(Savaged) Mummy’s Mask - Session Seven - 22/11/2018
Bes watches in horror as the light behind his friend’s eyes goes out and barely reacts in time to duck below the next sweep of Melu’s deadly axe-chain.
“Clearly, the legend of the Pale Bowman was exaggerated,” Melu snorted, “He’s not half the man he’s made out to be.”
“You’ll die for that jest.” Bes said, discarding his sword and readying his lightning spear.
Before he could discharge the power stored in the weapon’s core, whistles sounded in the surrounding streets and a horde of bronzecaps swarmed out of the stonework.
“Throw down your weapons!” Commander Shepses bellowed, “You are all under arrest!”
Faced with overwhelming numbers and unwilling to start shedding the blood of the city watch, Bes tossed his lightning spear to the ground. None too gently, he was seized and secured by the Voices of the Spire and taken to the Grand Mausoleum for questioning.
Atop the fishery, Cluedo and Vardis watched as Bes was taken away. Creeping to the other side of the roof, they spotted Billu’s little boat bobbing in the shallows behind the warehouse. Rather than submit to the fickle hospitality of the temple guard, both Cluedo and Vardis leapt into the crocodile-infested river and splashed over to where Billu was waiting for them.
“What happened to the others?” Billu asked, as he hauled Cluedo out of the muddy water.
“Captured or dead.” Cluedo groaned, “And we will share their fate if we do not leave immediately.”
Billu hesitated, unwilling to abandon his friends.
“We cannot help them from ze inside of a Pharasman gaol,” Cluedo argued, thrusting the oars into Billu’s hands, “We must run now, so that we can fight another day! Now row, damn you!”
Grudgingly, Billu complied with the Inspector’s command, propelling the boat out into the river, where their escape would be hidden by the column of rising smoke.
---
Disarmed and de-masked, his weapons confiscated and wrists shackled, Bes is escorted from his cell beneath the Grand Mausoleum to an austere interrogation chamber. Waiting to question him are Commander Shepses and Sebti the Crocodile.
“Before we begin, you should know that you are seated within a circle of truth,” the High Priestess explained wearily, “You will be magically compelled to speak the truth, so I advise against any futile attempt at deception.
“Bes of the Desert Storm, you stand accused of violating the laws of this city and consorting with a creature of necromantic origin. You stand accused of smuggling the aforementioned abomination out of the necropolis and harbouring it within the living city. How do you plead?”
Bes explains how on the first day of the lottery, the Desert Storm were trapped in a flooded room and would surely have drowned if not for the intervention of a friendly skeleton, who they had inadvertently released during their exploration of the tomb.
“That you felt indebted to this creature and honour-bound to repay its kindness does not excuse the contempt with which you flaunted the commandments of this temple.” Sebti said sternly, “Also, there is a more serious accusation that we must now address….”
“Tell us about the Daughters of the Desert.” Commander Shepses said, his voice as cold as an executioner’s smile, “Tell us about the woman you murdered and skinned.”
“Ah!” stuttered Bes, “I was present during the incident, but I didn’t help. Also, we only attacked the Daughters because they had already killed and robbed another group! We bumped into them as they were dumping the bodies.”
“And you didn’t think to report any of this when you returned to the living city?” Sebti asked.
“You know how it is,” Bes answered, “What happens in the necropolis stays in the necropolis.”
“That’s not a thing.” Commander Shepses snapped.
“What do you know about the recent surge in necromantic activity?” Sebti asked, “Is that anything to do with you, your pet skeleton or that dog-faced necroshaman?”
Bes explained how on the third day of the lottery, they had encountered a man calling himself Nebta-Khufre beneath the Sanctum of the Erudite Eye. He described the exquisite funerary mask the necromancer had claimed and the conversation between him and the cultist Ikram Effek.
“Where is this Ikram character now?” Shepses asked, “We will need him to corroborate your story.”
“Ah.” said Bes, “He jumped out of a window and broke his neck.”
“Where is the body now?”
“We filled its pockets with raw meat and threw it in the river.”
“Which bit of the river?”
“The bit with the most crocodiles.”
“You’re going back in your cell until we sort this mess out,” the commander said, “No doubt the rest of your friends will be joining you shortly. Make yourself comfortable. You won’t be leaving any time soon.”
TBC