|Daniel Penfold 357|
|Daniel Penfold 357|
Over 6000 years ago the desert kingdom of Osirion was at its height. Over 4000 years later the cult of Lamashtu unleashed a terrible disease called the Plague of Madness on the city of Wati. More than 60% of the city's population perished in the streets and in their homes and Wati was virtually abandoned for 450 years.
In 2953 AR the church of Pharasma returned to Wati and established a new temple in the city's ruins called the Grand Mausoleum. Walling off much of the original city the Pharasmins transformed the abandoned settlement into an enormous necropolis, consecrating it in honour of the city's dead. Over the next 1700 years, people returned to rebuild a new city adjacent to the old one.
Seven years ago Pharaoh Khemet III formally opened Osirion's ancient tombs and burial sites to foreign explorers, realising it was a way of bringing trade to the kingdom. The necropolis of Wati, has, however, remained relatively untouched. But Khemet has now ordered that these tombs should be opened up for exploration.
If everyone could make a brief post for their character that would be great.
Azwynn peers around at the assembled group, lightly stroking her long auburn ponytail as she studies the faces around her. “Me name’s Azwynn Khazarak an’ I ‘ail from t’ Five Kings Mountains. I kin servive in t’ wild, an’ I kin fight wit’ bot’ a bow an’ a falchion.” She taps the shortbow on her shoulder and the falchion on her hip as she says each weapon name. “If need be, I kin also take on t’ aspect o’ any animal fer a s’ort time in order ta gain t’at animal’s ‘bilities.”
“I came ‘ere ta learn t’ trut’ ‘bout a story told in me fam’ly. ‘Ow ‘bout t’ rest o’ ye? Why d’ye be ‘ere?”
With a well-practiced twirl and snap, the sorcerer clears the clinging vestiges of sand from the folds of his outerwear as he enters Wati's central bazaar. The brown, ground-sweeping, bisht (outer cloak) barely conceals the heat-deflecting loose clothing of a tribal nomad and a well used dagger slung along the parched leather bandolier running across his chest. Kidhir's long black-and-white patterned keffiyeh (head covering/scarf) loops loosely several times about his shoulders before it wraps over his dark, Garundi skull.
He takes a deep breath, savoring the new and familiar smells of the one town his people visit enough to almost consider home. He herds some inattentive children out of his way with a cautious nudge of his walking staff against their legs as he enters the market.
Okaris stands in the bazaar and smiles as he feels the sun’s rays caress his neck. As he waits he is assaulted by the pungent smell of incense, spices, and sweat. Slowly he looks around the bustling bazaar, noting the calamitous multitude, hoping to catch sight of his new found friends. How do people live like this, he wonders as he misses the open expanses of the desert.
He recognizes the dwarf Azwynn and approaches. He listens to her introduction. Always so formal these dwarves, he marvels. With a slight nod of his head he replied, "Azwynn, may you always find shade," with a large grin he adds,"and I'm here because this is were we said we would meet."
Azwynn laughs, the rich, hearty sound of someone who enjoys life to the fullest. “I know ye, Okaris, an’ I know Seeker, but I ain’t met t’ rest o’ the folk s’pposed ta be joinin’ us.” She shrugs. “I was introducin’ meself. I like ta know w’at t’ folk I travel an’ work wit’ be good at.”
Pausing to wipe the sweat from her brow and then take a sip from her canteen, she says, “I ain’t sure I’ll ever get used ta t’is ‘eat. Underground caverns can get ‘ot, but some’ow t’ ‘eat ‘ere is diff’rent. I need t’ shade ye speak o’.”
Ogochukwu makes his way through the bazaar to the rendezvous point. He smiles at playing children and merchants hawking their wares. He walks with a longhandled polearm with a long axe-like blade attached to it, using it as if it were a staff. He wears a backpack and a belt from which hang all manner of adventuring gear. At the rendezvous point he spots the other adventurers and approaches them, still smiling. He speaks in a strong Mwangi accent "Hello, my name is Ogochukwu. Kahina told me we would meet here."
After a moment, the conversation he overheard as he approaches sinks in, and he adds "We thank Sarenrae for the sun, yeah? But we also thank her for the shade, enh? Yes, the shade is nice, but do not forget to thank her for the sun also."
I think one of Ogochukwu's low charisma quirks might be unwanted, tone-deaf (but well meant) preaching
"I invited another friend also. He and I have explored together before; it will be good to have him with us."
Azwynn squints suspiciously for a moment at Ogochukwu, then relaxes, apparently deciding to just go with the flow. “It do be nice ta meet ye, Ogochu...Ogochuk...” The Dwarf stumbles over the unfamiliar name, then rallies, “...Ogo...Me ‘pologies, me tongue kinnae get t’ ‘ang o’ yer name. I’ll look forward ta meetin’ yer frien’, too, when ‘e gets ‘ere.”
She then grabs her shorter-than-average quarterstaff and prods the area immediately around her feet with it. Apparently satisfied, she studies it for a moment, then puts it back in its spot.
Azwynn’s lived most of her life in underground caverns, and has struggled a bit with the heat since arriving in Osirion. I as a player am fine with Ogo’s low-CHA attempts to help and think that makes a nice quirk, but I may have Azzie act like she’s doing Ogo a favor by tolerating it.
A young, short, blond wild haired human steps towards the group at the table, "My name is Cymric, and I hear you are looking to be one of the groups to explore the old Wati tombs. I too wish to be part of this, as this is my homeland and I have looked forward to this and prepared for this for some time."
As he looks over the group, "I can find traps, provide running oratory and some comedic relief as we go about our serious business. I also know some useful languages, including Ancient Osiriani and Sphinx. What do you say?"
As Cymric approaches, Ogochukwu says to the group "Ah, here he is now."
After Cymric arrives, Ogochukwu spreads his arms, exasperated "Cymric! Have you forgotten me! Perhaps you did not get my letter... I am glad to see you all the same. I had hoped you could join me here in Wati. Of course you are welcome to come with us!" He shifts his spread of arms from a stance of exasperation to one of embrace to welcome his friend.
Kidhir spots Okaris through the freneticism of the bazaar, a well-spring of calm. He approaches cautiously, side-stepping locals who are too hurried to watch where they are going. As is customary among the dunes, he stops outside of the range where he is an imminent threat. Once he is seen by all and no weapons are drawn, he steps lightly into their midst. With a smile and a flowing, circular hand motion that lightly touches his forehead then lips then heart, he acknowledges Okaris. To each of the others in turn he bows politely greeting each as 'Sayyid' or 'Sayyidah' depending on their gender.
The formalities done, he says, "It is a joy to meet you all. I am Kidhir, the desert's child, but Wati is a second home to some of my tribe."
Azwynn gives Cymric a nod. “Aye, if Ogo ‘ere says ‘e invited ye, t’en ye do be mos’ welcome, Cymric.”
“T’ere do s’pposed ta be 7 o’ us ‘ere, an’ I’m countin’ 5. One o’ t’ missing is Seeker. Do any o’ ye ken ‘oo t’ ot’er do be?”
This is just RP. I know Kahina is our final missing character.
Kahina approaches the gathering, despite wearing studded leather under her loose robes she seems to be unaffected by the heat of the day. Maybe the polished silver holy symbol of the Goddess of the sun explains it?
Kahina is a tall, shapely woman with the dark skin and hair of the Garundi, her hair is braided and gathered in a high tail to keep it clear of her neck. Her dark eyes scan the group and she smiles warmly. Giving Ogochukwu a friendly nod.
"Well met. I am Kahina." She pats the healers kit she has at her hip. "I am here to give healing when we encounter the inevitable dangers of monsters and traps in the tombs."
Raising her face to the suns rays she smiles again. "A fine day isn't it?"
As the others introduce themselves the druid bows in welcome, "Blessed morning, I think we are still missing one."
He turns to the bard, "Seven is indeed a lucky number, if my companions have no objections please join us. Thank you ten thousand times for joining us."
Smiling and looking just a little confused, "Ah Ogochukwu, yes I remember you now and have the letter. I've met so many new people on my journey from Absalom, I completely forgot about it. How are you doing?"
As the others introduce themselves, Cymric nods and responds with a "pleased to meet you" and a smile.
Seeker Oread walks slowly and purposefully through the crowded street, allowing the river of people to flow around him rather than try to move out of their way. Everyone here moved so quickly, like it was their last day on Golarion. They shifted dizzily like the sands they lived on, which he also disliked. He had had the solid granite of the mountain beneath his feat his whole life, had built his mind and body around stone. Unlike most of the others gathered in the bazaar with their light, flowing garments to protect them from the harsh sun, Seeker Oread was topless and barefoot. He might have passed for one of the darker-skinned inhabitants of the city if not for the rays of the sun reflecting off his crystalline skin, causing spots of purple and blue lights to dance on the stalls around him as he moves.
Seeker Oread says nothing as he joins the group, simply giving an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment towards the gathered adventurers, or maybe just towards Azwynn. It's hard to say where his gemstone-like eyes are focusing, his impassive face betraying none of his thoughts or emotions.
When Seeker arrives, Azwynn gives him a friendly smile and says, “An’ ‘ere is our last one. Well met, Seeker. I’m so glad ye made it.”
She quickly runs down the names of their companions for Seeker’s benefit, then tells them, “‘Seeker don’t speak. It do be part o’ ‘is r’ligious practice. But ‘e’s right smart, an’ kin talk in sign language. I bin learnin’ ‘is language, so if ‘e gots somet’in’ ‘portant t’at needs sayin’, I kin be ‘is voice.”
"I am doing well now that you are here, Cymric. Did you ever think when we we're exploring those caves that we would someday be exploring tombs together, enh?"
Azwynn tells Okaris, "Nae,'e do be an Oread. 'Is people do be from t' plane o' Eart'. Oreads do be known 'mong Dwarffolk 'cuz o' our shared 'ffinity fer t'ings under t' ground. If t' t'ings I've 'eard 'bout t'ese tombs do be correct, Seeker'll bring good t'ings to our party. I ain't ever seen one in action meself, but I 'ave 'eard stories. Personally, I'm lookin' forwerd ta seein' 'im werk."
Seeker nods -again, almost imperceptibly- at the introduction. He lifts his hands, using the nonverbal language of this land to ask the ranger about her companions. "All human? Humans are always running."
|Daniel Penfold 357|
The bustling desert city of Wati is near bursting with excitement. Adventurers from every corner of the Inner Sea region have assembled here beneath the hot Osirian sun to explore the tombs of the city's necropolis, waiting only to be assigned their first sites for exploration. Surrounding the participants, the public has gathered to observe the ceremony as well. There is a festival-like quality in the air, and numerous street vendors are hawking goods and refreshments to participants and spectators alike. Some merchants have even brought what can only be considered adventuring gear to sell as last minute convenience items to explorers, while others advertise that they'll buy recovered treasures and antiquities from those who visit their establishments.
In front of the imposing edifice of the Grand Mausoleum, an immense awning has been erected between decorated pillars in the market to provide shade for the priests of Pharasma overseeing the lottery. Beneath the awning, two urns sit atop a table elevated a few feet above the ground on a wooden stage constructed for the event.
The high priestess, Sebti the Crocodile rises to her feet and calls for silence.
Azwynn chuckles at Seeker and nods. "Aye, all human," she agrees. "T'ough from diff'rent cultures. You an' me'll likely be t' slowpokes in t' group."
Then she adds proudly, "T'ough Dwarves kin carry a 'eavy load wit'out slowin' down any."
Upon hearing the high priestess call for silence, Azwynn immediately stops talking and watches the woman expectantly.
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 the rules guide you in your endeavours in this holy place: remember how this came to pass, every slave's hut is a memorial and honour the departed. May you go with the Lady's blessing."
One by one each group's name is drawn from the urn
You need to select one of you to go to the stage to receive your assignment.
Kidhir makes a quick purchase at a smoke-clouded stall as the festivities begin. He returns to the group as Sebti begins to speak. He holds a set of skewers neatly piercing some sort of smoking, curling, meat. His smile is genuine. "Sand Serpents. They're a bit gamey, but tasty. Would you like one?" He offers one to any of his companions and begins to expertly strip the meat from the minute ribs.
At the meeting place, "I wasn't sure we would be exploring anything after the caves, Ogochukwu" replies Cymric with a smile. "But we did have some good times back then."
Walking with the others to the Grand Mausoleum, Cymric quiets down when the high priestess calls for silence and listens intently.
As the groups name is called, Cymric momentarily starts forward but seeing Azwynn step forward to receive the groups assignment, he just chuckles and steps back.
When she returns with it, "well, which of the tombs do we get to discover its secrets?"
"Fates be blessed," Okaris whispers under his breath when the groups name is announced. He looks around to ask who would like to go forward to receive their assignment and smiles as the eager dwarf is already half way to the wooden stage.
Pray her eagerness does not lead her into danger, he thinks as he watches her retreating form.
Step forward Sand Striders.
Sebti reaches into the urn and pulls out a disc, showing it to her companions to record
Your first site to explore is the Tomb of Akhentepi, a tomb that predates the Age of Madness. The tomb is in the city's original cemetery in the eastern section of the necropolis. The necropolis will be opened at dawn tomorrow. Good Luck and may Pharasma smile on your endeavours
Doth I know anything about this tomb? Here's some rolls, dunno what's appropriate.
Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Knowledge (Nobility): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
|Daniel Penfold 357|
Seeker you know that Akhentepi died in 2488 AR, 11 years before the Plague of Madness. He was a military commander who presided over the troops garrisoned in Wati before the city's downfall.
The tomb was dedicated to many of the ancient Osirian gods including Anubis the ancient god of mummification and burials and also to Pharasma.
"Dawn tomorrow." Kahina sighs, looking both eager and worried. "For those who use weapons I would recommend something blunt if you don't have one. Fire will also be very useful. Holy water if you can afford it would be of great use as well."
She smiles "I can provide water, but some food in case we get lost or trapped is important."
Azwynn asks Sebti the Crocodile, "W'at are ye wantin' us ta do wit' any 'tiquities 'r treasures t'at we might be r'coverin'? Do we be free ta be sellin' 'em ta t' merc'ants who're wantin'em, 'r s'ould we be returnin' 'em ta ye, 'r w'at?"
"Me 'pologies if t'is do seem like a silly question, priestess. It just ain't been clear ta me from t' t'ings t'at 'ave been said so far w'at yer 'spectin' an' wantin' wit' regard ta t' t'ings we 'ope ta be findin'."
She then gives a wry chuckle. "'Sides, I ain't innerested in bringin' down some curse on meself fer bein' stupidly greedy!"
"I have enough food to survive for a week. If you can provide water then I have no fear."
Cymric; Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25 Do I learn anything more than Seeker did above?
Cymric; Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Cymric thinks for a moment or two, and you see a grin appear on his face, as he recalls some stray bit of knowledge about the history of the Tome of Akhentepi, and a little bit about Sebti.
After discussions and knowledge sharing, Cymric will head to the market place and buy a days worth of rations in case he gets hungry the next day while exploring.
The chance to explore a pre-plague tomb - especially one in one of the cities oldest areas - was appealing to Seeker Oread, assuming it hadn't suffered from grave robbers in the interim. A much more ancient tomb would be ideal, but Akhentepi's resting place may provide insight into a pivotal point in Wati's history.
Being in the bazaar already, Seeker Oread went about purchasing the things he would need for the next day. A leather-bound journal and an ink pen were his most important purchases. While more robust tools for cataloging his finds in the tombs would be required, they would have to wait until he had the funds. He also bought food for two days so he wouldn't have to leave the tomb before completing his research; Dried fruit and oats and grains sweetened with honey to accompany unleavened bread, as well as ground coffee and a coffee pot along with the milk, sugar, and spices the Osirians flavored their coffee with. He had normally preferred tea, but he found this desert coffee Azwynn had introduced to him to be quite agreeable and the effects the coffee had on his alertness would help him avoid mistakes on long nights studying the ancient tombs.
As a monk with a whopping 30GP, yall are going to have to provide any 'adventuring gear' our party might need, like rope. Spent all my money on a journal and a pen.
Now that he knows their destination Okaris double checks his equipment, I guess I will see every one at dawn tomorrow at dawn.
Okaris has 100' of rope, scroll of cure light wounds, and 2 acid flasks
You may take whatever you may find in the tomb, provided you follow the rules.
Kidhir, you know that it is unusual for someone as young as Sebti to be given the role of high priestess.
Cymric, you know that Akhentepi had a main crypt and also a false crypt, both of which were trapped. Now using map 3 in the links
The following day...
A rectangular stone mausoleum sits alone in what appears to have once been an ancient cemetery. The trunks of a few dead trees poke out of the sand around the tomb, and a hot breeze whistles through their dessicated 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.
Azwynn turns to Okaris, then points to the double doors, saying, D'ye gots any druid tricks fer blowin' some o' t'at sand 'way? I gots a shovel, but met'inks t'at do be t' long way 'round fer t'is task.
The nomad leans on his staff, observing the structure. If the doors open inward, the sand may not be a problem."
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 Anything of note? Do the doors obviously open outward or inward?
Seeker Oread's monks spade isn't technically a shovel, but it does have a spade-like head on one end. Still, he would rather not dig if it was avoidable. Striking the stone doors would be noisy, so to avoid that he would have to dig slowly.
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Knowledge (Engineering): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Azwynn shrugs and makes her own attempt at observing the doors. She's not sure she'll see much more than others, but figures she might as well try.
Azwynn perception check to see which way doors open: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
Woot, baby, natural 20!! I think the dice recognize the Dwarven affinity for stonework, lol