Kwin glances between Torin and Ahmed, then speaks quietly so only the dwarf can hear. "Be nice, Short Round. We just saved the poor guy, you don't want to pick a fight and have to kill him. Besides, we're all supposed to be on the same team, and it's better to make friends to watch your back than enemies you have to watch."
In the hallway, Kwin cautiously approaches where Torin's squatting, drops to his hands and knees, then gets even closer to the floor to sight across it.
"How the hells do you spot this stuff!" he exclaims, impressed as always by the dwarf's sharp senses. "I'd've stepped right on that thing."
The kitsune pushes himself back into a squat and looks at the plate thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Can't we just walk around it? Like I said, I plan to stay alive, and there's always some risk in dis... arm..."
He trails off as he looks over his shoulder to discover he's talking to himself. With a soft laugh and a shake of the head, Kwin pulls a leather tool roll from his pocket, unwraps it, pulls out a thin probe, and begins working gently around the edge of the plate.
Eventually there's a soft click. Kwin sits back on his haunches, exhales in relief, and says, "Okay, I got it. Come on in."
As Torin and Kwin find and discover the trap, Djehuti is scribbling in his notebook, doing his best to capture the images depicted in the carvings.
Koshu had watched the argument with an inscrutable expression, his tail slowly lashing. Once the body was set to rest, he paused to bow his head over it for a minute, murmuring a prayer in his own tongue. Then he went to stand near Ahmed and Suri, though it wasn't they who had his attention.
He brushed a light hand over the decorations, sniffing. "Truly, a great tomb for our unfortunate friend," he said quietly, with a glance at the grave robber. "And somewhat appropriate, yes?" His mouth open in a laugh, he peered at what Kwin was doing in the hall.
A faded tapestry hangs on a wooden frame on the western wall of this chamber. Faded and delicate, the tapestry depicts a middle-aged man, accompanied by a woman and two children, with a small estate in the background. To either side of the tapestry are two small pedestals, upon which sit two dead and preserved animals. Stone double doors exit the chamber to the north, south, and east.
The animals on the pedestal are mummified cats, likely Akhentepi’s former pets. They were most likely strangled and then mummified so they could accompany their owner to the Boneyard and his soul’s final destination.
The tapestry is a portrait of Akhentepi, his wife, and two children, depicted standing before their family home. You can discern several symbols and hieroglyphs that suggest that Akhentepi’s family befell some tragedy, possibly murder or sickness, and he was left widowed.
The family is probably interred somewhere else, meaning this tomb was prepared much later, after Akhentepi’s continued successful military career.
Kwin steps up to one of the pedestals and studies the mummified animal thoughtfully.
"Apparently," he says disapprovingly, "being a pet of the high and mighty is a risky occupation."
He ducks his head towards the tapestry. "So it that supposed to be Akhentepi? Did any of us ever find out anything about him?"
Reasoning that practice might help him develop a modicum of skill, the kitsune moves to the southern double doors and examines them.
Koshukhep squinted at the mummies, his nostrils widening in a silent sniff. "I think we have found out that either he loved his pets very much..." He glanced back at Ahmed with wide eyes. "Or perhaps he was considered more important than others, to have such guardians placed with him? I do not recall any cats in the other tombs I have, ah, examined."
He took a quick look behind the tapestry, just in case, then went over to aid Kwin in examining the southern doors.
Djehuti inspects the tapestry for a few moments. "The tapestry is a portrait of Akhentepi, his wife, and two children, depicted standing before their family home. There are several symbols and hieroglyphs that suggest that Akhentepi’s family befell some tragedy, possibly murder or sickness, and he was left widowed."
The elf looks over at Kwin. "Nothing that we haven't discovered since arriving here, no. Now we know he was a military commander of some repute." He gestures at the tapestry. "This tomb was likely built long after his family died. It is safe to assume they are not buried here with him."
"Come look at this." Suri calls to Ahmed. Still with his jaw set and looking at Torin with irritation, he reluctantly follows her into the next room. "Curious." he replies, looking at the mummified cats. He cocks his head at Koshu, "Their placement around the frame could suggest guardians."
Suri stares hard at the portrait before looking to the symbols above, and coming to the same conclusion at Djehuti. Her face betrays little emotion as she reads - losing a loved one is something that the D'jinn rarely encounter, given their long lifespans.
Ahmed frowns at Djehuti's synopsis. "The cats are here but the family isn't? Strange."
...[Kwin] moves to the southern double doors and examines them.
The southern doors do not appear to be trapped, and seem as if they will open easily.
"Looks clear," says Kwin as he steps back from the door. "Torin, you want to give it a look?"
You descend a short flight of stairs and find another door. You open it and a brightly painted chariot sits in the center of this chamber. Beyond the chariot, a large canvas stretches between two stone columns. The skins of several animals—antelopes, great cats, and crocodiles—now faded and deteriorated with age, are tacked to this canvas.
A wooden chest, lacquered white and trimmed with gold inlay, sits in the southeast corner. In each corner of the room a small stone shield is molded into the masonry at shoulder height. An open hallway leads to the east, and a set of stone double doors leads south.
This light chariot can be considered an art piece or antiquity, but it must be disassembled, moved, and put back together. If successfully removed from the tomb and reconstructed, the chariot is worth 100 gp, or 150 gp if restored.
Restoring the light chariot would require a successful DC 15 Craft (carpentry) or Profession (driver) check. A Make Whole Spell would also work.
The chest is beautiful, and if undamaged, is worth 200 gp as an art piece.
The chest is trapped, such that a razor-sharp, blade slices into the hand of a would-be thief who attempts to pick the lock. Breaking open the chest with physical force avoids the trap, but doing so ruins the value of the chest itself. Disable Device DC 20 for the trap. And then another Disable Device DC 20 to unlock it.
Treasure once the party opens the chest…
The chest contains two potions of cure light wounds and one potion of darkvision. Also inside the chest are two books with thin, gold-plated metal sheets for pages. The first is a brief biography of Akhentepi, and the second is a list and description of the various military campaigns conducted by the nation of Osirion between 2350 and 2450 ar. Each book weighs 25 pounds.
Kwin's eyes narrow as he glares at the animal skins fastened to the tapestry, muttering curses in Sylvan beneath his breath.
Trying to put the pelts out of his mind, he looks around the room. "Huh," he exclaims, pointing at the chariot with his uchigatana. "How do you suppose they got that thing in here? Maybe we should check for really big secret doors. In fact a whole wall might slide or swing away."
Then his eyes fall on the chest, and they narrow again. He walks over to it, then cautiously circles it, leaning over to study it as he goes. Finally, he squats down in front of it and points at the lock.
"Either I'm getting better with practice or this is a shoddy job of trapsetting, but this thing's rigged. I can see spring-driven blades in the recess. Probably take off a few fingers if not the whole hand of anyone who mucks with the lock."
He sits on the floor cross-legged in front of the chest but to one side of the lock. "Nobody stand directly in front of the chest, in case the blade ejects instead of just slashing," he says as he places his leather tool roll on the floor and opens it. Running his fingers over the implements therein, he extracts two after careful consideration. With one in each hand, he begins working in the crack between the body and lid of the chest.
In fairly short order a "sproing!" is heard and a grin spreads across the Kitsune's face. "Heh. Mess with me, would you!"
Scooting around to face the chest and switching to a different pair of tools, he goes to work on the lock. Eventually, a satisfying click is heard. Kwin replaces his tools, rolls up his kit, stands up, and asks somewhat smugly, "Who wants to do the honors?"
Kwin triumphantly opens the locked chest. It's then he notices a small vial set inside. It seems that the razor sharp blade may have also been poisoned.
Koshukhep squatted by the chest, seemingly uninterested in the rest of the room's wealth, and the trap laid bare. He reverently lifted one of the books, carefully opening it and blowing a bit of dust away. Gazing at the hieroglyphs, he flipped through several pages, trying to make sense of them.
"I should have paid more attention to old Antekh-Mon," he rumbled in frustration. The end of his tail twitched on the floor. "My skill is not great enough to read this." He gazed at the pages a bit more, then looked hopefully at Ahmed and Suri.
"Can you tell me if there is any mention of my people?"
As Kwin scouts out the room, Djehuti sketches and takes notes. He gives the chariot a brief glance after Kwin's comment and shakes his head. "Or possibly they built around it. In any case, it is not irreparable. A moderately skilled craftsman could restore it to working condition if we were able to remove it from here."
Much like Koshukep, Djehuti was far more interested in the books than in the potions. The usually stoic elf's face lights up as he looks over Koshu's shoulder. "These books have incredible historic value. This is a brief biography of Akhentepi." He quickly but gently retrieves the other book and quickly scans a few pages. "This seems to be a list and description of the various military campaigns conducted by the nation of Osirion between 2350 and 2450 AR."
Ahmed frowns at Djehuti's idea of taking the chariot "We can consider it on the way out - taking it through with us now would only slow us down. The chest is also likely worth something, but would not exactly be easy to carry."
Taking the books gladly from Djehuti, pleased to have some connection with the past, Ahmed begins flipping through them.
Izra looked over everything in the room, her brain almost automatically catalogued and valued each item. "The chariot would require a lot of work for its cash value. Put perhaps a collector could be encouraged to do the work."
Without including the potions, as she considered them tools for later use, Izra estimated the chest and its contents to be worth roughly 500 Osirian gold coins, and the chariot another 100-150, if they could get it out and restored. She -as usual- let the group know what she had estimated, and what she was thinking.
"Best we take the potions, leave the rest for now. We can carry the chest out later."
"A biography of Akhentepi?" asks Kwin as one eyebrow goes up. "How fluent are you in that language, how long would it take to read the whole book? The knowledge could aid our efforts."
"Pay dirt. Lovely. No point in lugging this around now. We can pack it out once we finish our survey."
Djehuti shrugs absently as he flips through the pages of the book he'd picked up. "As fluent as anyone alive, I would expect. It would probably take a few hours to read through the biography."
Four funerary masks hang on one wall of this short hallway, staring down as if in judgment at anyone standing in the corridor.
"Oooo, well aren't you lovely."
Torin checks the masks for any shenanigans, and if he finds none, he will start pulling them off the wall.
Kwin carefully taps one of the masks with a fingernail, cocking his head to listen to the tone. "Not solid gold. Plated. Still worth a cute copper, though."
Izra gives the masks a look. She nods to one of them. Then she eyes Ahmed's reaction to Torin's man- (dwarf-?) handling of the masks.
"Two of the masks depict the gods Pharasma and Abadar. The other two masks depict the gods Sekhmet and Osiris. Sekhmet is the ancient Osirian goddess of war. And Osiris is the god of the afterlife."
She points at each mask in turn.
Kwin shakes his head. "Excepting recent talk, I'd never heard of any of those gods. On the other hand, I've met no one in ages who knows of Daikitsu. 'You can take the kitsune out of Tian Xia, but...' "
Koshukhep reverently took down the mask of Sekhmet, his golden eyes shining. "I know of her only from tales of the ancient days and ancient ways," he said, gazing into the mask's face. "It is good to finally look upon her face - without being judged first!"
He cradled the mask protectively, looking at Torin. "It is a good omen to find her here. We should leave her and Osiris to watch over us, at least while we are down here."
"Given their size, value, and fragility, and that we do not know what is ahead," Izra said, "we should, perhaps, leave them all here for now. It makes little sense to carry things deeper into the tomb, only to have to carry it all back out again."
Djehuti nods in agreement with Izra. "That is sound advice."
A table displaying a three-dimensional diorama occupies much of the north side of this room. Three shields with different designs are displayed upon a rack against the east wall, while various weapons hang from another rack along the south wall. Arrayed around the room are five small chests and a clay urn.
With a sculpted landscape and tiny stone and wooden statues, the diorama depicts an ancient battle between the city of Wati and an unidentified enemy. As the band approaches it, three tiny wooden warrior dolls animate and leap from the diorama. Their tiny spears poised to attack.
Djehuti Initiative: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
Suri Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
Ahmed Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Kwin Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Koshukhep Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Izra Initiative: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5
Dolls Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Torin Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Koshukhep, slower to react than one might expect of a catfolk, blinked in mixed astonishment and amusement. "Such tiny guardians! But perhaps their spears are poisonous," he mused, prowling forward to swipe at them.
Kwin blinks as the miniatures move into attack position.
"You gotta be kidding me!"
Izra had certainly not been expecting this, and her surpise left her staring for a few moments. Then, reflexively, she reached for the power of magic to defend herself, flinging a deluge of water at the closest little warrior to her.
Djehuti's hand flies to his quiver and he fires an arrow at the closest animated doll.
Djehuti fires an arrow and hits one of the warrior dolls, knocking a piece of its torso loose.
Kwin attacks the other one, but misses, even with a little help from Izra.
But then Koshukhep knocks the doll into the wall smashing it.
Ahmed closes in on the remaining doll, trying to keep his curiosity from getting the better of him. He swings with his sickle, but comes up quite short, frowning to himself as he does so.
Seeing Ahmed having trouble with the small creature, Suri moves to assist him, but the quick doll has no trouble avoiding her claws, either.
Both Ahmed and Suri miss the animated doll. It then slams its wooden fists into Suri's shins.
Ahmed's eyes blaze as the doll attacks Suri, and he launches forward with another swing of his sickle.
Djehuti nocks another arrow, aims, and fires at the last remaining doll.
Ahmed's sickle cleaves the doll in half. Its tiny frame shudders violently and then is still.
"Well done," Koshukhep said with satisfaction. He picked up the remains of a doll by its leg, dangling it before his nose. "Strange guardians for a tomb of this relative importance. Perhaps they were only meant to delay us?" he asked uneasily, glancing around.
"Well don't I feel like the bull's teats right about now. Good job gents."
The combat over, Torin pokes about the room.
Djehuti stows his bow back in its case on his back and looks around the room. "They certainly were not effective guardians." He whispers a word of power and looks at the items in the room; the diorama, weapons, shields, chests, and urn.
On the East wall there are three shields. The shield on the right is a light wooden shield identical to the shields carried by the soldiers in the diorama that attacked you.
It bears Ancient Osiriani hieroglyphs that spell the name “Akhentepi,” marking those soldiers as under the command of Akhentepi.
The light wooden shield on the left does not appear to be Osirian in origin.
It is similar in style to those used by tribes in the Mwangi Expanse, far to the south.
The center shield is unusual in that it is a light steel shield shaped like a scarab.
The shield matches the one borne by Akhentepi in the engravings on the doors in the lower shaft room and the trapped corridor.
The rack on the south wall holds a composite shortbow, a khopesh, and a spear -- all of which evidently belonged to Akhentepi.
Most of the arms and armor on the racks are mundane items, but Akhentepi’s khopesh and spear are both masterwork weapons. The composite shortbow is still serviceable, but its string has deteriorated, and must be replaced before the weapon can be used. The scarab-shaped steel shield detects as magical.
SCARAB SHIELD
PRICE 4,399 GP
SLOT shield CL 3rd WEIGHT 6 lbs.
AURA faint conjuration
This +1 light steel shield is fashioned in the shape of a scarab beetle—a creature that functions as a psychopomp for Pharasma, guiding the souls of the departed into the afterlife. Scarab shields are especially favored by archaeologists and tomb raiders for the protection they grant against guardians and vermin frequently found in ancient ruins and forgotten tombs.
Once per day on command, a scarab shield grants its wielder a +2 sacred bonus on saving throws against fear and death effects for 3 minutes. At any time while this bonus is in effect, the wielder can end the effect as a swift action for a burst of healing energy. The wielder loses the saving throw bonus, but is healed of 1d8+3 points of damage.
In addition, a scarab shield can protect its wielder from swarms. If a mindless swarm attempts to enter the wielder’s space, the swarm must attempt a DC 11 Will save. If the save succeeds, the swarm can enter the wielder’s space and attack the wielder normally. If the save fails, the swarm instinctively avo s the space occupied by the wielder, completely ignoring the wielder for 3 rounds. This effect ends if the wielder makes any attacks, but the wielder may use non-attack spells or otherwise act without ending the effect. This ability functions once per day.
CONSTRUCTION REQUIREMENTS COST 2,279 GP Craft Magic Arms and Armor, blessing of courage and life (APG), sanctuary.
The chests are of good craftsmanship but less ornate than the one found in next to the chariot. None of the chests are locked or trapped, but each has been sealed with wax.
"You and me both, Torin," mutters Kwin as he looks around the room.
Suri flashes Ahmed a smile, pleased that he came to her defense, before moving to look at the shields. The one on the right she recognises as having the name Akhentepi written on them. The other two she stares blankly at.
She feels Ahmed's warm breath on her neck, one of the few telltale signs of his true nature despite his imprisoned form. He points towards the scarab'd shield "That's the same one we saw earlier." He suggests. Suri nods, but says nothing, and the two of them pause looking at the one on the left side, uncertain of its significance.
After trying to puzzle out the ancient Osiriani hieroglyphs with his forehead wrinkled in frustration, Koshukhep lashed his tail and went over to poke at the shields.
"I have seen this type of shield before," he said, lifting the wooden shield on the left down to examine it more closely. "Warriors from the Mwangi to the south bear them. Those little warrior dolls, they must have been Mwangi in origin as well. What are these doing here, I wonder? Tribute, perhaps?"
He looked up at the others, whiskers twitching as he set the shield aside. "Wax-sealed containers are perhaps best opened where their contents can be saved, if possible." He shrugged. "Though I can't imagine what might be salvageable after so long."
"Wax-sealed containers?" Kwin says doubtfully. "I've heard some of these odd cultures put body parts in them. Something about the afterlife."
Ahmed cocks his head at Kwin's calling the traditions odd, but decides not to fight that battle. "It was believed," he explains, "That they would be needed in the afterlife. The heart, however, was left in the body, because it was believed to house the soul." He shakes his head. "I do not recall them using containers such as those for it, though it has, of course, been several years."
Turning towards Koshu he asks, "Mwangi. Can you tell me of this place?"