Cairo, August 189-
The sun beat down on the souk, casting deep shadows and reflecting blazing whitewash. The alleys and lanes were quiet, the stench of dozing animals weighing on the air; windows blanked against the merciless light- only a fool would venture into the burning heat: a fool, a madman, the desperate and devious.
Rumour had it that a map had come up for sale in the shop of an unwitting antiquarian and tomb robber. This map was not tourist trinket: this one, encased in a wooden and ivory case, purported to show the lost location if the Crown of Lower Egypt: a fabulous, mystical bauble said to number among the Regalia of Ra. The rumours has arisen like a whispered wind, and crossed the seas, gaining strength and credence as it was turned over among the great minds who studied ancient Ægypt.
At last, as if the whisper had fully exhaled and is again drawing breath inward, a number of adventuring companies had stepped forth to prove the rumours and claim the prize. At noon in a christian quarter of this cosmopolitan city, in the shadow of the Spanish Church, they sauntered and scuttled from where they hid…
Deploying with practiced precision, across walls and rooftops - the Queen’s Royal Regiment resplendent in pith helms and redcoats, fresh from the Sudan; Fanning out in a flurry of pressed petticoats and starched white ankle-length dresses: the Royal Naval Women’s Assault Commando. Over there: our old friend Lord Curr, alongside him Mick MacFarlane muttering, and Mohan Singh, his machine gun whirring.
Here come the redcoats:
The Women of the Senior Service deploy for battle:
Last, flapping in their red cowled cloaks, the Servants Ra: not the swivel-eyed bourgeois adherents of London’s parlours, but their grimmer, more determined cousins, raised in these very streets, spreading forth as harbinger sparrows of Akhenaton himself, lounging with intent in the background.
Akhenaton - a fox in the Henhouse
The souk offered it’s share of traps and pitfalls: a mule train to block a gate; a hissing Cobra to strike down an Incorrigible; a crashing tile to crush the pith-helmeted skull of a Redcoat; High walls and deep shadows to crack bone and tear muscle of the unwary climber.
Rifle fire cracked brick and splintered wood. A cultist rapped his head on the stones, falling from a wall. One redcoat could be heard calling out for his comrades - his voice fading as he found himself lost in the labyrinth of lanes.
The Commandos settled into a long duel with Lord Curr's men, bullets flying and the hiss of an arc-rifle cutting through the fœtid air.
Mohan was knocked down time and again but stood up each time. The redcoats leaped from rooftop to rooftop, surging forward and scouring at clues. At last, Akhenaton was glimpsed atop a building, chuckling, and, with a flash of his Kopesh, vanished into the angled streets having found the map-case. He taunted and laughed, appearing ever more distant as he faded away, following the Path of Shadows.
The God King's inscrutable plan is unveiled... 
...as he taunts and cajoles from a distant rooftop:
Even as he stole across the souk, and all desperately turned from their fights to lunge at the retreating figure, the mummified priest of Ra rose up and swiped with ragged hands, and cultists charged forward to be shot down. The God King was today triumphant, leaving loyal minions to die in his wake as he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
The Servants of Ra: loyal unto death and beyond:
*****
IHMN at Perth Miniatures Gamers Group last night, with gaming pals Dave and Ben, my son Lucas and first timer minis gamer Paige. Part one of our
A Crown for Their Majesties saga…
Welcome, Guest. Please 
April 16, 2024, 12:40:23 PM
