The surviving* Maurkans, having fared poorly in their incursions into Araq territory, throw in the towel and admit that wiping out 200 or so of the reptilian bastards is likely beyond their abilities**. They will, instead, focus on the theoretically more achievable "fetch the whosiwhatsis" quest for the local Black Savant of Nefaratus***, to be exchanged for an ancient artefact*** capable of staggering devastation***, which may or may not end up*** turned against the remaining 180 or so Araq.
And then, I dunno, there was slow dancing with clockwrk? I need to lay of the absinthe, regardless.
* Still funny, for all the usual reasons. ** The characters, possibly. The players, almost definitely. *** "What could go wrong?"
The badlands north and east of Jaalad are dotted with crumbling ruins and the occasional dust choked remains of ancient graveyards. The Kamisya necropolis is one of the most intact examples of such, with an area of half a dozen or so still standing mausoleums perhaps 70 meters square at the center, bounded on the west with the broken remnants of a retaining wall, and an intact wall to the south. The walls are frequently reinforced with pillars, atop which crouch four-armed winged gargoyles clutching brass weapons. Both of the approaches gently slope downhill the further one gets away from the necropolis, while the ground gets rockier and more elevated travelling to the north and east (which remain studded with the headstones of countless common graves).
With the exception of the western retaining wall, the stonework is in curiously good shape, showing what appears to only be a few decades of weathering in this millenia old location. The fossilized remains of trees are scattered artistically amongst the grounds, and in the center of mausoleums is a twenty meter tall statue of a warrior-priest, with a thick tome in one hand and a curving sword in the other, pointing at the western horizon (and the domed mausoleum directly to the west of the statue). Those familiar with the Phae will recognize the deeply creased forehead as the location of a (closed) third eye; and the braided hair as being nothing of the sort, rather the serpentine tendrils atop the heads of the Phae. Linguists familiar with the Drakken ruins of the Kharakan plains will note that the three dimensional sigils embossed on the cover of the open book the statue clutches are similar, but not identical, to those complex hieroglyphs.
The doors to the mausoleum building open inwards, naturally. They all seem to be heavily secured from the inside (indeed, there does not appear to be any means for opening the doors from the outside), bounded by flowing, if archaic, Phaedran script of what appears to be poetry in an odd meter. The light dust that covers the area is disturbed in places, and there are signs of booted and bare (but clawed) feet have recently trod these grounds respectfully. The fierce biting winds of the Wilderlands of Zaran are eased here, and the quiet hours of twilight at dawn and dusk seem longer, and more tranquil.
Did I just buy half a dozen cheap dinosaur models in a questionable scale, but probably somewhere in the 1:64 range? I did. Are there game implications for this? There are. Additionaly, muahahahahahahaha!
In a beyond conventional post-magical-apocalypse fantasy setting, a dozen members of the "untouchable" caste of mankind ended up slave laborers in a commercial necropolis, owned and operated by a fantastically wealthy race of capitalist landowners. A forbidden tomb is in the process of being exploited by curious foreigners, when overrun by a cult of death worshippers of a more then a bit devil-tainted race known for their particularly fervent religious beliefs.
The laborers are (quicly) slain in the intersection of wealthy foreigners from the west, devout necromancers from the south, and recently unearthed reliquaries of a forgotten priesthood trafficking in mysteries man was not meant to know from outside space and time*. Notably, these laborers do not stay dead, with ongoing adventures (and a curiously evolving understanding of their unlife) focusing on the advancement in the fortunes of their own race, the return to prominence and worship of a long forgotten (and possibly slain by the jealous being now known as Death) goddess devoted to murder, and the refreshingly old-fashioned martial traditions of a rigidly honor bound yet slightly extinct progenitor race**.
"That's not your sort of thing", you reply? What do you object to? Two fisted pulp adventures of derring-do in crumbling ruins? Metaphysical ruminations on the nature of life and death, and the potency of the crimson fluid that serves as gateway and river between the two? Things that go bump in the night, and bumping right back? A narrative featuring irredeemable corruption, redemption beyond hope, and the return to power of not one but two ancient powers? "I hit it with my axe"?
Shenanigans, says I. Ia, Ia, I have no words.
* Just kidding. Totally inside time. ** Yes, fine. Japanese. With, you know, snake like tendrils for hair and a third eye. Living on a aetheric volcano, adrift in the Sea of Chaos. Like I said, Japanese. *** Some or Much of this may or may not be misinformation. But in no case is it less interesting than "what's really going on". Additionally, there was no third reference, the lights go out, and you get eaten by a grue.