The streets were drowned in darkness, and in such a setting, a black-garbed and dark-skinned sorceress was just another spot of shadow. Slipping quietly along towards the Museum of War and Conflict, the sorceress Méabh moved from alley to alley to avoid being noticed. Arriving outside the museum, she paused to observe the frontage. The guards she and her companions had encountered before had been joined by more. There was no way she would get past them as things were. She needed a distraction… She glanced up behind her at the building she was sheltering against. Yes…
Five minutes 
work saw her inside the back door of the rather nice restaurant, and within reach of the linen cupboard. A dozen or so tablecloths stacked just inside the shutters should make a nice short-lived blaze. She reached inside herself for the magic, and fire flared out from her spread hands. Flames rushed up the stacked cloth, and Méabh grinned.
The flames flared up the front of the restaurant, and the lizard guards goggled at them for a minute or so. Two jogged over for a closer look and Méabh slipped around the back of the Museum. A scroll provided the spells Spider Climb and Silence, with Improved Invisibility from her own repertoire.Then she simply walked up the wall and noiselesly smashed the window of the pentagram room.
Inside, she found things had changed in one small detail; the tiny crystal shape of an etherscorpion trap rested on the far side of the pentagram. Racking her brains for memories of what she'd heard Lynien describe of the trap she'd triggered, Méabh reckoned that the thing would go off just as she reached the pentagram itself - probably leaving her enough time to get through and away. It looked to have been placed so as to catch intruders coming in through the door rather than the window.
With her wand poised, she braced herself and then leaped onto the glowing sigil. The world tilted, and then went away.
Méabh blinked, and looked around her. Being unable to see was an unusual experience for a species with darkvision, but here she was blind - it was completely dark, and even her eyesight couldn't see where there was no light at all. Not a problem. She paused to listen carefully for signs of movement or breathing that might betray a lurking ambusher. Nothing happened, so she used an older power, her legacy from her mother, and pure white light spilled from her upraised hand.
It showed her a plain, square room with dry stone walls. Under her feet was a pentagram matching the one she'd just stepped on except for being dark. In each corner was a stone statue, human-sized, of a mildly stylized figure in rather peculiar and sparse clothing. Each statue had a string of pictographic characters carved onto it, and it seemed to Méabh that this might be writing of some sort.
The air was hot - very hot - and dry, and the stone floor was slightly sandy. The contrast with the rainy cold of Lossal was quite strong, and yet Méabh felt quite comfortable.
A stone door was visible in one corner, and judging by the clean scrape-marks it had been dragged open recently. It was the only direction visible, so she walked slowly and cautiously out and along the passage beyond. It turned once, then opened into a very large room beyond.
This room was decorated sumptuously in the strange pictograms. Stone slabs dotted the floor, carved with scenes depicting the elabourate enbalming of the dead. Towards the far side of the room, several of these slabs had been violently disturbed and flung out of place.
Approaching these, she realized that the hacked corpse of a gargantuan scorpion was sprawled in the open space that had been made. When alive, it must have been around forty feet long. It had clearly died in combat with sword-wielders, and its' tail had been hacked apart to get at the poison-sacs. Judging by the quantities of black orc-blood spattered around, it had not been easy to kill, and Méabh hoped she was not going to meet another like it.
Again, there was no choice of routes to follow. A single passage led out, and she walked down it. It took her to a large, high-domed hall with a mighty statue in it - very similar to the ones in the pentagram room. She eyed this statue, which had the air of a warrior god about it; an impression confirmed when she looked around at the murals on the walls.
Two passages led off at roughly 45 degrees to each other, and she chose the left at random. It was short, and led to another similar hall enshrining a deific statue. This one reminded her strongly of her father; she shuddered and passed on. The next passage opened into a third chamber, again housing a representation of a strange god. This one made her pause. He was wise of mien, slender and unmartial in appearance, and clasped to his chest a heavy book made in the ancient style of multiple rolled scrolls. With a start, Méabh realized that the book was not part of the statue itself, but a separate object, an actual book.
The desire to possess this book washed over her, and she stepped up onto the dias to try and reach up for it. As she did so, the stone statue stirred, and then leaned down. Despite its’ eyes being featureless orbs of stone, she felt certain it was looking at her. Its’ lips moved, and it spoke. Méabh started as she realized that, although she knew it was a question, she did not understand a word.
Three times it spoke, and then it stepped back into its’ place and froze once more into stony immobility. Méabh tried to pull the book free, but it wouldn’t move. Rather baffled she moved on.
The next hall was significantly bigger, and so was the statue. Lordly, masterful and dominant, this was clearly the ruler of whatever Gods these were. The crown on its’ head was golden instead of stone. She passed this one by, and came to another, the same size as the first three, a woman this time, beautiful and distant-looking. From her murals, it seemed she was black-skinned with silver hair and eyes, and a goddess of death – the ornate coffin she bore seemed to confirm that.
Beyond her 
dome was a change – a square hall with stairs leading upwards. Méabh started up them carefully. After a while, her sharp eyes picked out a place where half-a-dozen or so small bronze darts were stuck into the left-hand wall. Casting around, she located a couple more on the steps, and more orc-blood. Some careful checking located a pressure-plate on one of the steps. Aha! There be traps…..
The next one was easy to find, for it had been partially dismantled. She stepped through the column of falling sand and carried on. She could see the next one from quite a distance, and when she reached it, she grinned mirthlessly. The signs had indicated that her comrades were probably here, but this pretty much proved it. A massive grid of steel spears – several smeared with human blood – lifted back up to head height and smashed so badly that it was jammed in the corridor.
At the top of the stairs was a similar hallway to the one at the bottom, with passages off. She tried the middle passage, but around halfway down became aware of a powerful effect radiating from the stones. It induced a feeling of deep unwelcomeness in her, and she backed off.
The second passage took her around several corners and then – unexpectedly – up a slope and into the open air. She found herself in a desert. Dunes marched away as far as the eye could see, and the glare was dazzling. The heat was incredible, and despite her relative comfort in the interior of the pyramid, she was not happy out here. She returned to the inside.
The next passage she tried took her to more stairs. Again, after a few minutes climb, she realized she was looking at Lynien’s handiwork; a trap mechanism, dismantled and left open. A few strands of grey, ancient bandaging lay nearby, and a few spots of human blood were visible on the stairs.
At this point, Méabh thought it worth trying the Message spell. She worked the magic, naming her companions and directing the effect up the dark stairs. Almost immediately……
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