Brannin looked around and sniffed, making a face which showed his distaste for the musty tomb. ”Hope there’s something worth looting here.” He said, while looking at the pictures on the walls.
Edgar looks into the tomb and shrugs. Just the dust of ages, it looks like. At least in here. At least it hasn't been looted before, by the look of the floor. He turns to Olivia. Do these wall carvings mean anything to you, and should we go on ahead in?
Edgar takes a look around outside to see that no one is watching/interfering with the team’s equipment. Safe to bring stuff inside? he asks Lucian. Returning to the inside chamber, he considers the only thing in there he recognizes, the spiral in the wheel. At least there’s something familiar in here. Those ancient foreign gods give Edgar the willies. Who knows what they’re capable of?
Ancient curses, pfft. Cardshark says. [b]Don't think much of gods.[b]
"Curses are as real as elves" Brannin said. "Stories people make up to explain what they don't understand. The only thing we need worry about is accidently breaking something and getting charged for it." After a moment he added "That someone from the outside trying to take us out before we can earn what is ours."
Elves used to be real, Edgar says to Brannin. How sure are you the Second Earthfall did for these like it did for all that stuff back home? That said, you’re right that more mundane dangers are a bigger risk.
Lucian doesn't see much else in the room, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees an almost transparent scorpion come in the door behind you, racing for Edgar!
”Elves? You really believe in that nonsense?” Brannin said, drawing his revolver. A single shot rang out, as the bullet went straight into the emerging ghost scorpion from one side and out the other. ”I don’t believe in ghost stories. Enough sh!t is real without making things worse in our heads. Things like that scorpion which was there.” He finished, gesturing at the remains of the ghost scorpion.
And there are very few remains, indeed!
Edgar draws his kukri and prepares to defend himself, only slightly relaxing as the scorpion drops. Don’t believe in ghosts? Shot one well enough just now. . He looks at the remains. Think that’s a warning? Undeterred, he begins shifting any of the party’s things into the antechamber. His eyes keep going back to the wheel with Pharasma’s spiral on it. See if that thing still works? Looks like it was meant to turn.
Cardshark has his pistol out.
good shooting.
He continues the prior conversation
The next thing you are going to say is there are dwarves and orcs here. Or a dragon. Ha!
Then he considers
Actually I could sell a dragon for a pretty penny. Pity they are just stories. And I gave up believing those a long time ago.
Seeing Lucian get to work, Edgar will also help try and turn the wheel.
Damnnit, slipped! Edgar steps aside, cursing under his breath.
His muscles straining, Brannin happily chatted as he worked. Firearms in general were one of the few topics he was truly interested in. As the topic moved to the supernatural, he said with strained voice ”...used to pretend to be a dwarf when I was a kid. Always loved the stories about the little beaded men of the mountains.”
Lucien and Edgar struggle with the wheel until Brannin steps up and makes it look effortless (although it did take all three of you to move it).
It opens the way into another chamber.
This square room is starkly devoid of any markings or adornment. In the center of the chamber's floor, a square shaft drops straight down into darkness. A faint musty odor rises from the pit. A single piton has been hammered into the stone floor by the northeast corner of the pit, and a dusty length of rope dangles from the piton into the darkness of the shaft.
Edgar moves to stand next to the pit and looks down at the falling torch. He’s got his machete in hand, but shifts to his boarding axe as the prospect of climbing presents itself. Maybe the last one who climbed out just left it there, he suggests. There isn’t any other place to go, really.
Good thing I’m not claustrophobic. In fact, it’s comforting to be in such a simple space. Nothing to look out for but what’s in front of you, or behind. The clarity of the situation appeals to Edgar, and he looks around to the others to see if they are showing any fear or hesitation.
Olivia, who had been squinting at the ruins jumps at the sound of the gunshot, startled back to reality. "No... elves definitely were real... some people still claim ancestry to them, but if that was true their blood would be diluted beyond notice by this point. For all we know, we might all be of elven descent."
Once the wheel had been moved out of the way: "Well! D'you want me to go down first? I don't mind, and I'll be the easiest to haul back out in a hurry."
Edgar shakes his head, moving himself to the top of the rope. Blast if I let a lady take point. He peers down into the depths, kicking a bit of dust out and watching it. I’ll go, he says, hefting his boarding axe. Can get myself out in a hurry if needed. He turns to Brannin and laughs. I’ll let you know if I see any Dwarves.
Cardshark eyes the Piton and rope.
Grave robbers? Perhaps someone beat us. I mean, isn't it unlikely the original builders left this?
Thinking about it he says, We should use our own gear. This thing is likely dangerous. But at least we haven't been cursed yet. He chuckles at the last.
Edgar investigates the rope and piton, seeing how sturdy it seems, and trying to tell how old it is, as well as how securely the piton is fixed into the floor.
No idea. Curious, that. He reaches back into his pack to pull out his own rope, as he has no piton of his own in his kit.
Cardshark pulls out some pitons, rope and a hammer. He kneels and looks for a good spot for the piton to be placed. This is going to be a bit noisy. Keep watch will you.
Once he finds a good spot, he starts hammering the piton in.
It is always important to have the right supplies. This will only take a moment
Once the piton is planted, he pours a bit of alchemist glue to help fix it in place.
Cannot be too careful when it comes to ropes. I have seen what happens if one of these comes loose. Wasn't pretty. Well, I warned the fool. It will take a few minutes for this to properly set.
Expertly he ties a loop of rope onto the piton, then gets up. He then lights a cigar.
It does seem odd, climbing gear here when the door clearly had not been opened in quite some time...
The shaft drops 60 feet down to the floor of a chamber below (area A3)· The rope extends only 5 feet into the shaft before ending, having been cut at that point. The rope is thoroughly rotted and crumbles if handled.
Mirrored images of a warrior in side profile, facing inward, are carved on an ornate pair of stone doors in the west wall of this square room. The figure is depicted wearing padded armor, with a scarab-shaped shield on the arm facing the viewer, and a raised khopesh held aloft in the other. A crumpled humanoid body lies directly in front of the doors. A hint of decay hangs in the air, and a dried stain mars the stone floor under the body. A square shaft in the ceiling leads straight up into darkness. (Well, now it is lit by Lucien's torch).
DC 25 climb check to climb down, although Cardshark's new rope should help with that.
Brannin looked at the pit with some trepidation. He did not fancy the idea of climbing down without the rope. "A very good idea." He murmured, looking at the rope.
With Lucian down, Brannin went next. "Edgar, watch the rear while Lucian and I secure the landing."
I just had a nasty thought. Dead body down there, and a way too short rope. We should check for a trap at around the ten foot level
Edgar does not mind Lucian taking the lead. Especially watching the old rope crumble, and seeing the dead man at the bottom. While Brannin and Lucian go down, Edgar takes a look at the outside, and sees if he can close, or mostly close, the outside doors.
Then, when satisfied things are secure and they are unobserved, he returns to see about helping Olivia down.
Once the others are safely below, Edgar makes his own way down the rope, leaping off the bottom part and trying to land smoothly avoiding the body and any of his companions.
Looking at the dead body up close sends him into another brief reverie, but it’s been dead long enough that it registers mainly as an object. Ennas I aglar o I ambar, or something similar…that’s how we all end up. Let’s hope this person deserved it, at least. He is able to pull himself out of it after only a few moments.
Cardshark interjects about worrying about a trap a little too late... well, not really. No trap.
The body in front of the doors is mostly skeletal, with a thin layer of desiccated tissue.
The corpse's gear has suffered decades of rot and rust and is mostly unusable, though a thorough search yields a couple of metal pitons and a usable hammer, as well as two vials of alchemist's fire that have remained miraculously unbroken.
Edgar closes the outer door, at least most of the way.
"More worried about scorpions. And cave-ins." Brannin said. "Let's get the door open."
Cardshark grins. Then he slips down the rope. (take ten) Once he gets down he draws his pistol.
Once at the bottom, Edgar takes a position slightly behind and to the side of Lucian, ensuring that he's out of the man's way but still able to react to any dangers that may come through. He's switched back to a kukri, in the closer confines of the tomb, and watches the door intently.
"Traps that reset themselves are expensive to make," Olivia explains as she begins to climb down, accepting Edgar's help. "I'd expect them to be put deeper in." Once at the bottom, instead of drawing a gun, she pulls out a journal, and begins to take notes. "Open the door at your leisure gentlemen!"
Brannin determines that the door is unlocked, and pushes it open.
The walls of this ten-foot-wide corridor feature bas-relief carvings of great battles. Armies with spears and shields clash at the direction of generals, while other leaders direct troops from chariots that are ruthlessly overrunning their enemies. Engraved stone double doors stand at the other end of the hallway.
"Will you look at all of these pictures? I wonder if this means that a general was buried here." Brannin said, looking at the murals, his interested piqued. "Bloodthirsty lot." He mused. "Does seem like the sort who would trap the place." Seeing the others looking for traps, Brannin kept an eye out for more ambushing desert predators.
Cardshark appraises the artwork.
Nice. This is quite valuable, you know. I know a guy who would pay a lot for these.
Brannin shrugged. He had never dealt with such a mural before and thus had zero idea on what it would go for. He was glad though, to have someone else there who can evaluate what they found.