Charlie was many things, but they all had one thing in common, his schemes against his father. This time he sought power in the most unlikely of places, legends. Some may be fairy tales and others wildly exaggerated, but this particular legend had ties to history. Educated guesses could be a form of proof if a scholar could draw a link between actual proof, even bits and pieces. And Charlie knew just the right scholar, they had spent most their life burried in books and research. The only downside Charlie could immediately think of was the scholars child, another mouth to fill and this one added nothing to the workforce.
The expedition had started in Essyrn, of course they had, where else then in civilization would you reliably find people. Recruitment had started there, but they had arrived at the ruins some few days ago. The only reason they hadn't actually begun was because they hadn't found any graves, tombs or other records of an Eamon.
The longer it took without gaining any results, the more agitated the scholar became, coming up with one theory after the next, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to be unintelligible to any who would overhear. The latest was that perhaps in the past Eamon was spelled without an E, this theory could be important due to one of the points of interest, a still standing tomb with an A sign above the doorway. The scholar had always dreamt of the prestige of rediscovering something of importance that had been lost to history. It lead him to rash decisions at the lack of results, he would normally be more cautious but at this point, he rushed to the tomb.
The tomb was big enough that twenty, or so, people could stand cramped in it at the same time. It had an opening, instead of a closed door, presumably to allow others to visit and pay homage to the departed. When the scholar hurriedly attempted to run in, he disappeared at the opening, only to reapear, a minute or two later, two steps in, dead on the ground.
"Did anyone else see that?" Charlie couldn't help but to ask. Where had the scholar gone those few moments? What killed him? What had he seen? "That is our entry, before we start..." He moaned internally, given a nod to the kid and a silent moment for her loss. He would normally be more understanding and perhaps even kind, but this expedition could not stop at this stage. "I will re-read the legend of Eamon, as we know it".
"Through the gates of hell,
The guardians dwell.
Conquer death,
Commanders without breath.
Force of life taken,
A terrible power awaken."
"Who goes first?" Again, he was many things, a brawler or assassin too mention a few, but definitely not a warrior to fight a foe head on. For this expedition he was a merchant and it made sense that he would let the more adventurous sort go first. He was there for one thing, the aforementioned power, hoping that there would be enough treasures to pay the others, rather then from his own coffers.
