"He found the knowledge at the heart of the universe; Returned, and cut his story into stone..." -- The Epic Of Gilgamesh Whom The Telling Changed By Aaron A. Reed Would you like instructions?>yes I am your eyes and hands within the story. Direct me with commands such as EXAMINE THE BAG, GO OUTSIDE, LISTEN, or FIGHT HIM. Single word shorthand like FIGHT or BAG will often suffice. Some single words will be highlighted to bring them to your attention: type them to shape the story. The header bar suggests things you may try, but there are always more options available than it shows. Time only advances when you give a command or type LISTEN, which it is sometimes wise to do. Other useful commands include REPEAT, to remember what was recently said; STORY to see the choices you have made; INVENTORY to see what you are holding; WAIT to let the time pass; UNDO to take back your last turn; and GREET, MOCK, PRAISE, TALK TO or ASK ABOUT to interact with characters. More information about this story is available by typing ABOUT. Press any key to begin. The people have always gathered on moonless nights to hear the telling, since the time of your ancestors' ancestors. The heat of the fire and the glow in the storyteller's eyes make the past present, and the path to the future clear. Tonight the stars are bright, but the minds of your people are troubled. May the words of the telling guide your way. ----------- The walls of your tent glow yellow in the lamplight, your simple possessions casting flickering shadows on the wall. A straw bed; some skins of water, oil, and wine; a small, guttering lamp--it is simple, but it is enough. The symbol of your occupation hangs from the central support of the tent. >look at symbol Which do you mean, the medicine bag or the copper dagger? >look at medicine bag A small leather medicine pouch hangs from a long strap, bulging with curative herbs. >get medicine bag The leather strap feels cool and familiar in your hands as you take your medicine bag down from its place. >get dagger You carefully take your lover's weapon down from the wall and study it thoughtfully for a moment. >get water Water for your hands, oil for your lamp, wine for your thirst. You need none of them now, but knowing they are there brings comfort. >get lamp Though the sky is dark outside, the bonfire will provide light for what seeing is necessary. >walk outside You step outside into the warm night air. It has been night for many hours, but the air is still warm, and the stars are a million brilliant fires above you. Nearby are the vague outlines of your neighbors' tents, but on this moonless night only the distant glow of the fire pit seems truly alive. In the darkness a few feet away, Sihan and Saiph talk quietly in strained tones. As you approach, your enemy grows silent. Your love turns to you with a look of relief and reaches out a hand. >look at sihan Sihan is beautiful; you have always thought so, as have many others. Her long black hair seems to swallow up her face in the dark of night. >look at saiph Saiph has his father's tall strength and the bearing of a leader. His grace and bold demeanor draw others to him, though few know of his quiet and gentle side underneath. >who is enemy Sihan is beautiful; you have always thought so, as have many others. Her long black hair seems to swallow up her face in the dark of night. >who is lover Sihan is beautiful; you have always thought so, as have many others. Her long black hair seems to swallow up her face in the dark of night. >punch sihan You clasp Saiph's strong hand and turn to Sihan with a frown. "What business have you here?" you ask her coldly. Sihan tosses her hair and fixes her sharp gaze on you. "I came to see if Saiph is truly a man of action and not only of words," she says levelly. "But I see that, like you, he is counted among the cowards and the weaklings. I have no more to say." She turns and vanishes into the darkness without a sound. >talk to saiph "I care for you more than you know," you say, kissing Saiph on the cheek. Saiph frowns. "Her heart clamors for war with these newcomers," your lover says, "and was upset to find I do not share her views. We shall see if your enemy has better luck at the telling." He looks up to the stars, and adds, "It is a good night for it." >ask about newcomers [I'm not sure what you are referring to.] >who are newcomers [Things to try: LOOK | LOOK AT | GO | TALK TO | GREET | ATTACK | TAKE | TOUCH | HEAL | LISTEN | PRAISE | MOCK | STORY | UNDO | or an EMPHASIZED word. For more detailed instructions, type INFO] >newcomers "Have you heard the news?" he asks. "Young Ada found traces of a camp less than an hour's walk from here, and more than half a day from their fires in the valley. Sihan and her friends are already sharpening their spears and preparing for war," he says darkly. >enemy "Sihan has been asking all the warriors to support her plan to attack the newcomers," your love says. "She is convinced they are planning to murder us all in our beds at any moment. She is so sure of herself; how nice it must be to have such conviction in one's own superiority." >night Saiph points up at the night sky. "See how bright the stars are," he says, "as if the gods themselves gather round our fire to hear the teller's story." >telling "It is almost time," your love says seriously. "I wonder, what story will we hear tonight? The people are buzzing about the newcomers; perhaps the teller's story will be about them." >wait Somewhere in the darkness, a night bird calls. >wait A gust of cool wind tugs your clothes. Saiph glances towards the fire pit and takes his dagger from you, sliding it into its familiar place at his waist. "Let us join the gathering and hear the story," your love says lightly, and turns to the fire at the center of the village. >fire You walk to the firepit with Saiph, and friends and neighbors greet you with a nod or quiet word. Always the fire pit is the center of the village, and always the people gather there. Faint smells of tonight's great feast still linger, but the fire now smolders low, only a shadow of its roaring fierceness at sunset. Isi and Nabu stand near the fire, along with a growing crowd. Saiph stands near your side. >talk to isi "My brightest light," says Isi as she always does, a smile lighting her face as she pulls you down to kiss your cheek. >talk to nabu Your uncle Nabu regards you seriously. "Is your Saiph ready to fight for this village, should it be necessary?" he asks. "Perhaps it will not come to fighting," you say. "Who can tell?" he says, "But those who bear arms must be prepared, nonetheless." >wait Somewhere in the darkness, a night bird calls. Saiph places a hand on your shoulder. "Go on, my love," he says softly. "Give the circlet of office to the storyteller. It is time." >storyteller "The storyteller awaits," Saiph says. "The telling cannot begin until the teller's circlet has been gifted." >give circlet Whom do you want to give the feather circlet to? >give circlet to saiph No; Saiph is not the storyteller. >give circlet to storyteller Your people have always believed in the power of names. For such an important ceremony as this, you must use the teller's name. >give circlet to nabu You approach your uncle Nabu and hand the circlet to the small old man. He takes it delicately, eyeing the craftsmanship, and then looks up at you and smiles warmly. Carefully, he lifts it up to his old head--and now before you is no longer your father's brother, but the storyteller... a role he has taken every new moon for many years. >listen A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. Sihan approaches the far side of the fire and greets some friends warmly. >[Nothing entered.] >wait Somewhere in the darkness, a night bird calls. Saiph kisses your cheek. "May the story bring you what you seek," he whispers, then slips into the crowd. Your beloved has always liked to hear the stories by himself. >talk to nabu The storyteller seems to be gathering himself together; you should not disturb him. The murmurings of the people die away as the storyteller rises to his feet and raises two bony hands. >wait It is strangely quiet around the fire. The storyteller shouts, "In this time of darkness the people gather for the telling. Will the people hear?" >wait A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. The crowd cries out with one voice, "The people are ready." The teller bows humbly, accepting the people's blessing, then straightens with the hint of a smile. "Tonight," he says, "we shall hear an old, old story, from days long ago when great cities and mighty kings ruled this land. May you find in the story that which you seek." >wait A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. The storyteller lifts his hands in invocation. "Our story begins," he says quietly, "in the far-off city of Uruk. Uruk of the broad streets, Uruk of the mighty walls. Can you see them, gleaming in the desert heat?" The teller gestures into the night, and in your mind the walls come alive, shimmering in the desert air. "Come," he continues, "cross the ancient threshold, walk the streets and orchards and markets. Walk the streets and climb the great stone steps to the temple. Climb the steps and find the box of burnished copper. Find the box and undo the lock and draw out the great tablet of deep blue stone. Draw out the tablet and read of Uruk's king, Uruk's pride, Uruk's greatest hero. Hear of the trials of Gilgamesh." >tablet "From where came this tablet of bluest stone?" you ask. "Gilgamesh carved it," the teller says, "cut his words deep into the tablet of lapis lazuli, bluest of blues. Wise Gilgamesh carved all his exploits and knowledge into the tablets, and hid them under the cornerstone of Uruk, so men would remember his deeds long after he went to the underworld. But," the teller adds, "that was long after the story we shall hear tonight." >gilgamesh You wonder why the teller has chosen a story of Gilgamesh, whose name is legend. Is it to inspire the people in a time of fear? >why "Is this a well-chosen tale?" you ask respectfully. "Should we hear stories of battle and war when they lie on our very doorstep?" The crowd looks hesitantly between you and the storyteller, who regards you with inscrutable eyes. "Stories are not all of far off places and distant times," he says softly. "The world tells us stories every day, and the wise pay heed. Gilgamesh may teach us much tonight, if we have the ears to hear." You bow your head, accepting the storyteller's decision. >inspire The story has moved on; there are other things to say. The teller continues. "Mighty was Gilgamesh, a lord among lords. Mighty is he who both leads the way and guards the rear. Mighty is he who both crashes like a wave and shelters the weak. Gilgamesh was tall, strong, bearded, a roaring bull among his people. Aruru, mother of the Earth, gave him his form, and Adad the Storm gave him courage, and Shamash the Sun gave him beauty--but," the teller's piercing eyes fixate on the crowd, "he was still a man, nonetheless." >man Gilgamesh had something of the gods in him, it seems, but also something of men. Which, you wonder, shaped him more? >gods "How awesome to have such divinity in one's creation," you say. "The people of Uruk were blessed indeed to have such a king to lead them." "And they knew it," says the teller with a twinkle in his eye, "even if they sometimes wished for a leader who provoked awe less frequently." Whispers of assent float across the fire; a few nod visibly at these words. Through the crowd, you spot the guarded gaze of your love, eyeing you with concern. >uruk "Tell more of the city of Uruk," you ask. "Uruk, mighty Uruk of the wide streets," the teller says with shining eyes, "its heart the temple of Inanna, towering over all; its skin mighty walls of oven-fired brick, their like unmatched in all the world. Uruk, planned by the seven sages and filled with orchards and gardens. Never was a city more mighty and proud than Uruk, and never had any city so great a king." >wait A gust of cool wind tugs your clothes. The telling continues. "With his friend and companion Enkidu," the storyteller says, "Gilgamesh ruled Uruk with a young and prideful heart. But he saw the dead and dying in the streets of Uruk, and his mind was troubled." >troubled Before you can speak, Sihan steps forward. "Death comes to the weak quicker than the strong," Sihan's voice calls out from across the circle. "It is the way of things, and cannot change. Gilgamesh spent his worries needlessly." Her eyes meet yours for a moment, as if challenging you to agree or disagree. >wait A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. "And how did Enkidu challenge so mighty a hero as Gilgamesh?" an aged man from the crowd cries out. "Enkidu heard how Gilgamesh took the young men from their fathers and the young women from their mothers, and he grew angry," says the storyteller. "Enkidu grew angry and came to the city of Uruk, when he had never before entered a city of man. Enkidu entered the city and sought out Gilgamesh, and they fought. Walls shook; people cowered; the cobblestones cracked as they wrestled through the streets. Gilgamesh was the victor, but so awed was he by Enkidu's strength that he lifted him to his feet and made a bond of friendship that would never break." >wait A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. The storyteller continues. "One night," he says, "as Gilgamesh knelt in prayer, Shamash, god of the sun, came down to whisper in his ear. Shamash whispered to Gilgamesh of a far off place called the Cedar Forest, where dwelt the demon Humbaba. Shamash whispered that he who could defeat Humbaba would gain fame greater than any man. He who could chop down the tallest cedar and defeat Humbaba the guardian would gain everlasting fame. He would burn in the minds of men forever. He would never be forgotten. And the heart of Gilgamesh became restless." >restless Doubtless the heart of Gilgamesh stirred at a chance for glory; but was this Humbaba a valid opponent? >cedar "What magic was there in the Cedar Forest that made it special?" you ask. "Uruk was a land like ours," the teller answers, "where the tree is scarce and the wood is poor. Cedarwood is strong, and beautiful, and pleasant to see and smell, and in those days was valued as gold. In the Cedar Forest far, far away, the cedar trees are so thick you could not see a man a hundred paces away; and so tall you could not see the sky." >wait Somewhere in the darkness, a night bird calls. "You said King Gilgamesh was restless when he heard Shamash's call," Sihan says loudly. "And of course he was! What king would not seize a chance for glory, to prove his strength and power? A leader is trebled in stature when admired by the people." Whispers dance around the circle as the people share their views; a fair number seem in agreement. Sihan's words seem to be reaching the crowd's more than yours. >wait A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. The story moves on. "The heart of Gilgamesh burned with the words of Shamash," says the teller. "Gilgamesh sought out his friend Enkidu and said to him: 'You came from the wild. My friend, you came from the wild and you know the secret paths of animals. Do you know the way to the Cedar Forest?' "Enkidu sighed and his heart grew heavy," says the teller, and then seems to become young and strong as the gruff guise of Enkidu comes over him. "'Yes, I know the way to the Cedar Forest, but it is long and lonely. And what awaits you at its end but the demon Humbaba? The lord of all gods, mighty Enlil, has set him there to guard the Cedar Forest. What man or god could defeat him, my brother?'" >guard "Guard?" you call out. "Did you say the demon Humbaba was set by the gods to guard the Cedar Forest?" "By Enlil," says the teller, nodding, "Humbaba long had guarded the Cedar Forest against mortal intruders, at the command of Enlil, lord of all gods." "So Shamash who set this idea before Lord Gilgamesh sought merely to use him as a pawn in some divine gambit?" you ask. A babble of astonished voices rises from the crowd. Your adversary's voice shouts above the others: "Bold is he who dares to question the will of a god, even one now worshipped by few. How can a mortal know what purpose drives the divine?" >question "The gods must be questioned," you respond, "for otherwise what purpose do men serve but as their playthings and mindless lackeys?" "And could you understand their answers?" Sihan says powerfully. "The gods spin and weave our fate; without their powers we are nothing." Many in the crowd nod, and give you brief smiles. Sihan's words seem to be reaching the crowd's more than yours. >purpose The story has moved on; there are other things to say. "Subtle is the art of the storyteller," Sihan says with a smile. "Do you see why Gilgamesh is the leader and Enkidu only a follower? He hesitates in the face of danger; when courage is called for, he backs away. It is Gilgamesh whose bravery will be remembered and loved." People murmur in agreement and nod. The storyteller's eyes sparkle in the firelight, inscrutable. >wait A gust of wind ripples through the grass. The telling continues. "Gilgamesh looked at Enkidu with disapproving eyes," continues the teller, who then seems to grow tall and strong. "Is this the brave Enkidu I know?" he asks in the voice of the king. "Is this Enkidu who fought with the wild beasts and once challenged King Gilgamesh himself? Have you traded courage for cowardice? Our days are few, and chances for glory far between. Do you not wish to burn forever in the minds of men?" The teller becomes Enkidu again, and seems to consider the words of Gilgamesh. "'You have set your mind, I see. You will make this quest no matter what your friend Enkidu counsels. Since that is your road, I will go with you. I will guide you on the hidden paths; I will find for you the hidden water; I will help you on your quest for glory. Enkidu will go with you.'" >quest Is Gilgamesh right to set off on this quest for personal glory? Should he rather stay and help the people of Uruk? >people "A strange king is Gilgamesh," you say loudly. "He is troubled by the sight of his people, sick and dying, so he leaves them to go on a long quest to distant lands. Would a better king not have stayed behind to help them?" "What help could he have given them?" asks Sihan. "Gilgamesh was not a healer, but a fighter; a warrior. He could best help his people by inspiring them; though I do not expect you to understand." She gives you a tiny, humorless smile. >cowardice "There are few chances for glory," you say. "Why did Enkidu not relish such a chance to prove his valor, and that of his King?" "The story does not say," says the teller demurely, "and so neither shall I." Whispers of assent float across the fire; some nod visibly at these words. You feel but do not see Saiph's gaze burning on your face. >wait The wind picks up, bending the fire's smoke and rustling your hair. The story continues. "Gilgamesh rejoiced," the teller says, "and summoned the blacksmiths to forge mighty weapons for the companions. He summoned the blacksmiths and summoned the servants to prepare food and supplies. He summoned the servants and summoned the priestesses to make generous sacrifices, to ask the gods for good fortune." "When all was ready, Gilgamesh and Enkidu passed through the seven gates of Uruk and set off into the desert. The people watched them go," he says softly, "the people of Uruk in silence watched them go." >silence "Did the people of Uruk not cheer as their two greatest heroes left on this quest?" you ask. "I would not," says an old woman near you. "If my protectors left me for a long journey to distant lands, leaving the weak and defenseless to fend for themselves? No; I would watch in silence, too." Low muttering comes from across the circle; it seems this has struck a chord with some. Saiph gives you a quiet smile from across the fire. >wait Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. "Tell us more of the mighty weapons made for Gilgamesh!" one of Sihan's friends says loudly. "They were like the weapons of the gods," says the storyteller, spreading out his hands, "axes taller than men; knives with mighty pommels and inlaid patterns of gold and lapis; armor that no ordinary man could have bore. But Gilgamesh and Enkidu took them all and used them with skill." >wait Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. "Hot were the sands of the desert," continues the teller, "hot were the sands and hard was the way. Many bones of less fortunate travellers marked their journey. But Enkidu knew the secret paths of the animals and the secret hiding places of water, and the land fell behind them swiftly." "The first mountain range they crossed in a day; the first desert and mountain range they crossed in a single day. On the next day they crossed the second desert and the second mountain range; on the next they crossed the third desert and the third mountain range. On the third night they lay down to sleep, utterly exhausted from their journey." >mountain "Was the crossing of the mountains difficult?" you ask. "For the likes of us, perhaps;" says the teller, "certainly for an old bones like me. Great and long the desert ranges ran, with no water or shelter or game on their cruel slopes. But Gilgamesh and Enkidu strode over their slopes without slowing down, though the sweat coursed down their bodies like rain." >bones "Did the companions not stop to perform burial rites on the bones of those who had died in the desert?" you ask. "Why should they?" says Sihan. "Those who failed the journey were weak, and their fate was decided accordingly. We should not pity the weak." A gust of wind ripples through the grass. >wait The wind picks up, bending the fire's smoke and rustling your hair. The teller continues. "In the darkest hour of night Gilgamesh woke with a start and clutched his chest. 'Who walks there?' he gasped. 'Why does my flesh tingle? Has a god touched me?' Enkidu heard and awoke, saying, 'Have you dreamt, Gilgamesh? Tell me your dream and I will unravel its meaning.' 'I dreamt we walked in a gorge beneath a mighty mountain, you and I,' said Gilgamesh. 'We were like flies beneath its massive bulk. Then, with a rumble, the mountain collapsed on top of us. What is its meaning, my friend?'" >dream Dreams are sent by the gods. Was this dream sent by Shamash, to presage the fall of Humbaba? Or, perhaps, by Enlil, warning of the consequences of destroying his guardian? >Enlil "A dark dream," you say, "for the heroes to have on their journey. Clearly it was sent by Enlil, to warn of the doom the companions will face if they destroy his servant Humbaba." "Your reasoning is sound," says the teller with a bow, "but the interpretation does not match the one Enkidu gave to Gilgamesh. 'The mountain is the demon Humbaba,' he said. 'Shamash has sent us this dream to show that we will defeat the demon, and his fall will shake the earth.' And Gilgamesh heard his words, and was at peace." >wait The stars begin to fade as clouds swallow up their light. "Dreams of portent are frightening," says a young mother, pulling her wrap tighter around her. "I do not like the gods to enter my head in the night." "Wise you are to be cautious," says the teller with a nod. "The ways of the gods are strange and obscure to men, their dealings laced with complexities we cannot understand." >wait The wind is picking up now, catching the teller's hair and making it dance with each gust. As the teller speaks more of the journey across the desert, a strong hand presses on your shoulder. You turn to see Sihan's face only inches from yours. "Your words are subtle tonight," she says, "and I wonder at your purpose. I will ask you straight: do you counsel action or the path of words?" >purpose "I have only the same purpose as you," you say, "to lead our people down a path to safety." "Safety?" Sihan asks, her eyes widening, "safety is convincing them to lay down their weapons when a fearsome enemy approaches? You would give them safety by tricking them into making a peace that cannot last, that will end only in bloodshed?" >last "Why can't it last?" you ask. "Why can we not make peace with the outsiders?" Sihan looks at you in disgust. "You are as foolish as you are outspoken," she says. "How many stories of peace does the teller know, and how many of war? How many kingdoms, great or small, have lived forever in peace? This is a world of war, and those who do not see that are truly blind." >outspoken "Perhaps I speak more than I should," you say, "but if so, it is only because I want others to hear. No matter what they might have heard from me in the past," you add, gazing at her levelly. She makes an indistinct noise in her throat and looks away. "We shall see what else I hear from you tonight," she says, then vanishes back into the crowd. >wait A flash of lightning on the horizon catches your eye, followed by a low, rumbling wave of thunder. You turn your attention back to the teller. "On the seventh day," he is saying, "the companions crossed the seventh desert and the seventh mountain range, and came at last to the edge of the Cedar Forest." "The cedars were green, and the forest cool after the barren heat of the desert, and it smelled inside of wood and soil. But quiet it was under the boughs of the trees; quiet, with a lingering whisper of fear." >quiet "But is this not normal for a forest? I have never heard of noisy trees," you say with a smile. "This forest was too quiet: quiet as a temple, quiet as a tomb," the teller chants, "no creature stirred within the Cedar Forest; not hare nor hawk nor rat nor owl. No beetles crawled on dampened leaves; no crickets chirped. Even the wind seemed to lose its voice as it entered the cool wood." >wait The wind is picking up now, catching the teller's hair and making it dance with each gust. "This fear is portentious," Sihan says. "Fear is a warning; a harbinger of terrible things and dangerous times. It is the gods themselves warning us of doom." Sihan looks at you challengingly from across the fire. "Do you agree?" she asks in a bold tone. Voices mutter in agreement; for some, this point has touched home. >disagree "No," you say with conviction, "and one who says so has much to learn about this world. Fear is not sent by the gods; it comes only from our own minds, frightened and afriad of things we do not understand. The unknown may be frightening, but it is not always evil." Sihan scowls at you from across the fire. The teller speaks slowly, lingering over each word. "Enkidu and Gilgamesh stepped into the cedars with care, but," he says, picking up speed, "the demon Humbaba, Humbaba, Humbaba heard the rustle of every leaf in the forest." The teller leaps up and spreads his arms wide, and the people shrink back in fear. "A wind blew through the trees," the teller says quickly, "and a freezing terror seized the companions. Nightmare faces leered behind gnarled branches: blood-smeared faces, faces of rabid lions, faces with hideous tusks, always changing, always horrible. But the demon did not appear before them." >not Curious, that. Did the demon not appear because he was a coward, trembling before the approach of the mighty heroes? Or did he perhaps hope to scare off the companions and avoid a fight? >scare "Perhaps he thought to save himself the trouble of fighting," you say with an amused tone, "by scaring off the intruders. Wise is the one who avoids unnecessary conflict." Low muttering comes from across the circle; it seems this has struck a chord with a fair number. Across the circle, your love gives you a tiny nod of approval. >wait The wind is picking up now, catching the teller's hair and making it dance with each gust. Sihan raises her voice above the crowd. "Truly Humbaba was hideous!" she shouts. "These changing faces that precede him are like those of all liars and thieves who mask their true self." "Only too true," nods a gaunt woman from the crowd. "Evil is often couched in deception and lies." >wait With a flutter of wings, birds ride the blustery air up the valley above you. The story goes on. "With a cry, Enkidu fell to his knees," says the teller, mimicking the action. "'I cannot go on, friend Gilgamesh! You must leave me and go on alone. I must return to Uruk in shame, for I cannot withstand the terrors of Humbaba!'" "Gilgamesh pulled Enkidu to his feet. 'Courage, friend,' he said. 'Two may prevail where one would fall. Together, we are stronger than any single man. Touch my heart and you will not fear death.' And Enkidu placed his hand on Gilgamesh's chest, and he felt no fear. Together they journeyed deeper into the forest." >together "So true are the words of Gilgamesh," you say. "Two together are stronger than two divided. Such a simple thing to say, but how many can remember it?" Whispers of assent float across the fire; a fair number nod visibly at these words. Across the circle, your love gives you a tiny nod of approval. >wait A distant roll of thunder sounds from the horizon. Sihan lets out a contemptuous snort. "So a few shadows in the dark is all it takes to subdue this Enkidu?" Sihan asks. "I would have expected more from one of Uruk's greatest heroes." "You would expect the entire village to walk off a cliff if it would make them seem more honorable," Saiph says hotly, but the mood of the crowd is clearly against him. "Be quiet and let the story continue," shouts a voice from the back of the circle. >wait The stars begin to fade as clouds swallow up their light. "Soon before them rose up a mighty cedar," continues the storyteller, so tall its top seemed to touch the sky. 'Surely, this must be the tallest cedar in the forest,' Gilgamesh cried, and unsheathed his axe. But his first blow had scarcely fallen when Humbaba screamed with rage. The leaves rustled and the ground shook, and in an instant Humbaba the terrible had come." "His face shimmered and whirled with a thousand forms," says the teller, eyes wide as if the demon stands before him, "a thousand nightmare faces whirled and shimmered down at them. Humbaba's breath scorched their faces; his screeches cut their ears." >screeches "What made the demon's cry so horrible?" you ask. "Humbaba's voice tore the air in two," says the teller, clawing a bony hand through the air, "sucked at the clouds and stirred up the lightning with its ferocity. The mountains trembled, and mothers in distant lands looked to the skies in fear and clutched their little ones to them tightly." >breath "Humbaba's breath was fire?" you ask. "Not fire like this," says the teller, nudging a smoldering log. "It was as if the air itself was burned; scorched and withered inside and out." >first "On the very first blow of Gilgamesh the demon came?" you ask. "That is so," nods the teller, "the sound of the splitting tree had not yet died when the ground began to shake with Humbaba's rage." "It seems this demon has a sense at least of honor, then," you say quietly. The story goes on. "Gilgamesh trembled and fell to his knees. 'I cannot face him!' he cried to Enkidu, 'My blood has turned to ice. You must go on and fight him without me!' Enkidu pulled Gilgamesh to his feet. 'Courage, friend,' he said. 'The well-twined rope is stronger than a single strand. Together, we are stronger than any single man. Touch my heart and you will not fear death.' And Gilgamesh placed his hand on Enkidu's chest, and he felt no fear. Together they drew their weapons and faced the demon Humbaba." >friend "The true friend is always there to help," you say. "What would Gilgamesh have done without Enkidu?" "Spent less time talking and more fighting!" says a young man, whose friends all laugh uproariously. Whispers dance around the circle as the people share their views; some seem in agreement; for a moment, you see Saiph's grinning face across the crowd. >wait Lightning flashes in the sky above. The crowd shuffles impatiently. "Let the story move on," calls someone, "let the heroes overcome their fear and destroy this demon." Many nod in agreement; Sihan looks at you with a smug, victorious smile. >gilgamesh "Ahh," you say, a great smile breaking over your face despite yourself. "And now it is your mighty Gilgamesh who falls to his knees in fear. Will you mock him too, as you did Enkidu?" Sihan stares back at your with narrowed eyes. "Do not make light of the story," she says quietly. The story continues. "Humbaba laughed, and the mountains shook," the teller says, then draws himself up and cries out in a great, booming voice: "'What fools are these? What fools are these who dare challenge the demon Humbaba? I will crush your bodies and leave your corpses bloody and mangled on the ground. You will never see your homes again and your women and children will mourn an empty grave.' And with a roar like the splitting of the heavens, Humbaba charged." "Enkidu stabbed with spear; Gilgamesh slashed with sword; Humbaba ripped with claws. Trees crashed to earth; the ground was torn asunder; lightning and thunder split the skies over the forest. Gilgamesh and Enkidu fought like no men ever fought before; but still the demon Humbaba drove them back, and the companions came ever closer to defeat." >wait The people huddle together as a hot, damp wind catches their clothes. "Awesome must it have been, to see such a fight," Sihan says. "You would not have wanted to be too close!" warns the teller, bringing a nervous laugh from the audience. "The clouds turned to a poisonous shroud; the very mountains were split by the fury of Humbaba's rage. It was all the companions could do to stay alive." Sihan glowers at you from across the flames. You cannot help but feel you are losing the crowd. >lightning You open your mouth to speak but a middle-aged widow turns with a look of annoyance. "You speak too much." she says frostily, "Be quiet and let the rest of us hear how the story ends!" She turns eagerly back to the teller, as several nearby people hide their smiles. The teller continues. "Gilgamesh cried to the sky, 'Shamash, my lord! Help your servant Gilgamesh in his hour of need!' And Shamash heard Gilgamesh's cry, and sent all the mighty winds of the world to rail against Humbaba: The Winds of the North and the South and the West and the East and the Rainstorm and the Snowstorm and the Icestorm and the Sandstorm; the Screaming Winds and the Piercing Winds and the Cruel Winds and the Devil Winds and the Winds of Simurru. Thirteen winds Shamash sent against Humbaba, and not even he could stand against them all. Enkidu threw a net over Humbaba and Gilgamesh seized him from behind." >winds Sihan is speaking before you can react. "How awesome an ally," Sihan marvels, "how great an honor the companions of our story received! Could their quest be any more justified than with the divine blessing, the divine assistance of Shamash, lord of the skies?" >wait A gust of wind makes the ashes of the fire hiss. Sounds of scuffling come from the back of the circle. People crane their necks in alarm, but it is only two young boys reenacting the capture of Humbaba. "Got you!" one of them shouts, as his parents pull him away with tiny smiles. >wait It is strangely quiet around the fire. The teller continues. "Humbaba saw the way things were and cried out in fear. Humbaba the demon cried out, 'Do not kill me, mighty heroes! If you let me live I will be your slave, your eternal servant. I will let you cut down all the trees you want; I will cut them for you. I could have attacked you when first you set foot in my forest, but I showed you mercy. Now return the favor and spare my life.' "Gilgamesh heard Humbaba's words and took pity on the monster. He lowered his sword. But Enkidu cried out: 'Do not listen to him! Show no mercy to this cunning foe, this evil creature. If you let him live he would attack us the moment our backs were turned.'" >