Tomb of Javid

Here’s an unusual sort of “puzzle encounter”:

The Tomb of Javid is the secret resting place of Arcanum General Javid, a wizard of great power who died centuries ago. Javid, an imperial archmage of the Celdic Empire, built his Tomb not only as a burial place, but also—indeed, primarily—as a repository of his vast arcane knowledge. In other words, Javid wanted his tomb to eventually be found, wanted it to be entered, its secrets plumbed, and the knowledge stored within to be recovered—but only by the worthy. In the hundreds of years since his death, no one has found Javid’s Tomb… until now.

Following a clue (acquired from a source the nature of which is irrelevant right now, but which you had good reason to believe was reliable), you—a party of high-level adventurers—have located what appears to be the entrance to the Tomb of Javid (if, indeed, that is what it is). You descended deep beneath the earth; you followed a tunnel, which ended in a door, which you opened—and found the following:

Before you is a hall as magnificent as it is utterly empty. Fully a hundred feet across, with thirty-foot-high ceilings, this place could easily serve as a royal ballroom. The floor is marble—a single, solid sheet of marble, in fact—with a striking natural pattern. In the center of the ceiling, a massive, crystal chandelier hangs, illuminating the entire hall with bright, warm light. The walls are surfaced with stucco, and painted with an elaborate mural that runs all the way around the perimeter of the hall, and depicts scenes from the Celdic Empire’s history—the rise of the city of Celdanna, the Empire’s great conquests and terrible tragedies and mighty heroes and wise rulers… it’s beautiful work, full of religious allegory and subtle detail, truly breathtaking. The ceiling is painted with a star map—partly realistic, partly fanciful, with the constellations shown as mythical animals and legendary warriors and so on.

In the middle of the far side of the hall is a set of massive double doors. Each door is ten feet across and twenty feet tall, and the doors are sculpted so as to depict, in relief, the face of a fierce lion, several times life size. The doors look to be solid steel, with the lion’s head plated with silver and gold.

The inner side of the entry door is painted gold. The floor is immaculate and free of dust, as are the walls, the chandelier, etc. Examination with magic-detecting senses or spells reveals that everything in the hall radiates a very faint magical aura, which you identify as a simple enchantment designed to keep all surfaces free of dust and dirt. The candles of the chandelier also radiate another faint magical aura; this is an enchantment that keeps the candles—which are actual candles, not just imitations—burning eternally (this is way, way more expensive than, e.g., a continual flame spell would be—but the effect is much cooler, or rather, warmer).

Other than the wooden door through which you entered the great hall, and the double doors on the opposite wall, there are no other entrances or exits, nor are there any windows (obviously—the Tomb is many hundreds of feet underground).

When anyone approaches within 10 feet of the huge double doors, a stentorian voice booms out: “What lies beyond is not for you. Go back.” (The message is not repeated, even if you withdraw and then return.)

On the double doors, there are no handles, locks, visible hinges, or any other mechanisms. A rogue or similar character may inspect them to discover that there are no traps (nor are there traps anywhere else in the hall). The doors don’t radiate magic (indeed, they’re the only part of the grand hall, other than the wooden entry door, that does not). If touched, the doors also make the skin tingle slightly upon contact.

How do you proceed past this room, and into the rest of the Tomb?