Golarion changed forever. A nearby star exploded, causing a major ice age. Most races either perished, or migrated deep underground or found other planets to escape to. In any case, only the human race seems to have survived. Knowledge of magic was lost, as humans continued to fight each other for few resources, and it was a very dark time. Strangely, though, borders of nations largely remained, as did many of the cultures each had formed. Throughout the years, very little knowledge remained of the other ancient races, and what does exist is considered mythology by most. The old gods are remembered as stories that simpler minds used to explain the unknown, such as science. While religions remain, there are few and most of those believe in a single deity, although there is much variation in those beliefs.
Historic Timeline:
Year 4783. The event. Golarion was devastated.
Years 4784-5150, the Darkest times. People were rather barbaric and warlike, weapons still very primitive. Resources were scarce, but the world was melting and life again became abundant. Much knowledge was lost as libraries were burned and ransacked, strength and greed ruled over intelligence and wisdom.
Years - 5150 - 5250. The Renaissance. A turning point in our history, as religion helped bring some semblance of order, restoring hope and interest in more thoughtful pursuits. Art and literature became revered, and most cultures began to restore their flavor through holidays, architecture, stories, and even occasionally recovered artifacts and lost cities.
Year 5049. Irrisen barbarians, under the command of Lord Baron Khana Dystra, conquer the rest of the most northern nations including the lands of the Linnorm Kings and the realm of the Mammoth Lord. Varisian clans were well organized and held their own lands, and the Worldwound never really did recover, so offered little of interest. To the conquering hoard.
Years 5250-5400. Human knowledge embraced and excelled the study of sciences. Most cultures excelled, although at different rates and in different areas of expertise. Nations formed governments, those governments formed trade agreements. Sciences became popular, as did adventure as humans again regained their desire to explore, expand and discover. Archaeology becomes a passion for many, as the search for the past hints at lost treasures, both of gold and history, but also something hidden - magical forces that the world once knew. And, of course, some desired power, as is too often the case with the human race.
Years 5410-5412 - Chelliax rises to power. Under the leadership of Grand Marshall Adenoid Hynkel, Chelliax excels in the science of military might. They invade nearby Nidal, Molthune and Isgar, adding their lands and people to their own. Nirmathas also falls, but the line to the north is stopped by stubborn resistance in the aptly named Lastwall, and the prideful Varisans who manage to broker a tentative peace through promising annual tributes to avoid full conquest. Andoran also manages to hold the line, creating a great army at the border, convincing Cheliax to end its designs on the country.
Years 5412-5413. Rahadoum conquers Thuvia in order to plunder its riches. Thuvia was much slower to recover than many other nations, and proved to be little resistance. Keeper Geoclinda Malduoni has seized control of what used to be a loose republic, failing to abdicate his position when his term was up. He now rules with an iron fist. He claims to be of the bloodline of an ancient Keeper, and a few recovered documents seem to back him enough that many of the populace consider him a near god, and are extremely loyal. His interest in additional historical data to further his claims have become a passion. Rahadoum, however, suffers from a weaker military, and so their designs on other neighboring countries have been delayed due to lack of resources. They spend the next few years with expeditions to the north land of Irrisen, forging alliances and trade agreements between the two very different nations. They have also expanded into the less populated regions to the south Sodden Lands, as well as the Mediogalti Islands.
5420-5421. Cheliax moves again to increase their power. After years of tentative peace, Cheliax invades Andoran, whose military has waned. Adoran sent emissaries to Varisan, Qadira and Absalom, but no formal aide was forthcoming and Andoran was quickly occupied. While there are patches of resistance, the Chelaxian military is prevalent throughout the country and brutal in their approach to dealing with rebels. Absalom shores up its own borders, having both a strong navy and being the only country to have air support with large airships/blimps. But they claim themselves neutral and have reached a non-aggression pact with Cheliax and Radahoum.
Year 5421. Today. Grand Marshall Hynkel now has become obsessed with the occult. Keeper Malduoni is obsessed with ancient magic. The two have met and become friendly, both setting their sights on Osiron as a likely holder of ancient secrets. Troops from both nations have entered the country, and the weak Osiron government has allowed them to do so, thanks to many bribes and promises that truly only benefit the Osiron leadership. While the soldiers of these governments have no official power, they are feared and respected by the locals who have a tendency to try to simply roll with whoever appears to be in charge… which is very rarely any of them.
Taldor was considering a formal alliance with Andoran prior to the occupation, but they delayed too long. Popular opinion varied between supporting the buffer and staying more isolationist, but troops are now stationed on their border. Qadira, for now, is trying to ignore the war, but are in negotiations with Taldor for a more formal alliance. Despite the ancient history of Qadira and Taldor being at war, the last few hundred years have seen them as strong trade partners. Far away countries of the North have already pledged to support this alliance, although there are still strong ties with Rahadoum as a trade partner.
Brannin sat, alone, tinkering with his arm. It was acting up again. Usually it only hurt when it was cold, which had been a major point in coming so far south. Putting his tools down he lifted the constructed arm and made a fist. It was, in all respects, a miracle of modern alchemical technology. To replace a lost limb had the potential to change the world. It was just too bad that he was the only volunteer who both survived the surgery and had full use of the limb. Progress, they had called it. He stuck a finger in his ear to make it stop ringing, bringing temporary relief. He knew that he should be grateful, given how much better off he was compared to his friends. Frowning, he brushed his long, unwashed hair out of his face and reached for a drink.
Cardshark sat behind a crate he was using as a desk, papers were strewn on it. He looked up at the man in front of him.
Sure, sure, I have your order here. he smiled as he indicates a wagon behind him, loaded with more crates.
The man says yes. Did you include the...extra items?
Cardshark smile grew wider, if possible
Oh, yes. I aim to provide satisfaction.
Coin surreptitiously changed hands. The wagon was taken away.
Cardshark turned to one of the men near him, dividing the money quickly. He looked at the setting sun.take this to the captain I'm going for a drink. Cheers.
Standing up, he pulled his old overcoat over his shoulders. The desert air was becoming chilly. Some drink would be nice. It had been a good day. As he walked off, he tapped his revolver. Never hurts to be careful.
Olivia hums absentmindedly as she walks down the street. It was a beautiful day, and she could have sworn that the bird that was flying overhead was a Spix's Macaw. She'll have to make a note of that later, there's only a few of them left. It had taken days for her to get all the way out here in the boonies, but if the rumors were true, then it would all have been worth it. T
hey said that Mad Surtra had sold his annotated copy of the Necronomicon to pay off his gambling debts. After that, it had disappeared for 50 years, but Olivia was confident that she had finally tracked down the elusive tome.
She smiles, oblivious to the stares that the attractive, if dusty from the road, woman was gathering. The sun was shining, a rare bird had been spotted, and an even rarer book was going to be found. This was looking like a great day.
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Seven years ago, Sahid Khemet, the President of Osiron, formally opened Osiron's ancient tombs and burial sites to foreign explorers. It has drawn both private adventuring companies and government sponsored exploration teams. This policy has attracted not only explorers to the desert nation of Osirion, but also countless scholars, private collectors, special interest groups, and financial interests from all across the Inner Sea. A minor industry has sprung up just to support visiting explorers, and an even larger infrastructure has come into being to serve foreign investors and traders. Every opening of a major site has heralded an economic boom, for the local area and Osirion as a whole.
For one reason or another, in large part to these policies, you have found yourself the city of Wati, where the Asp and Crook Rivers converge to form the River Sphinx in southeastern Osirion.
A new site, the necropolis of Wati, has just been opened for exploration. The Knights of Pharasma, a local charity organization, has been tasked with assigning sites ready for exploration to adventuring companies in a lottery.
Olivia Harding was sent from her library to recruit an expedition team to participate in this lottery. She, of course, called on her old friend Lucian Brachtarna, to organize a local team, which includes Edgar and Cardshark. Shortly after arriving in Wati, she noticed an old veteran, Brannin Dowtry, with a very unusual arm and decided to buy the man a few drinks. She looses track of time, though, and starts to make excuses so she can meet her friends when the thought occurs to her that maybe this man needs a job, and might come in handy as well.
(Edgar's post above is from some time - a few months? - ago, and would lead into the bar-fight Olivia mentioned in her original character background. He met Lucian at an earlier point in the flashback, when Lucian gave him a ride back to a town after the desert ambush. This would have been in another part of the boondocks. Since then the two of them have offered him a lifeline in terms of acquaintance and potential work, which is helpful as otherwise he'd still be drinking himself into a slow death in random parts of Osirion. He's glad to be part of the team, especially as he's not entirely convinced the Chelaxian officers he tangled with have really been transferred to the fronts in Avistan. Having an official role is useful protection.)
Seeing Lucian, Edgar gives a short nod and makes his way across the bar toward where the Katapeshi adventurer is heading. He's walking with extra purpose, something must be up. As he approaches the table, he notices the man's prosthetic arm and inwardly winces in impressed sympathy. He's seen combat, and can only imagine the fortitude required to survive not only losing one's arm, but the process of attaching a new one.
He hears Lucian's compliment and straightens up a bit, though his lingering injuries still limit his range of motion. "Glad you think so," he says, pulling up a chair opposite the others and looking around the bar. "Who are you expecting to fight?"
Who have you got? Cardshark laughs Just kidding, the only thing I want to fight is a drink He pulls up a chair and sits, signalling to the servers.
Cardshark looks at the Chelaxian soldiers and frowns, then shrugs.
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"Brannin." The man said, giving a slight nod of his head to Lucian. He eyed the man. Looks like he's ready for a fight. He thought, noticing the rifle, the bandolier full of ammo, and the very large club. And isn't afraid to show it. He followed the introductions, keeping a level eye on everyone. His favorite saying was 'Always be polite, and have a plan for killing every person you meet.' It had served him well. He shook his head when asked if he had seen Ms. Harding yet. Though when he heard Edgar ask if a fight was expected, his hand fell down towards his hip on it's own occurred, ready to pull out his revolver if needed. He did his best to keep his face neutral as he scanned the place, relaxing at Cardshark's response. He 'tks'd' at himself for being so jumpy.
Cardshark pulls out a pack of cards and starts playing solitaire. And loses.
"Sorry about that!" A cheery voice, slightly out of breath, cuts through the seedy atmosphere of the bar. Heads turn to see that Olivia had come bursting in and barreled straight into a waitress. The pretty young woman offered a hand to help the waitress to her feet. "I'll cover any cost. I do hope I haven't got you into any trouble!"
Olivia approaches the group. "Sorry I'm late, but I assure you I have a good reason!. Have you been introduced to each other yet?"
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As Edgar looks up at the new arrival, his eyes widen a little bit as they always do when they compare Olivia to her Osirian surroundings. He keeps wondering, What’s a real Varisian lady like her doing here? His mind drifts back a moment to his school days. Dress her in the fancy fashions of a decade prior, and she could be any number of his classmates. That was a different world. No going back, not now. Edgar shakes his head to clear visions of the past. For a moment, he sees the ruined face of the dead Riverlander suspended over him as the truck turned over. Then he’s back in the bar, scanning the room for any reaction to the lady’s arrival on the part of the Chelaxians.
Best to keep it quiet, dear lady. There are many ears here, and our prospective work is to be kept quiet, yes Cardshark offers. Je collects up the deck and puts it away. then he sips his drink
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 men and women of the Knights 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. A darkly dressed lady, with blue lips and dark toned makeup, sits behind the table, while two assistants confer with her at either side. You hear mutterings around you, and learn the people here call this woman Sebti the Crocodile.
Groups of adventures, seeing the scene unfold, start to gather around.
"You--we--are going to get one of those licenses?" Edgar quietly asks Olivia and Lucian as they move through the crowd. He takes a moment to recall the words of his old professor, "The only difference between archaeology and grave-robbing is time, and the attitude of the descendants. Or the dead, if you're unlucky." How do I remember all that now, and couldn't be bothered to write it down on the pushdug test back then? Never mind, the past is the past. The crowd is dense enough that Edgar takes extra care to frequently check his pockets and hidden weaponry, as well as keeping a weather eye on those of his companions. He knows Lucian will be cautious on that and Olivia won't, but is particularly curious to take the measure of the other two's familiarity with pickpockets and Osirian crowds.
Lucas resists the urge to rub his hands together. This could be his big break, and very profitable. He had already arranged...leave from the army for a while, so he had time to do this.
”When I’m dead I’ll be too dead to care who wears my boots.” Brannin said. ”Just because someone was rich in life, that means we’re supposed to care what his bones think?”
well said. Well said indeed.
"That was my question too. Are we certain to get one, and are there any particular good ones? And if so, is it a fair contest?"
His focus as he looks around shifts to considering the other candidate groups, if they can be told apart from the other onlookers. He adds, "And if not, anything we can or should've done to tilt things our way?"
Cardshark considered
Best we scout out the area first. Then we can decide on what gear is needed.
Is it a fair contest? Those that are holding it have a good reputation. But who really knows
"It's intent that distinguishes between grave robbing and archeology. A desire to understand, to preserve knowledge for the future. There's still so much we don't know from before the second Earthfall. Now I know the library gave me a voucher, but where did I put it..." She begins digging around in her pack, obviously looking for something.
Olivia finally finds the token she had purchased that entered her into the lottery.
Sebti the Crocodile, rises to her feet and looks over the crowd. Sebti seems surprisingly young to hold such a distinguished position, but she has a confident air of authority. After calling for silence, she begins with a brief history of the founding of the necropolis.
"Let the lottery begin! Although many of you have requested specific sites to explore, we must leave these matters to fate. 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 peace and respect for the mighty history of the city of Wati."
The group has mapped the necropolis and designated selected sites within it for exploration, dividing them into three pools, from the smallest and simplest of structures to the largest and potentially most complex. Each party of explorers is assigned three sites, one at a time, so that a group must complete its exploration of one site before gaining access to another.
After Sebti returns to her seat, the two assistants accompanying her each draw a wooden token from one of the urns on the table. The first token identifies the adventuring group, matching the token that group received when it registered for the lottery. The second token determines which tomb is assigned to that group. Eventually, Olivia's token gets called, and she is called up to get the instructions for your group.
Your first site is an actual tomb.
Also, a pamphlet outlines the rules you must follow.
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 was 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. Explorers must not desecrate or vandalize standing structures and tombs, but preserve 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.
Failure to comply with these rules can result in, but is not limited to, expulsion from the necropolis , a ban on continued exploration, seizure of recovered valuables, and arrest and prosecution by local authorities.
The gates will be opened tomorrow morning.
"Well, we got in after all," Edgar says when Olivia returns with the pamphlet. "That seemed to go smoothly." To Olivia, he adds "What do you know about the ones we were given? Any good ones?"
Reading the pamphlet, Edgar again wishes he'd paid more attention in school. Plague of Madness...must have been awful to merit its own name, among all the ills of the world. These gods at least have the right attitude toward bandits and criminals. He thinks back to the ambush on the highway, and anger burns in him for a moment. He smacks the pamphlet closed and hands it on to the next group member.
sounds like a plan.
Cardshark orders the barmaid in swift Osirian. She provides glasses for everyone a bottle
Cardshark pores out a finger of the potent spirits and raises his glass.
May we have an expedition that satisfies our wants. Knowledge, insight and a good bit of profit.
He swallows the drink in one gulp.
Your first assigned site is an actual tomb that predates the Plague of Madness, located in the city's original cemetery in the eastern section of the necropolis. The tomb's location is marked on a map of Wati. You should have no difficulty locating the site.
While the night is rather uneventful, you all sleep uneasy, anxious to start your day. Upon waking up and gathering your belongings, you make your way to the site.
A rectangular stone mausoleum sits alone in what appears to have once been an actual cemetery. The trunks of a few dead trees poke out of the sand around the tomb, and a hot breeze whistles through their desiccated 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.
The doors are 10 feet tall and made of solid stone, with no visible handles or hinges.
Brannin nodded. "Sounds like a decent enough plan. And these rules? Can't say I'm surprised. Loot the place, but do it nicely." With a shake of his head he continued "And they probably call her crocodile because of what happens to people who cross her." He was alright with the idea of showing up early. He was used to it afterall. Weapons draw at 0600, so chief says show up at 0500, and the squad leader says be there at 0400, and from there it's just sitting around doing nothing so as not to be late. Being in the Army had given him a very specific set of skills. Unfortunately it was the ability to sit around doing nothing for hours on end.
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Olivia arrives exactly on time for once, her face shining with excitement.
"Now remember," Olivia says worriedly, [b]"Try not to damage anything beyond repair. We really don't want to be kicked out of here on our first day, and who knows what we'll find! Try and keep our expectations low..."
Edgar went to bed uncharacteristically early to keep his head clear for the morning. Not quite sure what I'm needed for, this all seems very up-and-up, but best to be ready for anything. His dreams are mainly of home in the cold north, especially the high mountains. When he awakes, the heat and dryness leave him disoriented for a time, which does not fully dissipate until he too has had a coffee. He drinks this sitting at an outdoor cafe, and arrives a few minutes after Lucian.
On his way he takes care to look at any other sites that may be active, and notes any members of any other expeditions who might be staying where he is/having coffee at the same place. He also looks out for anyone who may be watching his movements.
Upon arrival at the team's site, Edgar nods to the others and, seeing Lucian working, takes up his own shovel and sets to work as well.
Cardshark sighs, and helps to clear sand as well
Brannin gave a half smile and turned to go pull guard duty. It was something he was used to doing, and given that it meant avoiding physical labor, was more than happy to perform. Not that he really expected anything to happen here. He figured that a show of force would be enough to make others think twice.
Cardshark notices that the doors are on concealed hinges and swing outward. There are also telltale traces of mortar along the seams and jamb that has since crumbled or been chipped away, indicating that the doors were meant to be sealed permanently and not intended to be opened again.
Maps & Handouts. You are located at the red X on the map.
You are fairly isolated from others, although not out of earshot.
Concealed hinges here and here. Looks like it swings outward.
Cardshark looks closer.
Sealed. Wasn't meant to open again. Still, looks like prybar work.
He pulls out his crowbar and looks at Olivia.
Any objections?
Before the crowbar will do you any good, you will need to remove the sand blocking the door from opening. It is about an hour of hot, sweaty work.
Once clear, we need a strength check from someone trying to use the crowbar.
Seeing Lucian struggle, Brannin stepped forward. "Mind if I give it a shot? Get ready to push when I give the word." He said. Taking the crowbar, he stepped forward, put it in position and...promptly dropped it. With a slight blush of embarrassment he picked it up and focusing did a much better job at it.
The door finally pries open.
Once they're opened, it's apparent there are no handles on the inside of the doors either. Unless otherwise noted, ceilings within the tomb are 10 feet high and rooms are unlit.
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 hieroglyphs on the walls are Ancient Osiriani and with the engravings, they describe the life of the tomb's enshrined occupant, Akhentepi, a celebrated military commander who presided over the troops garrisoned in Wati prior to the city's downfall. 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."
The spiral on the stone wheel is the symbol of Pharasma, and you recognize that two of the carved faces in the room's corners depict Pharasma.
The other two faces are the likeness of Anubis, the ancient Osirian god of burials and mummification.