Melech growls and stands, knowing he is close to going down for good and beyond the point of caring. He bled with this man. That is a sacred bond that you do not break. Melech will teach him the consequences for doing so.
He stands, takes a short step to flank with the ankhat, and swings the flail with all the strength his has left.
Ulysses struggles fruitlessly against his bonds. If they get out of this, he vows never to allow himself to be made so helpless again.
Sigrun stumble-runs over to Melech and touches his shoulder, sending positive energy into him.
Once again he tries to wrest control of the ankhat from Sigrun.
He curses under his breath and begins making arcane gestures.
His whip snaps out lightly, distracting both Melech and the ankhat for a brief moment, and he vanishes from sight. A retreating, disembodied voice says, "Fair enough, Melech. You get this round. But I never leave a job undone. You'll be seeing me again soon."
The ankhat looks around, as if confused, then moves toward the north end of the hall, looks around again, and moves through the doorway and out of sight. Sigrun feels no more pushback on her attempts to maintain control of it. Eventually, the creature returns back to them and stares at Sigrun with its empty sockets on its near-featureless face.
COMBAT OVER!
Sigrun pulls out her handaxe and hacks the ropes binding Ulysses. Then she falls against the wall and slides down, staring numbly at the gore-slicked hallway full of corpses. She has never shied away from a fight, but this is the first time she's participated in the death of other intelligent beings. She is decidedly not a fan.
"I know there's a lot of temple left to explore, but... can we go? I need to bathe."
Melech slumps against the wall and takes a minute to recover. Then he looks at Sigrun. "Yes, we should go." He stands up straight, cracks his neck a few times, then looks at Sigrun again. His demeanor softens when he sees the distress on her face. "I did not wish to kill these people. I reserve my killing for the undead. But they gave us no choice; they would have killed us all. I do not regret it." He looks down at the decapitated body of Khelru. "It's too late for this one, but perhaps some of them are clinging to life. Let's check them." He goes from body to body, removing any valuables and checking for signs of life.
Ulysses thanks Sigrun for untying him, then sits up. He stares at Melech for a few seconds, then says, "You, uh, you didn't mean what you said to him, did you?" He looks up at Melech, his big eyes inquisitive.
Melech stops and looks down at Ulysses, then can't help but laugh. "No, of course not, Ulysses. I was trying to buy time for Sigrun to get control of that ankhat." He stops what he is doing, stands, and looks at Sigrun again. "Speaking of that ankhat, well done! If you hadn't done that, I think we'd be dead now."
Ulysses nods. "Okay. I thought so." He pulls out his wand. "Sigrun, before I use the wand, do you have any healing left?"
He helps Melech search in the meantime.
Sigrun doesn't look at Melech. She simply shrugs her shoulders. He's probably right, but it doesn't make her feel any better.
She perks up at the alchemist's words. "I... I think I have one more in me."
She touches Melech's shoulder again.
She slumps back down with a sigh. "That's it. That's all I got left. I need to nap for like 2 years."
Surprisingly, the mercenary Idorii survived, the only one without a vested interest in taking the temple. Velriana has bled out from her wounds, and Melech's blows killed both Khelru and Azaz outright.
Nothing eases the conscious like fat, fat lootz; you relieve the bodies of their weapons and other valuables (including the still-alive Idorii, I presume) and pile it up. The pile includes the following.
From Azaz:
- a potion of cure light wounds
- a potion of hide from undead
- a scroll of burning hands
- a scroll of identify
- a scroll of magic missile
- a scroll of shocking grasp (CL 2nd)
- wand of grease (10 charges)
- wand of vanish (9 charges)
- club
- 2 daggers
- small steel mirror
- spellbook
- spell component pouch
- wooden holy symbol of Nethys
From Idorii:
- vial of acid
- 2 vials of alchemist's fire
- +1 leather armor
- 3 chakrams
- masterwork khopesh
- kukri
- backpack
- masterwork thieves' tools
- 2 sunrods
- 5 gp
From Khelru:
- scroll of bless
- scroll of cure moderate wounds
- scroll of effortless armor
- scroll of hold person
- scroll of magic weapon
- scroll of sound burst
- wand of cure light wounds (26 charges)
- 2 alchemist's fire
- 2 holy water
- scale mail
- masterwork quarterstaff
- sling with 14 bullets
- everburning torch
- spell component pouch
- wooden holy symbol of Nethys
- 29 gp
From Velriana:
- alluring golden apple
- scroll of charm person
- scroll of magic missile
- wand of scorching ray (6 charges)
- wand of shield (9 charges)
- dagger
- light crossbow with 10 bolts
- +1 bracers of armor
- ioun torch
- backpack
- silver holy symbol of Nethys
- signet ring
- spellbook
- spell component pouch
The ring bears the seal of House Hypaxes, a minor noble house in Taldor. Now that you see its crest, you recall reading somewhere about the house, one of dozens who choke the upper echelons of Taldan society in their endless court intrigues. It is not a terribly noteworthy family, though you do know they're more known for their devotion to Abadar than Nethys; Velriana seems to have been an outlier of some sort.
Ulysses studies the ring for a moment while sorting through the loot. "This ring is of House Hypaxes. Maybe we should pay them a visit."
He hands the wand of cure light wounds to Sigrun. "You should take this. I already have one." He sorts through the other scrolls and wands. "Can you use any of these? I can use most with some luck, but you should take the ones you know how to use."
Then he goes about healing up Melech and Sigrun.
Sigrun waves him off after the second wand tap. "That's plenty. Thanks."
She shakes her head at most of the scrolls. "I honestly don't know. Some of them I could probably use, but most of these attack spells are out of my wheelhouse. My magic tends to be a bit more subtle. Or at least not so fiery."
She looks uncertainly at the wand Ulysses offers, then takes it with a sigh and sticks it in her belt.
Melech pulls out his any-tool and fashions it into manacles, then binds Idorii's hands and sits her up against the wall. He nods to Ulysses.
Idorii rises to consciousness after the first tap of the wand. She blinks as she looks around at her surroundings, then jolts upright and tries to stand, but the manacles binding her wrists trip her up and she flops back down.
She takes a calming breath and sits up against the wall, looking at the carnage around her.
"You clearly have no qualms with killing, and I have nothing to offer that you haven't surely pilfered from my person already. So I gotta ask: why am I still alive?"
Melech nods. "Yes, I have no qualms with killing people that are trying to kill me. You are a mercenary, same as me, so don't pretend you aren't exactly the same. We just happen to be paid by two opposing forces this time. The next, we might find ourselves fighting side by side." He pauses, realizing he should have figured out how he wanted to play this before waking her up. "I bear you no ill will. As far as I'm concerned, you can walk away. We will be keeping your things, of course, but I am not unreasonable: if there is anything we took that has sentimental value, you may have it back once I am satisfied that we are not going to continue to try to kill each other. All I need is for you to tell me what you know of Velriana and why she was so hellbent on killing us. What was she seeking in this temple?"
He draws his falchion and holds it point-down at his side. "And before you take the tough guy route, remember what I am and what I did to them." He gestures with the sword to the heads he left in various states of unlife.
Idorii snorts at the "tough guy" line. "Boys and their 'tough guy' crap." She shakes her head, then glances at the corpses again. "I liked Khelru. Had a good head on his shoulders. Damn shame. He never wanted to go along with Velriana's pact with Dakota. Felt it was shady. But she's the boss, you know?"
Idorii considers for a moment, then shrugs. "Dakota said he paid somebody to slip your team the temple. Velriana asked why he couldn't just have it given to us, but he was adamant on getting you here. That's when he sprung it on Velriana what he wanted from her. He wanted the gnome alive. She let it slip she'd hired those Silver Chain guys to waylay you, and Dakota was furious. The two argued; guess you heard that part. When I spotted the gnome, she sent me after him to quiet him before he could reach you. You know the rest."
She considers the final question for a moment before shaking her head. "Far as I know she wasn't seeking anything in particular, but she was pretty hell-bent on finding this place. She was convinced she had more right to it than anybody else, given that she and the others were devoted to Nethys. I mean, you gotta admit she has a--had a point. Pharasma's people may hold sway over the tombs in this necropolis, but this isn't a crypt. This is a temple. That's like Pharasma telling Nethys He's got no say in his own house of worship." She shrugs. "But it makes no difference to me. I followed orders, and I got paid." She pauses, then sighs dejectedly. "Well, I was supposed to, anyway."
She considers the gore-soaked hallway for a minute. "Look, you say we might have been allies in different circumstances, but I dunno. I still don't get why I'm alive. If you wanted answers, Velriana would have had more of them than me." She shrugs. "That's all I got. I'd very much like to have my khopesh and kukri back. They don't have sentimental value, but I have no money. The khopesh I can sell for some cash to get out of Wati, and the kukri will keep me from being a sitting duck if someone tries to kill me."
"You are still alive because you got lucky, simple as that. I don't pull punches in a fight when my life and my friends' lives are on the line, but I'm not going to murder survivors unless they force my hand." He pulls out her khopesh and kukri from the pile of gear and hands them to Ulysses. "Now. Before we return these to you, do you swear on your honor that you mean us no harm?"
Idorii laughs. "I'm a mercenary, man. Through and through. I don't have honor. I keep my word to my employer and see my contracts through, but that's just good business sense, not honor. But I'm not going to attack you or your friends. You guys slaughtered us wholesale, I'd be a special kind of idiot to try anything." She offers up her manacled hands inquisitively.
Sigrun watches Idorii intently, paying particular attention to vocal patterns and tone. After all of it, she shrugs at Melech. "She's telling the truth, so far as I can tell."
Melech nods at Sigrun. "You do what you say you're going to do. That's honor." He helps Idorii to her feet. "I'll remove the binds and return your weapons once we are outside the temple."
He turns to the others. "Let's go."
Ulysses follows the others, awkwardly carrying the weapons that were made for a much larger person.
You exit the temple unscathed. Handing the khopesh and kukri back to Idorii, she sheathes the weapons. She looks about to say something, sighs, and shrugs. "So long. Meaning no offense, but I pray we never meet again." She walks out into the early afternoon sun, slips down an alleyway, and vanishes from sight.
You stand in the sweltering early-summer heat as you stare at the empty, silent streets of Wati's Dead City. It feels somehow... emptier than it did when you went into the Sanctum of the Erudite Eye. It's likely just a trick of your imagination, but there feels a sense of omen across the ruined, sand-struck buildings of the ancient city.
There are no birds circling overhead. Even at the height of day, you can normally see one or two falcons or buzzards in the sky over Wati, sometimes a wren or flycatcher. Right now, there is nothing. It almost feels as if they are hiding from a predator, which is especially disconcerting since both buzzards and falcons are birds of prey.
Ulysses watches Idorii walk away. He hadn't really given it much thought before, but he is glad that Melech let her live. Odd how circumstances can change a would-be ally into an enemy (or vice versa).
"Let's head back, but be on your guard. Something doesn't feel right." He heads toward the Necropolis gate, keeping a keen eye out for trouble.
You arrive at the gates unscathed. The crowds have still not gathered again since the incident yesterday. You return to the Tooth and Hookah; the place feels a little emptier than yesterday. Some have not returned from the necropolis for the day; others will not return alive. The exploration has taken a toll both on its participants, and on the city itself. It's hard to say yet what the long-term effects on either will be.
Sigrun, in a moment of uncharacteristic introversion, quietly excuses herself from the others and heads directly to her room.
Melech orders whatever is cooking today and an ale, then sits down with Ulysses. "If you want me to keep working with you, you're going to need to tell me what was worth so much to Dakota that he would go through all that trouble to get it."
Ulysses sighs. "That's fair." He takes a deep breath and a deeper drink of his ale. "A while back, a mining union hired me to research new explosive techniques. During this work, I stumbled upon an ancient and forgotten formula for an unknown -- and powerful -- type of bomb. I also discovered that the union wasn't actually who they said they were and would likely have killed me to get the formula. So I ran. Since then, I have suspected that the union was actually an Aspis Consortium front, and Dakota essentially confirmed that for me today."
"The what consortium?"
"Aspis. Long story, but I can sum them up as the 'Bad Pathfinder Society'."
Melech scowls. "Great. So you've dragged me into a fight against a powerful evil organization. Two more questions. Why should I stay with you? And where is the formula now?"
Ulysses nods, then thinks a few moments. "I can't think of a good reason for you to stay, other than to help me keep a dangerous organization from getting their hands on something so powerful. Something they will surely use to further their schemes. As for where the formula is now..." Ulysses stops and looks around the very public room. "Not here. Let's go upstairs."
Melech looks down at his food that he had been pushing around. He shrugs, downs his drink, stands, and drops a few silver on the table. "Might as well. Turns out I wasn't hungry anyway."
He follows Ulysses to the gnome's room.
Once safely in his room, Ulysses confides in Melech. "The formula was for a type of explosive I was interested in one day studying further, but I have so many other things I want to learn first. Once I knew someone was willing to kill for it, I knew I had to destroy it. So I memorized it and burned the original." When Melech's eyes go wide, Ulysses holds his hand up. "I'm not naive enough to think that I would remember a complex formula for years. Before I destroyed it, I encoded it using a personal cipher, split it into four parts, and hid them in... separate places."
"Where?"
Ulysses shakes his head. "I have told you enough. It is best if you don't know exactly where they are. Dakota threatened to torture me. If they use magical means, it is best that you do not know."
Melech sighs, then nods. "So this Aspis Consortium knows that you are here and unlikely to leave. No reason why Dakota wouldn't gather up a bunch of his evil organization buddies to grab you -- and probably me -- and torture it out of us. Since I won't know, they'll have no reason to keep me alive. Same as you once they get what they want."
He stands and paces around the room, absentmindedly touching the various alchemical equipment strewn across every surface. Ulysses cringes a few times but keeps his mouth shut. After a minute, Melech stops. "Okay. Aspis likely thinks that I am involved at this point, so staying with you doesn't pose any additional danger to me. So we have two choices: flee again, and try to find a way to make a living while staying out of Aspis's sight; or choose to make our stand here. Maybe you tell them you destroyed it and that will be the end of it, but somehow I doubt it."
Ulysses nods. "Okay. We stay. For what it's worth, thank you."
Melech grunts, but nods. "I suppose I'd be unhappy if they killed you. Plus, that Dakota a#+$!$* has a comeuppance that needs to be delivered." He rubs his eyes. "It's been a long day. I'm going to bed. You need to think about how much to tell Sigrun. If she stays with us, you are putting her in danger as well."
Ulysses removes his goggles and squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. Night."
Melech leaves. After making sure the door is securely locked, Ulysses passes out on top of the still made bed.
You awaken more or less refreshed, though your minds are heavy with the revelations of the day before. When you head downstairs, there is no sign of Sigrun. The bartender hands you a small bundle with a scroll attached. "Left this for you," he grunts. He doesn't say who; he figures you probably already know. Unfurling the piece of parchment, there is a note scrawled in sharp, clumsy handwriting.
I think you probably guessed this was coming. I'm sorry, but I've just seen too many deaths in this desert hellscape to stay. I don't want to blame you for Khelru and Azaz; I know, logically, you were right, and that it was kill-or-be-killed. But I can't stop thinking about what Idorii said, and wondering if we could have talked it out. I'm all for a fight, but I have never killed another human being before, and frankly when my axe came down on Velriana's neck I felt an intense relief when it turned out to simply be an image. You guys seem to come up against a lot of people in your battles. Monsters I can do. People... I guess I can't.
I kept a couple of the scrolls for my trouble, but I think you'll be needing the things in here more than me. I'm headed back to the Linnorm Kingdoms to return to my bardic college. Maybe some time in contemplation will clear my head. Good luck in the necropolis.
Sigrun
Inside the pack is the wand of cure light wounds and all the scrolls she'd been given with the exception of the scrolls of soundburst and charm person. There is also a small pouch with 100 gold, perhaps in compensation for the scrolls.
Once again, you find yourselves short to complete the task ahead. You could certainly try your luck just the two of you--three, if one of you can figure out how to take control of the ankhat--or you can see who would be willing to join your group for a day.
Melech crumples the parchment in frustration. "Dammit. She left." He stares off at nothing for a few moments, then back at Ulysses. "Maybe she is the smart one." He has to fight the urge to smash everything around him with his flail.
Instead, he looks at the barkeep. "Give me all the bacon and eggs you have."
He didn't eat much for dinner last night, so he is ravenously hungry this morning. After filling his belly, his mood improves considerably (to merely annoyed). "We were already short-handed with three people. We need to find someone to help us, preferably someone with magical knowledge that can control that ankhat."
"I know a good deal about magic. I can't cast it, but I have done quite a bit of study; there is a fine line between alchemy and magic, and sometimes one bleeds over that line into the other. I don't know the nature of the ankhat's control spell, but I might be able to figure it out." He looks up at the grumpy big man, scowling down at him. "But, you're right, let's try to find someone."
He approaches the barkeep. "Do you know of any groups that are down to only one or two members? We find ourselves in need."
The barkeep glances around meaningfully. You notice now that the hookah bar is surprisingly spare, with a few regulars and only a couple of adventurer-seeming types still in attendance. Mad Dog and his brothers are nowhere to be seen; perhaps they finished their sites, or perhaps they finally perished. You could certainly ask one of them, but most of them look half-dead or woefully inexperienced.
Turning back to the barkeep, he shrugs. "Try the church maybe. Could be someone there. Or one of the other inns." He glances at you as he says it, then goes back to washing mugs. You are distinctly reminded you were involved in a rather destructive barfight only three days ago. Or was it four...?
At least you still have a room for one more night.
As you are contemplating your predicament, a slight, filthy Osirian boy no older than eight or nine tugs on Melech's pant leg. He looks a little terrified of you--you probably cleaned off Khelru's blood as best you could, but you're still dressed in weighty armor and carrying a massive sword--and holds a scroll up to you. "M-message, lord." He looks equal parts terrified and in awe of you. He also seems to be waiting for something.
Melech takes the scroll, pulls out two copper, and hands them to the boy. Then he looks at the boy's unwashed state and gives him two more. "Thanks. Go get a bath."
He reads the scroll.
The boy snatches up the coppers with a hasty "thankyousir!" and darts off.
You unfurl the scroll, which bears an official Pharasmin seal. That is odd enough, but the note within is even more odd.
Mssrs. Kusafisha and Cogkettle,
Things have come to light which require your immediate attention. I have been instructed to say no more of this, and it is requested you keep this missive and meeting private for the moment. I expect to see you shortly and thank you in advance for your discretion.
--Sebti, High Priestess of the Grand Mausoleum
Melech feels a grin spread on his face. He isn't sure exactly why, but this feels big. It feels important.
Or she could be planning to arrest them for killing Velriana and her minions. Self defense is difficult to argue when there were no witnesses.
In any case, he wasn't particularly keen on returning to that temple, so if this is a way to avoid that, he will count it as a win.
He fetches Ulysses, pays the barkeep for breakfast, and they head out.
That impending sense of importance does not diminish as the pair arrive at the steps of the Grand Mausoleum, though Ulysses still feels that itching sensation of something being off. As you cross the plaza known as the Golden Lake, the sacred albino crocodiles are out in full force; apparently it's feeding time. For some reason, though, the priests of Wadjet who tend to the crocodiles are sending people away.
The crocodiles look riled up; this is entirely out of character for them. The sacred crocodiles are not only well-tended, but well-fed. They are some of the most docile and lazy creatures in Osirion, thanks to the fact that they never need to hunt. There has not been a crocodile attack from the gold-lined pools that house the ablino crocs in recent memory. The fact that they are clearly agitated means something is... off.
A priest greets you near the entrance and leads you into the cathedral, taking you down a long hallway marked INFIRMARY. At the end of this hall, past several doors leading into long rooms with rows and rows of beds (quite a few of them occupied by adventurers in varying states of dying from septic wounds or curses laid by traps and gods know what else), he leads you to a partially-closed door into a private recovery room. Three voices can be heard arguing inside, heatedly but not loudly.
"... not going to see him. He would never forgive me for this." The voice sounds familiar, which gives Ulysses a little shiver. Last time that happened, it was Dakota-nee-Filibus arguing with Velriana bout trying to capture him.
"Don't be a fool, he deserves to know." This voice is also familiar, but only vaguely.
A feminine voice chimes in. "... his choice, Ptemenib."
"Yes, but given it's a foolish choice, I feel the need to point it out to him." The female voice starts to speak but Ptemenib cuts her off. "We have guests outside."
The acolyte leading you clears his throat. "The guests he requested."
"Yes!" the first voice says weakly. "Yes. Come in."
You step into a somewhat spacious but spare room, with two beds, one of which is unoccupied. Dark curtains hang from the room's two windows, billowing just enough to let in a little breeze but keeping the room somewhat dim. A lamp on the wall opposite the beds provides a bit more illumination. Sebti the Crocodile and the priest you met once previously, Ptemenib, stand on either side of the bed. Ptemenib looks irritated, and Sebti looks tired with a slight frown, but her eyes sparkle in a way you would not expect from a woman of such poise.
Sitting up in the bed, looking sick and pale, with a thin sheen of sweat, but decidedly very very not dead, is a familiar face.