A Gathering of Lions

The Half-Dead City

Session 1 Part 1

Roll Call:

Visceral, a broad-shouldered, half-orc Dark Knight who wields a wicked orcish double-ax

Tabitha Gale, a slight, young human Musket Master from across the sea
Katakama Iga-Ryu, an exiled Ninja from Tian Xia
Xavos Darksun, a half-elven Summoner from Varisia
Rogan Josh, a frail, dark-skinned human Oracle of Time 

The Mighty Ebon Lions
by bcpstudio

It was a dry, sun-soaked day in late Desnus when the Mighty Ebon Lions stepped off the merchant cog the Sunset Empires and into the bustling Osirion city of Wati. The ship's captain Eton Shadwicke, a short Varisian with a face like a bulldog led them through the throngs of people in the dusty streets of the Veins to the cool confines of the Tooth and Hookah, a local inn and watering hole.

When they arrived, Shadwicke quickly made himself comfortable on a soft satin pillow, wiped his sweaty jowls with a kerchief, and ordered a decanter of pomegranate wine from a dusky young woman in a white linen dress. Shadwicke then informed the group that they had the rest of the day to buy supplies and prepare for their descent into the necropolis the next morning. He also let slip that he would be much appreciative if they would allow him to purchase from them any Osirion artifacts of historical significance they might find on their expeditions.

The next morning, the Mighty Ebon Lions stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the rune-engraved walls of Wati’s necropolis with no less than 20 other bands of sellswords, mercenaries, and intrepid scholars looking to plumb its depths. Merchants, craftsmen, entertainers, and other city-dwellers had gathered in huge droves as well, giving the whole ceremony a festival-like atmosphere.

Beneath the walls, a wooden dais was erected with a wide awning above it. Sebti the Crocodile, a stern-looking high priestess of Pharasma with bluish lips and a purple-hooded robe sat on the dais. Flanking the high priestess were two servants in white linen dresses. At the front of the dais stood Ptemenib, another priest in the service of the Lady of Graves, sweat glistening off his shaven pate even at this early hour.

As the crowd watched in anticipation, Ptemenib drew a coin from a leather sack and called out “The Dog Soldiers”. After a brief bit of commotion, a drunken halfling parted the crowd and stumbled forward. Ptemenib drew another coin from a different sack and whispered the location the Dog Soldiers were given to investigate. The doors of the necropolis creaked open and The Dog Soldiers, a group of rowdy halflings with ill-tempered war dogs strode into the necropolis.

The process was repeated, and Velriana Hypaxes, the leader of a group called the Scorched Hand was called next. She was a dour, slender woman in a wide-brimmed hat, who wore a holy symbol of Nethys around her neck. She strode up to the dais and in turn was given the location of their first investigation. There was a brief argument on the dais – no one could tell about what – before Velrianna stormed down off the dais and led her company through the yawning gates into the necropolis.

Once again, Ptemenib reached into the leather sack and pulled out a coin. In his strong, clear voice he called out the Mighty Ebon Lions. Rogan Josh ascended the dais, leaning heavily on his staff, his weak legs wobbling feebly beneath him.

“A bit sickly to be entertaining a trip into the tombs, aren’t you?” asked Ptemenib.

“In time, we all grow weak and feeble. Those of us so cursed at an early age are free to contemplate the mysteries of life that are beyond the physical,” replied the oracle.

“As you wish,” Ptemenib responded. “Take your band to the Tomb of Akhentepi. It is clearly marked on the map. Whatever discoveries you should make, the church would be most grateful if you shared them with us. Particularly those of a historical nature.”

Rogan Josh nodded to indicate he understood, but did not respond. He gathered himself and re-joined the party. As the gates once again crept open, the Mighty Ebon Lions strode valiantly through and into the necropolis, leaving the world of the living behind.

The Half-Dead City

The Half-Dead City

Prelude

Millennia ago the Osirion city of Wati was struck by an epidemic know as The Plague of Madness. When the sickness had run its course, over half of the city's population was dead. Centuries later, when the city finally recovered, the Church of Pharasma sealed off an entire section of Wati to serve as a tomb for all those who had lost their lives there.

The Ruby Prince Khemet III
by bcpstuido

Now, in an effort to stimulate his nation's prosperity, the Ruby Prince Khemet III of Osirion is formally opening Wati's tombs to foreigners for exploration. He has ordered both the local authorities and the Pharasmin church to step aside and allow entry into the necropolis, a sprawling and labyrinthine city district weathered by the sands of time and yet unmarred by tomb robbers. As news travels to the far reaches of Golarion, adventurers, mercenaries, and scholars of all types flock to Wati, the Half-Dead City to plunder the knowledge and riches that surely lie within its long-sealed walls.

But even as the doors to the necropolis creak open, the Pharasmin clergy preach that no good can come from disturbing the rest of those under the protection of the Lady of Graves.