Johan, easily spotting the shopkeepers lies, barks a few choice words in Arabic, and the man shrugs and lifts the heavy curtain to the back room.

The room at the back of the shop is tiny, nearly filled by a foul bed, two filthy cushions, and a worm-eaten low table. A wreck of a man, presumably Besart, is lying on the bed, glaring up at his visitors with wild eyes. The smell from a hashish pipe fills the room.


This message was last edited by the GM at 18:32, Sun 03 Feb 2019.

In reply to GM (msg # 13):

Dermot addresses the shopkeeper. “Is he well?” As he assumes this man to be an ally, Dermot hopes Besart to be merely intoxicated with hashish.

Questioning this wreck of a man is also far from straightforward. The rambling, shambolic figure seems far distant to the authoritative agent hinted at in his letter to Carlyle. As he relates his story, his English alternates from precise to incomprehensible; sometimes he lapses into French or even gutter Arabic. Throughout, his voice is empty of emotion, as though his soul had long since fled. At other times he pauses to puff on a small, acrid-smelling pipe. Occasionally, Besart completely forgets what he is saying. Near the end of his tale, he begins to sweat profusely.

“A lawyer contacted me. I agreed to act as purchasing agent for Mr. Roger Carlyle of the United States, who was represented to me as a wealthy American. On written instructions from Mr. Carlyle, I purchased certain artifacts from Faraz Najir, an antiquities dealer, and illegally shipped them out of Egypt to Sir Aubrey Penhew in London. I know the artifacts were ancient, but nothing more.

When the Carlyle Expedition came to Egypt, I arranged for all their equipment and permits. Their main site was at Dhashur, in the area of the Bent Pyramid. One day at Dhashur, Jack Brady came to me and told me that Carlyle, Hypatia Masters, Sir Aubrey, and Dr. Huston had entered the Bent Pyramid and then vanished. Brady was excited and suspected foul play, since the diggers already had fled the site and work had come to a stand-still. We did not know what to do, so we drank.

The next morning, Carlyle and the others reappeared. They were excited by some tremendous find, but what it was, they would not say, nor did I learn, for Sir Aubrey was a fiend for secrecy. All of them had changed in some inexplicable way, and a way not for the better; I did not ask further.

That evening, an old Egyptian woman visited me. She said that her son had been one of the diggers. She said the diggers had fled because Carlyle and the others had consorted with an ancient evil, the Messenger of the Black Wind. She said that she could recognize that the souls of all the Europeans but Brady and myself were lost. If I wanted proof, I should go to the Collapsed Pyramid at Meidum at the time when the moon is slimmest—the night before the dark of the moon. God help me, I went!

I took one of the trucks, pretending to leave for a night in the pleasure quarter of Cairo. But instead I drove the twenty miles south to Meidum, and secreted myself where she advised. There in the midnight blackness I saw Carlyle and the others disport themselves in obscene rituals with a hundred madmen. The very desert came alive, crawling and undulating toward the ruins of the pyramid. To my horror, the stone ruins themselves became a skeletal, bulging-eyed thing! Strange creatures emerged from the sands, grasped the dancing celebrants, and, one by one, tore out their throats, killing all until only the Europeans and one other robed celebrant remained.

Something more loomed out of the sand, the size of an elephant but with five separate shaggy heads. Then I realized what it was—but it is madness to speak it! I saw it rise and in a great ravening swallow as one all the torn corpses and their hideous murderers, leaving alive only five people amidst the stench of the blood-soaked sands.

I fainted. When I recovered, I wandered into the desert. There further horrors awaited me. Stumbling up a rise before dawn, I saw beyond hundreds of dark sphinxes, rank upon rank drawn up and waiting for the hour of madness when they will spring to devour the world! I fainted again, and this time I left the world for many months.

A man found me; for two years he and his mother cared for me—me, a man mindless and returned, I came back to Cairo. But I began to dream! Only hashish helps now, or opium if it can be found. My supply is low again, and my life is intolerable without it. Will you gentlemen please contribute? Only strong drugs keep me from insanity. Everything, gentlemen, everything is lost. There is no hope for any of us. Everywhere they wait. Perhaps you will join me in a pipe?”


https://i.ibb.co/wBhKk9G/wer.jpg" data-lightbox="images-msg-15">https://i.ibb.co/wBhKk9G/wer.jpg" alt=''>

In reply to GM (msg # 15):

Johan does what he can to translate the parts of Besart's tale for his companions.

"Rest now my friend" (in Arabic).

Besart eagerly clutches the $50 that Dermot offers him and stuffs them under his mattress with a litany of thanks. "You have my eternal gratitude, Sir. This will dull my brain for a long time."

The Frenchman struggles to recall the name of the woman who warned him, then took him under her roof after his encounter with the army of sphinxes. Eventually, he remembers that she and her son lived in the town of Al Wasta, near Meidum, and that her name was Nuri. Al Wasta is around 120 km south of Cairo, a trip that will take most of a day by train, car, or steamer.


This message was last edited by the GM at 16:37, Mon 04 Feb 2019.

You leave the broken remains of Besart to his hashish, and Saleem leads you to the Street of Jackals. Unfortunately, once you find the street, you learn that Faraz Najjar’s former shop is now a burned-out, rubble strewn hole in the ground. Locals invoke Allah each time they pass the spot, and no one in this enormously crowded quarter wants to rebuild on the site. According to local gossip, five or six years before, a hideous demon descended on the shop and set it aflame.

However, all is not lost. As you question the shopkeepers on the Street of Jackals, you discover that, although his shop was destroyed, Faraz Najjar survived but was horribly burned. He has since opened a new shop in the Khan el-Khalili, an ancient marketplace off the Sharia al-Muizz. Liberal offerings of money help pry this information from the shopkeepers. Everyone you question speaks of Najjar in hushed tones, believing him to be cursed, and all make warding gestures against the evil eye whenever his name is mentioned.

You make your way to the Street of Potters. In the midst of a dozen pottery shops is a door and window clearly marked “Faraz Najjar” in Arabic, “Curios” in English, and “Magasin des Antiquités” in French. Several stories of tenements tower above. Pushing open the door reveals a store packed full of merchandise. There is a curtained door towards the rear of the premises.

The shopkeeper is portly, and badly scarred on one side of his face. He wears a traditional Arab djellaba and a turban. He hovers expectantly over the new arrivals, encouraging you to examine his “magnificent and ancient wares” more closely, all the while attempting to keep his scarred face turned away from you.


This message was last edited by the GM at 00:01, Tue 05 Feb 2019.

Najjar is obsequious and gracious to begin with, but at the first mention of demons, his eyes bulge and he begins to splutter and choke. He takes a beautiful jeweled scimitar from a case and shakes it at you, cursing loudly in Arabic about your relation to a diseased camel (كان والدك جمل مريض - no language roll required — his tone of voice is enough to convince everyone present that what he’s saying is far from pleasant or complimentary, even if you can’t make out the exact meaning).

Gustav says “No no, I don’t mean to cause trouble. I don’t believe it either. It’s just rumors. I have heard that you have the best curios in all of Cairo!”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears. Najjar runs to the doorway and shouts for help, crying out that these accursed foreigners are trying to rob him! A sullen, hot-eyed crowd of local residents appears almost instantly.

Gustav flashes his badge and states that he is a police officer, but that seems to incite the crowd even more. They close in on you, muttering and cursing...


This message was last edited by the GM at 20:57, Tue 05 Feb 2019.

With a mix of honeyed Arabic words, a persuasive tone, and a large sum of coins, Johan manages to defuse the situation somewhat. The crowd eventually disperses, but some remain outside the shop, glaring at you.

Najjar wraps up a tacky statue of Bast that you have somehow managed to buy, and says in a low voice. “I cannot talk here. I will go for tea and prayer at the al-Hussein Mosque in an hour. You can meet me there if you wish.”

Najjar meets you at the side of the mosque and leads you through several short hallways to a quiet room. According to Najjar, Roger Carlyle sought information about the Black Pharaoh, whose reign was supposedly ended by Sneferu, the first pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty. Najjar had come into possession of a number of items related to the Black Pharaoh, which he offered to Carlyle through his agent, Warren Besart. Even though he’d done work for Besart many times before then, he has not spoken to the Frenchman since he handed over the artifacts and does not know where he can be found.

Amongst the items he sold to Besart were an ancient scroll detailing the entrance to a hidden room in an unnamed pyramid, within which the Black Pharaoh was supposedly entombed; a bust of the Black Pharaoh, a small drum (a tambour) bearing odd symbols supposedly of mystical power; and a strange circlet set with a large zircon, which was said to be the crown of the Black Pharaoh and the key to his triumph over death.

Inquiring about the artifacts, Najjar eventually admits that he stole them from the house of one Omar al-Shakti, a local businessman. Najjar had heard rumors about the existence of such items after Warren Besart approached him on Roger Carlyle’s behalf. It wasn’t until later that he discovered that al-Shakti was also involved with the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh in Egypt. He’d heard of the cult but never believed in such nonsense until they came after him and a terrible demon burned his shop.

While he does his best to stay away from the Brotherhood, Najjar claims that fresh rumors have reached him that the cult was involved in the recent theft of a mummy from the Clive Expedition, which is currently digging at Memphis. This expedition is sponsored by the Penhew Foundation.

Najjar has also heard that the Brotherhood wants an item located in the Mosque of Ibn Tulun, but he does not know what it is or why the Brotherhood wants it. It can’t be for any noble purpose, that’s for sure.

“If you really want to know more on occult matters related to the Black Pharaoh and his cult, I suggest that you seek out an old wise woman called Nuri. She lives in the town of El Wasta, close to the pyramid at Meidum. I am fairly certain that her son also worked for the Carlyle Expedition during their time in the region, although the man’s name escapes me.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:21, Wed 06 Feb 2019.

In reply to GM (msg # 21):

Gustav is relieved, that situation with the mob could have easily cost his life and the life of his companions. Gustav will take it easy for now and let the more... diplomatic ones in the group to lead.

Gustav will also start to look for clothing appropriate to the local crowds of Cairo.

"No fancy shiny jewellery outside the costumes OK? if I learned anything from my time as an undercover cop from Red Hook, is that you gotta look the part first and foremost. we'll try to blend in as much as possible from the outside."

You book passage on the Thomas Cook & Son Nile steamer Thebes. It departs from Cairo in the morning and will take three days to reach the province of Beni Suef.

It is a leisurely trip, with stops on the way to visit Memphis, Sakkara, and Minya. The steamer carries 48 passengers in relative luxury, ranging from earnest students of archaeology and history to the idle rich bored with the night life of Cairo, from the highly placed government officials entertaining visitors to Egypt to the nearly bankrupt gamblers attempting to make their fortune at the roulette wheels each night.

On the third day, you finally dock at Al Wasta. It is not so much a village as it is a large area dotted with small farms and houses. On arrival, asking around identifies that there are too many Nuris in town for that name to be significant. The right Nuri is almost impossible to find without adequate Arabic and a systematic search. Careful questioning in Arabic throughout town, mentioning the fact that the Nuri you are seeking once looked after a foreign guest for a prolonged period a few years ago, at last leads you to a tiny hovel, where you find the woman you are searching for.

As you ask around for Nuri, you learn that her son, Ubaid, died last year. Apparently, he just wandered into the Nile and drowned himself. His right arm and shoulder and the right side of his face had been gouged away by some unknown beast, and his mind damaged.

Nuri looks extremely old. Her jaw and both of her hands have been burned away. As soon as you enter the hovel, her eyes light up. She makes awful gurgling noises, and points with her stumps to a corner of the hut.




This message was last edited by the GM at 14:01, Fri 08 Feb 2019.

Dermot asks Saleem to make the proper and polite greetings. He assumes that Nuri wants you to sit down. Nuri shakes her ruined head as you begin to sit down. She once again gestures to the corner of the hut. In the corner, amidst blankets, pots, and other brica-brac, is a rush basket painted with a red symbol.

Dermot looks from the basket to Saleem. “Is she... offering us food? Or does she want us to examine the basket?” Saleem looks freaked out by Nuri. He shakes his head. "I do not know, sir."

Dermot reaches out a hand as if to touch the basket, and looks inquiringly back at Nuri, who nods. Dermot casts a sweeping glance at the party that says something like “here goes nothing”. He’s slightly unsettled but he’s no pansy. Within the basket is an 18 × 23 cm slab of white stone several inches thick. Its irregular edges make it apparent that it was broken from a larger piece of worked stone. On its surface is inscribed a strange symbol which appears to be remarkably similar to the Eye of Horus combined with, possibly, the head of an inverted ankh.

Nuri silently pleads for Dermot to take the stone. Dermot gazes into those pleading eyes for several long seconds. Then he reaches in to take the shard and shows it to the rest of the group.

Rachel studies the stone. The incisions are many centuries old, and such limestone was used as a facing on many pyramids. Examining the stone in greater detail reveals yet more information. The stone fragment is not white or even creamy white but has a pinkish cast—a facing color used only on the Red Pyramid at Dahshur, as any good Egyptologist knows. The fragment is half of a warding symbol that is sometimes worked into the capstone of a pyramid. This ward is known as the Eye of Light and Darkness.

As you examine the stone, Nuri seems to have fallen asleep on her reed bed. Gustav moves over to check on the old woman. She is dead...

Dermot covers her face with some cloth and crosses himself. Saleem mutters a prayer in Arabic. “Amen to that,” says Dermot, not understanding Arabic. “The Blessed Mother guide your tortured soul.”

https://i.ibb.co/FXKsqny/hjg.jpg" data-lightbox="images-msg-24">https://i.ibb.co/FXKsqny/hjg.jpg" alt=''>

You leave the village and decide to head back to Cairo. At the train station, two Egyptian men seem to observe your every action. They also get on the train, on second class. Dermot spots one of them wearing a small inverted ankh symbol around his neck.

In your first-class cabin, you discuss how to deal with your new problem and decide to hop off at the next stop. This is at the village of El-Aiat, on the banks of the Nile. A few people get off at the station, including you - and your two shadows. They hang back and mingle with the dozen or so people here, covertly glancing in your direction.

You wander down the dusty streets of the small village, looking for a qahwa (small coffee shop) and soon locate it. From the outside it is drab and unannounced; inside it is tiled with Arabic calligraphy in the Fatimid style in bright and vibrant colors. A central courtyard filled by a large spreading tree gives a sense of calm and greenness to the whole establishment. Fragrant sawdust on the dirt floor absorbs the inevitable spills and the thrown coffee grounds before the cup is refilled.

On the counter at the back of the main room the large brass sarabantina (similar to a modem espresso machine) heats the water for the coffee. It is polished to a high gloss and is the pride and joy of the owner as it belches steam into the air. The continuous bubble of water acts to hide the exact words of conversations; many illegal acts are planned near the main counter, but only lip-readers are privy to the secrets. Here, over sweets and tiny cups of thick Turkish coffee, pleasantries are exchanged, gossip spread, and jokes told. Here also are the games of chance and skill, from checkers and the Egyptian game of rnankalch, to cards (kutschina), backganunon (tawla, or tric-trac), and dominoes.

The proprietor (qahwagi) sits at a large table near the door, greeting all who enter and scowling at the day's crime figures in the local newspaper. He looks up in surprise as you enter, unused to European visitors. Saleem greets him politely and explains that you merely wish to sample his famous coffee. He grins and shows you to a corner table. The other patrons of the qahwa gawk at you as you sit down.

https://i.ibb.co/Mkt3ywb/1870-...ers-coffee-house.jpg " data-lightbox="images-msg-25">https://i.ibb.co/Mkt3ywb/1870-...ers-coffee-house.jpg " alt=''>
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:01, Sat 09 Feb 2019.

In reply to GM (msg # 25):

As Rachel and Johan head over to the counter with Saleem, Dermot confers with Gustav. They take up a post near the door, across from our corner table, such that you’d need to look one direction for the table and roughly the opposite direction for the two of us. Assuming a casual air, Dermot leans against the wall and makes small talk with Gustav.

“So I say to her, I say, ‘That’s a cute hoor, chattin up the knackered lad for a bite and a pint, but he’ll think you’re a floozie if ye don’t get a move on!”

Johan and Rachel take a seat. Moments later, the two men enter cautiously. Gustav discreetly aims his gun at them and motions them towards the table. They look surprised - even more so when Dermot also produces his gun, which he promptly drops. It clatters loudly to the floor, landing at the feet of the coffee-shop owner. All eyes are on Dermot.

Dermot clears his throat. “Saleem, please announce to the fine patrons of this establishment that all food and beverages will be on me for the next hour.” Keeping his eyes on the two, he squats down slowly and retrieves his Webley.

The two men sit down at the table with you. They both seem unconcerned with the situation. One is middle-aged, with a grey beard, the other a younger man, with one milky dead eye. "Been having a nice stroll, have we?” chides Dermot. “Exploring Egypt by train? Wonderful weather, once you account for hundreds of miles of dry barren wasteland. Or maybe you had another purpose?".

Rachel pulls out a knife, but after a moment’s hesitation puts it away again, while Gustav goes in police mode, addressing the middle-aged man with two simple questions. “Who sent you? Why are you following us?” He aims his gun directly at the man’s crotch.

Saleem translates the questions into Arabic. All eyes in the coffeehouse are still on your table, and the room has fallen silent, apart from the bubbling of the sarabantina.

The middle-aged man smiles and leans back in his chair. He speaks in Arabic, which Saleem translates; “You talked to the old woman, and now she is dead. You are all very nosy, and you will pay the price.”

He raises his voice to address the entire room and speaks in Arabic. "Qutil hula' alnaas , 'aw al ikhwan sayamisu hadhihi al qaryat min al tarikh!" The men at the tables turn pale and then slowly and reluctantly begin to get up. Some draw knives and one pulls an old pistol from his djellaba.

Saleem gulps. “He just said – Kill these people, or the Brotherhood will erase this village from history!”
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:12, Sun 10 Feb 2019.

In reply to GM (msg # 27):

Looking around, Rachel slid her hand into her messenger bag, finding the hilt of her knife. She frowned, as Gustav asked his questions-- how was he sure the man could understand him? Nevertheless, the questions did coerce some form of a reaction from the man--and a cold chill fell over Rachel as out of the corner of her eye, she saw the patrons of the place slowly turn towards them, rising up and pulling out weapons.

She stood up to head out, but the next thing she heard were three shots fired, and blood splattering allover the table as Dermot fired three rounds into the younger man. Looking down, she saw blood gurgling from the holes the bullets made, and without thinking, Rachel drew her knife and tried to stab at the man to finish him off quickly.

[09:20, Today: Rachel Katz rolled 48 using 1d100.  Brawl (Knife).
Used 3 luck to make it a success]

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 28):

Gustav was setting up the middle aged man for a chat when he suddenly heard Mr. Murphy discharge his weapon and Ms. Katz attempting to shiv the younger one. With alertness and alacrity honed through the years as a police officer in Red Hook, Gustav interpret this signal in a millisecond before he burst out 3 rapid shot of his own against the middle aged man. In one swift motion, Gustav stood up and aimed his revolver menacingly at the crowd with a gun.

"Would you dare?"

realising his language, he then told Saleem to translate.

"better not get involved with the brotherhood's business" in the most threatening tone Gustav can offer.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Mon 11 Feb 2019.

Looking around, Rachel slid her hand into her messenger bag, finding the hilt of her knife. She frowned, as Gustav asked his questions-- how was he sure the man could understand him? Nevertheless, the questions did coerce some form of a reaction from the man--and a cold chill fell over Rachel as out of the corner of her eye, she saw the patrons of the place slowly turn towards them, rising up and pulling out weapons.

Dermot immediately pulls the trigger of his Webley and fires a round into the younger man. There is a click as the second round jams in the gun.

As Rachel stands up to leave, the next thing she heard is a shot fired, and blood splattering all over the table as Dermot shoots the younger man. Looking down, she sees blood gurgling from the hole the bullet made, and without thinking, Rachel draws her knife and stabs at the cultist to finish him off quickly. The blade plunges into his neck, and he collapses over the table.

Gustav was setting up the middle-aged man for a chat when he suddenly heard Mr. Murphy discharge his weapon and Ms. Katz stabbing her knife into the younger one. With alertness and alacrity honed through the years as a police officer in Red Hook, Gustav interpret this signal in a millisecond before he burst out 3 rapid shot of his own against the middle-aged man. In one swift motion, Gustav stands up and aims his revolver menacingly at the crowd.

"Would you dare?" Realizing his language, he then told Saleem to translate. "Better not get involved with the Brotherhood's business" in the most threatening tone Gustav can offer.

Shocked at the sudden display of savage violence, the patrons of the coffeehouse slowly sit down again. The proprietor approaches the table and bows his head respectfully. With a shaky voice, he speaks in Arabic, translated by Saleem. “Please good people. I beg of you, leave. We will dispose of these men so that they will never be found. Our village must be safe.”

In reply to GM (msg # 30):

Dermot makes a similar gesture of respect and says, through Saleem, "I'm sorry for violating your fine establishment with blood. Go and do as ye say, quickly and thoroughly. Please accept this meager restitution for your trouble."

Dermot, ATM that he is, pulls out another $50 and hands it to the proprietor.

"Friends, I believe we'd better catch the next train."

The next morning you head to the famous Egyptian Museum, a staggering storehouse of Egyptian antiquities. It is not far from the Nile and the Kasr el-Nil Bridge. The building’s large ochre dome is a prominent landmark in the city. This former palace houses an ever-growing collection of everything precious to the Egyptian past, and is open to visitors from 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. The museum has a large collection of Egyptian occult material, much of it hieroglyphics on papyrus scrolls.

Rachel asks for Dr. Kafour’s office and you are shown there. Dr. Ali Kafour is a short and thin older man, who has never lost his love for the occult. When he grows excited in conversation, his excess energy spills out as a characteristic set of fidgety movements. He stands from behind his cluttered desk and greets Rachel with a smile. “Ah, Ms. Katz! Delightful to finally meet you in person. Please, take a seat. You gentlemen as well. Now, how can I help you?”

In reply to Dr. Kafour (msg # 32):

"Dr. Kafour!" Rachel greeted, extending a hand for him to shake and engaging in small talk with regard to the current trends in the antique trading world.

"We do not wish to waste your precious time--we are here gathering information about the Clive Expedition...among other things. But we can start with that. What do you know of it?"

“Hmmm, well. Let’s see. It is of course lead by Dr. Henry Clive. He has four associates with him. There used to be another team member, a Dutchman, but I believe he was let go for some reason. They are financed by the Penhew Foundation, and Dr. Clive and his party have been in Egypt for the last five months or so. They are currently excavating at Memphis, having left the Giza plateau following the theft of a mummy of an unknown female from Mycerinus’ pyramid, the smallest of the three Great Pyramids.”

Dr. Kafour adds that several authorities have speculated that the mummy is that of Queen Nitocris, a mysterious figure of the Sixth Dynasty. However, before tests could be carried out or the mummy unwrapped, the heavy sarcophagus and its contents disappeared, much to the bewilderment of all concerned. Considerable efforts by the police have turned up no leads. The site was well guarded and only one entrance to the secret chamber existed.

According to Dr. Kafour, the unidentified mummy recently stolen from the Clive Expedition at Giza was undoubtedly the remains of that beautiful and evil ruler. She had been buried alive, but no trace of her was found until the Clive Expedition uncovered a secret room in the smallest of the Great Pyramids. How or why she was stolen he does not know, but he thinks that the theft relates to the prophesied return of the Black Pharaoh.

Dr. Kafour also believes that the Carlyle Expedition uncovered a secret pertaining to a sorcerer called the Black Pharaoh and that the discovery somehow led to their slaughter in Kenya. Sir Aubrey Penhew had long studied the Black Pharaoh, and Kafour and Penhew had discussed the topic several times and traded information about that subtle presence.

When last he came to Egypt six years ago, Sir Aubrey did not seek out Kafour, and when Kafour visited the expedition dig near Dahshur, Sir Aubrey rudely rebuffed him. Kafour vividly recalls marked changes in Sir Aubrey—physically the man seemed younger, and emotionally he was withdrawn, aloof, and curiously malicious.

“I can tell you of the Black Pharaoh if you wish?” he adds.


This message was last edited by the player at 15:52, Tue 12 Feb 2019.

At the end of the Third Dynasty, a man known as Nephren-Ka came to Egypt. Nephren-Ka was a powerful sorcerer; he brought 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 Al Azif. 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 between 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 rose and founded the Fourth Dynasty and, with the aid of the goddess Isis, thwarted the evil magic and slew Nephren-Ka.

Remarkably, a pyramid was built at Meidum, by Sneferu’s command, to contain the sorcerer’s body. Kafour speculates that this, perhaps, insulated Egypt from the still-potent magic within the corpse; however, the Meidum pyramid collapsed and a second, which was already under construction, was hurriedly repurposed. This second pyramid is now known as the Bent Pyramid at Dahshur. Records imply that Nephren-Ka’s corpse was removed from Meidum and placed within the Bent Pyramid, but exploration of the site has discovered no trace, despite rumors of a hidden chamber within. Another pyramid at Dahshur, the Red Pyramid, is also attributed to Sneferu; this pyramid is said to guard Dahshur, lest Nephren-Ka rise from the dead.

Upon his triumph, Sneferu ordered all traces of the Black Pharaoh stricken from the land. Nevertheless, worshippers of the Black Pharaoh remained and schemed for the evil one’s return. In time, the worshippers were driven south, out of Egypt and into the hideous swamps beyond the Sudan. In the Sixth Dynasty, the cruel Queen Nitocris was thought to be in league with a new cult of the Black Pharaoh; though the proof of this is subjective, Dr. Kafour believes it to be true. In an aside, Dr. Kafour casually mentions that the Black Pharaoh is sometimes called by the name Nyarlathotep.

Some say the Black Pharaoh was one of a pantheon of abominable deities more ancient than the gods of Egypt. These old gods were utterly inhuman and dedicated to chaos and madness.

• Nephren-Ka was said to possess a huge beast, of which the Sphinx at Giza is but a small, inaccurate representation.
• The voice of Nephren-Ka is said to have been carried throughout the land upon a black wind, a wind which destroyed at his whim.
• One prophecy implies that the Black Pharaoh will arise “fingers and toes after the Great Good One,” a reference which many have taken to mean 20 centuries after Jesus. A new age then begins, destined to end the dominance of mankind, and bringing “freedom” and “stark truth” to the Black Pharaoh’s followers.
• Man-like but inhuman worshippers of the Black Pharaoh were said to lurk underground in the deserts, occasionally waylaying innocent passersby.
• The Great Sphinx at Giza is said to have had an important function in hideous rituals held by Queen Nitocris.

Dr, Kafour believes the Black Pharaoh and Nephren-Ka existed, as do the pantheon of gods of which the Black Pharaoh was a part. He calls these entities the “Outer Gods,” and says they are led by the demon sultan Azathoth. Dr. Kafour has seen servitors of these gods in the desert, and knows for a fact that the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh exists in present-day Egypt, though he knows nothing of its organization, leadership, or activities. He also suspects that worship of the Black Pharaoh is growing in other parts of Africa. For example, he has heard of a cult, called the Bloody Tongue, in Britain’s Kenya Colony. The cult worships a monstrous god, which he believes is another aspect of the Black Pharaoh.


This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Tue 12 Feb 2019.

As Dr. Kafour describes the dark secrets of Egypt, Gustav interjects and respectfully asks dr. Kafour about Omar al-Shakti.

The doctor nods and shoos his pet cat down from a shelf, where it has been watching proceedings with interest.

"A very wealthy and influential man. I have no doubts he is somehow connected with the Brotherhood. You would be wise to watch your step around him. I said as much to Mr. Elias when we met."


This message was last edited by the player at 21:01, Tue 12 Feb 2019.

In reply to Dr. Kafour (msg # 36):

"Why should we watch our step around Omar al-Shakti? Have you met him yourself? What sort of business does he run?" Rachel pressed. After a moment, she added, "Is there anything else you can tell me about Sir Penhew?"