"Herimul!" yelled Hamakir. "Chosen of Sokar, favored of the wind, keeper of the final storm! I am a humble man in the service of Sokar. I seek you!"

A geyser of sand erupted behind Hamakir. He spun around and watched as more sand was pushed up from below by a power unseen. The sand piled higher than the dunes, and then spread out to either side, revealing a flight of worn stone steps. The square mouth of a buried structure was at the bottom.

Hamakir took the stairs quickly and passed into darkness...

In the middle of the room was a chair carved from stone. A desiccated figure occupied the chair. The empty eye sockets stared at Hamakir, and black and broken teeth lined the lipless mouth. A ring of gold circled the skull, wisps of wrappings hanging around it like hair. The tattered remains of clothing and burial linen did little to hide the skeletal frame beneath. Bone fingers scratched at the arm of the chair in agitation.

"Why do you disturb me?"