#treasure inquest
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thepastisalreadywritten · 10 months ago
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23 September 2024
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literaryvein-reblogs · 10 months ago
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Some French Loans in Middle English
Loan Word - vocabulary borrowings
Borrow - to introduce a word (or some other linguistic feature) from one language or dialect into another
Administration authority, bailiff, baron, chamberlain, chancellor, constable, coroner, council, court, crown, duke, empire, exchequer, government, liberty, majesty, manor, mayor, messenger, minister, noble, palace, parliament, peasant, prince, realm, reign, revenue, royal, servant, sir, sovereign, squire, statute, tax, traitor, treason, treasurer, treaty, tyrant, vassal, warden
Law accuse, adultery, advocate, arrest, arson, assault, assize, attorney, bail, bar, blame, chattels, convict, crime, decree, depose, estate, evidence, executor, felon, fine, fraud, heir, indictment, inquest, jail, judge, jury, justice, larceny, legacy, libel, pardon, perjury, plaintiff, plea, prison, punishment, sue, summons, trespass, verdict, warrant
Religion abbey, anoint, baptism, cardinal, cathedral, chant, chaplain, charity, clergy, communion, confess, convent, creator, crucifix, divine, faith, friar, heresy, homily, immortality, incense, mercy, miracle, novice, ordain, parson, penance, prayer, prelate, priory, religion, repent, sacrament, sacrilege, saint, salvation, saviour, schism, sermon, solemn, temptation, theology, trinity, vicar, virgin, virtue
Military ambush, archer, army, barbican, battle, besiege, captain, combat, defend, enemy, garrison, guard, hauberk, lance, lieutenant, moat, navy, peace, portcullis, retreat, sergeant, siege, soldier, spy, vanquish
Food and drink appetite, bacon, beef, biscuit, clove, confection, cream, cruet, date, dinner, feast, fig, fruit, fry, grape, gravy, gruel, herb, jelly, lemon, lettuce, mackerel, mince, mustard, mutton, olive, orange, oyster, pigeon, plate, pork, poultry, raisin, repast, roast, salad, salmon, sardine, saucer, sausage, sole, spice, stew, sturgeon, sugar, supper, tart, taste, toast, treacle, tripe, veal, venison, vinegar
Fashion apparel, attire, boots, brooch, buckle, button, cape, chemise, cloak, collar, diamond, dress, embroidery, emerald, ermine, fashion, frock, fur, garment, garter, gown, jewel, lace, mitten, ornament, pearl, petticoat, pleat, robe, satin, taffeta, tassel, train, veil, wardrobe
part 1/2 ⚜ Source ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References
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legendaryskyscale · 18 days ago
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Announcing Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity
by The Guild Wars 2 Team on July 15, 2025
Today we’re thrilled to announce our next expansion, Guild Wars 2®: Visions of Eternity™ and its release date! Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity launches on October 28, 2025, and, like the previous two expansions, will bring with it a year of story chapters and three major content updates. You can get an overview of what to expect from our sixth expansion on the official page, and we’ll be sharing tons of additional details between now and launch.
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Adventure on an Unknown Island
Tyria’s leaders are anxious about rumors of covert Inquest voyages launched in search of Castora, an island so remote that it’s long been thought to be inaccessible—or even nonexistent. The risks involved prevent all but the most tenacious (and perhaps foolhardy) of pursuers from investigating the Inquest’s plan.
Your race to discover the Inquest’s plot will lead you across two new open-world regions at launch, each filled with magical energies and strange creatures. Two additional maps will open as the story continues over the course of a year. For Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity, we’ll be releasing story chapters differently than we’ve done for the previous two expansions. To read about this and other insights, see our Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds™ retrospective blog from last week.
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Expansion Features
New Elite Specializations
Elite specializations are back! Influences from members of the Tyrian Alliance bring new ways to play each of our nine professions. In Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity, you’ll experience new trait lines, profession mechanics, and healing, utility, and elite skills, adding many new ways to play your characters.
From August 20 to 27, we’re holding an in-game preview week for you to beta test all of the elite specializations. When that preview arrives, we’ll ask for your feedback to help us take each elite specialization through the polish phase and into launch. All players with a Guild Wars 2 account in good standing may participate in the preview.
We’ll be back next week to kick off a series of blogs and livestreams to talk about the elite specializations in great detail. Stay tuned!
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Skimmer Mastery
In Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity, the skimmer mount will be featured with new and updated mechanics. Hover, dive, and soar faster than ever before as you explore the dangerous and beautiful environments of Castora!
Raids and Combat
In 2026, raids and strikes will be unified under the same structure, improving access for new players and streamlining rewards. We’re also investing in systems that help facilitate group content, which we’ll talk about more in the future.
Two new raid encounters (including challenge modes and a legendary mode) will be added in the major updates to Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity next year. In addition, a new Convergence and fractal with challenge mode will also release in the final expansion update next year, giving players lots of obstacles to tackle and overcome!
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Legendary Treasures
Over the course of the expansion and its subsequent content updates, players can pursue six new legendary items: three new weapons, a ring, an accessory, and the long-requested aquabreather!
A New Homestead
Players who own both Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds and Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity will get to unlock a whole new homestead map! You’ll also be able to save your decoration layout and freely swap between the Janthiri and Castoran maps with the new layouts feature. We’ll share more information about the new homestead and layouts in the coming months.
Other Rewards
The Wizard’s Vault will continue to offer new seasonal rewards for players to earn as they play through the expansion. New relics will bring players more options for their builds and combat capabilities. And, of course, you’ll also be able to earn new armor, weapons, recipes, emotes, and more!
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Prepurchase Bonuses Available Now
Prepurchasing any edition of Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity before the expansion launches at approximately 9:00 a.m. Pacific Time (UTC-7) on October 28, 2025, comes with three rewards: the exclusive Plumed Commodore’s Hat helm skin, the exclusive “Eternal Alchemist” title, and a box with your choice of one Chromatic Resin weapon skin.
Visit the official store page for full details on the Standard, Deluxe, and Ultimate editions. You can prepurchase the expansion through the official store or from the in-game store, Steam, EGS, or official retailers.
Fashion Forward
We have one final feature that will launch in one of the major updates to Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity next year and will be available to all players regardless of expansion ownership: fashion templates!
Fashion templates function similarly to build and equipment templates, allowing players to save a template of the aesthetic features for their armor, trinkets, back item, and infusions. We’ll share more information here in the future about fashion templates—and all the other features coming with Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity!
You can read more details about the full contents of Guild Wars 2: Visions of Eternity on the product page. It’ll be a busy summer as we prepare to set sail for Castora, so stay tuned for more information!
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blueiscoool · 10 months ago
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1,000-Year-Old Viking Coins Deemed Treasure
Most of the coins were minted during the reign of England's first king.
A trove of 1,000-year-old Viking coins, unearthed on the Isle of Man, a British island territory located in the Irish sea, is officially treasure. Variously intact and fragmented, the coins had been discovered by John Crowe and David O’Hare while using metal detectors on the private land in May. The artifacts were later studied by the U.S.-based researcher Kristin Bornholdt Collins, an expert on Viking Age coins from the Isle of Man.
“This new hoard might be compared to a wallet containing all kinds of credit cards, notes, and coins, perhaps of different nationalities, such as when you prepare to travel overseas, and shows the variety of currencies available to an Irish Sea trader or inhabitants of Man in this period,” Bornholdt Collins said in a statement.
“Combined, the hoards provide a rare chance to study the contents side by side, right down to the detail of the dies used to strike the coins,” she added. “Having this much closely dated comparative material from separate finds is highly unusual.”
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The coins, which date between between 1000 and 1065 C.E., are being described as a “a good size savings account,” according to Manx National Heritage curator of archaeology Alison Fox. The majority of the coins that were found were minted during the reign of Edward the Confessor (1042 to 1066 C.E.), one of the first kings to rule England, when the country was regularly invaded by Vikings. They relics also represent two earlier rulers: Edward’s father, Aethelred, and the Viking king Cnut.
The Isle of Man once boasted strong ties to Viking culture. During the 9th century, Norseman first came to this area in the Irish Sea where they fished, traded, and cultivated the land eventually settling there. The Island of Man which is located in the center of the British Islands, was also an important base for Vikings of this era.
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The unique find—the second discovery of ancient coins made on the island this year—has now been declared treasure by the Isle of Man Deputy Coroner of Inquests.
“This is a wonderful find which helps further our understanding of the complex Viking Age economy in the Isle of Man, where more Viking Age silver has been discovered per square kilometer than in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales,” Fox noted.
The coins will be displayed at the Manx Museum through 13 October where viewers will be able to see this piece of Viking history up close and personal.
By Anni Irish.
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commanderthalys · 2 years ago
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Meet Keppu/Skipper!
Experimented on by the inquest, this asura now has gills and an affinity for water magic! They live in LA and make a dishonest living as a fisherman and treasure hunter, along with the occasional thievery and criminal activity!
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justicegundam82 · 1 year ago
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Pathfinder 2E to 1E conversion: Raw Nerve
Here's a new conversion from me! The Book of the Dead contains some pretty interesting critters, but this one was particularly fun and appealing to me. I tried to convert it as faithfully as possible, while at the same time trying to inject some of my own ideas into it. Not sure how well that turned out... but I still hope you will like it! Enjoy!
RAW NERVE
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Image (c) Paizo Publishing. Accessed at theARchives of Nethys here
RAW NERVE
A disembodied brain floats eerily towards you, with a network of nerves trailing behind it, crackling with electricity and morbidly parodying a humanoid form.
RAW NERVE CR 8
XP 4’800
NE Medium Undead
Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft., thoughtsense; Perception +18
DEFENSE
AC 20, touch 15, flat-footed 15 (+4 Dex, +1 dodge, +5 natural)
hp 90 (12d8+36)
Fort +6, Ref +8, Will +11
Damage Reduction 10 / slashing; Immune electricity, undead traits
Weakness vulnerable to sonic
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft., float
Melee 2 nerve lashes +12 (1d8+1 plus 1d6 electricity and involuntary reaction) or 2 nerve strokes +12 contact (2d6 electricity and involuntary reaction)
Special Attacks accelerating inquest, involuntary reaction, synaptic overload
STATISTICS
Str 12, Dex 19, Con -, Int 20, Wis 16, Cha 15
Base Atk +8; CMB +9; CMD 23
Feats Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Lunge, Piranha Strike, Toughness, Weapon Finesse
Skills Climb +16, Heal +15, Intimidate +17, Knowledge (any one) +20, Knowledge (religion) +20, Perception +18, Sense Motive +18, Spellcraft +20, Stealth +19
Languages Common, Necril (cannot speak); telepathy 100 ft.
Special Qualities float
ECOLOGY
Environment any underground
Organization solitary or pair
Treasure standard
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Accelerating Inquest (Su) As a swift action once per round, a raw nerve can mentally probe a single creature within 100 feet. The creature must make a Will saving throw (DC 21). On a failure, its superficial thoughts are revealed to the raw nerve, which gains a +2 circumstance bonus to its AC and its attack rolls against that particular creature for the duration of 1 round. A creature immune to or warded against mind-reading (for example, with spells such as enshroud thoughts or thought shield) is immune to this ability. The save DC is Intelligence-based.
Float (Ex) A raw nerve floats a few inches off the ground. It ignores difficult terrain.
Involuntary Reaction (Su) A creature that takes electricity damage from a raw nerve must make a Fortitude save (DC 18) or become staggered with muscle spasms and unable to make attacks of opportunity for 1d4 rounds. Multiple failed saving throws prolong the duration of this effect. The save DC is Charisma-based.
Synaptic Overload (Su) Once every 1d4+1 rounds, a raw nerve may release a burst of mental energy in a 30-foot cone, dealing 4d8 damage to each creature in the cone. Each target may halve the damage taken with a successful Will saving throw (DC 18), but if the saving throw is failed by 5 or more, the creature is also stunned for 1 round in addition to taking damage. A creature immune to or warded against mind-reading gains a +4 circumstance bonus on this saving throw and cannot be stunned by this ability. The save DC is Charisma-based.
Thoughtsense (Su) A raw nerve is constantly under the effects of athoughtsense spell. This ability cannot be dispelled.
A raw nerve is a peculiar kind of undead that is sometimes birthed when a humanoid creature is killed by electricity and subsequently exposed to a large amount of negative energy. Usually, this means that the victim is killed by a powerful electricity-based spell or by a freak lightning, but in some technologically advanced regions, a raw nerve may also result out of an electrocuting accident – though such cases are exceedingly rare. In any event, a combination of electricity and negative energy takes possession of the victim’s nerve system and cause sit to wrench free of the body, creating a furious, tormented undead horror.
A raw nerve is irretrievably insane. Although these creatures possess superhuman intelligence, their psychic senses are overstimulated by the mere presence of sapient creatures. While a raw nerve does not go out of its way to hunt and kill the living, it perceives other living creatures’ thoughts as a chaotic jumble that causes it pain and discomfort, and it seeks to regain its peace and quiet by destroying the source of its torment. Once a raw nerve has destroyed all living beings in its proximities, it resumes its quiescence, sitting in midair in a meditating pose, but any similar disturbance will rile it up and turn it murderous once again. Constructs and other undead do not irritate a raw nerve in the same way – only living creatures trigger a raw nerve’s rage.
A raw nerve stands between 5 and 6 feet tall, but weighs very little compared to similarly sized creatures. Though it can communicate via telepathy, it rarely chooses to do so, making most attempts at diplomacy pointless.
ENHANCED RAW NERVE
A more powerful version of a raw nerve can be created when a creature is struck multiple times by lightning in a short period of time before dying. Raw nerves “born” in this way seem to appear and disappear at random intervals, like a flash of lightning during a storm. An enhanced raw nerve has the advanced simple template and the following special ability in addition to the ones standard to a raw nerve.
Shock to the System (Ex) At the end of an enhanced raw nerve’s turn, roll 1d6: on a 1, 2 or 3, the raw nerve is visible, glowing with bright light that makes sighted creatures dazzled while within 10 ft. of it. On a 4, 5 or 6, the raw nerve is invisible (as with an invisibility spell)
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ratasum · 2 years ago
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Serious Vezz questions time: one lesser known occasion when he truly thought he was about to die? what's his most treasured memory? what's a member of the guild he still has conflicting feelings about?
There was a point in the personal story, during the period of time he and Rissia were trying to figure out who framed them for attacking the Pact soldiers in Sootberme, that the Inquest Liquidators caught him alone. At this point, while he wasn't a death seeker, he was prepared not to fight it if it happened. One of the Liquidators managed to corner him without his staff, and he genuinely thought it was the end. But Rissia came in at the last moment, after the Liquidator had gotten one shot on him.
His most treasured memory is his wedding to Rissia in the Lily of Elon. He should've died! Balthazar had killed him, but here he was. Back, and alive. With the most beautiful, strong willed, stubborn woman he ever met right in front of him, holding his hands and wanting him. Just that moment, standing there staring down at her, on a cobbled together prosthesis and a bandage covering his ruined right eye. And she still wanted him. He'll never let that go.
I had to roll around that thought for a moment, as to who in the guild he's still uncertain on, and if anyone I think it's probably Leyya. Not that he distrusts her, per se- he knew her in college as a result of her closeness with Zojja. But she had vanished after what happened in Maguuma and came back clearly changed. He worries about her, and worries about what'll happen while she's dealing with everything after so long away.
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fideidefenswhore · 3 months ago
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#does anyone know if this is true#did henry consult judges to find out how best to try mary?#did he really move against her like this far?
What we have to this effect has been largely derived from Chapuys' accounts in retrospective:
As I suspected even then, it was not opportune because the King was too angry, and Cromwell, for having communicated with me upon the affairs of the Princess, and showing himself rather favourable, was not free from suspicion, or without danger of being put to death, and, as he has since told me, he remained four or five days considering himself a lost man and dead. At the same time the Marquis (fn. 3) and the Treasurer (fn. 4) as suspected persons were excluded from the Council, and the matter proceeded so far that, in spite of the prayers of this Queen, which he rudely repulsed*, the King called the judges to proceed according to law to the inquest and first sentence which is given in the absence of the parties. I have been informed from more than one source that the King had sworn, in a great passion, that not only the Princess should suffer, but also the Marquis, Cromwell, and several others. Now I hear that the judges, in spite of threats, refused to decide, and advised that a writing should be sent to the Princess, and that if she refused to sign it, they should proceed against her.
...some historians are more skeptical of this account (some of the Imperial response- not Charles V per se, but other Imperial agents- was caustic of his 'handling' of the matter, why had he advised her to concede when her cause had been a worthy one, indeed one worthy of martyrdom, etc, was the line, iirc, by Dr Ortiz, the Imperial ambassador to Rome, at the very least) than others, ie, is it possible Chapuys was exaggerating the danger Mary had been in to defend himself, his own reputation, and hers, re: her capitulation?
However, in this case, there is corroboration to his reports- arguably circumstantial corroboration, but so much of it that imo, it would be unreasonable to underrate it...why else, the interrogation and (house) arrest(s) of her supporters, during this time? Why are they being expelled from the Privy Council? All this seems to suggest the gathering of evidence and testimony that would be required to proceed to trial. This pattern seems true to form of other comparable trials: Buckingham, Boleyn, and the later 'Exeter Conspiracy'.
"Chapuys, who had remained sceptical about the king’s good intentions, was by early June seriously alarmed. Cromwell showed him a draft of the articles, ostensibly to invite his cooperation, but really in the hope that the knowledge of them would be communicated to Mary and that she would wake up to the gravity of her situation. Chapuys may not have succeeded, or his cautiously worded warning may have been misunderstood, because on 7 June Mary wrote again to Cromwell, clearly thinking that the problem between herself and her father had been resolved. She expressed her joy at the news that he had ‘withdrawn his displeasure’, and asked for some token before she would come to court. Three days later she also wrote to the king, copying the letter to Cromwell with a covering note begging not to be pressed in submission further than her conscience would bear. Mary’s state of mind at this point is hard to reconstruct, because she seems to have realised that she had not satisfied her father, but believed that her reservation had been accepted. Given what he knew, Chapuys can hardly have given her that impression, so it may have been derived from some unidentified (and unreliable) courtier. No reply was sent to either of these letters, and on or about 15 June the inevitable happened. The Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Sussex and the Bishop of Chichester arrived at Hunsdon, bearing the king’s commission. Mary was to be asked two questions. Would she repudiate the ‘Bishop of Rome’ and accept her father’s ecclesiastical supremacy? And would she accept the nullity of her mother’s marriage? In a stormy and emotional confrontation she rejected both demands. This was a crisis of the first importance, because the king’s daughter was now guilty of treason on at least two counts, and the judges whom Henry consulted recommended that she should be proceeded against by law.[...] The council immediately went into emergency session. Mary’s known sympathisers, such as the Marquis of Exeter and Sir William Fitzwilliam, were excluded from the council during these emergency debates. Other friends – Sir Anthony Browne, Sir Francis Bryan and Lady Hussey – were arrested and interrogated. Apart from the last, who had openly referred to her as ‘princess’, their only offence seems to have been to speculate on what a splendid heir Mary would be – if she would only submit. The crisis lasted about a week." Mary Tudor (Loades, David)
And, to supplement, a summary from some newer books about the 'Aragonese/White Rose faction:
"Even with Anne Boleyn permanently out of the picture, Mary was still in danger. Her familiarity to the conservative faction at court, and most starkly in her closeness to Margaret Pole, now had the very real capacity to create an even greater storm of suspicion against both her and her supporters. The great and the good of England were now, more than ever, under close watch. Cromwell plainly alludes to this, informing Mary on 11 June 1536 that ‘If you do not leave all sinister counsels, which have brought you to the point of undoing, I take leave of you forever, and desire you to write to me no more’. [...] The ‘sinister counsellors’ Cromwell refers to must surely mean Mary’s chief champions, the Poles being high on that list." Henry VIII & the Plantagenet Poles, Adam Pennington
+ "Even so, Lord Hussey and his wife remained convinced that Mary was going to regain her position as heir to the throne. Had Lady Hussey known about the dreams of the White Rose party, devoted to the Lady Mary as she was, she would certainly have been in sympathy with them. Visiting her in June, she was heard referring to Mary as ‘the princess’, by which she meant Princess of Wales, and was promptly arrested, while her husband was dismissed from his post as the girl’s chamberlain. Sent to the Tower for interrogation, Lady Hussey was not released until the end of September, her health seriously damaged. The king thought she had been encouraging his daughter’s refusal to accept the Act which disinherited her. By now Henry was so infuriated by his daughter’s obstinacy that he threatened to have her executed. In the end, Chapuys persuaded the isolated, humiliated, girl – who was suffering from constant bouts of painful ill health – to give in and to acknowledge her father as head of the Church. Finally, she accepted that she had become a bastard, even if it meant renouncing her loyalty to Rome and her mother’s memory. Otherwise she would have gone to the scaffold – some of the council were urging the king to put her to death. In the ambassador’s view, her treatment was intended as a warning to her supporters. Besides Lady Hussey, others who had hoped for Mary’s reinstatement were questioned, among them Lord Exeter and the Treasurer Sir William FitzWilliam, who for a time were not allowed to attend meetings of the council, together with the Master of Horse Sir Nicholas Carew and some gentlemen of the Privy Chamber. Soon a new Succession Act stipulated that the throne must be inherited by Jane Seymour’s children or whoever the king should name in his will. The Act was aimed at the Aragonese–White Rose faction, of whose aims Cromwell and the king were by now well aware." The Last White Rose, Desmond Seward
This period of time generally gets short shrift because the Evil Stepmother/family trope has more popular dramatic appeal in fiction. Even some historians are complicit in this sort of conflation, for example, this excerpt from Anna Whitelock's biography, which appends a paragraph about Mary's time in Hatfield under the supervision of Lady Anne Shelton:
"Such was the hostility toward Mary that Sir William Fitzwilliam, treasurer of the king's household, was able to say with impunity of the king's daughter that if she would not be obedient, 'I would that her head was from her shoulders, that I might toss it with my foot,' at which point, according to two witnesses, he 'put his foot forward, spurning the rushes'. " Princess, Bastard, Queen, Anna Whitelock
The missing context of this statement and primary source is that it was certainly not said to gratify the Boleyns, since it was from an interrogation of Sir Anthony Browne dated June 1536; by which their disgrace was already complete. Thus, this is a hearsay statement from men who were expelled from the Privy Council, possibly defending another of their faction, possibly dissociating themselves from him (ie 'throwing him under the bus'), now that it's been driven home how dangerous this speech has been and how closely it's been surveilled.
These interrogations seem to center around the contention that Mary was bona fide parentum. Those interrogated either play dumb (Francis Bryan claims to not even know what the term means), or play blind (Anthony Browne admits he has heard this said, but gosh, just for the life of him can't remember by whom, but he promises that he will inform the council of names if he ever does remember them...)
*The tenor, if not the actual content, of this exchange is corroborated somewhat as well:
... she has five times thrown herself publicly at the King's feet, requesting him to send for his daughter and declare her Princess.
Not quite "prayers rudely repulsed" re: an attempted intercession to effectuate a 'stay' on Mary's arrest (more a restoration), but has the same sort of connotation and imagery (both in multiple: 'prayers', 'five times'), however the source was not immediate to the Tudor court as papal nuncio, and cites 'English ambassadors'...
Is informed by the English ambassadors that the Parliament was to end this month, in which it was expected that the true daughter would be declared Princess, because the King was much softened, besides that she had powerful friends in Norfolk, Cromwell and others, and that she herself is universally loved; and it was hoped that after this would follow the King's return to the Church, though they have some fear of his avarice. The French are doing their best to bring him back, and their ambassador there gives me to understand he has good hope for it. 
...who seem to have given him decidedly 'fake news' (Mary was not declared Princess by Parliament, Henry had not softened, the French may have indeed been doing their best to 'bring back Norfolk's power' but he was nevertheless ostracized in this period)
"If I hear one word of support of that errant creature who calls herself my daughter, I shall know I am hearing treason. I am taking advice. I have called in the judges to see which is the best way to bring her to trial."
Henry, The Mirror and the Light
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hawkepockets · 2 years ago
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previously on: pepa posting
it’s 1308. by mapping underground optic cables using a lens apparatus based on the VOED, and thanks to a lucky stumble upon a natural shaft in the ground, pepa has discovered an abandoned ancient rata, “rata x,” located not far from rata sum. the arcane council refused to fund an expedition to explore and loot the rata, fearing any disturbance could wake destroyers or cause sinkholes, and the priory respected this decision. so pepa signed on with an inquest archaeology krewe, and undertook the rata x-pedition illegally.
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the mood of the krewe was twitchy. the city was partially flooded and entirely unsound. and while pepa was fascinated by the dropped toys, broken-down appliances, and household items left behind by the fleeing inhabitants, the inquest had no interest in sentimental junk. they were nervous about destroyers, tunnel collapses, pitfalls, the inscrutable dark water, and the ancient security systems that might putter back to life just long enough to kill them, and they quickly developed a suspicion amongst themselves that pepa knew about some real treasure down here, and was holding out on them.
which was true! the magnified VOED lens had picked up a faint but still active energy signature in the heart of rata x. based on her observations of rata x’s layout and the modern statics library, pepa made an educated guess that this signature came from the data core crystal of the city library’s computer base, containing all the stored knowledge of this rata. it would be worth a fortune to the right museum head, researcher, or antiquities collector. and pepa didn’t want the inquest to touch it.
the closer the team got to the library, the more they noticed soft scuttling and magma glow in their periphery. there were destroyers down here—just the tiny melter crabs, for now, but in increasing density.
the krewe scaled a wall and picked their way over rooftops & improvised bridges to the roof of the library, where kaskk used a nifty little inquest laser to cut a new skylight where pepa indicated, and pepa was nominated to rappel down & in.
she slid down kaskk’s rope, into the center of the library, which was encrusted with sleeping destroyers like barnacles on every surface. picked her way around them looking for a data crystal, FOUND IT! had to cover her mouth to keep from squeaking EUREKA!!! pumped her fist did a little stompy dance and pocketed it. and heard the rope slap onto the floor behind her as kaskk let go of the other end.
something must have……. happened up there!
slinking for her life, pepa made it all the way to the front door of the library, which slid open on the loudest, screechiest, last-oiled-250-years-ago track—and the destroyers didn’t move. then, a tinny speaker chimed and said “thanks for learning with us,” and a thousand fiery eyes opened to look at pepa.
the inquest krewe was waiting outside the doors to jump pepa, but took their cue to run when she fucking booked it, triggering the ancient defenses as she ran.
behind her, the library wall caved outward like a breached dam, and destroyers flooded the rata’s walkways. several inquest krewe members were pulled under, trampled and burned in the first few seconds. their single heavy fighter, armed with a flamethrower, turned to face the destroyers, who just swam right through their gouts of artificial fire, fell upon the heavy and tore them to shreds. pepa saw that. most of the others made a last-ditch effort to blast open a new exit to the surface, and brought part of the cavern ceiling down on themselves—crushing a lot of the destroyer swarm, to pepa’s benefit.
the end of his braid smoking, his heels and calves sliced and singed by nipping destroyers, and still holding the data crystal, pepa reached the bottom of the small shaft he’d come in through when he first found the rata, gulped the fresh air, and braced his hands on the sides of the shaft, ready to scrabble his way back up like a mole—
and got stabbed in the back. literally. the inquest krewe leader, kaskk, pulled her knife out of pepa, shoved her down, and stepped on her back to help herself up the shaft. pepa might have been able to follow her up before the destroyers swarmed their position, so they could both survive to settle their differences topside, but she was filled with such fierce and sudden hatred that instead she bucked and squirmed around until her teeth could meet in kaskk’s leg. she bit and tore until the other asura fell on top of her, they rolled a few times, and then pepa kicked kaskk down the slope into the onrush of destroyers. she saw kaskk’s face as she died: an expression of hurt surprise, as if they’d been dear friends, instead of enemies who briefly collaborated, giving each other shifty looks the whole time, then wrestled for the right to feed the other to destroyers.
it confused pepa, and never really left him.
he got out, though climbing the shaft with his back ripped open was agony, then in a frenzy kicked rocks and dirt down the mouth of the shaft, tore down brush and saplings to plug the hole (a feeble stopgap against destroyers, if they'd been intelligent enough to take an interest in the shaft, but they were not), and finally, smashed his VOED lens apparatus and jammed the parts into the ground there, twisted antennae and sharp claws of metal signalling “danger” to any passing explorers. he realized he was weeping crazily and tried to wipe the tears away, smearing blood and jungle mud across his face.
and that’s how she went back to rata sum. straight to her rented lab space, to pack what little she kept there and take the closest waypoint to refuge peak. she had already traded the data core to gixx in exchange for novice status and sanctuary in the priory before the arcane eye—or the inquest—noticed anyone had disappeared, or that pepa had acted against the council’s ruling.
and again, by asuran standards, the x-pedition was considered a mixed success. some loss of assistant life, but the objective was met. not an atypical job for the inquest, except for how flagrantly they'd crossed the arcane council. and the data crystal was everything pepa had hoped. pepa even mentioned rata x when trahearne asked, while scouting her for pact commander, whether she had any prior leadership experience.
but pepa knew it was a nightmarish failure, in her gut. she shouldn’t have worked with the inquest at all, and once she had committed herself to it, she should have put some value on their lives.
when trahearne looked into the details of the rata x incident, following “shell shock,” he was appalled. and his horror cracked their friendship apart forever.
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cherrynojutsu · 4 years ago
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Title: Like Silver
Summary: A companion series for Like Gold.
It’s challenging to finish up discharge summaries and operative reports when one’s vision keeps blurring, as it turns out. And when one keeps pressing fingers to their lips in disbelief. A poetic sort of procrastination, indeed.
Blank period, canon-compliant, Sakura-centric, some expanded plot points from Like Gold, fluff and pining, eventually becomes a smut fest with feelings.
Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.
Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)
AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes
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Chapter 2/?: A Poetic Sort of Procrastination, Indeed
Sakura saunters home late in the evening, admiring the stars above her in a daze of spring air and clutching her tote bag to her shoulder as if her very life force is tethered to it.
In the flurry of emotion, she completely forgot about returning her library books, but she doesn’t give a damn.
She drudged through her entire pile of paperwork, though it was an almighty effort requiring every ounce of her discipline. Even after Sasuke left, she kept tearing up and just gawking at the impossibly beautiful gift he’s given her, affection requited bubbling up inside her ribcage and unleashed into the air she breathes like some sort of ambrosial perfume she can finally afford to bask in. She has always known there is a softer side to him, that there is much more beneath the surface than he lets on with his laconic demeanor, but this is something else.
It’s challenging to finish up discharge summaries and operative reports when one’s vision keeps blurring, as it turns out.
And when one keeps pressing fingers to their lips in disbelief.
A poetic sort of procrastination, indeed.
She hangs her tote on its entryway hook and carefully removes the box inside once she reaches her apartment. After she’s padded her way to her bedroom, she flips on the two lamps before placing it tenderly on her bed.
Sakura briefly contemplates taking the lid off then and there, but she knows she really should shower first, because otherwise the evening is going to quickly spiral away from her, whirlpool of tender feelings that it already is.
It’s the quickest shower she’s ever taken in her life; berry-scented soap floods her body and seems to take forever to rinse clean in her haste, although it can’t actually be more than a minute or two in reality. It’s also the quickest she’s ever toweled off and changed into pajamas, scurrying back to her room and grabbing the first pair she lays eyes on from her dresser drawer.
Once she has shimmied them on, she opens the box again, and just looks.
It still exists - it doesn’t disappear or dissolve as a figment of her imagination - so she picks it up with careful hands.
It is so, so pretty, exquisite in a way that makes her heart hammer relentlessly against her sternum, a catharsis in her chest sweeter somehow than anything she’s ever experienced.
It’s unavoidable; her eyes well with tears again, because he said he had it made for her. Not found in an antique shop off the beaten path or some happenstance market who knows how many miles away. Not just something that reminded him of her.
Made for me.
Which means he thought of this himself. Silk that shifts colors like the Uchiha crest, fastidiously stitched petals, and a cherry blossom tree, carved light wood that is startlingly similar in tone to the accents here in her bedroom.
And the way he looked at her, after, a storm of silver and obsidian that took her breath away.
And he kissed her.
Sakura doesn’t know how she’s supposed to fall asleep tonight, deliriously happy as she is, or how she’s going to spend any of her free time from here on out not staring at this supernal treasure. She strokes the wood with careful fingers, bringing the carving upwards for closer inspection. Every inch of it is gorgeous; she is especially enamored with the pink and pearlescent stitching, coruscant in the low light. She assiduously counts the slivers of bamboo, too, and follows the rivulets of fine branches stretching upwards to the boundaries of the framework. Upon her inquest, she notices an impossibly tiny etching, faintly whittled on the interior of one of the slats of bamboo. Tai Ro, it says; she assumes that must be the craftsman’s signature. She wonders where it came from, which far-off land Sasuke traveled through to commission something so resplendent.
She has never seen anything so bewitching, except maybe silver flecks.
Tearing her gaze away from the fan, Sakura eyes the vanity by her balcony door, an idea brewing.
It’s an aged piece, of a bygone style featuring small drawers on each size and a sunken point in the middle, from which rises a large circular mirror. A framed copy of their original Team Seven portrait sits pushed against the framing, right in the center. She placed it there because she enjoys seeing it as she gets ready for the day. It’s a good memory, one of her favorites, sentimental in a way that makes her heart swell, after everything. A pale wooden hairbrush also sits perched atop its surface, given to her by her mother forever ago while she was still at the Academy.
“I found it in the market today, just after swinging by to pick up rose food from Ino’s mother. It’s old, an antique, but I think it suits you, my dear,” she’d said, ruffling her hair, still long at that point and chattering a mile a minute in the overbearing way she has always tended to. She’d brushed her already combed locks in the manner that Sakura thinks all mothers must with their daughters, even when they are starting to become too grown for that sort of thing. “What I wouldn’t give for your hair! So unique; you should have something lovely to brush it with. You’re already such a pretty girl, but someday you’re going to bloom, and when you do, heaven help the boys.”
There’s a cherry blossom on it, too, adorning the back simply with five perfect petals.
When Sakura moved out of her parents’ house, she chose the tones of her bedroom accents, inclusive of the frame, with it in mind; she’d been using it for years by then, and had developed a fondness for pale wood rooted in familial nostalgia. Most of her actual furniture in the room is secondhand, of an older variety and painted with a white stain to make them somewhat match - she prefers things with a little bit of history, has since her mom gifted her that hairbrush - but the few frames and wall-mounted shelves are lighter washes of wood.
Many of the surfaces in her apartment are cluttered with books and other knick knacks she has accumulated through the years, but she tries to keep the vanity’s top clear, almost like an altar, an ode to the things she finds lovely atop it to give her hope with which to greet the day.
Still clutching the gift tenderly in her hands, Sakura ventures over to it.
She holds the fan close to the frame as well as the brush, comparing the color, near an exact match, a fresh memory making her heart swell in a completely different way, a way she had previously thought was maybe unrealistic.
She’ll get a stand for it, she decides, and display it in the spot the frame currently sits; it would look perfect there, the curvature echoed above it in circular looking glass, a hairbrush of a similar stain beside it. Then she’ll be able to gaze at it every morning and evening. There is no way something this precious to her could ever be stored away in a box and only seen on special occasions; it’s the same reason she struggled with the idea of hiding his letters away in one.
No, Sakura is resolutely sure that admiring it will be a daily ritual.
She can relocate the photo frame to her bedside table, maybe, next to An Introduction to Electrocardiography , or perhaps to her living room, though it doesn’t really match the wood out there.
That gets her thinking. We’re... together now, right? He’s kissed her, and she really hopes he will again, surprisingly soft lips against hers, an aroma of woodsmoke, and butterflies unleashed in her stomach. Maybe she should put the frame on the shelf in the main room. He might come over, sometime; it would be good to have it visible, situated in a place where he can see it.
With the utmost care, she lays the fan on the surface in front of her. Sakura combs through wet locks, coaxing out tangles with an old gift and appreciating a new one with watery eyes. When she’s finished, she carefully clutches it again and admires it atop a lavender comforter for the better part of an hour, alternating between mentally mapping its fine stitching within the confines of her hippocampus and paging through her book of Sasuke’s letters in a way that is more than fond, affection freed from her chest after so very long. The jubilance crests to a sense of omneity as she does so, moon glow filtering in by way of the gauzy white curtains that shield the balcony’s glass door.
She absolutely can’t wait to see him tomorrow. She sincerely hopes she’s not dreaming all of this.
She is so enamored with it that she doesn’t even drink her customary evening tea, her being warmed in an entirely different manner she is as of yet unaccustomed to, better than earl grey or some variety of dessert. It’s immensely difficult to pry it from her own hands when the time comes to do so.
Always is the last word she thinks of before she succumbs to slumber, curled up in soft colors and hoping he has found somewhere comfortable to sleep. Treasured memories emanate from objects old and new, brewing together before a looking glass where she’s placed them for safekeeping and admiration.
XXX
When she awakens in the morning, Sakura jerks upright in bed, turning to her vanity to ascertain if it was all a dream, cozened in by her subconscious as she slept.
It wasn’t. The fan is still there, precious and so enchantingly beautiful, dawn flavoring the memory of Sasuke’s return just as sweet as it had tasted yesterday with his lips on hers.
She brushes her hair again, working at the task way longer than necessary and trying not to cry out of sheer happiness. She feels so light, as if being pulled upwards by a latterly existent force of gravity, theoretically possible in terms of relative physics and with the right circumstances, but never actually experienced.
Birds are singing on the balcony when Sakura finally steps outside, snacking on seeds from her bird feeder as she gives her fledgling plants a drink before leaving for work.
It is such a lovely morning.
XXX
Sakura makes it through work as if encapsulated in a brand of inertial navigation system, floating as if she’s a bizarrely sentient cloud from patients to test tubes. She feeds the mice and records the brief observations she usually does on Wednesdays, and then a Genin is being brought in with a linear fracture in their tibia, twisted wrong and impacted during training. She gives instructions to nurses, too, taking care of smaller tasks in between, part of her feeling like she is barely there.
Well, not barely. She still keeps her wits about her and heals people; she takes pride in what she does. She just… daydreams a little, too, sage, smoke, and silver occupying her spare moments, flitting in between the corridors of her head as she flits from exam room to exam room.
She’s sitting at her desk, eating an early dinner and working on a new pile of paperwork before her next appointment arrives at five thirty, when one of Naruto’s clones bangs on her window.
Her gaze shifts to the glass at the familiar boisterous whining of her name - “Sakura-chaaaaaaan!” - and she rises to open it the rest of the way, allowing him entry into her office, an easy grin coming to her lips.
“Naruto!” A million thoughts run through her head. He has to know Sasuke’s back at this point, right? Has he seen him? He must be so happy.
Cyan bores into her, and he grins as he steps down. “Sakura-chan, teme’s back! Can you believe it? Though I guess you knew since yesterday.”
Sakura’s cheeks warm at the implication of that, wondering how he knows this information, but her friend is plowing onwards.
“Anyways, wanna have an original Team Seven reunion dinner on Saturday night? Or maybe Sunday night? Kakashi-sensei said Saturday would be better for him, if it works for you. And we should also make it a housewarming party for teme, but Kakashi-sensei says DON’T tell him that, or he won’t agree! It’s a surprise.”
Laughter erupts from her chest, rich and joyful, because it is crystal clear in that moment that Naruto is as elated at Sasuke’s return as she is - okay, maybe not quite on the level that she is, but close - even through a clone. “Of course, we should! I don’t have anything planned for Saturday night.”
Her teammate grins, all infectious happiness in the way that is so utterly characteristic of him, eyes crinkling at their corners. “Good, great, awesome! Be sure to mention it to him when you see him at seven. I’m sure if you suggest it, he’ll definitely agree.” Sakura blinks in surprise, cheeks staining darker. “Man, this is gonna be so great! Team Seven is fucking back ! I can’t wait to get a mission! It’ll be just like old times. I gotta tell Hinata-chan, too!”
She can’t help it; she smiles so wide that it hurts her face, tears paying her another visit. Sasuke’s back. He’s really back. And-
“Well, anyways, I’ll leave you to eat your dinner, Sakura-chan, but we have to force him to be social. I can’t wait to spar! But also, we gotta have a picnic, and no tying me to the pole this time. We could even challenge Kakashi-sensei to get off his ass and give us another go at the bell test. And, and! We should have a movie night. And go drinking! I’ve never seen teme drunk. I bet he’s a lightweight, and he’ll probably say all sorts of embarrassing shit! And-” Naruto’s clone’s expression turns unexpectedly serious, blue eyes suddenly narrowing in a way that is all-seeing and a tan finger suddenly pointing at her accusingly.
“-I mean social outside of you and him, Sakura-chan! Don’t think for a second that you’re gonna escape my questions later, when my brain isn’t fried from staring at that stupid scroll Kakashi-sensei has me slaving over. I want answers. ”
And then Naruto’s clone disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving her blinking in a strange combination of bewilderment and somehow, shyness, too.
And ebullience. Mostly ebullience.
She stands there grinning like an idiot for a long time. She can’t wait to see him at seven.
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the-boundless-sea · 8 months ago
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so i looked into this a bit more and found a couple different things
in the high republic era, out of the shadows mentions the jedi having a ship they got after confiscating it from a hutt slaver. so it appears they do seize assets, at least in some situations.
(tangentially - another high republic book into the dark has master cohmac also refers to having a "personal stipend" that could be used to hire a ship without getting the council's attention. so it seems jedi have access to funds beyond having X amounts for Y mission.)
over in legends, the comic star wars the old republic: threat of peace #2 the chancellor am-ris tells jedi master zym that the senate has decided to delay the reconstruction of the jedi temple indefinitely - which seems to indicate in the time of the old republic they are state-funded at least primarily. one of the holonet articles from the old holonet website tying into the promotion of aotc reads:
People's Inquest Demand Jedi Budget Reports JUDICIAL ARCOLOGY, CORUSCANT - The Judicial Department has denied the People's Inquest demands to reveal budgetary information regarding the Jedi order. The People's Inquest, a Coruscant-based lobbying group built around enforcing the accountability of the Jedi order, began the formal petition for information following last week's unveiling of the new Jedi starfighter. "We, as the tax-payers that subsidize the Judicial Department and the Jedi order have every right to see how those credits are spent. How much is this new fancy toy costing us, the people who are now finding it difficult to clothe and feed our families?" said Inquest leader Thrynka Padaunete through a loud-hailer before a vociferous crowd of supporters gathered at the steps of the Jedi Temple. Citing security concerns, the Judicial Department denied the request. "Especially in such times, security takes precedent. There are enemies of the Republic that could exploit such information," Judicial Department Information Director Laddinare Torbin told HoloNet news. The People's Inquest, which has set up a temporary camp outside the Jedi Temple last month, will continue its pursuit of information, said Padaunete. Their petition has already garnered "several million" signatures, she told her followers. The popular movement has been gaining support since Jedi public opinion plummeted following their failure to prevent the Battle of Antar 4.
so again, prequel era seems to have the same type of situation. though also, the legends pt novel rogue planet has this exchange:
 Obi-Wan smiled and shook his head. “Not yet, Padawan. Something more appropriate for a planet run by merchants. Old-style aurodium credits. Three billion’s worth, in several large ingots.”     “I’ve never seen that much money!” Anakin said, stepping closer. Obi-Wan shook his finger in warning, then opened the packet and showed its contents to Anakin.     The ten pure aurodium ingots sparkled like tiny flames. Each held a depth of mysterious light that refused to fix on one color. “What they say about the Temple is true, then,” Anakin mused.     “That it holds secret treasure? Hardly,” Obi-Wansaid. “These were drawn from a joint account in the Galactic Capital Bank. Many in the galaxy lend their resources to support the Jedi.”     “I didn’t know that,” Anakin said, a little downcast.     “This represents a few percent of that account. Not that we are going to spend it foolishly.”
so the jedi also appear to accept donations - and 3 billion credits is considered a "small amount" of their funds.
the "it's true what they say" secret treasure bit is interesting too because in star wars (1998) #40 palpatine when hiring vilmarh first gives him the story that he owes the jedi money (is this is a thing or just nonsense made up for a cover story??? hard to say) and when that doesn't work he mentions the secret treasure the jedi have. this works on him, and later when one of his friends questions if the jedi even have treasure, vilmarh says the jedi want to act austere but when you consider how grand their temple is, they must be loaded. so interesting to think about how money factors into the public perception of the jedi as well.
Where does the Jedi Order get its money? Are they state funded? Do they have like an endowment that they invest in space stocks? Do they get donations from pilgrims? Do they seize people’s assets?
I’m crowdsourcing answers unless someone can tell me that this is addressed in canon.
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archaeologicalnews · 5 years ago
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Norfolk discovery of 1,100-year-old brooch 'will remain a mystery'
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The origins of a 1,100-year-old brooch found in a lorry-load of soil may be "a mystery" that is never solved, say archaeologists.
The late 9th Century silver disc was discovered in a field in Great Dunham, Norfolk, which had recently been landscaped.
It is not known where the soil came from, but experts say the find is similar to the nearby Pentney Hoard.
The British Museum said the discovery was of "national importance".
An inquest - the process by which the find may be officially declared treasure - has been opened in Norwich and will conclude on 9 June. Read more.
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blueiscoool · 2 years ago
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Britain's Oldest Gold Coin Hoard Discovered
The oldest hoard of gold coins in Britain, dating back 2,173 years, was discovered by a metal detectorist.
The 12 Iron Age artifacts were discovered by Stephen Eldridge while scouring fields in Buckinghamshire.
They were built in 150 BC by a tribe in what is now Picardy, France, according to experts at the British Museum.
According to speculation, the coins were likely transferred to Britain in return for Celtic mercenaries who were sent to Gaul in western Europe to fight the Romans.
A hoard from this date is extremely uncommon, even though individual gold coins from this era have been discovered before.
The coins will now likely sell for £30,000 when they are put up for auction at London's Spink & Son.
In November 2019, Mr. Eldridge, 68, discovered the coins in the Buckinghamshire community of Ashley Green.
The Catuvellauni tribe first settled in the region about 150 BC, and during the ensuing century they grew to become the most dominant tribe in Britain.
Mr. Eldridge has put the coins up for auction with London-based coin specialists Spink after going through the treasure process.
The coins' roughly 75% gold content with an alloy of silver and copper was validated by scientific x-ray fluorescence analysis, indicating the economy in which Britain's first gold coinage were circulating.
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The coins are now expected to sell for £30,000 when they go under the hammer at London auctioneers Spink & Son
Gregory Edmund, of Spink & Son, said: “Whilst individual gold coins of this period have been recorded across south east England, it is incredibly rare for a trove of this size or date to be uncovered. Contemporary local coinage was simply cast base metal issues called 'potins'. Whoever successfully imported this trove of gold coins would have undoubtedly wielded influence in the region.
They would have been exported, probably in exchange for mercenaries, equipment and hunting dogs to fight the Romans or other tribes in Belgium. Twenty or thirty years after they were deposited we started to get the first British coins in the same style. These coins were in the wealthiest part of the English kingdom. A hoard of this size and period is unprecedented in the archaeological record. There was one other hoard from this period of three coins found. These coins have been well used, it is very clear they are not fresh when they are put in the ground, but still retain remarkable details of a seldom-seen Iron Age art form.
It is often speculated that the portraiture of this coinage was deliberately androgynous despite being modelled on the classical male god Apollo. The feminine styling is probably a reflection of the political significance of women in Iron Age society, that enabled such historical figures as Cartimandua and Boudicca to rise to prominence and our now national folklore. It is incredibly satisfying to assist in the proper recording, academic analysis and now sale of these prestigious prehistoric relics.”
Following the coroner's inquest, the British Museum made the decision to disclaim the coins, which means they now belong to the finder.
The landowner will receive a portion of Mr. Eldridge's earnings.
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bitchwhoreofastorm · 5 years ago
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ON MORDRIN HANIN,
As requested. A compliation of what we know about the First Era Mehrunes Dagon cult-leader known as Mordrin Hanin, compiled from Vvardenfell myth, Elante's memoirs, Telvanni records and my own archeological inquests. Masha Gra-Nirgol, Mournhold.
HANIN Mordrin Hanin was a prominent and powerful follower of Mehrunes Dagon who achieved massive political power in Vvardenfell during the Nordic Occupation and Resdayn periods of the First Era. Most notably he was responsible for the wholesale destruction of House Sotha, the House of the living god Sotha Sil.
HISTORY Little is known about Hanin's origins or how he came to power. His diverse array of acquaintances and learned worldview are suggestive of previous travel, but this is speculation only.
CONQUEST In the First Era, Daedric cults operated with a similar structure and autonomy as the Ashlander Tribes and Minor Houses. These groups formed individual units which could come to possess territory and even be respected in their regional political landscapes. Mordrin Hanin upset this order by attempting to conquest Vvardenfell. By a combination of ruthless guerilla warfare and cunning political manouveuring, Hanin laid claim to great swathes of the subcontinent, and eventually succeeded in controlling large parts of it, though he could never reliably hold this territory.
EXTENT The West Gash was Hanin's central territory, but he held core bases across the continent. Maelkashisi (west), Ashalmawia (north-west) and Assurnabitashpi (north) were his strongholds. At the maximum extent of his influence, he also controlled Azura's Coast, ranging from Ald Daedroth in the north to Ald Sotha in the south, with major bases at Anudnabia and Tukushapal.
IDEOLOGY Mordrin Hanin preached that Vvardenfell was a blessed land, and that the mer who lived there were superior. He preached that Mehrunes Dagon represented the natural disasters and harsh climate of Vvardenfell, and that adverse weather events should be seen not as tragedies but as opportunities to strengthen the herd. He advocated a 'survival of the fittest' ideology and focused on cowardly 'Mainlanders' (non-Vvardenfell chimer) as the reason for the persisting Nordic occupation. It's believed that Mankar Camoran's works are derived from those of Hanin.
EBONY Hanin forged an alliance with the ingenious smiths of Anudnabia, Hilbongard Rolamus and Dorach Gusal. For most of the occupation the Nords had been unable to forge ebony weapons, but Hilbongard and Dorach developed a new method that Nordic blacksmiths could easily utilise. During his conquest years, Hanin was persecuted by the religious fanatic Ysmir Wulfharth, who then ruled Vvardenfell. Hanin approached Ysmir's ally Jurgen Wind-Caller and offered forth the secret for smithing ebony in exchange for amnesty. This bargain was accepted and the resulting boom in ebony weaponry is often used to explain the renewed vigour of the War of Succession, and the further division of the Morrowind Tongues during the latter years of the Nordic Empire.
GOD, INSPIRATION, TERROR Hilbongard and Dorach were also responsible for crafting the famous 'Daedric Faces'. The Daedric Face of Inspiration was gifted to Mordrin Hanin. The 'Daedric Face of God' was gifted to Olmgerd the Outlaw, a Nordic pirate and close confidant of Hanin. The Daedric face of Terror remained with Hilbongard and Dorach. What powers, or significance, are held by these masks is unknown. (n.b. some scholars have pointed out that Almalexia's war-mask bears a striking resemblance to the Daedric Faces, but this is probably more testament to the dominant fashions of the time rather than some conspiracy.)
ALD SOTHA How Ald Sotha, a remote fishing village near the tower Bal Fell, came to be involved with the cult of Mordrin Hanin, is known only to Sotha Sil.
DEATH There are no records for how Mordrin Hanin died. He was laid to rest in Assurnabitashpi, in an elaborate tomb with an array of treasures. The book 'Hanin's Wake' describes the human sacrifice ritual performed in his honour. Even in death he was ruthless, it seems.
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mycrazyramblings · 5 years ago
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Fairy-Drabbles 36: The Prince and the Pauper
by @ulmo80​
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According to sources connected to the Royal House, Crown Officers, members of the Cybernetic and Financial Crime Divisions, are investigating a case of identity usurpation, whose victim, rumor has it, was no other than His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. Even though the inquest is in its initial stage, it is suspected the participation in the crime of the hacker The Pauper, who reached fame due to their attack against the Royal Treasure, when they diverged funds destined to the Royal Family holidays toward hospitals and orphanages in need.
You can read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600925
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mcjickson · 5 years ago
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THE CONSTANT
I think about Edith Fuller a lot. Edith Fuller, if you don’t remember—and there’s absolutely no reason you should, all things considered—was a wunderkind kindergartener who qualified to represent Tulsa in the Scripps Howard National Spelling Bee. You know, the one for eighth graders. At 6, Edith was the youngest contestant in the history of the Bee, and as such was the darling of the media covering the event. And with good reason—as she had no idea of the relative enormity of her achievement, she carried herself with the infectious humility of a genuine 6-year-old, not a media darling. She was basically the Bad News Bears of the Spelling Bee: a scrappy little towheaded upstart that you couldn’t help but root for. She made the final round of competition but caught some brutal words early in the day, and spent the rest of the event doing insanely adorable color commentary and interviews. And then the tournament was over, and Edith went home with her family and back to being a 6-year-old. I could not wait to see her come back as a first-grader. I was so very excited to see how far she could get with another year of study under her belt, so when the next year’s finalists were announced, I immediately searched the list to find her speller number. And she wasn’t there. She hadn’t qualified. There was no joy in Mudville; first-grade Edith had struck out. I felt a slight measure of relief for whichever 8th-grader from the greater Tulsa region had pulled off the upset. Turns out it wasn’t an eighth-grader, though. It was a dapper little 3rd grader in a bow tie. Young Sal Lakmissetti had done the impossible and knocked out America’s sweetheart. I was happy for him—until I read about how it happened. One of the reasons that watching the Bee is so emotionally involving is that the tension between the spellers and their occasionally overbearing parents can be so heart-wrenchingly intense. Edith had been a respite from that—her parents seemed to have been surprised that she had developed those skills. Sal’s dad on the other hand, had gotten indignant when Sal lost to Edith in Tulsa the year before. So he hired the previous year’s tournament champion to give Sal private lessons for a year. You know, the way you do when you want your 3rd grader to trounce a 1st grader in a contest for 13-year-olds. Not for nothing, but that is basically the plot of the movie Bad Words. Sal’s dad had turned him into Chitanya Chopra. I wonder if Sal’s dad knows how to spell “autofellatio.” I wonder if Edith had been heartbroken when she lost the Tulsa bee. Turns out, the next year she wasn’t interested in participating at all. And her dad didn’t push her, because it wasn’t about him. Edith Fuller’s dad got it right, and he just let her be a second-grader and pursue whatever her enormous second-grader heart wanted. I was ecstatic she didn’t return, that she was out there getting to be a kid. The funny thing is, I’m not really obsessed with spelling per se. What I am obsessed with, however, is the raw human drama of watching painfully awkward home-schooled kids on ESPN. There’s no denying the hilarity of some of their more awkward moments. But the real reason to watch is to marvel at their bravery. I’ve heard it alleged that the #1 most commonly held phobia in American adults is a fear of public speaking. And yet year after year, some of the most sheltered kids in America gather in a hotel in DC called The Gaylord (because these kids aren’t bullied enough, I guess), and walk up to a microphone before millions and risk entire-hometown-disappointing embarrassment. Wanting to more fully understand what these kids go through, I let my family talk me into entering an adult spelling bee sponsored by the local library. After my initial disappointment that “adult spelling bee” didn’t mean it was a four-letter-words contest, I got fully enthused at the prospect of competing, and even had our friend Scott design a t-shirt for me to compete in, emblazoned with a bee illustration and the mantra that governed my participation: “Edith Fuller is my constant.” By “constant”, I was referencing what was maybe the best-ever episode of Lost, a self-contained narrative about a man searching for the love of his life across shifting time periods. The usual complications of time travel narratives were overcome by the idea that in order for him to find his true path, he had to serve as a “constant” to remind other people what their true purpose was. My true purpose in entering the bee was to try to have the kind of come-what-may attitude that made Edith shine. And that’s largely the way it went down. I breezed through the first few rounds with ease, the words got hard in a hurry, but I acquitted myself nicely. After a solid initial hour that whittled a field of about forty people down to six, I was relieved when I got thrown a softball for an umbrella-drink-loving goober like me: daiquiri. Which I promptly misspelled. I’ll never forgive myself for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, but I’m always happy to throw that t-shirt on these days. Of course, now, a couple years removed my own bee experience, it’s more evident than ever to me that when I throw that t-shirt on, Edith Fuller is a codename. A transparent alias, at that. I’m sure you have a person in your life that serves as your constant: not necessarily your partner or best friend (though it could be), but the person you go to when you need to be reminded of who you really are. What you’re really about. Who believes in you with no agenda. I’ve been lucky to be that for a few people—I was my brother Patrick’s constant, for instance. And while Declan’s always been my wartime consigliere—there’s no one more clutch in a crisis—Delaney has always been my constant. They say having kids is like living with your heart outside your body, and that has always hit me at a cellular level. I don’t talk about it often—or ever really—as it’s not something that happened to me, or that I went through, it’s Delaney's story. But for context I need you to know that when she had a debilitating mystery affliction a couple years ago, she was put through a series of tests for terminal illnesses. Those tests came back negative, but for a little while I had to confront the possibility of losing my baby girl and it nearly fucking broke me. Thank jeebus, the folks at the Mayo Clinic were able to diagnose her malady, and it’s something she had to learn to live with, and cope with, and thrive with. And she’s done all of that, admirably, but it required her to delay college for a frustrating year. Given the ways we’ve all been sidelined lately, it’s done me good to remember the ways Delaney got through her involuntary gap year with grace. Multiple creative projects. Tending to the care of small things. Finding ways to breathe through the worst of it. And leaning on the people who love her most. And I’ve treasured her as my constant like never before, and spending time with her got me through being 2x4’ed by my avowed best friend. (There’s been some good-natured conjecture by well-meaning friends as to whether the most recent playlist was indeed a break-up mix. First of all, I don’t want to knock whatever any of you have do to get over somebody, but listening to a bunch of songs that rub your nose in the loss just isn’t my thing. There’s no denying that when I sequenced the songs, I was struck by the lyrical subtext that emerged, but they weren’t selected for that purpose. In fact, most of those songs were in the playlist before I found out what had happened. But it merits a thoughtful inquest, in any case. You poor bastards.) And I guess that’s the thing. There’s something legitimately sad about when your best-laid plans and most fervent desires don’t work out the way you envisioned, especially when it was completely out of your control. (And dear readers, as you well know, most things are out of our control.) But maybe, just maybe, if you can somehow keep your eyes open for the joy you find on the detour, and have a sense of where—or more specifically who—your true north is, you might wind up writing a better story than the one you had planned. And maybe this new story was the point of you all along. I love the thought that right now, in all likelihood, Edith is doing something that's simultaneously challenging and entirely age-appropriate. Which, in a very real way, will be her trophy for not participating. I don't think Edith's done with the Bee, but I'm also not sure I would be heartbroken if she was. And I absolutely believe that, much like Delaney, Edith has more in store for us than we could ever imagine. Even in the middle of missing my people—and especially my North Dakota hussy constant—I have to say that being reminded of who I really can be has me feeling like one of the Bad News Bears myself these days, with all the swagger of Ahmad stepping up to the plate in the Astrodome: “Back up, suckers. I feel good.”
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