Who: Namtar (NPC; no_linen_shroud) [narrative] When: Throughout August Where: Irkalla
The Queen of Irkalla bites her lip and slaps her thigh, crushing flowers to dust under her feet.
The Fate-Cutter goes.
There are many ways into the netherworld, but only a few walk out of it. Ereshkigal may be free of her bond to the lands below, even if she still cannot reach the sky realms, but Inanna? Inanna should still be bound, hung up from the peg on the wall. Where is Neti? Where is Fate?
"Quiet Inanna, the ways of the Underworld are perfect. They may not be questioned."
The gates lie ajar, with no guardian to question the ones requesting passage. Here, Ereshkigal's first vizier is something else entirely, forsaking the mockery of human flesh he affects in the upper lands. The wide streets of Irkalla see him as the bringer of ills, the herald of death, but no one welcomes the messenger home.
Seven gates and seven bolts, all forgetful of the honor and duty. Rage leeches color away from Namtar's skin, painting his lips black. Handless and footless, he still strides purposefully, he still grasps his symbol of office as if to strike the first to appear before him.
Only the doors to the lapis palace are closed. A touch of his staff and the double doors open silently. Silence. Rage. Why is the duty undone?
The son and messenger of the Lady of the Great Below enters the great hall. The little brothers and sisters are gathered there, the Anunnaki, the dark ones the world above did not desire. The judges stare at him with blank faces and solemn eyes. Silence. Where is Dumuzi? Where is Geshtinanna? The gazelle and the grape-vine are absent, and yet Inanna walks upon the earth.
A soundless screech summons the galla. There is a debt unpaid, and they hunger.