Fiore Forvedge lies prone on the floor of a large kitchen. Several people trapped in ice surround her; she makes sure not to touch them, even if she knows it is safe to do so without great force. She crawls slowly, hoping to avoid even the slightest sound. A more cynical part of herself points out the circumstances are almost nostalgic, reduced to a situation in which she cannot walk on her own two feet.
She hears the distant rumbling. She did witness the emergence of the absurd flying saucer, which promptly urged her to abandon the machinegun emplacement and find cover indoors. She witnessed its destructive power upon the church building through a window. When the humming ice cone-shaped drones began to roam the streets, she grew wary and prayed the others would not dare the streets in these circumstances.
And then she saw the thing that drove her to hide deep inside the hotel building, away from any window.
Because there is something else out there.
Something other than the flying saucer and the drones.
Fiore Forvedge saw the soldiers finally emerging from the frozen forest at the base of the hill. She saw the thing that came out of the cave tear the soldiers apart.
It was blurry to her eyes, as if its very existence rejected human perception. However, through the grey blur she caught glimpses of fur and curved horns, not unlike the traditional Baphomet. She recognized a demon, a being of human desires and fears made manifest. And she saw the thing look up straight at her, as if perfectly aware of her concealed presence despite the distance and the wall separating them.
Thus, she hides. She knows she does not have the means to fight such a thing. She wishes to leave the building, perhaps to look for the others, perhaps to return to the Drake residence and check on her patient. However, she fears being gunned down by the Nazi saucer the moment she shows herself. So, she can only lay low, in utmost silence, hoping for the best while fearing for the worst.
*** ***
Atkinson Promenade 144, Valparaíso Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F)
“I have to go!”
“Don’t be reckless!”
Across the Promenade from where Fiore currently hides in desperation, Oliver Drake and Marco Ahrens struggle for physical dominance. It is a closer contest than the Nazi hunter expected.
“You can’t just go out there! You’d be dead in an instant!”
“Well I can’t just stay here and wait until he does to my house what he did to that church! That girl Maria is there—”
“Down!”
The two men promptly fall prone and (hopefully) out of sight of the Feuerball drone’s cameras. The flying device, about as tall an average man, hovers along Beethoven Street towards the ruins of the Lutheran church. Further uphill, Rider’s flying saucer rains lightning death in its wake.
“What the hell is he firing at…?”
“No idea, but this could be our chance; it’s flying away.” Marco turns to the other man, his face firm and stern. “I want to move out of here too, but we have to do this carefully.”
Marco plants his hands firmly on the other man’s shoulders, both to reassure and to stop him from running on him.
“Trust me on this; I can get you to your home without being noticed.”
Oliver grinds his teeth for a second or two—or rather, Marco notices, he rolls an inexistent cigarette along the length of his lips, from a corner to the other. It might be a form of self-conditioning, for it allows the jeweler to calm down at least a little.
“…right. I’ll follow you.”
Marco glances down at the other man’s taut muscles, ready to take off on a dash any second now. The cannon-type mystic code is long forgotten. In any case, they have no hope of doing anything with such a heavy object without being noticed. Eventually, they scurry out of the house together, dashing across the street to put the flying saucer out of their sight and hopefully themselves out of Rider’s.
“As long as the Haunebu stays away, the only problem are the Feuerballe,” states Marco. He kicks open every front door on the way that is not already open, and Oliver figures out why the moment a drone floats around the corner. “I guess we won’t make it without shooting down at least one of those.”
“You really know what those things are,” said Oliver in an unspoken question. They lay low until the drone makes its circuit and leaves the street again.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Marco admits. “The Nazi efforts to tap into the occult were many.”
Oliver releases some sort of annoyed grunt.
“Now you’re going to tell me Hitler had the Spear of Destiny or whatever.”
“No, the spear Hitler claimed in the Anschluss was the one Karl der Grosse took from the Germanic Lombards, which has one of the nails of the True Cross inserted in its base.”
“…” Oliver Drake has the face of one who was not expecting a serious, detailed answer to his ridiculous question. Much to his chagrin, Marco Ahrens is not quite done.
“The pole of the Spear of Destiny is hidden inside the papal ferula. The spear tip is normally hidden beneath the dome at St. Peter’s, but it can be used by the Holy Church under special circumstances.”
More important than the words themselves is perhaps why Marco is saying them. It is completely superfluous and useless information in the current circumstances, yet the mysterious man is going through the effort. Oliver is not dumb; he can tell the other man is trying to distract him from his aching worry for his convalescent wife. It is strange to think of a kindhearted bounty hunter, though.
“Now, let’s move—wait!”
All plans to continue their stealthy approach to the Drake residence come to halt as speakers installed in the drones floating all over the place release Rider’s voice for all to hear.
*** ***
Cementerio No. 1, Pantheon Hill, Valparaíso Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F)
“Damn, you’re a lifesaver. Wait, could it be, you’re actually a really nice person?”
“Shut. The FucK. UP. And STay DowN.”
Maria Westinghouse’s salvation has come in the form of a walking dead. Following it silently and carefully, Maria has successfully avoided the speedy Haunebu and the roaming Feuerballe, all the way to the familiar scenery of a ravaged cemetery. It has already been well over twenty-four hours since she met the Herald of Fimbulwinter in this place.
Spoiler:
“Live.”
Maria grips her sword a little bit tighter.
“I CaN oNly SHow You THe Way DowN. THeN You’Re oN YouR owN.”
“Hmm? Ah, sure, no prob.”
Being scrutinized by the frozen rictus of a walking corpse makes for a rather unnerving experience. Maria ignores the inquisitive (!?) gaze of the undead—or rather, the woman controlling it and seeing through its dead eyes—and daringly peeks out of the mound of rubble (the remnants of a fallen mausoleum) behind which they hide. Rider’s Noble Phantasm roams the skies without a clear route, clearly hoping for the slightest glimpse of the target he’s lost.
“By the way, Assassin, this zombie of yours almost gave me a heart attack. Your familiars also have Presence Concealment, right?”
“ONly aT RanK A.”
“‘Only’ at rank A, she says,” murmurs the blonde with a tinge of amusement. “So you’re what, EX?”
“A-pluS-pluS. I will noT be PerCeiVeD uNleSS I wiSH to.”
“Well aren’t you cool.”
Wise up! (Assassin)
Presence Concealment – A++
The capacity to hide one's presence as a Servant. It is possible to disappear completely and become almost impossible to be detected, even against a Servant's perception.
As the embodiment of all worldly imperfections, Assassin is an existence that is almost one with the World. Furthermore, she rarely needs to attack in person. Most of the time, she is perceivable only when she wishes to be. The moment she shifts to the offensive, however, her presence becomes completely noticeable to other Servants as the fundamental evil she embodies. In other words, while her stealth is virtually flawless, as long as she carries the intent to do harm, she cannot use it.
“That’s some really nasty stealth. But, yeah, I don’t think I’d be very compatible with any Assassin. Not my groove if you get me.”
“ONly THe liKeS oF Me WoulD be comPaTiBle wiTH thiS FiLTHy thiNg.”
The zombie’s harsh and very telling words promptly slay all attempts at lightheartedness. It would be enough to push a lesser being to remain obediently quiet.
Not Maria Westinghouse.
“Hmm. So, you ever gonna tell me ‘bout your past with Javier?”
Truly, this girl is incapable of not getting in Liria Colhuán’s wrong side. It is a small fortune that the rigid muscles of the zombie’s face sare incapable to mirroring their master’s own. Its dead stare is unnerving enough, though.
Girl and zombie hunch and huddle close together when the flying saucer zips past them one more time. There is no subsequent attack, so they can be confident they remain unseen.
“DroneS. We haFta moVe.”
“Right after ya.”
They would be trivial to destroy, but that would also pinpoint their position. Therefore, Maria placidly follows the subterfuge specialist, and together they roam the ruins of the graveyard and avoid the patrolling drones towards an access point to the underground tunnels—or so Maria hopes.
Well, at least that was the plan. It changes when all those aforementioned drones come to a halt and start blaring Rider’s hostile voice in its rich German accent.
“You refuse to come out, Saber!?”
Clearly, the airborne Servant is running out of patience.
“If I had come out you’d already be dead, asshole,” Maria murmurs darkly. The zombie does not comment. “Be glad I haven’t found Javier yet.”
“Very well. Allow me to teach you, then: my Fourth Reich will not tolerate dissidence nor rebellion.”
“What’s his deal now…?” Maria quickly grows silent as she sees the saucer drop its dizzying speed and trudge westward almost parsimoniously.
“…fuCK.”
That single word inexplicably fills Maria’s chest with an ominous chill.
“What…what’s going on, Assassin?”
“You, Saber, are the foremost obstacle to the realization of our ideal world. But those who stretch out their hands to aid you are no less guilty.”
Even Maria Westinghouse can get it by this point.
“Oh, no. No, nope, no, wait, no-no-no-nononono—”
The desperate scream of one Oliver Drake would resound throughout the frozen hills, were it not being completely smothered by the merciless barrage of lightning that obliterates the building he calls home.
*** ***
Secondary Passage C-7c Day 03 Evening Phase – 08 Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F; external temperature)
“Well, here we are,” Senta declares, presenting the narrower passage to the two young men. “Because apparently you strapping young mages think charging boldly forward into Servant Caster’s goddamn workshop is a great idea!”
“We…cannot ignore the possibility that Caster has taken Sakura.”
Nomikata nods his agreement. Senta still does not look convinced, but merely sighs as she is outvoted—not that this is a democracy in the first place.
“Hmm…I don’t really know Caster that well, but that doesn’t seem like her style. Ah well, if we die, we die.”
I never thought someone could say such words so optimistically! Homunculi are amazing! In all the wrong ways!
“Speak for yourself, girl.”
Nomikata’s so cool! But please don’t look like we’re about to face the firing squad!
“So, what do you know about Caster, Senta?” I ask as we set foot into the narrower (and darker) tunnel, because it doesn’t hurt to know, right?
“Hmm…” The girl twists the corner of her mouth in a rather childish manner. She pokes her chin once, then two more times. “I’ve only been around for three years, but I know Caster’s been regularly summoned throughout the decades. Don’t ask me how our master can summon the same Servant at will over and over, no idea. Caster seems to be completely loyal to the master every single time, too. I can only guess they knew each other in life or something.”
Makes sense. Nomikata remains attentive but silent, probably examining every single word.
“Why summon Caster over and over, though?” finally posits the British man. “She is obviously necessary, so why not just keep her around? If you have a Grail, that shouldn’t be an issue.”
Senta can only shrug.
“Don’t ask me. But she is indeed important; I was told building all this infrastructure was only possible thanks to her Noble Phantasm, whatever it is. Moreover, she is apparently the reason we also have Rider and Berserker.”
“Wait, what do you mean?”
“Yes, I was wondering about that,” interjects Nomikata. “Rider and Berserker are Nazis, right? That means they are figures from the middle of the last century; that’s way too recent. It is hard to believe they could be in the Throne.”
Huh? Is that how it works? Servants are complicated.
“Yeah, but Caster somehow made it possible. I’m as curious as you are, but the master and Berserker always kept Caster separated from everybody else, and we sisters were not allowed to come here.”
“That doesn’t seem to be stopping you now,” muses Nomikata, and the girl responds with her villainous smirk.
“Well, I screwed up so I can’t really go back to those guys anymore. No reason to follow their rules now.”
Soon after that, the magical lighting or whatever is interrupted, and we find ourselves in complete darkness. I quickly feel a small hand tugging at the sleeve of my jacket; I presume that’s Senta.
“Is this normal?” asks Nomikata who apparently is now in front of me?
“I don’t know,” answers Senta (indeed by my side) who has lowered the volume of her voice for some reason. “I’ve never been here before.”
Regardless, there is only one way to take, and it is forward. In the dark, there is only the sounds of our breathing, our dull footsteps, and the occasional brush of bodies against each other. The nervous silence is almost tangible, as if the slightest noise could conceal the impending attack.
It feels colder. It should not, because the magical lighting from earlier did not emit enough heat to make a difference, but it nonetheless feels colder. It is the darkness that grips all senses, making the cold colder, the silence heavier, and the sweat trailing down my neck even more ticklish—
—I almost lurch forward when a strange sensation washes over me. A wave of something just flowed through my body, stirring my insides like I’ve eaten spoiled food.
“What was—”
“We just walked through a bounded field,” says Nomikata like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.
“To the surprise of absolutely fucking nobody,” adds Senta. “Considering we’re boldly walking towards goddamn Caster’s goddamn workshop. Seriously, can I turn back now? Like, wish you the best, I’ll invite you to a beer next time?”
“Be quiet, girl,” coldly replies Nomikata. I think he is straightening his posture. “Caster is definitely aware of us now; be ready for anything.”
You are aware that “be ready for anything” does not make any sense, right? If you say things like that, I’m gonna start siding with Senta. I don’t want to side with Senta on anything!
“Uuugh, at least I’m gonna die surrounded by hunks. That’s supposed to be a good thing, right?”
Do you start spouting idiotic nonsense when you’re nervous, girl!?
We walk further forward. My heartbeat is awfully loud in my ears. If I have to guess, Nomikata has turned on his circuits? I should probably do the same; then I could use Sthūla-Śarīra in an instant if I need to.
Status Change
Magic circuits active.
It takes longer than usual. My entire body aches and the headache is killing me. It’s hard to concentrate. When the familiar burning sensation activates that hidden part of my being, my steps falter, as if demanding effort from a part of my body provokes the failure of another. I am caught before my knees hit the rocky floor, fortunately.
“Javier,” murmurs Senta right to my ear. Her voice actually projects concern. Damn it, girl, Nazis are not supposed to be like this.
Perhaps the darkness has enhanced my other senses, because it is the first time I catch a scent from the girl, despite having carried her earlier. Senta smells very faintly of chemicals, formalin first and foremost, and for fuck’s sake, what am I even doing?
“I’m fine, thank you,” I murmur as I push my legs to straighten and support my weight properly like they are supposed to.
“You’re obviously not fine, don’t take me for an idiot,” vehemently hisses the girl in response. The dark silhouette that is Seigi Nomikata looms closer.
“Perhaps we should retreat for now and take another rest—”
We do not get the chance, as torches light up along the length of the passage ahead of us. Nomikata assumes a stance right in front of me, standing protectively in a way I’d find a little demeaning if I had the mind to worry about things like that right now. Senta still holds my right side, but she too looks ahead as if expecting goddamn Slenderman to pop up or something. I struggle with the sudden lighting for a moment, but quickly enough I recognize pairs of torches: one to the left and one to the right. A most natural placement. Then why do I feel there is something—no, before that…
“What’s that smell…is it incense?”
The other two have also noticed it. Senta has already covered her nose and mouth with a handkerchief she pulled out of her breast pocket.
“Hold your breath!” hisses Nomikata. “It could be an attack!”
Oh. I see. Sorry, I guess I’m more tired than I thought; my brain’s just not working quickly enough. But there is no way I can hold on my breath for an indeterminate amount of time. Instead, I imagine: a curtain of flames wreathing my body, rejecting all impurity, all wanted and unnecessary things. The flame within palpitates, stirred by the image I create in my mind.
“Luminous Dress.”
The image is brought onto reality; this is the miracle Maria declared is called Magecraft. This is my magecraft, a creation of my own, despite the divine flame now latching itself to it. In any case, the foreign scent no longer stimulates my nostrils, as the flames keep it at bay while allowing the necessary breathing air to pour in. Senta and Nomikata look at me, obviously wondering what the hell I’m up to now.
Can I…? I’ve never used it on more than one object at a time. I lightly stretch my hand towards Senta, imagining the raiment of flames pouring out of my body to wreathe her as well.
Nothing happens. The flame refuses my will like unyielding stone. I can only shake my head at this failure.
“Sorry, I guess I can’t…”
The other two, seemingly having figured out the purpose of my spell, merely shake their heads and face forward once more. There is no change in the path ahead: the same six pairs of opposite torches burning their incense, and—
“Thirteen,” I mutter as I realize. “The seventh torch on the right doesn’t have a counterpart.”
For whatever reason, my words make Seigi Nomikata’s eyes widen in alarm. Thanks to the torches, I can see the sway of his head as he confirms what I just said.
“Oh crud,” he says, apparently no longer giving a dawn about the incense, then? “This is just like—”
The next moment, all but that distant torch without a partner are snuffed out. What’s the deal with that—
Senta gasps when Seigi Nomikata falls to his knees, clutching his chest like he’s having a heart attack.
“This…” He gasps out with a strained voice. “This is Lancer’s…”
My heart hammers my chest in unison with Nomikata’s face meeting the cold stone floor. He is unconscious, knocked out in an instant, and I don’t have the slightest idea how it happened.
“Imagine my surprise,” begins a completely new, unknown voice, and the hammering of my poor little heart intensifies. “When my wards inform me that over a dozen unknowns are approaching my workshop.”
“Then I look through my divinations and see only three people. Do you not find it most curious?”
I hear the words, but my brain is not really processing them. Their steps are delicate and silent, like the figures evoked by their way of dress. Their eyes are warm and inviting, but the figure in walking towards us is unmistakably a Servant; there is no hiding that.
“You arrival is unexpected but not unwelcome, child of spirits. I am currently called the Caster of the Black Sun. My fair Lady Maid told me about you.”
Senta winces. Bringing up the “name” of my most unique teacher makes my heart sink a little. So, it is like that after all…
Caster of the Black Sun
He (She? They?) gesture towards the fallen Nomikata.
“I must apologize. I do not have anything in the way of combat prowess, so I can only feel safe if I preemptively neutralize that man. It just so happens that my
Niṣirti Apkallī
Secret Knowledge of the Sages
grants me the means to deal with a being as unusual as him.”
What…I have no idea what they’re talking about. I feel bad for Senta, but I am a little relieved when Caster’s attention centers on her.
“You are…Senta, right? Be a darling and carry him the rest of the way, please.”
Caster does not project the slightest hint of hostility, but my body is tense like the antelope drinking water at the river’s shore.
“Please do come in, child of spirits. The future I have seen, and you will be in need of a bed very soon.”
After those words, Caster turns their back to us and walks away back from whence she came from. We are left in almost complete darkness, a single torch bathing us with vestigial light and warmth. Senta and I can only look at each other, the girl clearly as hesitate to take the next step as I am.
“Oh!” Caster’s voice echoes through the distance. “I strongly suggest you do not try to turn back. Do not be mistaken: you are my prisoners as of this moment, if only temporarily.”
Well, that’s how it is. It is humiliating, but I am not sure I am willing to test what they´d do if I try to run away.
“…let´s just go,” I thus decide, taking off after the Servant already immersed in the darkness.
Or at least I try.
“Wait, why the hell are you going along with her and making me the mule!?”
…ah. Right.
Choice Time
Well, looks like we’re prisoners now. What’s the plan, then?
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about Sakura.
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about Seigi Nomikata.
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about The Maid.
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about the future they saw.
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about their multiple summonings.
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about the Nazi Servants.
Go along with Caster for now. Ask about something else (Write-in).
Go along with Caster for now. Follow them in silence.
Change of plans. Do not move from here. Try to wake up Nomikata.
Change of plans. Fuck Caster, we’re getting out of here (Write-in—Propose your escape plan).
Wise-up! (Caster of the Black Sun)
Niṣirti Apkallī
Secret Knowledge of the Sages
— A+
The descendants of Caster considered themselves heirs to the secret millennial wisdom of the antediluvian apkallu sages and the unmânu sages of the time of Gilgamesh. They were aristocrats of the mind, keepers of mysteries impenetrable to the common man; a duty made all the more critical by the decline of humankind's esoteric knowledge as the Age of Gods neared its definite end. They went even further as to "mythify" Caster's life and feats, making them a contemporary of the King of Heroes in the records of their time.
This Skill enhances the mystery of its owner, granting them the knowledge and ability to wield ancient Mesopotamian magecraft which was already lost in their lifetime. It further encompasses the effect of High-Speed Incantation at rank A.
*** ***
Warning!
This is a Save Point.
If your quest reaches a Dead End, you may choose to resume it from this point.
Nuts, should've voted for Maria to vaporize Rider after all. I assume the dozen or so extra presences are due to Seigi, but him being a red herring for all of Javier's childhood acquaintances being bits and pieces of his divine core isn't unlikely either.
Hmmm... Caster, unlike Senta, has no reason to help us work around any geas imposed on her. 5 seems to be the best choice.
Originally Posted by Rafflesiac
Nuts, should've voted for Maria to vaporize Rider after all.
I dearly hope Alicia survived somehow, but my intuition keeps telling me that having Maria just attack Rider right then and there would have been a mistake.
- - - Updated - - -
Also, holy crap, Daneel. I continue to be astounded at your knowledge of Mesopotamian culture. I've read a bit about the apkallu, but I have never seen anything about the unmânu, and when I try to look it up, I can't find anything even on JSTOR!
Last edited by SpoonyViking; July 10th, 2019 at 11:40 AM.
I can totally devise an escape plan. Time to get crackin’
Now this here is a death flag if I've ever seen one.
Originally Posted by SpoonyViking
I've read a bit about the apkallu, but I have never seen anything about the unmânu, and when I try to look it up, I can't find anything even on JSTOR!
I'm not surprised; the title is rather obscure; I've only seen it in a handful of sources. I'd love to share them, but that would spoil Caster's identity, so it will have to wait until a later time.
Also, this might be too much of a hint, don't take the above words to mean Caster is some ultra-obscure figure. They aren't. The most obscure Servant in this quest is and will always be Saver.
II've read a bit about the apkallu, but I have never seen anything about the unmânu, and when I try to look it up, I can't find anything even on JSTOR!
The plot thickens and the number of questions I have increases. I wonder how long Daneel used to come up with this setting. Also Caster being 'responsible' for the Nazis reminds me of a Caster servant Daneel did long ago which had a Noble Phantasm that could edit the history of Heroic Spirits.
I'm not surprised; the title is rather obscure; I've only seen it in a handful of sources. I'd love to share them, but that would spoil Caster's identity, so it will have to wait until a later time.
...Damn it, Google, you had one job!
Thanks, Leftovers! I've managed to find some articles over at JSTOR. Unfortunately, from what I've seen, they require a much more developed background in Mesopotamian studies than I have, so I think I'll wait for Daneel's bibliography.
Also hi, been reading and enjoying this from the start, hella good job you've done maintaining top quality with such consistent update rate.
Thank you very much. Your appreciation always means a lot. I can only hope the rest of the story we build here develops to everyone's satisfaction.
Originally Posted by SpoonyViking
Unfortunately, from what I've seen, they require a much more developed background in Mesopotamian studies than I have, so I think I'll wait for Daneel's bibliography.
Wait, what makes you think my bibliography is no less extensive? Just so you know, my main source for Saver is the actual tablet with her legend (well, photos of it).
Wait, what makes you think my bibliography is no less extensive?
Hope, mostly. It's not uncommon for medievalist authors to be more didactic in their writing, I was hoping at least some... ...mesopotamicists? How do you call people in the field?... ...followed suit.
Well, there are of course books that can be read by anybody who is interested, like Oxford World Classic's fantastic Myths from Mesopotamia or Living in Ancient Mesopotamia by Chelsea House. The illustrated dictionary of Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia is also pretty good, but it does have a few errors. Then there's also The Sumerian World and The Babylonian World from The Routledge Worlds series, which while still mostly accessible to the layman, are also very detailed and not an easy read by any means. But the real nitty-gritty of the field is of course in the theses and scientific journals, which are written by academics for academics.
In other news, option 5 has gotten all two votes thus far. As usual I just can't predict what you're thinking.
EDIT: By the way, the field is called Assyriology. Despite the name, it encompasses the whole of Mesopotamia, from ancient Sumer to Alexander's conquest.
Also hi, been reading and enjoying this from the start, hella good job you've done maintaining top quality with such consistent update rate.
Welcome to the Questverse buddy, would you like to sign up to our monthly membership?
Originally Posted by Daneel Rush
Thank you very much. Your appreciation always means a lot. I can only hope the rest of the story we build here develops to everyone's satisfaction.
You've already overtaken Quest of Fate with content and quality has always been top mark.
Originally Posted by Daneel Rush
In other news, option 5 has gotten all two votes thus far. As usual I just can't predict what you're thinking.
Well just to be awkward then...
1, however stall for time and when you see an opening (like either a weakness in the landscape or Caster starts monologue as let's face it, they're gonna be prone to mage-splaining) either bail with Seigi, Sakura and Setna or drop kick Caster in their face.
I'm not worried about Nomikata, the kids are tough - they'll be fine.
EDIT: By the way, the field is called Assyriology. Despite the name, it encompasses the whole of Mesopotamia, from ancient Sumer to Alexander's conquest.
Oh, cool. Thanks for explaining, and thanks for the recs!
Originally Posted by Bird of Hermes
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
