"Fat lot of good this journey's brought us" The words were of Daseb Escubirod, the human archeologist, as she and Thomod lazed about behind the walls of Murderedflags. The two had met sometime during the strongman's trek westward from Throneshields, says she was heading that direction for a survey of the place. Might as well travel together, Thomod already had a run-in with boogeymen and certainly wasn't looking to reprise that encounter.
She breaks the silence again,
"This place seems mostly empty, naught but one dwarven soul left on its grounds, and he is truly mad." She spoke of course of Rovod Bidnozimush, the deranged king of Murderedflags. the king of what? A pile of soil surrounded by a shoddy wall.
The dwarf did not wish to speak with them, instead muttering unknown words in foreign tongues. Thomod begged the king to join with him, surely he could not survive out here for long. But to no avail were his efforts. And without another thought the pair left for the museum at Throneshields.
(Somewhat large image.)
"You say a animate wagon spoke to you? Told you to come all the way out here? Just what I need, to be following around another madman." Daseb glared at her partner, as it were, whimsically.
Replying stalwart, Thomod said,
"I know exactly what happened, it speaks with an archaic rickety voice. De wagon without a name seems to hold such wisdom."
"For all its wisdom it sure couldn't picked a worse spot, I mean why would it send you to that dump anyway?" the archaeologist responded sarcastically.
With a smirk Thomod ended the conversation with,
"Perhaps it had sent me to meet with you."ONE TRAVEL LATER!"By Palath its brilliant!" Daseb said as she and Thomod stood in awe between four great pyramidian structures.
"De journey will not be a waste after all" the strongman remarked.
Thomod guided the archaeologist who had become so stimulated, this was likely the discovery of her lifetime, whatever it was. Finally they reached a door into one of the pyramids, the muscled man slowly creaked it open, leading into a dim room with an intricately carved slab, a warning to those who would dare enter. Superstitious nonsense? Could be, although, Thomod had been following the commands of a talking wagon.
They would be on their guard, not entirely sure of what could be found here, though the strongman could not leave Daseb to do this alone, she needed muscle when the goings got tough, and he had plenty.
The pair wandered the dim torch lit halls, smoothed rock engraved with all manner of picture, though nothing they could easily make out, climbing up a staircase finally the dense acrid air had hit them, this was no dwarven mine, it was a tomb!
Corpses line every last bit of the floors, gladly they had all rotted away long ago. Endless rows of skeletons just laid out in every room, on every surface. What there could possibly be a warning for Thomod did not know, but the very thought frightened him. As the pair sift their way through extended rooms and tight passages, they begin to notice numerous piles of arms and armour strewn about, in chests, sacks, and coffers. These containers were guarded by even more numerable traps.
This only begged the question; why had, in death, these beings needed so many weapons of war? The thought chilled them to the bone, they pressed ever onward. Closer and closer to the heart of the tomb, now began endless rows of great statues, hewn from rock and metal. Simple things like humans and animals at first, however the closer they drew to the antechamber the more frightening things had become. Depictions of demons and devils, beasts forgotten by time, things that could not be uttered in the most secret of places. Why so long ago had all this been created? Under whose guidance? Questions the may never know, not that they had a particular desire to truly find out.
At last, Thomod pries open a large sealed door at the end of just another hall. A wave of horrid feeling passes through the two as they enter. An ornate sarcophagus lies in the center of the chamber, mounds of bone and dust scattered all about, something they had began to ignore.
The most terrifying of all? The coffin's lid had been slid away long ago. The container - empty. Graverobbers? Perhaps, although why they had not partaken in the piles of treasure all throughout the tomb was another story. No, this was something more sinister, Thomod could feel it in his bones. In the chamber lie a slab, commemorating whoever's tomb this had been.
This was more than ancient, almost before the beginning of recorded history. Were they the first people to walk these halls in nearly a thousand years? After recording whatever it is that she needed to record Daseb had gestured, three tombs left.
And all three same as the first, only with different layouts and different rulers, yet one thing remained static, empty coffins.
With Daseb's archaeological lust sated, the pair fled as fast as they could, truly some evil had arisen from this site. Where it was now? No one could say. Returning to Throneshields, they met again with the eldritch wagon, where they would receive grim news.
A great beast of flame and death seeks the museum for its new nest, and its hoard. It must be stopped.
Will we ever find the corpse of rulers long ago? Will this dragon obliterate our hero? Find out next time on the daring adventures of Thomod Sinaabo!
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Topic: The Museum II; adventure succession world (game is finished) (Read 116531 times)