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Guilford shares his knowledge to add to Ouroboreia's and loads his crossbow.
Ryster takes aim and is sure he's going to miss until the snake haplessly goes right into the hide of the beast!
Mikhaere ignites the creature on fire with his summoned flame, if only for a short time!
Ouroboreia looks for divine favour and spies a weakness to exploit when dealing with the target.
Elena then tries to capitalize on the weakness with her channeling expertise! It's super effective!
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Elena seeing the snakes mesmerised by the unholy power she is throwing at them decides to keep doing that for now.
(Channeling negative energy again, excluding all party members, not effecting myself, both snakes are in burst now)
It's always half damage (so that would be 3), Will save DC 21 or be dazed for 1 round)
"I can't keep this up for ever people, it's rather draining to channel the power of the gods. We need to bring one..or even better both of them down quickly now or they will be upon us and we're going to be in a bit of trouble."
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"I'm trying!" Mikhaere grumbles as the flames reappear in his outstretched hand like tiny shooting stars all angled towards him. Frustrated that the human(ish) things were telling him what to do, he throws extra hard this time--and lands a pretty damn painful blow, the fires burning right into the amphisbaena's face. "Huh," he mutters, "didn't know I could do that..."
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Guilford
Ryster takes careful aim and puts down the northern snake!
Seeing that particular snake be vanquished, Mikhaere turns to throw a ball of fire at the other just at the edge of his vision. It burns the snake deeply in the dark!
Ouroboreia once again reveals the weakness of the target for the others to exploit while Elena continues to push out divine radiance.
More arrows fly into the dim light from Mikhaere's spoon. Roland hears the satisfying squelch of an arrow piercing scaled hide!
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Finally, with the force of Elena's acid AND Ouroboreia's magic projectile, the snake falls with a faltering hiss.
Going around the shrine, you find that the rubble to the southwest is mirrored by a full statue of a robed human male to the northeast. Two altars also flank the pool to the southeast and northwest.
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There is no tail, Mikhaere. Both ends terminate with a head. As you chew on the scaly skin of the carcass, you Elena heading over to the complete statue.
As Elena ponders, she pushes a panel. It pushes in then pops out, revealing a compartment. The compartment contains several items, including a burial mask carved from lapis lazuli, three clay tablets describing funerary practices, and a rod carved from a single piece of petrified
wood to look like a fanged serpent.
Ouroboreia, the features have long since worn off, making the individual impossible to suss out.
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The rod is magical, as are two of the tablets. The rod is a rod of the viper (surprising no one). One tablet contains the spells gentle repose and speak with dead, just like a scroll, while another contains the spells deathwatch and false life.
There appears to be no other exit to this room beyond the passage which you used to enter.
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Assuming Ouroboreia explains the functions of the rod to the party, Mikhaere rolls his eyes dramatically. "It sounds like Torch is terribly evil, if he is interested in this magical stick--a fact that surprises no-one," he drawls bitterly with a shake of his head. "Alright. If there's nothin' else in here, let's head on out and see about getting past that bird-brained idiot of a border guard."
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Ouroboreia explains the purpose of each object in an acadaemical manner before storing them in her handy haversack. Then she climbs up the well with her knotted rope, and prepares to execute her plan.
"I'll accompany you until we're close to the gates but out of sight from the guard - I might stay behind you so that I'm hidden from view. Then I'll use my arcane spell to veil my presence from the customs officers' eyes, and I'll follow you inside. If anything goes wrong, let's meet at the establishment where we met Torch. Do we agree?"
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Seeing the group return (minus one), the same customs agent makes it a point to 'greet' you back to the city. "Welcome back to Eto blah blah blah so on and so forth. Where's the other one?" He starts looking around for the missing wizard. "Hrmph, I'll see her when she comes through... Not out grabbing artifacts again, are you, 'travelers'?"
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Mikhaere shrugs nonchalantly, eyeing up the irritable border guard with a challenge in his eyes. "No, just out hunting for lunch. Want some snake?" He pulls out a hunk of scaly amphisbaena skin that he tore off from the carcass on the way out from his bag, and then shoves it down his beak with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, too bad. All mine. Hahaha!" He caws as he strides on through, stopping only to let the guard search his stuff.
More obscene gestures are made once everyone is safely through the checking point. Because screw you, stupid annoying human.
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"Robbing tombs, god sir? Perish the though! I say, old chap, it seems you've been in the sun too long."
Gil get no farther before Mikhaere's antics occupy the guard's full attention. Once through, he mutters a few word under his breath.
"It's been a while since I visited the Third World, but really! These blighters don't even know what a service we're doing them by locking away dangerous relics..."
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"Zhat was zomewhat successful I would say. Next item on zhe list zhen?"
He stops to ponder while the others discuss next course of action.
I am looking forward to finishing the items as quickly as possible. Why all of these customs inspections? Paranoid. I much prefer the wilds to the sneaking around in cities. Oh well. I am happy to help.
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As you approach the location of the caravan, a very busy sight avails you. More than a dozen camels are tethered outside a large pavilion tent while a score of porters pack supplies for what looks to be a grand archeological expedition. Crates of tools, coils of rope, and sacks of dried food lie in piles waiting to divided up among the beasts of burden. Within the sumptuously appointed pavilion, stacks of scrolls and hand-drawn maps lie strewn across a canopied bed. A tall, dark haired northerner with a thick eastern accent and persistent scowl supervises the storm of activity while checking over an inventory scrawled in a well-worn ledger. "Where are those amphorae of water? This expedition won’t last a week in the Pillars of the Sun without water!"