#The Scribe and the Sphinx

[stesierra]

Just for fun today, let's share something REALLY old (2014 or so.) If you've been following along reading my chapters, perhaps you'll be interested in seeing how I've improved! This is adult HISTORICAL fantasy, written when I had access to a college library and could get out the big academic books about this time period! Fun times but I've forgotten all my notes and would have to start over with research to rewrite it. So it will probably never happen!

The Scribe and the Sphinx

Chapter 1

Sudan, 340 AD.

It is so strange and unpleasant to be leaving.

My hand traces the engravings on the temple walls before me. My fingers dip into crevasses that mark a lion's roaring head, the head of a god. The temple is quiet around me, dust hanging in the sunbeams that pierce down through the high windows. I'll never see these walls again.

My objections to going home are not sensible, although I claim to be a sensible man. My colleagues satisfied themselves that all texts were found months ago and stopped coming. Most took the camel trains home to Bedewi, where there is a newer Lion Temple, still maintained and attended. But the reliefs in front of me have a power lacked by those decorating the temple at Bedewi. Apedemak's hand cuts down a fleeing enemy, his mouth open in a roar, his mane falling down over human shoulders. Lions cavort at his feet.

There is a noise, out of place and jarring in the silence: the lowing of cows and some animal clattering on the mud-brick road outside. I ignore it. "Great god, great of roaring, strong of arm," I mutter to myself, remembering hymns I have copied. I'll miss it here, among the images of the gods.

Dust tickles my nose, I sneeze, and the moment is broken. I turn away to survey the rest of the temple. A century ago, Aborepi was the jewel of upper Kush, and this small temple would have been richly attended. But now, as we all trickle away from the southern reaches of the nation, it lies untended. The kings and kandakes whose images bow before the gods on these walls are long dead. Most Kushites would not even know who they had been.

I've made records of these carvings, and their names, and collected the writings of the scribes of those times. Even if this part of Kush falls to the barbarian kingdoms to the south, Aborepi won't be forgotten. Not if I have anything to say about it.

I walk through the temple, my sandals loud against the stone floor. A small pile of broken tablets and torn parchments lies in a corner near my bags. This time, I have nothing to add to it. The pile looks tiny and insignificant beneath the carvings of the gods, but I've no regrets for wasting my morning finding these bits and pieces. These are the oldest documents I've found around Aborepi, jammed in corners and edges, long forgotten by the few people who still travel to worship here the way our ancestors did. The rest of the tablets and scrolls I've collected are already back at Tolkte, the nearest inhabited city.

I load this last armful and hoist the bag onto my back. With a last look at the Lion Temple, and a bow to my god, I turn to leave.

It is a short walk out. Every inch of the temple is carved with pictures that I've seen a hundred times before. I ignore them, but a single column near the door catches my eye as I pass. The sunbeam that comes in the window high above casts the relief on it into shadow and light. On the sandstone pillar, a lion with a woman's head and uplifted wings rends a fleeing antelope with her right front paw. On the sphinx's back, a man with a lion's head and the crown of a god stabs down with his spear and slays the antelope's mate. I've never seen a wild lion or a sphinx, and I wonder if I ever did whether Apedemak's hand would truly guide it, as legends say, or if it would swallow me whole and leave my scrolls scattered through the brush.

The front gate stands like a window against the sky, the door long rotted away. The sun is still low in the sky; I left Tolkte this morning to come here before it had properly risen in order to avoid the heat. As I walk through the doorway, for a moment the light strikes me just so that I can see nothing but the blood vessels of my eye against that red glare. When my vision clears, the twin lion statues outside that guard the door come into view. Between them stands a man that I do not know.

I freeze on the threshold as the sense of relaxation the quiet temple gave me flees like water through a drain. The stranger smiles at me, big and bold and unapologetic. His skin is nearly as black as my own, and his teeth are a white slash across his face.

I'm a three hour camel ride from the nearest habitation. He should not be here.

"Lord Scribe?" the stranger says, his white teeth still bared.

I back a step sideways from the door, putting the wall at my back. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't budge from the doorway, nor dim the intensity of his smile. "I've come from Tolkte to speak with you. The temple told me that you were headed this way." He wears a sturdy kilt, and he is less hungry-looking than many of the people still at Tolkte, but the edge to his face speaks of desperation, and he wears no wig at all over his shaven head. He looks a few years older than me, perhaps twenty-five. If I had seen him at Tolkte, I'd have thought him a beggar, but for the sword on his belt.

I take another step to the side. My only knife is at the bottom of my bag, but I wish it were in my hand. "And you couldn't wait to seek me when I returned this afternoon?"

He shrugs. "Ah. They told me also that you were leaving Tolkte soon, and I thought I should seize the opportunity, Lord Scribe."

I'm not leaving for days. Someone who has spoken with the temple should know that. "I am no lord."

"You're a priest, are you not? Closer to the gods than I? A servant to the people? I'm in need of a servant of the people."

I am a priest, yes, sworn to Apedemak and Thoth, but I'll not tell that to a man who accosts me in the wilderness. Besides, words have called to me more of late than service to anybody. "If you seek a blessing or aid with a hymn, the active temple is back at Tolkte."

His smile broadens, and he shakes his head. "No, no. I seek you. You are Dekeli? You're the collector of words, are you not? The one who listens to the stories of the herders and villagers and the Noba?"

I shift uncomfortably and take another step, since he hasn't stopped me. The edge of the building is not far away. The scrublands beyond are lined with nothing but small acacia trees and the stubble of what was once grass. The great enclosure to the north looms, far larger and more complex than this small temple, but there is nowhere within to hide from a man mad enough to pursue me from Tolkte. "I don't speak with the Noba."

"You trade for tablets and scrolls," he insists, although the Noba have neither.

This man hardly looks like he could inscribe his name. "You have a scroll?"

He shakes his head. "You do. One I will trade very well for."

Suddenly, the pack on my back feels vulnerable, and the wall behind me protective. "I'm not interested, and I don't have any of my scrolls or tablets with me."

He bobs his head at me. "Then I'll come back with you to Tolkte, and I will buy it there. Shall we walk to our camels?" He gestures behind him with a sweep of a well-muscled arm towards the huge, mostly full hafir that long-dead Kushites dug east of the Lion Temple and the great enclosure to the north.

My camel, Wdkid, is tied up near the water. Another camel, small and weedy, now stands beside him. A brown cow lounges between them, its ribs sharp, its belly sunken. The rest of its herd loiters farther down canal, their tails swishing the warm morning air.

I make a break for the camels, but the man jogs easily alongside me.

"Shall we ride back together?" he asks me.

Wdkid ignores me as I approach, his head glued to the water. I gasp, out of breath, "If you want scrolls or hymns written down, you ought to talk to my colleagues that are staying on in Tolkte. They have many skilled scribes there."

He shakes his head. "I want only a specific one. I'll pay you. I know that you have it. You hired my friend to help when you first came here. He saw it."

I start and grab for Wdkid's lead. I know the man he must be speaking of. Early on, before I had learned the way to Aborepi by heart, I hired local guides to bring me here and help carry back the things that we found. I've hired few people to assist me since, not trusting them to handle delicate things, and only one that could read well enough to identify a document to someone else. But I dismissed that man for attempting to steal from me, for tucking a tablet in his bags like a thief and lying that he had ever found it. I trust no one who references him.

I fling my pack up onto the simple stick frame of Wdkid's saddle and yank his lead free from the stake securing it. When I pull his head away from the hafir, he yawns at me and shakes his neck, but then he drops to his knobby, callused knees and suffers to let me mount. As he lurches back to his feet, I stare down at the man. He stands with his hands on his hips, looking up at me with lifted eyebrows.

Up on the camel, some four feet above the man's head, I feel secure. My voice sharpens. "I have collected those artifacts to preserve the history of this place. I will not sell one for any item you could possess!"

The man's lips press tightly together. I pull on Wdkid's reins, too hard, and turn him southeast towards Tolkte. I drive the camel harder than I have ever done and do not look back to see if the man is following me.

***

The city of Tolkte, as I arrive in the early afternoon, is surrounded by camels and a handful of horses. Wdkid lengthens his stride at the sight of them, jouncing me about on his back and rattling the bags of tablets that hang off his sides. I thump the hump beneath me, and he slows back to a brisk trot.

The day is warm now that the sun is high, but there are people and camels all around the city, swarming like an army of termites around a rain-ruined mound. I've not seen so many since the great trains of traders that passed between kingdoms stopped coming, nearly three years ago. It's puzzling activity, frantic but clearly purposeful. After my encounter with the strange man, it makes me nervous. I survey the train and spot a caravan master I know in the middle of the mess. I frown. I've paid the same man to escort me back to Bedewi in two day's time. There's no way he should be preparing to leave. I give Wdkid his head and bear a few more minutes of his neck-rattling gait before he reaches the crowd.

I guide Wdkid into the press of people, confident his size will let us push through. He has a bad habit, which I was the only reason I bought him so cheap, of shoving people with his neck when they come too close to him. I trained him out of doing it to me, mostly with bribes, but he's not so gentle with strangers. We wade into the crowd like a lion through brush.

After being cursed at for the sixth time and Amun's name being invoked against me and my pestilent camel for the third, I reach the side of the caravan master. His broad back is turned to me as he argues with some of the men under his command. One, I remember, is named Bleli. The tall, lithe man is a good-natured second to the harsher caravan master, whose name escapes me. Bleli sees me up on Wdkid's saddle, clinging like a tick to a dog's back. He smiles, but the smile is strained at the edges.

I order Wdkid to cush and hop down from his back when the camel kneels. A couple of long strides, and I confront the pair. I'm not quite as tall as Bleli, but I have the breadth on him, and if I haven't the caravan master's bulk, at least I am taller. "What is all this commotion? You can't be planning a trip before our departure. You'd hardly have time to get back before we left."

At the sound of my voice, the caravan master turns slowly, his hands creeping up to rest on his hips. He's a big man. His belly fat, bronze armlets and fine black wig suggest he is very successful at parting people from their trade goods. But his kilt looks too big on him now, and he's tightened his rope belt past its first notch and tied it shut. He narrows his eyes at me, and a muscle twitches in his cheek. "Not before your departure, no." He jerks his head towards Bleli. "Talk to him and explain things. I have people to oversee." He strides away, leaving me alone with Bleli, and the rest of his men trail after him like camels in a chain.

Bleli tugs at a lock of his curly black hair, which is real hair, unlike his master's. His head is unshaven and covered in shoulder-length locks, as the herders and poorest of farmers keep it, and he has a mustache and beard. I wonder whether he came from such a poor background, or if he simply keeps too busy to maintain proper hygiene. My own hair, already long enough to curl about my ears, is in bad need of a trim.

"Dekeli," Bleli says. "You're late. We were just discussing our plans. It is good that you've come in time."

I frown at him and hang onto Wdkid's lead as he's jostled by passersby and jolts up to his feet in response. "Late? The sun is still well up. The moon doesn't yet peek over the horizon. I think that I'm home well in time to stop by the temple and have a good dinner."

His slight grimace unnerves me. "You're late," he repeats. "If you had come another hour later, we would have left without you."

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@palebdot

@hyba

@da-na-hae

@macabremoons

@the-dragon-chronicler

[thepastisalreadywritten]

TODAY IN HISTORY

10 August 1793

The Louvre opened in Paris, eventually becoming the most visited museum in the world.

Check out the most famous works in the Louvre below! 👇🏼🧵

The Code of Hammurabi — 1750 BC

Venus de Milo — 2nd century BC

Winged Victory of Samothrace — 190 BC

Liberty Leading the People — 1830

The Raft of the Medusa — 1819

The Coronation of Napoleon — 1807

Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss — 1793

(L): The Seated Scribe — 2500 BC

(R): The Great Sphinx of Tanis — 2600 BC

Mona Lisa — between 1503 and 1506

[nemo-in-wonderland]

☪️ ZIL-E-QAMAR | FIEND WARLOCK | SELDARINE DROW ☪️

Name: Zil-e-Qamar

Nickname: Zil, Ya Qamar (only Halim called her so)

Title: The Scorching Mirage

Alias: Aranea Baelfaer

Age: ≅275 Years Old (She never disclosed her real age to anyone)

Birthplace: Menzoberranzan, Underdark Hometown: Huzuz, The City of Delight

Current Residence: She is wandering Faerun without a fixed place, collecting souls as she goes. When not on the Material Plane, she resides in Mephistar.

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Race: Seldarine Drow

Class: Warlock - The Fiend

Profession/job: Before the great tragedy that apprehended her life and forced her to flee to Faerun, she worked as a Scribe for the Grand Vizier Alyana al-Azzazi, a job she was immensely proud of. Visual particular traits: Standing at 183 cm barefoot, Zil is abnormally tall for a drow, and this is an anomaly for which she has no answer to give. Scent: Oud, Rose, Sandalwood, Saffron, Amber. Subsequently, sulfur and brimestone.

Colours/symbols associated with: The Colours of the Desert at Night; The White Heron that flew at dusk; The Sphinx whose riddles couldn’t be solved and whose smile couldn’t be understood.

Languages: Midani (mothertongue), Jaanti, Kadari, Infernal Language, Common Language, she is learning Undercommon.

Accent?: Before moving to Huzuz to embark on her studies at the Al-Bidr Sallah University, she spent her childhood and early teen years in Ajayib, the City of Wonders. Therefore, she spoke Midani with the regional accent of the Pearl Cities. Her accent translates even when she speaks the Common Language, immediately clocking her as not native of Faerun.

Tropes they embody: “Determinator”,” Implacable Woman”, “Deadpan Snarker”, “The Juggernaut”, “Broken Bird”, “Heartbroken Badass”, “Be Careful What You Wish For”, “Lady of Black Magic”, “Addicted to Magic”, “Dark Action Girl”, “Revenge Before Reason”, “The Dreaded”, ”Noble Demon”, ”Troubled Past”, “The Unfettered”, “Excessive Mourning”, “Long-Range Fighter”, “Love Makes you Evil,” “Roaring Rampage of Revenge”, “Squishy Wizard”, “Tragic Heroine”, “Tranquil Fury”, “Trauma Button”, “Violently Protective Girlfriend”, “Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds", "Cry for the Devil". Personality: Determinate, Curious, Mischievous, Resilient, Resourceful, Intuitive, Loyal toward those she loves, Secretive, Mysterious, Empathetic, Charming, Charismatic, Seductive, Ambitious, Prideful, Focused to the point of Obsession, Stubborn, Manipulative, Vengeful, Can become ruthless is pushed, Emotionally Withdrawn, Short-Tempered. Detailed Backstory: Zil-e-Qamar was the adopted daughter of Valakos and Breessa, a couple of Faerûnian tiefling merchants who permanently resided in Ajayib, the City of Wonders in the Land of Fate Zakhara. Zil had a childhood of relative comfort and ease, not wanting for anything. Ever a curious child, sometimes too nosy for her own good, she spent her childhood between school, helping her parents with trading and inventorying the goods they received from Faerûn, and exploring the caves upon which the city had been built. She was a brilliant young woman, with an incandescent personality and a silver tongue and cheeky personality that could easily charm the people around her. She wouldn't take “no” for an answer, especially when embarking on a quest to discover and learn about all manner of topics, though her interest always dwelled on Magic and all its different aspects and how they intertwined and connect.

Ajayib, despite being the cradle that sweetly protected her throughout her most tender years, had very little to offer to her ever-growing thirst for knowledge. Soon enough, she made preparations to move to the Capital of the Land of Fate, Golden Huzuz. After being admitted to the Home of the Seekers of Knowledge, the Great University of Al-Bidir Sallah in the City of Delight, she enrolled in the College of Magic to expand upon her knowledge and understanding of how magic worked. She was a hardworking student, with her nose always buried in any book she could put her hands on. It was around this time that she became a devotee of Zann the Learned, the God that oversaw Learning and Intelligence.

Eventually, under the advice of Imam Renn min Zann, her mentor at the University, she sought to learn more about who she was and where she stood in the world. She enrolled for a period in the College of Fine Arts, taking classes about non-Zakharan history and costumes in the hope of discovering more about her origins. After graduating and deciding to continue her studies as a scholar, she took up the position of Scribe for the Imam, and it was during that time that she met Halim Ibn Tariq, a well-renowned Sha'ir and Vizier of Huzuz, advisor to Grand Vizier Alyana al-Azzazi, in a diplomatic visit to the University to report of its state to the Grand Vizier.

Having been assigned to be the Vizier’s guide, Zil found herself intrigued by this physically imposing yet apparently kind and soft-spoken man, who had all the authority that was expected of a man of his station and background, yet possessed none of the arrogance, a man of exceptional moral strength and vivacious intelligence, known for his even temper and warm laughter.

On his side, Halim also found himself fascinated by the young drow, the first he ever had the chance to speak with in his life, with her pale eyes always twinkling with curiosity, her insatiable need for knowledge, and her mischievous way of flirting with him. He found her company pleasant and when away for his duties, he found himself unable to stop thinking about her and her beguiling, infectious smile. Despite their mutual interest, they both believed that, due to the Vizier’s busy life and Zil’s own duties, the few meetings they had at the University were destined to remain as such. Yet, Halim extended an invitation to her to seek him out if she ever needed anything, either a favour or even just his company. Little did Halim know about Zil’s own resilience and way of making things happen the way she wanted. Zil applied to become a Scribe in the service of Grand Vizier Al-Azzazi, to be closer to the man who had completely captivated her. She obtained the position, thanks to her own merits and partially thanks to the good recommendation of the Imam. In time, Zil and Halim became friends and started to spend more and more time together, their mutual attraction growing and blossoming like the beautiful lilies that bloomed in the pans surrounding Hazuz when the rains blessed the city. It grew until being far away from each other felt more torturous than standing underneath the ruthless Zakharan Sun at noon without shade.

With the blessing of the Grand Caliph himself, they married and spent more than 40 years of blissful happiness. But the Court of Enlightenment was not devoid of intrigue, and Halim, with his progressive philosophies and advocacy to abolish the common practice of trading slaves, had drawn upon itself the malcontent of the slave owners in the Caravan District. He had fallen victim to a ploy that resulted in an incrimination for corruption and bribery.

Zil knew that her husband was innocent, having worked closely with him for all those years, and tried with all the means she had available to find who was behind all that scheming and bring them to justice to clear her husband’s name. But before she could do anything of substance, she was apprehended and charged with the accusation of being complicit and accessory to all of Halim’s crimes. Despite all her efforts, despite all her begging, she couldn’t find the resources she needed fast enough, and the accusations against her husband transmuted from corruption to treason that warranted a death sentence without appeal.

All Zil could do was witness the execution from her cell, not leaving her husband’s eyes for one moment, not even when the blade of the executioner came down and shattered her entire heart in the process.

Alone in her damp cell, shell-shocked and broken, Zil waited all night for her own sentence to pass, wishing with all her might that the moment would come soon enough so that she could be reunited with her husband once more. But, much to her dismay, during the darkest hour that preceded the arrival of dawn, the Grand Vizier herself showed up in her cell, maintaining complete secrecy.

All she carried with her was a note, carved in her husband’s handwriting, and the promise that, as a last favor to Halim, she would see Zil out of Huzuz safely. Zil escaped her own death, thanks to her husband’s foresight and protection, and fled away from the Golden City and beyond Zakhara, finally reaching distant Faerûn.

After Halim’s death, Zil assumed a new name, Aranea Baelfaer, and turned to every god and goddess in the pantheon, begging, imploring, and beseeching all of them to grant her the power to vindicate her husband and to see him one last time. But all her prayers and supplications fell into a deafening silence that reeked of contempt. Enraged with the gods for letting something like this befall a man as virtuous, kind, and compassionate as her husband, she didn’t give up and persistently sought the means to gain the power she needed, her mind and resolve sharpened by grief and rage.

Her obsession and focus would reach such heights that they resonated all across the Weave until they attracted the Patron who would finally answer her call and grant her the power she desired: Mephistopheles. Most treasured possession: Her husband’s jambiya dagger and a lock of his dark hair that she wore braided in her own; the last letter that he wrote her, that she re-read every single night before going to sleep.

Sexual and/or romantic situation: After Halim’s death, she decided to forgo any kind of romantic relationship, absolutely refusing to run the risk of facing the same type of pain she went through when her husband was killed. In her grief, she asked Mephistopheles to actually freeze her heart, putting it in a stasis. As a wager between the two of them, Mephistopheles added a small clause that declared if someone were ever able to thaw her frozen heart, she would lose her powers, her soul would be his and the contract would be considered fulfilled regardless of whether she had reached her vengeance or not. Zil humored him, secure in her belief that no one on Toril would ever be able to ever ignite the flame in her dead heart again. Last famous words indeed. Favourite place in Faerûn: She doesn’t truly have one. She finds Faerun excessively cold and humid. But if she were to choose one, it would be the Great Harbor of Waterdeep, from where she can see the City. What makes them happiest: She likes to create small illusions of her memories of her years in Zakhara and stare at them, wishing with all her might that they were more than just echoes from a distant time.   What makes them angriest: Any uncalled mentioning of her late husband was enough to provoke at best a death glare and at worst an outburst of pure ire. She didn’t appreciate talking about her past or about him with anyone, for her memories of him are hers and hers alone. What makes them laugh: She rarely laughed from the heart. But something that did make her laugh and gave her comfort was hearing children’s laughter. It reminded her of simpler times. Biggest secret: Who her Patron is and the terms and conditions of her pact with him. Obsession: Revenge. She sold her soul to Mephistopheles in order to gain the power she needed to grow as powerful as she needed to be and hunt down and kill whoever was involved in Halim’s betrayal and death. If the Gods didn’t want to help her in the path of vengeance, then the might of the Archdevils would.

soooo.

While on vacation, I had sometime to properly sit down and finally write Aranea's (or should I say Zil's?) proper bio, alongside working on her infographic (and I am SO HAPPY with how it turned out. I love doing this kind of things, I have done so many that I haven't shared lol).

I still need to add a few things as I keep playing the game, which is the reason why I haven't written anything about her current relationship with Gale, the other companions, or the Dream Guardian. But as I proceed, I will update this (or make another post, we shall see) and fill in what is missing.

In the meantime, thank you for reading her profile and I hope you will love this brainchild of mine just as much as I love her <3

--Nemo

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template by @arcandoria; abridged profile template by @lairofsentinel)

[a-modernmajorgeneral]

Almost everyone has seen this image of the Seated Scribe. Located on the upper floor of the Department of Egyptian Antiquities, this is the most famous of unknown figures. We know nothing about the person portrayed: neither his name, nor title, nor even the exact period during which he lived. Nevertheless, this statue never fails to impress visitors discovering it for the first time.

A specific posture

The Louvre's scribe, known as the "Seated Scribe", is indeed sitting cross-legged, his right leg crossed in front of his left. The white kilt, stretched over his knees, serves as a support. He is holding a partially rolled papyrus scroll in his left hand. His right hand must have held a brush, now missing. The most striking aspect of this sculpture is the face, particularly the elaborately inlaid eyes: they consist of a piece of red-veined white magnesite, in which a piece of slightly truncated rock crystal was placed. The front part of the crystal was carefully polished. The back side was covered with a layer of organic material, creating the color of the iris and also probably serving as an adhesive. The entire eye was then held in the socket by two large copper clips welded on the back. A line of black paint defines the eyebrows. The hands, fingers, and fingernails are sculpted with a remarkable delicacy. His chest is broad and the nipples are marked by two wooden dowels. The statue was cleaned in 1998, although the process merely reduced the wax overpainting. This restoration brought out the well-conserved ancient polychromy.

An unknown figure

The semicircular base on which the figure sits must have originally fit into a larger base that carried his name and titles, such as the base for the statue of Prince Setka, exhibited in room 22 of the Louvre. This base is missing, and the context of the discovery does not provide any additional information. According to the archeologist Auguste Mariette, who found the work, the statue of the scribe was apparently discovered in Saqqara on 19 November 1850, to the north of the Serapeum's line of sphinxes. But the precise location is not known; unfortunately, the documents concerning these excavations were published posthumously, the excavation journals had been lost, and the archives were scattered between France and Egypt. Furthermore, the site had been pillaged and ransacked, and no information concerning the figure's identity could be provided. Some historians have tried to link it to one of the owners of the statues discovered at the same time. The most convincing of these associates the scribe to Pehernefer. Certain stylistic criteria, such as the thin lips, which was unusual, the form of the torso, and the broad chest could support this theory. The statue of Pehernefer dates from the 4th Dynasty. This is an additional argument in favor of an earlier dating for this statue, which has sometimes been dated to the 6th Dynasty. Another argument supporting this date is that "writing" scribes were mostly created in the 4th and early 5th Dynasties; after this period, most scribes were portrayed in "reading" poses.

A scribe at work

The scribe is portrayed at work, which is unusual in Egyptian statuary. Although no king was ever portrayed in this pose, it seems that it was originally used for members of the royal family, such as the king's sons or grandsons, as was the case for the sons of Didufri (4th Dynasty), who were represented in this position.

[agentrouka-blog]

Rouka Reads: The World of Ice and Fire - Preface

We meet our hero, the brave author of the book, maester Yandel!

Let’s begin with some nice The Builder metaphors on the subject of learning!

IT IS SAID with truth that every building is constructed stone by stone, and the same may be said of knowledge, extracted and compiled by many learned men, each of whom builds upon the works of those who preceded him. What one of them does not know is known to another, and little remains truly unknown if one seeks far enough. Now I, Maester Yandel, take my turn as mason, carving what I know to place one more stone in the great bastion of knowledge that has been built over the centuries both within and without the confines of the Citadel—a bastion raised by countless hands that came before, and which will, no doubt, continue to rise with the aid of countless hands yet to come.

I like him. I mean, he may just be good with words, but I like the community aspect he is leaning into here. 

Pro: The accumulation of knowledge is most definitely teamwork through the passage of time, and you can live many lives and travel vast distances in your mind through the power of the written word.

Con: If you’re going to be writing a book about the entire world, you may want to have seen at least a little of it, maybe? Yandel trying to make sure he is as unbiased as possible by making sure he knows equally little about Westeros through his own experience as he knows about Essos and the rest of the known world. 

Because he has literally never left Oldtown and spent his entire life in the Citadel from birth. 

I was a foundling from my birth in the tenth year of the reign of the last Targaryen king, left on a morning in an empty stall in the Scribe’s Hearth, where acolytes practiced the art of letters for those who had need. 

That would have been around 272, ten years after Jaehaerys II died, thirteen years after Summerhall and the birth of one Rhaegar Targaryen. Yandel isn’t even thirty yet. He’s a baby!

The Scribe’s Hearth:

The gates of the Citadel were flanked by a pair of towering green sphinxes with the bodies of lions, the wings of eagles, and the tails of serpents. One had a man's face, one a woman's. Just beyond stood Scribe's Hearth, where Oldtowners came in search of acolytes to write their wills and read their letters. Half a dozen bored scribes sat in open stalls, waiting for some custom. At other stalls books were being bought and sold.

(AFFC, Samwell V)

I wonder who placed him there. A spot frequented by acolytes, the same demographic known to prance about Oldtown, getting drunk on fearsomely strong cider and visiting brothels if they have the money. Could a woman have just walked in there with a baby in her arms and left without it during early business hours, hidden among the people perusing the wares? Or was it a man? An acolyte familiar with the place? The father?

Actually that was about the year Obara was born, too. Wild times in Oldtown, but a nicer fate for Yandel.

The course of my life was set that day, when I was found by an acolyte who took me to the Seneschal of that year, Archmaester Edgerran. Edgerran, whose ring and rod and mask were silver, looked upon my squalling face and announced that I might prove of use. When first told this as a boy, I took it to mean he foresaw my destiny as a maester; only much later did I come to learn from Archmaester Ebrose that Edgerran was writing a treatise on the swaddling of infants and wished to test certain theories.

I love this. 

Yandel: Did he sense my destiny??

Edgerran: Free infant test subject, and I didn’t even have to be unethical about it! Score!

(Silver represents medicine.)

Ebrose is still around, giving lectures on urine to the Oldtown gang and giving Pate a failing grade! 

But inauspicious as that may seem, the result was that I was given to the care of servants and received the occasional attention of maesters. I was raised as a servant myself amongst the halls and chambers and libraries, but I was given the gift of letters by Archmaester Walgrave. 

Awww. Hi, Walgrave! Good to know he was nice to kids back when his mind was still 100%. I wonder what prompted him to teach the kid to read. Was Yandel a bit of a beloved mascot, having been raised at the Citadel?

Thus did I come to know and love the Citadel and the knights of the mind** who guarded its precious wisdom. I desired nothing more than to become one of them—to read of far places and long-dead men, to gaze at the stars and measure the passing of the seasons.

Rarely do characters in this series fulfill their dreams so easily.

Also interesting that the kid raised among “knights guarding wisdom” (from whom?) in a complex named for defensive fortifications, who probably rarely spent time outside it, is writing a book primarily aimed at the “humble”. Trying to smuggle that wisdom out, in a way.

** Luwin shout-out:

"There are some who call my order the knights of the mind," Luwin replied. "You are a surpassing clever boy when you work at it, Bran. Have you ever thought that you might wear a maester's chain? There is no limit to what you might learn." (AGOT, Bran IV)

Bran was not interested, but he ends up assembling vital historical knowledge nevertheless. 

And so I did. I forged the first link in my chain at three-and-ten, and other links followed. I completed my chain and took my oaths in the ninth year of the reign of King Robert, the First of His Name, and found myself blessed to continue at the Citadel, to serve the archmaesters and aid them in all that they did. 

What a nerd! At thirteen! That would have been in 285, two years into Robert’s reign, and it took him seven years until 292 to finish his degree forge his chain. He was 20 then. 

They did not send this little low-born prodigy out to serve at any castle, they kept him at the Citadel. Interesting. 

So basically, watching Robert Baratheon’s reign has been Yandel’s thing for the duration of his academic career and he dedicated his Big Book to him his son Tommen: 

I wonder what his purpose with this book is. 

It was a great honor, but my greatest desire was to create a work of mine own, a work that humble but lettered men might read—and read to their wives and children—so that they would learn of things both good and wicked, just and unjust, great and small, and grow wiser as I had grown wiser amidst the learning of the Citadel. 

He’s writing a book for humble but lettered men - and their families. Going on the assumption he is not trying to insult highborn men without a Citadel education by implying they are intellectually humble, he may truly intend for this book to be read by a wider audience than merely those who have access to maester’s libraries, an audience who conduct their own education by reading amid their family? Lower nobility or even the wealthy merchant class? Not sure how feasible this is in a world without a movable type printing press, but I like his approach. 

And so I set myself to work once more at my forge, to make new and notable matter around the masterworks of the long-dead maesters who came before me. What follows herein sprang from that desire: a history of deeds gallant and wicked, peoples familiar and strange, and lands near and far.

Likening himself to the Smith, the face of the Seven most associated with the smallfolk. 

Comrade Yandel, you have my ear. 

Next up: The Dawn Age

[rosesinspirationandreference]

1. Sabotage 2. Sacrament 3. Sacred 4. Sacrifice 5. Sacrilege 6. Sadness 7. Safe 8. Safeguard   9. Sailor 10. Saltwater

11. Salvage 12. Salvation 13. Sanctuary 14. Sand 15. Sanity   16. Sapphire 17. Sarcasm 18. Satellite 19. Satisfaction 20. Saturday 21. Savage 22. Save 23. Saviour 24. Scalding 25. Scale 26. Scandalous 27. Scare 28. Scarlet 29. Scarred 30. Scattered 31. Scenery 32. Scent 33. Scholar 34. School 35. Science 36. Scrapbook   37. Scratch 38. Scream 39. Scribe 40. Scrolls 41. Sculptor 42. Scythe   43. Sea 44. Seance 45. Search 46. Seashells 47. Seatbelts 48. Seclusion 49. Second 50. Secret 51. Security 52. Seduce 53. Seeds 54. Seeking 55. Selfish 56. Senile 57. Sensational 58. Senseless 59. Sentences 60. Sentimental 61. Separate 62. Serendipity 63. Serpent 64. Servant 65. Shackle 66. Shadow 67. Shallow 68. Shame 69. Shameless 70. Shampoo   71. Shards   72. Share 73. Shatter 74. Shaving 75. Sheet 76. Shelter 77. Shenanigans 78. Shield 79. Shifting 80. Shine 81. Shirt 82. Shock 83. Shooting 84. Short 85. Shoulder 86. Shower 87. Shrieks 88. Shrine 89. Shrouded 90. Shuffle 91. Shy 92. Sibling 93. Sick 94. Sight 95. Sightseeing 96. Signal 97. Signed 98. Silence 99. Silhouette 100. Silk 101. Silver 102. Similarities 103. Simplicity 104. Sincere 105. Sinful   106. Sing 107. Singularity 108. Sinister 109. Sinking 110. Size 111. Skeleton 112. Sketch 113. Skies 114. Skiing 115. Skipping 116. Slapped 117. Slave 118. Slaying 119. Sleepless 120. Sleepover 121. Slice 122. Slick 123. Slide   124. Slipping 125. Slither 126. Sloppy 127. Slow 128. Small 129. Smile 130. Smirk 131. Smitten   132. Smoke 133. Smooth 134. Smudge 135. Snacks 136. Snapped 137. Snapshot 138. Snared 139. Snarling 140. Sneak 141. Snow 142. Snowblind 143. Snowbound 144. Snuggle 145. Soaked 146. Soap 147. Soar 148. Society 149. Soft 150. Solace 151. Solar 152. Soldiers 153. Solemn 154. Solitaire 155. Solitude 156. Solution 157. Somebody 158. Someday 159. Somewhere 160. Sonnets 161. Soothing 162. Sorcerer 163. Sorrow 164. Sorry 165. Soul 166. Soulmate 167. Sound 168. Sourpuss 169. Souvenir   170. Space 171. Spark 172. Sparkle 173. Speak 174. Special 175. Specialists 176. Spectator 177. Speechless 178. Speed 179. Spellbound   180. Spending 181. Sphinx 182. Spice 183. Spies   184. Spiral 185. Spirit 186. Split 187. Spoils 188. Spontaneous 189. Spooky 190. Spooning 191. Spotlight 192. Spring 193. Spying 194. Square 195. Squeak 196. Squeezed 197. Stab 198. Stability 199. Stage 200. Stagnant 201. Stained 202. Stairway 203. Stakeout 204. Stalemate 205. Stalker   206. Stamina 207. Stance 208. Stand   209. Standard 210. Star 211. Star-crossed 212. Stargazing   213. Starting 214. Startled 215. Starve 216. Static 217. Stay 218. Steady 219. Steal 220. Stealth 221. Steel 222. Stereotypes 223. Stickers 224. Stigmatize   225. Stitches 226. Stoic 227. Stole   228. Stone 229. Stop 230. Storm   231. Stranded 232. Strange 233. Strawberries 234. Stray   235. Street 236. Strength 237. Stress   238. Stretching 239. Stricken 240. Strictly 241. Strike   242. Strings 243. Striving 244. Strolling 245. Struggle 246. Stubble 247. Stubborn 248. Stuck 249. Students 250. Study 251. Stupid 252. Subconscious 253. Subdued   254. Subject 255. Subliminal 256. Submerge 257. Submission   258. Substitute 259. Subtle 260. Subway 261. Success 262. Succumb 263. Suddenly 264. Suffer 265. Suggestive 266. Summer 267. Summon 268. Sunbathing   269. Sunbeams 270. Sunburn 271. Sunflower 272. Sunkissed 273. Sunlight 274. Sunrise 275. Superficial 276. Superhero   277. Superiority 278. Supernatural 279. Supernova 280. Superstition 281. Support 282. Surface 283. Surprise 284. Surrender 285. Surveillance 286. Survival   287. Swagger 288. Swamp 289. Swapped 290. Sway 291. Sweat 292. Sweet 293. Swimming 294. Switchblade 295. Sword 296. Sworn 297. Symbol 298. Sympathy 299. Synchronicity 300. Synergy

[brooklynmuseum]

This week’s Dig Diary will be mostly about restoring the column in the Mut Temple’s East Porch. The work is painstaking and requires skill and concentration, as you can in the faces of Abdel Aziz and Mohamed Jad. But we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves.

Last week we showed you the fallen column in the East Porch. We eventually had to move the column drums to excavate beneath them, so this is how the area looked until this year.

On January 30, Mr. Sa’adi Zahi Abdullah, head of restoration for Luxor/Upper Egypt (left); and Mr. Mohamed Jad Ahmed Jad, head of restoration for Karnak (beside Sa’adi), came to the site to study the column to see if restoring them was feasible. They agreed it could be done and have undertaken the project.

First we had to remove the fragmentary column drum from the base and clean up the area around it so that the restoration work could begin. Like many ancient Egypt columns, the base is made of two semi-circular blocks, which are easier to deal with than large, round ones.

The lowest column drum in the East Porch is missing, so new rectangular stone blocks were brought in from East Karnak. (We thank Mustapha Saghir, SCA Director for Karnak, for making this stone available to us.) On Sunday morning, a truck brought the stone to the precinct gate, but from there it had to be wheeled in by hand.

Master stonemason Sayid Ahmed Mohamed Sebbak and his assistant use both an electric saw and a hammer to rough-cut the blocks to approximately the right size. Then Sayid used a string and pen to scribe the diameter of the finished block.

Using only a heavy, toothed chisel, Sayyid shaped the rough block into a precise semi-circle. This is all done by eye. With the right angle (leaning against the block) he makes sure that the corner where the straight edge of the block meets the top and bottom is precisely 90°. Modern Egyptian stonemasons are every bit as skilled as their ancient counterparts.

By noon on Sunday, both halves of the new column drum were in place and Sayid was almost ready with the first stone of the next course. The blocks are lifted into position using a siba: a winch supported by a metal framework along with the blocks can be moved.

By the end of the day on Monday the second new column drum was in place. Getting the first of the ancient column drums up was more of a challenge as it probably weighs a couple of tons and is not exactly easy to move. In fact, it was so heavy that the siba had to be reinforced by another metal bar, being held in place by one of the workmen.

By now the column was too tall for the siba, so on Tuesday the conservators and workers built a scaffold to lift the remaining blocks. The third ancient block went up on Wednesday morning.

And the fourth block was lifted into position on Wednesday afternoon after we had left for the day. We thank Abdel Aziz for this photograph of the block being lowered into place. As you can see, some of the blocks are quite damaged. They will be repaired once all the column drums are up.

While all this was going on, the digging continued. In the north square, Mamdouh has cleared all the limestone rubble and we can now definitely confirm that we have a sphinx base. You are looking northeast across the square as it was on Thursday afternoon. The sphinx base is clear, and we have later sandstone paving in the southeast corner and just to the west of the limestone. A second patch of limestone is appearing in the northwest corner of the square, but we don’t know what it is yet.

Ayman has cleared the corridor for much of its length, as you can see in this view to the east. Regrettably no paving or flooring is preserved, the whole space being filled with broken sandstone and limestone blocks, some decorated but most not.

Jaap is holding one of the blocks from the corridor, showing the lower part of a face. He and Richard are discussing the sculpture’s date; they have not come up with a decision yet.

This is the view of Karnak that we see every day as we walk to work along the avenue of rams. The whole expanse of Karnak is now visible, from the First Pylon on the left to the southeast corner of the enclosure (just out of the shot – sorry). It’s a spectacular view!

Posted by Richard Fazzini and Mary McKercher

[thealmightyemprex]

*A sphinx with the head of an older woman lounges sourrounded by bones *

Dimitra:Oh hello .I am Dimitra the sphinx .The scribe has requested I answer your questions.However I am *Licks lips* ravenous so be careful how many you ask

@ariel-seagull-wings @themousefromfantasyland @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @scarletblumburtonofeastlondon

[philoursmars]

Au Louvre-Lens, il y avait une expo fort intéressante : “Champollion - La Voie des Hiéroglyphes”, sur l’homme, son époque, l’image de l’Egypte en Europe avant l’Egyptologie....

- chapiteau hathorique - Dendéra, temple d'Hathor, époque Ptolémaïque, 330-30 av. J-C.

- les 2 suivantes : Sekhmet assise - Karnak, temple de Mout, Nouvel Empire, 1380 av. J-C.

- Antoine-Guillaume Grandjacquet - "Osiris”

- statue conique du scribe Méryiounou - Memphis, Nouvel Empire, 1250 av. J-C

- .Isis-Hathor allaitant - Basse époque,  475-332 av. J-C.

- les 2 dernières : Sphinx - 6664-332 av. J-C.  (tête italienne)

[krishu213]

Latest stream. Tablet of Iset. Vlad's answers.(26/05/2023)

In the past appearance, Thoth looked older, more chthonic.

We will definitely find out about the manuscript that Cafle asked for advice later (paid choice from the dialogue with the Caretaker in the library - Thoth).

We will have a chance to meet the beautiful Sphinx.

That Thrice Great is a reference to his rebirth as Hermes. Vlad offered to google.

Thoth's palette is a scribe's palette for writing on papyrus.

"shb!" from Seth is an ancient Egyptian mate.

The gods do not hide the divine names, they are known to many, just an oath by the true name has more weight for a god.

Soon there will be many interactions with Anubis.

Set will probably wear a mask similar to Anubis's. This is a spoiler.

By divine power, all gods are equal, the issue is that not everyone can use it.

Instead of Anubis, in the first version there was a mortal favorite, whose features were eventually divided between the current favorites.

Keyfla and Atsu can be friends. Can't be reduced.

In the next update there will be 2 SI series.

Who is more difficult to prescribe: a god or a mortal? - Equally.

The gates of Bath are still closed, so we went to Thoth first.

Is the story of Keifl's mother related to the legend of Sekhmet? - No.

Ife will try date beer? - She'll try something better.

Why does Anubis smell like mint and night breeze to you? - The smell of mint is associated with the ritual of burial in ancient Egypt. The night breeze is a cold wind. Why this particular scent? We will learn about this a little later in the story.

Will Ife get a girlfriend? - Yes.

In SI, children of gods are born naturally? - Some yes, some no.

Ife said that there were fewer people from Bat sepat in the fields of Ialu than from other sepats. Does Bastet care? - Spoiler. We will learn about Bath and Bastet later.

We will see Horus, but not in the first book.

Are there demigods in the SI universe? Can a mortal woman get pregnant by God? - Eat. A mortal woman can get pregnant by God, but it comes with a lot of complications.

Vlada said that she saw requests to dress up the gods!)

[nada-khader]

L'Égypte découvre d'anciens ateliers de momification et des tombes à Saqqarah

Dans la nécropole de Saqqara, située au sud de la capitale du Caire, l'Égypte a déclaré avoir découvert deux anciens ateliers d'embaumement pour les hommes et les animaux, ainsi que deux tombes et une collection d'objets.

La nécropole de Saqqarah est inscrite au patrimoine mondial de l'UNESCO et constitue l'une des destinations touristiques les plus populaires d'Égypte que vous pouvez visiter dans le cadre de nos circuits d'une journée en Égypte. La nécropole est ouverte aux visiteurs tout au long de l'année et plusieurs visites guidées sont proposées.

Saqqara est une ancienne nécropole située en Égypte, à environ 30 kilomètres au sud du Caire. C'était la nécropole de l'ancienne capitale égyptienne de Memphis, et elle contient les tombes de nombreux souverains parmi les plus importants d'Égypte. Vous pouvez les visiter grâce à nos excursions d'une journée au Caire, y compris la pyramide de Djoser.

Une expédition égyptienne dirigée par Mostafa Waziri, secrétaire général du Conseil suprême des antiquités, a mené les fouilles. Si les deux tombes datent de l'Ancien et du Nouveau Royaume, les deux ateliers d'embaumement datent de la XXXe dynastie et de l'époque ptolémaïque.

La nécropole de Saqqara abrite une grande variété de tombes et de monuments, notamment des pyramides, des mastabas et des temples. Grâce à nos circuits en Égypte, vous pourrez voir La structure la plus célèbre de Saqqara est la pyramide de Djéser, qui a été construite au cours de la troisième dynastie. La pyramide de Djéser est considérée comme le plus ancien ensemble complet de bâtiments en pierre de l'histoire.

La pyramide de Djoser est composée d'un ensemble de chambres avec des lits de pierre où les morts s'allongeaient pour la momification. L'atelier des animaux est également rectangulaire et construit en terre battue avec des sols en pierre. Il se compose d'un certain nombre de pièces qui abritaient autrefois des sépultures d'animaux et des collections de pots en argile, ainsi que du matériel de momification en bronze. Les premières recherches indiquent que la momification des animaux sacrés avait lieu dans cet atelier.

La première tombe découverte appartenait à "Ne Hesut Ba", un haut fonctionnaire de la Ve dynastie (2400 av. J.-C.) qui supervisait les scribes et servait de prêtre d'Horus et de Maât. Un prêtre qadish de la XVIIIe dynastie (1400 av. J.-C.) du nom de "Men Kheber" est enterré dans la seconde tombe. Alors que la tombe du Nouvel Empire est creusée dans la roche avec une porte et un linteau ornés des noms du défunt et de son épouse, la tombe de l'Ancien Empire est un mastaba avec une façade en pierre peinte portant les noms du défunt et de son épouse.

Les sites de Saqqara ont fait l'objet de nombreuses découvertes ces dernières années. Vous devez absolument voir ce site lors de nos excursions d'une journée au Caire au départ de l'aéroport, notamment des centaines de cercueils colorés contenant des momies bien conservées de prêtres et d'hommes d'État de haut rang.

La visite des pyramides de Gizeh et du Sphinx est également un must pour tout visiteur du Caire dans le cadre de nos excursions d'une demi-journée au Caire. Vous aurez l'occasion de voir les grandes pyramides de Gizeh.

De nombreuses excursions d'une journée à Louxor sont proposées. Vous pouvez visiter certains des sites les plus célèbres de Louxor, notamment le temple de Karnak, le temple de Louxor, la vallée des rois et le temple d'Hatchepsout. L'excursion aux temples d'Abou Simbel est un must pour tout visiteur d'Assouan. Vous pourrez voir les deux temples massifs d'Abou Simbel, qui ont été déplacés de leur emplacement d'origine dans les années 1960 pour éviter qu'ils ne soient submergés par les eaux du lac Nasser, grâce à nos excursions d'une journée à Assouan.

Nos circuits de Noël en Égypte sont un excellent moyen de découvrir le meilleur de l'Égypte ancienne et moderne. Vous commencerez par le Caire, où vous visiterez les pyramides, le Sphinx et le musée égyptien. Vous vous envolerez ensuite pour Louxor, où vous explorerez la Vallée des Rois, le temple de Karnak et le temple de Louxor.

[theclansofnoctusrp]

Though the Children of Ra are sheltered, they have proven time and time again that they are superior to the gryphons of Noctus. The SunKin have developed a lot of their culture, techniques, and technology with the assistance of friendlier sphinx. Very little is actually known about the Children of Ra. Even Ibisdance, the well-known sphinx scribe who has moved in permanently with the SunKin, refuses to give up too much information about them. All that is known is that the Children of Ra have a hierarchy system similar to the clans, are much more highly advanced than gryphons, have different legends and stories than the gryphons, and have lasted for hundreds if not thousands of cycles.

It's possible and common to run into other sphinx while hunting, but it's hard to keep them for a conversation. Many gryphons suspect that despite their impartiality towards gryphons on the outside, there is something inside that makes them dislike the clans. Ibisdance has let it slip that there are prophecies only the sphinx know of. Maybe that's part of it…

CHARACTER CONCEPT: ARCHAEOLOGIST It's not your fault that you get led astray from your duties so often. How could you concentrate when there's a boon of knowledge hidden within a temple just a few minutes of flight away? You're always itching to learn more about Noctus and from what you've heard, sphinx scribes have existed for longer than anyone knows. Maybe learning the language of the sphinx - their dialect and their alphabet - could help you grow a little closer and get a peek inside their manuscripts.

Every few posts will have a character concept attached for people planning to join the roleplay in the beginning of 2023. These are character ideas for people who need a bit of inspiration and will be compiled into one post before the application period.

Our Lore Website | Interest Check | Example Character

[jordanandegypt]

Hello Egypt!

September 19, 2024

Today is our first full day in Egypt.    Egypt is 4 times bigger than Michigan and has 108 million people as compared to Michigan’s 9 million.  More land and a LOT more people.  Cairo is the capital and has 23 million people more than twice the whole population of Michigan

This morning we headed out to the Egyptian Museum built in 1902.  

The Egyptian Museum in Cairo (EMC) is the oldest archaeological museum in the Middle East, housing over 170,000 artifacts. It has the largest collection of Pharaonic antiquities in the world.

Now we have been to the British Museum, The Field Museum in Chicago, The Detroit Institute of Arts,  and The Boston Museum of Fine Arts (to name a few)  and frankly I was surprised to see anything.

Our fine guide Ayman (pronounced Eye-man) took us on a little guided tour before he turned us loose.  This in an old school museum and much of the artifacts are heading to the new and HUGE new Grand Egyptian Museum which is still not 100% open but maybe in a year or two.  We will see the building tomorrow when we visit the Giza Pyramids and the Sphinx.  OMG!  I can’t wait.

But back to the prep.  There are still some amazing artifacts left in this old museum including the treasures from King Tut’s tomb.  But first…

Pharaoh Khufu:  The builder of the Great Pyramid of Giza.

His only surviving statue is, ironically, the smallest piece of Egyptian royal sculpture ever discovered: a 7.5 cm (3 inch) high ivory statue found at Abydos.  But there it is.

I particularly loved this sculpture of a scribe.  Scribes were held in great regard - and when Ayman shown a light on his eyes the glass eyes became mesmerizing.

The ability to read and write was - and is - an amazing feat capable of changing lives.

Another story is that in 1974, the mummy of Ramesses II was in decline and need some expert help. Egypt appealed to specialists around the world and France stepped up. Ramesses II was being packed to be taken to France - when it was halted by paper work. NO ONE could visit France without a valid passport. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? Anyway - although this is not the best picture he had ever taken - the passport was indeed issued. He went to France and was stabilized. Below is the passport. Check out the birthdate.

 Amazing antiquities are at the place but who doesn’t love the King Tut stuff.  Most of that cannot be photographed - so “hello” Internet.  AWESOME!

But we did take these photos…

These photos are from the Internet - but we laid eyes on all of them.

I truly enjoyed this Old School museum - and my proof that it is “OLD SCHOOL”

Read the last line.  Cool  - huh?

Tomorrow we will see some of the 111 pyramids of Egypt.  That number is not a joke. 111.

Stay tuned.

[covenawhite66]

The bronze sphinx statue, dating to the third century, was discovered in Dacia, a Roman province corresponding to modern-day Romania. The bronze sphinx statue bears several striking similarities to the famous Naxians’ Sphinx from 560 BCE.

Dacia is the ancient name for Romania and has seen the rule of various groups and empires throughout history. During ancient times, Dacia was part of the Dacian Kingdom before it was conquered by Rome.

It was determined that the inscription around the base of a bronze sphinx statue was written using the archaic Greek alphabet. However, the Greek alphabet phonetic values render a text that is non-sensical in the Greek language.

The words were written from left to right. The scribe was most likely attempting to express something in a language other than Greek by employing an archaic Greek alphabet. The phonetic values of the archaic Greek alphabet record a short rhythmic poem in Proto-Hungarian.

[squirrelwrangler]

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

There's not a lot of comedy in Sphinx's Son at the moment, though I do think there is comedy inherent in the concept of Old Lady Matoya. Her weather prediction superpower connected to her Transform into a Harpy, overlooked by the people in-charge because she decided not to mention it when she had her deadname and gender paperwork changed- and the main reason why she didn't stay long enough for a medical priest to look at her was because she cancelled her appointment because the aforementioned 'Transform into a Harpy at Will' was free unexpected gender. Unlike some of the other magical bird transformations occurring in this setting, Matoya's flight capabilities are sadly lackluster and she's more thrilled about the harpy giving her side effect boobs rather than the limited flight.

Actual snippet:

Pausing to answer the question, Rikad affirmed that she was still in command at the garrison and that if no wing-bound courier could be found, Captain Geslinaten would be the man to hunt down to request messengers sent. Only when the bald nobleman was out of earshot did Rikad lean close to Arus and whisper that Captain Geslinaten was rumored to be nursing a terrible hangover after indulging last night in too much unaltered wine at a private banquet last night.  “That feels terribly mean,” Arus said in reply to Rikad’s smirk. “Lady Tuse is in the middle of investigating a shortage. Javelins and other weapons are missing from the garrison stockage, and she thinks it is corruption instead of theft. She needs uninterrupted time for her scribes to recheck the records and find the culprit.” With a masterfully expressive shrug conveyed solely via eyebrows, Rikad concluded, “And Geslinaten is a petty asshole who deserves the intrusion into whatever hangover cure he is hunting.”

[worldtouradvicetravel]

Cairo Museum Layover Tour from Cairo Airport

 

Cairo Museum Layover Tour from Cairo Airport

With the help of World Tour Advice, you can take advantage of the Cairo Museum Layover Tour, which departs from the Cairo Airport and includes stops at the pyramids of Cheops, Chephren, and Mycerinus. You can also visit the Sphinx, the Valley Temple, the Egyptian Museum, which includes the Tut Ankhamoun Treasures, and the Egyptian Museum's Mummy Room, which is optional.

 

Enjoy the fascinating Cairo Museum Layover Tour from the Cairo airport that will take you on a tour to see the three pyramids with World Tour Advice. One of the reasons for building the pyramids was to bury their kings (Cheops, Chephren, and Mycerinus) inside them and bury with them many different things like their food, jewelery, and clothing as they believed that one day they would return to their lives. Not only in Giza, but you will find this culture throughout Egypt as well.

 

World Tour Advice tour representative will meet you upon your arrival to Cairo airport, he will help you to end the arrival procedures, meet your tour guide, drive to pyramids, the tour guide will give you idea about Cairo the city never sleep, he will show you the main things on your way to the Egyptian museum in Cairo, you will arrive to the museum which is located in Tahrir square where occurred the Egyptian revolution of 2011, you will see the main masterpieces such as Tut Ankh Amon treasure, few pieces of Old kingdom and new kingdom such as the scribe, Akhenaten and Hatshepsut statues( mummies room is optional with extra ticket). After visiting the Egyptian museum in Cairo you go to see the papyrus gallery, the perfume palaces, then lunch meal which can be in a restaurant with Nile or pyramids view or ( quick sandwiches ) , this is depending on your departure time from Cairo airport.

 

Note that our tours are flexible, you can add more items if you have long transit time in Cairo.

More tours from Cairo airport

Tour from Cairo airport to Pyramids and museum

Cairo Lay over tours from airport

Includes

The service of meeting and assistance upon your arrival to Cairo airport

Modern AC Private van from airport to Cairo Egyptian museum and return to airport

Professional English speaking tour guide during the tour

Cairo Egyptian museum entrance fees

Lunch meal during your transit tour

Services and charges 

 

Excludes

Egypt visa 

Beverages not mentioned in Cairo transit tour itinerary

Tipping to guide and driver not obligatory but recommended

For more info

amanywaw@gmail.com

Website

http://www.worldtouradvice.com

Mobile and what’s App:

002 01090023837