Lost Lands, Forgotten Realms

by Bob Curran

  Moloch

  Moloch appears in both Semitic and early Arab mythology. It is a complicated deity, taking on a number of guises such as a man with the head of a bull. The name is thought to have derived from the words molech (king) or boseth (shame), and is usually taken to refer to a dark and barbaric entity (although this may not strictly be the case). In Semitic folklore he is portrayed as one of the enemies of Yahweh (the chief god of the Israelites), and is sometimes equated with Ba’al, the corn/fertility god of the Canaanites. It was thought that Moloch demanded human sacrifice from his followers to ensure good harvests (perhaps something similar to the sacrifices offered up to the Crom Cruach in pre-Christian Celtic Ireland), especially the sacrifice of children. In Semitic tradition, it was said that such worship took place in the valley of Gei-ben-Hinnom (Gehenna), the Valley of Hinnom’s son, which lay near the city of Jerusalem. The steep-walled valley had a particularly sinister reputation and was said, at its most northerly end, to contain the Tophet, a large enclosed area in which small children were ritually burned to death in honor of Moloch. Unsurprisingly, the name Gehenna soon became equated with Hell. Arab mystics asserted that the Tophet was an area where the world of men and the Otherworld overlapped, and where the god could take burning children to himself. This had overtones of muquarribun lore that said the Rub-el-Khali was also the “gateway to Hell.” Because the Tophet was supposedly located in the very heart of Irem, according to Bedouin folklore, it suggested that the city itself might also be somewhere in the vastness of the Empty Quarter.

  Another god that was said to have been traditionally worshipped in Irem was Khadhulu, the Abandoner or Forsaker. There is supposed to be a reference to Khadhulu in a rumored, fragmentary text known as the al-Kadiff, or al-Khadiff, although no trace of such a work now appears to exist. However, the reference would seem to be only a passing one, and the name Khadhulu may be no more than another Arabic name for the Semitic Moloch. Yet another given name is Shaitan (enemy) from which our name Satan derives. Whether or not Khadhulu is one of the djinn or not is unclear, but its significance in Arab mysticism is twofold. The main thrust is that Khadhulu will promise Mankind great things, but will ultimately abandon or forsake him; the second, that the entity will cause Mankind to abandon or forsake the true faith that is Islam. According to some Arabic legends, Khadhulu had his soul in Irem, and the king Shaddad was his physical embodiment. In Semitic folklore, Khadhulu seems to have been a “fallen angel” or “son of God.”

  Readers cannot fail to have noted the similarity between the names Khadhulu and Cthulhu in Lovecraft’s fiction, and the resemblance between the legendary Al-Khaddif in Bedouin lore and the Al-Azif among his list of forbidden books. Is it possible that Lovecraft himself picked up on some of the Arab and Semitic mythologies, adapting them for his fiction? And that part of that mythology became embodied in the sinister city of Irem, the image of which haunts some of his work?

  The dark and sinister city, then, certainly exists in Arabic folklore, but is there anything in the history of Arabia that might link with it? Indeed, there would appear to be, but the location moves a little from the Rub-el-Khali or Empty Quarter of the Sahara Desert and further down onto the Arabian Gulf.

  Sodom and Gomorrah

  Of course there are a number of stories of mysterious Arabian cities that have been overwhelmed by natural disasters—either by sandstorms, or even by the sea. The two most famous cities, of course, are Sodom and Gomorrah, which are said, according to legend, to lie somewhere under the Dead Sea. Similar to the story of Irem, they were destroyed by God because of the wickedness and perceived “unnatural practices” of their inhabitants. For example, in Sodom it was said that widespread homosexuality was prevalent; leading to the derivation of the word sodomy in modern times. The fate of the two cities served as a warning to others. Only one righteous man—Lot—was spared, but his wife was supposedly turned into a pillar of salt for looking back to witness their destruction. Although mentioned in the Bible as historical sites, many scholars today argue as to whether Sodom and Gomorrah actually existed or whether the tale is simply a cautionary fable.

  Ubar

  The name Iruma (Irem) appears in connection with another vanished city, significantly also located in the Empty Quarter. This was the trading city of Ubar, and it is known that such a place existed. Ubar was an extremely wealthy metropolis that lay on a main trade route between the desert kingdoms and the sea. Its major trade was frankincense, from which it had derived most of its prosperity. Frankincense is an aromatic resin, initially used in Middle Eastern perfumes and was derived from the bark of the boswellia tree, large acreages of which grew in Yemen. Although it is named as frankincense (from the Franks who first introduced it to Europe), it was also known as olibanum throughout the Middle East (from the Arabic al-luban—“the milk”), and was prized among the elite and wealthy of the Arabic society. Indeed, in the biblical tale, it is one of the gifts offered to the infant Jesus in the manger by the Three Wise Men. Much of its production was based in Yemen, but its popularity means that it was exported to both the Arab and Asian worlds. Ubar, which lay near what is today the borders of Yemen, was a major center for such trade.

  Scholars knew of Ubar’s existence from records found in the ruins of another city. This was the city of Ebla in Syria, 20 miles south west of Aleppo. In its heyday, Ebla maintained a large and extensive library of cuneiform texts, mainly relating to economic matter (Ebla itself was a trading city) and it is here that Ubar is mentioned. Ebla seems to have traded with Ubar and refers to it from time to time as Iruma. It also clarifies the phrase “of the pillars.” The word “pillars” would appear to be a mistranslation, and the word should in fact be “towers.” Ubar, it would appear, was heavily defended—perhaps against desert raiders—and had prominent fortifications consisting of a number of high towers. This also gave protection to camel trains coming across the desert and seeking shelter within its walls. It is described as a place of inordinate wealth and culture, trading with Asia and the Arabic world.

  Around A.D. 1000, all reference to Ubar suddenly ceases, as if the city had disappeared. It was generally assumed that because of some natural catastrophe, it had been abandoned and claimed by the desert, although some legends state that it had be “swallowed up by the earth” (this turned out to be literally true). However, the general consensus was that it had been overwhelmed by a terrible sandstorm, and it still lay there, somewhere under the desert. This gave it the nickname “The Atlantis of the Desert.”

  For a long time, Ubar remained an intriguing myth, and noone really knew what had befallen it or why it had been abandoned. In 1984, however, the orbital Challenger satellite, monitoring the old Middle East spice routes as part of a historical research program, picked out what appeared to be the remnants of an old road system, which appeared to have been designed for camel trains in the Dhofar Province of southern Oman. Further investigation using X-Ray scanning revealed the surrounding area was the roof of a large underground limestone cavern, filled with a huge subterranean lake that had formed a water-table for a city built above it. However, as the inhabitants of the city drew water from the cavern through a series of wells, the water table within the cavern had lowered considerably. Deprived of its buoyant support, the cavern roof weakened and collapsed, swallowing the city above. The gaping abyss was subsequently covered by the encroaching desert. The city that had literally fallen into the hole was Ubar. Although ruins remained, they were soon depopulated, and the inhabitants were scattered throughout the Middle East and parts of Asia. Challenger also picked out traces of other lost cities along the frankincense route, dating from as early as 2800 B.C.; it was estimated that by its location, Ubar acted as an important center for that trade. The date of the collapse is estimated at around A.D. 500 or even slightly later, which would tie in with the disappearance of the city from all records. The camel trains simply went elsewhere.

  The area, according to tradition (and perhaps with some foun
dation) was believed to be the center for a branch of Islam not found anywhere else (although it has since spread to Algeria and Libya). This was Ibadism, distinct from both Sunni and Sh’ia factions, taking its name from Abdullah Ibn Ibad at Tamini (although he may not exactly have been the sect’s founder) who was a prophet less than 50 years after the death of Mohammed. Rumor has it that this strict branch of Islam, which regards the Sunni and Sh’ia traditions as kuffar (unbelievers or “those who deny God’s grace”), has a more mystical branch that is perhaps tinged with some of the beliefs of the Asian continent and may contain elements of older pre-Islamic faiths that have been modified. At one time, this Islamic tradition was only found in Oman, and seemed to be centered where Ubar had once stood. Given its trade with Asia and other parts of the East, had new philosophies crept in to slightly influence Islam in this area?

  The notion of Irem then—the monstrous city that haunts the shadows of Lovecraft’s fiction (and which, through Alhazared is central to the idea of the Necronomicon)—is a complex mixture of folklore and history. Was it the frankincense-trading city of Ubar, which fell into an underground cavern and was lost for almost a thousand years? Or does it relate more to the lore of the muqarribun, the Ghost Priests who traced it back to a monstrous pre-Adamite metropolis raised by the “Old Ones”?

  Whatever the answer, Irem seems a strange, terrible, and shadow-haunted place; perhaps its actual location lies somewhere in the darkest depths of the human imagination. This maybe is the truth of the fabled City of Pillars.

  16

  Bimini and the Fountain of Youth

  Few mythical places have actual locations formally named after them. El Dorado County in California is one such place. Bimini, a present-day district of the Bahamas administration, is another, named after an earthly and mystical paradise in Arawak folklore. Today the district of Bimini is comprised of a chain of small islands in the Bahamas, but in folklore, it was the Arawak equivalent of the Garden of Eden, and the place from which human life had sprung. The name means “The Mother of Waters,” and it was thought that in Bimini, the rest of the world was created from the ocean. But it held another secret: Bimini was believed to be the location of the fabled Fountain of Eternal Youth. And, similar to El Dorado, it was the Spanish exploration of America that brought Bimini to its legendary prominence.

  Since earliest times, the idea of living forever or of being forever young has both excited and entranced the human imagination; such a concept has often been associated with water. An ancient legend, perhaps even predating the Sumerian civilization, tells of the Sons of Parthalon, a prehistoric king who rode out questing for the fabled Waters of Oblivion, which held the power of life and death over mortals. Such Waters, it was said, gushed out of the rock in a great fountain, and those who drank from them would either die instantly or, using the proper incantations, live forever. Such a geyser was located in an arid barren land “where no man dwelt,” and was sometimes equated with the Land of Nod, to which Cain was banished after killing his brother Abel. According to the legend, all the Sons of Parthalon were killed either in the quest or, when they located the Fountain, by drinking from the waters, without the proper incantations; and in despair, the old king killed himself by slashing his own throat while seated on his rock throne. The story may of course be simply a metaphor for the transition of power from one dynasty to another in the prehistoric world. Later, as similar legends grew up, the waters lost their deadly properties and granted only eternal youth to the drinker. However, the location where they gushed forth from the Earth remained unknown.

  Bethsaida

  The idea of the Fountain of Youth became entwined with legends concerning other healing fountains, wells, or pools. For instance, one of the most famous healing pools was at Bethsaida in the Holy Land, and is mentioned in the New Testament where Jesus healed the man who could not walk. However, the Pool of Bethsaida did not heal all the time, but only when the waters there became “disturbed” (when an “angel troubled the waters”), and then only for a brief period. According to the Gospel, the crippled man could not make it into the waters in time, so Jesus healed him in situ as it were.

  Perhaps taking their lead from the Bethsaida tradition, and an equally famous healing Pool at Siloam, the location of the Fountain of Youth was placed largely in either the Middle East or Eastern Europe. Part of this belief stems from a series of texts dating from the second and third centuries that have been accorded the title The Alexander Romance. These are a collection of tales and myths concerning the hero Alexander the Great, where he often plays a central role, although some of the stories may well predate Alexander’s time.

  Alexander and the Quest for Eternal Life

  In one of these stories, Alexander and a servant go on a quest to find the Fountain of Life, which is located in a mysterious country on the eastern shores of the Black Sea. It is referred to in the story as Abkhazia, or the Land of Endless Night, and it is continually in darkness or wreathed in a perpetual fog. There are, however, people living there—this is born from the people in the surrounding lands who can hear voices emanating from the dark or mist. These are believed to be the guardians of the Fountain of Youth and are known as the Hanyson, who have given their name to a district known as Hamshan in present-day Turkey. They were allegedly the descendants of an army of the Persian king Shapur II who, according to an old Christian fable, persecuted a number of Christians who were living in the area and stole their lands. In retaliation, God punished them by cursing the land with perpetual darkness and mist, preventing them from leaving their territory. In the story, Alexander crosses this misty land and finds the Fountain, but does not drink from it. His servant, however, does so and becomes immortal, but finds that he cannot leave the Land of Endless Night. He continues to live there forever among the Hanyson. Whether or not Abkhazia was an actual kingdom bordering on the Black Sea is unclear, but it appears to have been far enough away and perceived as such an exotic location as to be the site of the Fountain of Youth.

  Finding the Fountain

  As time went on, however, the actual location of the Fountain of Youth seemed to shift as new tales about it began to circulate in the West. Such tales seem to have been at their high point in Europe around the 13th or 14th centuries, and this probably coincided with slightly greater travel among the wealthy (who often went on pilgrimages to distant holy sites), and a general rise in the secretive practice of alchemy. Besides, trying to discover the Philosopher’s Stone (which was supposed to turn base metal into pure gold), these early scientists were also concerned with finding the Emerald Tablet (if mixed in a glass of wine would confer immortality upon the drinker). Whispers of such study, of course, generated a popular interest in the notion of living forever and of eternal youth.

  In the 1100s, for example, it was thought that the Fountain lay somewhere in Ireland—then a mysterious and largely unexplored country. Writing around 1185, the scholar Geraldus Cambresius (Gerald of Wales), firmly asserted that somewhere in the Wicklow Mountains there was a lake where if a man washed his hair, “though it be white as snow,” it would return to its natural color. Other writers, such as the monk Jocelyn of Furness, based at Inch Abbey in present-day County Down, stated that there were lakes in the Mourne Mountains famed for their restorative powers.

  Another location that were given for the Fountain were the eastern Caucasus Mountains in Russian Georgia. Here, during the mid-15th century, several ruins of defensive towers had been found bearing a legend carved into the stone that they had been erected by Prester John. Apparently, the purpose of these fortifications had been to protect the West (and the Fountain of Youth) from the advancing hordes of the Tartars. Thus, the gushing Fountain was located somewhere among the high passes of the frowning mountains.

  Not only this, but the Fountain was also supposedly located somewhere in the Arabian deserts. This belief was largely due to a number of stories told about the mysterious Al Khidr, a sage and early Moslem holy man (in some branch
es of Islam, he is revered as a saint), who was supposedly a contemporary of the biblical patriarch Moses. A number of tales are attributed to him including the formation of a number of magical and restorative springs in the desert. One of these was said to be the Fountain of Youth. Later, some of his “miracles” would be attributed to Moses himself—in one instance, Moses is said to have struck a rock with his staff, causing water to gush forth and so restore and refresh the Israelites. The stories of Al Khidr and the Fountain of Youth were at one time extremely popular in Moorish Spain where the storytellers may well have had contact with early explorers and seamen coming from the New World.

  The linking of the mysterious personage of Prester John with the restorative Fountain, however, served to move its location even further East. The enigmatic Christian king had been thought, during the early medieval period, to be a ruler somewhere in either China or India, so thinkers began to believe that the Fountain lay there. Even in the late 1400s, it was said by some to be found somewhere among the Himalayas where Prester John ruled as a lama-king of a mysterious land. Some even claimed that the Fountain had been mentioned in the alleged letter that the ruler had sent to Emperor Manuel I to encourage requested aid. It was also mentioned in the rather spurious Travels of Sir John Mandeville as being located somewhere in the Far East and in the realm of Prester John.

  For many years, alchemists in places such as Prague bought vials of water from travelers who claimed that this was indeed a sample taken from the Fountain in a far-away place. Some of these were then used to prepare the elusive Emerald Tablet without any success. The notion of the restorative waters, then, remained an intriguing and romantic mystery, which lay somewhere beneath the surface of formal legend.