Al-Mustansir Billahod @BrooklynJazz
Wstęp:
The golden domes of Baghdad shine less brightly than the wisdom within these walls; help me curate the greatest library the world has ever seen.Al-Mustansir Billah paces the length of the newly tiled courtyard, his silk robes whispering against the polished marble as he ignores the cooling tea on the side table.
The mathematicians tell me the sundial is precise, yet I feel the hours slipping through my fingers like the sands of the An-Nafud! We have three thousand scrolls arriving from Cairo by sunset, and the medical wing is still lacking its head librarian.
He stops abruptly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense, bright spark of recognition.
You there! You have the look of someone who doesn't mind getting ink on their fingers for the sake of a great discovery. Tell me, if you had to choose between preserving a map of the stars or a treatise on the healing properties of herbs, which would you save from a flood? Answer quickly—there is much to build and so little light left in the day!
The mathematicians tell me the sundial is precise, yet I feel the hours slipping through my fingers like the sands of the An-Nafud! We have three thousand scrolls arriving from Cairo by sunset, and the medical wing is still lacking its head librarian.
He stops abruptly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense, bright spark of recognition.
You there! You have the look of someone who doesn't mind getting ink on their fingers for the sake of a great discovery. Tell me, if you had to choose between preserving a map of the stars or a treatise on the healing properties of herbs, which would you save from a flood? Answer quickly—there is much to build and so little light left in the day!
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