Hiram Carter fancied himself an explorer and archeologist, bringing the lost treasures of the past to the modern world. When he had begun his journey, he was nothing more than a failed academic with big ideas. History, as a subject, was a rather indisputable one. The ideas of the masters on the great events of the world and lost civilizations left no room for hypothesis, no room to negotiate the facts. They were set on their truths, and when Hiram had come forward asking 'What if?', they had laughed at him, and quickly kicked him out.
So Hiram had set off to prove them wrong, to discover the truths of the past and show them to the world at large. He was successful at discovering tombs and ruins that had been long forgotten, and had empirical evidence showing the truth of his claims. What he soon discovered however, was that the world at large didn't care what had happened in the past, and the scholars who had laughed at him refused to see his evidence. As it turned out though, the riches of the past were big sellers to the wealthy. Rich men and women the world over, loved to show rare pieces to their friends and associates at parties. The more jewel encrusted the better. So it was that the bookish Hiram Carter soon became an expert grave robber.
Equipped with the knowledge of the academy he'd attended and the tenacity that had gotten him kicked out, Hiram explored dangerous ruins, and the forgotten burial places of kings. The more dangerous, the better the haul, and thus Hiram did not remain bookish for long. Twiggy limbs and the stoop of a bookworm were traded for tightly wound muscles and a strong back. His pale complexion darkened with constant exposure to the sun, and soon Hiram was drawing the eyes of the ladies. The travel and rough company he kept taught him to survive by his wits. And though he's still mostly a coward at heart, he has learned well the meaning of high stakes, high reward.
Armed with a machete and a hand crossbow, Hiram found himself at the entrance of another lost tomb. This one, as it was, buried in the dunes of the Moraki Desert. The team of Essyrni men he'd hired had just cracked open the rock slab that covered the passage down into the tunnels of this long forgotten treasure trove. At least Hiram hoped it was a treasure trove. He'd spent the last year and a great deal of his own capital in locating this place. It was a good sign that it was discovered sealed, but some of the men were afraid to enter. The superstitious people of the sand country believed that curses would be visited upon any that desecrated the resting place of the ancient kings. Nonsense is what that was. Often Hiram found that a tomb was protected by magic, sometimes even had magical entities like a djinn or efreet, even demons or devils, bound to them as guardians. These were all the workings of men though, not curses from the beyond, just very real magics and traps.
With a torch in one hand, and a list of notations in the other, Hiram began his descent into the darkness. He had told the men in their native tongue to stay behind him, and to be careful to step only on the tiles that he did. The entrance of this tomb was already lavishly decorated, precious metals and gems covered inlays and alcoves. This would be a great haul, if he survived the deterrents set in place by the builders. It wasn't all the jewels set at the opening to the tunnel, or even the vast treasures that he hoped that lie within that had brought Hiram to this location. It was the promise of the find of his life. The ancient king buried here, was said to have lived hundreds of years. For many of the magical races of the world, that was not extraordinary. This long dead king however, was reportedly human, through and through. He was kept young by a magical amulet that stopped his aging. As the legend went, he had guarded the secret of his youth from everyone, and the mage that had created the medallion, took the secret to his grave. Over the years he was nearly worshiped as a god king, that is until his youth had evaporated overnight. One of his many wives, not knowing the magic of the necklace, had removed it in his sleep to have it polished. When he awoke, the king was an old man, and fading fast. Even returning the amulet to its place around his neck was not enough to keep death at bay. The grand tomb that he thought he'd never use, was soon sealed with his newly interred mummy inside, the amulet around his neck. This was the sort of artifact he'd have to keep for himself, no matter its worth in gold, eternity was worth so much more.
As he crept along, taking every precaution with his steps, Hiram couldn't help be excited. He wasn't sure the four carts outside would be enough to carry all the wealth within the tomb, and he would soon have his hands on the eternity he'd need to spend it all. Just when he was beginning to feel that everything was going perfectly, one of the hired workers stepped off the careful path. His greed to much to be dampened by his superstitions, the man ran to a statue, encrusted with rubies and diamonds, and began to pry the gems off with a knife. He'd been lucky that he didn't set off any of the traps, but the man who chose to follow him was not. One wrong step, and magical wards activated, bringing quick doom to the narrow passageway they were all in. The gem covered statues were in fact golems. The one being looted of its adornments lifted its jeweled fists and brought them down on the head of the would be looter. He stood no chance at all, and the arm he lifted to protect himself was broken just as his head was smashed like a melon.
The group had passed several such golems, and it seemed that in activating one, the rest came to life as well. Two more stood between Hiram and the cavernous room at the end of the passageway. He knew he could not fight them, and he knew that there were other traps in the hall as well, but there was little he could do. The cavern was closer than the entrance and so Hiram did what a smart coward would do, he ran. As he made many missteps, spears flew from holes in the walls, fire shot forth a few times, and even a pit of spikes opened up. Hiram was fast and strong from years of exploring, and his quick reflexes kept him alive. His hired hands were not so lucky. Of them all, only two survived, the least likely by Hiram's opinion. Short and fat, or hunched and weasely, didn't seem to make for the types to make it through the gauntlet they had just survived. The bodies of the other five lay mutilated or burned by the many traps that had sprung. The golems were now returning to their places of rest, the recent threat had gone beyond their notice.
Hiram reached out and pulled the lever set in the wall at the end of the chamber. According to his notes from the texts and maps he'd read, it would deactivate all the traps, so they could exit without incident. Too bad the switch was on this end, and not at the entrance. The builders probably felt that would make the traps pointless, but Hiram liked the idea. He then turned to his last companions offering them his hand. He had not really interacted with the men, or known any of their names. Coming through this together seemed an important hurdle to cross, and he would be glad to know the names of these men.
"I think it's time proper introductions were given", Hiram said in flawless Essyrni, "as you know, I am Hiram Carter. And what are your names good sirs?" The short, fat man took his hand first, he had a firm grip and looked right into Hirams eyes as he introduced himself. Hiram could see the bravery in this man as he stood before him.
"I am Tennin asu Menaka am'Eliak am'Donen," the man said as he shook Hiram's hand, "I hope the pay is worth all this trouble. My two wives will kill me if I happen to survive and don't bring home enough to feed our children in the coming months." Hiram smirked at the comment. In Essyrn, men all but owned their wives, but most men knew that to lead a happy life, one must keep their wives happy.
"I assure you that your wives will be pleased with the riches you will bring home," Hiram nodded to Tennin, and then offered his hand to the weasely looking man.
"Ressick asu Chenan am'Tonu am'Donen," was all the hunched man said. He gave no introduction but his name, and his hand was clamy as he limply shook it with Hiram's.
"Donen," Hiram asked, "am I to take it you gentlemen are related?"
"Distant cousins," Ressick replied.
"Very distant," Tennin corrected. The derision was apparent in his voice. Though they were of the same tribe, it was obvious to Hiram, that Tennin was not pleased to have Ressick in his family tree. He wondered what that was about.
"Well gentleman," Hiram said to the men as he lit a lamp inlaid in the wall, "it's time I showed you some of what we came for." As he finished his words, the fire in the lamp spread down a hidden channel in the wall, lighting the lamps in the chamber. Soon all the lamps were ablaze, and the vast chamber was bathed in light. There was even more riches than Hiram had expected, and the breath of all three men was caught in their throats as they looked upon it.
