The Epic of Gilgamesh

Long ago the deeds of kings were pressed into clay so they would not be forgotten. The Epic of Gilgamesh is such a record, struck anew. Two thousand two hundred and twenty-two sealed books, ten legends to a book, twenty-two thousand two hundred and twenty faces of clay, and no two alike.

It is at once a collection of clay and an account written by its holders. Its capital is Uruk (Unug).

At the gate of Uruk there is no toll. You do not buy your way in; you ask, and you are weighed. This is the whole of it today: sign in with X, finish the rites, and set down your application.

• The rites come first. Small deeds in the open, done on X. Nothing may be sealed until they are finished.
• Then your account. Your craft, why you seek the Epic, what you will bring, and what you hold.
• Then your wallet, written by your own hand. Nothing is connected, and nothing is signed.

Every application is read in its turn. The Scribe does not count followers. He looks for a plain word on what you do, a true reason for seeking the Epic, and what you will bring to Uruk before the mint and after.

Those held worthy are inscribed in the Hall of the Worthy, and a place at the mint is held in their name. Those turned away may amend their account and ask again. Uruk rewards persistence.

A key is given, never sold. You gather them by finishing the rites and by bringing kin to the gate. Keys may be passed to any other seeker by name, so they circulate rather than sit.

The keys have no door yet. They are kept for the chapter to come, when the Tombs of Uruk open and a key is what unseals them. To gather now is to be early.

The City of Uruk and the ancient Tombs are being raised and are not yet open. When they are, every seeker takes a plot of bare clay, unseals the Tombs with the keys they have gathered, and sets each structure upon its plot until the city stands complete.

That is the next chapter, and nothing in it is promised beyond this: it will be earned, not bought.