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File: Hidden Tomb Doorway.png (472 KB, 1024x447)
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You cast your eyes around the blasted desert, seeing nothing but dunes. No ruins, no cities, no doorways to underground tombs filled with riches. So this is where the map leads you, is it? Who in the name of Hakirya wrote these damn maps, anyway? Were they blind? Did they get it wrong? It doesn't matter. A sudden gust of wind throws sand at you, and you turn aside and let it brush off your hood. You are clad in covering robes, and the wind finds no purchase to blow in. You turn the other way to a short, ebony-skinned woman with robes and scarfs covering almost everything but her upper face, clutching a bow in one hand.

"Are you sure this is the right spot, Manyara?" you call to her. She puts a hand to the side of her head in an 'I can't hear you' gesture. You shuffle across the shifting sands to her, ably keeping your footing as wind erodes your footing even as you step towards it.

"Is this the right spot? Are you sure!" you repeat, and she nods. She extends her other arm out from inside her travelling robes. "Just a bit more on!" Manyara calls with her heavy native accent, and you believe her.

Your party moves on through the sands, dipping down another dune and out of the wind. Manyara slides down, and turns back to wave at you all, encouraging you to do the same. You feel more than you hear or see Mamoun attempting to slide down as gracefully as Manyara, but all he accomplishes is sending so much sand to either side that you feel like someone actually hit you in the side of the head. The enormous, fair-skinned man then proceeds to slip the wrong way and tumble sideways down the rest of the dune. The party shares a collective laugh at his misfortune. Already, Manyara is scaling the dune ahead.

At the top, she turns back and frantically waves you all up. You are the first to join her, and what you see sends your heart soaring into the sky. The Gate of the Hidden Moon, a surprisingly unobtrusive set of stone slabs formed into a doorway, with the top marked in the sigil of one of the great Princes of old. A double set of stone slabs shut off the rest of the tomb, but you can see some form of hinges.

Everyone takes a moment to process your success in their own ways. Mamoun behind you bellows with triumph, while Yusuf simply puts a hand on your shoulder, and gives you an intense look. He stretches his neck. You hold no doubts that he is ready for what comes next. You dip down the dune, so that your voice can be easily heard.

>...Mamoun, the almost-eight-foot mountain of muscle, strides forward. "I will open the way," he says, confidently, and sets his shoulder against one of the slabs.
>...Ibrahima, Manyara's lanky shaman younger brother, slides up to the door and begins whispering to his black-furred cat. The white spots on it shift, and a strange green energy gathers around him.
>...You reach for a pouch inside your robes, and produce a large, round clay sphere filled with alchemical powder. "Stand back!" you shout, lighting the bomb's fuse.
>>
>>1918772
>...Ibrahima, Manyara's lanky shaman younger brother, slides up to the door and begins whispering to his black-furred cat. The white spots on it shift, and a strange green energy gathers around him.
>>
>>1918772
>>...You reach for a pouch inside your robes, and produce a large, round clay sphere filled with alchemical powder. "Stand back!" you shout, lighting the bomb's fuse.
>>
>>1918778
Seconded
>>
>>1918781
Second
>>
>>1918772
>...Ibrahima, Manyara's lanky shaman younger brother, slides up to the door and begins whispering to his black-furred cat. The white spots on it shift, and a strange green energy gathers around him.
>>
>>1918778
>>1918784
>>1918842
>...Ibrahima, Manyara's lanky shaman younger brother, slides up to the door and begins whispering to his black-furred cat. The white spots on it shift, and a strange green energy gathers around him.

Writing.
>>
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>>1918772
Ibrahim slides down the dune in a peculiarly agile fashion, and his black cat somehow never leaves his shoulder. He stands in front of the door and shifts his outer robe off his shoulders. He holds his arms out to his side, his body forming a cross, and he begins whispering to his cat. At first nothing happens, then tiny white spots begin to appear on the cat, and shift across its fur into patterns, almost like constellations. Then a green light extends up from the sands and filters into the stone of the door. Somehow still visible inside the stone, it filters through into the door. That's when you notice it.

The air around Ibrahim is utterly devoid of colour. All you see is black, white, and shades of grey. Everyone is speechless as the display continues. By now the door is positively glowing a vibrant green rather than the hard yellow of sandstone. Ibrahim begins to slowly raise his arms above his head, and the cat leaps off his shoulder into the air, floating to place itself between his hands. Ibrahim drops to his knees, slapping his hands onto the sand.

The door explodes outwards and upwards with a sound of rushing wind that is somehow both serene and deafening at the same time. The door is no longer in one piece, but rains down on the desert behind you in tiny chunks, surely no bigger than your head each.

Huh. Amazingly, that's not even close to the most outlandish thing you've ever seen.

The air around Ibrahim returns to normal, and he turns back to the group, stepping back and gesturing for you to go through with an exhilarated grin. "After you, Mirza," he says to you, and you oblige him. "Did we really have to do that?" a strange voice asks from Ibrahim's direction. Strange, it looked like his cat was the one talking. That or the desert's getting to you. "Well done, Ibrahim." He nods graciously, but the cat looks outraged. Cats can look outraged? "I'll have you know that was all me," it says, huffily. You blink. "Don't mind him," Ibrahim tells you, grinning again at some unspoken joke.

Weird.

"Torches!" you call. "Fadil, stay with the camels, the rest of you, follow me!" You light a torch from your pack, wait for Mamoun and Shazi, a quiet woman with ludicrous accuracy with a bow and a silent step, to do the same. Shazi passes her torch to Manyara, and then you are all ready. You lead the way into the tomb.

As soon as you step inside, you are scanning the corridor for the telltales of a trap. You know how tricky the ancients could be with their tombs and temples. Nothing yet. The corridor quickly dips into a set of stairs, carved almost impossibly smoothly. The walls and ceiling, you note, are marked with all kinds of images and ancient letterings, of which you can only pick out the occasional phrase. "The jackal howls", "Great Prince Amunkhaten", "His great fury", and so on. Nothing that really means much to you. You already knew whose tomb this was, and the rest is cryptic semi-religious mutterings.

(Cont.)
>>
>>1919044
The group slowly picks its way down the stairs, which seem to be rapidly growing larger and larger. That's... not at all alarming. You know something about old Pharahen architecture, and they were very deliberate in their stonework. This has to serve some kind of purpose. Maybe some ritual religious thing? No, that's stupid, that's what people say instead of 'I have no clue'. You'd talked to enough people to know that. The stairs halted suddenly, and the corridor continued. The carvings ceased to be images and writing, instead adopting a whirling pattern, as though they were carved by someone entirely different. The ceiling suddenly seems much higher. Good news for Mamoun; he doesn't need to stoop anymore.

You notice something ahead. Light. Squinting, you see that it's coming from a lit torch. Instantly, you are on your guard. That means a couple of things, and none of them are good. "Light. That isn't good." Yusuf states the obvious from behind you. You hear him draw his swords, and follow suit. Now prepared, you continue on.

Something on the floor catches your eye. A tile that seems a bit too raised. "Stop," you say, and take a knee to examine it more closely, procuring a small probing tool and a small lever. You use the lever to lift the tile up a tiny bit more and peek underneath. Oh yeah, that's rigged. You set to work disarming it.

Roll 1D100. Bo3.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>1919131
CURSE BEGONE
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>1919131
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

Let's do this.
>>
>>1919141
>>1919142
Oh shit.

Literally 1 second apart.
>>
>>1919142
Anon, I am proud. Writing.
>>
>>1919131
You study the mechanics of the pressure tile, looking to gain some insight into what the trap's attack is. You were expecting something like an arrow or a crushing boulder from the ceiling or a pit. You weren't expecting a bomb to be at the centre of a pile of mechanisms. You lift the tile further to get a closer look at it. It seems to be some kind of red glass, with a liquid of some kind inside, and a tiny system at the top of unknown purpose. Fascinating. You're going to have to study this. You've never seen its like. But first, you must get at it.

You reach into another pouch, produce a variety of other tools, and set to work. The springs, coils, gears, prods, and all the rest all strike you as impossibly fragile, and occasionally rigged to break each other if removed. You sweat, unwilling to find out what happens if you accidentally break something still inside. With a few minutes' work, going by the light of your torch, which Yusuf is now holding, you take apart the delicate machinery, ably spotting and avoiding the little pitfalls and triggers that the designer of the trap worked in. Clearly, whoever made this was some kind of genius. But you are Mazir Shalasha, and you will not be defeated by any mere trap. You lay the pieces to the side, then retrieve your prize.

You hold the glass sphere up to the light. Looking more closely, you see it's meant to produce a spark as the glass is shattered. Interesting. So the liquid inside reacts in some way to a spark, perhaps? Certainly, you do not wish to find out what would happen if it were to shatter. Not first-hand. You empty your tool pouch of the rest of your tools, then wrap up the glass sphere in the softest material you can find, and put it gently inside the pouch. Then you pack your tools away into various other pockets and pouches. Less organised, perhaps, but worth it. Then you stand back up and hop over where the tile used to be. "Let's be off, then."

>Trait Gained: Nimble Fingers
>Item Gained: Pharahen Mystery Bomb

Yusuf hands you back your torch with a look of something between confusion and awe, and the group sets off again.

(Cont.)
>>
>>1919452
Minutes pass, and no words are exchanged. Then the path opens out into a huge room of some kind, all lit with torches held in brackets mounted on the walls. The stone around the brackets has cracks, and the dark metal of the brackets seem out of place in the overall aesthetic of the place. Someone, or something, put this here after the fact. And that's not a fact you're comfortable with. Someone's been here before you.

Scanning the rest of the room, it seems there is an altar of some kind in the middle of the room. It is a raised stone pillar with some kind of story carved into the base of it. On this side, you see what appears to be a man with a bird head who appears to be burning a house, and then him stabbing another man with a different bird's head of some kind, then some stylistic depiction of a hand. They all seem to be related in some way, but you can't put your finger on why or how. Just looking at it makes you feel uncomfortable. Cold.

Tearing your eyes from the carvings to the altar itself, you see that it appears to be made of a black glass, with engravings filled in with something red and metallic, except for the tip, which is styled as a falcon's head made of silver. That looks valuable. For a moment you think of chiseling it off, but something stops you. Desecrating this site is not a good idea. I don't want to do that.

...That wasn't you. You frown.

Looking at the ground to pull your vision from the disturbing altar, you notice that the tiles are shaped... oddly. As loath as you are to admit it, it looks like this room serves some kind of ritual or religious purpose. That is very clearly an altar to some god or another, and the tiles seem to be in some kind of pattern that probably meant something to the Pharahens. You put a hand to your chin, deep in thought.

A clacking of something solid on stone disrupts you from your thoughts. Everyone else freezes too. "What," Manyara asks, "was that?" Off to your side, you see Ibrahim pick his cat off his shoulder, whisper something to it, and set it on the ground. It scampers off down one of the three other doorways out of the room. There is silence, except for the sound repeating, and quickening. That rhythm sounds like footsteps. Lots of footsteps. But no footstep makes that kind of sound.

There is a shout, "Oh FUCK! Uh, meow!", from the hallway the cat went down. It scampers back and leaps straight onto Ibrahim's shoulder, whispering back into his ear. You're not sure if you're ever going to quite get used to the cat talking, nor if you'll get used to its strange accent. Ibrahim turns to the rest of you, alarmed. "The bones walk!" he shouts, dramatically. Upon seeing it did not receive the reception he'd hoped, he tries again. "Skeletons. Many of them, armed. They're coming this way."

(Cont.)
>>
>>1919454
Okay, the dead are walking. That's something you've seen once or twice before. This is something you can handle. You assess the other two corridors. One of them has light coming from it, and the other does not. The light seems to be where the dead are coming from. Maybe that way would avoid whatever or whoever is down here with you. But at the same time, these others are likely to be protecting something, no? Perhaps the light is a more rewarding path. And you do not mean that in a metaphorical way.

>Move up to fight the skeletons in the corridor.
>Stand your ground, fight them here.
>See if they can be reasoned with? Not all undead are mindless.
>Run down the lit corridor, this is a tomb raid not a battle.
>Run down the unlit corridor.
>>
>>1919467
>>Move up to fight the skeletons in the corridor.
>>
>>1919467
>Stand your ground, fight them here.
Hold the opening of the corridor ti funnel the skeletons
>>
>>1919498
Funnel the skeletons into a choke point.
>>
>>1919479
>>1919498
>>1919612
I'm just going to assume that's a vote for
>Stand your ground, fight them here.
Writing.
>>
>>1919643
Dropped the name, that was me. Not some ghost.
>>
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>>1919467
Yusuf is quick on the draw. "We should wait here for them."

You nod in agreement. "Mmm. Hold them at the corridor. I like that." You look around at the rest for their input. Shazi rolls her shoulders. "As long as I'm not in the front," she comments drily.

Mamoun grins and pats the head of his club. Yes, you should have expected that.

Manyara looks nervy at the prospect of not running, even though she's—rather poorly—trying to hide it. "Are we sure that's a good idea? Surely we should try and just go around them," she reasons.

Ibrahim smiles at his sister. "Don't worry, Manyara, I'm sure they know what they're doing. We'll be fine."

"Don't say you are skipping out on a good fight!" Mamoun booms cheerily.

Manyare just sighs in response. "Just don't let any of them near me. I can't fight with a sword," she says, almost resigned. You're sure she'll get used to it.

You, Mamoun, and Yusuf all rush up to the passage entrance, while Manyara, Ibrahim, and Shazi stand back. Shazi and Manyara each nock an arrow, while Ibrahim seems to be gathering some more of that green energy to him. Yusuf is standing in a ready stance, both his swords out, one smaller than the other. On your other side, Mamoun slings the club over his shoulder and stands casually. You, on the other hand,

>...reach into your bomb pouch and get ready to blow something up. You've always loved the art of bomb-making, maybe there's just something satisfying about things exploding.
>...opt for not risking a cave-in and draw your sword. You've always been a deft hand at swordplay, and this should be good practice for you.
>...reach into your bomb pouch and pick out a special little bomb you filled with acid. You've always loved experimenting with your bombs.
>>
>>1919810
>>...reach into your bomb pouch and pick out a special little bomb you filled with acid. You've always loved experimenting with your bombs.
>>
>>1919810
>>...reach into your bomb pouch and pick out a special little bomb you filled with acid. You've always loved experimenting with your bombs.

Special elemental bombs go!
>>
Elemental bombs. Why not.
>>
>>1919810
>...reach into your bomb pouch and pick out a special little bomb you filled with acid. You've always loved experimenting with your bombs.
>>
>>1919827
>>1919833
>>1919864
>>1919884
The Hive has spoken. Writing.
>>
>>1919900
Wait no. Duh. Roll! 1d100 as normal.
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

PLS RNGESUS. GIVE TO ME!!!
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>1919911
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>1919911
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>1919911
>>
>>1919913
>>1919916
>>1919924
Hot dice

>>1919926
Kind of.

Well, I think it's safe to say that this is going well. Writing.
>>
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>>1919810
You reach into your bomb pouch and pick out one of the more fun ones. You check it quickly. Green strip. Yes, this is it, the acid bomb. It'd been an interesting process, distilling an acid that wouldn't burn through the casing or the powder, but would burn through people. Or, in this case, skeletons. In the end, you'd solved the problem by separating the bomb into three sections. The inner core of powder, then the outer layer had a form of acid that you had, through extensive testing, rendered inert. Then in the top there was the catalyst, which would turn the acid active when it mixed in. To separate the fuse from the acid, you gave the fuse its own separate channel. That way, the acid wouldn't melt the fuse and thus prevent the explosion. You'd been toying with the idea of getting it to somehow just not melt ceramics, but this was the version you had working. It wasn't a perfect bomb, by any means, but you felt it had a little more of a varied punch than a regular bomb. And it relied less on shrapnel, which was really handy with skeletons, where shrapnel would fly straight through sometimes. That was something he'd learned the painful way, when he'd met this sort of defense before.

As the skeletons marched closer, you quickly lit the fuse with a flame on the tip of your finger. It was the only bit of magic you knew, and it was far too tiny to actually work as a weapon, but it really helped with lighting fuses and other things. A street magician in Durosuf taught it to you for a modest sum of gold. Then you waited a second as the fuse burned down to the red strip you'd marked. When it reached that red strip, it was time to release the catalyst. There.

You twist the tiny valve to let the catalyst through, estimate how long the fuse has left, and then roll it underhanded towards them. Five seconds, it was.

You count the seconds.

One. The skeletons shamble closer, and one takes an arrow through the skull, falling over backwards, while another has an arrow break through a rib but nothing else.

Two. Two of the skeletons in the back begin to have a green energy melt into them.

Three. Your bomb clatters against the foot of a skeleton in the middle of the pack. It ignores it.

Four. The two skeletons at the back slam into each other impossibly quickly, turning bone to dust. Another skeleton falls with an arrow in the skull.

Five. You brace... and nothing happens. Hu-

BOOM!

(Cont.)
>>
>>1920093
The bomb worked exactly as you'd hoped, issues with the fuse aside. The skeletons nearest had no chance, of course. The sheer concussion of the bomb shattered their bones. Those further out that would only have been staggered, or perhaps torn up a bit by some lucky shards of ceramic, are instead showered with acid. You see their bones melting already, and can't imagine they'll be 'alive' much longer. Despite all your bomb's good work, there's still a good number that are still up. You count eight.

Two arrows strike their marks.

You mean that you counted six, of course.

You don't have time to ready another bomb, so instead you draw your sword, a thick, curved affair, and settle into a stance. You're no expert, but you're good enough to be effective. What sort of adventurer would you be if you weren't also a swordsman?

Roll 1d100, lads.
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

MORE ROLLING AND CRITCALS (FAILS) COMING!!!
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>1920105
>>
>>1920105
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>1920105
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>1920105
>>
>>1920146
is this a joke?
>>
>>1920146
dice are so generous these days
>>
>>1920146
I...

Writing.
>>
>>1920151
>>1920146

Cause its a good one
>>
>>1920146
WOOT WOOT WOOT WOOT
>>
>>1920155
I've not seen a hot start like this since BLadebound Retainer.
>>
>>1920105
The first skeleton approaches you with a lumbering stroke, one which you duck neatly under with a spin, and counter with an upwards hack at the shoulder, cleaving most of the way through the bone. Undaunted, the skeleton tries to catch you in the face with the haft but you lean back, mostly by instinct, and the metal cap on the butt end sails past right in front of your nose.

No, that's right, undead don't feel pain. You were fighting like you were fighting a living opponent, where that hack would've ruined that arm. The undead weren't like that. At least, skeletons weren't. No muscles to damage. You try a different tack.

You bring your scimitar down in a heavy blow and crush into the skull, cutting deep with sheer weight and force. Your sword lodges itself into the bone, and once more the skeleton stays standing. Hmph, so it's not a 'go for the head' matter. Or maybe it is, and you simply didn't do enough damage. You're not sure, you didn't actually see any of the fighting when you'd met with animated bones last time. If you don't just go for the head, then why were arrows to the skull working? Were they working? What did it take?

Another swing comes in, as the skeleton appears mostly unfazed by having a big sword stuck in its head, except maybe a few balance issues. You let go of your sword and jump back out of the way. The skeleton goes wildly off-balance, staggering with the sword in its head, so you try another method.

Then the skeleton spasms, and spasms again. You stand back from it, still not quite willing to risk going for your weapon. It tries to attack, but suddenly its legs buckle, and the swing comes down far to the side of you anyway. The arm you hit earlier begins crumbling. Interesting.

You glance over at one of the skeletons with an arrow in their skull. It spasms, and a couple of ribs simply fall off, one even shatters. You think you see what is happening. Ah, yes, you do! You do see what's happening! Their skull appears to be the reservoir of magical energy that keeps them active, and damage to it means that the skeleton begins to... decay, since the focus for the energy keeping it awakened is damaged, meaning that it can't work properly, and in fact leaks out! Fascinating!

You reach for your sword, grinning at your discovery. The skeleton feebly lifts an arm to stop you, and you kick it away with a boot, actually sending the arm flying off.

(Cont.)
>>
>>1920364
You put the boot on its skull as leverage, then yank. Nope. You pull again, more violently, and the sword gives up its bite on the bone. Must've hit it hard. But not hard enough to knock it over, which is precisely what the arrows were doing. Perhaps they hit more forcefully? But his skeleton decayed quicker. He'd done more damage, but the force of the arrow was more focused and directly backwards, as well as unexpected. Yes, that made sense.

You don't have time to check how Mamoun and Yusuf are doing—though you suspect they're fine—as another skeleton is closing in. You let it swing and dance out of the way. Okay, now you have time. You glance over. Manoun appears to have already shattered the bones of two skeletons with his large maul, while, Yusuf is dancing around the last skeleton. A skeleton lies at his feet, an arrow through its skull, spasming and crumbling. Manoun swings his great club, and the skeleton dodges it more out of chance than ability, too busy trying to keep up with Yusuf's blazing footwork.

Your idea gives you another idea. So if the head was the focus, what if you hacked it off? Would the skeleton instantly fall back to a pile of bones, bereft of the energies animating it? A hypothesis that simply must be tested!

You sway to the side as the maul comes down, and then launch a vicious assault on the skeleton's neck. You hack it once, and cleave most of the way through. It tries to swing its maul back around, but it's already getting sluggish. Interesting, it seems wounding the neck also disrupts the energy flow. So your guess would appear correct. But it would be unbecoming to assume. You must know.

You circle around behind it, and hack again, this time cutting all the way through. The skull spins off, and the headless skeleton topples into a wall, entirely coming apart. Excellent! You were right!

>Knowledge Gained: Undead Weaknesses in Combat

You glance over to Manoun and Yusuf to see if they need any help, only to see the familiar green light flowing into them and popping their skulls off.

The adrenaline rush halts, and everyone crashes, in varying amounts. You lean against a wall, chuckling. Yusuf seems totally unbothered. Was he even feeling endangered? Manoun bends over and puts his hands on his knees. You glance over to see Ibrahim and Manyara leaning against each other, Manyara, Ibrahim, and Shazi seem fairly unbothered, but they weren't expending quite as much effort. Ibrahim gives a familial hug to Manyara. He seemed oddly tense.

(Cont. I'm taking a quick break, probably only about twenty minutes. Just a thing or two I need to do. Then we'll get back underway.)
>>
>>1920472
Okay I'm taking a bit longer. I just discovered some lasagna in the fridge so I'm reheating it. Sorry.

How are you anons finding the quest? Any criticisms? Any praise to validate me?
>>
>>1920627
fix the dice
>>
>>1920644
Do you mean the dice system, or do you mean the actual dice rolls? It's not the best system, but I'm trying to figure something out. Just didn't want to delay myself running anymore. Thoughts on a replacement dice system?

>>1920472
You all regather your wits and group up in the middle of the open room, all of you trying to not look at the altar, except Shazi, who doesn't seem to care.

"I take it everyone's unhurt?" is the first question you ask, and everyone responds in the affirmative.

"Good. Okay, so for if we come across more of them, the head is their weakspot," you say, gesturing with both hands to indicate your own head. "My guess is that that's the focus point for the magic keeping them together." You are about to continue, when Ibrahim interrupts.

"Mhm. The skull is the traditional place for sorcerers to use when reanimating the dead. Destroying or even damaging it weakens the focus, which in turn weakens the rest of the body, as well as the magic's control over it. Severing it is most effective," he says rapidly. You hesitate.

"Err, right," you say.

"And you... didn't think to mention this before?" Shazi asks sarcastically.

Ibrahim shrugs, unconcerned. "I hadn't been able to properly analyse the workings of them yet. I couldn't be sure," he explains.

"Okay. Ibrahim, can you tell us where whatever or whoever was controlling those corpses came from? Or if they were controlled?"

Ibrahim shakes his head. "Can't. At most I can say, whatever's controlling them is," he begins, then holds out his arms in a wide arc in the direction that the corpses had come from, "that way."

"Alright. I suppose that'll have to do. We're heading after whatever that is. There's probably something valuable being protected. If I were a gambling man, and I am, I'd gamble that's where the orb is." Yes, the orb. Technically it was called the Eye of Al-Jelani, buried with Great Prince Amunkhaten in eons past, but you were never one for titles. It's part of why you left. Great religious artefact, lots of prestige and money for finding and returning it, so on and so on.

That's what you'd been promised, anyway. In actuality, the worshipers of Al-Jelani were a dying breed, and tended to overestimate their importance. Even still, there were plenty of traditionalists scattered around, and the reward the temple itself was offering was substantial. So, here you were.

Yusuf pipes up, "And if we're going to get attacked again, I'd like the peace of mind to know we're doing something about it, anyway."

With nobody bringing anything else up, you break from the group. "Exactly so. If everybody's done, let's stop wasting time and start using it."

"I like this plan, it's like me. Reliable," Mamoun says. Nobody quite knows how to respond, so the comment hangs as you all march on, steeling yourself for the next fight. Somehow, you don't think you'll get off quite as easily next time.
>>
>>1920644
>>1920644
Do you mean the dice system, or do you mean the actual dice rolls? It's not the best system, I'm aware, but I'm working on figuring something out. Just didn't want to delay myself running anymore.

>>1920472 (You)
You all regather your wits and group up in the middle of the open room, all of you trying to not look at the altar, except Shazi, who doesn't seem to care.

"I take it everyone's unhurt?" is the first question you ask, and everyone responds in the affirmative.

"Good. Okay, so for if we come across more of them, the head is their weakspot," you say, gesturing with both hands to indicate your own head. "My guess is that that's the focus point for the magic keeping them together." You are about to continue, when Ibrahim interrupts.

"Mhm. The skull is the traditional place for sorcerers to use when reanimating the dead. Destroying or even damaging it weakens the focus, which in turn weakens the rest of the body, as well as the magic's control over it. Severing it is most effective," he says rapidly. You hesitate.

"Err, right," you say.

"And you... didn't think to mention this before?" Shazi asks sarcastically.

Ibrahim shrugs, unconcerned. "I hadn't been able to properly analyse the workings of them yet. I couldn't be sure," he explains.

"Okay. Ibrahim, can you tell us where whatever or whoever was controlling those corpses came from? Or if they were controlled?"

Ibrahim shakes his head. "Can't. At most I can say, whatever's controlling them is," he begins, then holds out his arms in a wide arc in the direction that the corpses had come from, "that way."

"Alright. I suppose that'll have to do. We're heading after whatever that is. There's probably something valuable being protected. If I were a gambling man, and I am, I'd gamble that's where the orb is." Yes, the orb. Technically it was called the Eye of Al-Jelani, buried with Great Prince Amunkhaten in eons past, but you were never one for titles. It's part of why you left. Great religious artefact, lots of prestige and money for finding and returning it, so on and so on.

That's what you'd been promised, anyway. In actuality, the worshipers of Al-Jelani were a dying breed, and tended to overestimate their importance. Even still, there were plenty of traditionalists scattered around, and the reward the temple itself was offering was substantial. So, here you were.

Yusuf pipes up, "And if we're going to get attacked again, I'd like the peace of mind to know we're doing something about it, anyway."

With nobody bringing anything else up, you break from the group. "Exactly so. If everybody's done, let's stop wasting time and start using it."

"I like this plan, it's like me. Reliable," Mamoun says. Nobody quite knows how to respond, so the comment hangs as you all march on, steeling yourself for the next fight. Somehow, you don't think you'll get off quite as easily next time.
>>
>>1920945
And that's the thread for today/tonight. I'll be starting up again tomorrow at about the same time, assuming nothing comes up. I hope you all enjoyed that. Now excuse me, anons, I have to go bake my shoes.
>>
>>1920954

I meant the dice rolls, just a joke mang. Thanks for the thread.
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>1920979
Oh, right. Yeah, thread had some nutso dice. It was odd. I mean, I won't say no to my quest having blessed dice, but it was still odd. Thanks for participating in the thread, anon.

That extends to all the rest of you anons. Thank you for participating in my quest, or even reading it. It's encouraging to get a good anon turnout.

I wonder if the dice are still hot.
>>
>>1921004
This is fucking hilarious XD
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>1920954
>Bake my shoes
What did he mean by this?

Also, the dice better not be hot.
>>
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>>1920945
The passageway continues on, and you pass through a number of wider chambers, all with one door leading onwards. Each one contains an altar, each seemingly depicting various gods right in the centre of it, and each one with lit torches in hammered-in brackets lighting it. The torches were more unsettling than the altars. Unless the Pharahens had managed to figure out ever-burning torches (likely) and only lit some of them (unlikely), then it meant one thing.

Someone else was here.

"I had no idea these people were so religious," Ibrahim's cat comments after you pass through the fourth altar room, this latest one appearing to be some kind of serpent goddess. Heretet, you think. Your knowledge of old Pharahen gods was quite rusty.

You'd told yourself you weren't going to look at the altars as you passed, but it was hard not to. You had to give the Pharahens that, they knew how to design a room.

"Oh yes, extremely," you say. "They had a god or goddess for pretty much everything."

"Do they have a god for that feeling where you really hope that a sandstorm blows in, but you're out in the open and wouldn't be able to get to shelter in time if one did?" Yusuf asks, sarcastically. You think that was sarcastic, at least. It's hard to tell sometimes, with Yusuf.

You shrug in response. "You'd have to ask one of them. Or one of the old priests of Al-Jelani, once we get back." Yusuf hums in acknowledgement.

The passage opens into another room, but this one is different. First of all, it's absolutely huge. Secondly, the floor is practically covered in loose gold. It's like it's spilling out of the statues. The elephant statues. Thirdly, there are no torches in brackets, and it's because they're not needed. Coming from above you is what appears to be a great stream of sunlight, which can't be right, since you're underground and under a desert. Regardless of your skepticism, however, there is indeed an opening in the wall above you, and sunlight is streaming in. Or if it's not sunlight, it's extremely similar to it.

There's also an altar of some kind in this room, but it's much larger than all the others, and depicts an elephant-headed god with only one eye. Ah, you know this one.

"So I take it that this one is one of the chief gods of the Pharahen?" Ibrahim asks, to which you nod.

"This is Seratenbedjet, the Pharahen God of, well, a variety of things. He's best-known for being the only god whose worship survived the invasion. We'd know him as Al-Jelani. Makes sense that he features prominently in the tomb of the Great Prince who ordered the Eye of Seratenbedjet, or as we know it, the Eye of Al-Jelani," you say.

"We just pop open his tomb, take the Eye, and leave, right?" Ibrahim again.

Before you get a chance, Manyara responds. "And just leave all this gold?" she asks, indignantly, already leaping ahead to start scooping up handfuls of coins.

Manoun raises an eyebrow. "This is the dead's gold." Manyara just shrugs. "Not anymore."
>>
>>1923640
>"Yusuf, if I ever don't take gold that belongs to someone dead and is just lying around, I want you to drown me, because you've been fooled, and I've been replaced by an imposter."
>"Take some if you want. I'll pass." At least if there's some weird curse, it won't hit you. There's been odder things that've happened to you than cursed gold.
>"No, we're leaving it." You've got a bad feeling about this place. You can't get that other voice in your mind that told you to leave the silver head attached out of your head.
>"This isn't ours. Give me some credit, I try to have some standards.

I'll be honest, anons, I'm not feeling too great. There may not be many updates today.
>>
>>1923653
>"Take some if you want. I'll pass." At least if there's some weird curse, it won't hit you. There's been odder things that've happened to you than cursed gold.
>No Use weighing our packs down when I get the feeling we'll need to make a quick exits
>>
>>1923653
>>"Take some if you want. I'll pass." At least if there's some weird curse, it won't hit you. There's been odder things that've happened to you than cursed gold.
>>
>>1923653
>>"Take some if you want. I'll pass." At least if there's some weird curse, it won't hit you. There's been odder things that've happened to you than cursed gold.
>No Use weighing our packs down when I get the feeling we'll need to make a quick exits
>>
>>1923672

"It better to be safe than cursed. Or weighed down when making an exit."
>>
>>1923672
>>1923724
>>1923729
>"Take some if you want. I'll pass." At least if there's some weird curse, it won't hit you. There's been odder things that've happened to you than cursed gold.
>No Use weighing our packs down when I get the feeling we'll need to make a quick exits
Writing.

>>1923770
Aren't you dead?
>>
>>1923778
Tag didn't empty when I cleared it
>>
I think I need to lie down. I feel fucking awful. Post is delayed until further notice. Sorry, anons.
>>
>>1918772
Read the first few sentences, thought "This guy's a good writer"
didn't read any further yet but I'm about to.
>>
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I return!

>>1923640
"Take some if you want. I'd rather keep a light pack." You glance nervously at the supports, suddenly aware of how much weight is on them. "I get the feeling we're going to be running out of here.

"Don't be too optimistic," Manyara tells you as she continues digging into the pile. Her brother shrugs and joins her. "Might as well," he says, sounding more than a little amused.

The rest of you move on to the sarcophagus, picking your way through the gold pile. The tomb is deceptively long, and as you approach, the sarcophagus suddenly starts looking way too big for a human. More like two or three. Maybe it was just tradition? The Prince already got a massive tomb underground, why not give him a big sarcophagus too?

"Manoun," you say as you all ascend the stairs, "you reckon you can shift that lid?"

He nods. "Of course!" he booms happily, before putting one huge fist in another, cracking its knuckles, then repeating it with the other hand.

He traces the crack between the lid and the base with a finger, digs his fingers into that gap as much as he can, and heaves. The lid only shifts up a tiny bit at first, then you hear him grunt, and the lid flips all the way back, revealing the contents.

A corpse, mummified and wrapped in bandages, with a golden headpiece and other various accessories, is inside. Its hands are cupped above its chest, as though it were holding some invisible ball. Wary, you swipe a hand through where you estimate the ball would be and find nothing there. So there isn't actually an invisible ball.

You can take a guess as to what happened. This is Great Prince Amunkhaten, and he was holding the orb. But someone took it. Probably the same someone who put the torches in, and maybe the same someone who controls the dead. You sigh. Why could nothing be easy?

"Just once, I'd like a treasure to be exactly where I think it is, nobody else is coming after it, there's no curses, and I'm not getting accused of kidnapping some Vizier's daughter," you vent, frustrated. That actually happened one time, though. Poor girl got a bit too taken by the novelty of a life of adventure, decided she'd tag along with you whether you liked it or not. You like to imagine she had a lot of explaining to do when you returned her.

You open your mouth to start working on a new plan when you notice a bandaged hand gripping the edge of the sarcophagus. "Uh oh," Yusuf says. You have to agree.

A guttural, unnatural growl comes from within the sarcophagus. "Where," a raspy, inhuman voice begins, "is the Eye of Seratenbedjet?" The mummy sits up and turns its head, with audible cracking, to look at you.

You put on an innocent smile and shrug helplessly. "It was gone when we got here?" you offer.

The mummy apparently ignores this. "Thieves! Give me back the Eye!" it bellows at you, and a green energy, somewhat more sickly-looking than Ibrahim's, gathers. It roars incoherently, and you all tumble away from him.

(Cont.)
>>
>>1926591
You scramble to your feet and hear Manyara shout in alarm from behind. Turning, you see a great skeleton clad in golden armour and wielding a huge blade, towering over Manyara, who fires an arrow that simply breaks on the armour. It advances on her, and she backs away fearfully. Ibrahim lies seemingly unconscious behind it.

You glance quickly at Amunkhaten. He is floating in the air, and his bandages are flying off him rapidly, coiling around Manoun. Manoun is struggling mightily, but he cannot break free. A small group of skeletons patters out, clad in similar gear to the ones you had encountered earlier. More follow them. Shazi turns to face them, already loosing a hail of arrows. For every skeleton she fells, another appears. Yusuf is hurling himself suicidally at Amunkhaten. You grit your teeth.

>You can't leave Manyara alone against that monstrosity! Help her!
>Try to cut Manoun out.
>Stem the tide along with Shazi.
>Attack Great Prince Amunkhaten with Yusuf.
>These odds are hopeless. Surrender and try to talk your way out, it's your only chance.
>>
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>>1926626
Pretend this image was attached.
>>
>>1926626
>These odds are hopeless. Surrender and try to talk your way out, it's your only chance.
>>
>>1926626
>>These odds are hopeless. Surrender and try to talk your way out, it's your only chance.
>>
>>1926640
Supporting.

Praise be our undead overlords.
>>
>>1926626
>Attack Great Prince Amunkhaten with Yusuf.
I wonder if we have a incendiary on us.
>>
>>1926640
>>1926645
>>1926650
>These odds are hopeless. Surrender and try to talk your way out, it's your only chance.

Okay then. Writing.

>>1926653
I mean, who knows what that bomb you picked up is?
>>
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>>1926626
You pull out your sword, then throw it aside, falling onto your knees and holding your arms out. "Everyone, stop fighting!" You have an idea. You just have to hope Amunkhaten doesn't cotton on to what Manyara and Ibrahim were doing. Now, someone with a tomb like this, you reckon a bit of flattery won't go amiss.

"O Great Prince Amunkhaten, Sun Conqueror, Ruler of the Sands, Blessed-By-Seratenbedjet! Hear your humble servant!" You made up all of those, but you've never heard of that stopping anyone from appreciating having a bunch of fancy titles. Maybe he'd just think they were attributed to him after his death.

"You dare!?! You dare pass yourself as my servant after STEALING from me!?" he begins, outraged. The green energy around him intensifies. Agh, you should've expected that. You need to head him off before he has time to work himself into a frenzy. You do note, however, that everyone has stopped, both your own companions and the undead servants of Amunkhaten. You have at least a foot in the door.

"No, master!" You catch Manoun giving you an odd look at your turnabout, but you don't have the privacy to fill him in, nor the time. "We come to hunt down those who would steal from the very hand of the most glorious Great Prince! We did not manage to reach your great tomb in time to stop them, we found the hidden door burst asunder, and tomb guards laid to waste," you explain quickly, your mind racing.

Amunkhaten pauses. "Then why, oh servant, did I awaken with you over me? If another claimed the Eye as you claimed, I would have awoken to their face, not yours."

You frown. Time to mix in a little honesty. It'd be a little suspicious to have an answer to this. "I do not know, my Prince."

Amunkhaten seems to accept this. He lowers himself back to the ground gently, and unwraps Manoun from his bandages, instead making them fold neatly back into the sarcophagus. "Very well."

And now for the setup."I bring good news, however. The interlopers are still here, in this very tomb." You point in vaguely the direction you remember Ibrahim indicating, which ends up being behind the statue of Al-Jelan- err, you mean, the statue of Seratenbedjet. "Deeper into your tomb."

Amunkhaten's grey, mummified skin twists up into a triumphant grin. "Excellent work, my servants. Doubtless, they think themselves safe." He floats himself up off the ground again. "Come, let us show them their error," he says to his undead servants. "Stay here, ensure that nothing slips past you," he tells you.

"Yes, my Prince," you say. Amunkhaten turns and flies away behind the statue, and the great tomb guardian leaps up quickly to follow after him. The skeletons, of which you can now see some were archers, follow behind, marching in utter unity.

Once they all are out of earshot, Manoun turns to you. "I should not have doubted you, I am sorry I did."

>"It's okay, big guy. You'll get used to it."
>"Oh, don't worry. I doubted me, too."
>"No, you shouldn't have."
>>
>>1926923
>"It's okay, big guy. You'll get used to it."
>>
>>1926923
>"Oh, don't worry. I doubted me, too."
Flying by the seat of his pants seems like something this guy does.
>>
>>1926923
>"Oh, don't worry. I doubted me, too."
>>
>>1926923
>>"Oh, don't worry. I doubted me, too."
>>
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>>1926932
>>1926938
>>1926952
>"Oh, don't worry. I doubted me, too."
Writing
>>
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>>1926923
"Oh, don't worry. I doubted me, too," you tell him, grinning widely, mostly in relief, but partly to mess with Mamoun.

He looks at you uncertainly. "You... you're kidding, right? Tell me you had a plan if that went wrong."

"Nope," you say, brightly. You see Yusuf hide a smirk with his hand.

"Okay, then tell me you at least knew what you were doing." He looks almost pleading at this point.

"I... kind of knew what I was doing? I had a guess about what I was doing."

Manyara storms up the stairs. "You mean you risked all our lives on a gamble, and you didn't even know what you were doing?" she demands.

"Well, we would've died if I hadn't tried. So yeah, pretty much."

"Couldn't you have at least put a bit more thought into it before just risking it all?"

"I could've. But then I would've hesitated. And that wouldn't have played well with the 'overawed servant' role."

"I... okay, you're right. I misspoke. I'm still not quite forgiving you for that though," she concedes.

You sigh dramatically. "What's a dashing adventurer gotta do to get some respect around here?" you joke. Manyara pointedly ignores that.

Yusuf swaggers up to you. "Well, I certainly think that Mirza handled that well." He throws an arm around your shoulders. "Well done."

"Thank you, Yusuf," you say appreciatively, shooting Manyara an exaggerated meaningful look.

"So what now?" Shazi asks quietly.

>Follow Amunkhaten to the Eye. Wait to see what happens, take any opportunities you see.
>Leave. You've had enough of this place. No amount of wealth and fame is worth dying for.
>Leave, but wait outside the entrance for anyone coming out, and if nobody comes out then come back later.
>>
>>1927050
>>Leave, but wait outside the entrance for anyone coming out, and if nobody comes out then come back later.
>>
>>1927050
>Follow Amunkhaten to the Eye. Wait to see what happens, take any opportunities you see.
>We're getting payback from those assholes that almost got us killed
>>
>>1927050
>Follow Amunkhaten to the Eye. Wait to see what happens, take any opportunities you see.
>>
>>1927050
>Follow Amunkhaten to the Eye. Wait to see what happens, take any opportunities you see.
We can't just NOT try to get the gem.
>>
>>1927073
>>1927076
>>1927083
>Follow Amunkhaten to the Eye. Wait to see what happens, take any opportunities you see.
Writing.
>>
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>>1927050
"Now? Now we're following him. Odds are, he'll find whoever has the Eye, then they'll fight," you say.

"Ah, and then we take the Eye from whoever wins?" Ibrahim asks, having apparently woken up. Oh, right, he was unconscious. That's probably what took Manyara so long to confront you over your admittedly dangerous gamble. She was checking on her brother. That makes sense.

"Precisely. What happened to you? I didn't see."

"I don't know," he admits. "I just got hit from behind. It felt like something landed on me. And then I woke up, and everyone was kneeling to that big corpse. I take it that was Amunkhaten?"

"Yeah, it was," you say.

"It was that great jackal warrior, I think. I'm just glad it didn't try to finish you off," Manyara says, relief evident in her voice.

"So am I," Ibrahim notes wryly.

"Me too," says a strange voice you swear you've heard before. "It would've been awfully inconvenient for me if you were to have perished." Oh yes, the cat.

The black cat leaps up from behind Ibrahim onto his shoulder, and Ibrahim grins. "Ah, so you don't care about me. I'm glad we've sorted that," Ibrahim teases, scratching the cat on the head.

The cat purrs. "Of course I cared about you. Who else would put up with me?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd find someone else to leech off."

"Oh, I leech off you? Funny."

"If you two are done," you interrupt, "I'd like to get moving."

"Rude," the cat comments.

(Cont.)
>>
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>>1927234
You quickly catch up to Amunkhaten and his party, the cat trailing closest behind them to keep tabs. You do a quick check while you walk to make sure that the glass bomb you packed away earlier wasn't damaged. It wasn't. Somehow, you get the feeling that you'd find out pretty quickly if it was damaged. And pretty painfully. You make a mental note to put it down somewhere before you fight, just in case.

The cat arrives back suddenly. "There's a secret passage. I've always wanted to say that," it says.

"Where?" you ask quickly.

"Up ahead. I saw them go in. I'll show you." And with that the cat darts off again, forcing you all to hurry to follow it.

"He pressed this tile, and the wall opened up. Like this." The cat leaps off the ground and lands on one of the tiles, then kicks off onto Ibrahim's shoulder again. Nothing happens. "Ibrahiiiim," it whines.

"I've got it, I've got it." He looks back to you. "Ready?" he asks. You nod, and he presses the tile.

Immediately, the wall starts producing a grinding noise, and slowly pulls back, then slides aside to reveal an open cavern, lit by massive stone fireplace-looking objects. There's also another stream of what looks like sunlight. The random beams of sunlight when you're underground is starting to get annoying. You knew the Pharahens had some weird trickery in their tombs, but nothing like underground sunlight. And you'd never heard of Pharahens incorporating natural caverns into anything. They liked their buildings nice and ordered. You have no doubt a Pharahen master architect would've had a fit at such a jagged, messy opening being part of one of their masterpieces.

There seems to be a clear path for you to follow, though, so follow it you do. More of the fireplaces light the way, as do occasional bits of sunlight. You can hear the marching of skeletons ahead. You turn around and silently put a finger to your lips, signalling for silence. You all creep closer. Mamoun tries to creep, but he's not very good at it. You can't fault the effort, though.

You look over the side of the path you're following, then immediately wish you hadn't. Somehow not being able to see the bottom makes it way worse. You resolve to walk on the wall-side of the 'road'.

Rounding a bend, you hear shouting. A low wall of rough-cut stone is now on the outside edge of the path. Convenient, right as you're about to need to hide. You gesture to everyone to get down behind it as you round the rest of the curve.

"That orb does not belong to you!" Amunkhaten asserts angrily.

"And yet I am holding it," a low voice states calmly.

"Possession is not ownership, snake! Return the orb and I shall kill you quickly!"

"No."

You peek over the wall, eager to discover the identity of the one who'd stolen the Eye before you.

(Cont.)
>>
>>1927329
I bet he fucks that cat.
>>
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>>1927329
There is a bridge, about three or four people wide, between your ledge and the platform on which the stranger stands. He is deathly pale, and has a black set of robes with some surprisingly intricate and expensive-looking trimming. In one hand he has a staff with a red crystal ball suspended in the curve at the top of the staff, about as tall as he is. In his other hand, he cradles a magnificent red gem, larger than any you've ever seen, not even in the Crystal Palace of the Malik Almaluk. It glows with a strange fire, and looks oddly like it's watching you. You can see why it would be taken as a divine artefact.

Surrounding him are a multitude of warriors in ragged clothes with strangely matted hair and cracked, dead, grey skin. They hold long, straight swords in utterly identical poses. You get the oddest feeling that they're dead, too. Were you the only living things in this tomb?

On the bridge stands Amunkhaten, his jackal warrior at his side, and many skeleton warriors all poised to attack. While you can't see his face, by how intense Amunkhaten's glow is, you reckon he's feeling pretty enraged.

"Worm!" Amunkhaten gestures forwards, and his skeletons march forward, parting around him. Some of them, the ones with bows, stayed back and loosed a volley. The sorcerer gestured with his staff, and the arrows stopped dead in the air, blocked by a red screen of light. The screen vanishes, and the arrows all drop straight to the ground. You share a look with Yusuf. This... is going to be interesting.

The rest of the group is now peering over, all watching the proceedings with interest.

The skeletons suddenly start charging, and the undead warriors form up into a line on the other side of the bridge. With deadly bladework, they keep the skeletons at bay. The sorcerer himself seems content to watch and merely block the occasional volley of arrows.

Eventually one of the undead warriors holding the line falls to multiple blows, and the line is quickly rushed through. The conflict dissolves into a series of smaller fights. The sorcerer blasts anything that comes close with a mass of red energy, barely looking like he's paying attention. He returns fire on the archers, but Amunkhaten blocks most of his attacks.

The jackal warrior leaps into the fray with a single bound and immediately cuts an undead warrior clean in half with one swing, before beating another's sword out of its hand and hacking its head off.

>Wait and see what happens.
>Join in, attack Amunkhaten's side
>Join in, attack the sorcerer's side
>Join in, attack everyone
>>Any of the join in options, but try to do it without being seen
>>
>>1927418
I wonder how hard it would be to sneak that mystery bomb close to the sorcerer. Maybe one of the companions is sneaky enough for it?
>>
>>1927418
>Join in, attack the sorcerer's side
>>
>>1927418
Ignore the battle, search for loot
>>
>>1927418
I'm going to take a quick break to eat and shower and stuff. Won't be gone too long.

>>1927402
No. The cat's a dude, for one. And also no. Just no.
>>
>>1927452
Ain't nothing to be ashamed of. A man gets lonely on the trail.
>>
>>1927435
>>1927437
>Join in the attack against the Sorcerer

Are you sure you want to use the Pharahen Mystery Bomb for this, or do you want to save it for study? This is fairly important, although not really plot-changing.

>Use the bomb
>Study the bomb
>>
>>1927585
>Study the bomb
Bomb bomb. Rock the nation.
>>
>>1927585
Given the lack of votes and the semi-importance of this vote, I'm going to stop the thread here and leave the vote on until tomorrow when I come back.

Anyone got any questions to ask me?
>>
>>1927585
>>Study the bomb
>>
>>1927585
Study
>>
>>1927585
>Study the bomb
fine
>>
I'm sorry anons, but I think this thread will have to end. I'm going to be in hospital for the next couple of days, and I've been busy most of today preparing for that, so I won't really have time to run until it's already autosaging. I'll archive it at some point, and then start a new thread.

Thank you all for participating, anons. You've been good to me.
>>
>>1930207
No worries. Hope your recovery is quick!




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