Carthago !

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Carthago! is a game by G.M., louisxiv just made a site for it.

From Sammus’s Boast:

185. E61 – Trapping the Shadow-Spirit

Late in the day on 3rd May, Mago and a guide went ahead to warn Boujje about the curse. Boujje told us to camp outside in the canton, in the same place as we had left our animals before, and he would come and hear our story. Mago returned to let us know and we entered the canton, and Hannibal and the other guides greeted us. When Boujje arrived in the evening, Si’Aspiqo told him that we had managed to find a way in, between the paws of the sphinx, and had explored and found it to be a burial place of an Egyptian Priestess of Amun. He then told Boujje of the mummy that we defeated and explained that we had investigated the sarcophagus and took the possessions we found therein. It had soon become apparent that we were cursed, he continued. He explained that we were being followed by some sort of spirit, maybe the personification of the curse or a shadow of the priestess and that he and I had coughs. We showed him the loot, and his eyes gleamed.

These are ancient things he told us. Si'aspiqo told him that the inscription on the stone entrance mentioned the name of a pharaoh which matched that on the great sphinx in the north kingdom. Boujje said this was the strongest proof he had seen that the Egyptians had come this far west. Any debt to me was discharged, he told us, and he promised to advise us as best he could regarding the curse. He let us know that he had bottled the liquid from our amphorae successfully; he had 69 bottles of healing potions and 82 bottles of sleeping draft, giving 46 bottles of healing and 55 bottles of sleeping drafts as our share.

He outlined some options to deal with the curse: we could summon the spirit of the priestess and attempt to make peace; we could summon the haunting shadow and trap it in a small, symbolic maze — if trapped moving endlessly round the maze, he was not sure how long it would hold; Boujje could try to counter the curse with charms of health and tattoos to bind them. He told us he would only charge for his services if he were successful. He left us to rest and consider the options, and to divide the loot into two piles.

The priestess’s dagger seemed sharp and well-balanced to me and as a weapon was broadly similar in value to my shortsword. Si’Aspiqo and Agripinus set up wards against evil and we set watches for the night. I was on first watch and felt very tired. It was very quiet, and I realized I was no longer anywhere I recognized, and the stars were unfamiliar. I must have wandered off into the desert. I heard a voice and realizing it was probably the spirit, I put rags in my ears and stood still. I tried to get back to myself and suddenly found myself in a heap at the edge of the stone wall of the canton. I returned to the camp. No-one else was disturbed.

Si’Aspiqo spent some time trying to understand the three arcane items. The dagger was quite interesting, he told us. It was very old and something that old, made of iron, would be in itself magical, as it dated from weapons were made of bronze. There was something cold about it, and as well as being sharp, the magician thought he might be able to wield it in his dream. He guessed it was a ritual weapon. The necklace was a thing of beauty, he added, and he suspected it augmented the wearer’s beauty.

Soon after sunset Boujje returned to our camp. Si’Aspiqo told him that he was still unsure of one item. He added that concerning the haunting, we were inclined to ask his assistance to trap the spirit, while we reached somewhere where we could make further arrangements. Boujje explained that to do such a thing, we must first build the small tomb ourselves; he had supplies in the desert for this close by. He would then prepare the shaptis to be laid in the tomb. We should each spend a drop of blood to be put on the shaptis in the maze. He would then summon the spirit to the tomb. If this were successful, we would owe him one artifact of arcane power. It would take at least a day to prepare the tomb, if we worked on it together. We agreed that this should come from party loot.

Si’Aspiqo and Agripinus set up wards against evil and although Amphius nearly stepped out of the circle, he realized just in time, and no-one was haunted that night. Agripinus had to recover his mana at dawn, but when he carried out his ceremony, he was able to heal Si’Aspiqo and I. My cough felt much better. After an early breakfast, we set out to prepare a maze. It was a hot day, and we needed to drink more than normal, but under Mago’s guidance we managed to construct a serviceable maze. Late in the afternoon, Boujje arrived and inspected it. He was pleased with our work and got out a pot. We all squeezed a drop of blood into it, and he added powder from various phials and placed some of the mixture onto each of the shaptis. He then placed the shaptis in the maze. He ordered us to complete the roof apart from one final piece, leaving a hole through which the spirit could be lured. Mago again supervised and the roof was completed safely apart from the final piece. Boujje carried out a ceremony, which Si’Aspiqo understood enough of to know it was to summon the spirit of the dead.

Night fell and it felt very cold. With a wave of his hand Boujje dropped the final piece into place. “It is done”, he told us. Toxoanassa told us that she had seen the spirit come from the desert, just as night fell, and disappear into the hole. We walked back a few hundred yards to the encampment.

Boujje asked if we had decided how to make the piles, and when we told him that we hadn’t he told us we could do so tomorrow. We had a warm and peaceful night; no-one was haunted. By morning Si’Aspiqo still had found no more about the scarab and we agreed to divide the loot into two piles anyway. One pile had the dagger, two gold bangles, and the gold bracelet with anthropomorphic designs, while the other had the other two arcane items, two more bangles and the damaged blue bracelet from the mummy. Once Boujje had inspected the piles, he decided to take the one with the scarab and necklace. We offered him the khopesh we had found under the red dune. He agreed that it was ancient and had power and was a fair price.

I paid Boujje one of the bottles of potion for a tattoo of health and vigour, as did Mago. These would be activated by a prayer to Baal each dawn. I was told to prick my thumb and rub my blood over the tattoo at dawn and then speak words I had been given. Amphius paid twelve bottles for the necklace of beauty. In the morning, I triggered my tattoo; I was not coughing. Whether this was due to Boujje’s ceremony, the lingering effects of Agripinus’s healing or the tattoo I was unsure. But I will give thanks to Baal, nonetheless.

184. Back to Boujje

Si'aspiqo’s wheeze:

Night of 27th April

As we walked across the desert towards the water hole of Tilaf — or in my case rode with Toxoanassa’s guiding hand to stop me coughing myself off the pony’s back — Amphius had been talking to us, suggesting we return to the Sphinx to clear up properly, take one or two steps perhaps overlooked in our rush to be away from the scene of our grave-robbing triumph. He particularly wanted to go back for the coffin lid and to fill in the excavated sand to cover the entrance to the tomb.

Initially BaalShaq was prepared to accommodate the suggestion of his blood-brother, but our Kel Ajjer guides were aghast when he put it to them on Amphius’ behalf, for they reckoned the place would be cursed and haunted after the despoiling of the tomb.

I was not against it at first, until I heard the guides’ opinion, but more concerned with checking the items we had recovered than going back for a few sparkly stones and broken ivory trim from the sarcophagus lid.

Agripinus was absolutely against a party return to the sphinx/tomb. His concern was that the reputation of the party as a respectful and responsible group to work with would be at grave risk if we ignored the strong advice of our friends the guides. He would push on back to Boujje with the party. He’d not stop Ampius from following his suggested path as an individual, but the formal party should follow the advice of the local people we’ve hired to advise us to show them respect.

Toxoanassa was unhappy with tomb-robbing now she’d tried it. It was not something she or the party as a group had undertaken before and she found she really did not care for the wrecking of a coffin and despoiling a buried person of their grave goods.

Mago hadn’t taken part with the actual corpse-robbing and saw no advantage to returning to the site. Sammus looked somewhat distant and took little part in the conversation, perhaps preoccupied with the unusual sensations of being ill through sickness rather than honourable battle wounds.

Agripinus praised Amphius for making his suggestion and initiating a discussion, but didn’t consider a return to be a good idea for the party as a whole. Anyone who agreed with Amphius was free to return with him though, while the main party and the guides proceed on their way back to Fort Boujje.

BaalShaq pleaded with his blood-brother. Any trip or sprain or mis-navigation there or back, or change in the weather like a passing sand-storm… Any of these would likely mean he would never be seen again. The desert was deadly to people on their own and to those not life-long familiar with its ways. Unless he was very, very lucky his only chance of success would be to offer a great reward to the guides and perhaps, perhaps one would agree to accompany him to the Sphinx and then back to rejoin the rest of us and make it to Fort Boujje.

Amphius was still supremely self-confident, as usual, and not for turning. He considered a solo run across the desert. The sphinx-tomb was only a five hour march behind us, but on his own he reckoned he could cover the distance in half the time. The cold facts of logistics turned out to be the decisive argument. Amphius on his own might be able to complete a return run to the Sphinx in what was left of the night, but on reckoning the water-load he’d need for the journey, the stay to find and strip the coffin-lid of valuable components and work for hours moving sand to fill in the excavation of the front of the sphinx, then return to join us in the main party, while we receded from the Sphinx — all accounting made these quite impractical in water weight alone without considering adding margins for error or misfortune…

Eventually we all pressed on together through the night and away from the Sphinx. The journey left some of us exhausted — by the coughing if not the travel — while Amphius made a point of running circles around us all, muttering something like “… night running in the desert? No problem, see!”

During another break, just before dawn, Agripinus called on Tanit to heal the coughs afflicting Sammus and myself, but it persisted in both of us. He also summoned water from the sands in Her name, but this too was not as successful as he hoped. It was enough to be going on with, but left no margin…

Dawn of 28 April — warm, sandy wind from the south.

Rather than rest up for the daytime we decided to press on to Tilaf and a sure source of water, travelling in the morning before the full heat of the day. I was a bit wobbly atop the pony, but braced by Toxoanassa. Amphius tripped, twisted his ankle and was reduced to a hobble, even after Mago manipulated the joint back into line. Nonetheless we reached Tilaf shortly before mid-day, traded for water and made camp in what shade we could find. We planned to rest and recuperate for what was left of the day and into the night. Agripinus particularly wanted to commune with his goddess about Sammus’ and my grave-cough, resistant as it was to his work-a-day healing invocation blessings.

Dusk of 28 April

In the coolth of the early evening Agripinus communed with Tanit on the treatment necessary for the cough. The news wasn’t ideal. Tanit confirmed that we were cursed, with the cough as a symptom, and that while Agripinus could manage it to some extent, a full cure would require a ceremony at a formal Shrine of Tanit. The closest we know of is at Sef, set up by Agripinus for a previous spiritual Cleansing of Sammus of the witch’s curse in the affair of the Black Lion. Only a few hundred miles away across the desert and we were starting by going the other way…

(Something Agripinus could cure was confident desert-runner Hopalong Amphius’s ankle, so he did.)

Morning 29 April — Sandstorm

While we rested overnight the wind rose into a sandstorm by morning so we were not going anywhere. BaalShaq emphasised to Amphius that this was why travelling in the desert alone and unguided was only for fools and the desperate. There would be no tracks to follow after the storm, even if the lone traveller carried enough water to last out the storm duration. Amphius acknowledged this wisdom.

Dusk 29 April — Sandstorm

Dusk came early in the cloud of sand. Agrippinus continued with the palliative prayers to keep the effects of the curse at bay from Sammus and myself, for which we were grateful.

Dawn 30 April — Cloudy, relatively cool.

Rather than sand everywhere above, below and all about, there were clouds in the sky by dawn and a relatively cool wind from the north bore hints of the scent of green growth and moisture, though rain felt a long way off still. The clouds encouraged us to take to the trail by day rather than wait further for the night. An uneventful day as we went south.

Dusk 30 April — weather unchanged.

The first watch of the night was Sammus and Toxoanassa, but she woke us with talk of what sounded like a prophetic dream, or nightmare. Unexpectedly, she’d dozed off on watch, and found herself in a bare desert place, approached by a wailing figure, likely a woman from its speech, but whose words and wails Toxoanassa could not understand. No one seemed in any doubt this was some manifestation of the tomb-curse…

I carefully marked out protective warding circle for ourselves and the guides, but slept poorly myself from the cough. The later watch, outside the circle, reported passing chills in the night, a sure sign of presence of spirits and likely, I thought, the activity of the curse.vOur guides however reported themselves untroubled overnight, no dreams, no chills, as they made to break camp and continue our journey south.

Dawn 1 May — a still and overcast day, ominously quiet…

In a small stroke of good fortune for us, but not for a gazelle, Amphius spotted some tracks which the usual hunting team pursued and brought back fresh meat.

Dusk 1 May — overcast, still, windless night and a new moon. Complete darkness for all (apart from Amphius).

There was in fact a little light from the campfire, but more to indicate location rather than illuminate at any distance. I made a protective circle to protect against supernatural malevolence overnight again. Toxoanassa, outside the protection for a watch turn, made the acquaintance of a snake in the night, and stamped blindly at a hissing at her feet, but tripped and was fanged in the arm as she lay in the sand. She drove the reptile off but an increasing ache in her arm and gradual draining of her vitality required her to wake the sleeping priest for his attention to a envenomed wound. He washed the bite with blessed water and made prayer to cure this small but serious wound and its consequences. While this was going on Amphius took petty vengeance on the snake, finding its track to a nearby rocky outcrop and a likely nest hole which he blocked with a stone kicked into place.

I dreamed, uneasy, of dark desert, winds and distant lamentation. In the distance a figure, a female voice wailing… but I was woken by the stinging sand of an oncoming sandstorm, even as the watch started waking us to move to a slightly more sheltered position on, of course, the snake’s rocky outcrop.

Dawn 2 May — Sandstorm

The sand lasted most of the day, even with a brief flurry of rain to turn encrusting sand and dust into gritty mud to which more dry sand stuck. We huddled down and endured until the ferocity of the storm died down, somewhat, in the pre-sunset. Agripinus successfully called Tanit to provide us with clean water for the animals.

Dusk 2 May

The guides told us we were only a day away from Boujje’s fort, but the storm was still strong enough to make travel unwise in the night. Instead there were alarms in the night from the slithering of snakes making their way from the crevices of the snake hill to go a-hunting in the desert.

And I dreamed. A little before dawn, from the light in the east, I woke into a dry dusty wind and a keening figure a ways off in the desert, again. Now I had time to leave the safety of the camp and investigate. The figure bewailed the loss of their possessions — in an old form of Egyptian and they had a female tone. She, then, is lost and appealed for help. She could offer nothing in return, she cried, because she had been robbed of everything, even sight in this desert. She asked for help to find her possessions: her necklace, her dagger and her coffin… She had been evicted from her very grave and forced to wander this wilderness, alone and unsighted. She sought to find those responsible…

This was clearly a dead spirit. There is no breath of life left, just cold, restless death. I told the spirit I would argue her case, but it asked where shall I argue, before which pharoah, and I answered that I would ask my companions to assist her. But she saw through my shading of the truth around this and attacked me, forcing me to defend myself with spells and retreat with curses ringing in my ears, naming me as a tomb robber, dooming me to the unrest she suffers and to pursuit as a robber… and I woke with a cry into the physical world of the third watch.

Dawn 3rd May

In the pre-dawn Agrippinus tried to keep the coughs under control, but Tanit was not hearing his pleas in my case. However the storm being abated we set forth urgently now, despite the heat of the day, and reached Regane by late afternoon and were within sight of Fort Boujje a little before dusk.

A Timeline

1. On Calendars

I set as the era the year of the accession of the Pharaoh Ptolemy II, son of Ptolemy, so we begin in the year 18 of that reign, and I use a simplified system of twelve months with no regard for the multiple systems of intercalary days, weeks, months or moons of our own various cultures nor those we have passed through. I shall use the month names used by the main story-teller, a Gaul, Sammus the Strong, but number them to disambiguate their order.

–Si'aspiqo

2. The Tale of Months