The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

The Cult of The Forgotten Pharaoh has rampaged through Osirion. Skulking through the shadows, and massing in the light of day, they have tried to resurrect one of the region's more powerful priest-kings. They've assassinated political figures, broken into ancient tombs, summoned daemons, and destroyed an entire city. The Desert Falcons have been there every step of the way, arms and voices raised in negation.

It was inevitable that they would, in-time, clash with the Sky Pharaoh himself. Once they found him, that was.

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

And now... the final chapter...

Getting The Band Back Together

After scattering the forces of the Forgotten Pharaoh's cult, and preventing them from summoning his Mind, the Desert Falcons freed Hakar. Once unbound, the masked merchant revealed himself as a lord of the efreet, and the ruler of the City of Ash. In return for the Falcons' aid Hakar offered his old friends gifts. To Moloch, he infused his undead bloodline with life, granting him more robust health, and removing some of the stains of undeath from his body. To Umaya, he gave one of his great scimitars; a weapon capable of being wielded only by those of djinni blood, or who are strong enough to be deemed worthy of their steel. To Mustafa, he gave the other blade... and as the master of magics easily hefted the weapon, the truth of his parentage was revealed. Ra'ana, though, had only one desire; to once more walk alongside her lost companion Caladral.

So Hakar led them on a journey through the planes, and into the realm of champion's reward. When asked by his old friends to return to life, Caladral finished his ale, and said he would be happy to. Especially since they needed him now more than ever.

Ancient mummified despot isn't going to depose himself, after all.

With the original crew back together, Hakar opened a portal from the City of Ash, back to the material plane. From there, he told them, they will be on their own.

The True Face of Mumanofra

Once they return to the world they left behind, the Desert Falcons cast for the trail of the Forgotten Pharaoh and his minions. Though they've suffered a major defeat, there is word they have been taking slaves (and converts) from all across Osirion. The Falcons follow the trail, and find themselves outside another excavation in the deep desert. An excavation where the only visible sign of a living presence is a single, well-lit tent, a hoard of gnoll taskmasters, and their pens of slaves.

Sounds like they're playing our song...

The camp was well-defended by gnoll captains and champions, but they were unprepared for the savagery that fell upon them. Hoards of summoned monsters rampaged into the gnolls' ranks, laying about them with brutal force as Moloch called them forth from the ether. Stone melted, exploding into searing magma that instantly cooled into vicious daggers of glassy stone as Mustafa let forth the heat of his blood's true potency. Umaya walked carefully, almost deliberately, through the ranks, leaving a wake of bloody bodies behind her. And Ra'ana cut a swath through the slavers, until she stood before their captain; the undead monstrosity that, when he lived, had been the one who made her a slave.

His head fell atop the pile, like a gem in the crown of the night's work.

Of course, the true task was still ahead. In the single tent, which was a gateway to a massive manor house in its own, small pocket realm, was the leader of this horror show. The dark, twisted soul for whom the suffering of the nation was but a passing amusement, and who intended to profit herself as much as possible from it. Lying upon a dais, attended by enchanted servants, was Mumonofra... the advisor to the Ruby Prince the Falcons had met ever so briefly in passing.

No sooner had she greeted them then she showed them her true face; the twisted, tiger-furred visage of a rakshasa. Not just any rakshasa, though... one of the rare Maharaja. Amused by their struggles outside, Mumonofra spread her arms, and invited the Falcons to revenge themselves upon her, if they felt they were able.

They did, indeed, feel they were able. Green lightning and screaming frost filled with the cries of the damned flew from Moloch's hands. Umaya and Ra'ana sprang toward the horrific creature, their blades striking true time and time again. Caladral's fast fingers drew forth wand, after scroll, after trick, pulling out every advantage he could manage. Mustafa, enraged as only someone with fire in his faith and his veins can be, systematically stripped Mumonofra's defenses, dispelling and removing every protection she had to keep her vulnerable.

And it was for that act that she slew him.

The Ruby Prince, and The Final Showdown in The Sky

Though Mumonofra was defeated, there was a greater threat looming. She was the one who found the ancient, flying pyramid, and she was also the one who excavating a smaller version in the deep desert. A missing piece of the original. It could, in theory, be used to hunt down the Sky Pharaoh, and to put an end to the threat he posed.

But first, the Desert Falcons needed to resurrect another of their fallen companions. And they did not have the luxury of calling on a djinni lord for his favor.

Well... there IS this one guy...

The Desert Falcons packed up the treasures of the campsite, and trekked to the capital city of Sothis. They hope that word of their deeds, the truth about one of the Ruby Prince's closest advisors, and the dire straits the kingdom was in would be enough for him to lend his aid. After all, as the risen guard can attest, Khemet is a master of resurrection magics.

The journey was grueling, but the Falcons managed to catch favorable winds, and arrive in Sothis in less than a few weeks. With some friends in high places, they managed to secure a secret audience with the Ruby Prince himself... though they had to come in the dark of the night, and in secret. Khemet met them with a smile, and gentle words. He knew of their deeds, and to the Falcons surprise, also knew of Mumonofra's true nature. As thanks for dealing with her, and for their willingness to risk their lives on behalf of his kingdom, he resurrected Mustafa.

Then, with his royal blessing, he sent them on to what would be their final battle in the skies... one way, or another.

A Challenge of Ages

Upon returning to the dig site, it didn't take the scholars and spellcasters long to understand the true purpose of the smaller pyramid. It, like its larger cousin, flew. It used life energy, and raw magical power, to defy the laws of the material plane on a grand scale. Unwilling to sacrifice huge numbers of living humans, as Mumonofra had been going to, they instead choose to unbind the power in relics, and in themselves, to provide the pyramid with the energies it needs. After several, grueling days, they took to the air, and were soon flying toward the Sky Pharaoh's palace.

And none too soon, either. For he was outside Sothis, attempting to loose the spawn of Rovagug onto the region once more.

When the Falcons got within range of the pyramid, their own ship offered to dock them. It fit into the underside of the Sky Pharaoh's vessel, securing itself automatically. With not a moment to lose, they quickly disembarked, and began climbing their way to the top of the structure.

Which is not to say there was no resistance...

The pyramid was filled with the living dead, and the Falcons had to navigate the colossal necropolis to finally find the throne room of the dead priest king. Shambling zombies, half-prepared mummies, and an undead blue dragon all barred the Falcons' way, but none proved a hefty enough barrier to their determination to end this thing once and for all.

In the highest room, at the pinnacle of the pyramid, the Falcons found the Sky Pharaoh attended by over a hundred ardent worshipers. They were bowed in silent contemplation and worship, their faith and life forces powering the ship's weapons as much as the pharaoh's magics. The tranquil scene wasn't tranquil for long, though.

Before the Falcons could close the distance, the Sky Pharaoh raised a hand. Three huge constructs rose to their feet, and marched toward them. The Heart, the Ka, and the Mind, all put inside a huge golem, each with its own, unique abilities. And, to make matters worse, the Sky Pharaoh began slaying his worshipers, raising their bodies as zombies, and their spirits as shadows.

What followed was a chess match as the Falcons tried to counter the two-pronged assault. Ra'ana and Umaya rushed the constructs laying into them with steel and raw might, dodging and absorbing blows that would have killed lesser adventurers. Mustafa and Moloch tended to the undead, putting them to rest before they could sap their companion's strengths, or overwhelm them with numbers. It seemed a hopeless struggle, but just as Caladral had fallen to one knee, and Moloch was shuddering, on the verge of spending the last of his arcane energies, Ra'ana broke through the ranks, and slashed her blade across the Sky Pharaoh's throat. His head tumbled to the ground, and two of the constructs vanished. The Ka and the Mind had been little more than half-real illusions, mimicked by the Sky Pharaoh's magic... only the Heart was real, as it was the only piece that the cult had managed to hang onto.

The End of The Adventure

With the Sky Pharaoh slain, and the massive pyramid under their command, the Desert Falcons flew it away from Sothis. With some difficulty, as they were still depleted and wounded, they landed it near the oasis outside the crystal dragon's cave. The undead had dropped where they were, and those people who yet lived stumbled into the daytime, as if awoken from a dream. The pyramid was too dangerous to be left unguarded, though.

So the Falcons took the wisest course of action they knew. They allowed the Littlest Pharaoh (the true manifestation of the Sky Pharaoh's pure ka), to move his people into the pyramid. They dedicated chambers to the storing of relics and books, and asked Matthew to be the custodian (since it was a far cry from hell). The crystal dragon was asked to allow it to stand within her lands, and the Ruby Prince was asked for his blessing.

Once all of that was dealt with, the Falcons went their separate ways. Ra'ana and Caladral to visit old haunts, Umaya to return to her people with tales of glory and honor, and Moloch went north to Ustalav to continue his trade as a freelance exorcist. And Mustafa? No one was quite sure what happened to the strange, form-shifting spellcaster. But there are those who say that, if he needs to be found, there is a masked merchant named Hakar who always seems to know just where he is.

And for folks curious about what happened to Mustafa afterward, well, he wound up on the Clerical Errors episode of Dungeon Keeper Radio's show Mythconceptions.

That's all for this week's Table Talk installment. Whew! The final tale. Hopefully you all enjoyed the journey. If folks are interested in more complete stories of other campaigns (and even other adventure paths), I'm about halfway through Rise of The Runelords with my group right now... so we'll see what stories come out of that one. Until then, feel free to follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter to get all my latest updates, and to check out my archive over at Gamers for additional gaming content. And, if you want to help keep Improved Initiative going, consider going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! $1 a month goes a long way, and gets you some sweet swag in the process.

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh

The Desert Falcons have met every threat and every challenge, but somehow the Cult of The Forgotten Pharaoh has been one step ahead of them the whole time. They've destroyed a city, kidnapped a genie lord, and may be on the verge of resurrecting the essence of one of the most powerful rulers to ever hold Osirion in his iron fist.

So what do they do? They go to save their friend, of course.

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

Now It's Personal

The Desert Falcons don't have much time, but what they do have is a daemonic ally willing to do them another favor before he goes off on his own to see how the world has changed since he was stuck in a musty library basement. So they write out letters, asking their allies to meet us for a great battle to the north, near the sphinx where the cult is making their preparations. They reach out to the thriae, to the criminal muscle of the Viper, and to the various mercenaries and warriors they've met throughout their travels so far. Matt teleports off to deliver the notes, and the Falcons head north to meet whatever awfulness their nemesis has waiting for them.

Yeah... it's probably something like that.

On their way north, the Falcons meet up with another motley group; a band of bullette-riding desert guides. Through the use of an extremely high Diplomacy, and the application of a healthy amount of gold, the riders showed them a shortcut through the dunes. Not only that, but they gifted Mustafa with an ancient medallion; one which showed the eye of Ra. It granted protection to the wearer, but once per day it also banished any evil outsider back to its home plane.

It took nearly a week of travel through the inhospitable waste, until they came across the cultists. It was near sunset, and the cult was in the midst of a summoning. They appeared to be calling for something infernal, and no sooner have the Falcons realized this than Matthew appears. Bound by the cult to find and slay the Falcons, he immediately starts walking into the dunes. Mustafa had enough time to cast a circle of protection before the hulking, shaggy daemon lumbers over the dune. He apologized profusely, but he had to do what he was bound to do. After several rounds of conversation, Mustafa asked Matthew to cover his eyes. The daemon was about to laugh, until Mustafa parted his robe, revealing the amulet. Matthew covered his eyes, and then vanished in a puff of bright, golden light.

Blood on The Sand

Ra'ana went off on her own to recon the cult's setup, and in the process managed to make contact with the Falcons' allies. They formed a battle plan, and as dawn broke, they charged over the dunes, burst from beneath them, and swooped down out of the sky to stop the gold-masked cultists from completing their plan.

Ready your weapons!

The great battle covered several arenas, but the enemy facing the Falcons was a powerful necromancer, as well as one of the heads of the cult. Waves of undead shambled toward them as he unleashed dark energies and fell powers. Though the walking dead were soon returned to their former, inert state, the negative energy and life-sapping bolts couldn't be so easily dismissed. In the end, Moloch tapped into the reserves of his own undead bloodline, calling forth skeletal hands to rip and tear at the necromancer, dragging him down to face his own judgment at Pharasma's feet.

It's not long after the Falcons' small victory that a larger victory rings over the sands. The cult has been routed, and their ritual disrupted... disrupted, but not stopped. What did they do? Can it be undone? And what does Hakar have to do with any of it?

Find out next time when Table Talk continues the Search For The Mummy's Mask!

If you want to keep up-to-date on my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you want to help support Improved Initiative, then head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! For as little as $1 a month you can make a difference, and get some sweet swag all your own while you're at it.

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords

When last we left the Desert Falcons they'd rescued the royal grubs of the thriae, and freed a number of slaves from a pack of gnoll traffickers. They'd slain a roc, and were on their way to stop the Cult of The Forgotten Pharaoh from uncovering a buried tomb that might possess some relic of ancient power.

Nail-biting, isn't it?

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

Caught up? Glorious!

The Dead Digging For The Dead

The Cult of The Forgotten Pharaoh brought a crew of diggers with them into the empty quarter, but they didn't bring enough food or water for them. That's all right, a little magic can keep them digging even after their hearts stop beating. With a pair of lamia overseeing the work crew, we arrive just as the cultists are opening the tomb. We don't know what lies inside, but we know they can't get their hands on it.

First, though, we need to deal with the overseers.

The horde of walking dead were brought there to be workhorses, not warriors. Two blasts from a simple fireball wand sent them to a well-deserved rest. The lamia, though, weren't taking the interruption of the digging lying down. While the first thought it would dispatch the party with haste, it quickly learned that it was poor strategy at best to close ranks with Ra'ana and Umaya. Before it could recover from the mistake, or its ally could come to its aid, it was bleeding its last onto the desert sands.

The second lamia, clearly the senior manager of the two, left an illusion behind her, and rushed into the darkness of the chamber below. While Mustafa and Moloch saw through the illusion with ease, it took time for them to convince the rest of the party to follow them past the howling dragon, and down into the depths in pursuit.

The lamia was waiting, and worse, it was waiting while invisible. And it had friends.

The cultists, who had yet to explore the final room, had only moments before the Desert Falcons swept down onto them. Holy words lit the room with burning light, and shrieking lightning left the remnants of the erstwhile necromancers blasted against the walls. Her allies slain, and the surprise lost, the lamia fled even further into the lost tomb. And once more, the Desert Falcons followed.

It was in the final room that we found deadly opposition, in the form of two golems. The arena split the party, and left Umaya and Ra'ana each desperately battling their own opponents. Mustafa blessed their blades, and lent strength to their sword arms, but it was nearly in vain as Ra'ana fell to the lamia's spear, and Umaya collapsed just after scattering her clockwork enemy to the far corners of the room. Even the archer who had come with them fell to the bloody fists of the mithril golem.

Before the lamia could deliver the deathblow, though, fire lit in Mustafa's eyes, and he hurled a ball of molten brass into her chest. The ball exploded, and the lamia fell to the floor, her lifeless eyes staring up at the roof. Moloch, one eye on the murderous construct, leaped down to heal Umaya, pouring the last of his wand's precious magic into her wounds. Once she was back on her feet, it only took a single swing of her falchion to dispatch the final foe. With a soft prayer to his goddess, Mustafa poured life back into Ra'ana, and she stood strong once more... though perhaps with a few more scars to add to her impressive collection.

A City in Ruins

In the depths of the ruin, the Desert Falcons find a second part of the Sky Pharaoh's immortality. Possessing the heart and the soul, they leave the blasted sands behind to return to Tephu...

But when they arrive at the oasis, they hear the city was attacked, and huge swaths of it destroyed.

Did another party of adventurers come through here while we were gone?

No one knows who it was, but they wore strange, golden masks. More importantly, though, they arrived in a flying pyramid that fired a great beam of light into the city's very heart. It wasn't until a mysterious merchant named Hakar came forward, and offered himself and his knowledge, that they left. Desperately afraid for their friend's life, the Desert Falcons needed to get Hakar back. Because either he is not what he seems, and had fallen into enemy hands, or he is a man totally out of his depth who made a foolish bargain.

Either way, they need to do right by him.

That's why they returned to the deeper library without permission, and made a deal with Matthew. They asked if he were released from the spell that bound him there, would he retrieve their friend? The daemon agreed, and Mustafa destroyed the sigils that bound Matthew in place. With a polite thank you, he winked out of existence, and teleported into the ether.

Several hours later, while the Falcons ate and rested, Matthew reappeared in their rooms. He reappeared alone, though. Sitting on a cushion, he accepted food and drink before he told them what had happened. Yes, he had found Hakar with relative ease. But when he tried to rescue him from the Cult of The Forgotten Pharaoh, Hakar refused to come with. The Falcons asked how a mere man could resist someone as strong as Matthew.

Matthew told us that when a genie lord tells you to go, that you go, and thank them for not burning you to ash as a farewell gift.

So, with Hakar's true nature revealed (and immortalized with our DM's permission in the collection 100 Merchants to Encounter from Azukail Games), the Desert Falcons have some hard decisions to make. What will they do? Well, stop by next time, and find out!

That's all for this installment of Table Talk. Hopefully you're enjoying the story, because we're coming up on the final installments. If you want to stay up-to-date on all my latest posts, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And, lastly, if you want to help support me and my work head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. This is all made possible by donations from folks like you, and $1 a month can make a big difference.

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Seven: Needle in A Haystack

The Desert Falcons have braved hordes of undead monstrosities, uncovered a mystery cult, and are trying to locate the remnants of a powerful, lost pharaoh. One member has fallen to a fell trap, and they are heavy with grief and rage. Deep in the desert's empty quarter is someone deserving of those frustrations... if they can find those they seek.

If you're not caught up, check out the previous installments below:

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

Caught up? Good! Because it's into the furnace blast of the empty sands we go...

Finding The Needle In The Haystack

The Falcons left Tephu with a camel, supplies, and the remnants of their departed companion Caladral. They also hired a mercenary on their way out of town, a broad-shouldered archer with a good deal of orc blood in him. They headed south of the city to an oasis, where caravaneers from across Osirion were trading gossip, news, and goods. Gnolls were taking slaves, a Roc was entering its nesting season, and there were rumors about strange doings deep in the desert where few living people ever ventured.

The DM looked around the table, and laid out a huge hex map. Each hex was a day's worth of travel, and the men we sought were somewhere out there. We were each allowed to gather information, and to then randomly select a single hex that we had learned about. With over 70 possibilities, Mustafa took his index finger, and prodded a seemingly random location...

I see something shiny!

... which just happened to be the exact hex where the Cult of the Forgotten Pharaoh has summoned a small army of undead diggers to unearth a lost tomb.

With their destination located quickly, the Falcons packed up, and headed out across the dunes. They had no time to waste.

A Short Distraction

A week into the desert, no more than a day away from their destination, the Falcons were set upon by a pack of gnoll slavers. They mistook the Falcons for defenseless prey, and were sorely mistaken. While picking through their packs, though, the party discovered something strange. An urn of royal jelly... the sort used to feed the royal larva of the thriae, an insect race not too far to the north. So, as they're in the neighborhood, they decide to return the stolen property before continuing on their quest.

After a tense standoff with thriae soldiers, the Falcons are welcomed in, and given some horrific news. The queen is dead, and the larva were made off with by a group of slavers... a far larger group than the ones who attacked the Falcons in the night. They went to the south, and might be as much as a week in that direction. Longer if the Falcons veer around a noted Roc nesting in a spire of stone.

The tomb has been buried for a thousand years or more. The babies may not be able to wait.

Slavers... why did it have to be slavers?

There is no decision to be made in the minds of the Desert Falcons. They depart, moving fast on the trail of the kidnapped grublings, not even bothering to swing wide of the Roc's nest. The huge bird attacks, but doesn't even have a chance to come within melee range before it's brought down by a storm of arrows, and a hail of fire. Unperturbed, they continue on, pushing through the night until they see the lights of the gnoll encampment. Ra'ana recons it, and brings back an estimate of their numbers.

The solution? Walk right in, and let everyone go free.

The guards watching the desert night barely had time to get a shout in edgewise before they fell beneath the threshing blades of Ra'ana and Umaya. Those who tried to run were shot down by the archer. One managed to stumble into the chieftan's tent, and he and his lieutenants joined the fray. Cowardly and vicious, the gnolls tried to use the slaves they'd taken as human shields. The combined arcane might of the Chelish exorcist and the Osirion firebrand made short work of them, and once their captors were dead, the slaves were released. The grublings were crying, hidden in the tent.

A good deed done, the Falcons started the slow trudge back across the sands. They butchered the remains of the Roc, poured water from the air, and sent the kidnapped victims on to the oasis before returning the tiny princesses to the thriae. They had made allies of the hive, and the thriae assured us that if they could repay the favor we had done them, then they would.

What Awaits Beneath The Sands?

With so much time spent, the Falcons set off on the end of their initial journey to confront the Cult of the Forgotten Pharaoh... what awaits beneath the sands? Well, join us next week to find out whether the time spent on side quests doomed their efforts, or if they still managed to come upon the cult before they found the treasure they sought.

That's all for this week's Table Talk installment. The rest of this campaign is going to move pretty fast from here on out. Don't miss a single installment by following me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And, if you want to help support Improved Initiative, head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. All it takes is $1 to buy my everlasting gratitude, as well as some sweet swag of your very own!

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...

The Desert Falcons have been on the trail of the Cult of The Forgotten Pharaoh, trying to stay one step ahead of the assassin's knives. Tephu's great library was said to have the information they seek, but the stacks only led to more questions. They received permission from the head librarian to investigate the forbidden section... but will they find answers, or certain death?

For those of you just joining us, check out the previous installments here:

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

All caught up? Lovely! Because now it's time to descend into the lost library...

Down in The Depths

The Desert Falcons entered the locked section of the library, and found themselves atop a set of musty stone stairs. Stale air wafts across their skin, and as Mustafa casts light it reveals hundreds of names scratched into the wall. Some of which have been there for years, and others that have been there for centuries. Rust red stains mar the stones near the letters, and there's a fetid stink from below. An animal musk, and a shuffling. Out of the darkness hulks a massive creature, with burning, yellow eyes, and horns wet with the damp of the depths. His claws flexed, and heavy lips pulled back from sharp fangs. With every step he took, he elucidated the torment that awaited us at his hands.

The eagerness went out of the ceustodaemon's eyes when we held up the pass from the head librarian, though, and his shoulders slumped.

Aww, please? I haven't said it in such a long time...

The library's first line of defense sighed, and slumped back into his hammock. Mustafa approached, and asked him what rules they should know about, and what dangers lurked ahead of them. The ceustodaemon sighed, and told us there were invisible stalkers in the hallway. There was also an intruder who had managed to evade him, and that if we found her that we should bring her to him.

He already had a brick on the wall picked out for her name.

Mustafa thanked him for his help, and the creature looked surprised. He'd apparently been taken for granted so long that common courtesy just wasn't something he expected. And while he wasn't going to tell us his name, since that was the sort of mistake that got him bound to the library several hundred years ago, we gave him a new name.

Matthew. Matt for short.

Getting Stoned, and Eating Chicken

The first thing we see upon stepping into the entry hall past Matthew's jurisdiction is a small reading room. There's a cloaked individual searching through the volumes, and it pays us no mind. However, since we have the only hall pass to get down here, this is quite suspicious. Moloch, relying on his charm and boyish figure, tries to catch her eye.

He succeeds, but then fails the save against the medusa's stare, and is turned to stone.

Surprise is typically the first response to seeing what's under that hood.

The medusa was the thief we'd been warned about, but while she'd petrified Moloch, she was not a match for Ra'ana's blades, or Umaya's falchion. Backed into a corner, she makes us a deal. She will deliver a tome to the Viper (paying back the debt we owe the crime boss), if we spare her life. We decide this is worthwhile, and show her mercy. Mustafa even heals her wounds before he shrinks the surprised statue of Moloch down to pocket size, and puts him in a hip bag.

A new enemy turned into a temporary ally, we left the stacks, got some lunch, and restored our sorcerer back to his former fleshy state. And proper size.

Once we'd had a chance to rest, relax, pray, and finish scrubbing off the last traces of scaly stone, we headed back into the library. Mustafa brought a package of chocolates, and a small board game for Matthew, and we then proceeded into the main stacks. After avoiding the invisible stalkers, naturally. The central stair had a huge number of volumes, precarious stairs, and a design that seemed to have been made by a mad person. What we found was references to the Sky Pharaoh's time as ruler, the number of floating cities he commanded, and the name of his royal engineer. But that was about it.

There was deeper to go, however.

At the bottom of the curving stair there was a trap door, and at the bottom of the trap door there was a ladder. At the bottom of the ladder there was a half-complete golem, which was scattered in two rounds by curative magic. Then behind a secret door, opened with a handy knock spell, we find a clustered room of truly powerful books, scrolls, and tomes. One of them even has a void that led to another plane of existence, which belched out four inter-dimensional quadrupeds. Those beasts give us a merry fight, but in time they were forced back into the breach from which they came.

Which is when Caladral found the heavily locked door, which leads to what looks like the last vault. Unfortunately when he tries to disable the trap, he gets hit with a baleful polymorph spell, and is turned into a chicken. Then a chime of hunger rings out, and half the party fails their save. Mustafa and Ra'ana try to save their transfigured party member, while Moloch and Umaya are desperately trying to eat him. While the chicken wasn't eaten, Umaya did take its head off with the edge of her blade. Then the spell lost its grip, and they were left realizing what it was they'd just done.

A Lost Cause, and Empty Bookshelves

It was a heavy toll to get into the last room, and what the Desert Falcons found was not worth the efforts. Several destroyed clockwork guardians, and a shelf of tomes that had been stolen. Little enough to reward a bloodied, heartsick band with. But they also found several gilded masks they were familiar with, and a clue that led them to the empty desert.

Vast stretches of empty sand dunes, and somewhere among them a cult of madmen digging in the dust to resurrect forgotten gods. Grief would wait... for now, there was work to be done.

What will happen next? Tune in, and find out during my next Table Talk feature! If you'd like to help support me and my blog, then head to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. All it takes is $1 a month to get my undying gratitude, as well as some sweet swag! Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, you should probably go do that.

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?

When last we left our intrepid adventurers, the Desert Falcons had stemmed the tide of the rising dead before it could consume the city of Wati. With the immediate threat dealt with, they found themselves in possession of an ancient pharaoh's death mask, and surrounded by the corpses of all the people who could have told them what it was and what it did. With no help to be had in town, and the massive column of black stone traded to the crystal dragon for safekeeping, we set off to find out what eldritch powers had been unleashed... before they come to find us.

If you missed the previous arc, here's a lit of the installments:

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

All caught up? Lovely! Because we're on our way to Tephu...

All Your Answers Can Be Found in The Library

The Desert Falcons left Wati at their backs, and went to the city of Tephu. While not the size and grandeur of the capital city, Tephu is a bustling center of culture, commerce, and intrigue. Most importantly, though, Tephu has an ancient library. A library which may have the answers to our current quest.

Death masks... death masks... what dynasty is it from, do you know?

Upon arrival in the city, the first thing we do is find a comfortable inn with a suite of rooms to let, and which provides hummus. Properly armed with snack food, tea, and curiosity, we enter the library to start our digging. The assistants help us in finding books, bringing volumes to a study nook. Moloch, mostly enveloped by a wing-back armchair, digs through tales of dark times, and the powers of necromancy which seem related in some way to the mask. Caladral dusts off historical treatises on the lines of kings, trying to connect what we know about the death mask to the ancient funeral rites. Meanwhile Mustafa is curled up on a floor cushion, his attention flitting from one volume to another. Books float in front of him with the snap of a finger, the pages turning as he browses through religious tomes, searching for the connection between the faiths of ancient Osirion and this forgotten king.

We don't find much. There's some oblique references to someone known as the Sky Pharaoh, and that he may have held power during the time of a forgotten kingdom when cities floated in the sky. Not much to show for two days worth of digging.

While the academics are flexing their minds, Umaya settles in to wait, occasionally reading from a rare volume of dwarven myths and fairy tales. The Littlest Pharaoh occasionally joins her, enjoying the exotic stories. Ra'ana, impatient with the reading and occasional hums of curiosity, explores the library. She finds, with no surprise, that the area open to the public is limited. To travel beyond a certain point, we would need to be granted specific access by a higher power. Either that, or face dire consequences for trespassing.

Getting That VIP Pass

Since we need to get into the rare books section, and we'd really rather not call down the wrath of whatever is guarding that section of the library, we decide to try and get access legitimately. Caladral puts out some feelers, and manages to call in a favor from the Order of The Blue Feather. As a result, we are given a meeting with Mumonofra, one of the Ruby Prince's personal advisers. She agrees to see us on her personal pleasure barge, and we all immediately step out of our comfort zones.

Our hostess, if she wore a little less makeup, and was a lot cuddlier.

Mumonofra makes it quite clear early on that she has no interest in our goals, or in providing us with aid; not unless she finds us entertaining. Given that we're a group of scholars, warriors, exorcists, and historians, being entertaining is really not our strong suit. So, though we do our best to capitalize on what little fame we have, and to share tales of the great crystal dragon who helped us defeat and army of the dead, that simply wasn't flying. After about half an hour or so, we are asked rather brusquely to depart.

Thoroughly disheartened, and with tensions riding high, we retreat to our rooms to try and find another patron to give us the access we need. Fortunately one of the city's crime lords, the infamous Viper, has heard of our plight. We're given a meeting, and told that arrangements could be made for us to plead our case with the head librarian. We do so, after paying a fee of gratitude and parting with treasures to cement our good relationship with our new friends in low places. The next day, early in the morning, we're shown in to meet the head librarian. She's harried, and already seems to have her mind on her next appointment. We plead our case, and point out that when we asked Mumonofra for help, we were summarily dismissed.

That got her attention. Because it seems that all we had to do was mention the self-indulgent noblewoman didn't want us to gain access to the deeper stacks. Spiting Mumonofra seemed to be enough of a reason for us to be given the keys. Of course, it didn't hurt that, once we knew we were in good company, that we expressed our honest opinions of the day on the barge.

What Happened Next?

As we were handed the talismans and passkeys that would allow us into the older sections of the library, we were warned. Those places were dangerous. Some of the books were haunted, and sections of the library were guarded by both curses and creatures. We should be wary, because while the keys would get us past some threats, it was by no means safe.

And, if we wanted to, the library would be quite grateful if we did away with some of the... less necessary defenses that had outlived their usefulness.

Want to know what strange dangers we found in the stacks? Tune in next time for part six!

That's all for this week's Table Talk installment. If you like it, share it with your friends! If you have your own stories you'd like to tell, don't be shy. I'm happy to feature other folks in this section from time to time. If you'd like to support Improved Initiative, then drop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and donate $1 a month. It's a small amount, but it gets you some sweet swag and helps me pay my bills on time. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, well, why not start today?

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Four: Fight Night At The Necropolis

When last we left the Desert Falcons they'd been claim jumped by another party, and then promptly ambushed by a religious zealot. The kid gloves came off, and magic and steel left the sands bloody that day. We handed over our prisoners, including the priest who was stripped of his rank, and handed over to Hakar, whom he had so grievously insulted, for fitting punishment. Which was, coincidentally, to become his new apprentice. A task which mostly involves hauling around the merchant's cart. The last claim jumper remain at large, though, and we have a bad feeling about what she intends to do with that mask she took.

If you need to catch up, the previous installments are located right here:

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

And now, part four, where the dead rise, and terrible things befall the city of Wati...

Fight Night at The Necropolis

At first, everything seemed fine. We managed to make our way back to friendly quarters unscathed, and the Pharasman clerics do not hold us responsible for anything that happened. So we reconnoiter at the inn, and wait for the other shoe to drop.

It came sooner that we expected, and from a direction we had been hoping it wouldn't.

There was a whole city of eager recruits just waiting to be pressed into service.

The city is quiet for several days. The spelunking in the necropolis is mostly complete, and the more expensive (but not as culturally important) relics are going up for auction. There are weapons and armor, a sarcophagus, and the chariot that we found shined up and good as new.

As always, it's in the middle of the auction where things go wrong.

Outside are the sounds of screams, and the moan of something inhuman. The doors burst open, and in shuffles a hoard of the walking dead. The nobles and wealthy patrons attending the auction panic, at which point the Falcons go to work. Umaya charges into the fray, slashing left and right with her falchion. Ra'ana takes up a position next to the door, her twin blades hacking flesh and splintering bone. Mustafa stands at the mouth of the bottleneck, fire erupting from his hands and eyes. Caladral dashes in, stabbing deep into his foes before retreating. It's only when the sarcophagus starts to shudder that Mustafa takes to the stage, and roasts the mummified thing inside it with burning hands that the battle is declared over.

There is a war in the street, though. And it's a war we need to join. Which is when Hakar pulls a wand from his robes, summons a mount, and we ride into the streets in the back of the war chariot.

Stemming The Tide, And Finding A Solution

The streets are filled with the walking dead. Fortunately we have a war wagon now, and we manage to fight off the hordes while saving as many people as we can find. Clearing the streets, we get them back to the church, where the priests are mounting a counter-offensive. With our help, they deploy around the necropolis, using ancient spells laid down in the past combined with their own power to help contain the ravenous zombies and tides of skeletons.

The wall won't last forever, though.

We've got a couple rounds... and then some.

We know someone is animating the dead, sending them out from the graveyards to engulf the city... but how? Then we remembered the onyx pillars we'd seen in the necropolis... pillars whose value as spell components far outstripped their petty, monetary worth. The sheer size of them alone would mean whoever was doing this could create as many undead as they wanted to. Especially if they didn't have to control them, and just wanted to funnel them out into the city.

If we were going to locate the necromancer, and stop them, we needed some help. Fortunately for us, there was a dragon in the vicinity.

You Went To Ask A What For Help Now?

Don't get ahead of me, now.

Without hesitation, we mount up and ride for a local oasis. The area is known to be under the protection of a powerful dragon, and for a crisis of this size we need assistance. So we arrive, dusty and sweaty, on her doorstep. Cavestep... whatever.

We are invited in, and we walk into the mouth of a cave. It slips beneath the dunes, with bright, crystal lights illuminating her hoard. Fine art, ancient relics, and statues unlike anything we've ever seen line the walkway down. It is a statement of power, of taste, and of wealth. She doesn't need to crouch over her treasures... she leaves them seemingly unguarded. Only the foolish would attempt to touch them without permission. We are no great fools, so we walk on.

Below the sands, in an arching, underground chamber, reclines a great crystal dragon. She is immense, surrounded by a staggering amount of treasure. Light sparkles on her scales, bathing the room in a radiant glow. We wait, showing her both respect and admiration as we believe she desires. We try not to worry about the fading day, or the imminent danger Wati is in. In time she raises her head, and regards us. She asks what we desire, and what we are prepared to give her for it.

We tell her the dead of ages are ravaging Wati, held back only by the will of the clergy and the light of the sun. We tell her that we need to find the necromancer, and stop them. As payment we offer the onyx towers, which are both great works of art, and relics of an ancient age. The faster we can stop what's happening, the faster she can get her newest acquisition.

A bargain is struck, and Crystal gives us a compass-like object that lets us locate someone via magical sympathy. And we still have a vial of the claim-jumper's blood.

Into The Fray!

We return with the dying sun, and as the assault recommences, we pour the blood into the compass. It points squarely into the necropolis. The clerics cannot let down their barrier, and time is running out. So we get into the war wagon, open the gates, and charge into the massing waves of shambling monsters.

Blinders... bullet train.

The dead had choked the front gate, but between gouts of fire, magic missiles, and well-aimed strikes from the ranger and the barbarian, we carved a path through them. Slow and dull-witted, the mob stopped following us in short order to resume battering at the gates. Of course, it wasn't long after we made it into the meat of the necropolis when another mob blocked out path. A mob guided by the woman we were seeking... who now wore a gilded mask. Worse, she had an abominable, two-headed hound towering over her, its jaws slavering with graveyard hunger.

That battle taxed us to within the last inch. The zombies clawed and bit, separating us while the hound ran in, struck, and pulled back. Its mistress commanded two powerful ghouls, as well, and they cut through our ranks. When Yana fell, though, and the dog retrieved his body for his mistress, that was when desperation turned to rage. Though the summoner was killed before we could save him, the woman behind the gilded mask met with a grisly fate. Mustafa brought his foot down, cracking the earth and tripping her before she could flee. Umaya took her head, stilling her tongue before it could utter any further foul magics.

Taking Refuge, And Finding A New Ally

Exhausted, wounded, and heartbroken over the loss of our comrade, we limp through the city to the manor house we cleansed on our previous visit. The wards and bindings that keep the undead from passing the walls are still functional, even after all these years, and we rest there. We are just making our preparations to push on into the northern quarter of the city of the dead, when we hear screaming. It seems that figures in black robes and gilded masks have staked out a man, and mean to sacrifice him.

That is not something we are comfortable allowing.

They hadn't even finished lighting the candles.

The gaunt man who was under the cult's knives was a Chelaxian by the name of Moloch Smith. A freelance exorcist, he'd tried to see how he could help. His powers had drawn the attention of the Cult of the Forgotten Pharaoh, though, and they wanted to add his power to the ongoing ritual. So, naturally, he was eager to come with us to give their leader what for.

On the warpath, we fight our way to a great tomb. Inside is a man in a mask, but unlike the gilded masks of his followers, his mask is pure gold. It is the mask we had stolen from us, and which has given him the power to resurrect an entire city worth of corpses to wreck havoc.

He is not alone, of course. Mummies stand ready to aid him, and as soon as he realizes he's threatened he puts out a call to the armies at our rear. We have only moments before we will be swept under, and crushed by the sheer weight of the dead. Ra'ana and Umaya rush in to clash with the mummies, but swiftly fall victim to fear and paralysis. Worse, the high priest summons a wall of ice, cutting us off from our companions. The hall behind is full of rattling moans, and the soft thumps of rotting footsteps.

The magicians have had enough.

Moloch sprinkles bone dust on the ground, calling out to the ether, and summoning a pair of skeletal dire rats to block the hallway at our rear. Mustafa pries a handful of small coins from his pouch, and as he chants they melt into a ball of molten slag. He flings the projectile against the barrier, and it explodes, ice flying in all directions. A lightning bolt throw by Moloch follows, smashing more ice from the path. A soft intonation, and a healing ward of bright light later, the fear has been soothed from our fighters, and they're back in the fray.

The mummies never stood a chance.

The tables turned against him, the cult leader attempts to use guile, vanishing beneath a curtain of invisibility. It isn't long before he's found, though, and Caladral engages him sword to staff. A critical hit later, the man falls, the mask skittering through the dust. As his life force leaves him, the will that was keeping the spell going collapses. The dead shamble to a halt, falling in on themselves in reeking, dusty piles. Wati is safe... for the moment.

But as we lift that golden mask, we have to wonder... what strange forces are circling round our heads?

That's all for this week's installment of Table Talk, but if you want to see what becomes of the Desert Falcons when they leave Wati in search of answers, then tune-in next time! If you'd like to help keep stories just like this one coming, then why not stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page in order to become a patron? All it takes is $1 a month to help Improved Initiative, and to get some sweet swag. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter... what's stopping you?

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Three: Enemies on All Sides

When last we left the intrepid adventurers known as the Desert Falcons, they had been excavating tombs, turning up ancient history, and doing their best to make friends with their fellow adventurers in the city of Wati. It was in their third delve into the necropolis, though, that they realized there was something deeper at work. That forces long buried were beginning to awaken...

If you haven't caught up with the adventures yet, the previous installments can be found here:

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

Caught up? Lovely! Now then, on to the Temple of Nethys...

A Great Treasure Beneath The Sands

The Desert Falcons had faced horrors, but they stood undeterred by ancient curses, and withered guardians. The third lot they were given by the Church of Pharasma was an ancient place that had gone untouched for years. A temple dedicated to Nethys, there were those who were particularly afraid of the fell curses the servants of the half-mad god of magic would have left behind.

I'm sure it's just fine after all this time.

Upon arrival, we immediately notice there is something amiss. The temple is a grand structure, kept whole and apart from the ravages of time by powerful spells that are only just now beginning to lose their force. Ra'ana, with her sharp eyes, notes there are some tracks in the sand that has accumulated. All of us notice the smashed bones and broken corpses of what were likely the temple's eternal guardians. They've been slain, and recently. Someone, it seems, was displeased with their lot and was trying to jump our claim.

So, displeasure warring with caution, we followed the path of destruction, and made our way down into the bowels of the temple.

Tomb Raiders, and Cult Leaders

What we found was a room nearly cut in half. One part of it clean and orderly, the other ruined. The first was light, the second dark, just as Nethys is, and a huge crack ran down the center of the room. On a dais at the far end stood an undead creature, sword bare and armor ancient, but serviceable. Between us and him, are the members of one of the other raiding parties.

And they look less than happy to see us.

A few words are exchanged, and the situation soon becomes clear. An ancient mask was left in the care of this guardian, and the other group tried to get to it before anyone else could. They won't budge, and when their leader snaps her whip, it's time to remind them why we are not to be trifled with.

B'wana reared from the sand, and smashed into the enemy's eidolon. Umaya threw herself into the fray, slashing and laughing as she traded blows with the enemy's fighter. Ra'ana intercepted the tomb guardian, using every skill she knew to slay the undead. Mustafa offered the wizard and the cleric a chance to surrender. When they did not accept, they were cut down with fire and force.

The battle leaves us bloody, but it is quickly clear we will be the victors. Which is when the whip-wielding bard abandons the fray, steals the mask, and bolts up the stairs. Ra'ana gives chase, but by the time we reach the upper floor our quarry has hidden herself behind a veil of illusion. Ra'ana drinks a potion we found in a previous tomb, and though old, the magic still lets her see the invisible. Just before we close in, though, a huge insect is summoned into our path. Worse, two of the tomb's true guardians who had hidden in the walls burst forth. In the chaos she escapes, along with our prize. Though she left a bit of herself behind, and we collect the blood we drew from her. Just in case we need it later.

The Very Last Straw

We emerged from the temple battered, bruised, and in sour spirits. Some of our enemies perished in the battle, and some survived. The survivors were stabilized, and taken prisoner. Once they're bound, and gagged, we return to Wati with them in tow hoping to bring the matter before the church to get to the bottom of what is happening.

That's when we were ambushed.

You picked the wrong day.

One of the Pharasman priests believes we are holding back items of value found at our previous sites. He captured Hakaar, and beat him badly to try and get a confession out of him. Archers stand on the surrounding rooftops, and foot pads step from the shadows, curved knives glinting in their fists. It was meant to intimidate us into surrender. However, despite being wounded and with many of our resources spent, no one was allowed to simply hurt our friends and get away with it.

They were given a chance to lay down their arms, and walk away. Forgiveness would be given, or so Mustafa promised. Their response was jeers, and a volley of arrows. Our response was much worse.

Ra'ana and Umaya rushed into the fray, cracking the hired muscles' skulls like they were made of candy. B'wana slithered under the sand, cutting off their retreat, using her reach and natural attacks to make sure no one escaped. Fire flew from Mustafa's hands, as well as his eyes, as he and Yana burned down the archers. Those few who survived surrendered, or were captured before they could bleed out. Mustafa knelt outside the tent, and healed Hakaar. The merchant, touched that we would respect his anonymity, re-donned his clothes, and his face covering.

The priest who took it upon himself to apply pressure to our merry band was thrown on the cart with the other prisoners, and we went to the temple to speak with the high priestess.

Did the crocodile show mercy? Did the Desert Falcons find out who stole the mask, and what purpose it served? Tune in next time for part four, The City of The Restless Dead!

If you enjoyed this week's Table Talk entry, feel free to check out the archive. There's some tasty stuff in there, and you might find a story worth sharing with your group. If you'd like to help support Improved Initiative, then you should stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page, and consider leaving a donation. As little as $1 a month can make a big difference. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter yet, you should. That way you won't miss a single update.

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Two: Undead Children, And Resurrected Puppies

When last we left the Desert Falcons, they had discovered a city of tiny clay people in the basement of an ancient general's tomb. The Littlest Pharaoh chose to accompany them... but what adventures did they find after leaving the dusty depths of their first crypt?

If you missed the first installment, catch up by clicking the link below.

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

All caught up? Good, because things get shambling in the next chapter...

A Night of Celebration

So, we managed to escape relatively unscathed (physically, at least) from the general's tomb. We emerged with the Littlest Pharaoh stowed away among Mustafa's material components, and we turn over the significant treasures we found (the war chariot, and most of the gilded tomes) to the church leaders, as per our agreement with them. The city was discovered, of course, but it was preserved as historical art, rather than as a city of tiny, living clay people. We go back to the inn, we rest, have some hummus, drink a little wine, and rub elbows with our fellow adventurers. The tiny majesty watches in secret, and spends the rest of his time in our rooms.

So, what did you find in the necropolis?

It's really a rather merry bunch. Caladral is offering toasts and buying drinks, performing the unique magic of turning gold into liquor at a rapid pace. Ra'ana and Umaya are nursing their own drinks, washing the dust from their throats and keeping eyes out for trouble. Mustafa is involved in deep discussion with a pair of witchy sisters regarding portents and spells, their conversation dense enough that no one not steeped in mysticism would be able to follow it. And Yana is sharing a tankard with a rambunctious halfling by the name of Mad Dog, who goes adventuring with naught but a pack of hounds to watch his flanks.

After a night of rest, during which Mustafa unpacks his wizard's spellbook and prepares some arcane might to complement his divine power (and everyone else takes a second level in their existing classes), we are given a new assignment. A huge, walled manor that's been marked with Pharasma's spiral, and which is merely unexplored instead of unexplored and forgotten. It is deeper in the necropolis, though, and as such we should be sure we are prepared.

Then Undead Children

No sooner do we walk through the gates than we are beset by visions from the ancient past. The sounds of shuffling mobs, and the smells of burning and blood. A horrific callback that has lingered throughout centuries, leaving us shaken, and on edge. Then we stepped into the manor's side yard, and found it was full of mewling, shambling creatures.

I'm starting to get a "heart of darkness" theme here... if there were zombie babies.

These tiny corpses, reduced to little more than bones, pose no threat to our bodies. But what they represent is awful, and it sets something off in both Umaya, and Ra'ana. The two of them methodically destroy each creature, bringing their weapons down without malice, or rage. Every swing is heavier than the last, though, and when they reach the small slave quarters they find a half dozen restless dead still chained to the wall, left there for untold centuries. With a wave of his hand, and a quick prayer, Mustafa blows out their dark candles, and let their bones rest.

Filled with a horror that is has become a slow-burning anger, we enter the house, and find something worthy of that wrath. A snarling, bestial ghoul the size and shape of a Large dog, and with several, rotting heads full of too many teeth. Beneath Ra'ana's whirling blades, and Umaya's falchion, the thing doesn't stand a chance. Mustafa and Yana don't even need to bring their magic to bear, simply allowing the two warriors to spend their impotent frustration on the abomination that lurked in the upper floors.

Aside from the bizarre hound, though, there was nothing noteworthy in the house. Around the other side, though, we found a huge, skeletal creature waiting to snap up unwary prey. Umaya was unwary when it ambushed her, but its bones were ill-prepared for the assault of her flail, or for the bolts of acid and disruption that lanced into it as Mustafa and Yana threw back their sleeves, casting in near unison. Bloodied, but with no serious hurts that a brief prayer beneath Sarenrae's bright sun could not fix, we found a crypt.

The crypt's guardian, something that looked like a mummy but which was anything but, did not die easily. In fact, it nearly escaped, and was halfway up the wall before a handful of hurled flame from Mustafa brought it down, where its skull was pulped by a panting Umaya. Further down, hordes of undead cats came snarling and hissing from the shadows. Mustafa held out his hands, and sent wave after wave of positive energy crashing over the beasts. They fell, and crumbled. There were hundreds of them, though, and we couldn't figure out why.

Until we opened Schroedinger's coffer, that was...

Far in the back of the tomb there was a bizarre device. A coffer that held a single kitten. A kitten who, Mustafa determined after examining its box, had been kept alive for thousands of years by the sacrifice of the horde we had destroyed. So, capturing the cat (who was far from pleased at being snatched and put in a bag), we carried the strange coffer out of the tomb, and tried to decide what should be done with it.

A Hangdog Face, and Crocodile Tears

When we return to the inn, we find Mad Dog sitting at a table, surrounded by empty glasses. There are only two dogs with him now; one lying on the floor, dejected, and the other with her head in his lap, whining up at him. He'd lost the others, all for some stupid magic sword he didn't even want. It was a heartbreaking scene, and after the tragedies of the day, we decided to do something about this one.

Did you do what it sounds like you did?

Upon careful study and consideration, Mustafa pronounced that he believed they could bring one of Mad Dog's hounds back to his side. The pint-sized pack master retrieved the body of his big male, broken and bloody from its engagement, and handed it gingerly to us. We placed it inside the coffer, and carefully closed the lid. Mustafa offered prayers to his own goddess for guidance, and beseeched Erastil to look with favor upon Mad Dog's plight. To let this hound, a creature of both the wilds and the home, return to its master. We placed the hissing cat in the other part of the coffer, and asked that it be granted the end it was meant to have so many thousands of years ago.

Then, hoping for the best, Mustafa filled the thing with as much positive energy as he could generate, and Yana activated the coffer. The result? Mad Dog's hound leaped out, tongue wagging, and looking around eagerly. He seemed bigger than he had, more muscular, and perhaps with a sharper gaze, but it was the same dog all right. Mad Dog wrapped his arms around it, and cried into his fur. Then he thanked us with all his swelling, drunken heart. We accepted his thanks, but kept a wary eye on what we had done.

It seems that someone heard our prayers, though. That hound's forehead was soon bedecked with a pair of antlers, and it began prowling the town's back streets, sniffing out undead and dastardly threats to those who lived there. Deciding not to test our luck, we handed the coffer over to Hakar, under the condition that he not sell it to someone who would use it for evil or nefarious ends.

As if he would ever do such a thing!

What feats did the Desert Falcons achieve next? Tune in next time when I share the ambush at the square, and the awakening of the dead!

That's all for this week's Table Talk. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you have a tale of your own you'd like to share, feel free to get in touch, and I can give you your own moment in the spotlight! If you'd like to support Improved Initiative, and keep content just like this coming your way, then why not head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to leave me a tip? As little as $1 a month can make a big difference, and there's some sweet swag in it for you as well. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter, well, why not start today?