Even more than his writing or game design, Gary Gygax is known for his imagination. The number of his unique creations—monsters and gods, spells and artifacts—that have entered the collective consciousness is truly mind-boggling. Yet like all great artists, Gary's inventions didn't spring full-formed from nothing, but rather were rooted in part in his deep love of history. For in order to create new mythology, you have to understand the existing ones.
This desire to explore and create variations of differing real-world belief systems is undoubtedly part of what led him to write Death in Delhi. While the previous Setne Inhetep books—The Anubis Murders and The Samarkand Solution—had allowed him to do great work imagining alternate versions of the ancient Egyptian pantheon, Gygax was always looking for new ground. And he found it—a whole subcontinent of it, in fact—with Death in Delhi.
One of the more interesting points of Indian history, and which plays an important role in the novel, is the concept of Thugee. While historians continue to clash on the extent of the practice, and what role the British played in expanding and disseminating the stories, the Thugs of India were part of a tribal system of organized crime centered around the worship of Kali, Goddess of Destruction. Descending in wild charges or carefully infiltrating parties over a period of weeks, gangs of Thugs would attack caravans traveling long distances and slaughter every man, woman, and child, strangling them with yellow handkerchiefs. The spoils would then go to the Thugs, who would carefully bury the bodies and remove any trace of evidence, making it seem that the caravan simply disappeared. It's from this tradition of mass slaughter and robbery, which some have estimated cost millions of lives over a period of centuries, that we get the modern English term "thug."
Of course, if there's something that sinister in our India's past, then you know Magister Setne Inhetep and his bodyguard Rachelle are bound to encounter it in Gygax's own Lands of the Peacock Throne.
For more information on Thugee, check out what Wikipedia has to say, or pick up a copy of Death in Delhi and go straight for Gary's own take on it.
Because the only thing stranger than fantasy is history.
The holidays are swiftly approaching, which means it's crunch time around the Paizo offices as we race to get a bunch of awesome new products out the door before all of us take time off to spend with our loved ones (parents, spouses, Fallout 3).
The upside? We've got some quality books coming out just in time for the gift-giving occasion of your choice! It's especially true of Planet Stories—in addition to Henry Kuttner's The Dark World and Leigh Brackett's masterful Hounds of Skaith, December will see the release of Gary Gygax's Death in Delhi, the final of the three standalone novels featuring Setne Inhetep, magical magistrate in the service of Pharaoh himself. This time, Setne takes us east on an adventure through the heart of an ancient India analogue filled with castes, corruption, and bloodthirsty gods. We'll talk more about Delhi in weeks to come, but for now, check out this scene snippet from Setne and Rachelle's treacherous journey to the lands of the Peacock Throne:
When it occurred, though, the attack didn't come in a creeping manner. It was heralded by a wailing cry which froze the blood of any victim not asleep. There was a silent rush of menacing figures. It was impossible in the confusion of moonlight and shadow to tell how many thugs were there. More than half a hundred, perhaps twice that number, and one at least was capable of using potent heka. Whatever casting he sent at them, both Inhetep and Rachelle were suddenly themselves again. That is, their Hindi disguises were gone, and for the few heartbeats' time the change required, neither could do aught but stand dazed, feeling the effects of the transformation.
"Thugs!" he managed to should to Rachelle. "Stranglers of Kali!"
There was no free passage for the attackers, however. In a mere matter of heartbeats after the time the practitioner among the crazed strangers activated his casting, Magister Inhetep had triggered one of his own dweomers. There appeared a sudden smoke arc as a hundred separate sparks winked into being. For a second these motes glowed, in the next they brightened into a multi-hued array of blossoming fires, and but a second after that each began its dance.
A flight of them whizzed high in angry amber lines, making sounds as hornets do. Others fluttered like butterflies with wings of flame. There were a dozen bright blue serpentine paths traced along the ground, and violet arcs as if grasshoppers were alight and on the move. Bright green embers jumped toward the onrushing attackers as might insane frogs bent on meeting the assailants in midair. Some spiraled aloft to spin and spit scintillating jets, which whirled crazily as their erratic flight carried them outward from the wizard-priest who had invoked them, while silvery and golden balls bounced and rolled forth in a determined fashion. Then, finally, all hell broke loose...
New Blog Entries
