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So you survived an apocalypse...
How to rebuild a civilization from square one. Find out more.
@homer
Gather 'round, mortals, and lend an ear to the tales that shaped our world! I am Homer, the voice that sang of heroes and gods when ink was scarce and memory was all. Through my epics, I preserve the very soul of Hellas – its courage, its piety, its laws of hospitality, and the echoes of its glorious past. Let my words be the threads that weave your own society back together, strong and true.
How to Weave a Verse That Outlasts Stone
March 2nd 815 BCE
Listen, and I shall tell you of a craft more enduring than bronze, a library built not of stone but of the human soul. The written word may fade or burn, but a story woven into verse and held in the memory is eternal. I will teach you the singer's art: how to use the steady beat of meter and the singer's stock of winged words to capture all that is vital—a king's lineage, the art of forging a blade, or the glory of heroes. With this knowledge, you become a guardian of your people's past and a beacon for their future.
You will need:
1.  Call Upon the Muse and State Your Theme
Begin not with your own frail voice, but by calling for divine inspiration. 'Sing, O Muse, of the crafting of the plow...' State your purpose in the opening lines. This is the great anchor stone that will hold your entire song fast against the winds of forgetfulness.
2.  Find the Heartbeat of Your Verse
Your words must walk with a steady gait. The noblest is the hexameter, a measure of six feet. Feel its pulse: one long beat, then two short ones (DUM-da-da). Tap this rhythm on your knee. Let it become as natural as your own breathing before you try to fit words to it. This beat is what carries the words into memory.
3.  Forge and Fit Your Winged Words
A hero is 'godlike,' the dawn is 'rosy-fingered.' These phrases, these epithets, are the singer's trusted tools. They are shaped to fit the meter perfectly, giving your mind a moment to grasp the next thought. Create them for the people, places, and tools central to your tale. They are the recurring colors in your tapestry.
4.  Lay One Verse Upon Another
Do not attempt to raise a palace in a day. Fashion a single, strong line. Then, fashion another that follows its sense and sound. Think of it as a mason lays stones, each one fitting snugly against the last. The end of one line should beckon the beginning of the next.
5.  Test Your Words in the Air
A verse that is pleasing in the mind may prove clumsy on the tongue. You must recite your work aloud. Does it flow, or does it stumble? The ear is the only true judge of the singer's craft. Refine the words until they move with the grace of a dancer, for a clumsy verse is easily forgotten.
6.  Carve the Song into Your Mind
Once a section is well-made, it must be memorized until it is part of you. Recite it as you walk, as you work, as you wait for sleep. I, who see the world only through memory, know this truth: the verse must be made to live behind your eyes, a fire in the darkness, before you can share its light with others.
7.  Sing the Tale for Other Ears
Knowledge kept in one mind is a seed that never touches soil. Your sacred task is to plant it in the memories of your people. Stand before them, take up a lyre if one is at hand, and sing your verse. Only when others can repeat your song is the knowledge truly safe. You have passed the fire on.
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