In the waning centuries of the Egyptian New Kingdom a clandestine sect of necromancers sought to divine valuable secrets about the world of the living by interrogating the spirits of the dead.  From their hidden chambers in the necropolis of Giza these necromancers plied their trade for more than a century before they were discovered and exterminated, their methods only surviving in those texts overlooked in the purge.

Following are the methods by which the necromancers of Giza called forth the dead, and the nature of the knowledge they obtained.

The necromancers chose a suitable corpse, typically of a priest or noble expected to have valuable knowledge, and spirited it from its tomb with its organs in their jars.  The corpse could not be rotten, incomplete, or contaminated with insects and scavengers, or the process would meet with gruesome failure.

The corpse was cut into pieces and each piece immersed in a cistern filled with a special preparation of acids and alchemical concoctions.  After many days and nights the potion evaporated, leaving behind a waxy gray powder, enough to sit heaped in one’s two cupped hands.  This powder is the quintessence of the dead man’s corpse.  With it, and with the raw materials from several dogs rendered into paste while still alive, the necromancers reconstituted his body.

With the body in hand the necromancers then set to coaxing his shade from the land of the dead and forcing it back into its house.  Magical spells threatened the dead man’s living ancestors if he disobeyed the necromancers, and the body was branded and lacerated with hot irons to draw his attention back to it.

Once the man had been resurrected the necromancers could commence with their interrogations.  Extracting secrets from the dead man was rarely quick or easy.  The shade was frequently deranged from his long sojourns in the outer realms and had to be restrained, lest he attack his captors or dash his brains out against the walls of his cell. He would often wail incoherently or speak curses against those around him, but with further torture and magical threats he could be forced to divulge his secrets.  The necromancers sought the locations of treasure hoards and tombs, the contents of proscribed books, secrets for use in blackmail, and other lucrative tidbits.  The necromancers did not practice their art for study or spiritual purposes, but to enrich themselves with worldly treasures and knowledge.

While almost all the necromancers’ subjects were violent and hostile, most dangerous were those who retained a semblance of their humanity and could speak at length on their experiences beyond the mortal veil.  Young acolytes, so often curious, were forbidden from interrogating the corpses on these matters, for the secrets of the lands of the dead are harmful to one’s mental and spiritual health.

A lucid corpse, when pressed, describes a kingdom fallen into decay.  Grand ruins of once-white stone succumb to the eons and defaced statues stand without heads or hands.  The sky is choked with swarming insects who land only to pick at what gristle remains on titanic bones, or to die in starvation and litter the desert land.  This land is inhabited by winged beings, who blaspheme the gods of Egypt and laugh at the plight of the shades.  They take the shades beneath the earth with rituals that mock the procession of the Egyptian dead.

Beneath this dead kingdom the depths are honeycombed with chambers hewn from the bedrock.  The shade is taken to his chamber and an elaborate regimen of punishment is meted out, each one carefully devised and unique to the shade subjected to it.  The patience and creativity of the winged beings is limitless, and their tortures are eternally fresh and terrible.  In this chamber the shade remains in agony until he is pulled back into the world of living by the necromancers.

When the necromancers have the knowledge they desire, or when nothing more of use can be extracted, the resurrected corpse is killed with a blow to the head and the body fed to crocodiles, his spirit released to return to obscure torments, in that dark niche carved out for him a thousand centuries before he was born.