Fictional Archaeologists Novels & Stories

"We have to get to Kianzangi and Lemuria somehow. Maybe if we offer to help find priceless artifacts they'll take us on." "Hmmm," Zinjo scratched behind his ear, "I don't know anything about Archaeology." "Neither do I, but they don't need to know that. Technically we won't be lying, we do have to explore Lemuria for the runes." "Let's hope we don't come to regret this decision."

Three mercenaries to their foolishness after taking a dip in a crocodile infested river, and finally professor Engler to yellow fever. As expected of the hazard behind our esteemed occupation as archeologists, we knew the risk before embarking on our quest to open the old world to the new, taking motives from Mr. Mungo Park and the illustrious Lander brothers, but to lose such a sizable chuck amongst our numbers at the first leg of our expedition according to the head porter was bad juju.

Not much headway had been made anyway in getting the language of the mythical serpents. These three courses were firmly related. Lorist pessimistically summarized the quintessence of these three courses into two words: grave burglary. The main distinction among this and genuine grave burglarizing was that it was legitimately supported by the different powers on the landmass and it was normal practice for individuals to assault and investigate such demolishes, plunder the ancient rarities inside and closeout them off to acquire abundance and popularity. Archeologists, be that as it may, were disappointed with such a peculiarity and considered such demonstrations disastrous and untrustworthy.

All my life, I've always wanted to be remarkable, to stand out, but right now, I want the opposite of that. I desperately wanted him to have forgotten all about me. And even if he hasn't, I wish he didn't remember me as the girl from last night. “I'm Imani Cole, a 19-year-old and an archeology major.” I heard that loud and deriding chuckle that could only belong to Valeria, but I ignored her. I couldn't pay attention to her because Prof. Stephan was now concentrating solely on me. Just as he did when I rode him, both in the bar and inside his car.

Xyla recognized Brian Comb as a renowned archeologist. “This is my team of archeologists,” Brian said, then proceeded to introduce Xyla to each of his team members. She could recognize each of their names as experienced professionals in the field. Xyla was very grateful to the President for sending these experts over. After the introductions, Brian could no longer hide his excitement anymore. “Ms. Quest, can we go down and have a look now? The President told me that you’ve found a lot of rare treasures from ancient times, and I would like to have a look.”

Chapter 1: You Will Have My Seed "Are you sure we should be digging this site, Claire? Haven't you watched enough movies by now to not know what happens next?" Harold, Claire's best friend and contractor asked her in uncertainty. "We could be digging Frankenstein for all we know." Claire rolled her eyes with a scoff. At twenty-three, and freshly achieved the title of an archaeologist, she was eager to find national treasure or something that can prove how old the world is. Something news-worthy, something that can make her see her name on the front page or trending.

“We’re discovering it. And if it’s on the border of my site and his proposed site… well, wouldn’t it be responsible to pause everything until we know what’s down there? For the sake of preservation?” It was devious. It was using Pryce’s own bureaucratic-weaponization playbook against him. It was also a gamble. We called Miranda. “You know anyone in archaeology who’s… creatively curious?” Arthur asked. She did. Dr. Aris Thorne, a professor of historical archaeology, was known for his hatred of developers who bulldozed history. He was also known for his dramatic pronouncements and love of local fame. The next day, Lanc “formally reported” the mysterious piping to the county, citing the discrep

Martial cultivator affairs were not easily explained to academics. "Ah, it must be related to the earthquake earlier," the professor deduced, recalling the tremors that nearly trapped them in the tunnel. While they conversed, Adrian hurried over eagerly. "Professor, if this is a palace, think of the treasures!" "Adrian, we're not treasure hunters nor grave robbers," the professor chided firmly, his tone stern. "I apologize, Professor," Adrian muttered, chastened. Seizing the moment, the professor launched into a lecture about professional ethics and the sanctity of archaeological work, reminiscing about his youth.

He'd been fifteen. The second time had come years later. He'd managed to make something of his life again, working his way through university and ultimately securing work on a series of prestigious archaeological digs. He'd risen quickly in the field, becoming known not just for his knowledge but also his fearlessness - he was often the first to go rappelling down into an uncharted cave or crawling through the ruins of some ancient temple. And then one night, the archaeologist leading his team - a man Donovan had looked up to for years - had had too much to drink and started getting rough with one of their female colleagues. And Donovan had snapped.

Finally, they spoke of the Archivist. “He is not like the others,” Kael said. “The Overseers are fanatics. The Archivist is… a scientist. A historian. He is driven by a cold, terrible logic. He doesn’t hate life. He sees it as a flaw. A chaotic, unpredictable variable that must be controlled or eliminated.” “He knows the old stories,” Liora added. “He knew what I was the moment I entered the Citadel. He let me in. He was studying me.”