He grinned and gave him a Whaaat? expression
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Duriel shakes his head and makes the "face-palm" gesture.
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If the boy... Kyle... is still interested in coming along, Luuther will continue to guide him, firm arm around his shoulder.
Inmir answers the Marketwife's questions as honestly as he can and quite formally, clearly seeing talking to one such as a serious thing. In fairness to the boy's story he will mention having seen the two slightly suspicious women at the end of the fight who's presence might corroborate his tale.
He will then quietly follow along the rest of the group in heading for the Inn of choice.
Could this be? Is this what was meant by the dream? These could be the ones that Pharasma meant you to travel with... To explore the Necropolis. But what if you are wrong... If you've understood the dream wrong these could be the wrong people... there might be no right people. You could lead them to Pharasma's judgement before their time...
His hand seeks out the holy symbol at his chest several times, seeking reassurance as the inner debate continues all the way to the Inn.
You retire to the Whispering Stone, a bustling inn with a lot of patrons that look suspiciously like adventurers. The proprietress, Teht Blackblossom, seems to know Kyle well, as they exchange a wink and a nod when he enters.
Inmir sits at the table with the rest of the group, a mug of small beer rests on the table before him. He sips quietly at the beer for a moment as if giving himself something to do while he considers what to say next.
How to start? I know what it is that I want to do... but how do I know what they want... if we want the same things? I guess the answer is to ask...
He puts the beer down on the table before speaking.
So then ... I gather from the fact that we've all come here that we all intend the same thing, to enter the lottery in the hope of being allowed to be one of those that get to explore part of the Necropolis. I also gather that, like me, you are all in need of a group with which to attempt this. Am I right so far?
He looks about the group before touching his hand to his holy symbol and continuing...
Now I must say this before we start. I am a servant of the Lady of Graves, and although the church has sanctioned this expedition, it in no way accepts the idea of casual desecration of the dead. If you cannot abide by that then tell me now and I will go my own way and seek another group...
He trails off, seeming like he had more to say but perhaps ran out of the drive to say it all...
"I abhor the casual desecration of the dead as well. Though you have to agree with me that the undead are not dead and deserve to be made dead, yes?"
"I'd love to go and study the past in the Necropolis with you... all that history buried there! My master tells me that only so much can be learned in books, some things need to be experienced! I'm no fighter though I have studied a little alchemy and magic, but my magic is rusty and needs further study, I will learn it in time."
"I too, am interested in this venture... however look at this group that fate has provided us. Could you imagine any less likely group of fellows".
"I would suggest 'Jing's Jest' as a group for our name as this certainly is that.
Inmir raises an eyebrow at the suggestion of Jing's Jest. Jing? Who is this Jing you speak of?
The proprietess takes the time to drop by your table and tousle Kyle's hair.
"Did you hear that they caught the guy that released all those monkey into the marketplace. They say there is a new hand up on the Pillar of Second thoughts. Heard you were just in the right place there. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"
Kyle assumes an air of utter innocence. Unless you have juicy gossip to add, she quickly loses interest and moves to the next table.
"Who is Jing??? Who is Jing you say???".
Luuther begins to cavort about the common room, singing and dancing the Canticle of Jing.
Recite
Dance
Reciting way off key, and knocking things over as he dances about.
Canticle of Jing
Jing is the god of the prank
And Jing is the god of the trick
Jing is the one that can walk through walls
That are forty inches thick
Jing is the god of the coin
And Jing is the god of the gold
Jing is what serfs work for each day
But landowners always hold
Jing is the god of good fortune
And Jing is the god of good luck
Jing can make lords out of common men
And raise them from the muck
Jing is the god of the beggar
And Jing is the god of the bum
Jing is the god of the urchin, scamp
And under-gutter scum.
Jing is a ragpicker black
And Jing is a ragpicker bold
Jing will take rings from a dead man’s hand
Before he is even cold
Jing is a mountebank skilled
And Jing is a charlatan brave
Jing is a scoundrel, cheat and crook
And unrepentant knave
Jing will take coins from beggars
And Jing will take jewels from lords
Jing is the reason that kings have vaults
And that dragons guard their hoards
Jing is the reason for locks
And Jing is the reason for doors
Jing is the reason for deathtraps
On the ceilings, walls, and floors
Jing is the god of the dungeon
And Jing is the god of the maze
Jing is the god of the labyrinth
Where everybody stays
Inmir looks on wide eyed at Luuther's song and dance, unsure whether to smile or frown at the whole thing. He takes refuge in taking another sip of his small beer.
Talin laughs at the dwarf
"Dont mind him. He does this every time he gets a chance. Dont ask why.... and im serious. Dont" he frowns at the last part
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Fleur chuckles and complies, not asking why. She turns and addresses the lady. "Oh my, it was such chaos in the marketplace... I'm so glad they caught who did it... I thought it was the two ladies, the one with the big hat and the other one who were watching the hubbub.. but I guess not."
Luuther finishes his performance, then breathlessly sits back down with his group, cleaning spilt food off his outfit.
Duriel scratches his chin as he considers Luuther's performance and the religious significance of the same.
You have no problem registering for the lottery and the priest seems pleased that your group not only includes a paladin but also a priest of Pharasma, which will guarantee your respectful behavior towards the dead and their graves.
You are registered as the Order of the Stone and given a small token to be presented at the ceremony the next day that marks the opening of the Wati necropolis.
Fleur grins as they receive their token. "This is going to be SO exciting... I will have to tell my mentor I won't be in to work tomorrow! Do you think we'll need to pack in things for more than a day at a time? Should I pack heavy or light? I've never done this sort of thing before."
"I think we should pack light. That is I don't we all have plans on spending a night in the tombs so leave the bedrolls I suppose. But bring food and water and other essentials."
"I agree. Not the best idea to try and CAMP in a tomb" he chuckles as they walk away
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Inmir will expend sufficient divine power to restore his new companions to full health.
Yes indeed, it would be preferable not to try and sleep in the tombs, but we need to be aware that in time it may become necessary. Some of the tombs are not close by the entrance and may need some travel to access. But we can assess that tomorrow once we get our first look at our allotted tomb. But I think we should be safe enough in traveling light on our first day in.
Finally the day of the lottery has arrived. Wati is near bursting with excitement. Adventurers from every corner of the Inner Sea region have assembled here beneath the hot Osirian sun to explore the tombs of the city’s necropolis, waiting only to be assigned their first sites for exploration. You discern a glimpse of a certain purple hat in the crowds. Surrounding the participants, the public has gathered to observe the ceremony as well. There is a festival-like quality in the air, and numerous street vendors are hawking goods and refreshments to participants and spectators alike. Some merchants have even brought what can only be considered adventuring gear to sell as last minute convenience items to explorers, while others advertise that they’ll buy recovered treasures and antiquities from those who visit their establishments.
In front of the imposing edifice of the Grand Mausoleum, an immense awning has been erected between decorated pillars in the market to provide shade for the priests of Pharasma overseeing the lottery. Beneath the awning, two urns sit atop a table elevated a few feet above the ground on a wooden stage constructed for the event. The high priestess of the Grand Mausoleum, Sebti the Crocodile, sits behind the table, while two acolytes confer with her at either side. The ceremony begins when the high priestess of the Grand Mausoleum, Sebti the Crocodile, rises to her feet and looks over the crowd. Sebti seems surprisingly young to hold such a distinguished position, but she has a confident air of authority, and as Inmir can tell you she is both competent and respected. After calling for silence, she begins with an invocation to the Lady of Graves, followed by a brief history of the founding of the necropolis.
Wati's history began in –1608 ar, when Pharaoh Djederet II ordered the construction of a grand city to mark the birthplace of the Osirion’s greatest natural resource: the River Sphinx, springing from the confluence of the Asp and the Crook. With its early foundations magically laid by the church of Nethys, the city sprang to life within just a year. Named Wati, the riverside town soon dominated trade across southern Osirion. But Wati’s destiny was forever warped in 2499 ar, when the cult of Lamashtu unleashed the Plague of Madness among the city’s thriving populace. Many of those whom the fever did not immediately kill were driven to murderous insanity, and within months, more than half the city had fallen in painful, anguished death. Most of the survivors fled Wati to make new homes elsewhere, but a stubborn minority remained behind, determined to reclaim their city.
It took almost half a millennium for Wati’s fortunes to reverse thanks to the church of Pharasma. With the tacit permission of Osirion’s Keleshite sultan, a Pharasmin priest named Nefru Shepses marched on Wati in 2953 ar with a small army of alchemists, masons, and morticians under his banner, intent on consecrating the entire city to the Lady of Graves, beginning with a new, monumental temple to Pharasma called the Grand Mausoleum. Over the next 30 years, Nefru Shepses and his followers recovered the bodies of those slaughtered in the Plague of Madness from their hasty, makeshift graves and the Pharasmins walled off that portion of the city that had been abandoned, transforming it into a metropolis of makeshift tombs. Thousands of corpses were given formal burial rites and reinterred in this dead copy of the living city, which continues to serve as Wati’s necropolis today.
Now that the necropolis has been opened by royal decree, the priest of Pharasma have taken upon them to let this happen in an orderly manner, and without unduly disturbing the dead. Hence the lottery, to ensure fairness and prevent squabbling between groups and the neglect of lesser sites. Each adventuring group will be assigned three tomb sites, that need to be explored in order, each one finished before access to the next is granted.
There are three rules that you are expected to abide by:
Keep the peace It was religious infighting that left Wati vulnerable to the devastating Plague of Madness. Conflict between groups or any kind of banditry is severely frowned upon.
Preserve the structures Every building in the necropolis is someone's memorial. Do not damage or tear down any structures. Some may be decrepit and fall of their own accord and traps may of course be removed or disabled, but avoid wanton destruction.
Let the dead rest You may remove material possessions but be careful not to disturb the bodily remains of the dead. Put them back and restore their resting places as well as you are able. Any undead you encounter can and should be destroyed, of course.
Duriel steps forth to receive your first assignment, which is an ancient tomb located in the city’s original cemetery in the eastern section of the necropolis. You are given a sketch map that should make it easy for you to find it. You may enter the necropolis as soon as the gates open the next morning. If you need to supplement your equipment, just let me know.
"Alright team. This here is our assignment." Duriel shows the other sketch map of the tomb. "Let's try to find out what we're supposed to be exploring and see if we have the right gear for the job."
Duriel looks at the faces of the others, "Everyone in agreement with that?"
Fleur reads the assignment and examines the map, memorizing it as best she can. "What do you think we'll need?"
"A map? I suggest we make a copy. Or a copy for each of us. Anything can happen. And yes. Let us find out more details about this site. So we can prepare properly"
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Inmir is smiling as he sees the map and there is a faint tone of excitement in his voice as he speaks.
I can check in church records to see if there is any information to be found from the time of Nefru Shepses that might help us.
Fleur thinks back to her training and studies to see what she can recall of the time.
You have no trouble finding the tomb. Soon enough you stand before a rectangular stone mausoleum that sits alone in what appears to have once been an actual cemetery. The trunks of a few dead trees poke out of the sand around the tomb, and a hot breeze whistles through their desiccated branches. A set of massive stone double doors is affixed to the northern side of the structure, beneath a facade bearing the likeness of an Osirian man. Windblown sand is heaped around the crypt, partially burying the doors that lead within. The doors are 10 feet tall and made of solid stone with no visible handles or hinges.
Your research more or less confirms what Sebti already told you.
Fleur reads the inscription aloud for the benefit of anyone who might not know the language.
"Anyone have any ideas who we might get through the doors... they look heavy and the sand will make things difficult. Though without visible handles or hinges, they may just push open."
Inmir is now wearing some leather armor. He is carrying a spear and has a shield hanging over his back. All in all it should serve to make him look more martial and adventurous, but he somehow looks ill-at-ease in his new attire.
Honestly, why did I let Brother Awwen talk me in to wearing this. It is so ... restrictive. And hot! I can't imagine what it must be like for those foreigners who wear those big iron suits - this is bad enough! It's not as if we're likely to be doing any fighting anyway... Akhentepi died well before the Plague, his tomb almost certainly won't have been affected...
Looking at the front of the tomb, Inmir lets out a sigh and says Well, I hope somebody brought a shovel.
Fleur chimes in, hopefully helpfully, "Oh, look... these doors don't open inward at all. They just have hidden hinges and they open outward... And observe here.. and here... it looks like they were sealed at the seams, to keep them permanently closed, but it's crumbled or chipped away, perhaps age, or perhaps some other cause. See here.. someone's used a crowbar or something like it to try to open the doors at some time... you can see the toolmarks still between the doors."
"Good call, Fleur. But it begs the question why such a thing should be the case here?"
"I would guess that maybe someone tried to rob this tomb before we got here. I don't think we can tell how long ago this damage happened though. It might have been a long time past, considering the buildup of sand around the doors... or it might have been a more recent, but failed, attempt." She shrugs, as this is all just conjecture.
Perception (Unusual Stonework)
"Well,well,well. Either there is another way in or the day will be long hot and full of manual labor. I suppose we could clear the sand away, then try to pry our way in as well. What are the chances we could hire some youths to move the sand away for us".
Jing is dressed for adventuring today, the image only tainted by the ragged, flowered parasol he is carrying to keep the hot sun from his head.
With that statement the Dwarf begins to kick and search around the area for another way in.
Perception
As far as Luuther is able to tell, you'll need to clear away the sand if you are going to get in.
Haydar thanks Inmir mostly for her healing and agrees to accompany the group if they will have him. With very few earthly possessions and no gold, he brings the equipment on him to the tomb. When they arrive, his eyes scan for a means inside that will not involve hours of grueling work.
Inmir stares at the doors intently as Fleur points out the clues that reveal the door's history. Goodness, she is very sharp. I can see what she is saying but I doubt I would have spotted that on my own.
We are fortunate indeed to have you with us Fleur. Your sharp eyes will be a great boon I think. We are not so fortunate however, in that the only way ahead seems to be to dig away all this sand. Once we get the sand away from the door we should be able to get it open with this... He removes a crowbar from his backpack and leans it up against a nearby tree. Then he places the backpack on the ground next to it. However, before we can use that, we have some work ahead of us.
With that he walks over to the sand blocking the door and begins experimenting with using his shield as a scoop to drag the sand away from the doors.
"I could run back and buy a shovels and buckets, but that would take time... using shields might be faster in the long run. And if I did go, what if they didn't let me back in? Definitely better to use shields I think." says the girl with no shield.
Inmir pauses for a moment and wipes the sweat from his brow before replying ...
That might be a good idea Fleur. It's only about a mile to the gate from here so it shouldn't take long to get there and back. I think there were vendors selling all manner of tools just outside the gate. And we may well find that there will be other occasions where a shovel or two might well be of use. Perhaps one of the others will go along with you.
Then, fed up with the constraint and the extra heat, he removes his leather armor and continues to work at the sand dressed in his robes.
"Let me take the brunt of the effort. The heat seems to not agree with you" as he offers a hand
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My thanks, friend Talin. It is not so much the heat itself that bothers me, I have lived here all my life, but I am not used to wearing that armor. If I'm honest, I'm not that used to physical labor either... most of my time in recent years has been spent in study rather than anything more energetic.
He pauses to wipe the sweat from his brow again.
Perhaps that is a failing. I may suggest to the masters that they consider a more physical component to the training of acolytes, he smiles for a moment before continuing, especially now I am safely out of training myself.
He then returns to moving the sand, but moves over a bit to make room for Talin.
He chuckles
"Inmer was it? You are human. Even if you lived 60 years in the sun. The dessert will still cook you from the inside out. So let me help properly. Take a seat in the shade for a bit"
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