Seemingly unaware of her own movement as ever, Ophelia drifts towards the secret northern passage, peering along floor, walls and ceiling for hazards.  She uses her thirty-foot aura of Detect Magic to sense for arcane wards as she had found at the false door.

Areas that are illuminated, even dimly, appear bright to her, though her darkvision has a more trouble with the darkness beyond which appears as dim light.

Ophelia's Perception:  16 for brightly and dimly lit areas and 11 at disadvantage for the darkness beyond.

"... Upon the ancient stone and reflected in the black water with the sun shining at midnight, the strangling fruit shall come ripe and in the darkness of that which is golden shall split open to reveal the revelation of the fatal softness in the earth ..."

Zephirah shrugs off Satina's comment about considering to pray first next time, offering her a playful grin instead. “In my line of work, it’s usually safer to beg forgiveness than ask permission—gods included. And trust me, my shoulder thanks you for sparing it.”

She loosens the rope from her arm and slips in behind the others, bow held ready as she sweeps the corridor walls and floor with a cautious eye before she steps into the passage. (Perception: 3)

If Ophelia's Perception (see above) and Detect Magic aura detect no hazards or magical effects respectively, and if the others are too hesitant to proceed down the corridor into darkness, the she-elf slips past her companions and wanders into the northern hallway, eyes wide like a child's.

... through sunless caverns, measureless to man ...

Satina had moved slowly north in the hall, and as Ophelia slipped past, she moved to keep up. "You see any signs of danger?"  (OOC - I had rolled a rather poor Perception roll a while back. I don't think much has happened since then.)  

Zephirah ghosts along at Satina’s shoulder, eyes sweeping the blank stone. “Nothing out of place,” she murmurs—then adds in a hush, “which is exactly what unnerves me. Calm halls in tombs are usually just the breath before the storm -or better swarm, or trap, or angry guardian.” (I know you didn't ask Zeph but for her the world is centered on her. She also rolled low on Perception earlier.)

Nephthys and Thoth quietly and cautiously follows along into the secret corridor.

Perception
Nephthys: 4
Thoth: 17

Zephirah slips ahead, careful not to outpace the soft pool of light from Satina’s shield. Keeping one hand skimming the corridor wall, she edges to the bend and leans just far enough to angle her gaze around the corner—eyes narrowed, breath held—before easing back to report what she sees.
(Perception: lower of 5 or 20)

Zahara watches Ophelia drift forward like a ghost. Her brow furrows in the grim calculation of someone already weighing what consequences might follow.

As Satina and Zephirah advance with more care, Zahara follows at a deliberate pace, her staff held loosely in both hands now. 

She steps forward, passing close to the wall, avoiding the center of the corridor, eyes fixed on the gloom ahead.

Quote from Culuril >>

Satina had moved slowly north in the hall, and as Ophelia slipped past, she moved to keep up. "You see any signs of danger?"  (OOC - I had rolled a rather poor Perception roll a while back. I don't think much has happened since then.)  

Ophelia continues to pad ahead serenely, reaching the westward bend in the north passage alongside Zephirah and peering around the corner.

"Aye danger, danger all around,
Yet dim the sight and soft the sound..."

The group carefully proceeds down the north hall, Ophelia and Zephirah daring to peek around the corner to the west.

Ahead, they see that two ornate wooden chariots sit upon platforms in a chamber, positioned as if ready to charge across the desert sands outside, though no mounts are harnessed to their yokes. The chamber’s walls are carved in relief with scenes of charioteering, racing, and war. A number of humanoids appear to have been placed in the chariots, their skeletal remains sitting peacefully.

Ophelia eyes the skeletons in the chariot warily (for once), her Detect Magic aura on high alert for magic, particularly necromancy.

... bring forth the seeds of the dead to share with the worms that gather in the darkness and surround the world with the power of their lives while from the dim lit halls of other places, forms that never were and never could be writhe for the impatience of the few who never saw what could have been ...

The twisting, discordant cadence spiraling through her head in a never-ending helix, she steps forward cautiously.  Perception:  18

Satina moves to keep up with the others, coming around the corner near Zephirah and Ophelia. Her shield provides light so she can see one of the chariots.  Keeping her voice low, she asks, "You suppose we can just walk through? Or do we need to convince the skeletons that we mean no harm?" 

(Perception: 20)

"If these skeletons are animated I would be surprised if they won't simply attack anyone entering the chamber, we should be prepared for that at least, in fact, we should probably expect the chariots to be animated too." Nephthys says quietly as she peers into the chamber in front of them.


Thoth history to recall any significance of this type of chamber: 5

Zephirah slips past the lintel, boots gliding to the chamber’s edge. She keeps a wary distance from the chariots, pressing her back lightly to the carved wall. Raising her viol, she draws the bow in a measured, foreboding cadence—low strings pulsing like hooves in slow motion, each beat a warning that steel may soon follow song. With her gaze fixed on the skeletal drivers (how many can she count?), she murmurs just loud enough for the party to hear over the gathering rhythm:

“Step easy—if these riders wake, let the music mark their pace for our blades.”

The somber notes hang in the dust-laden air, ready to swell at the first hint of rattling bone or rolling wheels.

Zahara steps softly into view beside the others.

“They were buried as warriors,” she murmurs. “Champions, perhaps defenders in death. If they rise, it will not be out of malice… only duty.”

 Zahara moves to one of the nearby walls or carvings, studying the reliefs for inscriptions or sacred iconography, something to indicate what rites governed their burial.

Religion check: (10+2)=12

"Would it matter if they killed us out of duty or malice then?" Nephthys asks with an incredulous look. "If they rise I can only assume it is becuase they are animated to kill intruders. I don't claim to be an expert in necromantics but I think they will simply do as instructed, duty or malice doesn't really come into it. In the eyes of those who sought to protect this pyramid and it's secrets we are of course simple tomb robbers, I hope that doesn't trouble anyone." 

Zahara glances sidelong at Nephthys, the faintest trace of dry amusement curling at the corner of her mouth, but not quite becoming a smile. “Malice, duty—no, it won’t matter to their blades,” she admits softly. “But it matters to me.”

Her gaze lingers on the skeletal figures in their chariots. “Things set to kill out of cruelty… they can be reasoned with, tricked, or enraged. But duty… duty does not waver. It does not argue. It simply is.”

“Besides,” she adds with a quiet shrug, “we’re not here to rob the dead. We’re here to learn what someone buried to keep hidden. The difference may be small, but it’s there.”

She lifts her staff again, continuing to gently trace one of the carvings without touching it, trying to determine any meaning.

"We're here to take that jeweled skull right, and I don't know about the rest of you but I hope to find more things in here that will make it worth risking my life. If it makes you feel better I suppose you could tell yourself we are not here to rob the dead but to me that's just hipocrisy." Nephthys says with a shrug. "Anyway, lately robbing the dead has become something of a national pastime." She adds with a grin.

Zephirah lets her bow rest on the strings, eyebrow arched at the exchange. “My outlook’s simpler,” she says with a light shrug. “I’ll grant a thing belongs to whoever can still claim it. But if I courteously ask the present ‘owner’ for objections and hear only the hush of centuries—well, silence sounds remarkably like consent to me.” She taps a playful chord, half-smile flickering. “Of course, if the bones decide to speak up in protest, we’ll negotiate—preferably with fewer arrows than words.”

If nothing moves in the room, Zephira begins to investigate the wall -counterclockwise- for traps and secret passages. (Investigation: 14)

Satina keeps an eye out on the objects in the room as the others speak of malice, duty, and the implications of what they are doing.  She hears them, but mostly lets it just fall away. She's more concerned about the task at hand.