#Inland Sea Campaign

[akpaley]

Made smooth and slick of seas and strands Tides that turn at your commands A heartbeat held by heavy hands

More Kaijja character writing. Roughly 1200 words on the beginning of her romantic relationship with the flesh god.

---

He does not mind solitude, but when you lack other obligations he does not mind your intrusion either. It is perhaps not usual, but it is natural to be fascinated with a god. You intrude often. You call it an extension of work, and the two of you do work through problems together. He was surprised, once upon a time, when he inflicted experience on you to demonstrate the severity of his edicts and you, not unshaken but still engaged, asked if he felt such detail in the experience of every person he faced. He had not been asked to use his power as a tool of empathy, not after imposing such suffering, not in centuries, but it is commonplace between you now. You wonder to what extent he can feel you enjoy it, even when it is excruciating. And the intellectual exercise is useful. Many times simulation of similar encounters has helped you watch for signs of tension, has made you more perceptive to the way your interlocutors conduct themselves and react to you. It is practical, and there is a quiet selfish pleasure in understanding the way he sees and feels the world.

Mirjat tells you it is unusual for Iokhar's Advocate to be his friend, or even to like the man, and you understand that but you do not relate. He is beautiful when he attempts to be terrifying, he is rational when he cannot intimidate, he is deeply intensely perceptive, and in his own stoic way he is oddly soft. Perhaps kind is a better word. He cares much more deeply than he shows. There is a selfish little thrill in that as well, knowing that you have brought out in him qualities most others never see. Knowing that you surprise him, a man who can feel everything but your thoughts just standing across from you. You accomplish a great deal in your tenure, but it is this that most often produces that quiet sense of pride.

He shows you change. In theory this is to make a point, but the point is unnecessary. You are not asking about something of immediate importance. It is after hours and you are asking about a story, about old scripture, from a primary source. This is not uncommon, and alongside speaking in words he chooses to sate a curiosity he knows you will have. When he has pulled you back together into the right shape you grin up at him. He studies you, near expressionless, and says "This is inappropriate." It is the strangest declaration of love you will ever receive, and you see it for what it is immediately. It should shock you, but somehow it does not. You agree. The evening ends with a veneer of stoic professionalism.

You will talk about it the next day. You will talk about it for the next week. You will see a degree of begrudging openness from him that you will not realize has been kept from you until you see it for the first time. You seek counsel, as is the responsible thing to do, but find that there is very little doubt as to the choice you will make. Mirjat appeals to your career, to the work that you've done, to the work that you might still do, and you find the arguments that have driven you all your life unconvincing.

You split your evenings between discussions with Iokhar and your own private consideration. You know the thrill of new intimacy will cloud your judgment, and he does too, but you both recognize that no matter what decision the two of you make your relationship will change. The idea of a purely professional relationship absent discussions of philosophy, history, art and other work feels galling, having experienced a relationship that is mutually irreplaceable. Later the idea of being irreplaceable to him will raise warmth in your chest and bring a smile to your face, but in that week while you assess it is simply a fact to be weighed. You are problem solving. Your feelings are data, but you do not have time to feel them fully. Only that they tell you what you want. You will resign with two weeks left in the season and half a term unfinished. It will take you most of the remaining two weeks working with your Clericy to choose Devadas as a successor, swear him in as Kalidas, and get him up to speed.

You already spend a great deal of time working during the on season, but for the better part of two weeks private time is practically nonexistent. This is a major adjustment, expected by no one, and by the time Iokhar leaves Kalidas must be prepared to represent him fully in the Council of Advocates. Anything you knew, anything you were working on, must be written down in such detail that it can be picked up where you left off. While you will join the Clericy of Iokhar, thus becoming available as a resource, it will take another month for the Clericy of the Petitioner Saints to determine this is the appropriate course of action and you must prepare for the contingency in which your full abdication from governance is determined necessary. It is not until the final night that you and your god finally have proper time together again. You sit quietly for much of it. He holds you and seems unpracticed, which to be fair you are as well. A decade is not a short time. A century and a half is longer. Yet, for all that, the mere ten months in front of you suddenly seems very long indeed.

"I would hear your voice when I am gone," he tells you, and it is less vulnerability than simple truth.

"I'd love to hear yours too," you say with irony, "but I suppose one of us will have to wait."

"I will not shirk my duties," he says, "But--"

"I would not ask you to." He pauses and then drops the apology. "Come back next season with stories for me." You smile as if this is a usual farewell, a friendship set aside to be picked up where it left off upon his return.

Very calmly, he takes your hand in his and matches his gaze to yours. For the first time you can feel the sensation of his own body mapped to yours, and you feel his quiet simmering hunger for you, individual fibers of his being humming beneath his skin for touch that a human lover could never even pretend. You feel it in the strands of your own muscles, suddenly yearning to rise up from beneath your skin and embrace the man in front of you. It is nearly overwhelming. Your breath catches and you do not dare break his gaze for fear it might stop. His voice is a low rumble in his chest. "I will." 

It is a greater promise than you asked for. It will stick with you during the long months of his absence, haunting your prayers and quiet moments and intruding on your activities unprompted.  

Upon his return, he will admit that this was the point.

[tellusd20]

Dev Journal 2: The world of Tellus

This is the current draft version of the world map for my homebrew campaign setting. It was cobbled together using a mix of Fractal Terrains 3, Photoshop, and Wonderdraft. It's been interesting going through each iteration and trying to land the particular combination of alien and familiar that I want to achieve. If a fantasy world is too Earthlike, it becomes difficult to break away from expectations of what will be found in each area. But if its too alien, the player's expectations of what might be found in a region become harder to visualize. This particular version has not quite accomplished what I'm trying to find yet, future iterations will likely venture more into the alien side of the spectrum. However, this is a good start and while this world is quite familiarly shaped, it'll have some very interesting geopolitics. As a starter, you may notice that there's not much distance between many of the continents. Seagoing exploration by the Tellus equivalent of the Greeks, Phoenicians, and Polynesians would have likely achieved something equivalent to the Colombian Exchange much earlier than our world. Likewise, trade between the Orient and Occident is much easier, which will create some fascinating opportunities for cultural exchanges. Vast quantities of wealth flow through these vital trade arteries, meaning that any nation with ambitions of being a power worth considering will require a substantial fleet to protect their interests. Tellus is still embarrassingly underdeveloped so far, with vast amounts of blank space in my documents, but I'll provide a brief description of each continent and its major powers and provide more details later. Names are all provisional and may be changed in future drafts; I like to use placeholders and end up changing them frequently. In the descriptions below I include equivalents to RL nations, this is meant as a reference to their closest geopolitical analogue, not that they are necessarily clones of that state. Belus: Obviously this world's equivalent to Europe, differentiated largely by the presence of an inland sea. Directly to its north is the Grey Sea, to the south is the Medial Sea. Its greatest power is the Second Empire of Abdera; a sprawling feudal mess equivalent to a super-HRE, stretching from this world's equivalent of Spain to Germany. More often at war with itself than outside powers, the Second Empire's stability and prestige have had an alarming decline due to the emergence of the Republic of Brennos (eqv. Napoleonic France) within its former territories. The Second Empire's neighbors, particularly Dynne (eqv. Great Britain) play a delicate game of exploiting Imperial weakness while trying not to throw the continent into complete chaos. To the east, the Empire of Melate (eqv. Ottomans) are recovering from a century of decline with a reformist empress on the throne. Their strategic position and the exhaustion of their Belusan rivals fuel the ambitions of elven revanchists.

Azbine: Essentially Africa, Azbine is a huge & diverse continent in terms of politics, climate, geography, and population density. Its northwest coast is largely divided up into feudal possessions of the Second Empire, as well as daughter republics of Brennos legitimized by peace treaty. The northeast corner, south of the large peninsula that is Melate's heartland, are the Majeri Republics (eqv. Venice); an oligarchic federation of city-states that are wealthy and loyal protectorates of Melate. Their cities are among the wealthiest on the planet thanks to the trade routes they sit upon. Along the eastern coastline are small kingdoms and city-states that also thrive on (or prey upon) trade between Azbine and Dahae, as well as Alamgiri colonies (see Dahae below).

Nirimzad (eqv. Congo Free State), the vast territory of a clan of green dragons, encompasses the circular sea in central Azbine and its surrounding coastline. The dragons squabble and intrigue against each other, unified only in extracting as much wealth as possible from their hunting ground. Their warlords and slave armies would likely overrun much of the central continent were they not constantly pitted against each other for the entertainment and petty grudges of the dragons. Alwealde: South America, duh. The northeast coast is primarily occupied by the Kingdom of Selvas - a secessionist colony from the Second Empire that's also a feudal mess of direct colonial holdings and integrated native vassals. A federation of city-states styled along the lines of the Delian League control the rest of the eastern coast; they are theocratic governments run by a priestly class with rulers descended from a planetouched bloodline. Hesperus: A handful of Belusan colonies with competing territorial claims squat on the coasts as well as the independent nation of Ladrinne (eqv USA) where the losing Parliamentary faction of the Dynnish civil war fled and established a government in exile. Ladrinne styles itself as the rightful government of the Dynnish islands. The old guard aristocrats are naturally fading away and being replaced by revanchist radicals inspired by the Brenne Revolution. Eastern Hesperus is easily a potential powderkeg for the next war, whether due to colonial competition or Ladrinne's parliament finally deciding to expel the monarchists from 'their' continent. Elsewhere in Hesperus, the natives are doing better than OTL, having never suffered the same population collapse from disease as that which followed contact. Tola: Obviously an Asiatic continent, Tola's central steppes are the domain of orcish tribes and petty kingdoms (eqv Mongols). To the west, Ryaz principalities and successor kingdoms to an old Orc empire crowd against inland seas and compete for coastal access. To the east are the Golden Lands, the richest agriculture lands in the world thanks to a series of great lakes and high mountain glaciers that feed dozens of rivers. The agricultural wealth of the Golden Lands unfortunately also brings much ambition; the region is divided between six states with a variety of ideologies (eqv. Chinese warlord era)

Dahae: The Dahaen subcontinent is home to what's likely the most powerful empire in the world, Alamgir (eqv. Mughals). Alamgir's orcish ruling class possess sprawling lands teeming with millions, a strong export economy, and a large, well-trained military that is regularly tested in border conflicts with its neighbors. Alamgir shares the subcontinent and its archipelago with several other major powers and dozens of minor states.

[rauthschild]

We have described for you the deplorable criminality which has gained access to our world through the British Government(s) and their collusion with the Holy Roman Empire -- the impersonation of people as different kinds of corporations, the illegal and unlawful direct taxation of civilians by private banks, the use of commercial corporations to usurp national governments, and we have touched upon the corruption of the courts, especially Admiralty Courts and the so-called King's Bench (Maritime Commerce) courts.

We have plainly stated that the courts are bonding court cases and presenting them as investment opportunities. The bond numbers are case numbers, and the odds of conviction and "commission returns" on these bonds run at 96% on average, so the Hired Jurists running these courts are highly motivated to secure convictions by any means possible ---- the courts and the court's officers share in the booty they collect.

Government "Investors" are also highly motivated to keep this gravy train running. Where else can you guarantee yourself a 96% rate of return on a short term bond investment?

When first confronted about this "Court Registry Investment System" court officials stonewalled and denied the existence of any such bond investment (and ultimately, payola) system by which they receive commissions, aka, "pension" payments from all the loot rolling in from the illegal confiscation of privately-held American assets and equally illegal betting on the rigged outcome of court cases controlled by Hired Jurists in the King's Service.

The Guilty Parties observe that there is no law against murdering corporations, stealing from corporations, impounding corporations, etc., but then, in the same token, corporations should have no ability to make unlimited political campaign contributions, should they?

Those responsible for the unconscionable contracts allowing them to create all these Puerto Rican shelf corporations, and the Roman Inferior Cestui Que Vie Trusts that result when the shelf corporations are bankrupted, should be paying all the charges and expenses of maintaining these corporations and should also be paying all taxes owed by these imaginary corporate franchises, too.

The living victims of this personage scheme should be held absolutely harmless from all charges and harm, but as everyone can see and attest, the Parent Corporations and Administrators have been evading their Usufructuary Duty and foisting their responsibility off onto the victims of their inland piracy.

The Admiralty Courts have been busy collecting booty belonging purportedly to "rebels" engaged in illegal commercial mercenary "wars", and salvage fees owed by foreign sovereigns, and managing the Estates of imaginary British Merchant Mariners, who all just happen to be "Taxpayers" --- Warrant Officers who are responsible for collecting tariffs for the King, who are all based out of Puerto Rico and all declared "missing, lost at sea".

The Maritime Commercial Courts operated by the British Crown have been fraudulently confusing themselves -- the so-called United States District Courts -- with district courts of the United States authorized under Article V of the Federal Constitutions. Under this guise of borrowed rectitude, they have been operated as "concessions" to take advantage of the Cestui Que Vie ESTATES purportedly belonging to Municipal "citizens of the United States".

Are we all beginning to get the drift of just how crooked all these operations are and the nature of the "courts" that have been foisted off on the people of this country, who have all suffered crimes of impersonation and identity theft and human trafficking, at the hands of men employed by them to protect their "persons" and who are obligated by contract and treaty to do so?

As mentioned in our International Public Notice: Impersonation, the British Territorial Rump Congress created by Abraham Lincoln changed the meaning of the word "person" to mean "corporation".

See 37th Congress, Second Session, Chapter 49, Section 68.

This was followed up on February 2nd 1871, when the 41st British Territorial U.S. Congress declared itself to be the Successor of all United States Corporations.

The "United States" being referenced is the American Federal Republic and its corporations.

This takeover was done with no Notice to the Public, no listing in the Congressional Record, and, most importantly, no Notice to the Federation of States. It failed all requirements of Due Process.

How is that even possible?

By February 2nd 1871, all the State Governments had been confused with State of State Governments, and the Brits had illegally included State assets as if they were American State of State assets, and rolled everything into "State" Trusts.

They had also demanded that the people of each State write new Constitutions allowing their own British Territorial State-of-State operations to take over.

The American States of States, such as The State of New York, were replaced by British Territorial counterparts calling themselves, for example, "the State of New York". The name change was so slight, a change from "The" to "the", that nobody but British Collaborators knew there had been any change at all.

The new "State" Constitutions enacted between 1863 and 1871 were equally vague and deceitful, appearing very similar to prior service contracts and calculated to hide what was actually going on from the American Public.

By February 2nd 1871, the assets of the actual Autochthonous Nation States had been illegally and illogically misidentified as assets of the Federal Republic and had been cashiered in covert State Trusts, like the Michigan State (Trust).

This is what gives rise to the grammatical nightmare of "the Michigan State Capitol" and "California State University".

As an analogy, if the company hired to mow your lawn went bankrupt, or for any reason failed to perform, would this justify an assumption that your property was part of their bankruptcy or incompetence? Would this scenario justify an assumption that your home was an asset of their bankrupt business? Or an unclaimed chattel of theirs?

Certainly not, yet this is precisely the "reasoning" employed to secretly latch upon the assets of the American States and cashier them in State Trusts controlled by the Perpetrators of this gigantic fraud scheme.

With the State assets illegally cashiered in trusts controlled by the Perpetrators under False Pretenses, the original American State of State organizations inoperable, and British Territorial States of States operating as franchises of the British Territorial corporation calling itself "the United States of America" --- Incorporated, there was nothing to stop the Perpetrators from bypassing Due Process owed to the actual States and People.

According to them and what they told the rest of the world, we had ceased to exist. Our lawful American Government was reportedly "in interregnum" and in the meantime, our British Territorial and Holy Roman Empire Federal Subcontractors were "assuming" a "custodial interest" in our assets.

In this way, the British Territorial Government under contract to our States, contrived to unlawfully convert our State assets into Public Trust assets controlled by their Agents, and to mothball and substitute their own "services" for both our Autochthonous American States-of-State organizations and our lawful State Governments.

This is all premeditated, malicious, self-interested legal chicanery and constructive fraud, by which our foreign employees have attempted to erase our national sovereignty, use our assets as collateral backing their debts, and ultimately, bring False Claims on Abandonment against our assets for their benefit.

We never abandoned anything, just like we never volunteered to act as "Taxpayers" and never knowingly adopted U.S. Citizenship, and were told nothing about the Roman Inferior Trust ESTATES established for us under the resoundingly False Presumption that we were ever "citizens of the United States", either.

These False Friends and False Representatives impersonated the American States and seized upon their assets, and have controlled our State assets by dint of secrecy, False Legal Presumptions, and False Claims dependent on similar names deceits.

Our original state-of-state entities doing business as, for example, The State of New York, were members of the failed Confederation.

Likewise, the stricken State Republics and Republics of State, such as the Texas Republic and Republic of Texas, were members of the failed Federal Republic.

Their assets might, arguably, be salvaged and secured by the British Territorial Federal Subcontractors doing business as the United States of America, Incorporated ---- but not the assets of our Autochthonous Nation-States.

Our Autochthonous unincorporated States of the Union are members of the unincorporated Federation of States.

There are no "United States Corporations" present for British Interests to seize upon or assume any custodial interest in.

In the same way, there is no excuse for them impersonating our States as State Trusts, substituting their state-of-state organizations for ours, nor any of the criminal impersonations and undisclosed registrations of individual Americans that have taken place.

There is no plausible excuse for them bringing their Admiralty and Maritime courts ashore and misaddressing American civilians as corporate franchises and foreign persons in their own country.

All of this is in direct violation of both The Constitution of the United States of America and The Constitution of the United States, Article IV, in its entirety.

These men and women are present in our country to provide us with essential government services in "good faith", not to practice crimes of personage against us and pretend that they are our "representatives", custodians, guardians, and trustees.

For those who cannot believe that the Admiralty and Maritime courts presently operating in this country have been used to promote illegal and immoral confiscation of Autochthonous American assets, to commit personage against average Americans, to create a rigged bond market and to provide commissions masked as "pension payments" to the men and women engaged in this criminal activity, we are attaching a 66 page pdf file that adequately explains the Court Registry Investment System (CRIS) and documents its receipts.

[csial]

THE HYDRO ARCHON OF LIYUE.

Victory was supposed to taste sweet, and yet there is a bitterness that sits in Osial's throat, tightening his chest, as he cradles the gnosis on his palm. The ground quakes, rumblings of something confined deep in abyssal depths, held at bay until their business can be finished. A contract of ancient creatures determined to deny death now lies in tatters before the final victor, the blood stained pages his reminder of his betrayal.

This is the verse where Osial wins, but the victory is not as sweet as he thought it might be. It begins at Havria's death, when the loss of the one he calls friend churns the seas and coerces this ancient god to give into his worst instincts. What follows is a more aggressive front, a cruel offence to ensure he is not swallowed into Morax's victories. And it ends with the summoning of those left, who are too weak to face Morax alone, putting a proposal before them. Why should we give way to the land when the sea will always consume it in the end? Let us unite and drown the earth he stands upon, swallow his cities and nations in our tides, ensure that the rage of the sea is known?

And enough agree to form an alliance to defeat Morax, waiting for the opportune moment. Though Osial knows not one of them will survive, for they are his fodder to weary his foe until he can seal him away.

On a battlefield of their blood and anguished cries he does as much, luck or fortune giving him but a brief moment when continuous battle has wearied Morax enough to catch him offguard. A prison beneath the waves, where even the greatest quakes will be consumed by the current becomes the home of Morax, and though his losses are great Osial is undettered, finishing the last who oppose to claim Celestia's crown.

A pity the weight of the crown is not one he was meant to bear. A pity it be ill suited to his disposition.

Liyue grows, as civilisation does, but its people are different. A nation of seafarers and pirates, those who follow the old ways of Morax and Guizhong seeking harbour where Osial's waters cannot touch with ease, though he does bring the floods in his struggles to manage their defiance. The people of Osial are not prosperous but seaworn and tough, wary of outsiders, and holding respect for the sea above all others. Eventually trade grows, the need for more settlements takes them inland, but there is no Liyue Harbour as we know it.

And all the while Osial resents the fact he cannot feel pride in his victory. No matter how many battles he wins, how powerful he grows with the belief of his power, there is something fundamentally wrong. Something that draws him back to the one he keeps beneath the waves, visiting in search of the answer as to why this is wrong, without asking the question.

In the modern day Osial walks among the people in his human form, and appears before them in his god vessel. He does not make the deal with The Tsaritsa for the gnosis, for he will not part with the thing that he fought to claim. It would make things certainly interesting on how that all plays out.

INFO:

Osial is the archon, he defeated Morax by setting aside his pride and allying with others who also wanted to resist Morax. What he did not tell them was he intended to use them all as fodder to see the other fall.

Osial does not kill Morax, for he knows that killing a god is dangerous. He uses an old seal instead to keep him imprisoned within his realm. Morax has freedom within the space he is confined to but the only one who can visit is Osial.

Beisht was a casualty of Osial's campaign. He gave up everything to get the gnosis.

Carrying the weight of being the archon sits ill with Osial. It's an itch beneath the skin he cannot settle, a heavy burden that weighs on his shoulders. He will not admit to it, because to admit to it would mean he gave up everything for nothing. Unfortunately that means the brunt of his feelings is taken by either the humans or Morax is he visits him.

Osial suffers from the even when I have him imprisoned and sealed he's laughing at me attitude towards Morax. It makes his interactions cruel at times, though he can also be entirely despondant sitting for times without saying a word.

As power grows with belief, he is much stronger in this verse, for even those who choose to still follow Morax fear him and think of him.

I would imagine Xiao, in this verse, acts as the protector of the people of Morax (though of course it is up to those who rp Xiao). The adepti were given the choice to bow to Osial or see their lands consumed by the sea. Most chose neutrality out of practicality.

In my head this means that Fontaine has a geo archon instead (Navia? dsfhdskj ) but there could be possibilities for various shuffles elsewhere. I'd be happy to plot out connections.

[reneeofthestars]

Demetra, a Blood Hunter!

My D&D group has started a new campaign, which means it's time for everyone to get new character portraits!

Demetra is a Blood Hunter from a tropical island near the equator. She is one of the few of her people to leave the island and explore the nearby continents. At more than six feet tall and with a penchant for violence, she is an intimidating foe to face. No matter how far inland she goes, something in the fathoms of the sea calls out to her...

[foxqueen-katarian]

don’t even need to be on Anon for this i love hearing about home brew worlds — the name Ghost Lights is incredible and i love the geographic setting you e given it, but like what was the recession?? i love to know the histories and how that plays out in respect to your campaign!

The Recession was the day the tides went out, and did not return. The Old Coast is quiet literally the old coast. After the Recession most of population moved either further inland into the Reverie or took their chances navigating across the now dry sea floor in the hopes of figuring out where the ocean had gone. There is no agreed upon reason for the Recession, some blame the Gods, some say it was the workings of the Mages in their high towers that they opened a portal to somewhere else and drained the water away, others say a great dragon made of ice sprayed ocean water into the heavens to make new stars. All anyone knows is that one day the ocean slipped away, leaving nothing but sand and stone behind. Still taking questions about my homebrew world, basic primer can be found HERE

[blackestnight]

ttrpg directory 2023

it's that time of year again! the annual local gaming convention means my annual ttrpg roster (below the cut for convenience).

THE BLORBOS:

pathfinder

electra godstongue (half-elf aasimar oracle of flames): still alive and kickin', somehow! at present the circus is taking a break while the party adventures through the darklands, and electra has been having a lovely time schmoozing her way through a city of undead drow. (we did get invited to perform as guests in the local circus, and she successfully defended her title as the best fire-eater in the inner seas.) at present she's stuck in a fucked-up wizard tower and the party is trying to steal back a magical orb...that the wizard stole...after a god failed to steal it.

and, you all will be happy to know, her 'most damage in a single turn of combat' record remains unbroken at 959 damage with a seventh-level sunburst.

álmos szarka (half-elf thaumaturge, organized play): the most trustworthy* wizard* you know, selling authentic* magical talismans* at reasonable prices*

*absolutely none of this is true

they are a master bullshitmonger, though. álmos is so good at spinning tales that they're the party Lore Guy, despite having an intelligence bonus of 0, because they can convince anyone that they know what they're talking about (and sometimes they actually do). they once famously distracted a night hag for an entire round of combat by pulling a random piece of garbage costume jewelry out of their pocket and convincing the hag it was a magical key to a legendary vault full of the pathfinder society's greatest treasures. they're also stealthy and tricky enough that they frequently out-rogue the rogue.

ivorna fen (half-elf twisting tree magus, organized play): a new character, formerly a student at Wizard School until she got kicked out for beating people up with her fancy wizard staff. she's since taken on her own independent studies combining martial and magical disciplines, and her custom-made staff is her pride and joy: it's made of interlocking wood pieces that expand and contract magically, and her spell book is actually a long strip of engraved leather that she wraps around it in an intricate criss-crossing pattern and functions as a scytale, forming different spells depending on how she's arranged the segments of her staff. she spends most of her time cleaning up pathfinder society messes, especially (ironically) in the daceline academy for pathfinder agents' children.

nitamani ruby-eyes (elf oread swashbuckler battledancer): also a new character for an ongoing campaign set in alkenstar, the clockwork city in the mana wastes. a former saloon dancer turned unintentional outlaw after getting on the wrong side of the corrupt shieldmarshals, she takes her throwing knives and her distracting hip shimmies into battle in the name of the duchess of alkenstar in an effort to restore rightful power to a less-bad option than the guys in charge now. she's also one of the two party faces—the other being the cleric, a devotee of the goddess of lust. she and the cleric keep running scams where they pretend to be married and play the most obnoxious rich patrons in any given establishment who want to speak to the manager. no one can tell if they're actually flirting while they do this. that "no one" includes me.

she's also a local legend at the longhorn lounge, where she not only won the annual bull-riding contest, but did so while standing upright on top of the bull.

zafsah the harrower (fetchling ranger, organized play): making her debut this weekend, she comes equipped for any adventure with glowing eyes, a fuck-off scythe, and a pet terror bird named hades. she used to be a rancher in the shadow-flooded kingdom of nidal before escaping inland and making her way to absalom to join the pathfinders and explore the world outside the dark domain she'd lived her whole life in. mostly she's been taking jobs on the night watch near the gravelands, looking for undead incursions, which doesn't help with the whole...aura she's got going.

boney angles (skeleton gunslinger pistolero): they're a skeleton. they dual-wield pistols. they wear a leather harness and garters and strike a lot of cheesecake poses. that's really it tbh

starfinder

starmistress britta makee (human solarian): still here, still has her fancy space knife. she also has a planet, technically. not the one she's already the crown princess of. a different planet. she got it as a gift for helping a space emperor dethrone his fucked-up sister. she gave the planet away though and now she's a civilian representative on a governing council for a new democratic space republic that's caught between four warring space empires and some genocidal sentient space robots, because of course she is. also she might be trapped in hell, or in an extradimensional bottomless ocean, or something. but it's fine! the party has a plan: let britta turn into motes of light (she can just...do that), stick her in a jar, and chuck her into the enemy stronghold through the vents. say hello to my little friend.

Z-N0N (android exocortex mechanic): they're back and cringier than ever! your least favorite space twitch streamer is still wearing their backwards baseball cap, still saying "lit" like it's cool, and still the only person in the party who speaks any given language, but they have the social acumen of a twelve-year-old whose conversational skillset was developed on space xbox live chats.

[desertleviathan]

I'm working on a TTRPG pitch for my group for when our current campaign wraps up. Tell me, which of the following pitches intrigues you more? These are all in the same setting where there is a caustic miasma of corrupted magic that fills much of the wilderness and weakens the barriers that should keep Murderous Void Monsters From Beyond Space/Time from barging into the world. Civilization such as it is mostly endures as a handful of dense, isolated population centers sheltered behind whatever fortifications they can muster.

1.) The Tortoise Citadel: One of the largest cities in the world is built on the back of a stone tortoise statue the size of a small mountain, a relic of a bygone age whose original purpose is lost, but whose construction makes it a very convenient defensible position. This city was once the capital of an empire and remained an important power even after that empire reorganized into a republic. This city was until recently the HQ of an elite international society of Void-Monster Slaying Knights, among the only warriors in the world have a particularly laudable record of prevailing against the creatures. The Knights have recently abandoned the city though, after an ill-advised attempt by the government to legislate them into a formal wing of the Republic army, rather than continuing to honor the political independence that let the Knights operate abroad even in nations that were hostile to the Republic. The government is now flailing around for solutions to the void monster problem that won't involve humbling themselves enough to beg the Knights to return, and there are abundant opportunities for freelance adventurer types to get rich taking bounties. But it's probably best if you put together a solid team, since even the weakest Void Monsters are ludicrously deadly.

2.) The Crawling Metropolis: Gremlins are the most common type of Goblin on the continent, with a strong cultural emphasis on engineering and unorthodox problem solving. One of their three great cities occupies a zone of warding magic that seems to drive the Void Monsters away. The problem is, this zone isn't fixed - it crawls at a rate of a kilometer or two a week up and down a coastal region, but rarely drifts further inland towards the mountains because it seems to favor sea level. The Gremlins have retrofitted their city to be modular, capable of disassembly at the trailing edge and reassembly at the leading edge in little chunks that can be carried by labor golems and excavating machinery. This allows the city to slowly crawl along keeping pace with the safe zone, with work crews constantly scooting pieces of the city from the back around the outer edge and plopping them down in front. But the region is full of weird old ruins, monster nests, hostile dissident gremlins, inconvenient geography, and other hazards. Scouting parties are regularly sent out to figure out what threats there are within the city's most likely path and either neutralize them or report back to the gremlin engineers so they can prepare for the worst. Additionally, before the gremlins picked up the city and started moving it, a number of Fallen Angels slain in the First War had their remains interred here, and those mausoleums are now scattered in god only knows what configuration among the modular city sections. While most monsters rarely intrude into the warded zone, much less the actual city boundaries, sometimes deeply weird ghost-like beings emerge from those mausoleums and need to be dealt with. More importantly, it's entirely likely that if the angelic mausoleums ever slip out of the zone of warding magic there will be real serious consequences.

3.) The Skyship Graveyard: Skyship technology is widespread and has been for centuries, although it's currently in decline because this is an era of sharply limited resources. Often a skyship will become damaged enough that it can no longer travel, but the enchanted machinery that allows it to hover in place is still operational. Such lift systems are usually the sturdiest devices on the ship by far. In one place, enterprising individuals have lashed hundreds of these derelict vessels into a complex three-dimensional city connected to the land below only by huge anchor chains. This is very safe from Void Monsters... but all those lift engines need a lot of maintenance to keep from leaking magical toxins. Gradually the community's ability to keep up with these repairs has fallen behind, and mutations and illness run rampant. Players are a scavenger crew sent out to obtain necessary repair materials by whatever means are necessary.

4.) The Hanging Market: This planet's twin World Trees, growing in a helical curve around each other, are vast enough to support several communities scattered throughout their canopies, clinging to their trunks, or nestled among their roots. One of these is a major port of international trade, a market built of thousands of structures anchored to the trunk of one of the trees, navigable by a labyrinth of bridges, ladders, catwalks, and cargo elevators. Among the goods and services for sale in the hanging markets of Barktap (so called due to the breweries that distill liquor from the sap of the tree, which existed before the rest of the market grew around them) are adventurers for hire. It is an excellent home base for mercenaries who either want to travel the world (the nearby skyship port of Highbridge stretches between the trunks of the two trees), but there's honestly more than enough work in the communities on and around the trees to keep someone busy for a lifetime as well.

5.) The Inverted City: On the west continent there is a vast turbulent thunderstorm that was born of a magical calamity, which has been churning overhead for centuries without depositing a single drop of rain. No one lives towards its middle, but on the edges life is barely possible. One city, occupying fairly well-preserved ruins from a precursor civilization, features a wealth of immense towers that modern folks would recognize as akin to skyscrapers. One would expect the very very wealthy to claim the upper floors of such structures, but in this place, with the sky gone mad overhead, the relationship between height and desirability in real estate is inverted. The richest folk live in catacombs beneath the city and can go for weeks at a time without emerging to the surface, while the most desolate slums are up on the rooftops in the cacophony of the storm. In this environment of tremendous disparity between wealth and poverty, a number of criminal factions have emerged, some more altruistic than others. Players would be an up-and-coming gang trying to stake out their own territory and build enough of a positive reputation that others will flock to them for protection, thereby increasing their prestige and resources.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Tactician’s Soliloquy zine! I tried to capture as many different flavours of Robin (well, Chrobin, really, but shhhh). Thank you FeH for giving me so many Robin outfits to work with.

…

…

…

…

Robin closed her eyes and breathed in. The sharp sea air cut through her senses, stinging her nose slightly. It was as salty as she’d imagined. There were other strange scents mixed in, some fishy, and she wasn’t sure if it was actual sea creatures or something else. A cool breeze brushed against her bare skin, a small relief from the summer sun as it beat on her. Maybe she should take off her cloak and just walk around in her bikini.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the endless blue ahead. In the distance, the sky met the water, but Robin couldn’t’ see any land there. She couldn’t see any at all touching the sides. “Naga, it’s so big.”

“You said that an hour ago.” Chrom chuckled. Crouched by the shoreline, he inspected the small pebbles scattered about him, half-hidden by the sand. The sea lapped the shoreline, small waves crashing against his bare arms as they reached land. It was a good thing Frederick had forced them all to change into swimsuits before they’d arrived; if the water hadn’t ruined their clothes, the sand would have.

Robin flushed, embarrassed. Gripping her spear tightly, she grumbled, “That’s because it’s still true.”

“I guess so.” Finding a particularly flat rock, Chrom stood and skipped it. The rock bounced thrice before sinking into the sea’s murky depths. “It is amazing.”

“I wonder if there’s something on the other side,” Robin mused, rubbing her chin. “Theoretically, if we sailed long enough…we’d have to make sure we got enough food and water…perhaps via rain and fishing…”

“Is that why you have so many?” Chrom teased, pointing at the net bag looped loosely around her belt. “Didn’t think you’d become a fisherman after all this.”

“Huh?” Robin blinked, looking down. She’d almost forgotten all about her sea-findings. As she’d walked the shoreline the past hour, she’d collected every shell, fish, and small creature she’d come across, and it was only thanks to Frederick’s spartan training that she could carry it all. Not that she would ever tell him that. “Oh, no, I was just collecting things. Miriel might help me understand what they are.”

“The fish?” Chrom raised a brow and chuckled. “Did you lose your memories again?”

It was tempting to toss one of her hard-earned specimens at him, but that would have been a waste. Maybe she could just toss a fist full of sand at him instead. It’d take months before he got it all out.

“No,” Robin sniped back, frowning. “We just haven’t caught these before.” She pointed at the eight-legged orange creature poking out of the bag. “Like that? What is it?”

Chrom stared at it, his brow furrowed as he concentrated. After a minute, he guessed, “An octopus?”

“Yes—I mean…” Robin sighed. She should have thought it all out before she’d started talking; it sounded absolutely ridiculous when he said it. “I haven’t really—most of our campaigns have been inland, away from the sea—we only get them dead and eat them—”

As she babbled, Chrom merely stared at her, his amused grin growing wider.

There really was no way to explain this without sounding silly. Robin fumed, giving in. “Fine. I mean, I might have seen them before you found me but none of it feels familiar. It might as well be brand new to me.” Pulling a small pouch off her belt, she opened it and pulled out a small shell. “Even these are different than the ones we’ve seen before.”

“Oh.” Immediately, Chrom walked over and squeezed her shoulder apologetically. “Sometimes, you’re so smart, I forget that you’re still relearning things. It is amazing when you see it for the first time or even now.”

Robin softened. It was hard to stay mad at him for long. Reaching up, she covered his hand and smiled. “It’s fine. Have you been to the sea before?”

“Yeah, once, with Emmeryn and Lissa.” Chrom lowered his eyes, his gaze distant as it always was when he thought of his sister. She wondered how long it would take before it didn’t hurt to say her name.

Probably as long as it took her to fill the void where her memories used to be.

Chrom smiled gently, scuffing his toes against the soft sand. “We made a sandcastle, I think. Lissa wasn’t much more than a baby. It was probably Emmeryn’s last break before she took on her duties.”

“It’ll be different for you,” Robin replied carefully. “You got all of us to help out; the country won’t notice if you disappear for a day or two.”

“Don’t tell Frederick that, or he’ll give me more work,” Chrom joked, but his smile reached his eyes now and she was relieved. Tugging on her cloak, he asked, “Why’re you still wearing this?”

“Ehh….” Robin scratched her cheek, not sure how to explain. It was tempting to remove it all, especially after the sun’s unrelenting heat. Yet, it felt like a second skin and she couldn’t imagine going anywhere without it. “It has pockets and I’m picking up a lot of rocks,” she half-explained.

Chrom looked at her doubtfully before shrugging. “Alright, but if you pass out, I’m leaving you there.”

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. He hadn’t left her behind when she was just a stranger, passed out on the side of the road. He wouldn’t do it now that they were more than that, their past and future weaved together in a tangled tapestry.

“Where’s Frederick?” Robin asked, pushing back her pigtails as she glanced along the beach. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since they’d arrived, which should have been impossible since she’d been with Chrom most of that time. Frederick never left Chrom’s side.

And Robin meant never. It had been hard enough to talk to Chrom back in those early days, when his faithful knight hadn’t trusted her as far as he could throw her. At least now she could actually breath easy next to them.

Their entire time at the beach, Robin had seen Tiki smashing watermelons with Nowi, Cordelia and Sully dueling, and Gregor and Virion swimming.  Even Panne and Lon’qu had somehow managed to relax. Yet, no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Frederick.  “I thought he’d be clearing out the beach by now.”

Chrom shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that. I actually had to stop him three times.” He glanced at her bag and smirked. “Though, I guess you’re doing it for him.”

Robin punched him in the arm. “Don’t.”

“I give, I give.” Chrom backed away, hands in the air. “I think he’s with Gaius and Inigo. He said something about discipline?”

“Oh.” Robin averted her eyes, silently bidding farewell to her companions. At least they could have a burial at sea. She’d have to reorganize the army after their loss.

There was a shout further along the beach and Robin looked up to find her son shouting. “Mother!”

Barefoot, Morgan ran eagerly across the sand to her. He sank slightly in the sand with each movement. Clearly her child, he also had his cloak on. They’d both die of heatstroke.

Ignoring Chrom’s snickering, Robin leaned forward and smiled. “What’s the matter?”

“I found a tidal pool.” Morgan’s eyes lit up and Robin suddenly understood Chrom’s amusement at her reactions earlier. There was something endearing about watching another’s excitement. “It’s filled with all these little rocks and fish.”

“Oh?” She ruffled his hair affectionately. He even had a small satchel of his own, clacking with every movement he made, and Robin felt a surge of pride. Morgan was his mother’s son, in every way that mattered. “That sounds great. Good job finding it.”

Morgan beamed, his chest puffing at the compliment. “But that’s not the best part.”

“What is?” Robin cocked her head, curious. Just what could have sent her son running here? “Eels? Lobster?”

“Bigger!” Morgan pumped his fists. “There’s a shark in there.”

Now that caught Robin’s attention and she thrummed with excitement. “A shark?”

Behind her, Chrom yelped. “A shark!?”

“Yeah!” Morgan tugged her hand, leading her forward. “I thought you’d like to see.”

“I do!” Robin picked up the pace, almost dragging him forward now. “Where is it?”

Behind her, Chrom shouted, “DON’T PICK UP THE SHARK!”

[singular-yike]

Can't remember if I asked you to talk about your thoughts on Iyozane so if you haven't already please do so!

You've asked about my favourite facet of them, but we've gone into them in general no. So let's take a look at this "common sense-haver" (according to rei) and see what they're all about~

The Anachronistic Ambitious Person — Fujiwara no Iyozane

Quick Summary

Iyozane was the crown heir of Devanagara's Fujiwara dynasty, but due to a conspiracy devised by someone in the imperial court, they were kept under strict house arrest for most of their time there.

Taking pity on their life, Mitori conspired with Iyozane to get the latter killed by poison. They were given a state funeral in secret and put to rest.

However, as we clearly see, they were brought back to life under mysterious circumstances and became a boater ferrying people and mail across the Gloomy Straits.

Unfortunately, business has been severely declining since the capital launched two giant ferries going to and fro in the strait, and with the Gloomy Sea Bridge's construction, Iyozane being out of a job is more likely than ever.

One day, they were ferrying a fleeing Taira no Fumikado, where they were gifted the Saeda flute and actually managed to play it. Fumikado invited Iyozane to join the Youkai Alliance and assist in their plan to become the New Emperor, promising to make them kampaku (関白), chief advisor to the Emperor, once they succeed.

Historical Inspiration: Fujiwara no Sumitomo

Iyozane is pretty heavily based on the historical Fujiwara no Sumitomo (藤原 純友).

Sumitomo was born into one of the highest-ranking noble families at the time: Fujiwara Hokke (藤原北家 northern house of Fujiwara). However, his father died at a young age, dashing his prospects of ever landing a job as an official in the capital.

Instead, he was made to work under one of his uncles as a local official at the historical Iyo Province (伊予国), which you may note is where we get the "iyo" (伊代) in Iyozane (伊代真) from. It is these noble beginnings that likely inspired Iyozane's own beginnings as a Fujiwara royal in Len'en

There, he was tasked with suppressing the pirates of the Seto Inland Sea. (Which, while slightly off-topic, is what the Goomy Straits are based on)

After Sumitomo's first campaign against the pirates was over and he returned home, he was quickly commanded to go back out and do so again. 3 months after this second assignment, it was reported that he became the leader of the pirates instead. This is likely what Iyozane's previous dream of becoming a pirate is based on.

Having spread his authority over the entirety of the inland sea, Sumitomo lead his pirates in a revolt against the imperial court. This event occurred at the same time as Taira no Masakado's own revolt in the east, and the two revolts are often grouped together as the Jōhei-Tengyō Disturbances. This is referenced in Fujiwara's own change from servant (pawn) of the court to enemy of the court.

While Masakado's fame far outlasted that of Sumitomo's, they were very much considered equally dangerous forces back at the time, giving rise to phrases like "Masakado of the East, Sumitomo of the West" (東の将門、西の純友).

This common pairing of the two events, despite being unrelated to each other, is likely what lead to Iyozane and Fumikado joining up in Len'en.

Stepping a bit away from history, it was rumored that Masakado and Sumitomo did actually conspire their revolts, as youths planning together to take the capital. Swearing an oath to one another that if they succeeded, Masakado would become emperor while Sumitomo would become his kampaku, the very position Iyozane themself are aiming for.

Other Curiosities

While that concludes the main part of the analysis, there are a few other curious points about Iyozane as well, of which I'll list a few here:

Funnily enough, all the dishes Iyozane is good at making at are chilled dishes, perhaps because they're always surrounded by cold ghosties

Kurohebi's ability seems to not work on Iyozane for some reason, as Iyozane was able to notice Kurohebi tailing them while no one else in their team could

Iyozane being brought back to life seems to have altered their soul somehow, giving them a more "drinkable" soul, rather than an "edible" one, according to Shion.

Anywho, that's all I have today. We're almost certain to see more of Iyozane, so let's look forward to that~ :)

[intheshadowofwar]

22 July 2023

Journey to the Front

Gallipoli 22 June 2023

I won’t lie to you; today was incredibly hard. It’s one thing to travel between countries, quite another to do so when neurodiverse, and another indeed to do so alone for the first time. If I’m not particularly erudite today, please bear with me. I am both physically and mentally exhausted.

I awoke at 2.15am and was on the bus by 3.15 to get to Heathrow. We flew out on a Turkish Airlines A220 and landed somewhat bumpily at Istanbul just after 12.30 local time, We then met our tour bus – which oddly enough has better internet then our hotel – and drove to Gallipoli, stopping at a rest stop by the Sea of Mamara for a discussion of the submarine AE2 and, more importantly, a cheese toastie.

We arrived at Gallipoli at roughly 6pm – due to our late arrival, it was decided that we’d make the most of the remaining light and ascend Plugge’s Plateau before checking into the hotel.

Plugge’s Plateau, named for a New Zealand officer, is a position on the ‘first ridge’ – there are three key ridges inland from Anzac Cove. To get to the top requires a short but arduous trek through Shrapnel Gully and up the cliffs that overlook Anzac Cove, the landing place of the Australia and New Zealand Army Corps. My first impression from climbing the ridge was to think back to my first thought upon viewing the battlefield at Culloden years ago – that this was an astoundingly poor choice for a battlefield. To get off the beach, one must ascend this steep ridge, then descend it into the gullies and valleys beyond and climb the second ridge beyond. Once you’ve taken this position, you still need to capture the third ridge, a task that eluded the Allies (for British and Indian troops also fought here) throughout the campaign. From our final position, just a little inland from Plugge’s, we could see ‘Quinn’s Post,’ the ‘Sphinx’ and Lone Pine – I never really appreciated just how close to each other they were, yet just how difficult it would have been to travel between these positions and the beach – and between each other, for that matter.

The path also has a very good view of Anzac Cove facing northwards – one can see as far as Suvla Bay and the salt lake there. I must admit to a little pride in noticing Suvla before I was explicitly told what it was – all that map reading wasn’t in vain, it seems. I think it’s still in the air as to whether or not we shall visit Suvla, but I certainly hope we do – it is one of the most interesting and misunderstood aspects of the campaign.

As a rare example of a mostly intact battlefield (the only others I can think of off the top of my head are Culloden and possibly Waterloo), we will be remaining in Gallipoli for five nights for a fairly in-depth tour. But if I’m going to have the energy to take part in said tours, I had better sleep, so I shall see you all for some more in-depth discussion tomorrow.

[akpaley]

Overwhelm.

[tomepact]

so laid out by court, here are the Major Players of the feywild from my campaign setting

THE SEELIE COURT ROYALS:

The Lady of Summer, the Gleaming Queen Titania

The Green Lord of the Hunt Oberon

Verenestra, the Oaken Princess

Hyrsam, the Prince of Fools

TITANIA'S ENTOURAGE:

Poludnica, the Lady Midday

Star Delightful, the Unicorn Handmaiden

Ser Ulstan

The Prince of Hearts

Ivellios, the Royal Enchanter

THE UNSEELIE COURT ROYALS:

The Queen of Air and Darkness

The Harbinger of Winter

The Three Brothers: The Collector, The Inspector and the Caretaker

Grandmother Baba Yaga

THE UNSEELIE ENTOURAGE:

The Prince of Frost

Lord Kannoth, the Nightsworn

The Maiden of the Moon

Emmantien, the Elder Treant

Eshebala, the Foxborn Spy

Alfhilde and Ragna (Winter Eladrin + Displacer Beast)

UNAFFILIATED FEY:

Razcoreth, the Whispering Wyrm

Viktor Mazan of the Brokenstone Vale

Lord Elias of the Inland Sea & Lady Siobahn of the Depths

Yvaldin, the Many Masked One

[in-inertia]

Gladiia: Reflect on the battle ahead.

Why do we fight?

[ Part 1 of 4 ]

[ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ] [ Part 4 ]

For seventeen years, Gladiia believed she knew the answer. The Abyssal Hunters fought for the preservation of everything they loved—for Ægir, and for life itself. They threw themselves into a battle they knew they would not survive, all for the hope that Ægir would live to see the sunrise upon the horizon. They fought for something greater than themselves. 

But life on land had given them new perspectives. The Hunters found themselves surrounded by primitive peoples, living drab lives without culture or any true understanding of just what lay beneath the ocean surface. Yet Skadi and Laurentina each found something about this land that they learned to love. Before Gladiia realized, they'd already stopped thinking of Ægir as their only home. Even Laurentina, homesick as she was, came to love life above the waves. There was a beauty to the simplicity here, a crude beauty that Ægir would have never let persist in its continual dominance over nature. 

Gladiia could never do the same. Ægir was the only home she'd ever known. She couldn't turn her back on life in Ægir—not after everything she'd done for the sake of the nation. A bloody campaign that claimed countless lives laid behind her. To abandon her mission would be tantamount to betrayal to those who died. Even if Ægir had discarded her, she would continue to serve it until her last breath. Otherwise, she could never face the memory of those who never had the chance.

Yet… 

Ulpianus' words never left her mind. Ægir had become something unknown to her. Ulpianus had always been critical of Ægir's shortcomings, as had she—but like her, he remained its steadfast protector. He knew the fate of the Abyssal Hunters long before anyone else did, yet kept his Hunters in the dark so that they, too, would remain faithful defenders of their nation. He wouldn't abandon Ægir so casually. 

He said that Ægir chose the path to their own destruction. 

Over the last year, Gladiia had been pushing back against a realization forming in her mind. She denied it as fervently as she could. She buried herself in her duty, growing more and more reactionary in her thoughts and expressions. In reaction to the doubt growing inside of her, she became a voice of unyielding allegiance. 

She no longer believed in Ægir. Perhaps she never truly did. Ægir was the nation that hated her, from the moment she was born. She was a mistake, an aberration marring its perfect leadership. An unwanted child who deposed her mother and took her place as Consul, who was cast into the Abyss for daring to try and stand on her own. Ægir never wanted her, and it threw her away the moment it became convenient to. 

But the land could never be her home. Unlike Skadi and Laurentina, she could never find joy and companionship among the land-dwellers. Only her own could fill that void in her life. Even if Ægir did not want her, she needed Ægir. Without it, without her company, without her battalion, she was nothing. 

It took over a year for her to begin to doubt that, too. She came around more slowly than her compatriots, but even now, she couldn't deny that she'd grown closer to a few of the land-dwellers. At first, she held that Kal'tsit was unique. While that may be true, as it would turn out, in the ways that mattered, Kal'tsit was entirely typical. Hinata. Irene. Tulip. Jordi. Blue Poison. Lanota. Utage. Hellagur. Hoshiguma. They were not of her kind—but her connections to each of them, whether superficial or very personal, slowly eroded that ever-present idea that she could only ever be happy surrounded by her own. 

She spent so long away from the sea that she almost forgot what that battle was like. The inland sea held her dehydration at bay. It wasn't the ocean she knew—but it was a comfort all the same. In her service to Kal'tsit, acting as her right hand, she traveled across the land. The primitive splendors she saw, the dances she learned, the music she cherished, it all ate away at the idea that she could never belong anywhere but Ægir. It took a while for her to realize the damage done. 

There was no hope for these people to ever stand against the Sea. She began to understand what Laurentina saw in them—but at the same time, she became clearly aware of their fragility. If even Ægir could no longer be the bastion the world needed against the Seaborn, they hadn't a ghost of a chance. In turn, as she glimpsed the truth of their vulnerability, she began to realize her own. 

If Ægir was lost, the fight was lost. 

The backwards land-dwellers, in their hovels they call kingdoms, had nary a clue what they faced. Not even Iberia knew. Even the smallest fraction of Seaborn might reduced Iberia to ruins. It never recovered from the Profound Silence—and it never would. The Inquisition could not even keep their own nation from cannibalizing itself. It was unable to even root out the Church of the Deep—no, rather, the Inquisition's draconian and discriminatory policies provided the perfect spawning grounds for the Church's virulent ideology. The Ægir descendants who remained in Iberia found more kinship in the Seaborn than they did the native Liberi, who hated and feared them.

If there was no hope for victory, then why fight in the first place? 

Did it truly honor the fallen to lead what remained of their compatriots towards meaningless deaths? If the Seaborn were a truly insurmountable threat, then how could she justify tearing them away from the new home they've learned to love? Was she being cruel, pulling them without end towards their inevitable demise? Would it not be kinder to let them rest, and enjoy the time they still have left? 

…Would it not be kinder to allow herself some peace in the last moments of her life? Would it not be more gentle to be with them, if her presence was some comfort? Even if she was haunted by shame at every moment, she was willing to endure anything for the sake of her Hunters. She would even endure becoming a traitor to her cause, and the memories of the deceased. 

For the first time in her life since she was a child, Gladiia wanted to run. 

[jstarwriter85]

Fictober22 - Day 6: “Adaptable, I Like That.”

Category: Original Fiction Author’s Note: This is a small character piece for an upcoming D&D homebrew campaign that a friend of mine is building. Throughout Fictober, I’ll be using the prompts to tell different pieces of his story. But, fair warning—they’re not going to be in any kind of story/chronological order.

“Adaptable, I like that.”

Calex sat on the edge of the water, using thin but sturdy vines to wrap logs together, forming a makeshift raft.

“Well, I guess one of us has to be, and it’s clearly not you.” He said, grinning.

The sour look on Mateelo’s face told Calex he clearly wasn’t amused by the jab.

“All I’m saying is that if I was a gnome that didn’t know how to swim, I’d want to have a working knowledge of alternatives for crossing water.” Calex continued. “Can’t avoid the water forever.”

Mateelo waved his hands frantically as if shooing the water away. “I will do my best. I don’t like the water. Too much under the surface waiting to snatch you down and make you a meal.”

“Oh, its not that bad. I’ve never been eaten, and the ocean is my home.”

“Speaking of…” Mateelo countered, “What brought you out in search of your sister? Didn’t she go missing when you were only children?”

Calex’s grin faded from his face, and he was hit with a fresh wave of grief and guilt. “Yes, but I’m the only one in my family and community that doesn’t believe she’s dead. I’m determined to find her. If she is dead, I want to know who’s responsible.”

“That’s quite the undertaking, my young sea-elf friend. After all this time, I can’t imagine there’s much of a trail. Aren’t you running into all of this a little blind?”

Calex shrugged. “Mostly, yeah. But I’ve been hitting as many villages and big cities as I can traveling inland. Not many sea elves from my community come inland. If anyone had seen one, that’d at least give me a place to start.”

Calex finished weaving the last of the vines onto the makeshift raft. “Ready to face the water, Mateelo?”

Mateelo’s face soured even more. “No, but let’s get it over with.”

[darkmaga-retard]

Coked up in the 17th century.

John Ellis

Sep 12, 2024

1. Seal Team 6, the clandestine US Navy commando unit that killed Osama bin Laden in 2011, has been training for missions to help Taiwan if it is invaded by China, according to people familiar with the preparations. The elite Navy special forces team, which is tasked with some of the military’s most sensitive and difficult missions, has been planning and training for a Taiwan conflict for more than a year at Dam Neck, its headquarters at Virginia Beach about 250 km southeast of Washington. The secret training underlines the increased US focus on deterring China from attacking Taiwan, while stepping up preparations for such an event. The preparations have only grown since Phil Davidson, the US Indo-Pacific commander at the time, warned in 2021 that China could attack Taiwan within six years. (Sources: groveatlantic.com, ft.com)

2. The U.S. and Chinese militaries are taking tentative steps to re-engage diplomatically after a two-year freeze in relations, seeking to dial back the risk of confrontation while tensions simmer over Beijing’s activities in the South China Sea and its support of Russia. Jump-starting talks between military leaders has been a priority of the Biden administration, but one that has previously faced stiff resistance in Beijing. In the past few weeks, U.S. officials have netted long-sought meetings with senior Chinese military officials including Gen. Wu Yanan, whose command includes operations in the South China Sea. Wu is also expected to participate in a military conference in Hawaii this month, a senior U.S. defense official said Thursday. (Source: wsj.com)

3. The U.S. is gradually moving aircraft and commandos into coastal West Africa in an urgent effort to try to stop the march of al Qaeda and Islamic State militants across one of the world’s most volatile regions. American forces were evicted this summer from their regional stronghold in Niger, farther inland, and now the Pentagon is patching together a backup counterinsurgency plan in neighboring countries—refurbishing an airfield in Benin to accommodate American helicopters, stationing Green Berets and surveillance planes in Ivory Coast, and negotiating the return of U.S. commandos to a base they used to occupy in Chad. “Losing Niger means that we’ve lost our ability to directly influence counterterrorism and counterinsurgency in the Sahel,” said retired Maj. Gen. Mark Hicks, former commander of U.S. special-operations forces in Africa, referring to the vast, semidesert band just south of the Sahara. Islamist militants are wreaking havoc across the core of the Sahel—Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger—attacking police and military, stirring local grievances, imposing their harsh version of Islam in occupied villages and causing some 38,000 deaths since 2017, according to the Pentagon’s Africa Center for Strategic Studies. (Source: wsj.com)

4. An Islamist party that made opposition to the Israeli invasion of Gaza the centerpiece of its campaign scored a significant success in elections in Jordan, results released in the kingdom on Wednesday showed, giving the Muslim Brotherhood a bigger foothold in Jordan’s Parliament. The Islamic Action Front, the political arm of the Muslim Brotherhood, which has been banned in several countries in the Arab world, will now control a sizable bloc in Parliament, according to results announced by the electoral commission. It won 31 of the 138 seats. But the government will likely retain a substantial majority, given that two parties allied to it secured around 70 seats combined. (Source: nytimes.com)

5. Founded in a Venezuelan prison where it ran a zoo, swimming pool, disco, restaurant and bar, the Tren de Aragua has grown into a fearsome transnational criminal force in less than a decade—“MS-13 on steroids,” as one federal official put it, referring to the Central American gang that is entrenched in many U.S. communities. The specter of crime caused by immigrants has become a major theme in the presidential campaign, with former President Donald Trump calling out “migrant crime” repeatedly. Federal crime data show homicides and other crimes have dropped—and that the U.S. is far safer than it used to be. The gang isn’t a household name, but its activities are a source of fascination on social media. “I think the Tren de Aragua in the U.S. could help elect Trump,” said Michael Shifter, a senior fellow at the Inter-American Dialogue think tank in Washington. (Source: wsj.com)