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Arasmes summons the almighty power of the DOT to do his bidding
Arasmes summons the almighty power of the DOT to do his bidding
So does that mean your Eidolon will be the 7up symbol from the 90s?
I'll be the noid
Deep in the lands of Osirion, the ever-watching gaze of Ra bears down on the ancient sand-laden lands. Light reflects off the giant beetle skin planted in the capital Sothis, a memory of the Ravager-Spawn that almost ate the city in ancient times. It to, however, fell to the power of the Pharaohs. Osirion endures, and now seeks to thrive under the leadership of the Ruby Prince, Khemet the III, favored of Abadar. Seven years ago, the ancient tombs and burial sites of dynasties long past have been opened by order of the Pharaoh to adventurers and collectors of lost lore. One such site that has recently been reopened is the Necropolis of Wati, a small city that was cursed by a plague of madness over 2200 years ago by the dread beast Lamashtu. The plague slaughtered over half the population, causing many to burn with a great fever, and others to go stark raving mad, becoming no better then rabid dogs chomping at their tails. Now the city is only a shadow of its former glory, with 75% of it abandoned to the vagaries of time and the gods.
Major temples of Wati: Wadjet, the goddess of the River Sphinx
Phasrama
Abadar
You have arrived here after hearing of the lottery that the local temple of Phasrama has setup for exploration of the tombs. Burial sites are randomly selected from the Necropolis of Wati, which sits behind massive stone walls labeled with glyphs and prayers to keep out the undead remmnants of the plauge. Gathering at Wati's prime temple, the Grand Mausoleum devoted to the Lady of the Dead, Phasrama, the high priestess, Sebti the Crocodile, begins her speech and relays the rules and governing factors of the lottery. The temple has built an awning shielding the gathered populace and greedy merchants curious or motivated by profit to view the select destined for greatness, or despair. Several other adventuring groups and reclaimers of lost artifacts (or just opportunistic tomb raiders?) lounge around the walls, waiting for the priestess to relay the following:
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.
Rules of the Lottery: Urns holding tokens of wood stand on a table. When you arrived, one of you was given a token (choose amongst yourself) that represented your group. When the adventuring group token is drawn, the burial site token is drawn from another urn and then the representative of that group is summoned to the stage to present your token to the acolyte. Once your identity has been confirmed, the high priestess Sebti will show you on the map where your destiny awaits.
The Rules
Remember How this Came to Pass: The Plague of Madness was unleashed upon the city of Wati while religious authorities were engaged in infighting. This rule is a reminder 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. Exploresrs must not desecrate or vandalize standing structures and tombs, but preserver 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 rules does not apply to the undead or other abominations.
Failure to follow these rules means major bad mojo for the violators, as both Phasrama and many of the gods of the ancient Osirion Pantheon will layeth the holy smackdown on you. Do any of you wish to do anything before selecting your representative to get your tomb assignment? Once you get the token, you have until the morning to prepare, and then you will be allowed into the necropolis to seek your doom, I mean fortune.
The half-orc Zohreh of the Bulls sits around the campfire with members, both new and old, of her human father's caravan. There was some revelry after a good trade that afternoon, but things are quieting down now. She is content, has been for a time now. She knows it is not to last.
"I had a dream last night," she says, breaking the peaceful silence. "Shelyn." She clasps her father's hand, preparing him for what she is to say next. "I need to leave the caravan. I must enter the tombs they opened up in Wati."
In retrospect, there was probably a more delicate way to say that - but a woman with Orc as her mother tongue does not ply insincere sweet words on her kin.
"I cannot do it alone - is anyone else with me?"
"Zohreh," your father states, "It is time to gather your friends and go on your way. The goddess does not send dreams lightly, especially of cities long dead to all but a few thousand. Beauty is your shield and your strength, and you must weave it into a new pattern so that it can spread across the desert sands. Before you go, let me hold you one last time so you remember you father's arms and the love of those that hold you dearest." With that, your father wraps his arms around you, kisses your forehead, and whispers "May the music of the Lady guide you to beauty and sweet love." He then releases you, and you go to gather your stalwart comrades on a journey laden with high adventure.
Arasmes looks back and forth and seeing that no one else is going up to grab the token, he goes himself. Once he comes back he says I hope we get a good spot. I've wanted to go to Wati since I was a boy.
Arasmes looks back and forth and seeing that no one else is going up to grab the token, he goes himself. Once he comes back he says I hope we get a good spot. I've wanted to go to Wati since I was a boy.
FYI: The token and the temple stuff comes after you guys meet and talk in the caravan going to Wati.
Varisia perks up from his dinner, hearing a way to preserve some of the grandeur of ancient OsirIan, if not in local temples than in a benevolent benafactory faith, speaks up 'If you're looking for people for proper relic recovery, I'm your man. I only insist that any relics recovered of cultural or religious importance be placed in proper care.' Varisia stares cooly at the half-orc, firm on his conditions.
"Of course," says Zohreh, as if she had not imagined anything else.
Cross-legged, Lorn watched the flames of the fire curl up into the night sky and listened to the crackle of the wood. The sound was comforting and reminded her of home. Her mate sat to her right and to her left was her young Ankylosaur, whose broad muzzle she rubbed before moving her hand to the back of his head and each horn in turn. The creature let out a low growl, pressing its head into the Elf's palm. Lorn softly chuckled at his antics.
When the female Half-Orc spoke and asked those in the circle if they would join her in Wati, Lorn leaned in, her form suddenly energised by the offer.
The rugged Human male with the keen eyes had then spoken, endeavouring to gauge the Half-Orc's intentions. Lorn studied him in the light of the fire - He was not like the other humans she had encountered or heard stories of - those who would desecrate the old places for glory and coin. She was pleased by his consideration. It was a start.
"I will join you. As will Ravi"; her low, thick voice filled the space before her golden eyes moved in the direction of her handsome mate, wondering if he was eager to join the one called Zohreh.
Arasmes looks back and forth and seeing that no one else is going up to grab the token, he goes himself. Once he comes back he says I hope we get a good spot. I've wanted to go to Wati since I was a boy.FYI: The token and the temple stuff comes after you guys meet and talk in the caravan going to Wati.
Arasmes looked over at his lover and says Where you go, I go. الدنيا لا شيء بدونك
He looks up at his eidolon, standing guard over them. Caliphana looks like a statue come to life. Polished marble like skin, covers a stern face. She has a vaguely female cast to her features and wears the garb of an Ancient Osiriani noble's guard.
What about you Caliphana? Do you think we should go to Wati also and see what adventure awaits us?
With a voice like rocks smashing together, she says Where you go, I go...except without you my life would be much quieter. She then winks, bows slightly to Lorn, before going back to watching the darkness around them.
A woman dressed in armor made up of overlapping plates of polished steel walks over. She is carrying a large polearm with intricate carvings all along it's length and a sharp polished blade at one end. Her head is bare, with her long lustrous black hair coming back to mid-back. Her perfect broze skin almost shine in the light from the campfire and her marvelous amber eyes glitter. "I couldn't help but overhear that you plan to form up a group to take of the prince's offer for Wati. I would be delighted to join you." She says in a soft melodious voice.
She looks over the crowd and recognizes the looks that pass between Arasmes and Keelorna before her gaze is drawn to Varisia. Something about the ruggedly handsome man really captures her attention and she walks over to sit down next to him. "Your attitude is quite commendable. I'm Zariya Ameerah, would you mind to share your name handsome?"
Zohreh rolls her eyes at all the romance blossoming around her. Perhaps in another life, she would have settled down by now. Her travels have proved more interesting than most of the men she met on them.
She is heartened by the show of support from her fellow caravaners. She mulls over what they might need to do in the tombs then realizes she must correct her last words.
"I cannot promise all relics will survive," she says apologetically. "Though Shelyn loves objects of art and beauty, my task could be to destroy an evil artefact."
Arasmes pulls his eyes from Lorn to the Half-Orc and says Would Shelyn not love it more to redeem said artifact from evil rather than destroy it?
Now that you get a better look, you see that Arasmes is not human, though his features are such his skin is grey and he seems to fade in and out of view in the shadows of the campfire. His jet black hair falls in lustrous waves past his shoulders. His eyes are so black that it almost seems they are all pupil, contrasting greatly with the jewel that rests upon his brow. He has a languid manner and grace to him which gives the impression that he is lazy. Looking at his eyes however, you see that they shift quickly to the newcomer as she approaches, before returning just as quickly to Lorn.
Varisia puts down his fork and smiles at the Aasimar, he thrusts out his hand and moves his food to a cheek. 'Varisia James, good to meet you. What brings a lady like you to Osirion? '. He resumes chewing and eyes Zohreh knowing he'll need to pick up later.
Zohreh wonders where Arasmes is from. She finds it easier to be around other humanoids who are clearly not fully human.
"I doubt a thing can be redeemed," says Zohreh. "If it could, I would have to try. It would feel silly teaching an object wrong and right - hard enough for sentient beings. I struggle daily." She shrugs. "We may yet find out."
Arasmes smiles, brilliant white and straight teeth, and laughs softly before saying Perhaps redeemed was a poor choice of words. Purified perhaps...or cleansed, of evil taint?
"If we could. Those gifted by the gods have magic for a reason. I am not used to such a solution, coming from an orc tribe, but I must learn new ways to strive for good."
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Arasmes looked over at his lover and says Where you go, I go. الدنيا لا شيء بدونك
His words were prettier than any jungle or desert flower. Hers were as coarse as the sand grains beneath her feet. They were two halves now whole.
She simply inclined her head and held his dark gaze. His eyes were obsidian swallowing all the light - fearful and wondrous in one breath. She had never met such a male as him and it was good they enjoyed each other.
Where you go, I go...except without you my life would be much quieter. She then winks, bows slightly to Lorn, before going back to watching the darkness around them.
Arasmes' incredible companion enjoyed toying with him. At Caliphana's wink, Lorn smirked before graciously acknowledging the gesture.
"How Caliphana adores you, Habibi. How fortunate you are."
She watched as the beautiful woman with amber eyes - Zariya - moved closer to them. Lorn stared at her fine armour and weapons. Perhaps she is a Princess...she holds herself like one. Zariya spoke to the human male - for he seemed to have caught her eye.
The conversation between Arasmes and Zohreh drew her attention back - it seemed they were debating the fate of dark relics. She was unsure of what to make of the priestess ... however she was pleased that the Half-Orc did not give slight to her mate due to his caste.
Lorn's thoughts momentarily strayed to her Grandfather and the Alijae. Among them she belonged without question, yet here, her appearance seemed unrefined next to the likes of Zariya - yet some would call it a wild beauty. Lorn's hair was shorter - dark as the other female's - but the Elf's sat above her shoulders with a few intricate braids nestled among the strands. Lorn's eyes were prettier -- gold -- bright and intense. Her dusky-hued skin was a mark of her tribe and her once jungle home. She was tall, as Elven folk were. She travelled with an Ankylosaur and that drew attention in the more crowded towns and cities. Her Elven bow and machete could be seen on her person and she wore simple but well sewn leather armour. The dagger she possessed, made out of the black stone found in her homeland, was hidden from sight.
"If we could. Those gifted by the gods have magic for a reason. I am not used to such a solution, coming from an orc tribe, but I must learn new ways to strive for good."
"All should learn as they explore the world and grow with it" and gave a firm nod of encouragement.
The Wild Elf remembered she had not yet spoken her name to the strangers around the fire pit.
"I am Lorn of the Alijae. My animal companion is Ravi of the Sands", she gestured to the lounging, now placid Ankylosaur.
Zariya takes his hand with a strong grip and responds with a clear melodious laughter. With a smile she replies, "The same thing that brings you, that brings most of us here I wager. The offer from Prince Khemet III is too good to pass up. I've always wanted to do something with my life, rather than let my father rule and decide everything. This is a golden opportunity for that. Maybe it'll offer me an opportunity to uncover more of my mother's heritage as well. And who knows what else we'll find. Relics, sure. But with the right group, we can find so much more." She winks at him briefly as to tell that there is more to her words than what she's saying. "Companionship was not something easily found at my father's court.
She looks around, noticing the others. "Speaking of companions, who are the rest of you?"
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"I guess that means I'll be going as well. After all, someone has to keep you guys from getting in trouble. The descendants of the Four Pharaohs were both zealous and creative in protecting their ancestors. You'll have to keep an eye on where you walk as well as each other ," says Jandra-ki with a sly grin, the warm glow of the fire accentuating his high cheekbones. Tossing his head back and running his hand through his hair to pull the wavy lengths away from his eyes, "I'm Jandar-Ki. I, too, seek the wonders buried beneath the Osirian sands. For a fair share of what we unearth, I'll be happy to keep watch."
Arasmes looks up from where he is lounging on the sand. Forgive my rudeness, I am Arasmes ibn'Fayad. Seeker of realms beyond the stars and lover of Lorn, life, and...lust. he finishes with a lecherous grin at his elven companion.
His brown eyes brighten as Zariya speaks of glory to be gained among the ruins and in other ways. 'You father sounds like a real piece of work. '
He shifts his attention back to Zohreh 'So long as we preserve all that we can.' Another fork full of food makes it to Varisia's mouth. He gins broadly while chewing, he knew coming south would work out.
Zohreh nods at Lorn and then Varisia in response, her beaded black braids clinking.
She looks up at Zariya and smiles hesitantly. She is not used to smiling; it does not quite suit fangs. But better to start making friendly overtures now that she is venturing forth with relative unknowns.
"Apologies," she says. "I am used to not needing an introduction here." Everyone asks about a half-orc quickly enough. "I am Zohreh of the Bulls tribe."
She studies her companions more closely. Shelyn has gifted the women indeed, but Zohreh cannot help but wonder how that beauty will fare amidst the dirt and danger of which she dreamed. It will remain to be seen.
Zariya turns towards Varisia to respond, her amber eyes glowing in the firelight. "My father..." Zariya bites her lip and hesitates. If he knows who my father is, he'll probably behave differently. "Is a topic for another time."
She turns back to the rest. "I think it's great that we've found each other. Together we'll be able to uncover wonderful relics, I'm sure. It seems like we all share the same goal in this." She stands up and brandishes her fauchard. The beautiful ornate weapon reflects the firelight. "Like the unrelenting strength of the golden sun I won't falter in protecting you from the dangers we'll face. Sarenrae gives me strength, and with this magnificent weapon given to me by her high priest Amheer Ak’Dulad I'll strike strike down whatever foul undead or others that seek to impede us."
Lorn pondered the name uttered by the female holding the pretty stick with its curved blade and recollected it to be a god from one of the many stories her grandfather had told her of the gods as a child.
Her belief in her goddess is strong. It did not hurt to have the gods' favour in any endeavour - Lorn herself had called upon Ketephys, Elven God of the Hunt's guidance in the past. Mayhap Zariya was well trained in arms and could wield the pretty stick with ease. Lorn would see for herself when the time came. The Elf preferred the longbow, but more so, Lorn approved of courage and honour. She was aware of Arasmes', Caliphana's and Ravi's strengths ... These others would have to prove themselves.
Pretty words were not her way. She spoke plainly with an untamed tongue.
"We fight, side by side. All have their strengths. We see what the lottery reveals in Wati. With this accord, what name will we be known by when we enter the city?"
Varisia considers names for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. He looks around, studying the landscape, swallows, and suggests 'Sand... People? We can ride single file to hide our numbers, it'll be our calling card.' He looks around hopefully while scraping the remains of his dinner into the fire.
As the caravan winds it way through the Kho-Rarme pass, the group notices that the mountains give way to the lonely desert lands of Osirion proper.
http://pathfindersociety.net/know-nations-osirion/
Civilization lies ever towards the east, near the meeting of the Asp and the River Sphinx. 99% of Osirion's croplands are found in the Sphinx River Delta, where the river floods yearly and grants its bounty to the parched lands around it. In many ways, Osirion would not exist without the bounty of Wadjet, the river goddess. Some legends say Wadjet flows down the river from the sea to meet with her lover Hapi, and their joy floods the banks of the delta with the life-giving silt. The caravan passed through the Slave Trenches of Hakotep, remnants of a mad pharaoh's attempt to command the sky. Finally after 2 weeks of travel down the river, the caravan arrives in Wati. The discussion above now takes shape on this, your last night before you enter the city and seek your fortune in the lottery.
"I was going to say Sun People, instead of sand people, but hunters sounds even better Jadar-Ki. Thank you both for your golden suggestion." Zariya says with a gentle smile.
"Sun Hunters?" Zohreh suggests. She is glad that the others are providing ideas, not being particularly creative herself.
They had travelled far and they would enter the city in the morning and attend the great lottery.
Once again the night sky was broken by the curling flames of the campfire. The one called Varisia suggested by riding in single file they could hide their numbers. In an open desert it would not matter for there was no where to hide.
Lorn inclined her head at Jandar-Ki's comment regarding hunters and her Ankylosaur companion. As talk continued over the name of their collective, Lorn simply added, "Since Zariya admires the golden, then let it be The Golden Sun Hunters." Lorn held no objection to the name as her own eyes were a bright golden hue and she saw it as fitting. Golden, cleansing light and illumination also seemed to suit their purpose. The hunter playfully scratched Ravi's wide muzzle as his head moved up to look around the fire at the small group his mistress was a part of and then laid his chin back down on a log when he was satisfied with his observation.
Arasmes smiles at the name and says I agree. He then stands and raises his wine flagon and says To the Golden Sun Hunters! Qad alalihat tamnah lana alhazz walmughamara!
"To the Golden Sun Hunters!" Zariya says and hefts her weapon into the air.
After everyone have calmed down and Varisia has finished Zariya leans down close to the mans ear and whispers huskily "The drudgery of just traveling with a caravan all day is really getting to me. I'm looking forward to getting to Wati. Before we get that far though, what do you say about joining me in my tent for some pleasure to break up the monotony." She blushes slightly, invisible in the dark. "I've never been this forward before, but something about you is just so irresistible that I couldn't stop myself from asking." Though, to be fair asking with my father or any of his men nearby would likely see both me and the man severely punished if not killed.
The archaeologist pauses for a moment while tucking his mess kit away. Women in Galt were known to move pretty fast as well though the James family didn't spend much time among strangers and most of that was spent bartering goods. He cocked his head and his memories flashed to Willie, back in the Senator's house in Oppara. Varisia shook away the bittersweet nostalgia for a time not so long ago. He smiles to himself and nods.
Varisia turns his head to face Zariya and exclaims 'The Golden Sun Hunters!' He jerks his head towards the tents and begins to amble away from the fire.
(since we agree moving on is what people wanted, I'll get us to the proper location as the camera fades to black as Zariya and Varisia decide to meet up in a tent... Play that out as you like, as can the others responding)
The following day, the Golden Sun Hunters arrive in Wati. The city is a combination of recent Osiriani and Keleshite buildings, mixed in with the ancient glories of the Old and New Kingdoms. The docks on the river Sphinx are full of barge traffic, as a larger barge moves to take the 6 caravan wagons across the river to the docks. From there, an increasing stream of people heads towards the Grand Mausoleum, the temple to Phasrama, whose worship has replaced much of the traditional reverence of the funerary gods of Isis, Nephthys, Osiris, and Anubis, though shrines still exist for these four along with Wadjet.
(The aforementioned scene with the tokens happens then). Arasmes picks up the token, and you find out that you will be heading to the Tomb of Akhentepi, a noble who died during the great plague 2500 years ago. You have until sunrise tomorrow to make plans, memorize spells, buy gear, etc, and then you will set out to the tomb.
Following the draw Varisia scribbles down the name Akhentepi and stuffs the paper into a pocket. 'I'm going to look into this Akhentepi guy then see what sport this city has to offer. Anyone care to join?'
"Of course I'll join you. Maybe someone in the city knows something?" She says smiling. "We might get a better idea of what kind of gear if we know more about him and the tombs in general."
Her strength did not lie in the delicate probing of strangers. She did not possess the finesse required to loosen tongues.
"Let us all find guidance before the new morning arrives. I will come to learn more of this Tomb of Akhentepi. I will leave the questions to those suited to the task." Her voice was still low/husky, and, to her new companions, seemed to be the general way she spoke. Lorn's golden eyes fixed on the Princess and her chosen Man and then brushed across her own mate, Arasmes. Ravi simply craned his neck, but made no sound.
You find out that it's a tomb. Usually they contain dead people.
"I guess he's too long gone to find out anything useful. It would have been nice to know how wealthy he was, if there is anything in specific he is known for or maybe even something about the kind of protection his tomb will have, but I guess we are out of luck." Zariya shakes her head in disappointment. She then shrugs her shoulders. "Ah well, it's not like I have much money left over. I would have to borrow from one of you if I were to get any more gear anyway. Some weapon to deal with specific resistances of various monsters we can face might be nice, but I can't afford that at the moment anyway."
Varisia finds a spot of shade next to a building and leans back against the wall. He fans himself tiredly with his hat and looks up at his companions.
'Books don't really prepare you for the heat down here. It feels like mid-summer in the Nine Hells. How about we try to scare up some entertainment? If not, then I suggest we find a nice cool hole to crawl in to,'
That was a joke. I'll have the pertinent info up in an hour.