Two massive stone doors stand atop the short staircase, set deep within the ancient pyramid's weathered facade. The surface of each door is inscribed with fading symbols of a language lost to time.
On either side of both doors, statues of native maidens stand guard, each carved with painstaking detail. Their stoic expressions and poised stances embody both strength and grace, capturing an ancient, serene wisdom.
Each maiden wears a ceremonial headdress, adorned with carved feathers and sockets for precious stones long since stolen. Each statue also holds a stone staff close to her chest. The statues’ eyes, although mere stone, seem to watch the approaching adventurers with a silent, knowing gaze, as if challenging them to prove their worth before passing through the threshold. In the silence, the air is thick with the scent of dust and age, mingling with a faint sense of something sacred and foreboding within.
Djack steps forward respectfully towards the guardian statues.
Will you crush my skull or watch over me, Angels of the Ancients? There is something amiss, something taints this holy ground... and we seek to rectify the matter. He gulps.
Whispering, I'm taking to... walls. He admonishes himself.
Rocko pats Djack on the shoulder in reassurance.
"And there be times they listen. No harm being polite-like"
"You speak wisdom, Rocko." The elf compliments, lightly patting her undead companion. "Let us proceed with caution in mind."
Perception check from Djack, please.
Amideo looks at the statues with reverent awe, "These people were masterful sculptors."
He bows his head to the statues and places a hand on his chest, "Oh guardians of ancient days, grant us safe passage so that we might restore peace to this holy place."
Djack holds up is hand as Amideo seems poised to enter a door. Both doors, on either side, are trapped. It is some sort of magical trap tied to the statues - powerful necromantic magic. Djack thinks he can disable it, but if he doesn't, he's likely to face serious consequences, as will any nearby.
I'll try, but no point anyone other than me getting... screwed, if I fail.
Waiting for Amideo to step back a generous distance, he begins to work.
Ahh yes, hmm... Uh oh...
Djack hears a click, and the statues begin singing. The tone fluctuates up and down rapidly, but they sing out long and strong throughout. Djack fills no ill effects, and the door on the left pops open.
Not dead yet... He eyes the second door.
Djack raises a hand, One down... but, don't want to need both open and not have the time to take care of this. Besides, could hurt others.
He considers similarities, extending his senses and summoning intuition.
Djack has no problems opening the other door.
Glancing inside in the fading light, Djack sees a long, narrow room, stretching 40 feet in length and 15 feet across, with tall, sloping walls that echo the tapering structure of the pyramid. The air is dry and slightly musty, thick with the scent of ancient stone. At the center-back of the room, two massive statues stand as vigilant sentries. They are nearly 10 feet tall and carved from a dark, polished stone.
Each statue depicts a powerful warrior with the head of an eagle, beak sharp and eyes fierce, gazing out as though ready to defend against any intruder. Each holds a massive flanged club, the edges of which are carved in a jagged pattern designed to evoke both intimidation and respect.
The sun finishes setting, leaving the room in complete darkness; a light source will be needed from here on out, for any without Darkvision.
Amideo gives a slight huff, "Perhaps we retreat to the entryway and rest until day breaks? If I must hold a torch in one hand, I am to be without my sword or my shield, and I should not wish to be parted from either."
"Sounds like a plan, but what about those Ogres in the mansion? Ogres hunt at night, don't they?"
"I will keep watch for their movement with the spirits of this city, while the rest of you take your rest." She informs the group, gently reminding them of her more nocturnal nature.
Yoltzin briefly notes the noise of the Ogres leaving the mansion, grumbling loudly about the "lost" weapons the PCs hid. They go a different way, however, and no one notices anything hostile approaching during the watches.
Your dreams, sleeping on the doorstep of the temple, are weird and frightening, with shadows and half-remembered pain.
The morning of Marcha 28 is slightly chilly, but the first rays of the sun begin to warm the air quickly. The door still propped from the night before, Djack assesses it is safe to enter. Or at least, no traps will spring from entering.
Guess it's time, the young man notes. But, I can't see in the dark.
He chews on a bite of bread.
"Simple enough," Zia says, drawing a torch. She mutters a phrase that, surprisingly, Djack understands from his limited magical instruction. In seconds, the torch burns with a white light as if it held fire.
"I can cast that again as needed," she noted.
The doorway open before them, the heroes can see into the with both the natural rising sunlight and the light of the torch. You can see all corners of the room; it appears free of danger, but your party has been through enough to know appearances can be deceiving.
...Djack sees a long, narrow room, stretching 40 feet in length and 15 feet across, with tall, sloping walls that echo the tapering structure of the pyramid. The air is dry and slightly musty, thick with the scent of ancient stone. At the center-back of the room, two massive statues stand as vigilant sentries. They are nearly 10 feet tall and carved from a dark, polished stone.
Each statue depicts a powerful warrior with the head of an eagle, beak sharp and eyes fierce, gazing out as though ready to defend against any intruder. Each holds a massive flanged club, the edges of which are carved in a jagged pattern designed to evoke both intimidation and respect.
The elf flinched a bit as the internet signed magicalblights comes into being, her innate sensitivity producing the normal headaches she'd been forced to endure with her human companions. It would be nice if they were to find magic to correct their eyesight, so that they might exist fully in the darkness sometime.
Djack moves forward, with torch and rapier in hand.
Upon entering the chamber, Djack feels a sudden, oppressive heat, and faint whispers seem to echo from the stone walls. The crypt walls are inscribed with symbols of the sun and sacrifice.
Very quickly, he notices something is not right. It's not a trap, per se. Curse is not quite the right word, either. More just the nature of the room's existence.
Djack suffers 4 fire damage from what feels like a sun burning right beside him. About the same instant, his mind is overcome with visions of ancient, bloody sacrifices.
Aargh!!. It burns... from the inside. Something happened here... a resonance. Fire..
He seems to start to go weak, but flights through it. Wiping his brow.
The elf has some obvious worry from the injuries her compatriot has sustained, yet looking toward the room ahe feels it a test of Herr God to enter through. Asking the Black Dog for his mercy in silent prayer, Yoltzin strode forward without magical aid, only seeking to pass through quickly.
Yoltzin feels the heat, but manages to shrug it off without damage, though it is hellishly uncomfortable. She does not see whatever it is Djack seems to be staring at in horror.
Zia enters behind Yoltzin, but immediately succumbs to both the heat and the sacrificial visions.
Rocko calls in to Yoltzin from the doorway.
"The wall next to the statue to the left! There's light coming through a tiny crack. I can barely see it, but it's there."
Sacrifices..? Why?!! Why do they have to... die?
Yoltzin held her tongue, recognizing that and by extension Zia must've been experiencing some form of spiritually induced visions. Following Rocko's guide, she moves to where he saw the light and felt along the wall with her lithe fingers.
Yoltzin finds a release, which as soon as it is triggered causes the stone wall to swing out, making a tight opening. She can easily fit; it will be a squeeze for Rocko and Amideo.
On the other side, she sees a spiral stair made of rock, which goes down about 4 feet and leads to another wall.
Suddenly, Yoltzin feels searing pain as a magical heat wells up inside her.
Djack snaps out of the visions in time to act; he coats his armor with frost using his Ray of Frost, negating his fire damage this round.
Zia seems still taken by the sacrificial visions.
Djack looks around, having half heard Rocko's warning. What did the Gnoll ... say?
"Here- Over here, this way Djack. Grab Zia!" The elf shouts, meanwhilst her undead bison looks morosely at the small passage. It knew instinctively it'd have a very hard pushing itself through.
Djack hustles Zia over behind the statue and the two follow Yoltzin through the doorway. The others follow suit.
Rocko and Amideo both manage to pass through the chamber unscathed, and Dartaniel takes 3 fire damage.
As you crowd into the small stairwell behind the hidden door, the temperature immediately drops back to normal. Those suffering from visions in the previous room are relieved to find those visions ended, though the horrible memories remain.
Down a short stair, you come to what is (obviously, from the back) another hidden door.
Djack continues and finally shakes off the lingering effects... coming up on the door, he examines it. Holding his hand up to stop others from crowding too close.
Djack finds no trap, and easily understands the mechanism by which the door ahead is opened.
Door looks clear... not sure what's on the other side. Ready?
He slowly begins to open the door.
The door, though heavy stone, glides open at Djack's slightest push. On the other side of it, and all along the intact walls of the chamber, are shelves. Holding up Zia's light-torch, Djack sees all kinds of objects on the shelves, from ancient tools and vessels to carvings glinting of precious metals, and other carvings of wood.
At the heart of the chamber rest two stone slabs, their surfaces polished smooth yet bearing traces of ochre and gold leaf, remnants of rituals long forgotten. Offerings of clay vessels and delicate silver figurines are scattered around the larger of the two, some toppled, others undisturbed, as though left in haste. Wisps of coca leaves and charred animal bones whisper of ancient ceremonies performed to guide the departed into the afterlife.
And atop each of the slabs lies a humanoid figure, covered in woven cloth.
At two points in the walls, Djack can see cave-like exits, the roughly carved edges of the two external incursions noticed from outside. One might enter this chamber that way, though to Djack's eye, the stability of those rough hallways was dubious.
Djack stands stark still in the light cast by his borrowed and upheld torch, awaiting the reactions of his companions.
Respect for the dead... and let's hope they stay that way, right Gramms?
The elf tilts her head to the side, seeing reminiscent elements reminiscent of ceremonies she herself performs as a priestess of Xenxolotl. Trusting some of her instincts, she brushes a hand up against the charred skull figurine she wears around her neck, whispering prayers of warding.
As Yoltzin looks into the tomb, a tingling in her mind tells her something isn't right here. Suddenly, the forms on both tables rise, the funerary wrappings dropping to reveal their desiccated forms.
The main form, to whom the pyramid was probably dedicated, raises a club studded with obsidian. This one is armored in thick leather decorated with the feathers of predator birds.
The second holds only a pair of obsidian knifes.
Initiative:
Undead:
Undead 2:
Oh... mama. Djack whispers under his breath.