Panting heavily, you sit up and clutch your chest. The last thing you remember is riding beside the Pharaoh’s chariot, galloping along at full speed. Then... A rock!
There had been a stone the size of a man’s head, half-buried beneath the desert sands. The chariot hit the stone at speed, tossing you to the unforgiving dunes. Then there was nothing.
You glance around the chamber you now find yourself in, it is a dark and foreboding place. The architecture appears to be roughly hewn sandstone, decorated with hundreds if not thousands of hieroglyphs. The room is lit by the dim light of four sconces set into the corners, it almost looks like the inside of a pyramid.
“Hello, mortal.” a voice rasps, as cold as the grave, “My condolences for your untimely demise, but I welcome you to the underworld nonetheless.”
Your eyes adjust to the dimness and you see a shape. An impossible shape like a childhood might draw, sticking together parts of different animals.
“Demise? Underworld?” you stammer, “Am I—”
“Dead?” the shape interjects, her crocodilian maw mauling the words, “I’m afraid so.”
“Then you must be...” you mumble fearfully.
“Ammit, the devourer, the soul-eater, yes, yes.” the goddess sighs as if tired from having this conversation an untold number of times before.
You move to prostrate yourself before the deity, but a snap of her reptilian jaws freezes you in place, “None of that, mortal.” she snaps.
Ammit rolls her crocodilian eyes, “Just take off your shendyt and let us get on with it.”
“My shendyt?” you stammer, looking down at the linen skirt wrapped around your waist.
The goddess rolls a leonine paw as if gesturing for you to get on with it, “Yes, yes. Strip.”
“I, I don’t understand.” you protest.
Ammit clenches her maw in annoyance, “Ugh, I must judge your worth if you are to enter the underworld. To judge your worth, I must taste your seed.” she sighs impatiently.
“Now, strip.” Ammit snaps.