Izra had arrived at the gate with her companions dressed in what they'd come to think of as her "work clothes." Instead of the flowing, concealing, and cooling robes she'd worn yesterday, she wore the formal, silver-chased black jacket that looked so much like (but wasn't - quite) the parade uniform of the Vocies of the Spire. There were no insignia of rank or unit, or even religious affiliation on the jacket. Marked or not, the silver chasing, the tiny vial of holy water at the collar, and the cut of the cloth would remind one distinctly of the Voices.
Beneath the jacket (which fell to her mid-thigh), Izra wore grey trousers, tucked into black knee boots (the Voices parade uniform consisted of black trousers, with silver piping, if anyone was still comparing). Her leather belts and accoutrements were also black. But where a Voice would have a sword and scabbard, Izra wore only a dagger.
Her hair was white again today (this was her "natural color," as far as anyone in the group could tell - at least, this was the color she returned to more often than any other), swept back in a simple pony-tail, tied with a ribbon of black velvet.
She'd given the Needle a few moments of contemplation, but not much more than a nod gave any indication that the monument meant anything to her beyond being just that - a monument. She was a Pharasmin, yes, but she'd never claimed to be a priest, and the group knew she drew some rather particular distinctions between her Goddess, and her Goddess's Church.
When the groups had been allowed to enter the gate at last, Izra's eyes, glowing softly blue - only faintly visible in the growing light of the morning - had scanned every nook and cranny along their path, though she didn't slow the pace at all. It was almost as if she was concerned with giving the appearance of being vigilant, more so than actually being so.
As her companions examined the door, Izra seemed somewhat distracted. As if something else was on her mind - and perhaps there was. Claim jumpers, perhaps. In any case, she didn't say much of anything, until the prospect of removing sand was brought up.
"I can bring the water," she said, though whether to wash away sand, or cool those who worked the tools, she did not specify.
The Band pitches in together and manage to displace the sand.
The Band put their backs into it, but even with the crowbar they have little luck with opening the gate for the first 10 minutes. The rest briefly and try again.
With a better understanding of how to tackle the problem, the group finally manages to open the tomb doors. And once they’re opened, it’s apparent there are no handles on the inside of the doors either.
In case it hasn't been made clear, Djehuti is mapping as well as drawing significant features and taking notes in his book. Just because that's what he does while exploring but also because it was pointed out that we could sell a map to somebody (the Pharasmins?).
Djehuti pulls a torch out of his backpack and flicks a hand to light it. He looks to Koshu to scout ahead, clearly eager to be inside.
Putting away his crowbar, Koshu re-shouldered his satchel and nodded to Djehuti. "Come, Torin. Together we shall find any threat the ancients thought to leave," he said with shining optimism.
He stepped into the vault and took a deep breath through his nose, flexing his long black claws. His golden eyes dilated as he grew accustomed to the lesser light.
He abruptly sneezed, blinking rapidly as a puff of dust blew up around him. "Their first trap was devious," he muttered sheepishly as he tried to clear his nose and eyes.
Izra gave the open doors an approving nod, and let the others fall into position as they prepared to enter the tomb.
"Wait," she said, before everyone was inside, "We may need to make sure we have a way out. These doors don't look as though they will be easy to open from the inside, but I'm not sure I want to just trust that no one will follow us - or close us in. Ideas?"
Torin steps across the threshold to see what he could see.
Djehuti notes that the door could possibly be safely left ajar, as they are a bit too heavy to be casually pushed by the wind, but just to be sure, he finds several stones and uses them to secure the doors.
***
This rectangular room is empty save for some engravings and fixtures upon the walls, a pair of heavy stone doors to the north, 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.
The dust and sand in the room, as well as the stale air, indicate that nothing has entered this room for at least a few decades.
"What is this wheel for? Is it a trap?" Koshu asked. He examined the faces in the corner, but could make nothing of them.
Djehuti turns from securing the doors to look around the room. He glances at Pharasma's wheel when Koshu mentions it. "The spiral is a common symbol of Pharasma. I cannot say whether it might be trapped, but it is not unexpected here."
The first thing he investigates in earnest are the hieroglyphs. After a moment he reads the admonition to the group as a whole. "The hieroglyphs warn, “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.”"
He points to the rest of the writing. "The rest is Akhentepi's biography. He was apparently a celebrated military commander who presided over the troops garrisoned in Wati prior to the city’s downfall."
Ahmed smiles as the group enters the room, already examining things with a certain starving hunger, while Suri rubs sand from her eyes. He looks towards what Koshu is examining and smiles. "The Lady Izra will be most interested in that," he says simply, and turns his attention to other things.
Ahmed studies the engravings on the wall, coming to similar conclusions as Djehuti. "Given the doors, the scent of the air, and the engravings, it is rather likely that we will face numerous traps. We must be cautious."
Izra nods with approval at Djehuti's solution to the door problem, then examines the first room of the tomb.
As expected, she takes something of a closer interest in the symbol of Pharasma carved onto the wheel.
Taking the room into context, Izra points to two of the faces in the corners. "Those two are meant to be Pharasma." She pointed at the other face. "That's Anubis. He was the Osrion god of mummification and burial."
She pauses, then looks at the faces a little more closely, before returning to the wheel.
"I think that we can roll this wheel to one side. Probably an opening behind it. Not sure yet whether the faces are to hold torches, or a trap, but... I think just torches."
"Well, let's see what we have here." Torin will check the faces and wheel for anything out of the ordinary and if nothing is found, he will roll the wheel.
Nothing particularly jumps out as unusual to Torin.
Ahmed looks over at the mention of Anubis, and stares into the carvings for a moment before quietly muttering "Hello, old friend." Taking a step back he looks at the giant wheel. "Perhaps it is worth exploring, though we also have the doors to the North to investigate."
Realizing that moving the stone would be work for those with more muscle than she, Izra stood back from the door, her sling in hand, bullet at the ready, and the power of the divine floating in her mind, ready to wrap around herself for defense, should it be needed.
Suri cocks her head at Ahmed, receiving a nod in response, and the pair of them approach the wheel and begin working to move it.
Koshu joined the others in attempting to turn the massive stone wheel. He bared his teeth, and his muscles bulged under his dark hide as he strained to move the heavy weight.
Koshukhep, Torin and Suri put their backs into it and the wheel slowly but steadily slides to the side revealing an opening. But the wheel is apparently designed to not stay open. If you were to jump in it would roll closed again.
Seeing that the wheel isn't designed to stay open, Djehuti starts collecting more stones to wedge it open as he had to secure the door.
Djehuti manages to very carefully build a crude but effective shim to wedge the doors open.
Ahmed, Djehuti, Koshukhep, and Torin all notice a faint scuttling in time to see a scorpion about to attack Ahmed.
It is a Ghost Scorpion. So named for their eerie, translucent carapaces, ghost scorpions are normally nocturnal desert hunters. A ghost scorpion's body is 3 feet long with a 3-foot long tail, and it weighs 45 pounds. It's tail is poisonous.
Djehuti Initiative: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Suri Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Kwin Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Izra Initiative: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (13) + 0 = 13
Scorpion Initiative: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (13) + 0 = 13
Ahmed Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Torin Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Koshukhep Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
"HAH! Back off, stingy thingy!" chides Kwin as he takes a step towards the scorpion. He spins into a crouch, whipping out his uchigatana and slicing horizontally at the creepy-crawly in one smooth, continuous motion.
Seeing Ahmed in danger, Suri springs into action, knocking him aside and throwing herself at the creature without even knowing for sure how dangerous it is, her hands a flaming blur as they claw at its carapace.
Izra didn't have a clear shot with her sling, and she certainly wasn't going to force her way past the others, or crowd them. This thing looked like an animal, perhaps it would react like one when surprised, and flee.
Quickly, she reached out to the power all around her, and caused a couple of gallons of water to drop onto the thing's head, out of thin air.
Kwin takes off a heavy chunk of the scorpion's hide with his weapon. It squeals in pain, but keeps coming. Izra conjures a small spout of water, but misses the flailing vermin.
Djehuti pulls his bow off his back and has an arrow nocked in a moment. He takes a moment to aim and fires.
Djehuti's shot goes wild. But then Suri cartwheels past her companions and delivers a flaming strike against the scorpion, rendering it to pieces.
The Band takes their time and finally manages to sneak past the wheel into the next room.
This square room 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.
The shaft drops 60 feet down to the floor of a chamber below. The rope extends only 5 feet into the shaft before ending, having been cut at that point. The rope is thoroughly rotted and crumbles if handled.
Djehuti edges around the smashed scorpion to retrieve his arrow, then joins the others in the room with the pit. "I will drop a torch down to illuminate the chamber below." True to his word, the elf pulls a torch out of his pack, lights it with a snap of his fingers, then drops it into the shaft. It falls slowly for the first ten feet or so, then drops quickly as it reaches the outer limit of his cantrip.
Kwin stands at the edge of the shaft, toes cantilevered over the edge, as he watches the torch fall. Its light flares briefly as it hits the floor beneath, and he lets out a low whistle.
"That's a long way down, Djehuti."
"It usually is," [\b] Izra said with a shrug. She reached for the rope on her pack.
[B]"Let's get moving.
Ahmed wouldn't have had the opportunity to react to the scorpion if it weren't for Suri, and he watched with a mixture of surprise and gratefulness as she smashed the creature to bits. It had been pure instinct on her part, the kind of moment that one felt of as defining, and while he liked what the action she took said about her, he was not so sure that he liked what his lack of action said about him.
Deep in thought, he follows the others towards the pit and peered into it curiously. As Izra removes rope from her bag, Ahmed finds himself feeling terribly unprepared, and poorly suited to all of this. 'It's just the awakening,' he tells himself. 'You'll get back into the swing of it.' But he wasn't so sure.
With Izra's rope secured, Torin climbs down and takes a look around.
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. A square shaft in the ceiling leads straight up into darkness.
The body in front of the doors is mostly skeletal, with a thin layer of desiccated tissue. A thorough search yields two metal pitons and a usable hammer, as well as two vials of alchemist’s fire that have remained miraculously unbroken.
It seems to be the body of a male human or half-elf who obviously died down here. Both of the body’s legs are broken from a fall from a great height, and the unfortunate man apparently crawled to the doors before he expired.
Holding the rope, Kwin levers himself over the edge and then slowly slides down to the lower level. Brushing his hands against his clothes, he looks around.
"So I guess this is the guy whose rotten rope broke," he says, poking at nearly mummified body with his sword.
Koshu made his way down, then knelt to sniff at the remains of the looter.
Unconcerned with the looter once he had been looted, Koshu cautiously approached the doors, wary of traps. "Torin, what do you see?"
Djehuti climbs down with a minimum of difficulty. He picks up his torch and holds it up high to look around the room and up the shaft. After a moment's consideration his lips twist into a smirk. "It's a trap." The elf gestures at the wide square tunnel. "Simple. No moving parts to break over the centuries. Very clever." He looks back at the others, glancing briefly at the skeleton. "As long as our ropes hold we should be fine."
"Ffahh, amateur," Torin kicks the corpse out of the way and hunkers down to take a look at the doors.
"Ffahh, amateur," Torin kicks the corpse out of the way and hunkers down to take a look at the doors.
Kwin squats down next to the dwarf to watch and possibly learn. "Torin, could you not make 'amateur' a condemnation?" he says quietly. "Because I'm one too. Well, except for that one job we got paid for, which I guess technically makes me a professional. But there's way more to it than how much experience a person has."
He looks over at the desiccated body his companion had unceremoniously kicked aside. "Because... you know... I'm still among the living. And I plan to keep it that way."
It takes Ahmed some time to climb down on the rope, and despite it being close to the wall and not particularly difficult, there are several moments when he comes close to falling. Suri shoots him a teasing look when he finally reaches the bottom, and he smiles back with embarrassment.
Before he can investigate the trap that the others are looking towards, he catches Torin kicking a corpse aside. Ahmed casts a long glare at Suri, as if to ask 'Where in the world did you find these people?' and approaches the dwarf, ignoring Kwin's attempts at diplomacy. "If you disrespect another in such a manner," he begins quietly, his eyes blazing but voice steady, "You shall be joining them presently."
Without another word, Ahmed retrieves the crumpled skeletal body, lifting it carefully and positioning it into a resting position, before quietly crouching in front of it, and speaking a quiet prayer.
***
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 either end of the hallway.
The engravings on the insides of both sets of doors resemble those in the previous room, except that Akhentepi is depicted as an older man riding in a chariot. He carries the same scarab shield, but his other arm points at his own reflected depiction on the opposite door.
Trap: This hallway is trapped, triggered by a 5-foot-by-10-foot pressure plate on the floor in front of the western doors. The trap fires a volley of darts from concealed holes down the length of the hallway. Disable Device DC 20
"I'd watch your tone there sunshine. If you keep it up, I might think that you were being serious. But if your so keen to revere the dead, I stepped on a beetle a little while ago, I think there is still a bit on my boot, if you want to shepherd it along."
Torin slowly walks down the hallway looking for anything out of the ordinary. Catching sight of a slight irregularity in the floor, he squats down and finds a cleverly designed pressure plate. "Hey Kid, if you want to earn your stripes, come handle this booby trap. I'll be on the other side of the door if you need me."