Post by Witcher Wolf on May 14, 2007 12:03:49 GMT -5
Sometimes I get inspired, usually it's by a film or a TV show, perhaps a tiny fragment of an advert. In this case my inspiration came from my Scion game. Scion, what is it?
Scion is a roleplaying game from Whitewolf, you play the children (Scions) of the gods, it's epic mythology with a modern world take and it is superb imho. Professor Talibah Carter is the Scion of Bast, her sidekick is Solomon Rider, Scion of Anubis and this is just one of their earlier adventures that marks part of their backstory.
Scion is (c) Whitewolf and the various characters are copyright of their respective players/so on.
CHAPTER ONE
Under the shifting sands of the great deserts of Egypt one wouldn't have expected to find a complete retinue of armed men, women and complicated excavation equipment. Nor would one have expected to discover the secret chambers that dotted the earth beneath the legendary Sphinx.
There they were in all their glory, miles below the surface of the desert, full of soldiers and trucks, priceless artefacts and harsh spotlights that cast white beams across the dusty old rooms. Some of these rooms were massive, hundreds of feet across and they echoed dully to the sound of footsteps and barked orders.
Every cavernous room was piled with electronics and digging tools, boxes and boxes of crates marked with a familiar symbol, one that had no place in the modern world. It was made famous by some of the best films of the era and now in 2006 a fresh coat of black paint illuminated the swastika in all its sinister lines.
Highly polished jackboots clicked in a staccato rhythm as armed guards moved about the corridors. It was an incredible sight and to the two observers, one man and one woman, it proved a particular theory as they lurked in the nearby shadow of a massive box.
"I told you," Solomon Rider said, he hooked his thumb at the box with the symbol on it. "You owe me an expensive meal at a restaurant of my choice, when we get back to England that is."
He was a tall man, thin but fairly muscular. His skin had been tanned by exposure to the desert sun and he had playful deep brown eyes. His hair was short, not quite shoulders length and was a rich mahogany colour. He grinned with near pearl-white teeth as he spoke.
He met the eyes of his colleague as she rolled them in response. Professor Talibah Carter regarded Solomon as one might do an annoying younger or older sibling; she shook her head and thought about punching him just for the hell of it.
"You've got that, I'm going to kill you Solomon look," he grinned again, "in those gorgeous green eyes of yours."
Talibah was a good looking woman; she was Solomon's equal in physique just with softer lines and curves. Her body had been honed by the years she'd spent running through jungles, dodging local natives and discovering dangerous artefacts better left alone to the mists of time. She had features that betrayed both her English blood and her obvious Egyptian ties as well.
Just as Solomon wore a leather jacket and sported the finest line in ripped jeans, Talibah went for the traditional sports-style halter top and tight trousers. They both looked like they'd stepped out of a TV show or video game.
"Flatterer," she whispered and hid a smile. "It won't save you, once we're out of this, you're dead meat Rider."
"Sounds like a bad name for a film to me," Solomon quipped. "Anyway," he leant against the box. "You're the one who got us down here in the first place, you and that damn Feng Shui compass."
"It's not a Feng Shui compass," she said defensively and gave a tiny pout. "It's a gift from my mother, it helps me find things."
"Like trouble," Solomon cracked a wide grin and pointed helpfully to the Neo-Nazi guards. "Sort of there, there, and there."
"Point taken," she huffed and patted the leather case by her side. "It must want us down here; mother must want us down here."
"Several miles below the surface," Solomon groused and peered around the corner to the guards. "Surrounded by ancient history, people with guns and a group of Neo-Nazis who think that if they say the right mystical mumbo-jumbo Hitler is going to appear from the grave and lead them into a Fourth Reich?"
"I don't know, do I," Talibah rolled her eyes again and tucked herself further into the shadow. "I don't even know where we're supposed to go; the compass didn't give a detailed road map to what we're looking for."
The guards were beginning to move; they spread out in a wider pattern and illuminated certain areas of the chamber with the cold glow of their flashlights. They spoke in English even though their uniforms were classic World War Two design; one of them had the long coat and demeanour of an SS officer.
"So," Solomon longed for some kind of cigarette but when he'd met Talibah, she'd convinced him to quit smoking. She'd said to him at the time, she didn't kiss men who smelt like old ash. So he'd quit, she still hadn't kissed him yet, but he could hope. "What's the plan?"
"We get closer and see what they're up to."
"I knew you'd say that," Solomon chuckled and fished a coin out of his pocket. "You know what happened to the cat though?"
"Yes," she replied with a frown, "curiosity and all that rubbish."
Solomon flipped the coin up and over, he whispered. "Heads you go, tails I go and cause a distraction."
It came up tails and Talibah wrinkled her nose a little, she gave the man a slight wink and quipped softly. "Sorry Solomon, it looks like you get to introduce yourself to the bad guys."
Solomon gave her a pained look and dropped the coin back into his pocket. He moved from the large crate and slid across to another and then another, he worked his way from shadow to shadow until he was only a few feet from the first pair of boots.
He looked up and around the chamber, there were several statues and iconic images from the past including a large figure of a jackal headed human with the body of a Nubian man. Solomon lifted his finger to his forehead and tipped it forwards in a show of respect.
"Hey father," he whispered. "Keep an eye on me, thanks."
The statue remained impassive and ever-watchful; Solomon didn't even detect a slight motion from it. That was the way of his father, Anubis. The quiet and serene type, who liked to appear in the modern world in a number of dark business suits. He was a hit with the ladies and apparently somewhat morbid in his sense of humour.
Talibah watched her friend and worried her bottom lip a little; she wondered why the hell her mother, Bast, had sent her down here in the first place. Just as she was about to pull out the compass once more a shadow fell over her from behind.
"Up," commanded a voice, one of the other patrolling guards had decided to make a full sweep of the chamber and now pointed the barrel of his submachine gun at the woman, "Schnell!"
She stood up and Solomon heard the barked order, it caught the other guards by surprise and allowed him a moment to slip by unnoticed. He dropped down and rolled under a forklift truck where he could observe clearly.
The man in the long black coat stopped what he was doing and drew out a slim pistol. He shook his head as he approached Talibah and his face fell into a deep scowl. "I might have known," he breathed softly. "Professor Talibah Carter presumed dead in Cairo two years ago but alive and well."
"I try to outlive my own usefulness," she kicked the guard in the shins out of spite as he shoved her forwards. "Doctor Kaufman."
"I'm glad you remember me," Kaufman said and thrust his hands into his pockets; he drew out a slim cigarette and lit it. "Do you smoke?"
"No."
"Mind if I do?"
"Yes."
"Good," he smoked the cigarette into her face; it seemed to give the man some perverse pleasure to do so. He was cut from the typical Nazi cloth, even down to the short sandy blonde hair and chiselled sharp features.
Talibah coughed and looked around at the chamber. "You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't even know about this place."
"Neither should you," Kaufman inclined his head and gestured to the soldier. "Bring her; I have something that the Professor would love to see before we seal her into another tomb."
Solomon waited until they had entered another corridor and he made to follow, he checked the guards, they were busy gawking in the wrong direction. Without waiting another moment he snuck from the forklift and edged his way past one of the larger spotlight frames. His foot caught on a wire and he looked down at it with a glance of betrayal.
The metal wobbled a little and he moved just behind the larger leg. He kept his body out of sight and vanished into the connecting corridor. The guards glanced over in his direction but Solomon was already well on his way shadowing Kaufman and the Professor.
The Neo-Nazi doctor led his small group through the ancient structure and into another chamber; this one was round and had only one door. The ceiling was at least sixty feet above them and the whole room was carved with hieroglyphs of all kinds. Talibah began to pick through them translating text as she went, she kept following the doctor however.
"Magnificent structure," Kaufman observed and he laid a hand upon the surface of a stone tablet, "hidden from the eyes of man, locked away in the vaults of history for the right time and people to make use of it."
"It sounds all lovely and clichéd," Talibah snorted and stepped over to read the inscription. "Did you study the Indiana Jones films?"
Kaufman resisted the urge to strike the impudent woman for her levity; he adjusted his coat and pointed to the obvious feature at the centre of the chamber. A massive and quite beautiful sarcophagus lay there enshrined in perfect condition.
"I could simply say I have patterned my life after my great predecessors." He responded and then turned to face the Professor. "We are both descended from greatness."
"Yes," she nodded to this. "I come from a line of famous archaeologists and you from a bloodline of complete lunacy."
"It was not lunacy, it was vision," Kaufman said and waved the gun in his left hand around, "a golden opportunity for the world to unite for peace and prosperity."
"Murder and war," she said acidly. "We got there first. The British Empire controlled nearly three quarters of the planet whereas Hitler and the Nazi regime managed less than that. You were inspired by the Empire, nothing more." She couldn't help it; part of her took a perverse delight as she turned the key in Kaufman's back.
"And then you lost it over a simple cup of tea," the doctor did not bite; he simply waved his gloved hand. "Your insults are of no matter Professor. This is our destiny and we are going to take advantage of the superior weapons afforded by the modern age."
Talibah changed her tactics now, she began to try and get him to open up more. He seemed to want to play the part of a classic film villain, his stereotype and part of his madness perhaps.
"Forgive me then Herr Doctor," she placated. "I will listen."
"Good," Kaufman seemed genuinely pleased. "I knew you were a woman of science, not a schoolgirl. Playground name-calling should be left to the likes of those who do not understand what it is we do."
"Indeed," she replied and peered at the tablet before her. "May I?"
"Of course," Kaufman stepped to the side, he was confident that the lure of such a place would keep the good Professor busy and it might even sway her to their way of thinking. If not, he had his gun and she had nothing. "Be my guest."
Talibah put on a pair of glasses and sifted away some of the sand that had managed to cover part of the inscription, she began to see the words as they came together in pictorial form flowing from one idea to the next.
"This is the life-chamber of Osiris," she whispered softly. "With this sarcophagus dust may be born again, bones will live and even the tiniest drop of blood may thrive as new life."
"Fascinating isn't it?" Kaufman interrupted her translation. "Can you imagine what that means for our Order?"
Solomon had made it to the chamber and he caught the last few words, Talibah's translated text and Kaufman's fanatical comment. He knew exactly what the Neo-Nazi's were planning and he swore under his breath.
Talibah took off her glasses and tucked them away; she adjusted her pendant (the tiny cat head on a silver chain) and shook out her long dark hair. Her Egyptian blood showed through as she looked on in a mix of horror and anger.
"You would pervert the chamber to bring him back?"
"It is the chamber's use, the very reason for which it was designed." Kaufman's eyes were almost alight with the promise of old ways rekindled, new marches and the harsh tones of his master rending the air again. "It will usher in a new age of reason."
"You cannot possibly think that the Gods will allow it?" Talibah's voice rose to an almost indignant level.
The doctor blinked a little. "Gods?" he sneered and waved his arm at the walls. "They don't care."
"You'd be surprised Herr Doctor," she said with a slight smile on her lips. "Some of them do."
"Nonsense," Kaufman ushered Talibah away from the tablet. "I thought you might understand, but it is evident that your mind is only partially open."
"I try to be opened minded when it doesn't appertain to madmen and genocide." She hissed almost cat-like in reply.
"Take her to the Chamber of Tears, drop her into Isis' pool and seal the surface. I have no more to say to her." Kaufman indicated to the soldier and Talibah's eyes went wide.
"What?"
"You will see, take her away."
Talibah was seized by the guard and hauled from the room; they passed inches away from Solomon. Before he could react another group of guards came walking down towards where Kaufman was, they spoke in German and the doctor seemed pleased.
"Wonderful," he muttered. "I wish I knew what you'd just said, but I don't." He should have paid more attention in class rather than drawing pictures of jackal headed men.
He made a decision and tailed Talibah and her captor towards the Chamber of Tears and the Pool of Isis, he didn't like the sound of it one bit. It had the sound of a 'deathtrap' the kind that you used to see in the Saturday morning kids' television shows where the hero had no hope of escape. The villain would twiddle a little moustache and next week there'd be a new scene.
Real life was usually fatal in that respect. Still, his friend was a Scion of Bast and he was sure she had a few tricks up her sleeve. By the time he got to the Pool of Isis in the magnificent chamber made of pale near-white sandstone, he saw the guard looking at the surface of a large body of water captured in a square cell. Over the top of it was an iron grating that prevented the struggling woman from getting out.
He ran forwards and bowled the guard over, knocked the wind from the man's lungs and struck him squarely on the jaw with a powerful left hook. The soldier's head rocked to the side and Solomon hit him again, the fury of his temper unleashed.
"You son of a bitch," he snarled.
The guard lapsed into unconsciousness and his eyes went slightly wide, his tongue lolled out a little and the angry Scion of Anubis kicked him over onto his side. "You're lucky," Solomon spat on the man. "That I don't invoke my father's power right now you bastard."
The furious splashing subsided and Talibah dropped down into the clear water. She struggled for a while then her last breath bubbled out of her lips and her long hair was suspended in the liquid like tendrils of floating black seaweed. Solomon collapsed at the edge of the pool and he put his hand against the iron as if he could lift it.
He tensed against the metal and heaved; he heard the rock either side of the grating shift as the metal buckled. Solomon's will was far stronger than the grating and it gave way at the left hand corner. He wasted no time and dived into the freezing cold through the gap, there might still be a chance to save her.
Scion is a roleplaying game from Whitewolf, you play the children (Scions) of the gods, it's epic mythology with a modern world take and it is superb imho. Professor Talibah Carter is the Scion of Bast, her sidekick is Solomon Rider, Scion of Anubis and this is just one of their earlier adventures that marks part of their backstory.
Scion is (c) Whitewolf and the various characters are copyright of their respective players/so on.
CHAPTER ONE
Under the shifting sands of the great deserts of Egypt one wouldn't have expected to find a complete retinue of armed men, women and complicated excavation equipment. Nor would one have expected to discover the secret chambers that dotted the earth beneath the legendary Sphinx.
There they were in all their glory, miles below the surface of the desert, full of soldiers and trucks, priceless artefacts and harsh spotlights that cast white beams across the dusty old rooms. Some of these rooms were massive, hundreds of feet across and they echoed dully to the sound of footsteps and barked orders.
Every cavernous room was piled with electronics and digging tools, boxes and boxes of crates marked with a familiar symbol, one that had no place in the modern world. It was made famous by some of the best films of the era and now in 2006 a fresh coat of black paint illuminated the swastika in all its sinister lines.
Highly polished jackboots clicked in a staccato rhythm as armed guards moved about the corridors. It was an incredible sight and to the two observers, one man and one woman, it proved a particular theory as they lurked in the nearby shadow of a massive box.
"I told you," Solomon Rider said, he hooked his thumb at the box with the symbol on it. "You owe me an expensive meal at a restaurant of my choice, when we get back to England that is."
He was a tall man, thin but fairly muscular. His skin had been tanned by exposure to the desert sun and he had playful deep brown eyes. His hair was short, not quite shoulders length and was a rich mahogany colour. He grinned with near pearl-white teeth as he spoke.
He met the eyes of his colleague as she rolled them in response. Professor Talibah Carter regarded Solomon as one might do an annoying younger or older sibling; she shook her head and thought about punching him just for the hell of it.
"You've got that, I'm going to kill you Solomon look," he grinned again, "in those gorgeous green eyes of yours."
Talibah was a good looking woman; she was Solomon's equal in physique just with softer lines and curves. Her body had been honed by the years she'd spent running through jungles, dodging local natives and discovering dangerous artefacts better left alone to the mists of time. She had features that betrayed both her English blood and her obvious Egyptian ties as well.
Just as Solomon wore a leather jacket and sported the finest line in ripped jeans, Talibah went for the traditional sports-style halter top and tight trousers. They both looked like they'd stepped out of a TV show or video game.
"Flatterer," she whispered and hid a smile. "It won't save you, once we're out of this, you're dead meat Rider."
"Sounds like a bad name for a film to me," Solomon quipped. "Anyway," he leant against the box. "You're the one who got us down here in the first place, you and that damn Feng Shui compass."
"It's not a Feng Shui compass," she said defensively and gave a tiny pout. "It's a gift from my mother, it helps me find things."
"Like trouble," Solomon cracked a wide grin and pointed helpfully to the Neo-Nazi guards. "Sort of there, there, and there."
"Point taken," she huffed and patted the leather case by her side. "It must want us down here; mother must want us down here."
"Several miles below the surface," Solomon groused and peered around the corner to the guards. "Surrounded by ancient history, people with guns and a group of Neo-Nazis who think that if they say the right mystical mumbo-jumbo Hitler is going to appear from the grave and lead them into a Fourth Reich?"
"I don't know, do I," Talibah rolled her eyes again and tucked herself further into the shadow. "I don't even know where we're supposed to go; the compass didn't give a detailed road map to what we're looking for."
The guards were beginning to move; they spread out in a wider pattern and illuminated certain areas of the chamber with the cold glow of their flashlights. They spoke in English even though their uniforms were classic World War Two design; one of them had the long coat and demeanour of an SS officer.
"So," Solomon longed for some kind of cigarette but when he'd met Talibah, she'd convinced him to quit smoking. She'd said to him at the time, she didn't kiss men who smelt like old ash. So he'd quit, she still hadn't kissed him yet, but he could hope. "What's the plan?"
"We get closer and see what they're up to."
"I knew you'd say that," Solomon chuckled and fished a coin out of his pocket. "You know what happened to the cat though?"
"Yes," she replied with a frown, "curiosity and all that rubbish."
Solomon flipped the coin up and over, he whispered. "Heads you go, tails I go and cause a distraction."
It came up tails and Talibah wrinkled her nose a little, she gave the man a slight wink and quipped softly. "Sorry Solomon, it looks like you get to introduce yourself to the bad guys."
Solomon gave her a pained look and dropped the coin back into his pocket. He moved from the large crate and slid across to another and then another, he worked his way from shadow to shadow until he was only a few feet from the first pair of boots.
He looked up and around the chamber, there were several statues and iconic images from the past including a large figure of a jackal headed human with the body of a Nubian man. Solomon lifted his finger to his forehead and tipped it forwards in a show of respect.
"Hey father," he whispered. "Keep an eye on me, thanks."
The statue remained impassive and ever-watchful; Solomon didn't even detect a slight motion from it. That was the way of his father, Anubis. The quiet and serene type, who liked to appear in the modern world in a number of dark business suits. He was a hit with the ladies and apparently somewhat morbid in his sense of humour.
Talibah watched her friend and worried her bottom lip a little; she wondered why the hell her mother, Bast, had sent her down here in the first place. Just as she was about to pull out the compass once more a shadow fell over her from behind.
"Up," commanded a voice, one of the other patrolling guards had decided to make a full sweep of the chamber and now pointed the barrel of his submachine gun at the woman, "Schnell!"
She stood up and Solomon heard the barked order, it caught the other guards by surprise and allowed him a moment to slip by unnoticed. He dropped down and rolled under a forklift truck where he could observe clearly.
The man in the long black coat stopped what he was doing and drew out a slim pistol. He shook his head as he approached Talibah and his face fell into a deep scowl. "I might have known," he breathed softly. "Professor Talibah Carter presumed dead in Cairo two years ago but alive and well."
"I try to outlive my own usefulness," she kicked the guard in the shins out of spite as he shoved her forwards. "Doctor Kaufman."
"I'm glad you remember me," Kaufman said and thrust his hands into his pockets; he drew out a slim cigarette and lit it. "Do you smoke?"
"No."
"Mind if I do?"
"Yes."
"Good," he smoked the cigarette into her face; it seemed to give the man some perverse pleasure to do so. He was cut from the typical Nazi cloth, even down to the short sandy blonde hair and chiselled sharp features.
Talibah coughed and looked around at the chamber. "You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't even know about this place."
"Neither should you," Kaufman inclined his head and gestured to the soldier. "Bring her; I have something that the Professor would love to see before we seal her into another tomb."
Solomon waited until they had entered another corridor and he made to follow, he checked the guards, they were busy gawking in the wrong direction. Without waiting another moment he snuck from the forklift and edged his way past one of the larger spotlight frames. His foot caught on a wire and he looked down at it with a glance of betrayal.
The metal wobbled a little and he moved just behind the larger leg. He kept his body out of sight and vanished into the connecting corridor. The guards glanced over in his direction but Solomon was already well on his way shadowing Kaufman and the Professor.
The Neo-Nazi doctor led his small group through the ancient structure and into another chamber; this one was round and had only one door. The ceiling was at least sixty feet above them and the whole room was carved with hieroglyphs of all kinds. Talibah began to pick through them translating text as she went, she kept following the doctor however.
"Magnificent structure," Kaufman observed and he laid a hand upon the surface of a stone tablet, "hidden from the eyes of man, locked away in the vaults of history for the right time and people to make use of it."
"It sounds all lovely and clichéd," Talibah snorted and stepped over to read the inscription. "Did you study the Indiana Jones films?"
Kaufman resisted the urge to strike the impudent woman for her levity; he adjusted his coat and pointed to the obvious feature at the centre of the chamber. A massive and quite beautiful sarcophagus lay there enshrined in perfect condition.
"I could simply say I have patterned my life after my great predecessors." He responded and then turned to face the Professor. "We are both descended from greatness."
"Yes," she nodded to this. "I come from a line of famous archaeologists and you from a bloodline of complete lunacy."
"It was not lunacy, it was vision," Kaufman said and waved the gun in his left hand around, "a golden opportunity for the world to unite for peace and prosperity."
"Murder and war," she said acidly. "We got there first. The British Empire controlled nearly three quarters of the planet whereas Hitler and the Nazi regime managed less than that. You were inspired by the Empire, nothing more." She couldn't help it; part of her took a perverse delight as she turned the key in Kaufman's back.
"And then you lost it over a simple cup of tea," the doctor did not bite; he simply waved his gloved hand. "Your insults are of no matter Professor. This is our destiny and we are going to take advantage of the superior weapons afforded by the modern age."
Talibah changed her tactics now, she began to try and get him to open up more. He seemed to want to play the part of a classic film villain, his stereotype and part of his madness perhaps.
"Forgive me then Herr Doctor," she placated. "I will listen."
"Good," Kaufman seemed genuinely pleased. "I knew you were a woman of science, not a schoolgirl. Playground name-calling should be left to the likes of those who do not understand what it is we do."
"Indeed," she replied and peered at the tablet before her. "May I?"
"Of course," Kaufman stepped to the side, he was confident that the lure of such a place would keep the good Professor busy and it might even sway her to their way of thinking. If not, he had his gun and she had nothing. "Be my guest."
Talibah put on a pair of glasses and sifted away some of the sand that had managed to cover part of the inscription, she began to see the words as they came together in pictorial form flowing from one idea to the next.
"This is the life-chamber of Osiris," she whispered softly. "With this sarcophagus dust may be born again, bones will live and even the tiniest drop of blood may thrive as new life."
"Fascinating isn't it?" Kaufman interrupted her translation. "Can you imagine what that means for our Order?"
Solomon had made it to the chamber and he caught the last few words, Talibah's translated text and Kaufman's fanatical comment. He knew exactly what the Neo-Nazi's were planning and he swore under his breath.
Talibah took off her glasses and tucked them away; she adjusted her pendant (the tiny cat head on a silver chain) and shook out her long dark hair. Her Egyptian blood showed through as she looked on in a mix of horror and anger.
"You would pervert the chamber to bring him back?"
"It is the chamber's use, the very reason for which it was designed." Kaufman's eyes were almost alight with the promise of old ways rekindled, new marches and the harsh tones of his master rending the air again. "It will usher in a new age of reason."
"You cannot possibly think that the Gods will allow it?" Talibah's voice rose to an almost indignant level.
The doctor blinked a little. "Gods?" he sneered and waved his arm at the walls. "They don't care."
"You'd be surprised Herr Doctor," she said with a slight smile on her lips. "Some of them do."
"Nonsense," Kaufman ushered Talibah away from the tablet. "I thought you might understand, but it is evident that your mind is only partially open."
"I try to be opened minded when it doesn't appertain to madmen and genocide." She hissed almost cat-like in reply.
"Take her to the Chamber of Tears, drop her into Isis' pool and seal the surface. I have no more to say to her." Kaufman indicated to the soldier and Talibah's eyes went wide.
"What?"
"You will see, take her away."
Talibah was seized by the guard and hauled from the room; they passed inches away from Solomon. Before he could react another group of guards came walking down towards where Kaufman was, they spoke in German and the doctor seemed pleased.
"Wonderful," he muttered. "I wish I knew what you'd just said, but I don't." He should have paid more attention in class rather than drawing pictures of jackal headed men.
He made a decision and tailed Talibah and her captor towards the Chamber of Tears and the Pool of Isis, he didn't like the sound of it one bit. It had the sound of a 'deathtrap' the kind that you used to see in the Saturday morning kids' television shows where the hero had no hope of escape. The villain would twiddle a little moustache and next week there'd be a new scene.
Real life was usually fatal in that respect. Still, his friend was a Scion of Bast and he was sure she had a few tricks up her sleeve. By the time he got to the Pool of Isis in the magnificent chamber made of pale near-white sandstone, he saw the guard looking at the surface of a large body of water captured in a square cell. Over the top of it was an iron grating that prevented the struggling woman from getting out.
He ran forwards and bowled the guard over, knocked the wind from the man's lungs and struck him squarely on the jaw with a powerful left hook. The soldier's head rocked to the side and Solomon hit him again, the fury of his temper unleashed.
"You son of a bitch," he snarled.
The guard lapsed into unconsciousness and his eyes went slightly wide, his tongue lolled out a little and the angry Scion of Anubis kicked him over onto his side. "You're lucky," Solomon spat on the man. "That I don't invoke my father's power right now you bastard."
The furious splashing subsided and Talibah dropped down into the clear water. She struggled for a while then her last breath bubbled out of her lips and her long hair was suspended in the liquid like tendrils of floating black seaweed. Solomon collapsed at the edge of the pool and he put his hand against the iron as if he could lift it.
He tensed against the metal and heaved; he heard the rock either side of the grating shift as the metal buckled. Solomon's will was far stronger than the grating and it gave way at the left hand corner. He wasted no time and dived into the freezing cold through the gap, there might still be a chance to save her.
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