As the group goes about the seedy work of selling off their finds, Jolánka continues to refine her notes and sketches. She has an edifying chat with Dexia Trenziano, discussing their respective foci in Osirianology and exchanging contact information. She's a little reluctant to offer up the remnants of the cobra to Zidakeak, but she relents relatively quickly, asking only to once again exchange contact information with the gnome, explaining she may have a project in the future that his expertise would be invaluable.
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"Trenziano, I realize your kind is more used to dealing with fiends than actual people," Luke opined with the patient air of a schoolteacher before the Chelishwoman. "Now, I'm considering your offer keepin' this in mind. And hell, I respect you usin' all your little half-truths, flattery and fancy legalese in fleecing those abominations. It's the only reason I'm not real upset with you right now."
He leaned closer, one paw settling onto the funerary charms that were in contention, his brow sinking into the grim aspect of an entirely different sort of teacher: that ubiquitous disciplinarian happy to dispense his critique through a firm cane. ”But if you try to swindle us again, I’m reporting you to the local Abadarans. And you’d best know the powers here aren’t gonna give foreign entrepreneurs like us a fair shake. Those knick-knacks are worth twice that and you know it!“
They weren’t really – worth all that much, that was. And the Taldan, for his part, knew this. But they could fetch a higher price than the Osirionologist had initially offered, and such was the crude art of haggling, all knowing exaggeration and feigned outrage. One party suggested a valuation to their own advantage, one completely beyond the pale. The other reared in fury with a different price, equally ludicrous, and from there the two could approach a genuine estimate, one wounded contention at a time. It was like two armies trading blows, driving their opponents back scant feet across the battlefield one day and losing as many the other before finally settling on what would become the border of their respective lands. In this particular battle, Luke thought he had more verbal soldiers to spare than the Chelaxian.
”C’mon now. Be reasonable, yeah? Give us your best offer and the eggheads –“ he pointed to the likes of Djehuti and Jolánka ”– will give you the story behind the charms too, free of charge. You call yourself a historian, right? Well, I call that a good deal.”
The young man didn’t particularly like the theatre of such negotiations, direct as he was. Even so, if these were the rules of the game, he’d play to best of his ability.
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Almost overnight, Amal goes from running on his last pennies to having pocketed more money than he's ever earned in his life. The thought makes it kind of delirious.
It's not that he wasn't used to witnessing obscene amounts of wealth, but whatever pocket money he was given once a while absolutely pales in comparison to the near thousand gold coins he got on his first job. What could he possibly buy with that?
Armor. He did need better armor. A better armor, and a better shield. Healing potions, maybe? The possibilities were endless.
He finds himself warming up to the idea that maybe it would have been a shame for Akhentepi's fortune to be buried with him all those years, instead of being redistributed amongst the living. Not that it would actually make the people of Wati any less poor, but perhaps with a donation...
No, that would only make him feel better.
Why did money come with such dilemmas? The possibilities of spending it on stuff were endless.
Dexia, much to Luke's chagrin, did enjoy the theatrics of the bargaining. She seemed quite pleased with his efforts, pushing him to push back. However, in the end she did concede to his prices, blowing him a kiss after promising to pay handsomely for the restored tapestries . Dexia had a much more civil discussion with Jolánka concerning their fields of interest, happily exchanging notes and referencing the journals of obscure professors and explorers. She gave the address of her temporary residence in Wati and had her halfling porters carry her prizes.
The others were presented with their shares of coin, busying themselves with planning purchases for the remaining two sites and potential hazards.
The next day sees Ra rise once again - as he has for untold millennia - over the sands of Osirion and the ancient Half-City of Wati. The party, having rested from their first foray into the necropolis and meeting with several parties with varied intensities of interest in the Ruby Prince's decree to open the most ancient of ruins and tombs to adventurers, wake in time to either commune with their gods, meditate on their tomes or items, or sharpen their weapons.
Headed to the first floor of the Tooth and Hookah, they are welcomed by a fresh breakfast of hearty fish curry and flat breads. The miniature mascot is heard splashing in his well, making those odd noises of contentment as Farhaan fed the dwarfish crocodile scraps of fish from his meal preparations. He greets the party - and his other guests - with gusto.
However long the party takes to break their fasts, they will find more general goods stores open in the Sunburst, finding a wide array of mundane items for purchase. Marwanun will seek out the Vulture Court should you take too long in returning to the Grand Mausoleum.
It was a night well slept. The physical weariness from their adventure in the tomb lulled Senemheb into deep sleep, despite of the excitement of the things to come. So he wakes up early on the next morning - rather unusual for a late night reader such as he, and sits on the breakfast table with good appetite.
"Good morning, friends." he wishes, between mouthfuls of flatbread and dates. "What do you think will be our target today?"
"Another tomb. We know so little about who is interred in the necropolis it's impossible to tell who." Djehuti enjoys the hearty breakfast and shopping, ready to continue on to the next mission.
"And we've already taken our first step towards correcting that." Jolánka adds. "I think we learned quite a lot about Akhentepi and who he was from his resting place. How any of us feel about that notwithstanding."
She shoots an aside glance to Luke.
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Djedefre rises early enough to travel to the Temple of Ra for the official morning observances. He also wished to be in this holy place as he calls upon the divine power of Ra to repair and restore the ancient tapestry to its former glory. He also knew the kitchens would prepare extra food to be presented to Ra, and the other deities of the Ancient Osirion pantheon, as an offering and thanks.
After multiple prayers to Ra the tapestry is in notably better condition.
"It's a shame to sell such a piece of history and art but a deal is a deal. Perhaps someone will appreciate it as much as a native of Wati would or be inspired by it."
He carefully places the tapestry in a papyrus wrapping to protect the delicate colors from Ra's sunbeams and walks back to the Tooth and Hookah to meet with his new compatriots and present them the refurbished tapestry.
Handing it to Luke, "Your contact should be pleased with her purchase. Although not as vibrant as it would've been when new it's in much better condition. Praise be to Ra!"
"If it's another tomb we'll need to remember what we lacked yesterday and purchase it today before proceeding."
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Djedefre makes sure the others have a chance to review the tapestry to see if they arrive at the same conclusion. He's hoping so to prove he was paying attention to Djehuti, Senemheb, and Jolanka when they were fine-tuning his learning of both Ancient and modern Osiriani.
"It appears Akhentepi's family fell victim to a disease while he was away, no signs of foul play or magic involved or mentioned. Akhentepi returned to the heartbreaking news, delivered by a cleric to Pharasma, who later became his mistress and began to bring Pharasmin faith and iconography into his household. That would explain the presence of the Pharasmin symbols in his tomb."
"I think we learned quite a lot about Akhentepi and who he was from his resting place. How any of us feel about that notwithstanding."
She shoots an aside glance to Luke.
The pale eyes answered hers in turn, furrowed and looking all the more ridiculous for it glaring over a bowl of fish curry. "The man was an ass, yes," Luke nodded in a pragmatic tone of voice only somewhat obscured by the mouthful around which it had to navigate. "And frankly, I question the validity of any dissertation of yours that doesn't include this verifiable fact."
Verified in every cut, scrape and bruise. What good was a historical biography that couldn't call out its subject for the scum he'd been? Call a spade a spade. There was a time for hedging one's words, sure, yet those times were very few indeed in the Taldan's mind. Meeting the future in-laws and funerals, mostly. Plain speak was the first line of defense against incompetence and tyranny both. It wasn't without reason that his own home country knew no biography but the fawning kind...
The empty bowl was set aside with a satisfied sigh. It wasn't that Luke was particularly bitter at Akhentepi, anyway. No, he'd slept soundly, no thought of the old general interrupting his well-earned rest. The guy was in the dirt, his grave goods were scattered to every corner of the market, and his parting brand was erased. What did the young man have to linger on? Mission accomplished. Right now, sitting among the many treasure seekers of the Tooth & Hookah, his thoughts were more so on the next such mission. The purse secured away in his pack had room for more gold yet.
Although not all that much more. The group's first payday had been greater than anticipated. A visit to the Abadarans this morning could be worthwhile, he mused; deposit all that gold into his bank account. That made two churches he had to endure today. Bleh, Luke didn't particularly like Abadarans or Pharasmins...
Still. They certainly had their use. On the topic of cuts, scrapes and bruises, yesterday's had been the first foray he'd returned from without all three. Djedefre's healing really was a miracle. "That symbol there refers to disease, right?" he remarked over the wise heads examining the cleric's tapestry. "But it's pronounced like... 'oasis'? ...You really have the most horrid language. I'm choosing to interpret that as Akhentepi fell into a lake and caught a deathly cold, the idiot. Don't any of you dare to correct me."
The foreigner left after thanking Farhaan for the meal - in Osiriani at that, however broken. He had some shopping to do before their next excursion.
"Thank you for repairing the tapestry, Djedefre. It looks great now. And yes, that appears to be the history of Akhentepi"
But Senemheb's admiration of the ancient item is interrupted by a familiar voice - as is a habit for the foreigner.
"They're not pronounced the same at all, Luke. Only one with untrained ears might thinks so." he reprimands, and follows by repeating each of the words slow and over-pronounced (and still they sound pretty much the same).
"See - not the same at all!"
--
After this short lesson into Osiriani, Senemheb follows Amal to the blackship, and continues from there to the marketplace.
"Kam vargti mokantis kalbos, jei viskas, ko ją naudosi, tai menkinti tą kalbą ja kalbantiems žmonėms?" Jolánka mutters under her breath. "Kruvinas nepilnamečių kultūrinis postringavimas šūdas."
"Bloody juvenile cultural posturing s#@%head."
Djehuti, as they are wont to do, avoids participating in the conflict by doodling in their notebook.
"Kam vargti mokantis kalbos, jei viskas, ko ją naudosi, tai menkinti tą kalbą ja kalbantiems žmonėms?" Jolánka mutters under her breath. "Kruvinas nepilnamečių kultūrinis postringavimas šūdas."
"Hah! Careful, Coliukė," the foreigner chided through a grin, as inured to slurs as a pig to mud. "Even on foreign shores, you never know who can follow your native twaddle. I might not have caught every word of that, but I am a damn polyglot when it comes to curses. You ašilas."
Far from offended, the young man appeared - much like the previous day - genuinely amused at Jolánka's insults. For what were some barbs between friends? Or comrades, anyway. Nothing but affirmations, really. Taking and doling proverbial (even literal) punches was the the foundation of male bonding from playground onwards. And Luke? Luke hadn't done much growing up since first vying for his seat on the seesaw.
With a final, very reciprocal, Varisian insult to the dame - If I'm a camel's backside, then you really are a stubborn ass - he sauntered through the door. Wati's streets were busy even at this early hour, and the foreigner navigated them only slowly. The visit to the local bank was as brief as the Abadaran clerks allowed for, followed by a quick visit to the markets. There a weapons dealer sitting in a tent full of enough sharp metal to end the Blood War threw in a new string for the ancient bow if the stranger bought some of his more niche arrows.
These errands completed, Luke looked to the sky. More specifically, he looked to the spires shearing that sky: Pharamsa's church was the group's next destination. Making his way there, he saw - not coincidentally - other members of the Vulture Court fresh from their own market trips. They had all agreed to meet at the Pharasmins' for their next site. My, Senemheb and Amal appeared rather more well armed.
"Expecting trouble?" he asked by way of greeting the pair, nodding to their newly sharpened and reinforced gear.
[dice=Linguistics]1d20 + 4
Stocking up on goods, the Vulture Court goes south from the Sunburst to the Grand Mausoleum. Marwanun greets you and accompanies the party to the urn holding the possible lottery sites.
"Looks like you lot are ready for whatever we might draw." She says with a grin. She approaches the desk and speaks to the cleric sitting there before sticking her hand into the urn. The more perceptive of you can hear the tiles clattering within the urn. A moment later, your handler withdraws a tile.
"The House of Pentheru." She says aloud. She is handed a papyrus and she marks the location on your map of the necropolis. "This one we know a bit more about than your last site. The two Pentherus were minor nobles charged with overseeing the surrounding farmlands. The Elder Pentheru started construction of the estate, finished by his son, Pentheru the Younger. It is believed the entire household fell during the Plague of Madness, family, staff, and slaves alike. There's some rumors about the place, enough to keep folks from going inside the estate ever since."
As Marwanun is explaining the next site, that woman with the purple suit and wide-brimmed hat storms into the chamber with a sweating Garundi man in Pharasmin clerical garb on her heels. The woman ignores the Vulture Court and slams her palms on the table.
"This is an outrage!" She barks in flawless comtemporary Osiriani. "First a brothel, now a tannery? I am more than willing to pay for the location I ask from you."
"We are all bound by the rules of the lottery, Madame Hypaxes." The cleric manning the urn calmly spoke, not even looking up from recording groups and their assigned locations. "We cannot afford to make exceptions."
"Damn you and your reliance on defunct fate." The Taldan spat in her native tongue, turning on her heel to acknowledge the party. "You." She points at Luke, speaking in Taldane. "Have you heard of or come across the Erudite Eye?"
"Are all people of Taldor so irritable?" Senemheb says, more an observation than a real question to anyone. But looking at the woman and Luke - they do share certain aura of bad manners.
While he is interested to hear Marwanun's answer to Djedefre's question, that will probably have to wait until this Madame Hypaxes is dealt with. From her question to Luke, it seems her group is after something specific here. Senemheb closes his eyes, and travels back to all the books he has read - to recall anything about this Erudite Eye.
"You." She points at Luke, speaking in Taldane. "Have you heard of or come across the Erudite Eye?"
”Is that an Opparan pub?” the fellow countryman queried by way of answer, dismissively.
And a dismissal it was, he not at all appreciating the haughty woman’s tone. The bright eyes darkened beneath his sinking brow. Senemheb might liken the two of them, two rude foreigners cut from the same cloth. Yet while Luke wasn’t about to correct that innocuous remark, he’d protest if pressed. The supercilious air hanging about this “madame”, thick as a cloud of flies, was that of entitlement and superiority, the prerogative of the privileged. Where that privilege stemmed from, whether blood or station, he could not say. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was how it riled him something fierce. The young man had run out of patience for Taldor’s privileged few before he was old enough to drink.
The hypocrisy of him getting annoyed at another foreigner being rude to the native population was of course lost on simple Luke. Even so, if confronted with this double standard, he would reject the notion of their conduct being in any way equivalent and vehemently so! This Hypaxes was seemingly criticising the Pharasmins for failing to cater to her interests. The tomb robber criticised them for being craven sycophants who chose tonguing the pharaoh’s feet over their own faith. Not at all the same. No, he would not hear any argument as to ‘political concessions’, ‘sensible compromises’ or similar spineless nonsense! People should stand for what they believe in, even if – especially if! – this meant standing up to The Man.
This Erudite Eye, though… Luke had brushed aside the woman’s question reflexively, but considered it seriously the next moment. Not that he’d tell her regardless, but had he ever heard something like this mentioned?
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Amal thinks for a second of reminding the woman that if she genuinely wanted to ask a private question in a foreign language, it would be best not to choose the one that most people in the world could speak and understand.
While the Taldane woman is making a fool of herself, he turns back to Marwanun. "Can you please tell us a little bit about the rumours?" he asks in his accented Taldane, completely ignoring the foreigner.
Djehuti ignores the rude, shouting woman but nods approvingly at Luke's dismissive response.
While not much remains in regards to cold hard facts, there are stories and rumors that powerful magical artifacts were sealed within the Sanctum for safekeeping. What these items were or how many varies, but your family once had reached out to the Grand Mausoleum to ask permission to investigate the site, respecting their refusal but noting its location and outward state. You know where the temple is/how to reach it, but you feel no urge to inform the violet clad Taldan woman of this.
Marwanun ignores Hypaxes and continues to speak to her party. "Things like lights and shadows, sounds, things going in and out. Nothing confirmed, but with known pockets of monsters and undead we are inclined to believe something might have taken up residence within. I'd prepare for anything."
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Nodding to Marwanun, "Indeed at the Temple of Ra we always hear tales of the unsettled dead roaming the Necropolis. What manner of monsters could survive in such a place though?"
[ooc]More a rhetorical question. :)]/ooc]
To his fellow Vulture Court members, "Have we purchased all we need? I bought a dog sled to use for transporting our equipment. If someone strong"
Djedefre eyes Luke and Amal...
"is willing to pull the sled I can push it to assist them."
Hypaxes' words raise a faint recollection, a fragment of memory from a book long time ago.
While the others pump more information from Marwanun, Senemheb turns towards the Taldan woman. "Are you looking for the Sanctum of the Erudite Eye?" he asks in clear, but accented, Taldan.
"What is your interest in the plague-ridden temple?"
Djehuti frowns at Marwanun's description. "Lights going in and out? Like will o' wisps?" The elf looks over at their companions. "Those are quite dangerous, if that is the case."
While the others pump more information from Marwanun, Senemheb turns towards the Taldan woman. "Are you looking for the Sanctum of the Erudite Eye?" he asks in clear, but accented, Taldan.
"What is your interest in the plague-ridden temple?"
The elf is focused on Marwanun but this catches their attention, though they do not want to react too forcefully. Wryly they quip over their shoulder "Wouldn't every building in the necropolis be plague-ridden, strictly speaking?"
Jolánka listens quietly about this "Erudite Eye" and raises and eyebrow. Was this some oblique reference to the Palatine Eye? Some local offshoot of Aldus Canter's teachings?
"Ab Sek, Abet Sahu," she says. "Once mine, always yours." The native Osiriani speakers will recognize the phrase as their language, but an oddly archaic version of it. If this foreigner had been initiated into the Esoteric Order, however, she would know to repeat the phrase back as a greeting.
Upon hearing Senemheb describe a "Sanctum" of the Erudite Eye, a physical place, her countenance falls a bit. This woman probably was not a fellow initiate. Just another pushy tomb-robber with no respect for the people whose tombs she was robbing...at least Luke seemed more mellow than this woman.
"Indeed at the Temple of Ra we always hear tales of the unsettled dead roaming the Necropolis. What manner of monsters could survive in such a place though?"
Rhetorical or otherwise, Luke answered the question even if his low murmur was more so intended for himself as well. ”Something that hates people enough to prefer the dead. Something capable enough to handle those dead when they wake.”
A something like that sounded pretty dangerous, a something best avoided. Of course, this was pure conjecture on the young man’s part and he knew it. Speculation based on anxious hearsay & rumour was like a brewer making a distillation of vinegar: the result could only ever be sour. Still, there was a case to be made for imagining the worst possible scenario. Fretful hands prepared for disaster. Assuming the worst was how people stayed alive. This was especially true in their business.
Such assumptions found fertile soil in knowledgeable Senemheb’s revelation on the nature of the ‘Eye’. ”An old temple?” Well, that followed. Places of power invited the powerful, benevolent and benighted both. It wasn’t without reason that most churches were fortified and heavily guarded. An abandoned place of worship in the Necropolis now playing home to some manner of ghoulies made perfect sense. Which was to say, it surely made sense enough in the addled brain of whatever beast roamed there.
This wasn’t Luke's primary takeaway from the exchange, however. ”Are we to understand,” he queried of the woman, ”that you have your eye set on a particular site in the Necropolis? What, do you have intel on a good score there?” Renewed interest lent a dull gleam, like that of gold, to the sceptical gaze. He wasn’t about to trek there on his lonesome, stealing whatever prize this Hypaxes intended for herself. No point in provocation, especially not with the Vulture Court having at least two more sites of their own to explore. For once, there was plenty of pickings for everyone. But the tomb robber was always interested in potential leads.
As the group engaged with the irate woman, Djehuti busied themselves with reorganizing their belt pouch. They would share what they knew later, out of earshot of this woman and her threatening companions.
"I do, countryman." Hypaxes addresses Luke fully. "And I am ... willing to compensate for any information you or your associates may possess."
"That isn't legal-" The Taldan's handler wrung his hands helplessly.
"Nowhere in the rules does it state adventuring parties cannot exchange information." Hypaxes glares at the Pharasmins around them, then steps closer to whisper to Luke and Senemheb - the only other one to address her interest. "There is to be a party of sorts at the Tooth and Hookah for any groups that survived their first site. If you happen on any information find my coterie there." Hypaxes then leaves, dust kicked up by the pronounced yet still practical heels of her boots.
Marwanun didn't seem to catch the Taldans' exchange, instead trying to recall specifics regarding what might be inhabiting the house.
"Unfortunately, this is all hearsay. Reports from observations include the expected vermin, voices and 'hot spots', and thin humanoid shadows, along with sights of something small and winged flying in and out of the estate on new moons or overcast nights."
"Wait!" Jolánka calls to Hypaxes. "Who should we be asking for in this hypothetical group?"
"Wait!" Jolánka calls to Hypaxes. "Who should we be asking for in this hypothetical group?"
"Velriana Hypaxes of the Scorched Hand!" The woman calls over her shoulder. Then she's gone.
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"I do, countryman." Hypaxes addresses Luke fully. "And I am ... willing to compensate for any information you or your associates may possess."
"That isn't legal-" The Taldan's handler wrung his hands helplessly.
"Nowhere in the rules does it state adventuring parties cannot exchange information." Hypaxes glares at the Pharasmins around them, then steps closer to whisper to Luke and Senemheb - the only other one to address her interest. "There is to be a party of sorts at the Tooth and Hookah for any groups that survived their first site. If you happen on any information find my coterie there." Hypaxes then leaves, dust kicked up by the pronounced yet still practical heels of her boots.
Marwanun didn't seem to catch the Taldans' exchange, instead trying to recall specifics regarding what might be inhabiting the house.
[dice=GM Screen]1d20+6
"Unfortunately, this is all hearsay. Reports from observations include the expected vermin, voices and 'hot spots', and thin humanoid shadows, along with sights of something small and winged flying in and out of the estate on new moons or overcast nights."
Djedefre notes the interaction between the two and bides his time.
When Velriana finally storms out of the room he turns to Senemheb and asks, "So what do you know about this Sanctum she is looking for?"
To the others, "'Humanoid shadows eh? That definitely sounds like undead. A small and winged creature flying around? Any ideas?"
"That isn't legal-" The Taldan's handler wrung his hands helplessly.
"Nowhere in the rules does it state adventuring parties cannot exchange information." Hypaxes glares at the Pharasmins around them...
"Yeah, shut up, you," the other Taldan concurred, not sparing the poor priest a glance in dismissing him. Luke didn't have the most favorable impression of the madame, but he was infinitely more interested in this supposed treasure trove of hers than the Pharasmins' impotent 'rules'. What were the god botherers going to do? Report the pharaoh's money-spinners to the pharaoh? Yeah, right.
Predictably, she didn't have much to share, however. Quite the opposite in fact.
She's willing to pay for info from us?
Information gathering for other explorers wasn't exactly what the young man had come here for. No, he was the explorer. Still, a little side venture had its merit, as long as it didn't interrupt the group's own expeditions. Of course, this was all a moot point anyway seeing as Luke didn't know the first thing about this Eye place.
It was Senemheb who seemingly harbored some knowledge of the site, and so it was to him the foreigner looked as Hypaxes sauntered away. "I do believe," he drawled in a lighter tone, "that the young lady just invited you to a party, Sen. You sly dog, you. Yeah, she was talkin' to both of us, but you're the fella with the facts. She's all yours. Good luck."
He'd need more than luck dealing with a chit like that... Luke chuckled before returning to business with a sigh. "So, what are we thinking? Is this worth pursuin'? Personally, I'd think it obvious that digging up our own prizes is more worthwhile than helpin' someone else find theirs."
Djehuti considers the vague descriptions of the possible threats, briefly frowning at Luke's rude comment. The elf shakes their head. "Perhaps we can discuss the Sanctum once we are inside the Necropolis. No need to talk about it here, is there?" They look around at all the other teams, handlers, priests, and other curious folks who were there just to watch the festivities.