Wilds - Death's Door?

After watching Ohwatoo check the three sarcophagi in the last chamber for magic [none], Maro says, "You know, it's odd there are no inscriptions or writing anywhere in here."

Durego shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not. Most tombs of Erlinga's faithful have little in the way of markings or writing either. Perhaps the statues are markers for those entombed here."

"But we've found many more sarcophagi than statues," says the elf.

"Maybe they're the important people. The others... retainers? Slaves? Guards? Who knows what these people believed," Grendor is keeping watch as Ingvild examines the next set of doors for traps. "We ready to open this door?"

The others nod and take their positions as Ingvild signals all is clear. He steps back, and Strom and Grendor shove the doors wide. The space beyond is an east-west hall, with several branches: north into a bare chamber of black stone, south to another pair of doors, and ahead to another small chamber that holds a single black and white marble sarcophagus. This one is sealed with bands of rusted iron, whatever symbols were present have long turned to dust. In the hall, a statue of an ancient man in common clothes stands across from the double doors.

Ohwatoo moves forward, but Ingvild stops him. "Wait. Let's let the elves look first. Perhaps their eyes will see something we've missed. He gestures at the disturbed dust on the floor and on the sarcophagus.

Maro and Rawon move forward, leaving Durego watching the rear and Raúguey at the doors south.

"Well, whatever's been in here, comes in regularly. There are many marks in the dust, too many to make out what caused them. It's all swirled and smeared, like wind-blown dirt or debris," Rawon rises from his stooped posture and starts looking over the bare granite walls.

"Hmm. See this?" Maro gestures at the top of the sarcophagus. "There was something here, see how the dust is discolored?"

Rawon joins him. "I see what you mean. Maybe a plaque or scroll that's rotted away?"

Maro nods. "That's my thought. Maybe that's why there is no writing elsewhere. It was there." He waves Ohwatoo in.

The mage examines the sarcophagus. "There's something here. Faint, or perhaps blocked by the stone. It's... here." His hand stops over the center of the sarcophagus.

In the hall, Raúguey shivers. "Brr. Drafty place. We should keep..." His eyes widen. "What's that!?" he exclaims, pointing at the doors to the south.

Grendor, Ingvild and Strom turn at his call. All four watch as something steps through the door, literally through. Take a man and strip it of all features. Fill it with dark gray shadow and wrap it shifting fragments and pieces of black. Add a faint purple glow where the eyes once were. It pauses for but a moment, then drifts forward, arms outstretched, dust stirring in its wake.

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