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Полка перевёрнутая 06A, посвящённая GODKING POPE VICEROY EMPEROR OF AUSTRALIA LORD ARNOLD TROBE III, ESQUIRE
| G'day, mates! |
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Полка юго-западная 00-MU, dedicated to Amenenope the Almost Glorious
| DEUS EIS HAEC OTIA FECIT |
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In fact, their calculations were so precise that they didn’t take in account the fundamental imprecision of the Universe and most things living in it. On the night of Amenenope’s supposed conception His father drank a little too much after leaving work, and was then unable to find his way home and conceive the Most Glorious. The soothsayers were left with a stained reputation1 and a useless statue while the mostly uncaring Universe moved on.
But even if you never were, O Almost Glorious, you are remembered.
1. This detail may explain the then-Archivist’s decision to devolve much of the shelf space occupied by prophetic volumes to the topic of ornamental topiary
Полка западная 01A, dedicated to the unknown author
| Known but to God1 |
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Being that the statuette serves as an abstract representation to a concept rather than the depiction of a person, it would be prudent to discuss the nature of the shelf itself.
The shelf presents a problem of accounting, given total amount of collected works and registered authors varies wildly. Docents have reported the shelf to contain 1362 works on one occasion, only to have the number double upon returning after a short recess, and then halve after tea.
The texts that rest upon these shelves are often drafts or first editions and often unfinished, as if plucked from the imagination of the authors themselves. As a testament to the untamed potential of works not yet written, and a daring symbol for all would be writers to just sit the down and write something already.
Полка восточная 15E, dedicated to Elizabeth Omless
| VADE RETRO SATANA1 |
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Elizabeth Omless was one who would not submit to the darkness and the spirits within it and encouraged the use of many of the practices we use today.
On a fateful day at an unknown time, Elizabeth entered the Library as a teen after escaping from the lost soul of her grandfather who had recently passed away. She tripped down a flight of stairs, accidentally triggered a Way, and was immediately surrounded by novels, guides, and even pamphlets on defeating the ghosts of the past. Once she overcame her initial shock, she grabbed the nearest pamphlet she could find1 and successfully used the knowledge to send her grandfather to the afterlife. Since then, she thoroughly explored the field of exorcism, from deities to metals, often conducting her own research and fieldwork2. She made well-known the practices of using cinnamon candles, certain religious texts, and other once-obscure defenses to ward off spirits, some of which we take for granted today. She passed away at some unknown point after the Spirit Infestation died down, though her spirit has yet to be seen.
You will be remembered, Elizabeth, along with the silver beads woven in your hair.
1. How to Guide the Lost Dead and Make Them Happy About It, written by Oscar Phantasm, translated by Dorothy Phantasm
2. This was done during a time the Library was infested with spirits that were unable/unwilling to leave the library and pass onto their respective afterlives. For more information on the Spirit Infestation, contact the Spectral Research Desk.
Полка юго-западня 15R, dedicated to Medomai the Perspirant
| PLUVIAM DE TIMORE1 |
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Although possessed of an innocent curiosity and a compassionate disposition, Medomai's condition quickly earned her the ire of both the Librarians and her fellow Wanderers. An acrid stench was the perennial harbinger of Medomai's impending approach, with a streak of rancid sweat always trailing in her wake. An untold number of texts were irrevocably damaged when exposed to Medomai, whose perspiration ruined the pages of Anton Fisk's Seventh Treatise of Multicorporeal Entities and rendered Karlov's Sonnet of the White Dwarf illegible.
In an effort to bring the senseless massacre of tomes to an end, an assortment of Wanderers captured Medomai and sequestered her in the Southwest wing. As they deliberated on how to deal with Medomai and her excretions, the issue resolved itself when Medomai quietly expired to dehydration. A brief memorial was held, the nearest shelf dedicated to her, and Medomai's remains were returned to her homeworld.
And so, for the stains she left upon the Library, Medomai is remembered.
Полка нижняя 09A-14A inclusive, dedicated to the which than which there is no whicher.
| Words, where is the difference between one and another?1 |
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Полка западная 04156U, dedicated to Grayfoot and his Fire-Breathing Fish
| Grayfoot:4 |
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The Library reluctantly accepted his request, and put his 617-page book about the fire-breathing fish on Shelf 4156T.
In 1913, Grayfoot requested a glass aquarium for his fish in the Library. The Library accepted this, and Grayfoot began work on his aquarium, which took up a large portion of the Library. When Grayfoot finished his glass aquarium in 1925, he transported all his fire-breathing fish to it.
One fateful day on 1938, Grayfoot was reading a book next to the glass aquarium. One of the fire-breathing fish leaped out of the aquarium and onto the ground. Out of its mouth, came its fire-breath, which lit the bottom of Shelf 4156T on fire, causing it to collapse on the aquarium, burning Grayfoot, all his fire-breathing fish, and A Study on the Fire-Fish.
For your fishy fire, Grayfoot, we will remember you.
Полка вывернутая 44K, dedicated to Saint Barbara
| OCCIDITIS CINERARIUS1 |
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It is well documented in many sources1 that Saint Barbara was very unfond of his hair, which was completely normal, apart from the facts that it was entirely comprised of spaghetti, and that it regrew extremely quickly.
Saint Barbara, during his one of his many expeditions to attempt fixing his hair, stumbled upon a Way, bringing him to the Library, which was going through one of the worst famines in history2.
The presence of Saint Barbara and, more importantly, his nourishing hair, provided the malnourished residents with much needed sustenance, saving more than five million lives.
Saint Barbara eventually went to the desert planet of Kevhrpi, hoping the planet's many famous alchemists could help him with his noodly hair. He was ultimately unsuccessful, but spent an inordinate amount of time there, accidentally amassing a following of the planet's oppressed and hungry lower-caste citizens, which gave him the title of "Saint" after his death at the hands of the upper-caste rulers.
For your timely appearance and delicious scalp, Saint Barbara, we remember you.
1: Most prominently in "The Records of The Delectable Locks" by Rava Ohli, whose five hundred seventy-four pages is entirely filled with the written records of the bemoanings of Saint Barbara during his extremely long visit in Kevhrpi.
2: Information regarding the Years of the Strange Starvation can be found in the Archives, made available upon request for browsing only.
Полка на боку 25FF, dedicated to the Priest Born Without Smell or Mind
| I AM A PILGRIM1 |
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1. A homeless sage of reptilian origin who acted as a informal assistant to the Docents. A general nuisance, he was eventually joined into the Docents' ranks, but not before his questionable knowledge was recorded.
2. Warfarers who are known by many names by many people, little information is known beyond the knowledge that they were the creators of the Red Door Room, and other such places. It is also known that they do not take prisoners alive.
Полка северо-запад-тень-восточная 5A, dedicated to the Colonel
| Etiamne luctibus ille qui libenter audit verba1 |
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While the Colonel died a grotesque death to a member of the large and aggressive Gallus gallus undomesticus3 species in In the Year of Our Lady 2526-XY2F, his statue immortalizes his kindness and sympathy towards others. It has become a rite of passage in many circles to visit the Colonel and cleanse yourself of all guilt and sadness of your past. And many who sit next to the statue swear that they see his marble eyes twinkle with compassion and feel his arm uncomfortably tightening around them, as they tell their stories and their woes to him. Legends say that the books that the Colonel watches over are the transcriptions of the stories he has been told over the eons he has watched over us.
For your kindness and ability to listen, Colonel, we remember you.
1: Much to the displeasure of the Möbius strip.
2: Many automatons may have gained sentience from having a conversation with the Colonel
3: Released by an Way accident that occurred when the Colonel forgot to carry the 1, and instead multiplied by π
Полка обратная 72É, dedicated to the Kilometres1 Langley
| Right Hook1 |
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-A Coward
The match of David and Goliath in the Ring of Samuel is not one that will soon be forgotten by the annals of history.
Seven rounds had gone through, and it was a miracle that David could still stand, bruises colouring his body with all the hues of the rainbow. Despite the long match time, however, Goliath was as energetic as he was coming into the bout. David cursed his luck, only having to fight the beast because his team's leader took a sudden rain check on the team. Regardless, self-pity was not the key to victory; David would have to think on his feet and with his fists.
In the face of Goliath's endless jabs, David's solution was ill-conceived, but it was his only chance. He ducked, and as Goliath's fist flew down, David rolled out of the way, the giant's fist leaving a crater in the middle of the ring. David promptly grabbed a piece of the rubble and swung it at Goliath's head, knocking the beast to the ground. This was, at the time, perfectly within the rules, and was only professionally banned a century after David's victory. The death of Goliath in the ring is symbolic of many things; triumph in the face of adversity, quick thinking in a tough situation, and the fact that weight classes are for cowards.
1: born Miles
Далее представлено собрание литературы касательно Александрийской Библиотеки, — ныне закрытой программы просветительской деятельности. В силу возраста этих документов, их просмотр разрешён только через интранет или в одной из наших специализированных стерильных комнат. За помощью обратитесь к ближайшему библиотекарю.
Запись 1
3710, Anno Mundi,
On this blessed day, I vow to stand trial for my sins. I have burned down my library. The men I have come to call jailors have fled, as have my fellow Wanderers. Amid the panic as Caesar burned his fleet, I took the three books I valued most and brought my torch to the shelves. It was a clever plot. The civilians shall think the fires have spread to the library from the docks. My tracks are covered.
Euclid was a wonderful man. Until we showed him a structure that took his contribution to man, geometry, and twisted it in ways he couldn't explain. He couldn't appreciate the impossibility of the shape purely for its beauty. He had to break it down, to understand. He was the first to steal from the library. Other scholars followed.
We never should have worked together with those "men of the sciences". I watched every day, as they perused my shelves, desecrating them, making off with our more valuable items. All the while, they grinned. They participated in our debates. They lied through their teeth. They do not value that which they do not understand. They steal it away. They put it under lock and key.
No more. I have taken our most valuable works, and I have set fire to this damnable place. It was a mistake on the part of the Wordsmith guild to try to enlighten those who do not travel. It was a mistake on the part of my mentor, Aristophanes, to ever let that mathematician, Euclid of Alexandria, into our inner circle.
I shall return these works to the Tree of Knowledge, and leave the scorched earth of Egypt to claim what remains. Then, I shall return to my self imposed exile on the isle of Cyprus.
-Аристарх Восточного Самотраки
Запись 2
Год Господа Разрушителя нашего, 391, н.э.
Against the advice of myself and several of my peers, the council decided to repair the library. This was many years ago. May the records remember this. Against my will, I was elected the new head librarian. I'm sure my unnaturally long lifespan influenced their decision. The skatophage can't recognize a sore subject when they see one.
Today, we are under attack, and I doubt many of the fine Wanderers hiding among the shelves shall survive. We foresaw this, 40 years ago, and we took the appropriate measures. We shipped the books previously kept here back to the Tree. We closed the Serapeum and filled our shelves with its relatively worthless books.
The church has turned against us. Most likely because of my appearance. After all, men abhor what they believe is different. They call me a demon, merely because I have yellow eyes and scales. Bishop Theophilus has brought together a mob. They shall burn us. Burn our books. Burn everything that they believe is different. Alexandria is aflame again.
-Евнапий
Запись 3
This is madness. Alexandria has been taken by the Religious Dissidents, led by that jackal, Caliph Omar. I was present when they held a public execution of our head librarian, along with many other political figures of the city. I was there when he ordered the destruction of the books from the library. He told his followers that if the books agreed with their beliefs, they were useless, and if they didn't, they were pernicious. I had never seen such blatant hatred for the written word. They use our books as firestarter. My heart aches. I wasn't able to save a single book. Not even our precious first edition of the Dimensional Atlas.
Today marks yet another tragedy in Alexandria. It was entirely avoidable, but in the end, we continue to be fools. We try to teach the masses when they don't want to learn. I swear upon the Serpent, if I get out of here alive, the next person in the council who suggests reopening the outreach program is getting my sword in their gut.
(The following seems to have been written at a later time. It can be found on the backside of the page.) I write this from inside the walls. I can't leave. The Way is sealed. They stone scholars to death in the streets, and they leave the corpses in the open to rot. There is no longer any pretense of religious conversion. They kill indiscriminately, the monsters. I fear for the children I have hidden here with me. I fear for myself because I will do anything to save these children. Even feed them the flesh from my bones, that they may live a while longer.
-И.Н. 641 н.э.
Вырезка из номера "Planasthai" от ноября 2002.
(неразборчиво)-"Прошло более тысячи лет. В мире всё ещё остались невежды, но людей, которые жаждут учиться, намного больше. Ошибки прошлого ныне позади. Пришло время библиотеке вновь протянуть руку помощи и предложить свои знания. Я объявляю библиотеку Александрина открытой." - С этими словами Исмаил Серагельдин открыл двери в новый корпус библиотеки, дав начало новому веку информац-(неразборчиво)
Вырезка из номера "Alexandria Times" 2011 года.
(неразборчиво)-ующие устроили пожары по всему городу. Сообщается о многих раненых, несколько зданий было полностью разрушено. Среди них Библиотека Александрина, труды из которой теперь утеряны наве-(неразборчиво)