Gameplay

With a sharp word and quick wave Thomas motions the workers to step aside so his boss would have a better view. He puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it. The cigarettes were hand rolled, but not by Thomas. He buys them at a market stall near his rooms from an old man with a huge pearly smile and yellow stained fingers. The lighter is cheap, and second hand. The silver plating has worn through to bare steel on the corners and it is badly dented. He closes his eyes and for moment, and he is almost able to pretend that the grains of sand hitting his face are flakes of snow. He breaths out his lungful of tar and the moment is over.

His clothes are creased and rumpled, which could have been from the work of the day, but equally could have been because Thomas had slept in them last night. His face is sun scoured and his eyes are bloodshot. Only two things about Thomas looked well cared for. His boots, which are supple and well oiled and the curved fighting knife that shines in the sun on his belt. The sheathe is polished silver and elaborately decorated with gold wire inlay. The handle is rich dark wood, and looks worn with use. The knife is beautiful, slim, and elegant. Everything Thomas is not. It looks very out of place on his cracked leather belt.

Thomas has a crooked nose and a cauliflower ear that spoke of someone who had been engaged in hand to hand combat many times. He might have been handsome once. He had the chin and jaw of a handsome man. But the effects of life has made his face a craggy ruin.

He looks over to his boss, waiting for orders.

Dr. Robert S. Whittaker was sitting at a corner camp across the excavation site, his eyes trailing the lines in a thick book. Sweat trickled from his temple in long lines, making a soggy trail mixed with the dust and sand grains. He absentmindedly itched and dabbed the sweat beads with his handkerchief. They were very close to unearthing the structure and claiming whatever was within. Since the discovery of the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen, this has become a literal 'gold rush' in the Academia. Whoever could find another got rights to study and access to funding. This was his chance to be a part of it. Will it be another Pharaoh? Or will it be a priest? May be a scribe?

Their group consisted of an odd motley crew, but he did find an archaeologist among them. Atleast someone will understand the inner meanings instead of salvaging and selling whatever they could unearth. He heard the voice of Thomas Ackerman, who was doing some sort of security work. Snapping the book close, he rose from his seat and took his writing pad. It seemed like the labor crew had finally cleared the entrance. It was time to explore the mysterious structure. He drank water from his canteen, anticipation rising, thinking about the prospect of becoming the first person to explore a virgin tomb.

Robert was wearing a dark earthly brown coat that had gathered a healthy coat of sand and dust. He scratched at his handlebar-style moutsache and rubbed it clean. His dark ash-brown hair was dirty from all the sand, but it was too late to manage that. Cleaning his thick-rimmed spectacles and lighting up his smoking pipe, he walked towards the entrance of the structure. On the way, he nodded affirmatively at the members of the labor crew before coming close to steps that descended into the stone slab doorway. Finally, he could put his knowledge to some practical use.

Lady Bishop steps forward and gives a curt nod to Thomas. He may be more rough than her usual acquaintances, but he certainly seems to get results since she arrived in Cairo and escorted her to the expedition site. She remembers when one of the beggars became particularly aggressive, but Thomas gave the man a quick cuff and scattered them away. Of course she had checked with her contacts and his background, discovering his dishonorable discharge. However, such a man would be more willing to work for a woman if he had a hard time finding other contracts. Especially if the money was right and a chance of a ticket away from Egypt.

She opens her parasol and peers down the steps to the entryway. She is surprisingly tall, barely an inch shorter than the men she is working with, but time is clearly catching up with her around her eyes and midsection.

As Thomas smokes and Dr. Whittaker's pipe arrives with its own unique scent, the lingering tobacco smell reminds her of the cigarette case tucked away in her reticule. She recalls clandestine letters, late night visits, and the scent of rose perfume, but the memory fades quickly as sand and dust pelt at her even with the veil over her face.

She turns to the professor and gives him a curt nod as well. She had spent years learning and researching, but not on languages as would be expected so the professor was an invaluable addition to the party. So many had already ventured ahead and been snapped up by other rich patrons and the ones left behind were loathe to leave their comfortable armchairs for the heat they face now. She did wonder if the excitement in his eyes as the tomb entrance comes into view is more a glint of ambition than exhilaration, but she quickly turns back to the prize they have been working towards.

"Ready to put that brain to work Dr. Whittaker?"

Without waiting for an answer, she turns back to the ex-soldier.

"Thank you Ackerman. Let us get out of this sun," and she waves an ivory gloved hand to move the stone slab, opening the entrance.

Eugen was busy carrying out surveying work. Concentrating, he looked through the small binoculars mounted on a tripod, read directions from his compass and transferred the results to his sketch map.

All of a sudden he heard excited chatter, which happened every now and then when the workers discussed things with Ackermann that didn't suit them or which they rejected out of superstition. But then he heard Ackerman instructing the workers to be quiet and a strange silence filled the excavation site...

Eugen interrupts his work and looks up. He can see that Dr Whittaker had also stepped out of the shadow of his canopy and is looking over at Ackerman. Lady Bishop stands next to him Bishop.

Instead of being in the pit, shovelling and clearing away the rubble, the work party is gathered at the edge of the pit, gazing down in awe.

He hopes so much that they had found something this time and that the excitement in the air is in vain again.

In an unladylike manner, Lady Bishop snaps her parasol shut and eagerly rushes down the steps and into the darkness.

Finally, our hard work and investments are finally paying off!

"Well, I say..."

Suddenly, cries from outside and then a loud *BOOM*!A high-pitched whimper echoes in the chamber.

Thomas had been waiting for one of the local workmen to fetch an oil lamp when the Lady Bishop rushed down the stairs. Cursing under his breath he followed close behind her. As soon as the slab slams back into place Thomas unthinkingly crouches into a fighting position and draws his knife. The gentle hiss of the blade against the sheath is drowned out by the reverberating boom of the slab. He stares into the dark vainly, desperately wish he had that lamp.

Robert followed Lady Bishop down, wondering what he might discover within this pristine tomb. However, the curse of this locked tomb seemed to have answered their intrusion. As the sound echoed from the crash of the massive stone slab, he turned back and screamed, "NOO!"

After the scream and darkness, it dawned on him that he along with his companions were trapped in this nascent tomb. Was this going to be their end? Surely not such! Lady Bishop had hired all those laborers; they will definitely try to lift or break open the stone. Many must have not received their pay yet. What he needed right now was a light!

Robert spoke out, "I hope everyone is alright? Lady Bishop? I heard you. Are you hurt? Mr. Chornyi and Mr. Ackerman? I can't see a damn thing. We need a light."

After catching up with the others, Eugen follows them down the stone steps. He would have preferred it if they had taken some photographs and descriptions first.

But Lady Bishop did not know the usual procedure, closed her parasol and hurried down the steps with Ackermann. Dr Whittaker followed them, and so eventually did Eugen.

* * *

As he is the last to enter, he feels how much cooler it is here. But the air tastes pale and stale. His eyes have no time to adjust to the darkness of the chamber and before he can do anything, it goes pitch black with a deafening crash.

Eugen takes a leap forwards.

‘Whoaa!’ he shouts in a shrill tone.

* * *

‘I ... I ...
My bag. Candles,’ he answers Dr. Whittaker, but his heartbeat is pounding in his ears.

He fiddles awkwardly with his satchel.

Robert nodded at Eugen when the room was finally illuminated by the candlelight. "Excellent work, Mr. Chornyi. It is my folly; I should have brought a lantern with me. In the depths of this tomb, a light source with oil would have served us all. Do you have more candles perhaps?"

Robert moved closer to the wall depicting images and hieroglyphs. He remembered that a tomb always had another entrance through which they might be able to exit. However, often those were hidden in riddles of images, depictions, and stories written on the walls. The oppressed air of the tomb and the flickering candlelight were a grim reminder of how little time they had to find out this exit. Bringing out his writing pad, he started drawing the symbols, trying to understand what it meant about the original resident of the tomb.

OOC:

That's a steep price, but this is a one shot. So, I guess why not?

"Thank you, Robert. Ahm ... Doctor Whittaker.
This is one of four candles.

Any idea how to get out of here? I can't hear any working sound from behind the slab.", says Eugen.

He tries to hold the candle so that as much light is shed as possible and keeps looking for a way out.