"It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Kafour," Rosalie said after taking the offered seat.  She nodded at his summation of her cousin's works.  "No, unfortunately we did not come here to discuss Jackson's books, though I heartily wish it were that simple.  Jackson was murdered by cultists, and we have tracked them from New York to London, and now here.  We are, in short, searching for those responsible.  Mr. McNeil thought you might be able to aid us in that quest by way of information."

"I am very, very sorry to hear that," he said, sincerely, and looks taken aback. "Cultists, did you say? I will do my best to help you with any information I can, but if you have followed people who are fleeing from New York, there may be little I know of the specifically. But if McNeil here thinks I can be of help, perhaps there is something more to that. Tell me, how is it that you believe I can help you? If I know a little bit more about the nature of the problem that you face, I may be better equipped to provide suggestions as to what I can do."

McNeil cleared his throat. ”Prior to his death, Jackson was deeply involved in researching the  Carlyle Expedition. I imagine you’re familiar with it. Roger Carlyle and his company originally came here, to Cairo. They conducted a few digs in the Nile Valley, but ultimately departed Egypt for Nairobi and the Great Rift Valley. The expedition members were reportedly massacred by Nandi Tribesmen. Their bodies were never discovered. Sir Aubrey Penhew, the British Egyptologist, was among them.”

“One of the items that was discovered among Jackson Elias’ effects after his murder was a letter, correspondence sent to Roger Carlyle by a shop owner here in Cairo, written in early 1919. The owner was a man named Faraz Najir. Najir claimed to have located some artifacts that he believed would be of interest to Carlyle and invited him to come visit him at his place of business. He said it was located in the Street of Jackals, in the Old Quarter.”

“Jackson was trying to retrace the steps of the Carlyle Expedition. That letter is one of the strongest leads his family has regarding his possible lines of inquiry. Have you heard of this Faraz Najir, Ali? Do you know anything of his reputation?”

"This is an...interesting line of inquiry, as you've brought up some interesting subjects. I believe that the Carlyle Expedition uncovered a secret regarding an extremely obscure subject - an occult figure known as the Black Pharaoh, who some say is one of a pantheon of abominable deities more ancient than the gods of Egypt. I know that Sir Aubrey Penhew, who has consulted me several times on this specific subject, was quite interested in this particular figure. I believe that whatever they uncovered lead to their slaughter in Kenya, and it is possible the same thing is related to your cousin's untimely demise, Miss Elias."

He took his glasses off for a minute to polish them with the corner of a handkerchief which he kept in his pocket, putting them back on shortly afterward.

"As for Faraz Najir, his shop is no longer located on the Street of Jackals, but the Street of Potters, also in the old city. He is an antiquities dealer of no particular note, and I would not know of him but for a strange incident which came to pass. His former shop on the Street of Jackals is now a burned-out,
rubble-strewn hole in the ground. The locals tell a story that some five or six years ago, a hideous demon descended on the shop and set it aflame. They invoke the name of Allah each time they pass the spot, and no one will rebuild on the site."

"I initially thought there would be little that I would know about your inquiry, but I think perhaps the opposite is the case. Would you like some tea? I think we have much to talk over." He rose to his feet, and called out in Arabic. [Language unknown: Osevof! Ingameund ne astewh stame pr derenckor?]
This message was lightly edited by the player at 22:09, Mon 18 Feb 2019.

At the mention of the Black Pharoah, McNeil’s thoughts went to Montgomery Crompton’s horrific account that he had read in Life as a God. He felt his hands begin to shake involuntarily, a sudden reminder that, despite his best efforts, he’d been unable to put away enough liquor to truly numb that part of his psyche that had come to know too much. For some years, it had felt as though his life sat balanced on swiftly tilting scale. He earnestly hoped that the drink, or even better, some unforeseen hazard in a long unopened tomb, would be his end, not the crumbling of his mind into the yawning pit of madness he’d glimpsed too frequently in recent years.

Still, the part of him that craved answers, that lived to piece together mysteries unsolved for centuries, was intrigued by Kafour’s response. Bringing the question about Najir to the occultist had been the right thing to do.

He crossed his arms to conceal the tremors and smiled. ”Tea would be wonderful, Ali. I’m extremely grateful for your help.”

A mild mannered woman in a hejab came in shortly afterward, setting down a tray on the table upon which rested a steaming pot of tea, the aroma of which filled the room. There was milk and cane sugar as well. Kafour poured tea for any of them that indicated they wanted it, sweetening his own with milk and sugar and sitting down, taking a sip of the beverage.

"You said this note was from 1919? That is when the Carlyle Expedition came through here. Aubrey Penhew visited me many times previously to talk about the Black Pharoah and ask for my expertise on those obscure legends, but when they came in 1919, he did not seek me out. When I went to visit his expedition, he quite rudely rebuffed me. He looked different too...physically. He seemed ten years his junior, and was emotionally withdrawn, aloof, and strangely...spiteful. We had never previously had a negative interaction, so his behavior was strange."

"You have said that Elias was researching the Carlyle Expedition. Knowing that his expertise was in the study of cults, did he theorize what they were involved in? The more you can tell me about what you wish to know, the more I can perhaps be of aid to you."

Rosalie politely accepted the offering of tea -- her British-ness wouldn't allow her to decline -- and doctored it to her liking, spoon chiming softly against porcelain as she stirred.  She took a delicate sip and held it carefully upon the saucer as she listened to Kafour.  A slight nod followed.  "I don't think Jackson really knew what he was looking for, other than proof that the official story of the Carlyle Expedition wasn't true.  He believed that some of them survived and was researching every angle to find out what really happened.  During his research, he came across a cult called the Bloody Tongue that were said to worship the God of the Black Wind.  The Black Wind stories seemed to originate from the Aberdare mountain range in Kenya, north of Nairobi."

He leaned forward a bit when she said that some of them survived and his eyes lit up when she mentioned the Bloody Tongue, and took a small notebook out to scribble something down on it. She read that he had written in quotes 'God of the Black Wind.'

"It seems that your cousin and I were treading on similar ground in our research. I have also heard about this Bloody Tongue cult, and I believe that the God they worship this...God of the Black Wind, you called it, is another aspect of the Black Pharaoh. I learned of them when I began to research a bit into my suspicions that the worship of this deity had spread to other parts of Africa," he said.

"But...he believed that some of them survived? That is a fascinating theory, though I'm not sure exactly where it leads. There is much about this all that doesn't fit together neatly. Penhew's strange behavior. The Carlyle Expedition, and the various other Penhew expeditions..." He trailed off, sort of quietly musing while he drank his tea.
This message was last updated by the player at 23:00, Tue 19 Feb 2019.

McNeil began to reach for his tea, but found his hands too unsteady, and halted the movement halfway. Returning to his crossed arm posture, he said, ”Ms. Elias can speak to this more directly, but when the family worked to retrace some of Jackson’s steps in London, they learned that he had discovered a branch of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharoah that was still active in the city. Jackson had identified the cult’s methods in association with a string of murders that had occurred there and had informed Scotland Yard, the London police, of his suspcions.”

“As it turned out, the current head of the Penhew Foundation, Edward Gavigan, was the head of the Brotherhood there. The cult’s headquarters was found and the Brotherhood disrupted, but...at a great loss of life for the Elias family. Gavigan, unfortunately, was able to escape the authorities.”

“I was hired to assist the family shortly afterward. I had the opportunity to examine some of Gavigan’s possessions. There were a number of pieces of statuary and other items that were sacred to the Brotherhood among them. The collection left no doubt about Gavigan’s allegiances.”

Kafour listened keenly, but was openly taken aback by the news that McNeil shared with him, specifically when he began to speak about the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh and its connections to the Penhew Foundation and Gavigan. The first time McNeil mentioned the Brotherhood, Kafour went to shut the door of his office before resuming his seat to hear the rest, all wordlessly.

"So...you have heard of the Brotherhood, then," he said to the both, turning his gaze then a bit more to Rosalie, "and it seems have crossed swords with them. They are a dangerous group, and I am sorry that they have cost the lives of your kin, Miss Elias."

"I am a bit surprised at the connections to the Penhew Foundation, and especially to Gavigan. I have always respected Sir Aubrey and Mr. Gavigan and the efforts of the Penhew Foundation in the field of Egyptology. As I mentioned, I have consulted for them many a time. I can only hope that I have not unwittingly aided the Brotherhood in any black hearted endeavors." His face seemed to lose a bit of color at the prospect.

"This may explain his strange behavior the last time they were here. Miss Elias, I am an educated man. My friend McNeil here can verify my credentials. I said earlier that I didn't completely agree with your cousin on certain subjects. You see, he tended to take the view of a skeptic. He didn't quite believe in these entities or their power. While I found his writing to be of superior quality, this is the point with which I disagreed. I tell you this in confidence, but I do believe that the entity known as the Black Pharaoh existed, or perhaps still exists, along with a variety of other deities that some have come to call Elder Gods...and I know that these cults exist."

"Since Penhew died, or supposedly died if Jackson's beliefs are correct, there have been ten Penhew Foundation expeditions to Egypt. Among them, there have been at least twenty deaths, numerous disappearances, several suicides, and one certified case of madness. Most have followed the same pattern set by the Carlyle Expedition of paranoid secrecy, erratic excavation that doesn't follow the norms of our discipline, and bizarre behavior."

Rosalie frowned at the news.  "That is disturbing, to say the least.  Jackson's own writings became... erratic at the end.  Not the sort of thing one would publish.  It was almost as though his investigation of this cult and the expedition was pushing him into madness.  This seems to fit with what you describe."  She shook her head lightly.  "The cost has been high, far too high, but if you had seen the practices of this cult with your own eyes, you'd understand why we simply must continue."

"Do you have any knowledge of these other expeditions?  Where they were headed?  Their final destination?  Are there tales of some artifact of this god buried here?  Or perhaps some long-buried temple?"

He pulled out a notebook, and flipped through some pages.

"Let me see...a couple seemed to mainly focused on the Collapsed Pyramid at Meidum...some others were at the Bent Pyramid...and yet more at Red Pyramid at Dhashur. I cannot believe I didn't see this before. These were often spaced months and years apart, and the attention upon them was mainly to the accidents and tragedies that seemed to befall them, but with this context you have provided me...and my knowledge of Sir Aubrey Penhew's interests...a pattern emerges. These were all locations that are associated with the Black Pharaoh."

He refilled his tea before continuing, taking a sip before diving into something of a lecture.

"At the end of the Third Dynasty a man known as Nephren-Ka came to Egypt. Nephren-Ka was said to be a powerful sorcerer who could bring madness and death to his enemies at the flick of a finger. The stories say that he came from an ancient city in the deserts of Arabia, whose name was Irem, the City of Pillars. This place is mentioned in...one of the books in my collection. All who knew of it held it in dread. Nephren-Ka revived the worship of an old, foul god: the Black Pharaoh. Soon Nephren-Ka and that god were interchangeable in the minds of the people, and the sorcerer became known as the Black Pharaoh. Now no one can distinguish their deeds and legends.

For many years the Black Pharaoh fought with Zoser’s successors of the Third Dynasty for control of the land. So great was the power of the Black Pharaoh that no record of them now remains. For a time, Nephren-Ka ruled the Nile and its peoples. At last Sneferu arose, and founded the Fourth Dynasty, and it is said that with the aid of the goddess Isis, thwarted the evil magic and slew Nephren-Ka. Remarkably, however, a pyramid was built to contain the sorcerer’s body— I think that this perhaps insulated Egypt from still-potent magic within the corpse—but this structure collapsed even while Sneferu was building a second. This is the Collapsed Pyramid I referred to at Meidum; the second pyramid is the Bent Pyramid at Dhashur. Records imply that Nephren-Ka’s corpse was removed from Meidum and placed within the Bent Pyramid, but exploration of the site has thus far discovered no trace. Another pyramid at Dhashur, the Red Pyramid, is also attributed to Sneferu; this pyramid is said to guard Dhashur, lest Nephren-Ka rise from the dead.

Upon his triumph, Sneferu ordered all traces of the Black Pharaoh stricken from the land. Nevertheless, worshipers of the Black Pharaoh remained, and schemed for the evil one’s return. In time, the worshipers were driven south, out of Egypt and into the hideous swamps beyond the Sudan.

In the Sixth Dynasty, a cruel Queen by the name of Nitocris was thought in league with a new cult of the Black Pharaoh, sometimes called by the name Nyarlathotep, though the proof of this association is subjective.

So...you can see that it is curious that so many of these Penhew expeditions have centered around these areas."
This message was last updated by the player at 16:38, Fri 22 Feb 2019.

As Kafour’s detailed what he knew of the Brotherhood and the recent activities of the the Penhew Foundation, the remaining dullness left McNeil’s mind, his thinking sharpened by curiosity. The quaking in his hands largely subsiding, he reached for his teacup and took a sip of the warm liquid.

”You know, Ali, sometimes I wish I still had the luxury of skepticism,” he said.

”These expeditions. I know you mentioned a great deal of tragedy surrouding them. Was there ever any talk of them discovering anything of note? Did the Foundation itself claim that these efforts were successful? Or were there even rumors that valuables had been uncovered?”

“Also, you mentioned one case where someone involved in one of these digs had gone mad. Do you know who that was and what became of them?”

Silently, he wondered if any of the three pyramids might still be accessible and what secrets they might still offer up.

He shook his head, looking regretful.

"The official word from the Penhew Foundation was that these expeditions were unsuccessful. The amount of secrecy and security associated with them unfortunately prevented any information from being revealed about them. The fellow with the mental illness was sent back to England for his health. It all had the air of something kept quiet. I thought the Foundation was floundering, and trying to save itself from some embarassment. It seems likely given what you've told me that I was looking at the situation incorrectly, and that there was likely more association with the Black Pharaoh."

He tapped his finger on the table though.

"But there is currently an expedition here that is excavating at Giza, known as the Clive Expedition. They've unearthed a mummy, but it was stolen before it could be identified - another strange happening around a Penhew financed expedition. There has been some speculation that the mummy was that of Queen Nitocris, who I mentioned earlier. How or why she was stolen I do not know, but I think that the theft relates to the prophesied return of the Black Pharaoh."

McNeil withdrew his notebook and scratched a few notes on the first of its blank pages. His immediate instinct was that of a thief: to track down the Nitocris mummy and steal it from those who had pilfered it. A dangerous errand he felt certain he would have to undertake on his own, were he to contemplate it seriously. But, if it interfered in whatever monstrous plans the Brotherhood were pursuing, it could prove a worthwhile gamble.

He tapped the book with his blunt pencil. ”You shouldn’t blame yourself for not seeing through the facade, Ali. The Penhew Foundation has enjoyed an excellent reputation in archaeological circles for years. I want to believe that they weren’t always...corrupt. That there was a time when their aims were benevolent, for the greater understanding of history.”

“This Clive Expedition. Would you happen to know any of the members of the team? Anyone who might be open to speaking about their efforts, and the theft?”

"There is a Dutchman, an archaeologist, who may be willing to talk to you. He was fired from the Clive Expedition for his addiction to alcoholic beverages. I believe his name was...Jan something. I cannot pronounce it. Let me write it for you."

He took out a small piece of paper, and with his left hand, wrote out the name:
Janwillen Vanheuvelen

"He lives in the Old City somewhere on the Street of Moths, but I do not have his exact address. There cannot be too many foreigners living in those parts, though, so if you ask around and are persuasive...you should be able to find him. Take a guide who speaks Arabic."

He finished his tea and set it down.

"As far as the expedition itself, the principles are...Dr. Henry Clive. Marin Winfield. Agatha Broadmoor. James Gardner. Johannes Sprech. It is a Penhew Foundation expedition, so if it has some connection to the Brotherhood as seems likely, you should be careful: all I know of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh is that they are very dangerous people. But..they are also a secretive bunch, so it is likely that only a few of these people are in on the whole thing. There are likely innocents in the bunch, though it may be hard to tell which is which."
This message was last updated by the player at 17:14, Fri 01 Mar 2019.

Rosalie took the paper from Kafour and slipped it into her pocketbook.  On a small notepad, she added the names of the main researchers from the Penhew expeditions, nodding at the Doctor's logic.  "We are aware of the dangers involved.  I assure you, we will be extremely cautious in these matters.  It might be best if none of us mention this meeting ever took place, especially if you are still involved with them from time to time."  She looked to McNeil to see if he had further questions.

McNeil looked over his notes. ”Outside of the correspondence I mentioned, have you ever heard Faraz Najir’s name associated with the Penhew Foundation, or the Brotherhood? With the odd destruction of his former shop, it sounds as though he is something of an object of local superstition.”

He took another sip of tea. ”Also, Ali...you mentioned that you had heard of the Bloody Tongue cult as well. Would you mind sharing what you’ve learned in your research?”

"Yes, I think keeping this meeting between us a secret would be best, but I do not think their eye is upon me - and to date, I do not believe that they are aware that I have caught onto their tricks. Given my old relationship with the Penhew Foundation, let us say, that perhaps they have learned to think of me as a harmless old scholar, eager to share his obscure knowledge. I am not afraid for my safety, but still, best not to draw their eye this way if it can be helped."

He shook his head in the negative. "Of Najir, I only know of his name because of the strange story about the destruction of his shop. He does seem like a object of local superstition, but otherwise, he would not have appeared on my radar...certainly not someone I thought would have been associated with the reputed Penhew Foundation."

"I am equally poorly informed with regard to the Bloody Tongue cult. I have only heard of them in correspondence with other academics, and even they had only heard bits and pieces - scraps of information, assembled together like pieces of a puzzle, and even then the gaps are filled in with guesswork. Second and third hand information that is incomplete, but sufficient to paint a particular picture that is all too reminiscent of what I have learned here of the Black Pharoah. It is what lead me to my speculation that these were two sides of the same coin. I haven't gone through my correspondence in months, but I have it archived somewhere here."

He looked hopelessly at stacks of books and boxes full of papers, some organized, some disorganized. "I don't know how far your search will carry you, but if you go to Nairobi, let me know. I can put together a name or two of someone who might be willing to speak with you." He reached for a folder, and fumbled through its papers, shaking his head and setting it down.

"I don't have to tell you that these people are dangerous, I think, given the unfortunate ending of Mr. Elias. They are intelligent, and secretive also. They have hidden their activities in a scholarly institution, but have spread their reach somehow across the globe in other places. New York, you mentioned. And London. Here. Possibly in Kenya also, if my theories are correct. They operate by subterfuge; I could even suspect that the theft of the mummy was misdirection, and their aim is elsewhere. Watch for all these possibilities. If you have any more questions, please, my door is open to you. If you have trouble with other matters in the city, also, I am well connected here - and I can perhaps open doors. I have little love for these people."
This message was last updated by the player at 15:01, Mon 11 Mar 2019.

McNeil nodded, considering everything that Kafour had told them. ”Ali, I’m appreciative for all the information you’ve shared. Believe me, if we stumble across more questions, or take a trip to Nairobi, I’ll ask for your help.”

He stood, extending his hand. ”Many thanks, my friend.”

In the back of his mind, the question of the stolen mummy lingered. Could its theft be, just as Kafour suggested, some sort of elaborate ruse? A distraction from something more sinister? Or did some important clue rest with the corpse? How difficult would it be to track down its whereabouts?

"It was good to see you, McNeil. The beard suits you. Keep it," he said, shaking his hand.

"And it was good to meet you as well Ms. Elias. I wish the both of you luck in your inquiries. Do let me know if there is any assistance I can give you in this particular venture. This strangeness is in my area of expertise, you might say. The Museum has an excellent library, and if you make an appointment, I have a private collection that I can make available to your perusal as well, under my supervision as its steward, of course."

Rosalie rose gracefully along with the men, giving the doctor a nod.  "I might very well take you up on that offer, Dr. Kafour.  I am interested in all things historical academia and some of those tomes might be of use in our investigation.  Thank you for your time.  It was a pleasuring meeting you, as well."

She fell into step with Dominic as they left their appointment together, casting him with a curious glance.  "That proved to be quite useful, don't you think?"

McNeil nodded in agreement with Elias’ assessment, momentarily silent as he turned over each of the revelations they had collected in his mind. ”The Brotherhood..,their presence here seems stronger than I would have even suspected. The Penhew Foundation’s activities here...I have a feeling that looking deeper into each of their expeditions might reveal something of their purpose. What they are seeking to achieve. I have no doubt that they are pursuing very specific aims. And that their reported ‘failures’ were anything but.”

“The disappearance of Queen Nitocris’ mummy. Instinct tells me there’s more to that story than meets the eye. I wonder if the Queen had any connection to the Black Pharoah in antiquity? It wouldn’t surprise me if the theft was nothing but a ruse by the Foundation to enable them to spirit the Queen’s remains elsewhere.”

He paused. ”Faraz Najir remains a mystery. He obviously enjoys a sinister reputation here in Cairo. I think learning more about him could prove extremely important. Especially in light of his direct connection to Aubrey Penhew.” He considered a moment, then added, ”When we return to the hotel, I may ask the concierge to contact the guide that I hired. Asim. See if he might be able to take me down to the Old Quarter this afternoon. Lead me to Najir’s shop.”

"I'd like to know more about that Queen, as well, and why she was stolen if that is what, indeed, happened."  She considered and then shook her head.  "I don't think you should go alone, even with the guide to lead you there.  You don't know the man that well, do you?  We don't yet know if we can trust him.  If you're going in search of Najir's shop, I'll go along, as well."

OOC:

• Rosalie & Dominic, I'm going to be setting up a new thread for your visit to Faraz Najir's shop, so hold off on further dialogue here until I can get that going.
• Fredde & Leo, I'll set up an introductory post for you here.