Smoky lanterns dotted the dark streets of Cairo, making shadows dance and writhe in obscene orgiastic rites upon the walls of buildings. Spices, foodstuffs, perfumes and the abundance of humanity warred with each other in a melange of scents that threatened to overwhelm the two Malkavians as they wandered between night vendors. Women, men, young boys and any number of animal herders approached the pair as they picked their way around the many obstacles in their path. Here a camel dropping, there a corpse shrouded in flies, blood still glistening and pooled around it.
"Are you sure we're supposed to meet him in this district," asked BigJobbs suspiciously. "It doesn't seem like the area to find an archaeologist in to me."
"I'm quite certain," grimaced Handel as he fended off an overly persistent cast eyed fellow trying to hand him a scroll and muttering something like 'Cthulu a f'than'. "And I never said he was an archaeologist, I simply said that he was interested in old things and digging them up."
BigJobbs raised a supercilious eyebrow and curled his lip. "That is what an archaeologist tends to be noted for, you know." He paused, taking a rat-onna-stick from a vendor and paying him before continuing. "Wait a sec," he ruminated while munching. "Is this guy a tomb robber?"
Rubbing his nose for a moment as he pondered this question, and evading BJ's eyes Handel's face took on a faintly disgusted expression. "Ah well," he sighed. "You were going to figure it out anyway, I'm sure. He is a tomb robber, I suppose, but he tends to be after a very specific kind of treasure. The information he found was just an accident, really."
"An accident? What's he after usually, then? Two thousand year old pickled onions? I know some of the pharaohs.... Just a second sec... this guy's one of us, right? Oh." Realisation shone in BJ's eyes and he found his hand reaching automatically for the service revolver at his generous waist.
"Yep," replied Handel with a nod. "He's a professional diablerist. Don't let your prejudices get away with you, though. It doesn't necessarily make him a bad person."
Excrement splattered and the colour of the dust and sand that permeated everything here, the building looked abandoned. Doors and windows were boarded over with both wood and a sense of finality. All the same, both of the men standing outside could feel that something lurked within.
"This is the place, huh?" BigJobbs cupped his chin as he considered the best method of access. Brute force was the most obvious course, but he preferred a less expected and more artistic entry. Uncoiling his red liquorice he cast experienced eyes over the crennelations, hoping for a useful anchor point.
"Um, no actually. This is an old curry restaurant that they had to close down for some reason. The place we want is next door." Handel pointed to a similarly constructed yet far more welcoming dwelling a few more paces along the road. Up above street level flowers sprouted from pots under opened windows that let the warming sounds and light from within spill forth onto the two below.
Dusting himself off lightly and running a hand through his hair, the bearded vampire stepped up to the door and rapped sharply. From within came the noise of hurried footsteps, a number of them. In a moment the door was opened to reveal a harried looking woman surrounded by a multitude of children.
"Yes," she said, eyes still focusing against the darkness of the world outside her house. An instant later and she'd flung herself around the neck of the old pirate, much to the amused surprise of BigJobbs, while the children surrounded him, plucking at his clothes and asking what 'Uncle Handel' had for them. After brief introductions the two were ushered within and seated around a sturdy wooden table.
BigJobbs looked on with interest as Handel opened an envelope that the woman had handed to him. Another variety of fascination kept him glancing towards the busy hands of the lady of the house as she prepared a meal, having made the mistake of asking if they were hungry.
"Bugger," exclaimed Handel. He sighed and read out loud from the brief letter inside. "Running from Archons. Terribly sorry. Hieroglyphs of interest attached. Unable to help further. Please keep an eye on the wife and kids. Hope to see you this century. Have one for me. -Josephus."
Turning the fastened piece of Egyptian artwork first one way, then another Handel handed it to BigJobbs. "I can't make head or tail of it, but I'll admit that those large barrels in the drawings look mighty promising."
"Umph," replied BigJobbs manfully as he attacked the cold cuts now laid in front of him. The ancient kegs were all very well and good, but he found himself drawn to other points of note in the picture writings. Pickled onions still played heavily on his mind, but the thoughts of pigs trotters and other delicacies, locked away in the dark for all those years almost brought a tear to his eye. Hopefully the ancient Egyptians had done their job well.
"So we need a jewel beer stein to put on a barstool of a certain size in a particular room in order to find the Well of Sozzledness by watching the moonlight shoot through it on to a map of the ancient city, huh?" BigJobbs looked at the ancient fellow who had kindly translated the scroll for nothing more than a huge amount of cash.
The elderly Egyptian grinned toothlessly and nodded to the impressively sized adventurer Malk. "As you say, good sir."
Handel, whose cash it had been, glared at BigJobbs. "What the hell? Since when have you been able to read this stuff, " he asked in an annoyed tone. "Why the hell did we come here?"
"It's always good to have a second opinion," smiled BigJobbs. "And anyway, Ali here makes the best enchiladas in Cairo."
As Ali began piling foodstuffs into BigJobbs, Handel shook his head and sighed. Bloody compulsive disorders. Some people should just try getting a grip. Enchiladas in Egypt? What next? Then he saw the Tequila.
Satiated, the two doughty hunters of history wandered down the street, belching, scratching and generally being vaguely obscene. "Well, where are we gonna find that beer stein d'you reckon, BJ," asked Handel blearily as he tried to figure out which huge figure was his friend.
"For starters, you can stop looking through that," said BJ with a sigh as he took the telescope out of Handel's unsteady grasp. "I doubt if a ..." The rest of his conversation was cut short as he realised that someone had been standing next to him for some time. Handel had been wondering how he'd managed to be seeing double with one eye closed.
"Heeeeey maaaaaate!" A lunge from Handel was fended by the new arrival.
"Oh shit, he's gone all huggy again! Piss off, Handel," yelled Badger as he smacked the pirate in the face with a handy vegetable cart. A cornucopia of mixed veg' spread across the street as the wooden structure collapsed upon the old soak's head. Greenery rolled freely towards the gutters but was halted by the scrabbling hands of street children.
BigJobbs sighed and paid the now cartless salesman while the fellow was still wondering how a single foreigner had managed to lift that amount of weight so easily and why the other one appeared to be basically unharmed. He watched Handel pull himself up again and gain a measure of decorum.
"Fair enough, Badger! And well done too, that reminded me where I've seen such an item as a beer stein made out of a single diamond before! They had it in a drinking competition some years back. No one believed that it was real diamond, so it was kind of a novelty prize..." His eyes misted over with remembrance, or was that just the alcohol exuding itself from his very eyeballs?
"So where is it," Badger asked in slow, easy to understand speech.
After patting himself down a bit, Handel produced the object in question. "It's great", he said holding it up to the light and letting the markings thereon shine in the streetlight. "I always bring it to Egypt, 'cause it allows a free glass of whatever you're having along with the one you pay for at that pub I won it in."
"Really? I expect you spend a fair bit of time out here, then?"
"Well, I did, but now they seem to keep moving the pub. It's burnt down twice that I recall." He absently rubbed his eyebrows to make sure they were still there.
Hardly dazzled by his companions' repartee, BJ took the stein and read the writings upon it as Badger and Handel continued their detailed descriptions of what had befallen each of them over the years in drinking establishments. Nodding, he wondered where the nearest carpenters was and went searching for it. Thirty minutes later he returned clutching a freshly made barstool and a map of the more recent digs outside the city.
"Staked, impaled, shot and horsewhipped, I tell you," Badger was saying. "But the pony harnesses afterwards made it all worth while."
"Sorry to interrupt this, but if we hurry we can get to the map room in time for moon rise," said BigJobbs.
