Djehuti doesn't apologize for running away from a magical trap but nods at Amal's response to Senemheb. "Let's recover what there is to get and get out of here."
COURT
Jolánka's gentle touch carves through the dry, crusty linens of Pentheru the Younger's mummy, working to remove a total of eleven funerary charms.
Exiting the tomb - Amal seeing the warning drawn on the doors - the Court emerges to mid afternoon, perhaps 3 or 4pm. The courtyard is as they left it, including the giant centipede corpse, but no other haunts or creatures hinder their exit of the estate.
As you leave the warped gates, a figure comes into view. Sweaty, dusty, and surprisingly pale-faced despite her Garundi heritage.
AKINA
As the tug in your hand and head pulls you up the hill, through a crack in the community's wall, and down a street, you find yourself before an estate with tarnished, broken bronze gates. While nothing occurs, your hand twitches with pins and needles and a shiver runs up your spine. These gates are haunted.
Thankfully, the feeling fades away completely - both in spirit and hand - as five humanoids of flesh and blood, looking not much better than yourself, exit those gates, carrying some items on a sand sled. Them the Presence hisses, help them.
Bloody hells, how do I explain this without looking crazy, she gave her hand a dirty look.
The rogue raised her empty hands trying to appear non threatening, ”Hold, hold, I mean you no harm.” She smiles weakly, ”I heard something and thought someone needed help.” Not a lie, she quipped to herself.
”Are you okay? What happened here?”
"We are... fine." Which was largely true. The Vulture Court was relatively unscathed despite all the things that tried to bite, sting or crush them. "I thank you for your concern, stranger." Senemheb gives a suspicious eye at the woman.
"We are investigating this tomb in the name of Ruby Prince, Khemet III. And as this is our site, may I ask why are you here?" Suspicious as he is, Senemheb is also too tired to sound too menacing. Even if this one was a scavenger looking for spoils, she shouldn't pose too much of a danger to the Court.
The rogue lets out a bone weary sigh as the events of the past few hours catch up with her. Her shoulders slump a bit as she explained, ”I’m Akina, I too have the Ruby Prince’s blessing.” She hesitated as her voice filled with emotion, ”I’m a Sister of … I mean I was … our site was the Dry Veins.” She tilts her head trying to point in the tombs direction with her head. The dusky woman paused to gather her composure, ”My companions didn’t make it out and I was ...” she shrugged, ”More fortunate.”
Speaking a bit faster and looking side to side as if she expected danger, ”As I said, I heard a sound and thought someone needed help, so I came to investigate.” The garundi woman gave a genuine, toothy, smile, ”Fortunately I appear to be mistaken but since we’ve met perhaps we can travel out of the necropolis together? For safety?” Akina continued half pleading, ”You’ll find I am not without skills.”
”I thank you ten thousand times good master,” she lowered her hands and replied with a quick bow. She hesitantly asked, ”No offense ment but it appears as if you too have had your fair share of troubles.”
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”I thank you ten thousand times good master,” she lowered her hands and replied with a quick bow. She hesitantly asked, ”No offense ment but it appears as if you too have had your fair share of troubles.”
The young aasimar blushes and adjusts the collar of his armor, "Oh I'm no master just a lowly servant. Yes we've definitely experienced some...challenges...in our investigation into this area. No doubt, though, the Ruby Prince and the Pharasmin temple will be greatly pleased by our findings."
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Amal looks the strange woman up and down. To be approached by another group while carrying out the tomb's treasures was suspicious enough, but somehow a lone individual made him worry more.
He surveys his surroundings, wary of an ambush. "You said your group didn't make it out. What happened to them?"
Akina shuddered at the thought of reliving her friend’s demise. I hope this is worth it you fool, she admonished her hand.
After a brief pause she looked Amal in the eye and answered, ”We started as four. Hopeful and eager like the rest at the lottery.” She turned her head and spat, ”dam we were fools.”
Her calloused hand wiped some grime from her eyes and she continued to relate her companions misadventure. Her voice raised an octave, filled with emotion, ”Sulli was the first to fall… it was to spiders… hundreds of them.” She shivered and continued with a slight tremble to her scarred lower lip, Marra and Peshi fell together as we battled some undying horror that crawled out of a sarcophagus.” The ebony woman’s head drops, ”Our blows had little effect… I only survived because the passage I fled down collapsed and I fell into a pit which opened into another chamber.”
COURT
Jolánka's gentle touch carves through the dry, crusty linens of Pentheru the Younger's mummy, working to remove a total of eleven funerary charms.Exiting the tomb - Amal seeing the warning drawn on the doors - the Court emerges to mid afternoon, perhaps 3 or 4pm. The courtyard is as they left it, including the giant centipede corpse, but no other haunts or creatures hinder their exit of the estate.
As you leave the warped gates, a figure comes into view. Sweaty, dusty, and surprisingly pale-faced despite her Garundi heritage.
Jolánka smiles a bit.
"All those hours in the School of Medical Sciences paid off!"
She follows the others as they depart the estate. When Akina greets them and explains her story, she traces the Pharasmin spiral on her chest.
"Not this year, not yet," she prays.
"Well met, Akina of the Burning Sands. Dame Jolánka Graydon of Ustalav; Osirionologist and Graduate of the esteemed University of Lepidstadt at your service."
Djedefre nods, "We've found plenty of vermin in these areas. And a swarm similar to the one you speak of except ours wasn't spider they were undead."
"Undead cats," Jolánka adds.
Djedefre nods, "We've found plenty of vermin in these areas. And a swarm similar to the one you speak of except ours wasn't spider they were undead."
"Don't forget the scarabs.." Senemheb mutters, remembering the hundreds of beetles popping in the flames. But true, the undead cats were more terrifying.
"Well met, Akina. I am Senemheb, a scholar." he says to the woman, with a small bow. Of course his heavy armor and ragged out-of-the-tomb look doesn't really give a scholarly appearance.
"..."
Senemheb's eyes dart first to his satchel, and then back to the newcomer. And now he seems to be studying the woman in greater detail, analysing her every move.
"I see... Interesting..." he says, seemingly to no one.
Akina nodded to Jolánka and Senemheb in turn as they introduced themselves, ”I am gladdened that you overcame those challenges.” She feels compelled to share, ”The only thing I was able to easily dispatch were the the traps, they seemed never ending at one point.” A rueful smile crossed her face, ”If only I handled the monstrosities as deftly.”
At Amals question memories flood Akina’s mind, memories of the twisting catacombs and the hand’s guidance. Her thoughts eventually return to the present and she replied, ”It was a dark and twisted labyrinth, I crawled and felt my way around eventually finding a way out of the mausoleum. It was probably more luck or fate than anything but I’ve been fortunate in that regard.” She gives a slight smile and glanced at her right hand, ”Perhaps you could say I’ve been dealt a lucky hand from the deck of life.”
”Perhaps I am one of the chosen,” Akina replied with warm amusement and began to laugh. It was a high loud chortle of genuine mirth with a tinge of hysteria at the edges. After several seconds the woman regained her composure, ”or more likely not.”
She slapped her belly, ”Chosen, ha.” Putting her hands on her hips she smiled, Nevertheless, chosen or not, here I stand. I’ve told you no lies nor wish you or yours any harm.”
"Would you at least like an escort back out of the Necropolis?" Jolánka asks.
She doesn't really look for or expect any deception from Akina. Perhaps because stories like hers were all too common back in Ustalav. Even the Order had lost bright young members who underestimated the dangers left behind in the crypts of that fog-shrouded land.
Yes, yes, again ten thousand thanks,” she looked around, ”best not to tarry in one spot too long.” She commented to the voice in her hand-head, is this the help I was to give? An escort to safety?
As they travel she commented, ”You are lucky to leave this place without suffering loss.”
Djehuti had hung back during the introductions, jotting notes down in the large book that hung from their belt. The elf's gender is difficult to determine, made worse by the dark spectacles covering their eyes. They say sardonically "Nothing but a further loss of innocence."
”Of course, I too must check in with my handler,” she responded as she adjusted her pack.
"Yes, safer to travel in a group, after all." Senemheb says, but keeps his eyes on the woman. If Grandfather Rashid says there's something odd about her, it must be true. If only the old fool would speak clearly.
Returning from whence they came, the Court and their plus one retrace their steps from the Hill to the necropolis gates. Today, a greater crowd, dozens strong, has assembled, held back by the Voices of the Spire now joined by a detachment of the city's watch.
As the party passes through the gates, a furious chorus of insults and jeers greet them. "Thieves! Vandals! Defilers! Heretics! Traitors!" Watians - priests, farmers, merchants, beggers - accuse the "adventurers" of crimes against the gods, specifically the Old Gods.
A piece of rotten fruit is hurled from the crowd, striking and smearing across Akina's face. Two Voices jump the assailant, but the deed is done and it encourages more insults to be thrown the party's way. The city watch and the rest of the Voices move against the crowd, intent on dispersing them before anything else happens to the sanctioned explorers.
As the Voices bind the fruit thrower's hands, you recognize him as the one from yesterday after returning from Akhentepi's tomb. However, yesterday he only had his handful of fellow drunkards. Some of you were aware of the tense relations between the devotees of the Ancient Osiriani Pantheon and the ruling gods of Pharasma, Nethys, and Abadar. However, things appear to be escalating.
"The Old Gods will rise again!" The assailant barks as he's dragged away. "They will bury you for your crimes! The Old Ones will bury you!"
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Djedefre grimaces at the insults. Part of him agrees with the protesters; he does feel guilty for profiting from exploring the Necropolis. But the chance to learn about Osirion's history, culture, personalities...isn't the knowledge worthy of exploration?
He felt no better about himself or their work. He watches as the assailant is dragged off and shouts, "The Old Gods have never left us! Some of us still worship and honor them!"
Holding aloft the Sun Disc for all to see before walking with the other members of the Vulture Court he says, "Apologies for shouting and probably making this situation worse. Many who claim to venerate the old ways and deities yet never seem able to make it to a temple. Still...that man is dangerous. He already has larger crowds and they may continue to grow. I don't have a good feeling about this."
Great, a perfect ending to a perfect day, Akina chides herself sarcastically while she whipped the sticky, pulpy mess from her face. She can’t help but wonder, Whose side are the old gods on?
Nodding her head in agreement, ”Djedefre is right, this could get out of hand quickly.” She quietly hissed, ”best not to tarry.”
"Uneducated, ignorant rabble..." Senemheb sneers. "They can be dangerous, indeed. The Voices should be more strict when dealing with them."
Although it's a good question, would Senemheb be among them had he not been chosen in the lottery. One thing to disapprove defiling tombs, and another to profit from it.
"But let us hurry. Next time it might not be fruits they hurl at us."
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Amal frowns. He doesn't consider the yelling crowd as necessarily uneducated; rather, he feels a kind of tension in the air - an absolute fear that the tombs that have remained undisturbed for centuries will suddenly unleash something dreadful.
And honestly, he doesn't really have any evidence to prove them that they were wrong. So far, nothing particularly dangerous had come out, but if the fate of Akina's group was any indication, it certainly wasn't impossible.
He keeps his shield raised in front of his face to protect himself from any vegetable (lettuce leaves slide down the shield, and slump to the floor). He tilts the shield so it provides some cover for Akina. "Let's move a bit faster."
Djehuti nods at Senemheb. "I am surprised they are letting it get this far. I can't imagine the Prince wants unrest about his pet project." The elf nods at Amal. "Yes, yes, we should go."
Returning to the Grand Mausoleum, the Court finds a large crowd starting to disperse, priests of Pharasma kindly but firmly sending the masses home. Marwanun is seen among these mediators, and she gives a weary grin as you approach.
"Welcome back, friends. The Lady, you look like you've had a day of your own. Another site checked off the list, at least?"
She'll take any notes and sketches traded for the 10% discount of healing services and items. Seeing Luke absent and Akina in his place, she will depart and return with the male priest who was the Sisters' handler.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Akina." He will place a comforting hand on Akina's shoulder. "Such dangers are to be expected. May the Lady of Graves judge them fairly. I could not in good conscience allow you to continue the Lottery alone, and Marwanun tells me the Vulture Court is missing a member of their own. I am willing to be witness to a merger of the Sisters of the Sand and the Vulture Court, if that is your wish."
Marwanun nods. "I'd hate for two parties to suffer. Perhaps it is the Lady's will the survivors band together?"
Akina took comfort in the warmth of her hand, No worries, I will not abandon them. Akina licked her dry lips as she considered the offer, ”If it is acceptable to the Vulture Court a merger would be desired by the Sisters of the Sand.” She looked to the court to gage their response.