The Court reunited, there are a few directions to go. In the courtyard, there are tarnished bronze gates to the west and east, both hanging open. In the foyer open archways reveal rooms to the north, east, and west.
leads into what was once a lush garden. leads into a parlor with a staircase leading up to the second floor. leads into an inner courtyard, open to the sky through the second floor. leads into the baths. leads into the servants' yard. Where does the Court go first?
So how's your day going, Luke?
Not too great, Luke, thanks for asking. First, ghosties took up residence in my brainbox like cats in a damn hamper, and I think I might be hearing voices.
That's unfortunate, Luke.
Real unfortunate. Then the group's resident oddball - an achievement in this ragtag crew! - turns out out to be not just some weirdo who carries out one-sided conversations with a dusty skull...
Well, that's nice...
... but rather a simple necromancer!
... From the lion's den to the dragon's lair, eh?
That about summed it up, yeah. The Taldan made no attempt at hiding his dismay at seeing the scattered bones reassemble themselves like so many jigsaw pieces. Brow furrowed, he lifted his foot for a thighbone clattering its way across the floor. There was good reason to be skeptical of Senemheb's display, of course. Necromancy didn't have the most positive reputation, especially among the common folk. And Luke was nothing if not common.
Even so, his practical side had to admit there was a certain appeal in battling the undead with walking skeletons of one's own. It spoke to the ironic cynicism in him. "... Fighting fire with fire, huh?" The scoff that followed was wry, though no unamused. "As long as you can keep the thing under control, Sen..."
A shrug of the shoulders denoted the foreigner's reluctant acceptance of this necromantic tool. After all, he reasoned, who was he to judge? Being a self-professed tomb robber, Luke was in no position to condemn others' dodgy vocations. That would be the height of hypocrisy. As his conduct with the Pharasmins evidenced, he wasn't fond of hypocrisy.
If only he wasn't almost equally unfond of the undead.
Erk. Give me the creeps.
Turning away from said creepy skeleton, he joined the cleric in examining the shriveled garden. "What's up? You seeing something out here?"
Djehuti joins Djedefre and Luke by the entrance to the garden.
"Is this... Something else you've animated?" He points at the skull that Senemheb is holding.
"Animated? No. But related." Senemheb pats the satchel where the skull now lies. The work has now been done, and he doesn't have the patience to listen to the old man's yapping. Luckily the thick leather is quite soundproof.
"And he's the one raising the skeleton, so unfortunately I cannot give any details how it's done." he gives an apologetic shrug to Djehuti. "But we've done this before. It will obey me."
And as to prove the words, the skeleton starts its slow march towards the garden. For a moment, Senemheb just watches it's stride, and then follows it.
"Do you see anything in there?" he asks the others.
Peering through the open gates, the Court sees the western courtyard. It has an L shape, turning up to the north, mostly given to sand, sun-dried earth, and the ancient husks of dead trees. Stone benches line the walls of the yard, and a large tiled pool sits in the southwest corner, dried and partially filled with sand. A short flight of steps leads between a pair of pillars to a set of stone doors in the west side of the house. At the north end of the yard stands a squat stone building with columns at every corner.
Djehuti notes that the garden was probably designed to hold trees and flowering bushes. The weathered benches would have allowed the house's inhabitants to sit and bask in either shade or sun while surrounded by lush and well-tended flora.
Djehuti shifts their gaze over to the tracks and tells the group anything they recall.
Djedefre manages to determine that the tracks lead up to the dried out pond in the southwestern corner. Djehuti, studying the tracks and their size, is certain this is a giant centipede of some sort.
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No sooner had Luke voiced his hope that the bone whisperer could keep his unholy abomination under control than selfsame admitted he wasn't even sure how the magic worked. Worse still, the one running the show was supposedly his pet skull, an assertion the Taldan didn't know what to make of. Was that dusty death's head even anything more than a morbid bauble? If so, Senemheb was apparently surrendering the control of undead to... other undead? If not, the guy was crazier than a parliament of goblins. Luke might not be the only one hearing voices...
Either way, his confidence in this whole scheme plummeted like a lead anchor. Still - one had to laugh at the absurdity. "Hells below, Sen." The chuckle was dry as the withered courtyard. "An undead to govern your other undead? As if middle management wasn't unholy enough."
Seemingly serious though it all was, the young man thought he could afford the humor, or so he hoped. After all, even if the skeleton should go berserk on them, one such was a manageable threat, especially as a group. Just had to keep a close eye on it. And if nothing else, Senemheb had certainly earned the chance to prove this madcap idea.
Besides, they might have more immediate concerns to contend with.
"Look here; insectoid tracks of some type. Does anyone know what might have made them?"
"I'd wager an insect." The bright eyes glancing over the manifold tracks were a bit too innocent to be anything other than sarcastic. "Maybe a big insect."
Far from maligning anyone, this was merely the foreigner's world weary cynicism at work. Of course some hideous bug was lying in wait for them here. Why should anything ever be easy? Sword drawn, he stepped further into the garden, boots crunching carefully over the sand. Hopefully this went better than the last time he took point.
Jolánka, who's kept silent as the group has reconvened and recovered, gasps and traces the spiral when she witnesses Senemheb's newly revealed skills.
"Necromancy?!" she yelps. Then when he indicates his satchel, her panic shifts to confusion. "You have a necromancer in a bag?"
As they move on she says "We'll have words about this later...hopefully amiable ones."
Djehuti replies to Luke off-handedly as the elf keeps their place by the garden entrance while the tougher team members advance. "They're not insects, incidentally. Different classification. Like how spiders aren't insects."
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Djehuti replies to Luke off-handedly as the elf keeps their place by the garden entrance while the tougher team members advance. "They're not insects, incidentally. Different classification. Like how spiders aren't insects."
Djedefre blinks and tells Luke, "He's smart. I just know many of the creeping creatures of Osirion are deadly."
As Luke treads forward, a horrid scraping announces the rousing of the source of the tracks. An elephantine centipede rises from the pool and rears up to hiss and clack at the Court.
The centipede rushes forward, taking a bite at Luke, being the closest. Its bite sinks through the clothing and armor, and Luke feels something being pumped into his bloodstream.
"You have a necromancer in a bag?"
"Just a dead one." Senemheb shrugs, and almost lets the matter be. But then decides otherwise. "And let me be clear. Grandfather Rashid was a scholar, an adventurer, and perhaps a necromancer. But now he is dead. Not undead. Merely dead." he wags his finger at Luke on top the lecture.
"And I am merely... OOHH - IT'S HUGE!" whatever Senemheb's train of thought was, the appearance of the giant centipede drove that away.
First instinct is to direct the newly raised skeleton to lead the assault. And while the undead slowly approaches the centipede, Senemheb catches up quickly and draws his heavy blade to strike the enemy.
"Spiders aren't insects? What are you on about? Of course they are! Next you'll be telling us tomatoes aren't vegetab...!"
The young man fell mute mid syllable as something even more egregious than the scholarly elf's affront to common wisdom - difficult as this might be to believe - demanded all attention. Indeed, the colossal centipede that rushed their way from the dried pool was an affront to the eyes! Stavian's fire, what was this monstrosity?! Luke had anticipated more of those dog-sized arthropods - plenty big enough themselves! - not some squirming nightmare fit to constrict an elephant.
Worse still, while its bulk was beyond measure, the beast apparently had all the speed of its smaller cousins. In an instance it was upon them. Specifically, the pincer-like mouth was on and even within the Taldan.
"Grah!" he cried as wriggling talons the learned types like Djehuti might be able to inform him were called forcipules dug into his flesh. What needn't be said, however, was what these carried. Luke was plebian enough to be familiar with centipedes, and cynical enough to guess this overgrown variant was at least as venomous too.
Knowing no way out but going further in, the foreigner gritted his teeth and stepped up to the beastie, pursuing its undulating head even as it retreated with his blood trailing the mandibles. He had no idea whether he was poisoned or not, but that was a question for when this thing lay dead!
"Whiptail centipede," Djehuti calls out. "Venomous, and with a very long reach! Watch for its tail, it will try to trip you!"
As they're reciting interesting (non-)insect facts, the elf's pale eyes seem to glow behind their smoked glass spectacles and the shadows pooled at their feet (against the prevailing light of day) stretch out 30 feet across the dusty courtyard toward the centipede. The shadow's reaching arms slip under the giant arthropod and grab the centipede's shadow, wrestling it to try to hold it in place. The elf casting the shadow, meanwhile, hasn't moved a muscle.