You were sent to the Sothis lodge in Osirion, the Sandswept Hall, and anticipate your assignment any day now. The lodge is a two-story converted prison constructed from limestone bricks. Two stone statues of sphinxes flank the entryway, and the doors are reinforced with copper. Tranquil gardens surround the lodge, separating it from the bustle of the busy Osirion capital.
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Grammy Thistledown, an elderly female half-orc sits back in a chair as if dead, the only movement coming from her wrist as she fans herself with a novelty paper fan. Her hide armor is hanging on the chair behind her as she has stripped down to modest clothes to try and beat the heat.
"I dunno . . . how anyone . . . lives in this place. Too hot durin' the day, too cold at night. Even mighty plants have a hard time growin' Not a single blade of grass to be seen, just these . . . whatchacallim . . . These whispy little tree things. Acacia I think a local called them. Oh how I long for Lastwall."
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Jig wanders in to the Sandswept Lodge. Unlike last time you say him, he has a crocodile skull on his head that he's wearing as a hat. The base of the skull is decorated with black feathers.
"Yes, this is a weird place, Granny." He nods his chin and the skull bounces down over his eyes.
"This big talking dog just took my gun away and told me it was 'making my heart too heavy.' He told me I have to hunt ghosts or he's going to bury me in feathers."
The goblin looks confused for a moment. "I'm almost sure it was something like that."
The shaded gardens outside the Sandswept Hall provide a welcome respite from the sweltering midday sun. Venture- Captain Norden Balentiir reaches up to one of the date palms overhead, pulling down a bunch of ripe fruit to share with the table. “They’re good for much more than shade, my friends. But I did not call you here to enjoy my garden. A few months ago, I finally received confirmation that we would be able to execute one of the last excavation permits issued by the Osiriani government. The site is a desert location where the dunes have shifted, revealing the beginnings of a staircase leading down beneath the sands.
“The Osiriani government is protective of its cultural history, and with recent changes in their stance on allowing foreign archaeologists to work inside their borders, I wasn’t sure this permit would even stand. The bureaucracy was rather slow this time around, but it turns out we were approved before they stopped issuing permits. I’ve already secured your provisions, including camels, tents, food, water, tools to perform the excavation, and a map to the site. As you know, it may take many weeks to clear the site of debris. The desert can be unforgiving, so don’t hesitate to return here to rest as needed.
“The government has already sent guards to oversee the site and protect against any potential thieves. Remember—keeping up a good reputation in Osirion is vital to the Pathfinder Society’s continued presence here. Don’t antagonize the guards.”
"As I said, I've secured provisions: plenty of food and water but not that many figs," Balentiir says with a chuckle. "You should purchase anything specific or niche that you need prior to heading out into the desert."
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A thin man carrying a plethora of books that don't look like they should all fit in his bag joins you. His shirt is covered in sweat stains from the heat as he mops his brow. "Found you. An excavation huh? We could find all kinds of cool things in there." He shakes his now empty canteen. "We will need more water though."
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Savan pants lightly in the heat. "Yes, I think we all need to stay hydrated." The geniekin had hoped his heritage would protect him from the sweltering heat, but it would seem he doesn't quite have enough ifriti blood. Still, his fur takes on a reddish tinge, reacting to the desert heat.
"Weeks of this heat?" He sighs. "Well, that should be fun. Let's get to the site and see what we can do to speed this up."
"Fear not. You'll be provisioned with plenty of water," the Venture-Captain reassures you. "I recommend traveling in the early morning and late day, camping during the hottest and coldest parts of the day."
Heeding Venture-Captain Balentiir's advice, the journey to the archaeological site is uneventful. You find the ruin partially excavated. A stairway has been revealed, and a canvas fence has been erected around it to keep the sand from blowing back down into it.
A guard sits under a tarp, humming to himself. Two other guards nap nearby in the shade as well as four camels. The watching guard rises as you approach and steps out of the shade. "Are you more Pathfinders? You must be the lazy ones, waiting until after all the hard work has been done by your colleagues," he chastises you.
"You Pathfinders arrived a month ago and only finished digging out the entrance a few days ago," the guard says. "They've already left for Sothis. Your lead archaeologist is down there currently. I'm sure he'll have plenty to say to you about your tardiness."
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Another catfolk joins the group. He appears worn and exhausted, having rushed to catch up to the group.
"Apologies for delaying. I took a wrong turn as I was trying to find you. I am called Kanbashii Tora, but you may simply call my Bashii."
He notices Savan and is elated to see another catfolk as himself. "Well met. I notice you fancy the long boom weapons. I am more attuned to prowling quietly and using silence to catch my ... ehm ... prey..."
"More Pathfinders? Wait, you mean someone else came before us? There must be some mistake."
"No. We serve the Ruby Prince and the city of Sothis," he answers. "We are here to ensure the Pathfinder Society treats our nation's history with respect and does not plunder our ancient culture for profit."
"I know that the permit was legitimately issued," the guard replies coolly. "If you don't have any other questions?" He glances back at the shaded spot he left.
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Grammy's eyebrow twitches as she clearly almost decides to berate the guy but gets her emotions under control at the last minute.
"No, what I'm saying is that we just got the permit A FEW DAYS AGO. And if these so-called airquote Pathfinders unairquote have been digging for a month than . . . unless my simple math is way off, they were digging for around 27 days without a permit. Now I'm willing to bet for now that they duped you and you are not willingly aiding and abetting these clear criminals, but I think we should be doing something about those guys no? Because we are the first actual team the pathfinders have sent."
She also draws out her wayfinder to prove she's a pathfinder.
"Yes. That looks exactly like the head archaeologist... something Kline. Anyhow, your poorly concealed snub aside, produce your permit, please," the guard says with a forced neutrality.
The guard takes the permit and looks it over thoroughly--not the overly thorough way of a bureaucrat trying to exert his authority but in the way of a person to takes their responsibility seriously--before handing it back to you. "Yes, this permit is in order. Head on down," he says. "Whatever confusion you have within your Society, you can sort it out with the lead archaeologist."
A ten-foot wide staircase leads into the ruin. Sandy dust covers the floor. Dim light trickles into the chamber from above. Beyond you can see flickering dim light. Several of the pillars in this once-grand entryway have collapsed. The statues around its edges depict scarab beetles.
Savan knows that the scarabs are common iconography on tombs and other places associated with death.
As you head into the next hall, there is a click under Grammy's foot and a rumble that gives a short warning before a stone slab falls out of the ceiling, crashing toward Grammy's head.
Grammy comes to her senses feeling battered and sore. The path forward is now blocked by a heavy--as the half-orc can attest--slab of stone.
Kanbashii finds the pressure plate that Grammy stepped on. There does not seem to be an automated reset procedure, and there are no other pressure plates or signs of other traps around.
To move forward, you must find a way to move the stone slab out of your way.
It takes a while for you to coordinate yourselves and force the slab back into the ceiling. Maybe one or more of you had the forethought to bring a crowbar in order to make the job slightly but appreciably easier.
On the other side, braziers burn and shed dim light through the halls. A hall intersects with this hall. To the left is an apparent dead end, and to the right a T-intersection and a pair of double stone doors. Directly in front of you on the other side of this first intersection is a pair of stone doors.
After careful inspection, you open these first doors. Inside is a grand shrine with a ten-foot tall statue of man in ancient Osirion garb with the head of a sha--magical canine hunters of the desert--holding a brazier that glows with burning coals.
Moving on to the T-intersection, you have your choice of the large double doors at the end of the hall, a smaller hall to the left that makes another left hand turn but also has a smaller door at the end, and smaller hall to the right that makes a right hand turn but has a smaller door along the right hand wall.
Maybe the wind has stirred the dust too much--or maybe ghosts are playing tricks--but Grammy can glean no clue where the 'lead archaeologist' might have gone.
The doors have no locking mechanism, and Savan finds no sign of ancient traps. He pulls the doors open to reveal a wide room with three large, round pits in the floor. Each pit is lined with a dried, powdery residue.
Standing on the far side of the room, investigating the residue in one of the pits is a youthful Osirion man in blue adventurer's clothes. A wayfinder hangs around his neck. He looks up as the doors swing open.
"Ah! More help has arrived?" he says, standing and dusting off his hands.
"I am surprised you don't recognize me! I am the famous Durvin Kline, pioneer among explorers of the Azlanti ruins, discoverer of a long lost serpent folk city," he says with a bit of a sniff. "Are you sure that you're Pathfinders?"
Before you can express any offense, he raises a hand and laughs. "I kid. I kid. I could use help exploring these ruins and cataloguing. If you brought any pots with you, this residue is not as inert as it seems and could prove to be a valuable alchemical ingredient. Otherwise, I have not explored the east or west halls. There are surely many artifacts to catalogue."
"I didn't dig alone. No!" he chuckles. "I appreciate the compliment to my physique that you think that I could excavate this site with only my own two hands. I sent the rest of the crew back a few days ago for some well deserved rest and relaxation in Sothis. I must have forgotten that they were sending a second team."
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Bashii gets in "Durvin"'s face and growls "The famous Pathfinder I know is Eando Kline. Are you sure you're for real? Even Pathfinder rookies know this."
Bashii flexes his claws in front of the "famous" Pathfinder's face.
"Now, forgive me Mr. Kline, an old woman gets confused sometimes, but we were told that . . . while permission to excavate had been issued some months back . . . it had gone through some bureaucratic rigamarole and we only just received confirmation last week. Now, considering you've been here for a month, that's three weeks before you could have possibly known we got permission from the government to excavate here . . . see where an old lady gets confused?"
She holds up the dig cite papers and points to the "Received by Sothis Lodge on" {last week's date}.
As Bashii and Grammy confront the man claiming to be Durvin Kline, famous archeologist, his face shifts first to one of defiance and then one of fear as the shadows flicker on the wall for just a moment. "Listen! There are dangers here. Terrible dangers! You've got to get out--."
Suddenly, the light vanishes, even the magical light on Grammy's staff and Bashii's wayfinder. Even those with darkvision can see nothing but blackness. It only lasts for a few seconds and then the light returns to normal.
Durvin Kline or whatever his real name is, is covered in long, many-legged bugs. He gets out the beginnings of a scream before so many of the creatures swarm over him that the sound is lost. A blink of an eye later, the mass falls back to the floor having left nothing but bones.
Then the swarm surges toward Grammy and Bashii! The centipedes get into every crevice and gap in their armor and clothes, pinching and biting.
From the Darkness! Round 1.Bold may act.
Swarm of Crawlies
Fynn
Bashii (-13 hp) (Poison Stage 2 Fortitude DC 20 vs. d8 poison, Flat-footed, Clumsy 1)
Jig
Grammy (-11 hp) (Poison Stage 2 DC 20 vs. d8 poison, Flat-footed, Clumsy 1)
Savan
The centipedes inexplicably scatter out of the way of the lightning arc.
Grammy feels her vitality withering under the effects of the dozen venomous centipede bites, but moments later Jig calls upon his deity's power to bolster her. Savan fires his musket into the skittering mass, leaving a few splattered on the ground. The accompanying fire and acid on his shots seems to have relatively more effect.
From the Darkness! Round 1.Bold may act.
Swarm of Crawlies (-5 hp)
Fynn
Bashii (-13 hp) (Poison Stage 2 Fortitude DC 20 vs. d8 poison, Flat-footed, Clumsy 1)
Jig
Grammy (-4 hp) (Poison Stage 2, Flat-footed, Clumsy 1)
Savan
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Fynn grabs a longspear from his pack and begins trying to skewer what bugs he can as he looks for a weak point. "They are everywhere!"
Target within 15' of Fynn attacked by the target of his exploit vulnerability gains Resistance 3 against the attack.
HP 17/17
AC 17
Hero Points 2/3