"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 "Whom the Telling Changed" is interactive fiction, meaning both that you must read it and interact with it. Whenever you see the prompt: >...you may type something that will shape the story. This can be a single word, such as LOOK to remind yourself of where you are, or REPEAT, to remind yourself of what was recently said. Certain words will be highlighted, drawing your attention to important objects or topics of conversation. You may also type simple commands to perform actions. The story understands basic VERB NOUN combinations the best, such as TAKE ROCK, GO OUTSIDE, TALK TO ISI, or ATTACK ISI. Try the verbs TALK, PRAISE, MOCK, or SHOW TO to interact with characters. If you don't want to do anything, try LISTEN or WAIT. Finally, you may type STORY at any time to see how the choices you've made have shaped the ongoing story. HELP will repeat these instructions. 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. >overalls [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] >take bag The leather strap feels cool and familiar in your hands as you take your medicine bag down from its place. >out 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. >touch sihan You clasp Sihan's soft hand and turn to Saiph with a frown. "What business have you here?" you ask him coldly. Saiph stares down at you with distaste. "I came to see if Sihan is truly a woman of action and not only of words," he says levelly. "But I see that, like you, she is counted among the cowards and the weaklings. I have no more to say." He turns and strides fiercely into the darkness. >fire You linger for a moment in the starlight, tempted to enjoy more quiet words with your love. Sihan sighs. "His heart clamors for war with these newcomers," your lover says, "and was upset to find I do not share his views. We shall see if your enemy has better luck at the telling." She looks up to the stars, and adds, "It is a good night for it." >fire Sihan glances towards the fire pit, ducks inside the tent and emerges a moment later with her copper dagger, sliding it into its familiar place at her 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. You walk to the firepit with Sihan, 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. Nabu and Isi stand near the fire, along with a growing crowd. Sihan stands near your side. >give circlet to isi You approach your aunt Isi and hand the circlet to the white-haired old woman. She takes it delicately, eyeing the craftsmanship, and then looks up at you and smiles warmly. Carefully, she lifts it up to her old head--and now before you is no longer your father's sister, but the storyteller... a role she has taken every new moon for many years. >z Somewhere in the darkness, a night bird calls. Saiph approaches the far side of the fire and greets some friends warmly. >z Somewhere in the darkness, a night bird calls. Sihan kisses your cheek. "May the story bring you what you seek," she whispers, then slips into the crowd. Your beloved has always liked to hear the stories by herself. >z A gust of cool wind tugs your clothes. The murmurings of the people die away as the storyteller rises to her feet and raises two bony hands. >z 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?" >z A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. 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," she 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." >z A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. The storyteller lifts her hands in invocation. "Our story begins," she 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," she 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." >z A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. Saiph smiles broadly. "Ah, good!" he says, "a story of my ancestor Gilgamesh. There, there was a true hero to inspire the people in troubled times." Some in the crowd murmur in excitement, but older faces look as if they question Saiph's claim of lineage. >z A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. "Tell us of the city of Uruk," calls a young woman from the crowd. "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." >z A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. 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." >Shamash "What did great Shamash give to King Gilgamesh?" you call out. "Shamash, Father Utu, Lord of the Sun and of Justice, gave to great Gilgamesh beauty and nobility," the teller says. "Shamash's burning touch woke within Uruk's king the fire of legend." >legend [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] >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 her eye, "even if they sometimes wished for a leader who provoked awe less frequently." Whispers of assent float across the fire; one or two nod visibly at these words. >A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. 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." >z A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. "Death comes to the weak quicker than the strong," booms out Saiph from across the circle. "It is the way of things, and cannot change. Gilgamesh spent his worries needlessly." His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if challenging you to agree or disagree. >z A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. "I've heard that one before," brags an older boy behind you to his eager companion. "Enkidu was just a wild animal until he met a girl who..." "Hush, Furu," his smiling mother interrupts. >z A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. The storyteller continues. "One night," she 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." >z A log falls in the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the night. "You said King Gilgamesh was restless when he heard Shamash's call," Saiph 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." A shepherd nods his head, and holds his wife closer. You cannot help but feel you are losing the crowd. >z A gust of cool wind tugs your clothes. "Tell my little one more of Humbaba the demon," a young father says. The teller bends down and smiles at the sullen child. "His breath is a firestorm; his voice is the floodwaters; his jaws are death itself. Horrible to look at is the demon Humbaba, and the few who saw him and survived could not describe his face." The child's eyes widen in fear and the storyteller tousles his hair. >z A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. 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 her. "'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?'" >z Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. "Subtle is the art of the storyteller," Saiph 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. >z A gust of wind ripples through the grass. "Shamash himself came down from the realm of the gods to tell Gilgamesh of this?" asks a weatherbeaten farmer. "Why don't I have such luck?" A few of his neighbors chuckle. >z 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?" she 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.'" >z A gust of wind ripples through the grass. "But why didn't he want to fight the demon?" asks an incredulous child. "Many have wondered that in the ages since this story was first told," says the storyteller. "What do you think?" "I think he was afraid," the boy says, after a moment's thought. >z The wind picks up, bending the fire's smoke and rustling your hair. >z Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. 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," she says softly, "the people of Uruk in silence watched them go." >z Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. "How solemn the folk of Uruk must have been," says Saiph, "to recognize the seriousness of such a moment, and not protest like fearful children." Voices mutter in agreement; for a fair number, this point has touched home. >z The wind picks up, bending the fire's smoke and rustling your hair. "Tell us more of the mighty weapons made for Gilgamesh!" one of Saiph's friends says loudly. "They were like the weapons of the gods," says the storyteller, spreading out her 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." >z A gust of wind ripples through the grass. "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." >z Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. "True heroes were Gilgamesh and Enkidu," Saiph says. "They did not stop to pity the dead travellers who did not have the strength to cross the desert. They knew that the weak should not be pitied, for pity saps the strength of strong and weak alike." Low muttering comes from across the circle; it seems this has struck a chord with some, but you hear a disparaging snort from Sihan. >z Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. A muffled snore floats across the circle, and heads turn towards an old woman asleep on her feet. As the crowd giggles, she jerks awake, and looks around guiltily. "I was but picturing the story in my head," she sniffs in a defensive tone. "Do not fret, old mother," the teller says with a wink in her voice, "after the desert crossing the tale becomes much more exciting." The crowd laughs uproariously. >z Wisps of clouds mark moving black shadows on the stars above. 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?'" >z A flash of lightning on the horizon catches your eye, followed by a low, rumbling wave of thunder. "A clever trick," says Saiph with a smirk, "to house good omens in tragedy. But it is clear this dream was sent by Shamash, to show that the demon Humbaba will fall." The storyteller bows to Saiph. "And this is how Enkidu, too, unraveled the dream of 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." The people mutter with restrained excitement. Saiph catches your eye and gives you an unfriendly smile. >z A distant roll of thunder sounds from the horizon. "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." >z With a flutter of wings, birds ride the blustery air up the valley above you. As the teller speaks more of the journey across the desert, a strong hand presses on your shoulder. You turn to see Saiph's face only inches from yours. "Your words are subtle tonight," he says, "and I wonder at your purpose. I will ask you straight: do you counsel action or the path of words?" >action "Action drives the world," you say quietly. "Heroes like Gilgamesh make our people what we are." "You speak truth," Saiph says, looking at you with newfound respect. "I am glad to have you on my side. Soon I intend to move against the enemy, before they have a chance to strike us unprotected. Tonight is our chance to convince the naysayers to support us in our mission. >naysayers "You cannot so easily separate me from the naysayers," you say quietly. "We both perhaps have much left to say this night." Saiph gives you a long stare. "You have always been one for mysterious speeches," he says. "I ask you in plain language, now: are you with me or against me?" >against "I do not wish to say I am against you," you whisper back, "but unless you turn from this rush towards warfare, I must oppose you." Saiph's face darkens and his eyes become daggers. "You are a fool," he says. "I hope only that your foolishness does not mean the end of our people. I have no more to say." He turns and vanishes back into the crowd. >gun [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] >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. You turn your attention back to the teller. "On the seventh day," she 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." >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior woman, Sihan. On the night of the telling, when the healer's aunt Isi became the teller, their enemy Saiph tried his best to turn the people towards needless war with the outsiders. The healer stayed quiet while Saiph rallied the people to war. . >woman [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] >mock Whom do you want to mock? >SAIph "That is the best way you can think to defend your position?" you say loudly. "I might have expected better from one who holds himself in such high esteem." Saiph ignores your baiting, set jaw and steel gaze focusing on the storyteller, but the crowd looks to you with grins. >touch What do you want to touch? >Saiph He is not close enough for that. "This fear is portentious," Saiph says. "Fear is a warning; a harbinger of terrible things and dangerous times. It is the gods themselves warning us of doom." Saiph looks at you challengingly from across the fire. "Do you agree?" he asks in a bold tone. Saiph scowls darkly at you from across the flames. Almost no one is looking towards you now. >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. "Quiet?" asks a shepherd, brows knitting. "Was that unexpected?" "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." >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. The teller speaks slowly, lingering over each word. "Enkidu and Gilgamesh stepped into the cedars with care, but," she says, picking up speed, "the demon Humbaba, Humbaba, Humbaba heard the rustle of every leaf in the forest." The teller leaps up and spreads her 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." >freezing "Tell more of the freezing terror of Humbaba," you say, intrigued. "It was as if the very bones of their bodies were turned to ice," the teller says with wide eyes and open hands. "They stood for a time rooted to the spot, paralyzed, the terror of Humbaba filling their bodies." >faces Shifting faces can be the mark of thieves; but perhaps there is more to them. >more "The faces--whose were they?" you ask. "The terrors of Humbaba; the seven terrors of the demon," says the teller. "Guarding their master they should have been; but they flocked to the companions, leering and snarling at them with a thousand devil faces. Enkidu's heart raced in his chest, as it had not done since he ran with the animals." >thieves "Be careful in your words," you say to Saiph thoughtfully. "Humbaba is a demon; horrible; terrible; frightening. But we have heard nothing of lies from him; nor of thievery." Saiph laughs. "One does not need to wait for the lion to attack before fleeing," he says. "One does not need to wonder each time stormclouds gather whether there will be rain. Those who do are the simple and the foolish, to be pitied or ridiculed by those with sense." 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." >fell Does this episode show a weakness in Enkidu, or does it illustrate a strength in Gilgamesh? >strength "Gilgamesh is a true friend," you say thoughtfully. "He has learned something about friendship since the start of this journey, when he called Enkidu a coward for questioning him." "You would think Enkidu might have learned something as well," grumbles an old man from the edge of the circle. "Abandoning his friend to a demon at the moment of truth? These are not the actions of a hero." > [Nothing entered.] >weakness The story has moved on; there are other things to say. Saiph lets out a contemptuous snort. "So a few shadows in the dark is all it takes to subdue this Enkidu?" Saiph 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 manly," Sihan says hotly, but the mood of the crowd is clearly against her. "Be quiet and let the story continue," shouts a voice from the back of the circle. >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. "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." >cedar Saiph is speaking before you can react. "On the very first blow of Gilgamesh the demon came?" Saiph asks. "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." "He is cunning," Saiph says, "this demon. He hides behind shadows and terror, waiting for his victims to grow complacent before striking." Voices mutter in agreement; for a fair number, this point has touched home, but you hear a disparaging snort from Sihan. >hides "Hides?" you ask aloud. "It was no secret that Humbaba dwelt within the Cedar Forest. It was no secret to Gilgamesh that he was its guardian. Gilgamesh and Enkidu knew well the consequences if they entered there." "It also was no secret that this creature was a demon, a monster," says a young father with a clenched jaw, as many in the crowd mutter their assent. "If you imply this beast was somehow wronged, you speak your words into a lonely void." >striking "And Gilgamesh and Enkidu's response will be swift," you say. "They will cut down this wicked demon before he may spread his terror to the world." The crowd voices their approval loudly. 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." >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?" Saiph stares back at your with narrowed eyes. "Do not make light of the story," he says quietly. >go outside The telling has begun. If you left now, you would miss the story. 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; Saiph looks at you with a smug, victorious smile. >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. The story continues. "Humbaba laughed, and the mountains shook," the teller says, then draws herself 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." >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. "Awesome must it have been, to see such a fight," Saiph 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." >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. A small, wide-eyed child gasps at the teller's words. There are no chuckles now; the people follow the wild arms of the storyteller like locusts, and strain to hear her words above the rising wind. >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. 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." >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. "How awesome an ally," Saiph 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?" A voice somewhere behind you calls, "It is true!" and some nod their heads in agreement. >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. 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. A gust of wind makes the ashes of the fire hiss. >look 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. The teller stands near the fire, and all the people's attention is focused on her. 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.'" > [Nothing entered.] > [Nothing entered.] >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior woman, Sihan. On the night of the telling, when the healer's aunt Isi became the teller, their enemy Saiph tried his best to turn the people towards needless war with the outsiders. The healer stayed quiet while Saiph rallied the people to war. . >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior woman, Sihan. On the night of the telling, when the healer's aunt Isi became the teller, their enemy Saiph tried his best to turn the people towards needless war with the outsiders. The healer stayed quiet while Saiph rallied the people to war. . >talk to iss [I'm not sure what you are referring to.] >talk to iss [I'm not sure what you are referring to.] >talk to isi Now is not the time for idle chatter, but response to the story. [The bar along the top of the screen shows some possible topics, or type REPEAT to hear the latest part of the story again.] "My people," says Saiph, "is the evil of this demon Humbaba not clear? Hideous he is, with changing faces; he strikes fear into the hearts of all men; he threatens Gilgamesh. He must be destroyed." >humbaba Perhaps it was a sign of weakness for the demon to plead for his life. Or was the creature wise not to fight to the death? >weakness "See how spineless this Humbaba is," you say with scorn. "He begs like a dog for his life when a true warrior spirit would have died with honor." "Perhaps so," the storyteller says with a strange smile, "but each one here should think of their own actions, were they held struggling by so proud a hero as Gilgamesh." Several in the crowd nod their heads at your words. >servant "Enkidu should not be so quick to slay this creature," you say. "Has he forgotten his own past? When he came to the city of Uruk, an uncivilized wild man covered in hair, he fought with Gilgamesh; but the King did not slay him. Gilgamesh made Enkidu his friend." "Enkidu was not a demon," Saiph breathes dangerously. "Enkidu did not threaten the people of Uruk. Enkidu was not evil." A current of energy runs through some in the crowd, who mutter affirmation with somber faces. Sihan gives you a quiet smile from across the fire. >trees "Humbaba offered the trees of the Cedar Forest to Gilgamesh and Enkidu?" you ask. "Yes," breathes the storyteller. "Humbaba the demon even offered to carry the timber back to Uruk." The storyteller continues. "Humbaba the demon called out in fear, 'Please, mighty heroes, do not slay Humbaba! I was set by Enlil, father of the gods, to guard over the forest. If you slay me he will be angry and his judgment severe.' "Gilgamesh heard the demon and again took pity on him, lowering his sword, but Enkidu cried out, 'Gilgamesh, do not listen to his words; close your ears! Kill the demon before you become confused. Kill him now before he can tell the gods anything. Kill him now and claim your fame!'" >pity Before you can speak, Saiph steps forward. "Enkidu has had a change of heart," Saiph says. "When once he opposed Gilgamesh in the quest to slay Humbaba, he now is more set on this mission than even Gilgamesh." The wind blows with a steady drone, like a backdrop to the teller's words. >pity "Curious," you say, "that mighty Gilgamesh, so strong and proud, would take pity on the creature in this way." "He has been through a great battle," says Saiph, "and the great windstorm has doubtless muddled his wits." >defending "A poor guard who lets intruders come inside and begin chopping down trees before attacking," you say. "Perhaps Humbaba should have been more vigilant when these heroes first entered his forest." The teller continues. "Gilgamesh looked into Enkidu's eyes," says the teller's powerful voice, "Gilgamesh, the King, looked into the eyes of his friend Enkidu and made his decision. He knew..." A gasp rises from the far side of the circle. Out of the darkness three dozen strangers appear, bearing long spears and faces painted with dark blue lines. It is the newcomers, the invaders in your valley, and as they approach your fire, the rain begins to fall. Amongst them one stands out: tall, with sharp features and a thick leather vest. You guess at once that he is their leader. >look 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. Your people cluster in fear on one side of the fire, staring back at the enemy warriors opposite them. The warrior leader steps out of the darkness and bares his teeth. "You will give us half your sheep," he says in a strange, harsh accent, "and half your grain. You will gift us these things or we will take them, now." The men behind him grip their spears tightly. >darkness "It is dark, and the sky storms," you say reasonably. "Can we not discuss this in the sun's bright rays?" "If we had come in the day you would have seen us three miles off, and we would receive only the points of your spears when we arrived," the leader says. "No; we will talk now." >half "That is more than we can spare," you say. "Have you no sheep of your own?" "We are strangers to these parts," says the leader. "The sheep here are skittish and fleet; the shepherds cannot catch them." He grips his spear firmly. "So you will gift us what we asked," he says. >gift "A gift under threat of force is no gift," you say. "It is a ransom." The warrior leader looks at you defiantly. "I care not what you call it," he says dangerously. "But if you do not bring it, now, I shall become angry." >spear The enemy looks to be about an even match--but perhaps they will respond to a show of force. >spear The enemy looks to be about an even match--but perhaps they will respond to a show of force. >even "Your spears are of fine make," you say, "not so different from ours. I think if our peoples were to fight, it would be a very close battle." The warrior leader's face stays fierce, but you see in his eyes he has thought the same. "We would not take this path," he says with heavy tones, "were there any other way. But the spear is the only way we have in this strange land where our shepherds cannot catch sheep." Lightning flashes across the bodies of the enemy warriors, who stand for an instant in brightest light before thunder and darkness settle over them once again. >force "Tell your companions to put their spears down," you say firmly, "or we will be forced to take action." The warrior leader's face darkens and he grips his spear tightly. "My people are also strong," he says coldly. "I ask you one last time. Either give us what we want; half your sheep and grain; or we shall raze your village to the ground." >shepherds "The skill to catch these sheep can be taught," you say. "We will teach you. Come in peace, and we will teach you to catch the sheep and share our grain with you." A twisted smile crosses the leader's face. "We have heard such offers before," he says, a bitter edge shaping his voice, "to come unarmed and helpless to the homes of enemies with sharpened spears and cruel daggers. Do you think us fools?" Saiph steps forward. "I've heard enough," he says calmly. "You will trouble us no longer." He raises his long spear above his head. The faces at that moment, friend and enemy framed by the swirling smoke, will be carved in your memory forever. Then, with screams, it begins. >look The fire is lost in the glut of bodies joined in combat, in the drizzle of rain, in the smoke and steam around you. >[Nothing entered.] >dagger The time is not right to speak about that. The leader's face appears out of the swirling crowd like a demon's. He strides towards you with terrible speed, his face an emotionless mask. With a cry, he plunges at you with his great spear, but you twist aside at the last moment. >look The fire is lost in the glut of bodies joined in combat, in the drizzle of rain, in the smoke and steam around you. The leader pulls back his muscled arm for another blow, but two combatants slam into him and a moment later he is swept back into the battle. >attack You grapple an enemy soldier charging for one of your cousins, giving him an opening to stab the warrior's throat with a dagger. As the enemy soldier falls to the ground you seize hold of his spear with sweaty hands. >attack You thrust your weapon at an enemy soldier. Your enemy pulls back and the point of your weapon grazes his arm, drawing only a thin line of blood. The leader's face appears out of the swirling crowd like a demon's. He strides towards you with terrible speed, his face an emotionless mask. Raising his arm, the enemy leader plunges at you with his great spear, but you deflect the blow with your weapon. >mock Whom do you want to mock? >mock leader "Half?" you say mockingly. "Beggars should not be so greedy. Why should we give you anything at all? We are strong, and do not fear your threats." "I have heard enough of your words," the leader snarls at you, and with a sudden twist of his hand thrusts a spear into one of your people. The faces at that moment, friend and enemy framed by the swirling smoke, will be carved in your memory forever. Then, with screams, it begins. >attack With all your strength, you attack an enemy soldier with fury. Metal slices his belly, and the warrior falls to the ground. The leader's face appears out of the swirling crowd like a demon's. He strides towards you with terrible speed, his face an emotionless mask. Screaming like a lion, your opponent stabs at you with his great spear, but you deflect the blow with your weapon. >attack You back away from the leader and lash out at another nearby warrior. The leader smiles contemptuously and turns to engage another of your village. You stab an attacker. You find your mark, and the warrior staggers and falls. >attack Shouting a war cry, you stab one of the strangers. The weapon slashes at your opponent's arm, and he gasps as a thick line of blood pours forth. Out of the chaos of battle a warrior spots you and lunges for you. You twist out of the way but too late; his spear plunges into your unprotected side. For a moment you feel cold, then your side feels steaming warm, and wet. You slump to the ground, feet and dirt swimming up to meet your face, but all turn to black before you reach them. blackness [Press any key to continue] You open your eyes to see red coals. Slowly, the dampness of the ground and the pain in your side become real and solid. You sit and, after a moment, stand. It seems you have survived another battle. A scattered few nurse wounds or stare vacantly into the embers, sitting on ground wet with rain and blood. >wait A gust of wind makes the ashes of the fire hiss. >look A scattered few nurse wounds or stare vacantly into the embers, sitting on ground wet with rain and blood. Sihan rushes up to you and embraces you fiercely. "You're alive," she says, "thank all the gods, you're alive. But wounded?" she adds with alarm, seeing the blood on your clothes with fear. "It is nothing," you say. "There are many here who have received far worse." >leader "The leader of the strangers is dead," you say. "Unless that was a trick of the shadows and firelight." "It is true," Sihan says. "His body has been taken by the truthsayer until it is decided what to do. I wish it had not come to this; but now the path of our people and his has been set." Sihan wipes a tear from her eyes. "There is sad news," she says. "The storyteller is dying; as are many others. But the storyteller asked to speak with you. You should hurry," she adds quietly, pointing towards the storyteller's tent near the edge of the village, "for there is not much time left to her." >dying "How deep is the wound?" you ask. "Not deep," Sihan says with a sad smile. "But deep enough, for one of Isi's age. She will not linger long now in this world. Hurry, love, to her tent, while there is still time." >tent You pull aside the flap of the teller's tent and step inside. A lamp burns low, its nearly-spent wick barely lighting up the storyteller's small tent. Nothing adorns the walls or brightens up the floor; all that is here is a small straw mat, on which the teller lies, breathing shallowly. >look A lamp burns low, its nearly-spent wick barely lighting up the storyteller's small tent. Nothing adorns the walls or brightens up the floor; all that is here is a small straw mat, on which the teller lies, breathing shallowly. The teller smiles at your arrival, and beckons you closer with a weak hand. You kneel by the old straw mat and grasp the cold fingers tightly. "I see you also have wounds this night," she says with effort. "I thank you for coming to me despite your hurt." The teller seems to look through your eyes to something hidden at the core of your being, and weigh it with great care. "The people did not hear the end of the story," she says presently. "For good or ill a great decision was made tonight, before the story was complete. Would you know how it ends?" >yes "Yes," you say, "I would hear the end of the story." The teller smiles and closes her eyes. "Gilgamesh faced a choice," she says quietly. "Whether to take pity on Humbaba and spare his life, or kill him, as his friend Enkidu counseled. Gilgamesh looked into Enkidu's eyes, and made his choice. He reached into the demon's throat and pulled out his insides, pulled them out of the demon's body by his tongue. Enkidu chopped off Humbaba's head, and the ground shook, and the forest trembled, and the soil ran with blood. And then it rained, it rained, it rained..." The storyteller trails off, eyes unfocused, as if lost in another world. After a long moment, she comes back and looks at you. "You are like Enkidu, in a way. Enkidu spoke, at first, for peace. When Gilgamesh told him of the quest to the Cedar Forest, Enkidu advised against it. Yet when they stood before Humbaba, his friend Enkidu was the one who urged Gilgamesh to slay him. Why did Enkidu change his mind?" >change "Thoughts change," you answer, "as do all things. Perhaps when Enkidu saw the demon Humbaba for himself he became convinced of his evil; perhaps the dreams of Gilgamesh or the winds of Shamash made Enkidu believe a god was on his side. A man who clutches to an old idea in the face of the changing world is a fool." "Wise words," murmurs the teller. "You see more in the story than many would. I wonder..." The teller coughs, but the cough turns to long, gasping chokes. >friend "Enkidu was loyal to Gilgamesh," you say, "to his friend. From the moment he swore to fight with Gilgamesh, his own thoughts and opinions were banished." "And where do your own loyalties lie?" the teller asks. "Saiph was most confused by your words. Remembering his face tonight makes an old woman smile; for that, at the very least, I thank you." The teller coughs, but the cough turns to long, gasping chokes. >hug isi Now is not the time for that. The storyteller coughs again, very, very weakly. There will be but a few more breaths, now, before the end. >look A lamp burns low, its nearly-spent wick barely lighting up the storyteller's small tent. Nothing adorns the walls or brightens up the floor; all that is here is a small straw mat, on which the teller lies, breathing shallowly. >talk to isi You wait patiently for the teller to collect her words. "I have one last gift for you," she says, her voice fading but still beautiful, "a choice you must make. You must make your decision not out of consideration for me, nor for Sihan, nor for any but yourself, for it is you who will walk the path this choice lays out, and you alone. There is no shame in refusing, for the ways to the path are many, and another will find it in time. But I think, perhaps, it is well-suited for you." The storyteller grips your hand tight, and summons up one final reserve of strength, holding your gaze with eyes that begin now to fade. "The teller must gather the people each time the moon dies," she says. "The teller must tell the stories to the people so the young will learn and the old not forget. The teller must teach the people who they are, and how to shape who they will be. Will you do these things? Will you become the storyteller?" >yes The teller sighs, and sinks back into her pillow, and your father's sister Isi lies before you once again. Peace slowly fills her pain-wracked face, and she mutters something as the old eyes close. You bend closer to hear. "You will tell the stories well, my child," Isi says in a voice softer than grass in the wind, "You will tell them well." The voice falls silent, then, and there is much darkness before the next story begins. [Press any key to continue] This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior woman, Sihan. On the night of the telling, when the healer's aunt Isi became the teller, their enemy Saiph tried his best to turn the people towards needless war with the outsiders. The healer spoke against this reckless path, and rallied the people as the story unfolded. Words flew between these two firebrands, but their rancor was too bitter and curdled to heal. The arrival out of the blackest night of the strange newcomers was the perfect end to the lesson of war, and spears and swords were soon red with blood. The battle was short, brutal, decisive. The healer and many of the people were wounded. And the teller lay dying, stabbed in the fight though she fought like a lion, and in her final moments called the healer to her side. She told the healer how the story ended, and whom the telling changed. A teller died and a teller was born, and the story will always guide the way. *** This telling has ended *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, or read the AFTERWORD? >afterword Thank you for interacting with "Whom The Telling Changed." If you haven't already, try playing again and pursuing a different path. There are many ways to experience this story, and many perspectives you may encounter: what you assumed to be right and wrong, good and evil with one play-through may not be as simple as you thought. Your very first action sets your course, but there are many ways to alter it as both stories progress, some surprising. The storyteller's tale is part of the Epic of Gilgamesh, the oldest story recorded by human history, originating in Sumeria more than 4,000 years ago. The specific words used by the teller are my own, a mishmash of various versions of the Humbaba story from Sumer, Babylon, and Akkadia. The quest of the Cedar Forest is only a small part of the full epic, which is well worth reading or re-reading. The setting of my frame story is not meant to be any more specific than somewhere in the Fertile Crescent, thousands of years ago, but to fill in the details of atmosphere and setting I am indebted to Karen Rhea Nemet-Nejat's book "Daily Life in Ancient Mesopotamia." The various translations of the Gilgamesh epic were also very useful: specifically, those of Mitchell, Ferry, and Gardner/Maier, all of which are beautiful and readable versions of the work. Thanks also to my beta testers James Cunningham, Michael Fransioli, and Henrik 'Drix' Jensen, to storyteller Beth Horner, and to the friends who helped me wrestle the very nebulous concept for this piece towards its final implementation. Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, or read the AFTERWORD? >restart