One of the many vagaries of the modern world is the fluctuation of belief, and perhaps more importantly, the slow dying out of many forms of worship which had for so many years sustained all sorts of deities and folk heroes. It came to be that Anubis — he who is set upon his mountain, he who belongs to the mummy wrappings, jackal ruler of the bows, he who counts hearts — patted his bored companion Ammit on the head and said to her, "I've been thinking…"

After countless years together, the fading of their religion compelled Anpu (for that is one of Anubis' many names) to absorb the Devourer (for that is what Ammit is) for safekeeping — as the Egyptian gods waned in power and influence, they were being forgotten, driven crazy, and disappearing. The underworld simply isn't what it used to be. And neither is Anubis.

Now they share a body, though Ammit has traded her crocodile head, leopard abdomen, and hippo hindquarters for that of a male jackal. When he ventures out, Anpu often takes on the guise of undertaker or shiftless wanderer, selling cheap, oddly compelling trinkets, and telling fortunes. Ammit roams as a jackal, eating anything that doesn't run away fast enough, and soliciting pettings from hapless Nexusgoers.

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