Khellek's knowledge of the land makes him suspect the nest to host giant scorpions. While normally giant scorpions would be solitary hunters, small colonies of the same brood are possible, and this looks like a nest of a scorpion brood.
After 10 minutes of spellcasting, Irizati determines there to be a large nest of a particularly strong breed of giant scorpions. Eight in total, to be exact. They've exhausted nearly all other edible creatures in the near vicinity, and would most likely find the pathfinders just snacks.
The group cleverly avoids the oasis and instead camps in the dunes. Thanks to their magic skills, they don't risk being cold during the night, or lack water.
They take turns standing guard during the night, albeit nothing happens in the vast desert. No nightly predators, no lost merchants, or thieving desert nomads. As morning breaks, the pathfinders get to continue towards the tomb.
On the third day, they are already so close Irizati has no trouble leading them there. Between the ever-rolling dunes of sand is a small patch of soft pink sandstone, a ravine, like a crack in the desert floor. Broad, worn stairs lead down 40 feet deep, at the base of which is an opening, an entrance in the cliff face. There is a host of nine camels, tethered to iron spikes driven into the floor just outside the entrance.
So far no magic in the vicinity. Only the desolate, silent desert around you.
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Each morning before we leave Irizati has been casting Greater Magic Fang on himself and Balooo and Longstrider on himself. All using the lesser extend rod.
Irizati tends to the camels at least giving them water. If we found some food on the way he will give that to them as well.
"Maybe they were followed by bandits."
The entrance is approximately 10 feet wide, and is itself a series of columns leading to a simple stone door that stands open. The columns bear numerous carvings praising the accomplishments of Alkhet Utmari, the Merchant Prince. Save Khellek, everyone notices that the number seven holds a great deal of significance, but in all such arrangements, Alkhet is always in the highest position.
The camels fight over the water. Apparently they haven't been given food or water for several weeks.
Upon closer look it appears three of the camels belonged to the Pathfinders, and all bear brands marking them as belonging to one particular camel dealer in Sothis whom the Society frequently deals with. The six other camels have different gear and markings. Clearly two different groups have arrived here.
All camels have saddlebags. They all hold mundane equipment, but one has a journal. Nothing much is revealed in it, other than the writer is Thuvian.
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Once the camels are tended to as best as possible and any useful gear from the saddlebags are gathers Irizati examines the entrance way and sighs.
"I hope it opens up further in."
He passes out his consumable gear and instructions on how to activate the wands.
"The undead come in many forms. Even incorporeal. I suggest Mage Armor for us all. You may use my wand. I'll go in first followed by Tere then Baloo."
Irizati isn't transforming yet.
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"Well, at least we know the scorpions didn't get them. Surely they would not have left the camels behind."
Khellek nods at the wisdom of Irizati. "Good thinking." he agrees.
He shakes the wand a couple of times. "I think I remember how to use these.."
Staring into the darkness, the scholar activates the light on his wayfinder.
"Slowly and carefully is the way to go. I suggest we get a stick to tap for pits and such. This tomb has consumed nine extra bodies in recent days. That should be a warning to us."
Cool silence greets you as you descend the stairs into the ancient tomb. At their base is a spacious chamber with a large sandstone altar at its center. Set into the walls are four smaller altars, surrounded by ancient writing, each one a little different from the last. On the opposite side of the room are a pair of corridors leading off into darkness and a larger hallway, ending in a great stone door. A trio of rods are slotted into the altar in the center of the room.
At the center of the room is a sandstone altar. On top of it are fours holes, of which three are occupied by scepters at the moment. One hole is square, one circular, one triangular, and one rectangular. A simple inscription here in ancient Osiriani reads,
“Everything in its proper place—such is the Wisdom of Alkhet, the Merchant Prince.”
Scepter of Osomi: This scepter is made of one large shard of ebony, studded with tiny rubies, and capped by platinum rings. The narrow end of this scepter is triangular. It resided on the northeast altar, which is made of similar materials. The altar bears the name Osomi in ancient Osiriani along with the following inscription: “For my beloved Osomi, the last love of my long life.”
Scepter of Kiranna: This scepter is made of iron, lined with long grooves of silver that converge on a diamond tip. The narrow end of this scepter is perfectly square. It resided on the southeast altar, which is made of similar materials. The altar bears the name Kiranna in ancient Osiriani along with the following inscription: “For Kiranna, my right hand, my fifth, the one who brought order.”
Scepter of Shasha: This scepter is made of copper, with precious pearls spiraling around its surface. The narrow end of this scepter is circular. It resided on the northwest altar, which is made of similar materials. The altar bears the name Shasha in ancient Osiriani along with the following inscription: “For Shasha, my third wife, who taught me to always seek the best in life.”
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The elf gladly accepts the mage armor. "I've fought wraiths before. It would have been good to have this spell then."
Tere draws his curve blade with scarcely a sound. "Let me go near the front--I can see in the dark."
The sceptered altar gives him pause, though. "Is there a fourth scepter, do you suppose? The other Pathfinders, and whoever is also here with them, left these three behind. Khellek, what does the writing over the smaller altars say?"
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Khellek nods at the suggestion.
"I suspect this was a challenge of some type. I also suggest we avoid removing any of those scepters until we know what we are dealing with. Interesting geometric relationship between the wives and the scepters..." he notes.
"Seventh wife - three sides, Fifth wife four sides, third wife one side. I wonder how many sides his first wife had to her. " he muses. "Well, her scepter has anyway. Any why honour these ones here?"
He gazes at the other altars, but avoids approaching them until the others have declared the way clear of traps.
"Before we go in, I have some preparations to make..."
The pathfinders don't find anything that would suggest a trap in the hall. Just that it continue into three different corridors.
The one of the left seems to lead into small chamber.
The middle corridor has a closed double door, though it doesn't seem to be airtight, leaving a small gap underneath the doors.
Corridor to the right seems to lead deeper, with stairs going down.
Tere and Irizati both see that there was a lot of activity in the this hall, and all of them have gone into the chamber beyond the closed double doors.
The left corridor ends in a [u]small chamber[/u], dominated by an altar at its center. Atop the sandstone altar is a row of five silver trays, each one larger than the last. On the side of the altar, a simple inscription in ancient Osiriani.
Irizati notices that the silver trays hold a magical trap. Placing whatever needs to be placed on top of the trays in a wrong order will trigger the trap.
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"Hmm... I'm not sure if this refers to his wives or something else but.."
Khellek clears his throat as he translates the ancient inscriptions into Taldane.
"The final five combined did not weigh upon me as heavily as the first"
He looks over at Irizati. "Presumably we need to put five things in the trays, in order. "
He glances back at the first room. "Perhaps the wives scepters? They seem to be an ongoing theme here. Interesting."
He ponders for a bit on the symbolism of the scepters.
"I suggest we want to find the others. We know where numbers three and five are."
The trays are big enough for scepters to be placed in them.
All but Khellek hear faint speech coming from the direction of the double doors.
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"Are you sure?" asks Khellek suspiciously. "I heard nothing..."
From which it is possible to conclude that the level of chatter in Khellek's history classes is not something that bothers him.
"What are they saying? Take care though, if it is spirts, they may seek to cloud your mid through their babble. I met one such spirit in these deserts a few years ago.."
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"Remember, they may not be hostile... they could be our missing pathfinders." reminds the scholar, as he scambers to a safer position toward the back.
Then, almost in counter to his own words he takes the crossbow that hangs on his belt and unclips it. Fumbling around, the scholar eventually finds his quiver of bolts, and snaps one into place.
"But rest assured, if they are not friendly, then Bessie here will look after you."
Carved into the gigantic stone doors' surface is a pair of figures holding aloft a throne, on which is seated a man of regal bearing. In one hand, he holds a scepter, in the other, a merchant boat. Beneath the carving of the throne, a pair of narrow holes in the door let through a flickering light.
A woman’s voice calls out from beyond the door. “I was wondering when someone else would show up.”
"Explorers who almost stumbled to their demise," the woman answers with a sigh, "we were attacked shortly after we arrived, were forced to retreat to this chamber, and then the aggressors sealed us here, thinking we'd starve to death. Luckily for us, we have means to provide sustenance till time takes its toll on us."
"We have one of the scepters here, which should go to the center altar. We can give it to you under this door if you promise us to let us leave this place alive, alright?"