[PF] The Risen Guard of Osirion; Forged in Strife and Fire

[MesiDoomstalker]

It was a quiet night. Most nights were quiet. But that didn't mean one could be lax. Faltering for even a moment could spell the end of your eternal charge, The Ruby Prince Khemet III. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of the Pharaoh's breath as he slept and the occasional soft shifting of imported silk from Tian Xia. It was not odd that the three of you were picked to guard over the Pharaoh as he slept. You had done so many times before, though never this specific combination of Risen Guard.

No, what was odd about this night was that there was only three of you. Graitore Fangfist, the large imposing Garundi man, stood just outside the open entrance to the Pharaoh's room inside his imperial apartment. Tonight, the Pharaoh had opted to stay in the smaller, less opulent (but by no means humble) estate instead of the imperial palace across the Black Dome. He had been working on something, apparently, and worked late into the night. Only at the behest of the Khopeshman did the Ruby Prince abandon his magical work and make his way to the large, canopy bed he now rested peacefully. Graitore was artfully positioned so if any would-be assassin would enter the room, he'd be in their blindspot, ready to strike and subdue any attacker. This was his typical post for night guard, one he was well used to.

Khep stood opposite him, only a scant few feet from the sleeping Pharaoh. The aged Undine did not typically watch over the Pharaoh's sleep, his oracular talent used more readily for preventative measures than reactionary. But such was life as a Risen Guard; you did as the Khopeshman said. Or, in the case of tonight, as the Pharaoh requested. It was certainly a shock when, in his groggy state, Khemet III requested Khep be woken to stand guard over the Pharaoh's chambers this night. From his vantage, he could study the Pharaoh in his sleep easily, the faint lights of the false sky of the Black Dome painting a kaleidoscope of colors across Khemet's frame. He looked tired. Even in his sleep, his body radiated exhaustion. Every few minutes, he would shift and turn, never seeming to get comfortable despite the lavish, plush bedding.

The final watcher stood opposite Khep, Zadkiel. The tall Half-Orc was further from the Pharaoh's bed than the Undine, tucked into the corner. His viewpoint kept him from being visible from either the open entrance nor the large, open window directly to his left. Wards and contingent magic protected the window from a ranged assault but were more lax for physical entry. Nothing would be worse if the Pharaoh died by the vary magics meant to protect him if he had to flee the bedroom via the window. Every so often, he would spy out the window but the Black Dome's interior was peaceful. No one moved about the streets and the enchanted ceiling crawled ever slowly its mimicry of the night's sky.

A thought on all of your minds, certainly, was where your fourth watchmen was. Khemet had specifically requested the three of you and when Khopeshmen suggested a fourth, he was dismissed with a groggy gesture. It was quite unlike the Pharaoh to be so dismissive of his own safety. The other corner, opposite Graitore and Zadkiel, was barren, no watchmen. It left you somewhat uneasy. If an attack would happen, it could be a crucial flaw in their defense of the Pharaoh. But it was the Pharaoh's desire that only the three of them guard him this night. Should they guard the Pharaoh, even from himself?

Any such thoughts were cut short as the Pharaoh bolted upright in his bed, silk sheets falling down his lithe frame gracefully. The three of you notice, this movement coincided with the sudden drop in temperature in the room. Janhelia, Khemet's invisible Fire Elemental companion, had left the room. Khemet looked one way and the next, eyes resting on each of you slowly. Without a word, he swung his legs off the bed, grabbing a nearby silken robe, pulling it over himself. It was not the first time any of you had seen the Pharaoh indecent. It came with the territory. But he still made the effort to be so as little as possible. He walked through the spacious bedroom, making it seemed towards the door before he stopped in an apparently random spot on the floor. With his foot, he pushed the ornate rug from its resting place, revealing the sandstone floor. He mumbled a word and a ring of purple-blue sigils came to life in a large circle, which the Pharaoh was standing in the middle of. He turned his attention back to you and smiled, beckoning with his hands. Come now. You can't protect me if you stay here.

[Genth]

Khep stood, leaning on his staff as he watched the Pharaoh sleep. The thin, blue-skinned man was always able to remain incredibly still and silent, even for a Risen Guard - the benefit of literal decades of meditation. He was not meditating right now however, and there was a perpectual chill, just slight enough coming from around him, the sign that he was using his strange talents to see beyond normal sight. Such was often the case - it was too difficult to use his divination talents for an extended period of time when on patrol, but here, in the quiet of the bedchamber.. it is much more easily kept.

Such things change however, when the Prince rises. The coolness diminishes, and the Priest smiles, bowing his head to his liege lord. "Khopeshman is liable to tell you off if he finds out, My Lord" he says, not disapproving in the slightest, simply bemused as he walks forwards to stand in the circle. The spiral-topped stave clicks on the ground as he walks, and the scent of dirt wafts from his steps. "Perhaps we should place some pillows beneath the blanket to create an illusion." he adds.

[thegoldenfedora]

Graitore stood as silent as he could so as not to wake the pharaoh with his oafeshness. His large frame stood cramped in his corner, but he knew the tactical usefulness of being able to grab whoever entered in a moment's notice.

He kept his mind ready and alert by running the patrols routes in his head, keeping check of the time for who should be where at every given moment and when they were supposed to check in. Guarding his Pharaoh, surrounded by his fellow watchmen, who were then surrounded by the guard, by the city, by Osirion made him feel such a sense of brotherhood and duty that he could have went for happiness.

That community was missing one member though, Gratoire was painfully aware of the missing guard in the last corner. Routes and check-ins were forgotten as he shifted focus again to run scenarios in his mind to cover for the missing guard.

He straightened even further than his usual good posture as Khemet bolted upright. Unease at the change in routine as he caught the Pharoh's eye. Realizing that Janhelia was missing worried Graitore even further. When Khemet invited him to the circle he stepped immediately, angry to consider an event that would cause him to be unable to protect his ward.

He remains silent.

[Athaleon]

Zadkiel had never quite got used to sentry duty. After his first few months in the Guard, Khopeshman had been giving him other assignments fairly steadily, so he never fully learned how to maintain the focus and vigilance his duty required in spite of the monotony of the task. Truth be told, he'd spent his time going over what he knew to try and explain this assignment. The specific request for just these three bodyguards, the lack of explanation, it was obvious the Pharaoh had something up his sleeve.

He had long been used to adjusting to the Ruby Prince's seemingly whimsical goings and doings. Some in the Guard, if they had their way, would lock their Pharaoh away in a secret vault and issue all Royal communications via carefully vetted Risen through multiple levels of compartmentalization, and so on and so forth. But that was no way for a king to rule. In a way, Zadkiel could rationalize that games of state required as much flexibility, even unpredictability, as his own tradecraft. Or perhaps, came the occasional dark thought, he was giving his Pharaoh too much credit. Duty dictated that he leave the latter thought aside and trust in the man whose trust had in turn brought Zadkiel back from the dead.

With the sudden activation of the magic circle, he guessed that the spell was the reason for just three hand-picked Risen. Whatever it was would work for just four people. "Good idea with the pillows. Where are we going, sire?" Zadkiel asked, straight to the point as always. He quickly cast a Detect Magic spell just to ensure nothing untoward was happening beneath the notice of the natural senses.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Zadkiel's magically enhanced sight alighted with the glow of magic, the imperial apartment blanketed in numerous wards, abjurations and spell-traps for those brave or foolhardy enough to strike at the Pharaoh while he slumbered. The circle, however, stood out as a shining beacon amongst the twinkling motes of magical aura, far eclipsing the majority in intensity. No need. We'll return before Khopeshmen can get his tilke in a twist. The moment Zadkiel had fully passed the circle's perimeter, it flared to life and blanketed the room in a vibrant array of purples and blues. There was a brief period of weightless nothingness before you found yourself standing on solid sandstone once more.

The room you found yourself in was somewhat cramped, especially in comparison to the lavish apartment you just departed. Long tables made of low quality wood stretched across each of the rooms four walls cluttered with a myriad of reagents, magical paraphernalia and copious piles of enscrolled vellum with hand written script, drawing and diagrams across them. The walls are plastered with large scrolls of papyrus, massive magical diagrams, planar and local maps with scribbling across their margins leaving nary an inch of wall visible. In one corner sat a bubbling vat of liquid, whose color rotated through red, then magenta, the purest azure blue, black and then back to red.

However, what dominated the room, standing at it's center, was a statue. It seemed to be carved by a master sculptor, as its features were details to the extreme. Every strand of hair carved naturally in a messy, haggard style and every pore, blemish and mar across the subject's skin. What was odd was it was sculpted in weird pose. Most sculptors opt to depict their subjects in tall, majestic and regal positions. The creature before you was on its knees, head hung in shame or perhaps silent resignation, back slumped and clothes disheveled. Such a pose was only reserved for statues depicting some vile villain laid low by the hero, at their proper place groveling for their lives before their narrative superiors.

Without a word, Khemet strode forward, grabbing what looked like a painter's palette from a nearby table. He dipped a brush into one of the colored pastes on the palette and began tracing symbols on the statue's back. As he worked, he glanced an eye towards the three of you, an odd gesture. The Risen Guard were always present at the Pharaoh's side and yet none of you had ever stepped foot in this room before. More so, he tended to ignore the Guard in his retinue, except when their services were required. The Guard had become background elements of his life with time.

Spoiler

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You can roll Arcana, Planes, Religion, Local and Spellcraft if you'd like. If you think of another skill that may be applicable, go for it.

[thegoldenfedora]

The change in scenery was half expected by Gratoire, but he wasn't happy about it. Once they had apparated he immediately began to scan the room for possible attack routes and an exit strategy. Seeing none, he inspects the walls briefly, but begins to assume that magic of the only way to enter or exit this room.

Inspections completed, he found himself moved by the statue, what great burden must this creature carry to lay him low like such. Gratoire perused his mind for any knowledge from his time in the libraries for information about the statue. Finding his knowledge lacking on the subject.

Defeated he takes a corner to continue guarding, "Some light night work Pharaoh? It didn't seem as if you were sleeping too well to begin with."

[Genth]

Khep makes his way to a corner of the room, looking curiously at the diagrams on the walls for a time, before turning back to watch the Pharaoh, a bemused smile on his features.

[Athaleon]

"I take it the only way out is the way we came in, my Lord?" Zadkiel asked. A look around the room didn't tell him much in detail but he knew the diagrams of elemental summoning circles when he saw them.

[MesiDoomstalker]

As the Pharaoh continued his painting (you note his skill is impeccable but the designs aren't aesthetically pleasing), he chuckled. Yes Zadkiel. It wouldn't be much of a private sanctum if it was so easily accessed, now would it? He re-positioned, starting to trace symbols down the statue's left flank. And no, Graitore. Not exactly. As you are well aware, I have very little time to myself. It makes it incredibly difficult to have clandestine meetings with conspirators about matters of the state. His tone is jovial, almost sarcastic but you can't quite shake the feeling there's more truth than sarcasm. There was a reason the 3 of you, and only the 3 of you, were chosen to guard me this night. He straightened from his hunched position, eyeing his work. The whorls, swirls and lines were clean and regular but they did little to enhance the statue.

Then, he positioned to the front of the statue, getting down on his knees to paint it's face. I have a special job for the 3 of you. And if the unusual circumstance weren't clue enough, I will be explicit. No one is to know the purpose of your mission. Not even Khopeshemn. His light, jovial tone dropped into a hard serious tone. A tone he used rarely, typically in intimidation tactics with foreign dignitaries who presumed too much.

I also wanted to introduce you to your.... backup. Are you ready? He turned his head sideways, giving them an inscrutable expression.

[thegoldenfedora]

Sensing the significance of the Pharoh's words, Graitore salutes and quickly reaffirms his devotion. "I live and die to serve you Pharaoh. That goes beyond Khopeshman." He eyed the statue, wondering what sort of magic would be done with it.

"I am glad to know that our group will become a complete guard." He stands nearer the Pharaoh, ready to shield him with his large frame in the event of an unfortunate backlash of magic. After all it was not just intentional attacks that could harm Khemet.

[Genth]

"You don't need an answer from us, Pharaoh. We shall keep your secrets, as is our duty. Always." Khep replies, turning attention to the statue, head tilting as he studies it. "I am sure whomever you have chosen to join us will be a most worthy addition. I am ready."

[MesiDoomstalker]

Khemet simply smiles but doesn't add any further as he puts the finishing touches on his design on the statue's face. Taking in the new addition as a whole, it seems that every line, whorl, spiral and design was interconnected, drawing back to a small, hollow circle on the statue's forehead. He turned to the nearest table and started shuffling papyrus and odds and ends in search for something. He eventually found what he was looking for, a ballpin hammer far too small to be practical for any but the most delicate tasks. He returned to the statue and with one last inscrutable glance at the trio, he lightly tapped the statue's forehead square on the hollow circle. The blow, despite being a light tap, rang loudly as if a crystal gong was struck by a maestro. Immediately, the statue's facade began to crack. The fissures spiderwebbed across its surface, seeming to emanate from the designs the Pharaoh had placed upon it. Soon, the flecks of stone started to flake away revealing olive-colored skin. The flecked stone dissipated before reaching the ground. It took only moments but the statue had shed a layer of stone to reveal a man, who took in a sudden shuddering breath.

Oathbreaker
How long had it been? It was never easy, the sudden loss of and then reclaimed consciousness. This time, it was not the Grand Vizier who revived you. You didn't recognize this one. He looked young, with kind eyes which hid an uneasy tension. Behind him stood three individuals but they bore no semblance of familiarity either. Welcome back Oathbreaker. Bow before your Pharaoh. Despite the stiffness of petrification having not fully left you, your head was forced down to the cool floor without your volition. Good. You may rise, and speak freely.

[Inspectre]

The man let out an involuntary groan as his muscles moved on their own, touching his head to the floor.
Afterwards, he could move again, although every movement brought a fresh sensation of pain as muscles were forced to remember how to move.
Stiffness was to be expected, but this was a whole new level - how long had it been since he was last called to service?
Although the young man in front of him looked nothing like the face he had usually seen upon being awakened, that was not necessarily new either.
And given that he had bowed in that man's direction, it seemed that this young man was the new Pharaoh?

With great effort the man pushed himself up onto his knees, and then with further difficulty slowly up onto his feet.
He nearly fell again when one of his knees gave a loud crack as it unbent, nearly causing him to topple over before he caught himself with one arm against the wall - which sent a fresh wave of pain up that limb as well.
Gritting his teeth, the man found his balance again, and pushed off from the wall to turn back to face his new Pharaoh.

Gingerly, the man worked his jaw, wincing as the muscles relaxed only slowly.
It probably didn't help that his mouth felt as if it had tried to devour all the sands in Osirion - but his needs would have to wait.
Finally when he was confident, the man spoke, although the sound even to his own ears was shockingly thin and reedy.

"The magic was . . . a wise precaution . . . but unnecessary. I . . . remember . . . my oath. Your blade . . . is unsheathed. What is . . . your command . . . my Pharaoh?"

[thegoldenfedora]

Oathbreaker, that's what the Pharoh had called him. Graitore's whole body tensed with a sudden sense of anger. Who was this man who had broken his oath to the pharaoh that was not supposed to be his ally? Despite Graitore's devotion to Khemet he find himself doubting, a fact that he hated even more than the idea of a Risen Guard breaking his oath.

"I'm sorry Pharoah, would you please enlighten us to why this man is referred to as oathbreaker?"

[Athaleon]

Zadkiel had his bow nocked but not held at draw. "And the task for which he's been loosed."

[Inspectre]

Oathbreak noted the change in language, not enough to be unrecognizable but it was certainly a troubling sign.
He was used to changes in culture, dress, minor things that came and went with the wind.
But language . . . that implied he had been asleep for a very long time indeed.
Still, it was not his place to question such things, nor did it really matter - he was here for a task, and upon its completion he would again be prepared to await the next need for his services.

An answer to the guard's query was something that he could provide, although he could predict the reaction from past experience.
Slowly, he extended his arms out from his sides, wincing as the joints locked up at about three-fourths full extension.
He would need to spend some time stretching in order to get back to full mobility.

"Forsooth, I slain mine Pharaoh. Twas necessary . . . for the weal of the Kingdom."

Oathbreaker explained simply, and then added.

"Now, mine existence is as a blade in Pharaoh's hand. I shalt strike down thine enemies wherever they hide."

Oathbreaker finished, returning his attention to Pharaoh, although he assumed that his purpose was already known.
Else, why awaken him in the first place?

[MesiDoomstalker]

The Pharaoh did not flinch as his Risen Guard brought their arms to bear upon Oathbreaker. To be honest, I did not know that, Oathbreaker. Much of our history has been lost to the ages and only scrapes of hearsay remained of your tale. It was only due to extensive research that we were able to locate your petrified form. Khemet turned and started ruffling through papyrus and vellum scrolls on the nearby workbench, motioning for those gathered to join him. Laid out on the table, after being unearthed from the clutter, is an excellent drawn map of modern day Osirion (Oathbreaker notes that the borders are considerably smaller and many of the neighboring countries are new to him). Near the southern border, in the area known as the Footprints of Rovagug, is a crudely drawn red circle over a mountain named Sokar's Boil.

As for your task, it is simple. Travel to Sokar's Boil and deliver this letter to the elf prospector Conall Reyran. He'll be easy to identify; he's notoriously distractable. Also the only elf in the prospect team's employ. Khemet held out a folded piece of papyrus, sealed with the insignia of Khemet's house of the Forthbearers. You will speak with no one of your purpose but Conall. If anyone asks, I have granted you time for personal leave. He then pushes four satchels which clinked with the sound of golden scarabs inside. A small stipend to fuel your journey. It need not say your equipment used in my service are Imperial property and you cannot use such items during a 'personal holiday'. And for Oathbreaker to re-acquaint himself with a living body.

He then turned, holding a small object in his hand. It consisted of two small metal balls fastened together by a rod of ruby-red glass. This is a special item I've created for such clandestine sojourns. Break the glass and speak aloud a short message and I shall hear it instantly and if I am able to respond you shall hear it. Be wary, this item's contains only enough magic for one use. Use it only in emergencies. He rolled the map up, tucking the trinket in it's confines before depositing it in Khep's hands. I expect as swift passage as you are able but the journey is long. Once you have left the confines of Sothis' walls, my ability to aid you will be near-nonexistent. You will not be Risen Guard, working at behest of the Pharaoh. You will be commonfolk, with unsubstantiated claims of illustrious positions and pharaonic mandates.

The Pharaoh's tone had been business, perfunctory and to the point. But as he hands over the final accouterments of his assignment, his tone softens. I trust you will carry out my will to the best of your abilities. Do not worry of Oathbreaker. The magic that sustained him this long is powerful, as are the new wards I have added. If he has any notions of treachery, his cursed existence will return sooner than he will like. But I don't believe he'd try. While he directed the statement at the three Risen Guard, a knowing gaze fell upon Oathbreaker as he closed his statement. Now, quickly. We have little time. Ask any questions now. I will not have the freedom of answering later.

Spoiler

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If you look at the Roll20 map, you'll find a map of Osirion. You'll note the location of Sokar's Boil to the South-West in the Footprints of Rovagug. I do not have a particular path you will take to reach Sokar's Boil; you can discuss amongst yourselves the best way to proceed. The coin purses contain your starting gold. There will be an off-screen shopping spree where you purchase your current gear, as well as arrange whatever is required for your journey. So feel free to tweak your gear (within starting gold) to fit the journey.

Finally, the item you received is a single use item of Sending, keyed specifically to Khemet III. It takes a standard action to break and then speak the message (the usual 25 word limitation). Please decide amongst yourselves who will hold it.

If you like, Geography, Local, Nature, Planes or Nobility can all be rolled at this time.

[Genth]

Khep barely reacts when the stone creature becomes flesh, becoming very silent and still, eyes sharp, watching this Oathbreaker carefully. He remains as such as the Pharaoh speaks, lips very slightly pursed, eyes flicking every few seconds from Khemet to Oathbreaker. "I see, my Liege. I am honored to be given such a mission, and my lips are sealed as your wish demands. Although I would ask this in way of confirmation before we go - should Reyran subsequently give us a task, claiming it to be from you, should we follow it? As your Risen Guard, we can have a tendency to be... literal-minded" he gives a soft chuckle, taking the rolled map and trinket, stowing it away in his robes. "And it would be awful if we left this elf in the lurch because we took your command so literally we left as soon as the paper was in his hand."

[thegoldenfedora]

Graitore's choler soared at the prospect of killing the Pharoah. He would normally be quite interested to learn of the time the oathbreaker had come from, but his duty and love of Khemet dulled his fondness for history to a bare memory.

He already knew that he would have to put his righteous indication to the side though as the Pharoah continued. As always he would trust his Lord without question. Otherwise that right would he have to call himself Risen Guard. However if that magic fails, I will not.

"I am forever at your service. On my honor this letter will be delivered. I believe the honor of carrying the rod should go to Keep as his oracular abilities may be there difference in sending a message in time. There honor of carrying the letter should go to Zadkiel, as it is far too likely to be damaged in my possession." Graitore didn't even consider that the Oathbreaker would carry either item of importance.

[Athaleon]

"You can always count on my discretion, Pharaoh," Zadkiel confirmed with a bow. He rose with a slightly impish grin and continued, "and I agree with your assessment, Graitore." Inwardly, Zadkiel was cursing. There was more to this than the simple message delivery, of course. There would be no need to go to all this effort to restore the Oathbreaker to flesh for something Zadkiel and his cohorts could do themselves—he certainly wasn't the only Risen experienced in fieldcraft. If the Pharaoh was willing to tell them, he'd have told them, and in any case he couldn't now discuss anything sensitive in front of the Oathbreaker—magically collared though he may be, there was always the chance he could let something slip out of carelessness, or he might find a way to pass a message around whatever spells bound him.

No matter. Zadkiel was already thinking about aliases and cover stories. Whatever the circumstances, their Pharaoh had given them a job, and he hadn't chosen three hand-picked Risen and revived a forgotten relic of a man because he expected the job to be easy.

Spoiler

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Roll all the things—again! Well, except for Geography.

Knowledges:
(Nature) (1d20+7)[22]
(Local) (1d20+7)[16]
(Planes) (1d20+7)[23]
(Nobility) (1d20+7)[21]

[Inspectre]

Spoiler: Know Rolls

Show

Knowledge Nobility: (1d20+5)[8]
Knowledge Planes: (1d20+11)[26]

Oathbreaker limps over to the map, looking at it with great interest.
So he had been unused for a very long time - this map looked like a work of fiction to him for all his familiarity with its contents.
That certainly ruled out the possibility of him being a guide or leader, not that he expected to be in such a position of power.
He was a weapon, and he would do his best to protect these three and ensure the message was delivered.
Having a better idea what dangers they may face in this new world to him was the first priority.

"Doest thou knowest of any opposition who might stand in our way of thine task?"

[MesiDoomstalker]

After Khemet had answered your questions he seemed to have one more thing to say before he paused and a bit of color drained from his face. Ok, time to go back. With unusual quickness, the Pharaoh physically shoved the four of you into the teleportation circle, hurriedly speaking the activation phrase. After the brief disorientation he shoved the three Risen towards their posts and shoved Oathbreaker to a section of wall which fell away with a touch. After a rushed direction on how to take the tunnel to the outside, he shoved Oathbreaker in and then sealed him in the dim lights of the fae fire that lighted the narrow corridor.

Khemet nearly sprinted to his large bed, dashing under its covers much like a child who should not be awake at this hour. Just as the morning sun started playing shadow's outside, the interior of the room suddenly became warmer as Janhelia returned to the room unseen. Moment's later, Khopeshman joined her, looking as stern and unpleasant as ever. Khemet arose slowly, stretching, yawning and generally making a convincing display of just waking. He greeted Khopeshman much like he normally did and the Risen Guard leaned in close and whispered in the Ruby Prince's ear. Do you plan on informing me what you have planned for these 3? Khemet smiled and responded. What is on the agenda today, Khopeshman? Khopeshmen's eyebrow quirked upwards before continuing with the Pharaohs itinerary. An octet of Risen Guard filed into the room as he spoke, fresh-faced and well rested. With a wave, Khopeshmen dismissed the trio, relieving them of their duty so they may rest. As the trio filed out, they caught Khemet's eye, which he returned with a knowing wink.

The trio agreed, collectively, that Khopeshmen seemed unfazed by Khemet's apparent antics and likely is putting no more thoughts to their clandestine night shift.

Once the trio had left the imperial apartments, they re-encountered Oathbreaker who joined them as they headed out into the city. In a few short hours time, the quartet had purchased the necessary gear for their journey as well as chartering passage on a merchant boat on course to Wati at the confluence of the Crook and Asp. As they boarded the boat moored in the Red Canal, Graitore caught in the corner of his eye, a familiar sight. Or rather, a sight that would be familiar within the confines of the Black Dome but not on the docks of the canal. A person set off to the side, sitting upon a crate of wares with a thick, heavy headwrapping of excellent quality which obscured their features though their body-structure suggested a human woman. It was obvious she was watching the gangplank, which Graitore found himself on, and as his eyes met her she swiftly turned her head, stood up and disappeared into the crowd. Despite numerous attempts, Graitore was unable to catch sight of the distinctive headscarf anywhere within the crowd from aboard the boat (or on it) before it set sail up the Sphinx.

The trip up the Sphinx was mostly uneventful, taking 5 days to reach Wati. There was a brief scare of a Hetkoshu Crocodile threatened to tear the boat apart but was quickly distracted by a freshly slain cow tossed overboard and the boat made its escape with only minor hull damage and a single leak from a tooth. You had some great luck, finding a new boat heading to Ipeq in only a few hours after you disembarked in Wati and after the brief wait you were on your way once more. Again, the journey was uneventful and even more dull as the Crook offered far fewer sights to take in from above deck.

Another 3 days later, you have finally reached Ipeq as the sun started to set. As the boat comes in to moor at the docks, a horn sounds thrice followed by the sounds of large chains being pulled taut blocking the river of traffic through Ipeq's shallows. Likewise, the gate to the river closed shut. It seems the city closed its walls come nightfall. It seems you would have to find lodging in Ipeq before setting out in the morning. As you set out to find lodging, Graitore and Khep noticed a Gnoll within the crowd who seemed to be following your group. She caught your eye and held it briefly before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Khep, however, noticed that the Gnoll's gaze was squared directly on him with an almost predatory focus.

It takes little effort to find lodging for the night. As you settle in to a hot meal for the first time in over a week (and likely the last for some time), a quartet of Gnolls entered the inn. Despite the savage reputation, neither the patrons nor the barkeep seemed to pay them any mind. Their coins were just as shiny as yours, of course. Three of them took seats at the bar, ordering a strong ale while the fourth whispered something in another's ear before approaching your table. As she drew near, it became obvious it was the Gnoll who had spied you earlier and her welcoming grin had a tad too much teeth for your liking. She placed a hand on a spare chair and asked, Is this seat taken, gentlemen? Her Osirion was good, but obviously not her preferred tongue.

[Genth]

Khep gives the Gnoll a broad smile, and inclines his head. "No, no, we're not using it at all, dear. I do suggest some of the bread, apparently they make it in-house!" He smiles for a moment before snapping his fingers "Ah, you meant you wanted to join us! Sorry, I get confused sometimes in my old age. Well, I'm not one to deny youthful company, do any of you have objections to a new friend?" he asks the others, tone almost painfully bright and cheery. It's not terribly well hidden.

[Inspectre]

Oathbreaker looked at the gnoll in open suspicion.
The past few days had been most enlightening, but if he had been asked before whether gnolls would be allowed to move about freely in civilization, he would have laughed at the thought.
People were far too trusting of others these days, and with coin or not this inn owner was welcoming crocodiles into his establishment.
Still, best to keep her talking until her true nature inevitably revealed itself.

"So, what is thou doing in Ipeq? How doest thou find the city?"

Oathbreaker says, trying to maintain a conversational tone while "idly" glancing over at her companions every few seconds.

[thegoldenfedora]

Gratoire ended up deciding to inform his sister somewhat of his departure. After all, if the Pharoah were to give him some r and r it would be more suspicious for him not to tell her. So while everyone was completing their shopping he seeing by her tavern to inform her of his absence. He felt a slight pang of regret as he continued Khemet's lie, but he had no compunction to disobey his leader.



He gave a passing notice to the woman with the headscarfed, wondering what sort of journey would bring her out of the black dome. But he quickly returned his focus to the mission.


He entertained the idea of fightng the crocodile, enjoying the idea of a head on fight amidst the subterfuge that they were undertaking. But again, caution and care for the assignment stayed his hands from causing a scene. Instead he helped the ferriers haul the carcass over board.


He disliked the situation with the gnoll. Recognizing that they had been followed, he let Khep do the talking. He stood and worked his way to the bar. His gut told him there was going to be trouble, and if there was going to be a trouble, he wanted to be in a position to do the most damage. He walked to the bartender behind the other three gnolls and cheerfully ordered a drink, hoping to belie his impulse to crush them.

[Athaleon]

"I got no objections." Zadkiel had quickly learned to stop wincing as Oathbreaker spoke. His archaic Osirian was to be expected, and really couldn't be helped at this point, but it would stick in people's memory. For now he sat, feigning disinterest until things played out further.

[MesiDoomstalker]

The Gnoll bears a wide toothy grin, an attempt to seem grateful marred by too many jagged teeth. Thank you for your hospitality. She lowers herself into the chair while raising a hand with 5 fingers splayed. The barkeep nodded at her (though she did not see it) and got to work pouring five glasses of a thick, dark liqueur. Us in Ipeq? We live here in Ipeq. We contract ourselves out to adventurers who use Ipeq as staging grounds to go into the surrounding areas for whatever interests them. We make great guides! I apologize for my forwardness, but I saw you on the street earlier. You look to be the adventuring sort. Are you in need of a guide? You aren't heading east are you? Her tone is that of sympathy and concern but it's obvious she's attempting to make a sales pitch.

[Genth]

"Ah, a guide, yes, yes, I understand!" Khep says, still beaming with slight insincerity at the Gnoll. "But alas, I don't think we can use your services. We're on a pilgrimage, see, and using the services of those not of the faith, well, that's just asking for divine vengence!!"

[Athaleon]

"We can handle ourselves out there. And on top o' that we got too little coin to hire ya," Zadkiel added. "Doubt we're worth your time, honestly," he shrugged.

Spoiler

Show

Bluff or Diplomacy? Either way, it's (1d20+14)[31]

[MesiDoomstalker]

The Gnoll's gregarious grin didn't falter but there was a notable pause before she responded. I understand. My people tend to stick to our own religious circles as well. Where are you heading, if I may ask? I know the nearby locales very well. I can give you advice on how to avoid hazards or best routes. For free of course! My name isTresnu, by the way. She offered her hand for a handshake.