door with a finger until he reaches a chipped and broken point in between the doors. "Hey priestess, it looks like we're not the first ones to try and get in here after all. It appears someone else tried to pry these doors open some time ago, and it looks like they might have managed to get in. The seal on this door is so old it's unlikely to have kept a determined rat out much less a grave robber."
@Zanac
Remember that Knowledge checks cannot be made if you are untrained in the skill.
@Graxzos
"If an alternative is available; no, blowing them open should be avoided. Ideally, when you leave, the remains should be left to their final rest as protected as when we arrived."
You cannot make an untrained Knowledge check with a DC higher than 10. If you have access to an extensive library that covers a specific skill, this limit is removed. The time to make checks using a library, however, increases to 1d4 hours. Particularly complete libraries might even grant a bonus on Knowledge checks in the fields that they cover.
"I agree about the hinges - tombs like these were generally built so that the doors would never open again. Which does pose a bit of a problem," He muses, looking at it carefully. "I don't suppose that anybody brought along a prybar? We could use a bit of muscle here. How about...you," He says, pointing at Satinder. "If you don't have a prybar, just try using your sword - it should fit through the gaps all right. Come on now, we haven't all day to linger."
He looks up at the sky, wondering how many more hours of bright daylight they'll have.
It is late morning coming up on noon.
Sebti holds her hand over her mouth to conceal a smile when Orcen asks if anyone brought a pry bar, and everyone looks at each other blankly.
Zanac looks around for anything that he can use as an improvised lever.
Stone won't hold, you know it would be much too brittle. There are a few scraps of iron used for borders, but the last thousand+ years has not been kind to anything exposed to the elements.
"Eh. Screw it." Zanac says and picks up the least rusted piece of metal lying around, placing it into the crack in the door and putting his back into prying the doors open.
After realizing the party lacks a proper lever with which to open the doors, Satinder steps up and taps Zanac on the shoulder, prompting him to stop.
"Please, allow me."
Sliding his falcata into the crack, he makes sure he has good leverage, and pushes.
Both Zanac and Tinder succeed in shifting a few more pieces of crumbling mortar to the ground. In both cases, you think you've just about got it, but the doors don't open. It's a shame that neither of you are part of a group so you could have worked together.