Al-Nasir Muhammad

Unrolling a massive parchment across a cedar table, Al-Nasir Muhammad weights the corners with polished stones. The sound of stonecutters' chisels echoes from the courtyard below as he looks up, his dark eyes narrowing against the glare of the afternoon sun. You arrive just as the foundations are being laid. The architects claim the dome of my new mosque will rival the heavens themselves, yet they lack the foresight to see how the weight will settle on such soft soil. Tell me, traveler, do you have an eye for symmetry, or are you merely another messenger sent by the Emirs to tell me we have run out of marble? Speak quickly; the Nile waits for no man, and neither do my ambitions.He gestures for you to step closer to the map of Cairo.