Theme: No Blues - The Clock (Instrumental)
Mutír Gimilli Dur-Napšatbár (Avenger of Dur-Napšatbár)
Anšar Dámánáyu (Anšar the Bloody)
Anšar Ṭábiḫa (Anšar the Hangman)
Anšar Lá Ániḫum (Anšar the Unwavering)
Anšar Apadaziqna (Anšar Short-Beard)
KINZIRŰ ANŠAR IṢṢÚRIŠÁTIŠ EMRATUM BUKRADÁRRÍTU BÁBILMÉŠŰ
✵ ANŠAR THE BLOODY ✵
Hail, Kinzirű Anšar, brave Šar of Shuraya, successor of Ešrášeššeténú Matáḫanáḫir, appointed in the year ten-thousand-six-hundred-eighty-four by the popular vote of the unshakable race of Shuraya.
Hail, Nannár, sole progeny of Kinzirű Emragű and Kinzirű Asatum, born ninety-and-three years ago on the seventh day of Adár in the year ten-thousand-five-hundred-ninety-two in the district of Bábilméš in our sacred capital of Ál-Bélúti-Šúráya, Loyal follower of ATRAḪASÍS, Faithful to the gods, he who names Ištar, God of Love and War as Ilu-Mušallimu, Loving husband of Ḫarmu Kakkulata Mandaru.
Hail, triumphant Rab-Kiṣri, graduate of the Műṣar Bét-Ṭuppiḫayál, who stands deftly seven-feet-and-two-inches above the earth. May his tenure be blessed thricefold by the Wisdom of ATRAḪASÍS, the Mercy of the Gods, and the Strength of Our Ancestors.
Pictured Above: Typical sight in Bábilméš
”You’re a good boy, Anšar, but you’ll never be a good Atrahasian. I figured that the moment I saw those beady little eyes which held more life and light than me or your father combined and knew it when you decided to make those daily prisonbreak attempts, trying to climb out of your crib. You are undisciplined, impulsive, naďve, impetuous, unstudious, and grotesquely excitable, but you know what? You have heart, and that can’t be learned, that’s what truly sets you apart from others. You’ll never be as disciplined or calm as your kin, so let that unquenching fire in your heart and passion for life be your spear. Never forsake the ways of our people, but never fall to despair from your difference. You’re destined for great things, I’d bet anything on that. You know why? It’s the reason you have no brothers and sisters, your presence in my belly was so great you sapped the entirety of my fertility. Only a truly powerful being could do such a thing. Oh, don’t look at me like that, I don’t begrudge you for it, how many mothers can boast of a son as powerful? And besides, when I look at you I see every child I could have borne, all wrapped up into a single spastic body. You’ve got the energy of a dozen kids, all conveniently stuffed into a single body, one mouth to feed needing only a single bed to sleep in. You were a steal, really.”
𒁹 FIREBIRD 𒁹
Anšar was born in the lower-class neighborhood of Bábilméš in the capital, Ál-Bélúti-Šúráya, to the Kinzirűs Emragű and Asatum, a grizzled pair of Akalútumáyu veterans of the Mámítúkarmiš Frontier War who returned to their neighborhood-of-birth and took up the trade of bookmaking. As a child, despite his rowdiness, he easily made friends with both children and adults alike all throughout his neighborhood, possessing a preternatural charisma. Physically, he excelled, playing Šeḫṭumasappum from a very young age and nearly all-throughout his schooling, eventually becoming the point guard of his high school's varsity team. His scholastic life was never as fruitful however, typically having middling-at-best grades and only having interest in topics relating to athletics and the military, the latter due to his idolization of it as a result of his parents’ service. Due to his poor academic performance, he was regularly subjected to beatings, both verbal and physical, by school staff for his perceived lack of intelligence and discipline until he was fourteen. At four, his father died in a car crash and his mother used the money they’d been saving up and bought a bar which very quickly became a staple of the neighborhood. From here on, his mother became more distant, devoting the lion’s share of her energy into the running of her business, and becoming a functioning alcoholic before dying ten years later of a heart attack. Due to this, Anšar's home changed every couple months as he moved from house-to-house owned by various families who were friends of his parents or the parents of his friends at school, all of whom happily took Anšar in and passed him around, causing him to essentially be raised by the neighborhood throughout his adolescence.
Days after his mother's death, Anšar was once again ridiculed by one of his teachers in the middle of class for not paying attention, and as the teacher brought his hand down to smack Anšar, he grabbed the man's hand and with red-ears and teary-eyes, proceeded to beat the teacher half-to-death in front of a growing crowd of students, only pulled off the teacher with the combined strength of three school staff-members. Anšar was saved from any serious punishment by the schoolmaster himself as he'd recently ingratiated himself to the man by defending his daughter from bullies. This outburst marked a new, darker chapter of Anšar's life, and no one at school, student or staff dared disrespect Anšar again. A few weeks after this, still stuck in a miasma of desiderium and anger, he founded the small-time street gang Ur-Maššašéssú, named for the pair of switchblades each member carried, that was affiliated with the Hunzűwatrűmibrútu, one of the more prominent criminal syndicates in the area who many in the neighborhood had prior dealings with. The gang specialized in selling loose cigarettes (usually at school), prostitution and the trade of illegal magical artifacts, along with the occasional kidnapping and mugging, though the latter two types of crimes committed by his gang were episodic and kept outside the neighborhood and were only perpetrated against those the gang thought were particularly deserving of their wrath. Eventually, Anšar had given up on his mediocre studies, using his silver-tongue to get some the more academically-inclined students to do his work for him, a few months after giving up on his studies, he gave up on sports as well, along with all his extracurriculars, forsaking his promising Šeḫṭumasappum career in favor of the exciting life of a small-time gangster. Despite all this, he still managed to graduate with all the other kids in his grade, albeit thanks to other people's work, people who he each paid personally after graduation with stolen money.
Pictured Above: Temple of Ištar situated in the midst of Lake Šilâti, where Anšar stayed
“Praise be to you, Ištar, you whose divine eminence is supreme passion, you who taught us to love and defend that which we love, to cherish all that which is good and beautiful and strike down all that which is wicked and foul. Your love shall always bring warmth to the spirits of our race and your ferocity shall always inspire us to temper our hearts and stand unflinching in the face of all enemies. You are the Lion of Ur-Kuríbadnáti and a beloved parent of all Shurayu, oh Red-and-White-God, bloodiest and kindest One of Seven. We prostrate ourselves before your immaculate throne and pledge our souls to you for all time.”
-Pledge to Ištar
𒈫 ACOLYTE 𒈫
At eighteen, an injured Šamḫatim passing through Bábilméš named Parahšu was attacked by one of Anšar’s rival gangs, Ur-Buḫrušamšú, a powerful local gang who outnumbered the Ur-Maššašéssú two-to-one. Anšar, being deeply religious and wishing to avoid the pressure that would befall the neighborhood from a Šamḫatim being attacked, rescued him after rallying his boys and beating back the attackers in a pitched battle in the street with the help of some local vagrants, loyal to Anšar due to him regularly feeding them. After this incident, Anšar quickly formed a deep bond with Parahšu, becoming highly emotionally-dependent upon him. Over a very short time, Parahšu's influence over Anšar had grown so great that he managed to convince him to leave his life of petty crime to join the ranks of the Šamḫatimú at the same Ištaric Temple as him and cloister himself within its walls. Anšar eagerly devoted all his energy into studying the tenets of Ištar and serving it in every way he could under the tutelage of Parahšu and his new family within the temple, and as he studied, his devotion multiplied to a level considered feverish even by Ištar's own priests, his piety granting him a prominent position in the temple which he used to help the community surrounding it. After his second year of service to Ištar, Parahšu granted him his Níburabű, Iṣṣúrišátiš, referring to how he 'Soared up brightly like a bird of living-flame', shortly before being relocated to a temple off-world for undisclosed reasons. Anšar was heartbroken by Parahšu’s departure and honed his devoutness further in an effort to mend his emotional state. After nineteen years of waiting in vain for Parahšu to return and training in the Ištaric arts he had an epiphany before his personal statuette of the Love-War-God while under the influence of anointed herbs, deciding he would leave the carnal temple, disciplined and with a purpose in life and serve his god and his country in the Atrahasian Army while keening his connection with Ištar’s warrior aspect. He applied to the highly-prestigious Műṣar Bét-Ṭuppiḫayál and was quickly accepted due to his innate martial knowledge, talent, military parentage, and a number of sexual favors. He spent five years there, where through studious and honest effort he excelled in his military studies and built a strong rapport with his class before being permitted to join the battlefields as a sergeant at the tender age of forty-four.
Pictured Above: Pirate Fortress of Dárídannútu after the Battle of Iškúrtam
”We are the Išátumámuqarnú, the Horns of the Fire-Beast. We are the flame in the dark wielded by the noble folk of Shuraya, all injustices and violations shall be avenged by our vindicating fury. Hear the thundering of our war-drums and behold our crimson banners fluttering in the breeze and know your obliterators.”
-Creedo of the Išátumámuqarnú
𒐈 BLOODY-HANDED WARRIOR 𒐈
After Anšar graduated from Műṣar, he was assigned to the 99th Išátumámuqarnú Infantry Regiment, famed for the pyromantic inclinations of its soldiers and its fearsome reputation of a ‘fixer’ regiment, going all across Shurayu space engaging the Republic’s most troublesome adversaries in it’s ceaseless campaign. Because of this, he was stationed all across the breadth of the nation, from lush worlds to tiny asteroids and everything in between, never staying anywhere for long, always headed to the next battle. This existence of near-constant battle would be his life for the next forty-six years. His first battle was a large evenly-matched engagement against a confederation of Exiled Shurayu Houses and Pirate Clans on the planet Atrazar II, a mid-sized colonial mining world on the edge of Shurayu space which came to be known as the Battle of Iškúrtam. Anšar served with distinction, cultivating a fearsome reputation for himself after conducting several Ištaric War Rituals in camp before leading his fireteam on countless audacious surprise attacks on enemy positions, appearing from seemingly nowhere and slaughtering droves of the Republic’s enemies then extrajudicially hanging any surrendered officers, earning him the moniker Anšar Ṭábiḫa used by comrades and enemies alike and adding the skulls of his fourteen greatest opponents to his Ṣulátipaṭír. Iškúrtam was a formative moment for Anšar, and set the tone for most of his future military endeavors.
After his success at Iškúrtam, Anšar’s next notable engagement was in the Nimrubán Campaign of 10642 against the Aštabar Slaver Clans. After a long series of battles and skirmishes the campaign came to a head in the battle of Ál-Ušárúkuṣṣur, a renegade city on a nameless cragworld. Anšar and his company were among the first of the Atrahasian Vanguard and were responsible for razing large-swathes of the city, granting clemency to civilian defectors and treating any suspected Aštabar-collaborators with the savagery he normally reserved for enemy combatants. Victory seemed all but certain but as the ever-fickle fabric of reality around the planet naturally waned, a large Aštabar fleet of reinforcements was able to teleport in and bolster the defenders with tens of thousands of fresh bodies and vehicles. With the Atrahasians suddenly outnumbered, the Aštabar began a counterattack to which the Atrahasian lines crumbled, tired, and entirely unprepared for a counterattack after weeks of constant offense. The Atrahasian High-Command, seeing their momentum crushed and morale shaken with their army facing a much larger force on a hostile world, began an all-out retreat, with Anšar's company along with a few volunteers from other companies protecting the army's rear.
Pictured Above: Saḫar-Sanáq
”You have been anticipated, butcher. We believe in a certain modicum of civility in war, a code of decency to separate us from base animals and prevent battlefields from turning into depraved quagmires, but you? You’re a problem. You follow no real code, just the barbaric whims of your war god. Don’t act like you care about Shuraya or the Wisdom of ATRAḪASÍS. I know your kind. You are a fanatic; God-Madness has infested every corner of your mind like mold. Ištar is your true master. Hanging surrendered men with short nooses so they strangle, beheading officers begging for mercy, taking personal belongings and body parts as trophies and offerings to your come-and-go god. Your behavior is that of an animal, not a man, do you even have any decency left in you or has zealotry and bloodlust taken it all? Nevermind that, you will be punished for your actions. You will never leave this tower. Everything shall be taken from you. Your welfare, your dignity, your pride, your respect. Everything. Every day and every night you will spend in pain. And once I find there’s nothing left to be taken, your body shall serve. Your body will be fed to the lizards and your head with dangle from a war banner and be paraded in front of your men and all will know the fate of Anšar Ṭábiḫa and any who dare follow your path.”
-Tadánu the Jailer
𒐼 TOWER OF ABUSE 𒐼
Once the bulk of the Atrahasian Army was offworld, Anšar and his company were surrounded and captured after days of intense fighting. They were sent to the prison of Saḫar-Sanáq where the whole company was subjected to daily abuses, with Anšar receiving the brunt of it along with a number of unique indignities which he refuses to speak of to this day, all of this due to his position, deeds, and constant obstinance toward his captors, goading them into torturing him so they'd spend less time torturing his comrades. After three years of incarceration and mistreatment, a team of covert Atrahasian Multépišú opened a dimensional rift in the middle of the prison from which came forth droves of Kaműgallú which tore through the prison like flame consuming paper. In the ensuing chaos, Anšar and his fellow prisoners carved a bloody swathe through the prison as they escaped. After a month of rest and concentrated healing magic, Anšar eagerly rejoined the front lines alongside his comrades in their unending war against the traitors along the frontier, much to the frustration and concern of the medics tending to him.
Pictured Above: Katmutakkassu
”Rab-Kiṣri-Kinzirű, I respect that this is personal for you, but on behalf of myself and the men, I implore you not to bring this ’Surdűnasíka’ along. This is a secret operation and that man is a street criminal in a rogue system; there’s no way he isn’t trying to take advantage of the situation for his own gain! I fear bringing him along will blow up in our faces, which’ll end up hurting you more than it will anybody else. We don’t need him, alright? We’re your brothers, we’ve fought, bled, cried, and rejoiced with you for years. We’ll find our own way to the Napšutaširpam-stores.”
-Nakálunannár, Anšar’s second
𒐊 FALLEN HAWK 𒐊
After Anšar’s recovery from the wounds inflicted upon him at Saḫar-Sanáq, he fought with a new, personal fury and the number of offerings adorning his Ṣulátipaṭír increased exponentially as a result over the following decades, earning him many boons from Ištar and much fame along the frontier. In 10658, Anšar was hand-selected to lead Kašád Saḫap-Tánti, a covert mission to steal the Napšutaširpam-stores in the pirate asteroid-city of Katmutakkassu, a renegade closed-settlement discovered five months previously by Atrahasian scouts. Shortly after arriving in the city through a dimensional rift hewn by a team of elite Multépišú, Anšar encountered a man calling himself Surdűnasíka. He was a few years Anšar’s junior and the leader of the local street gang, foul-mouthed and sly, with rough skin marred with the history of a hard life. Anšar saw himself in the man, saw the man he might have become had he not stepped in to save Parahšu fifty-one years prior. He shared the stories of his youth with the man and they felt between them a strange kinship. Determined to help the man leave his life of petty crime like Parahšu had done for him all those years ago, he brought him along with his company, against their wishes. For five days, Surdűnasíka acted as a guide, leading the company through the narrow, twisted streets and tunnels of the city, and as the company arrived upon the city’s Napšutaširpam stockpile, he assisted in the ensuing gunfight, helping the Atrahasians eliminate the pirate fuel-wardens, earning him the begrudging respect of the company. However, after the gunfight, as Anšar was going to check on the state of the stockpile’s stores he found Surdűnasíka standing above the bodies of two of his men, trying to steal the fuel for himself. Heartbroken and enraged, Anšar blew him to pieces with his shotgun. For months after this event Anšar was deeply affected, paranoid, guilty, and saddened, and determined to re-earn the confidence of his men.
Pictured Above: Anšar attacking the sentinels of Berquḫurru
”These small-dicked spineless fúcks had every advantage and still got spanked like the little bitches they are. I smash the head of that creep mage leading them like a melon and we turn the tide a little and suddenly the big tough Burumkuš are nowhere to be found! Cowardly fúcking insects! Well we know where they went, we know where they live, so how about we go over there and give them the same courtesy, except we won’t be running away, not until every last one of those cockroaches are dead! Look at your fallen brothers, remember the times you spent with them, remember who took them from you, and let that rage strengthen your arms and quicken your feet. I invoke the names of Lakmesi, my dear martyred Ṣeḫru, Ištar, bloody god of justice, ATRAḪASÍS, our great father, all our ancestors, and all the brothers we’ve lost today; Witness our fury, watch as we exact vengeance for our fallen comrades!”
𒐋 ASHEN MAN 𒐋
The climactic conclusion of Anšar's service in the Atrahasian Army came when he was stationed at the Dur-Napšatbár mining station in the remote Lagaš system in the year 10681. A large battle-fleet of the of the accursed Burumkuš Slaver-Clan cut through the fabric of reality and fell upon the large mining station within the span of an instant. A complete failure in the chain of command due to the majority of the station’s garrisoned officers being assassinated by Burumkuš infiltrators at the offset of the attack lead to the near destruction of the station, however he managed to take charge and rally the garrison together after smashing the head of the Burumkuš Bél-Multépiš Suḫlámu against a pillar so much it turned to mush in the midst of a blind rage after the offending Multépiš immolated his Ṣeḫru, Lakmesi. Once rallied, the Atrahasian defenders, inspired by Anšar’s visceral act of impassioned vengeance quickly turned the tide against the pirates and killed those unable or unwilling to flee, though at a high mortal cost, as by the end of the battle, the majority of the inhabitants in the station- especially the garrison had been killed.
Anšar then led a company of his best men to hunt down the perpetrators located at the violet fortress of Berquḫurru which sat like a gaudy pustule atop a peak on the surface of the noxious moon Ḫarbúta 9. His company scaled the fortress’s walls and fell upon the defending pirates with such speed and fury the shocked defenders failed utterly in forming a coordinated defense. The enraged Atrahasians charged through the fortress, gunning down every pirate that didn’t immediately surrender. The Atrahasian attack ended when they reached the chamber at Berquḫurru’s zenith and confronted the lord of the fortress, the Bél-Multépiš Bíšulišán alongside a mysterious pursuer. In an instant the Bél-Multépiš teleported to some unknown place, leaving the squad alone with the unknown pursuer. When Anšar met eyes with the man he felt some unexplainable force wash over him and was stunned into silence by the appearance of the other man. He was malnourished, bald, and in rags like any other slave, but the strength in his tortured eyes, the visceral feeling of his powerful magic, and his attractiveness, obvious even under the ravages of slavery gave such a strong impression he would dwell on the memory of him for months, a feeling of deep longing eventually sprouting. Duty called, however, and the men nodded to eachother. The mysterious slave stealing Bíšulišán’s personal Šamędannatu and teleporting away while Anšar marched down to the fortress’s infirmary full of wounded from the failed attack Dur-Napšatbár and forced the surrendered pirates to watch has he and his men threw grenades into it, then having his men hang the unwilling spectators and departing, leaving the newly-freed slaves to claim the bounty of the fortress.
Pictured Above: Typical scene near the government-provided apartment where Anšar and his Blood-Brothers stayed
”May this covenant of blood bind us together as brothers for all time. May our bond be unbreakable, our resolve unshakable, like a fortress amidst a raging sea; six men, kin by war, brothers by ritual, each steadfast at the back of the other. As we indulge in the blood of our brothers let us speak with a single voice and act with a single purpose. May we become as a single being for the rest of eternity.”
-Blood Oath of Anšar and his Brothers
𒑂 INERTIA 𒑂
Shortly after this event, he entered the realm of politics after information was leaked implicating that the former-Šar Ešrášeššeténú Matáḫanáḫir had funded the pirates with the intention for them to destroy the station so he could use the station's destruction as an excuse to grant a lucrative defense contract to the Šúríni Tebírútu, the nation’s foremost arms manufacturer and one of many patrons it was revealed the former-Šar had. Once his forty-sixth year of service ended, he requested to leave and was honorably discharged. Anšar spent the following months in a government-provided apartment with five other veterans, each bearing the invisible wounds of war, and through the bond of mutual trauma they became easy friends. The six men made a pact in the traditional manner, each cutting their own palm and each drinking the blood from the palms of the others, and as each man had within their mouths the blood of the others, they spoke in a single voice, vowing an oath of lifelong brotherhood. As Anšar returned to civilian life, he began to be beset by intense night-terrors which he recognized as the progenitor of Tuquntumuḫḫu which he began trying to stave-off with narcotics. Over time, this condition would worsen exponentially and so would the sheer quantity of drugs he ingested to alleviate it. Anšar was undeterred by his night-terrors, however, believing it was his duty to fix the nation, regardless of the state of his own health. He made it difficult for his roommates to look after him as a brother, for in his typical impetuous fashion he gave himself no time to slow down and reacclimate to civilian-life, charging headfirst into the world of politics and joining the centrist big-tent party Ellat-Qabassu with holy fervor and quickly rising to prominence through his rousing and passionate speeches and appeals to the working-class, veterans, and the Shurayu pioneers in the farthest reaches of Republic space, and wielded his military service like a cudgel against his political opponents, his involvement in the Dur-Napšatbár incident it’s fiery club, swung with the speed and power of a meteor from the belief and conviction that it was both his civic and religious duty to purge the government of all corruption. His charisma and fervor did well to counteract his lack of experience, however, he soon realized the path ahead would not be so straightforward, seeing firsthand the corruption of the political apparatus from the inside, vast, heavy, and opaque like a sea of tar, too dense to be sailed by one unused to it's heavy waves, and so he came to the grim conclusion that he’d have to use the same avenues of corruption as those he sought to destroy if he was to attain the power and position he needed to fight his new war.
As if by divine providence, an enigmatic woman approached Anšar after one of his rallies on a remote moon that’d fended off a slaver incursion shortly before. She claimed to represent the mysterious underground organization Nír Lá Ániḫum, a clandestine organization of violent anti-corruption activists labelled a terrorist group by the government. The woman told him their interests aligned and that their leader, the elusive Nasáḫapar wished to speak to him. Anšar reluctantly accepted the invitation and ventured into an abandoned factory and met the man, having a long and deep private conversation that ended with Anšar joining the organization and taking on Nasáḫapar as a political mentor.
With the backing of Nír Lá Ániḫum and their web of connections and informants all across the Republic and through all social strata, Anšar had gained a significant ally, but he knew it still wasn’t enough to rival the mainstream career-politicians he was running against, with their near-infinite funding and a political apparatus that had been surreptitiously altered to serve their interests through generations of negligence. So, he reconnected with his old associates in the Hunzűwatrűmibrútu, the troublesome and foolhardy street-prince returning to his old bosses as a well-respected veteran with a holy fury in his eyes. He played on the immense goodwill he’d accrued with the organization as a boy and promised that if he won he’d ensure their business fronts were given government contracts and help them switch from the increasingly more unviable avenue of crime and go legit, a safer and much more lucrative pursuit. After weeks of negotiations, Anšar gained their support, along with the countless judges and representatives under their influence. And so after countless sleepless nights, Anšar, against all odds, with his passionate speeches and allies in the shadows, won the election of 10684 with 58% of the vote.
Pictured Above: Hall of the Šar within Dašarum-Lá-Šanán
”I am called Kakkulata Mandaru of Immanakkardadu, son of Baqqu and Dašpat. Two years ago on the thirteenth of Simanu of the year 16220 you visited a terrible fury upon the fortress of Berquḫurru and in doing so struck off the cruel chains of captivity from thousands, including myself. For seventy-and-seven years I yearned and plotted for freedom and with your attack my plans and wishes came to fruition. I owe my freedom to you. I owe my life to you. I am not a man who leaves debts unpaid. You are a good man, an honorable man, when you freed me I knew your name by the engraving in your breastplate though i knew nothing beyond it, but now the whole nation knows of you, Šar. To do what you’ve done can only be described as the feats of a great man and I can feel you are destined for greater things still. It would be my honor to be at your side as you ascend to your bold undertakings in whichever capacity you deem appropriate.”
𒑄 ŠAR 𒑄
Anšar began his tenure with the kind of theatrics one would come to expect from him, supervising the televised hanging of his traitorous predecessor Ešrášeššeténú Matáḫanáḫir in the center of Ál-Bélúti-Šúráya, then promising all other of his ilk the same fate, inspiring a wave of mob lynchings of government officials deemed corrupt across the rowdier areas of the republic, something he has neither condoned nor condemned. He kept his word to his Hunzűwatrűmibrútu associates, and now they make far more money through legal avenues than they ever did with their criminal ventures. As far as Nír Lá Ániḫum is concerned, he trusts in the plan, keeping silent while exchanging secret correspondences, biding his time until the political climate allows for the shadowy organization’s classification as a terrorist faction to be expunged. He’s passed legislation lowering rent nation-wide with great difficulty from the Bélútam along with bills subsidizing small independent arms companies that sell to frontier militias and bolstered the military’s budget overall. Anšar spent his political campaigning defaming the shadowy and corrupt influences in government and spent the entirety of his first moments in office continuing to vex them, and eventually they were wont to retaliate.
Five months into his tenure, while strolling amongst the verdant majesty of the gardens of Dašarum-Lá-Šanán as he often does during his free time to clear his head, Anšar was ambushed by a number of palatial guards, armed with nothing but the service pistol along with what spells his middling magical prowess could muster, he went shot-for-shot with his attackers from the behind the cover of a large stele. The fight went on for what felt like hours and Anšar had killed a number of his attackers but had sustained a number of injuries and the magical abilities of the palatial guards outclassed his basic fire magic. Just as the palatial guards began to surround him to finish him off, a flurry of frozen lightning felled many of the palatial guards and with the distraction it caused, Anšar was able to get a number of his own kills. The palatial guards bravely demonstrated a valiant defense against Anšar and his savior, but with so many of their comrades killed and their positions in the garden unsustainable they were eventually felled as well. When Anšar truly looked at the person who’d saved him, he knew in an instant who it was. That rebellious slave from Berquḫurru had changed much since they’d last met, he had a full head of hair and a beard denoting a freeman and his body was stronger and fuller, but he possessed the very same steely-gaze that had burned itself into his dreams. The ex-slave spoke with his hands to which Anšar didn’t understand, but when next he handed a well-scribed letter all was clear. The man’s name was Kakkulata Mandaru and he had come to pay Anšar back for his kindness. When Anšar looked up at him he saw in his eyes an expression he’d been trained to recognize back when he served in the Temple of Ištar, affection, and in that moment he realized he felt it too.
After the attack, Anšar exercised his right as Šar to replace the members of the palatial guard, and so to the supreme displeasure of his political opponents, the ranks of the palatial guard swell with men he served with in the army and secret Nír Lá Ániḫum operatives all lead by the five men he made his pact of brotherhood with when he’d first come back to civilian life. In regards to him and Mandaru, from that moment in the garden onwards, the two men were rarely seen apart, and in the span of eight months which passed by like a fever dream they went from friends to loving husbands. The two men are now crucial to eachother, both are deeply scarred by their experiences in life and memories of their most painful moments often torment them and addle their minds even when they wake, and as they both intimately understand that kind of pain, they are able to, in their own way, help eachother get just a little better every day.
✵ POLICIES ✵
Since taking power Kinzirű Anšar has enacted a series of policies, they have resulted in:
Imprisonment & execution of several corrupt government officials
Continued job growth
Increased military spending
Increased immigration to frontier worlds
Extermination of numerous frontier criminal organizations
✵ POLITICAL OPINIONS ✵
Politically, Anšar is hardly revolutionary, believing in a fairly traditional Atrahasian Republic, unsurprising, considering that is the ideology which has been instilled into virtually every Shurayu since the inception of the nation. His only differentiation from traditional Atrahasian Political Canon is the support of a mixed-market economic system, rather than the utopic laissez-faire system prescribed by Atrahasian literature and philosophers, along with a pronounced support of devolution from his years spent in isolated Shurayu communities on the fringes of the Republic, witnessing the inefficiency of the corrupt and over-centralized government bureaucracy first-hand, seeing how more rugged non-incorporated settlements fared much better than their incorporated neighbors, noting that “You'll never rule someone light years away more competently than they can.” His stance on political ideologies can be best summed up when he declared "Ideology is ultimately irrelevant, so long as the rights of the people are not infringed upon and they are found not wanting, but flourishing without having to look behind their backs, the government is doing its job properly. The fact the dogmatic application of the ŠIPÁR ATRAḪASÍSI leads to such an outcome is... eh, we’ll just call it a happy coincidence and leave it at that." Unsurprisingly, he is an outspoken Civil Militarist, meaning he strongly believes all citizens should have some training in martial affairs, be it attending a gun range or going to a military school for the civic defense of the republic and the deterrence of piracy.
✵ PERSONALITY & PSYCHE ANALYSIS ✵
Anšar is generally passive, warm, and highly gregarious. He is respectful and amicable to others, seemingly able to charm almost anyone. He seldom ever uses his uncanny charisma to take advantage of people however, enjoying conversation for conversation's sake, a most Un-Shurayu trait. Even when insulted he has an otherworldly serenity and joviality about himself, not allowing mere words to appear to have an effect. He is confident, and seems to be at his best when empowering others. His sanguine personality along with his appearance has spawned a number of conspiracy theories, with many people believing his unusually warm and mellow temperament to be a direct result of the influence of his patron Ištar, this theory supported by the the first-hand reports of Anšar's inverse ruthless brutality towards his enemies in a battlefield setting, a known indicator of Ištaric influence.
Under all this, however, Anšar’s mind exists in a state of utter anguish.
In a nation devoid of any understanding or care for mental infirmities, those who suffer with plagues of the mind do so in silence and shadow, for such mental injuries are seen as shameful and impertinent; Anšar is one such sufferer. Anšar is deeply emotional, even without Shurayu standards, a pliant and colorful sponge that easily absorbs all the words and sights it’s faced with. In a society such as that of the Shurayu, which traditionally abhors not only the exhibition, but the feeling of heavy emotion in any public setting, Anšar’s emotional temperament is an inherent source of scorn, mercifully offset by his otherworldly charisma, not just of tongue, but of appearance as well. Originating from the beatings and ridicule inflicted upon him by his teachers as a child for his lack of discipline and (at the time) poor academic performance, Anšar possesses an inferiority complex that only dissipates in desperate moments, (which explains his excellent leadership skills during battle), however if he finds himself failing in any leadership capacity, the complex returns and he feels all the worse. The only reason Anšar even thought to pursue the position of Šar was because his zealotry and rage overrid his sense of inferiority.
Along with this, he has a severe detachment disorder borne of the years of having no singular home or family after his mother's death, exacerbated first by Parahšu’s abrupt abandonment, and exacerbated further with the deaths of each of his men over the years, especially Lakmesi. As a result of this, Anšar keeps his friends as close to him as possible, and checks on them each day, regardless of where they might be.
The latest, and most immediately threatening of his mental maladies is his gradually worsening PTSD (Tuquntumuḫḫu). For eight years Anšar managed to fight with a clean mind, but as his days of fighting ended, and his mind reeled from a life without near-constant regiment and conflict, nightmares began, and with those nightmares came anxiety, rage and countless other horrible things, compounding each day as the accumulated trauma of eight years of war surrounds his exhausted psyche like a black cloud.
Before he met Mandaru, the only ways he knew to stave off these monumental stresses were spending time with his pet gibbon, Maṭíšéli, exercise, and his old-faithful- narcotics, typically Qunnabu, though there isn’t a drug under heaven he won’t do. Despite the stresses and despite the suffering, Anšar will never abdicate from his position, not until his term is over, for the way he sees it, it would be a betrayal of the trust his kin put in him by voting for him, a betrayal of Ištar, who commands it’s followers to seek justice, and a betrayal of all those who died due to the corruption in government and society, which he swore to destroy. Anšar is self-sacrificing far-beyond what is rational and will break before he gives up on his quest.
At the end of the day, Anšar never had a chance at being like his kin, for as he grew in his mother’s womb, Ištar, God of Love-and-War decided he should be it’s Ṣillim, and as such impressed into Anšar’s very essence it’s own unyielding temperament. He has always failed to fulfill the expectations of the Atrahasian Standard of Morality because he can’t meet them at a fundamental level. No matter what he does, how hard he tries, and for how long, he will never be like his kin. He can gain attraction and affection through his looks, he can gain their loyalty and admiration through his silver-tongue, but he will never truly be one of them.
For a time his condition seemed truly hopeless, but as he met Mandaru, his mental state has begun to heal in earnest. He still has terrible nightmares, PTSD attacks, and still abuses drugs, but the mere prescence of Mandaru seems sufficient enough to ward off much of Anšar’s mental and emotional issues or at the very least comfort him whenever he’s in their grasp. As is looks now, there’s a distant light at the end of the tunnel for Anšar, as his mental maladies and the bad habits born of them seem to recede somewhat every day.
✵ MISCELLANEOUS FACTS ✵
Most Shurayu children are expected to learn an instrument, which was the electric guitar in Anšar's case, however his passion for playing guitar was never waned over time and he has become a skilled guitarist.
He has been smoking since age 11.
Anšar often likes to go river or lake fishing and unwind with his friends and family and barbecue what they catch.
Anšar is an avid Poker player like most Shurayu, and is very skilled.
He is a regular at his local temple and takes great pleasure in worshiping his gods, especially his Ilu-Mušallimu, Ištar, the Love-War-God
He enjoys consuming narcotics in his off-time, particularly Qunnabu, and is always happy to share.
Anšar is an amateur artist, who often draws various bizarre scenarios in a minimalist style.
Anšar is a passionate martial artist, and a particularly precocious student in Yolkian Kickboxing, and Shurayu Shadowdancing (Similar to Vale Tudo).
Standing at 7'2, Anšar is considered a manlet by Shurayu standards, being 3 inches shorter than most men.
Due to one of the side-effects of an experimental combat-enhancing drug Anšar's company was given, the growth of his beard is stunted, which is a source of private shame.
Anšar has a 4 year old pet lar gibbon named Maṭíšéli, usually shortened to 'Maṭí'.
For fun, Anšar used to go to his local parks and use his looks to bait pedophiles into ambushes where him and his friends would jump the pedophiles and steal their wallets.
As a small child, Anšar used to forage for pillbugs and eat them.
Anšar sends his political opponents unsolicited highly-explicit sexual videos right before debates to throw them off.
Anšar loves honey and uses it in almost every dish he makes, even if it clearly isn't suited for said dish. When given food, he's been known to dunk it in honey as if it's a sauce.
Anšar's Ṣulátipaṭír has thus far accrued 187 skulls taken from the most powerful enemies he has felled, along with countless other bones and trophies taken from lesser enemies.
✵ PERSONAL LIFE ✵
Anšar resides in the legendary palace of Dašarum Lá Šanán deep within the Garden District in the capital of Shuraya, it is a colossal palace structure that’s stood strong for millennia, unfazed by the ravage of time, housing the the thousands of the nation's Šars within it's storied walls that immaculately represent the architectural virtues of the Shurayu. He pays a handsome tithe to the Temple of his Ilu-Mušallimu, Ištar and some even believe that he is the Ṣillim-Ištar due to his intense devotion andhim embodying everything that Ištar represents. When not working, he's almost always with Mandaru or his friends. The typical activities he enjoys in order to de-stress and pass through his freetime, which for him is a dangerous thing if he finds nothing constructive to do, are tending to the palace gardens, exercising, reading, playing guitar, and playing sports. He is known to be kind, sanguine, and well humored to those around him, often inviting high-profile comedians to perform at the palace for him and the palace's attendants on his dime. He is partial to tunics, shawls, and small earrings, and is always wearing his pendant made of lapis lazuli and gold depicting the eight-pointed star of Ištar.
✵ QUOTES ✵
"Vanity is at the root of the state because the idea that someone can determine what other people can do and will not be corrupted by power is to say that mortals can gain the power of a god without becoming a demon. However, such vanity may be curved with proper morals, values, and restraints, all of which can be found in the ŠIPÁR ATRAḪASÍSI"
"Our noble republic has been defiled by insidious villains in all levels of government, I swear by my beloved ancestors, by all the mighty gods in heaven, and by you, my brothers and sisters I shall hunt these traitors down to the last like the animals they are and let the light of justice burn away the flesh from their wretched bodies!"
"Our Great Founder, ATRAḪASÍS (Honored Be His Name) taught us to think of our society as a body, the Head: the Self, the Loins: the Family, the Body: the Community, and the Limbs: the Nation. I stand here before you and declare our society has regressed to the point where Shurayu society is little more than a head slowly decaying in a jar. Over years of poor government and cultural terrorism, the teachings of ATRAḪASÍS and our noble ancestors have been gradually forsaken. We don't talk to our families like we should, we don't participate in our communities like we should, and nowadays patriotism to many is a meaningless word. I propose that it isn't the rampant corruption that caused this, quite the contrary actually, I believe it is because we has forgotten who we are as a society that has made us vulnerable to corruption."
"To me, my regard for my gods is a point of pride. I love them with all my heart, for they are the symbols of our people and protect us from threats we aren't even capable of comprehending. My Ilu-Mušallimu is Ištar, Master of Love and War, who preserves my life and guides my hand, the one to whom I pledge my eternal soul to."
On His Military Service:
"For forty-six years I fought evil across the republic. I fought for this sacred republic, to honor and preserve the legacy of innumerable generations, to protect the good men alongside me, to protect the countless innocents caught in the middle- and avenge them when necessary. I fought for the glory of Ištar, to immerse myself in it's Aspect of War. I have bathed in the blood of my enemies, and as their blood cracked and darkened upon my flesh it became a second-skin. Black armor made from the lifeforce of the unworthy, forged through holy violence and blessed by the War God, it's presence a promise to my enemies: ‘The blood of your fallen comrades strengthens me as I drive my anointed falcatas through your hearts. Your blood will join with theirs just as your souls join theirs in the Fundamental Chaos. I will do this, again, and again, and again, until your whole accursed organization is dust under the feet of the righteous.’ I have dismantled fortresses and hanged droves of men. I have struck terror into the hearts of my enemies and inspired love and bravery in the hearts of my comrades. I feel naught but pride for my actions. The killing of the wicked are a sacrifice upon the altar of war whereby my devotion and strength multiplies; the same cannot be said of my fallen comrades, may Our Ancestors receive them kindly as the heroes they were. The memories of their deaths will remain with me for the rest of my life, never will there be a time where I do not miss them and lament their passing."
On His Trauma:
"When I was diagnosed with Tuquntumuḫḫu I felt like I was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. I’ve seen what it does to people. I’ve seen strong, disciplined, stalwart, good men torn up and ripped apart by it. A precious few manage to get over it, most just… Break. It starts off bad, night terrors, a little extra anxiety, maybe you get a little short-tempered, but it gets worse and worse over time, you start to get all violent over nothing, start to see things that aren’t there, and those symptoms I mentioned before get worse and worse until through sheer force of will you get over it, or you do yourself in, and in all my years it’s almost always ended in the latter. What always struck me about Tuquntumuḫḫu is how unfair it is, those who get it are victors, survivors. It isn’t right that we go through all that horror just to die broken men as the aftershock of our experiences destroys us."
"Thanks to Ištar I don't get all bent out of shape over killing, but that doesn't negate the innate horror and madness of war, nor does it help cope with the deaths of so many of those I've cared for, called brother, even. For me, It started after Dur-Napšatbár, with nightmares, memories of Lakmesi screaming for help as some bastard Multépiš's fire melts him away, and quickly spiraled from there. You think I smoke a bushel of Qunnabu a day ‘cause I want to spend my tenure getting high? It’s the only effective way I know of that keeps the combined horror of eight years of near constant combat from overwhelming me. I pray to every god in heaven everyday and beg them to give me reprieve, but they have given me nothing. I don’t begrudge them for it, mind you, I love them utterly and they know better than me. Regardless, I have a mission, I will purge the corrupt, I will destroy the pirates on the frontier, and I will help my brothers and sisters reconcile the Illilútu with the ŠIPÁR ATRAḪASÍSI, the growing tide of horror surrounding me be damned."
(Spoken to a close friend in confidence)
On His Ascension:
"I hate that I won like this. I hate myself for allowing this, for becoming a hypocrite, for becoming what I despise. But I had to do this, I know that, and if I had to do it again... I would. This was my necessary sin. I have used corruption as one would use a poison to try and understand it- to try and create an antidote, if only that excuse made it less sickening. But what's done is done, I am Šar, I have used corruption, and now I will destroy it."
"I know I'm a tweaker, I know I can hardly sleep from nightmares, I know some sounds cause me to melt-down like some nutjob, I know. I know I’m thirty and unmarried, I know I’m thirty and childless, I know that makes me, the ‘Devotee of the Love God’, look like a total jerkoff, I know. I know me trying to champion the ŠIPÁR ATRAḪASÍSI when I fail to obey Išdu and Pútuḫḫillutu makes me look like a total hypocrite, I get it. But I try, you know? I really do. I put all the strength I can muster into this job every single day. That's what I promise. I’m not some genius Atrahasian philosopher that stands rigidly like a pillar and never smiles, subsisting off unseasoned rice, water, and ancient rhetoric, but I’ll show up. I’ll show up every godsdamned day and work myself to the bone trying to do right by my People. Yes, I am utterly devoted to Ištar-the-Great, but I am devoted to You All too, these things aren’t mutually exclusive. The Ur-Iláni aren't callous tyrants that lord over us, they're our parents and they love us as any parents would, their commandments don't misalign with the morals borne of the immortal wisdom of ATRAḪASÍS after their temporary departure because how could any loving parent return to a healthy and successful child and tell them what they've done is wrong? I don’t work with pirates, I kill them. I don’t do business with slavers, I kill them, I’ve done it for eight years in the army, and I’ll keep doing it now, just not as directly. That’s something you can be assured of, I’ll always be in the People’s corner, unlike the snake that came before me, unlike all these snakes that seem to infest the government on all levels."
(Spoken to a close friend in confidence)
"I spent thirty years unmarried, a decade longer than any man should, and that horrified me and I began to think maybe no-one would ever come... Thank you, Ištar, thank you so much for this, Mandaru is the greatest gift I could have ever received, had I known my husband were to be him I'd have happily waited a thousand years. He is perfection far beyond my wildest imaginings. There is nothing under the prevue of heaven I wouldn't do for him. We make eachother better, you know? We both got problems, problems on problems on even more problems, but we help eachother whenever and however we can- and it works."
"He is a fatuous little boy, who has no business running a brothel let alone this glorious republic, this lecherous dolt is an insult to the hallowed title "Šar."
- Opposition Leader
"He'll go on to do great things in life, I know it. He's a good and clever boy who spreads joy wherever he is, though he's emotional, like a woman. I would know."
- His Mother, Kinzirű Asatum
"He has an awfully punchable face, but I've got a feeling he'll punch back a lot harder."
- Random Citizen
"Kinzirű is a drop of fresh water in this ocean of uptight pompous villains."
- Philosopher, Amarru Supakku
"He's a brother to me. Whenever me or anybody else was scared or uncertain he'd notice, and he'd make sure we felt better. We never felt like pawns or like he thought himself better than us. He cared and always did right by us to the best of his ability, and always lead from the front, there was no place for us to be but at his back."
- Former Comrade, Imtanű Atamu
"Kinzirű-Rab-Kiṣri is the most gallant soldier I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. He’s fearless, ferocious, and always eager to join the front lines against the enemy. Beyond that, he’s a great leader. I’ve never seen a company as cohesive and devoted to their commander as his, but it’s not a mystery as to why. I’ve seen with my own eyes the kindness, patience, and tenderness he affords to his men, he entertains them with crass jokes and plays his guitar for them and when they're out-of-line as he needs do is softly reprimand them and they immediately revise their behavior with such haste and desperation you’d think they’d been whipped raw. I’m not quite sold on all that Ištaric business he does, what with all the weird blood rituals, but I admit he does seem extra vicious when he’s covered head-to-toe in some pirate’s blood. Speaking of that, I thank the Ur-Iláni everyday that he’s on our side. Listen, I hate the vile trash infesting the frontier as much as anyone else, but Kinzirű is brutal. It’s disturbing really, seeing such a kind, warm, and easygoing man turn into a blood-thirsty shotgun-wielding monster in an instant. I know about all the brutalizations and extrajudicial hangings, they may not be especially up to regulations, but you won’t see me saying anything, at the end of the day, his methods work."
- Rab Múgi of the Išátumámuqarnú, Šutukku Mutušélabiš
"Heed my words Slut of Bábilméš, this victory is fleeting. The people will soon grow bored of having some fanatical whore leading them."
- Former-Šar, Ešrášeššeténú Matáḫanáḫir
"There was a time I worried for the Šar, all round up like a caged tiger, Tuquntumuḫḫu and his noose-happy war against corruption stressing him ever nearer to a certain breaking point, but that Mandaru fellow he married seems able to be able to turn back the clock, good on him."
- Anšar's Physician
Rab Kiṣri - Captain
Ur-Maššašéssú - The Twinblades, Anšar's adolescent gang
Hunzűwatrűmibrútu - The Hunzű Mafia, A powerful criminal organization
Ur-Buḫrušamšú - The Boiling Suns, a rival gang to the Twinblades
Ištar - The Shurayu God of Love and War
Níburabű - Adultname, given to a Shurayu once they turn 20 by someone close to them. Refers to their personality and/or appearance
Iṣṣúrišátiš - Firebird, refers to Anšar's bright, fiery personality, and unignorable presence
Műṣar Bét-Ṭuppiḫayál - Műṣar Military University, the foremost military school in Shuraya
Išátumámuqarnú - Horns of the Fire Beast, one of the most fearsome infantry regiments of the Atrahasian Army
Anšar Ṭábiḫa - Anšar the Hangman, a nickname earned after his actions in the Battle of Iškúrtam
Multépišú - Mages, Shurayu with magical training
Kašád Saḫap-Tánti - Operation Seagull, a covert operation by the Atrahasian Army to steal the Napšutaširpam-stores in the pirate asteroid-city of Katmutakkassu
Napšutaširpam - Soul-Fuel, a potent fuel made of refined souls, used to power a great deal of Shurayu machinery and sometimes used in weapons
Surdűnasíka - Fallen Hawk, temporary ally of Anšar during Operation Seagull
Dur-Napšatbár - Mining station attacked by the Burumkuš with the financial support of Šar Ešrášeššeténú Matáḫanáḫir
Bél-Multépiš - Magelord, a mage in a position of power
Šamędannatu - Heavenly Fortress, spacecraft of the Shurayu
Šúríni Tebírútu - Ironbrow Armorer’s Guild, one of the foremost arms manufacturers in Shuraya
Nír Lá Ániḫum - Unwavering Light, a clandestine antigovernmental organization classified as a terrorist group
Maṭíšéli - Little Climber, the name of Anšar's pet gibbon
Dašarum Lá Šanán - The-Palace-Without-Rival, headquarters of the Ékallum and residence of the Šar
Ṣillim-Ištar - The Shadow of Ištar, It's avatar upon the mortal plane
ŠIPÁR ATRAḪASÍSI - The Tenets of ATRAḪASÍS, guiding principles of the Shurayu
Qunnabu - Cannabis
ATRAḪASÍS - The man who freed the Shurayu and founded Shuraya, creator of Atrahasianism
Tuquntumuḫḫu - War-Mind, Shurayu equivalent of PTSD
Ilu-Mušallimu - Tutelary Deity, the God whom a Shurayu pledges themselves to
Rab Múgi - Colonel