Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 1 - Anubis Murders by Gary Gygax Page A
Authors: Gary Gygax
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Set and Anubis to strike down the nobles and king, and a near-riot of enthusiasm.
"When you take coins from the son of Set, you acknowledge his power, the greatness of Set and An-ubis. Yet you must also believe, tell others, and make ready for the time of slaying. We know it is soon. A great priest from the land of AEgypt now walks in Camelough itself!"
There were mutters of disbelief, quickly hushed.
"Yes, there is such a one, and he has come to demand the oppressors cease their rule. I know this, and now you do. Pity our brother whose name is Setne Inhetep. It is written that his words will not be heeded. They will kill our brother, and then will we rise up and avenge the martyred one. And our leaders will be at our head, as Set and his son, An-ubis, are leaders of all lords."
The sound of the gong rocked the chamber, hanging and reverberating for a long moment. The assembled faithful shifted and murmured expectantly. The three priestesses disappeared.
In their place appeared two burly men in pseudo-Egyptian garb of red-and-black striped cloth. They huffed and strained as they carried a metal-banded coffer out and placed it before the masked priest, who waited until the pair were in position a few feet behind him before speaking again. "It is time to accept Set's blessing! Let none with false hearts remain here. If you are faithless, the great one will know, and fierce jackals will come forth and tear those unbelievers to shreds! I will pray to our masters now. All not worthy must depart as I do so, for Set will read each one's heart. Then will come his blessing."
The jackal mask inclined, pointed towards the ass-headed idol, and an indistinguishable chanting issued from inside it. There was an uneasy shuffling in the crowd, and a handful of people exited. "Shouldn't we be leavin' too?" the tart urged. The scar-faced man shook his head but gave her a little push in the direction of the curtained doorway to the stairs. "Be on yer way, lass, if ya 'ave a mind ta do so. Ya've erned yer pay as far as I'm concerned. As fer me, I be one who believes—in a manner a speakin', that is, so's it'll be me 'ere an' ya out." The exchange took only a few seconds. The young whore seemed uncertain, but the threat of being torn to shreds was too much for her, despite curiosity and the hint of largess about to be distributed. She went.
The masked cleric tugged upon the handle of the coffer's lid. It opened slowly, and even in the poorly lit basement, its golden contents were discernable from far back in the temple. There was a collective gasp. "First, our lord Set gave us only bronze coin," the priest boomed. "Few were here to receive that blessing. More were on hand to gain the coppers which next came. But last week, there were fine silver pieces for you who serve Set and Anubis. The hour of the tyrants' doom is almost here: Now the red one grants us rich gold 1 ." The crowd began to cheer, but the leader cried, "Wait I"
The noise subsided until the sound of breathing could be heard. The priest dipped his hands into the chest, raised them, and a score of glittering disks cascaded down. "Set withholds his blessing!" There might have been something similar to a mutiny then had the cleric in the jackal mask allowed the shouting and rage to grow. He raised both arms and thundered, "SILENCE!" At that same moment, a pair of monstrous black jackals, animals larger than the biggest wolf, stood where the two assistants had been, and flashes of red electricity, crackling bolts of miniature lightning, flashed through the air overhead between the pillars and arches of the subterranean vault. The crowd was awed, all eyes on the mock-priest.
"We have in our midst an opposer. Here before Set and the mighty Anubis stands one who would see them thrown down and dishonored!" There were hisses and growls. Men and women, tough and dangerous, peered around as if hoping to recognize the foe by sight and tear him or her to bits before the gigantic jackals
"When you take coins from the son of Set, you acknowledge his power, the greatness of Set and An-ubis. Yet you must also believe, tell others, and make ready for the time of slaying. We know it is soon. A great priest from the land of AEgypt now walks in Camelough itself!"
There were mutters of disbelief, quickly hushed.
"Yes, there is such a one, and he has come to demand the oppressors cease their rule. I know this, and now you do. Pity our brother whose name is Setne Inhetep. It is written that his words will not be heeded. They will kill our brother, and then will we rise up and avenge the martyred one. And our leaders will be at our head, as Set and his son, An-ubis, are leaders of all lords."
The sound of the gong rocked the chamber, hanging and reverberating for a long moment. The assembled faithful shifted and murmured expectantly. The three priestesses disappeared.
In their place appeared two burly men in pseudo-Egyptian garb of red-and-black striped cloth. They huffed and strained as they carried a metal-banded coffer out and placed it before the masked priest, who waited until the pair were in position a few feet behind him before speaking again. "It is time to accept Set's blessing! Let none with false hearts remain here. If you are faithless, the great one will know, and fierce jackals will come forth and tear those unbelievers to shreds! I will pray to our masters now. All not worthy must depart as I do so, for Set will read each one's heart. Then will come his blessing."
The jackal mask inclined, pointed towards the ass-headed idol, and an indistinguishable chanting issued from inside it. There was an uneasy shuffling in the crowd, and a handful of people exited. "Shouldn't we be leavin' too?" the tart urged. The scar-faced man shook his head but gave her a little push in the direction of the curtained doorway to the stairs. "Be on yer way, lass, if ya 'ave a mind ta do so. Ya've erned yer pay as far as I'm concerned. As fer me, I be one who believes—in a manner a speakin', that is, so's it'll be me 'ere an' ya out." The exchange took only a few seconds. The young whore seemed uncertain, but the threat of being torn to shreds was too much for her, despite curiosity and the hint of largess about to be distributed. She went.
The masked cleric tugged upon the handle of the coffer's lid. It opened slowly, and even in the poorly lit basement, its golden contents were discernable from far back in the temple. There was a collective gasp. "First, our lord Set gave us only bronze coin," the priest boomed. "Few were here to receive that blessing. More were on hand to gain the coppers which next came. But last week, there were fine silver pieces for you who serve Set and Anubis. The hour of the tyrants' doom is almost here: Now the red one grants us rich gold 1 ." The crowd began to cheer, but the leader cried, "Wait I"
The noise subsided until the sound of breathing could be heard. The priest dipped his hands into the chest, raised them, and a score of glittering disks cascaded down. "Set withholds his blessing!" There might have been something similar to a mutiny then had the cleric in the jackal mask allowed the shouting and rage to grow. He raised both arms and thundered, "SILENCE!" At that same moment, a pair of monstrous black jackals, animals larger than the biggest wolf, stood where the two assistants had been, and flashes of red electricity, crackling bolts of miniature lightning, flashed through the air overhead between the pillars and arches of the subterranean vault. The crowd was awed, all eyes on the mock-priest.
"We have in our midst an opposer. Here before Set and the mighty Anubis stands one who would see them thrown down and dishonored!" There were hisses and growls. Men and women, tough and dangerous, peered around as if hoping to recognize the foe by sight and tear him or her to bits before the gigantic jackals
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