Dust off the ancient Ahnks and dusty tomes, Egyptian afterlife

[Greenfield]

Dawnwind walked among the injured, easing pain as he went. He was able to channel divine power as if he were a high priest, but event hat sort of power has limits when the injured number in the hundreds.

Still, things were looking up when they reached their destination, the Palace of Two Truths.

"The "two truths" here are simple.", Dawnwind explained, his mood towards the group having warmed noticably since they'd met. "Each person may choose to face the judgment of their gods, or they may choose to face true Justice."

And the group saw that within the hall was a great bench where many judges and advisers were seated. But a great many of the seats were empty, and the judges sat idle, despite the great crowd already present.

"There aren't any gods up there.", Trum said in awe. "What's going on?"

"The gods are off in battle, as is my own lord Ra. Those who await divine judgment must await that judgment."

Many of those who had just arrived strode confidently towards the great scales. Pushing his way to the front was the wealthy man the group had seen earlier.

Maat, the goddess of Justice and Truth stood ready, and her husband Thoth prepared to record the results.

"Master Dagan, do you choose my judgment?", she asked, and he nodded confidently. She reached into his chest and brought out his heart. It was dark and hard, and his face paled when he saw it. When placed on the scale, with an ostrich feather on the other, it sank immediately.

The man was seized and cast out into the river, whose waters foamed red as the Children of Sobek made a great feast of him.

"I am Maat.", the goddess warned. "I am Truth and I am Justice. I am not Mercy."

The man's wife was next, and easily passed, for whatever her sins might have been they were burned away from her in the trials she had faced.

One mad, seeing the procession, loudly declared that he would face the judgment of his patron, Bast.

Maat interrupted him. "Do not lie to me. You have never given a shekle to her temple, nor offered a single grain of rice in sacrifice. And the only time you've ever uttered a prayer to her was at the gaming tables. Bast was never your patron."

And the man was brought forward to face the scales of Justice.

His heart was small and gray, as if it had never really grown any. When placed on the scales it slowly, slowly, dipped down.

"Too bad. If you hadn't lied to us just now, you might have passed.", Maat told him. And then he joined the others who had gone to the river.

And the procession continued, for hour after hour. Some who were uncertain chose the judgment of their patron deities, and were directed to the waiting lines. Perhaps they thought they might fare better there, or perhaps they were really ready to face judgment at all, and welcomed the wait.

Finally the line thinned, and the crocodiles of the river grew still.

Trumm approached Thoth, the scribe of the gods, bowed deeply and asked a question: "Do you know where our friends are? We've looked for them, and watched every person in the line, and they don't seem to be here."

"Yes, I know. I am Knowledge, after all, but I'm not inclined to answer, for reasons of my own.", the god replied, his quill still flying across the endless scroll. "Perhaps Maat will be in a better mood."

Sylus, who had been waiting for Trum, turned to the goddess and bowed deeply. Without rising or looking up, he asked her, "Do you know where our missing friends are?"

The goddess smiled a very self satisfied smile, and answered. "No, I don't know, in any certain sense, where they are. They are in this hall, but their precise position isn't known to me." She paused after this, a thoughtful expression on her face, then continued. "Trust me on this though, you should not pursue this any farther. No, seriously, trust me, for I am Truth and never lie. You are better off not knowing. Is there anything else you wish to ask?"

Sylus bit his tongue, lest angry words spill out, and shook his head.

Trum approached, and asked his question: "The curse of darkness that covers the mortal world. What causes it, and how can we be rid of it?"

Yeah, cliffhanger. Her answer is a bit long, and a lot of it is campaign specific. So feel free to skip the next post if you don't really care.

 

[Greenfield]

Warning: Long, campaign specific monologue to follow. You may not care at all.

“Let me tell you of the Paradox of Creation”, she begins. “The people are taught that the gods arose from the primordial chaos, whether that chaos is the swirling torrents of the Nile, or the madness of the outer darkness. That they shaped the world, and gave life to the many mortal races, that they might rule over them. Others believe that it is these very mortal races that created the gods, through their beliefs and prayers. Both are true.”

She paused to let that sink in. “Ra stepped from the Nile and saw a world in madness. He brought order, and in that order her brought forth the other gods. Thoth, who is the Scribe, was present, and recorded the rise of Ra, and in doing so he created Truth, and so I came into being at that same moment.

What caused Ra to arise in this manner though? He came to be because mortals believe that that is how he came to be. And so the gods rule over mortals, but at the same time they are influenced, nay, driven by those same mortals, and so are in turn ruled by them.

In these dark days the many peoples of the world believe that the end of days is upon them, and so they pray to their gods to be victorious in the final battles. Thus the gods are driven to fight those battles, which may in turn bring about the end of days.

But what started the whole cycle? There is a group of mortals, an arcane cabal called the Illumians. They strive for ultimate arcane mastery, and reject the guidance of the gods, for none of them will accept that even a god should have power over them.

Normally these people are divisive and fractious, making and breaking alliances with each other on a daily basis, as each is driven to prove himself the greatest by ruling all others.

But someone has managed to establish himself as the ruler, after a fashion, by proposing a great contest to settle the matter. He is the master simply because he laid out the rules. And though the others conspire and plot against him, their schemes are included within his own as he plays them to his own ends. Each seeks to rule a city or state, a kingdom and eventually an empire.

For that to happen, the old empires must fall. And for that to happen the gods of those empires must fall. And so they conspire to play man against man, tribe against tribe, city against city, to tear down the old kingdoms and set one against the other in such a way that the gods are drawn into the conflict.

The shroud of darkness is a large part of this, for it makes men to believe the end is near, and thus drives them into the conflicts you’ve seen. It is not, however, their only tool.

The children of the Nile, seeing the encroaching darkness, prayed to the river god to help them in the lean times to come. And he did, raising the waters to flood the land, to ensure a rich and bountiful harvest. The people worked hard in the fields, and their prayers and efforts were rewarded with bounty beyond expectations.

But many heard of this bounty and sought it in their own hour of need. The children of the Nile had to choose their friends carefully, and so decided to renew their ancient bond with Rome, agreeing to sell their excess to the old Empire. This will, in turn, strengthen the remains of that empire, and thus buy them a strong ally. A wise decision, over all.

To the south lay Sahara, the great desert. Without Ra’s light to warm the waters of the ocean and create clouds, there has been less rainfall to our south, and so Sahara grows. Illumians worked to expand the problem by poisoning water holes and laying blight and plague on field and flock.

The beast men and nomads of the south were thus driven by need to try and take what our children were not willing to give, and they brought their gods with them into the battle. The same type of thing is what has been happening elsewhere, by one mechanism or another.

You have been sent to deal with this, and yet you are falling prey to the same tactic that binds the gods to battle. You fight the immediate issue, but miss the cause. In seeking to win the game, you cn’t help but play it and be caught up in the Illumian gambits. You are doing better in your current venture, bypassing the army to seek the general, but even as he pulls the army’s strings, so there is an Illumian pulling his. And behind him, the master of their order, pulling everyone else’s.

Trum stood, stunned by what he had heard. "But if the gods are driven this way, forced to battle each other to protect their people, how is it that you and Thoth are here? "

Maat smiled and gave her simple answer, "I am Truth, and cannot be swayed by lies. He is Knowledge, and can’t be mislead by ignorance. We and we alone are beyond the reach of this plan."

Though their minds were awash now with endless questions, Dawnwind now approached. "My time here is now done. I must leave, to be back at the chariot by sunrise. And so it's time for you to leave as well, unless you want to face judgment."

The funny thing is, in all that long monologue, the only information that they didn't really have already was the name of the enemy, and confirmation of the mechanism of their plan. All I did was assemble what we already knew, and find someone to blame it on.

Finale to follow...

 

[Greenfield]

Dawnwind and the small group of mortals returned to the Golden Barge, and set sail once more.

To their relief, they continued in the same direction, and soon arrived at the pack of jackals that had greeted them the previous day.

"Why not take the back route, and avoid Apophis?", Trum asked.

"It has to be this way. Each afterlife has but a single entry point, no matter how you try to approach. You can leave from anywhere, but you can only enter here. It's simply the way things work."

"You managed to heal all of us in the battle.", Liam asked, hesitant to mention an obviously painful topic. "Why haven't you healed yourself?", he asked, indicating the deforming scars that covered the right half of the Solar's face.

Dawnwind also hesitated, then answered. "The venom of Apophis burns deep. He isn't a demon or god. He is primordial, an expression of the raw chaos from which all things were torn. He's older than creation, and will survive long after it's gone. He cannot die. The wounds he inflicts do not heal, not with magic, not with time. You and your friends have helped buy me another day of existence, and for that I am grateful, but all you have done is put off the inevitable."

Penn looked thoughtful, then dug into his bag to produce a vial of a thick, clear ointment.

"This is a product of the Elves, and is neither magic nor natural healing. It's an alchemical mixture called Elf Hazel, and is made to heal and remove scars. Apply it every day for a week, and see if it helps."

Trum suddenly staggered, struggling to keep his feet as something in his pack began to move and struggle.

The pack was quickly opened, and to the surprise of all, Imagina and Lex clambered out, alive and well.

Dawnwind smiled. "You never prepared them for burial, did you? I only collect the souls of those who are ready to cross. But you carried their bodies in that bag, carried them on the long journey into night, through the underworld and back out again. You earned them their new life."

Each person who had taken up a shield to protect another was given that shield. +2 Tower Shield with 5 point Acid resistance, covered in hammered gold.

Note that while Iggy held a shield, he made no effort to protect anyone except himself, so he didn't get one.

Penn and Trum each took a few handfuls of that black sand, which is essentially a plot device waiting to be used by one DM or another.

The Solar asked if Penn would like a job, at least for a while, so my character may or may not be retiring. At least for a while. I'm leaving that to the rest of the group. They may be tired of the Decanter of Endless BS that he really is. On the other hand, I'm trying to envision how long a Lawful Good Solar could endure the nearly pure Chaotic Bard. An "Odd Couple" indeed.

Penn ended up playing a major role in the events, mainly because he was the only real offensive spell caster we had. Liam is 3rd level Wizard, 7th or 8th level Rogue, and our other Wizard was one of those we were trying to get back. I really tried not to play favorites, but he was the one with ranged spell options, so he was inherently one of the few with options in some places.

And that's where things ended. Sylus' player takes over again next week, and we're back in the battle again.

Thanks for the help and advice, by the way.