#Western Dune Sea

[sw5w]

The Crowd Roars

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:58:14

The podrace spectator in the bottom right corner here was featured in a close up on the 10/23/00 edition of Episode I Snapshot.

[hunnylagoon]

Wayfaring Stranger

PREMISE: After your husband refuses to check a concerning sound outside, you do it yourself only to find a beautiful stranger bloodied up on the beaten road beneath moonlight. The events that follow soon after turn your once quiet world on its head.

DISCONTINUED

WARNING: Murder, mentions of violence and injuries

The night hung heavy over the isolated homestead, a sea of inky darkness punctuated only by the sparse glow of stars scattered across the expansive canvas of the western sky. You, wrapped in a weathered shawl, stepped cautiously onto the creaking wood floorboards leading to your bedroom window. The pristine planks groaned under the subtle weight of your movement, echoing through the stillness of the night. "Sawyer, did you hear that?" You ask, turning your head to look at your husband who lay with his back to you, His blonde curls falling upon the satin pillowcases. "Sawyer!" You hiss, trying to capture his attention.

"It's just some cattle," He dismissed, not bothering to look at you; in fact, he pulled the covers even farther up his figure to conceal himself from you.

"Can you go look?"

"Why would I do that?" He groaned, it was a genuine question. He couldn't figure out why you would want to investigate a concerning sound.

"Because it sounded like gunshots and screaming, someone could be hurt!"

"All the more reason to stay inside."

"Well, I'm going to go see what it is if you refuse to." You spat, grabbing the oil lamp from the bedside stand and using your shawl to clear it of debris. You swipe a match across its box, watching it ignite, small sparks dancing around your fingertips. You move the match to light the exposed part of the wick before blowing it out and discarding it on the spruce floors.

"Okay, don't get hurt," He said flat, nuzzling back into the feather pillows.

A solitary oil lamp, its flame shifting with every step, cast feeble shadows that clung to the edges of the wall like silent sentinels. Under the flickering light, you made your way down the stairs and slipped on a pair of worn leather boots, dusty from the day's toil. As your boots met the uneven wooden surface of the porch, you shivered, you hadn't anticipated just how cold it would be.

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of sagebrush and the distant whispers of the unseen nocturnal creatures that inhabited the wilderness. A coyote's distant howl painted the night with an eerie soundtrack, a reminder that the untamed landscape surrounding your home was both beautiful and treacherous.

As you descended the porch steps, your eyes, accustomed to the darkness, scanned the horizon. The landscape unfolded before you in nothing but shadows and silhouettes, the distant outlines of distant hills and mesas barely visible beneath the cosmic tableau above. The isolation of your homestead, far removed from the flickering lights of the town, cocooned you in an otherworldly silence, a solitude that carried the weight of the untamed frontier.

You looked back towards your home as you moved down the dirt road; weathered limestone walls, adorned with ornate ironwork, bore witness to years of harsh sun, and dust storms, though the relentless passage of time wasn't easy to spot as Sawyer had constant maintenance on it. Standing proudly against the dark backdrop of endless prairie, the mansion's presence was a testament to opulence in the rugged west. The home sat on the top of a hill, the trip down being somewhat steep, though the main path was easy to trek, other ways down would send you tumbling.

A soft breeze rustled through the grass dunes, creating a gentle whistle that you liked to believe carried every secret ever whispered in the town.

With a deep breath, you ventured beyond the perimeter of the homestead, your silhouette becoming one with the night. The crunch of your footsteps on the gravel path echoed faintly, a lullaby for the wilderness that watched over you. You move with hesitation, trying to consider that your husband may be right and you should've ignored the clash and tucked yourself back into the king-sized bed, despite this, you keep moving, leaving only the echoes of your presence behind.

You were surrounded by almost nothing but darkness, you could only see the shapes of rocks and cacti reflecting the moonlight along with whatever was immediately around you, thanks to the shine of the oil lamp.

Writhing in the rocky dirt path you saw a figure. It hadn't been an animal or an article of clothing that somehow found its way to you, it had been the slender silhouette of a person, just as you suspected, someone was hurt. As you carefully approached you could hear their shaky breathes that made you sure it was a woman. Her chest rose and sunk as she shuddered in the cold air; she was soaked through with blood, you had never seen someone in worse shape. "Ma'am?" You ask, your heartbeat speeding up. She looked visibly startled, trying to grip the ground and crawl away from you out of fear. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, I can help you." Your eyebrows furrowed in skepticism at the sight before you.

"No," She shook her head, the woman could hardly get words out of her mouth, just ragged breaths.

"You're shivering," You slowly crouched down, gingerly sitting her up, she winced in pain when you did so "I'm sorry," You hooked an arm around her waist while she slid an arm behind your shoulders, she used her other arm to clutch at a wound in her stomach, you ignored your shaking at her additional weight leaning against your own, you just had to get her up the hill. "SAWYER!" You shouted as loud as your lungs allowed you "SAWYER!" You screamed again, waiting for your husband to be standing on the porch.

You hauled the woman to your porch just as Sawyer finally emerged "What do you- WHAT IS HAPPENING!" His annoyance quickly turned to panic when he saw who was clinging onto you, behind him the door was hanging open letting the light from the foyer break apart some of the darkness. In the light other than the moon you finally got a better look at her. You couldn't even tell what colour her hair was beneath the blood matting it to her head, streaks of red ran down her freckled face and soaked almost every inch of clothing she adorned.

"Ride into town, get the doctor and bring him back here." You ordered, pushing past him, into the living room where you laid her gingerly onto the white gold crested sofa, feeling relief of the added weight gone.

"Well, there goes my coach-

"Sawyer!" You yell again, urging him to leave, he finally does, slamming the door behind him. You run around, hastily lighting candles to brighten the room; you bring a bucket of clean water to her side, drenching a rag in the water, you bring it to her face and begin to wipe away the blood. You noticed her shudder at the touch of cold water on her raw flesh "It's okay," You muttered, in an attempt to comfort her. You weren't quite sure what to say, she must've been terrified but it's not like you were feeling okay with the whole situation, you just didn't want to worsen anything.

More than anything, you wanted to know what had happened to this woman. Of course, you weren't going to ask at that moment, you didn't have to ask though, it's like she read your mind.

"I'm, Ellie," She said between ragged heaves. Just when you were beginning to make up your own backstory for the wayfaring stranger. The picture you had formed in your mind was that her name was Maybelle and she had taken a loan from a gang, and gotten herself into some serious trouble. Nope. Her name was Ellie and what was most logical was that she had been robbed by bandits.

You smile softly, trying to put her at ease. You thought back to all of the ways your mother used to calm you and your little sister "Well, Ellie, doctors gonna be here any minute and you'll be stitched up, good."

Ellie could've sworn that she made you up inside her head. She had heard stories of people on the brink of death imagining an angel guiding them to security just to be told when they recovered that person never existed. She was sure that she would get some rest and would wake up in some clinic with you nowhere to be found. You looked like an angel too, features illuminated in the soft candlelight. "Are you real?"

Her words had you thinking she was ebbing closer to the brink of death, blood loss making her woozy. "I sure am," You said, indulging her "I can tell from your accent that you're from as far west as west goes."

"That you would be right about, ma'am," She smiled with half-lidded eyes, her head lulling back and forth from the spot it rested on the sofa arm.

You soaked the cloth again, wringing it out in the bucket, the once clear water already becoming a foggy reddish hue. You used your free hand to push hair away from Ellie's face, with your other hand you held the cloth and gently wiped the blood from her forehead, clearing the way for you to see more of her freckles. "There we go," You moved your free hand to the back of her head to support it, now using the rag to wash away at the grime on her cheeks and button nose. "I can finally see that pretty face."

"pretty," She murmured, eyelids fluttering.

In the dimly lit room, shadows danced across the walls like ghostly spectres, and the air hung heavy with the metallic scent of blood. The wounded figure lay sprawled on the once pristine white sofa, the echo of a recent struggle still reverberating through the stillness. Moonlight filtered through tattered curtains, casting an eerie glow on the scene of desperation.

A crimson pool formed beneath Ellie, soaking into Sawyer's beloved couch. The rhythmic breathing echoed in the silence, a macabre lullaby that seemed to accompany the fading pulse of life. Ellie against the encroaching darkness, the battle for consciousness etched across a face pale and drawn.

Every breath was a laborious effort, a struggle against the body's betrayal. Her once vibrant eyes, now dull and distant, glistened with a mixture of pain and determination. Beads of sweat clung to a furrowed brow, evidence of the fevered fight within.

Trembling hands clutched at the wound, desperate to stem the relentless flow of a life's essence escaping through her fingers. Each heartbeat sent fresh waves of pain through the body, threatening to pull the fragile thread of consciousness even thinner. The air seemed to thicken with the weight of mortality, and every passing moment whispered of the inevitability of the abyss.

Amid this struggle, fragmented memories flickered like distant stars in a fading night sky. Faces and places, fragments of life now hanging in the balance, flashed before weary eyes. The pulse, once strong and steady, faltered like a distant drumbeat threatening to fade into silence.

Yet, amidst the darkness, a fierce will to survive burned like a defiant flame. The wounded soul summoned reserves of strength, drawing upon reserves untapped in ordinary times. Each laboured breath was a testament to an indomitable spirit, a refusal to yield to the encroaching void.

The room itself seemed to pulse with a quiet urgency, bearing witness to a solitary struggle against the inevitable. Shadows clung to the edges of consciousness, threatening to pull the wounded figure into an abyss from which there might be no return. She saw your lips moving but the words fell upon death ears, she couldn't make out whatever you were frantically telling her, all she knew was that she was tired and she couldn't fight to stay awake much longer.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Though Ellie had believed you to be an angel, you proved yourself to be real.

As the first rays of the Southern sun began to pierce through ornate curtains, casting a warm golden glow upon the opulent bedroom, she stirred beneath the layers of soft, embroidered linens. The mattress cradled her like a sanctuary, and the pillows plumped to perfection, offered a haven for dreams. The room itself exuded a rustic elegance, with intricately carved wooden furniture standing proudly against the walls adorned with rich tapestries. The air carried the subtle scent of cedar, a nod to the untamed wilderness just beyond the ornate windows. Lace curtains danced in the morning breeze, revealing a breathtaking view of the rolling hills and vast plains. The room, a luxurious oasis in the heart of the frontier, embraced her in a cocoon of comfort, providing a stark contrast to the rugged landscape outside. As she slowly opened her eyes, the lavish details of the room unfolded like a dream, and for a moment, she forgot about the events of the night before, until the throbbing pain of stitched wounds hit her once more.

Ellie was no longer in the drenched clothes from the previous night and was no longer nose-blinded by the sickly sweet stench of blood. Though she didn't remember everything from the night before, she remembered you

What had woken her up was the incredible smell filling whatever room she was in. Cast-iron fried bacon, its savoury perfume mingling with the tantalizing scent of freshly steeped tea that wafted through the air. The aroma of flapjacks, golden and perfectly griddled, hung thick, inviting all who caught wind of it to indulge in a culinary celebration of the morning.

A bounty of farm-fresh eggs scrambled to perfection, adorned the table alongside a bowl of vibrant, sun-ripened tomatoes and sliced avocados, their colours mirroring the vivid hues of the sunrise. A basket brimming with flaky biscuits, warm and buttery, beckoned with promises of melt-in-your-mouth goodness.

In the center of it all, a heaping pile of wild berries and succulent peaches offered a burst of sweetness, a reminder of nature's abundance even in the rugged expanse of the frontier. A jar of homemade preserves, bursting with the flavours of sun-ripened fruits, awaited its turn to grace the breakfast spread. All of it meticulously placed on the breakfast tray beside her.

She had never been blessed enough to get such a thoughtful breakfast, or meal, or anything for that matter. Ellie had grown up around ruffians who showed love through gunpowder and chewing tobacco.

Every bite tasted just as good as she had anticipated, most people wouldn't have thought it smart to eat a meal in a stranger's home that magically appeared to wake her up and maybe Ellie wasn't smart but she sure was hungry.

In the corridors, you hummed along to a song you used to sing on the piano when you were a girl while you rearranged and tidied bits and pieces of your shared home so everything was in its place. Your ears pricked up at the sound of rustling, it could have only been one thing. You knocked on the door of one of your guest rooms.

"Yeah?" She said through a mouthful of food.

You pushed the spruce door open, closing it behind you "Good mornin'," You smiled "Or afternoon, I suppose. Feelin' any better?"

She felt embarrassment well up in her throat, there you were looking so effortlessly stunning and she was a half-baked mess laying in one of your beds, swallowing back the food you slaved away to prepare. "Ma'am, I am so very sorry for imposin' on ya' last night, I will be out of your hair in no time."

"Stay as long as ya' need," You dismissed her "Truth be told, it gets a little lonely in this house, Sawyer goes away all day and when he's home he's too tired to speak, so it's just me."

She furrowed her eyebrows "You own a house this big and you haven't got a maid or servant or something?"

You shook your head "We used to have one but Sawyer fired her, said I needed some chores to keep me busy. We do have a stable boy, name's Jerry, nice kid just can't speak English all that well. He comes by a couple of days a week and has tea with me during his breaks. I won't keep ya' here if you don't want to though."

"I'd just feel too guilty eatin' your food and givin' you nothing," Didn’t seem guilty one minute ago. She moved the tray of food from its spot on her lap to the empty bedside table. She began to push the covers off of her, trying her best to ignore the ache in her bones. When her feet hit the ground she felt extreme agony course through her body like a million little knives swimming through her bloodstream. She crumbled over into herself on the ground.

You rushed over to help her back up "Easy," You say, your tone soft "You're hurt, remember?"

Ellie couldn't even stand on her own at that moment, her legs shook with each step she tried to take, you leading her gingerly. "Can't feel a thing," She lied through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure?"

"Nope, I need to sit back down," She said and you helped her to sit on the side of the cushioned bed. She couldn't remember feeling that weak for a very long time, not since she had been a child. Ellie almost wanted to laugh at how stupid she felt, needing you to help her take a few steps like she was elderly, instead, she looked up at you "How did I get so lucky as to have you take care of me?"

"Sometimes we just meet someone at the right time." You shrug. You were no longer able to bite back the question that had kept you up all night "If I may ask, what happened to you last night?"

She sighed, scootching herself back in the bed to get comfortable "I'm nothing more than a travelling merchant ya' see, last night while I was headed out of Palecliff, I was raided by a group of bandits, took my horse, my wagon, everything I've ever known gone in one night along with my dignity."

Your eyes went wide and you clasped a hand over your mouth "What did they look like?"

You had a million questions for her and you didn't waste time in showering her with them. It had been so long since you had someone to talk to, not your stoic husband, not a fourteen-year-old who didn't understand your language, but a woman your age who indulged your questions and laughed at your jokes, adding her witty remarks to them. When you married Sawyer it was like you were thrown into the life of someone you did not know, it went from sixteen-year-old you playing piano every night, serving food, chatting up locals to being isolated in a stark mansion on top of a hill, watching the ghost of what your life used to be from what felt like a cage. You were allowed to enter town once a month, beyond that you would sneak off to the creek and the far-off forest where there was no one to report to your husband, his father was the mayor so out of fear they would never keep their mouths shut.

It only made you ecstatic when Ellie had agreed to stay with the promise of doing house and stable work when she recovered to pay you back in whatever ways she could.

Mornings with Ellie began with the aroma of herbal tea and the comforting crackle of a wood-burning stove. You, now a dedicated caregiver, tended to the injured woman's wounds with gentle hands, your touch a balm for both body and soul.

Conversations flowed like the pages of a well-worn novel, each chapter revealing the layers of their respective histories. Shared laughter echoed through the homestead, a melody that resonated against the backdrop of the vast wild wind. In the quiet moments, as the injured woman gazed out of the window, she found peace in the sight of the rolling hills and endless skies.

Through the nuances of daily life—shared meals whispered confidences, and the unspoken understanding that transcended words—the two women became intertwined, bound to one another almost.

Sawyer wasn't fond of how his wife had come to spend her time. Something about the sound of her laughter echoing through the halls had angered him, knowing that he wasn't the one who made her laugh.

Sawyer, a figure of striking contradiction to his gentle and nurturing wife, cut a commanding presence beneath the harsh sunlight. His tousled locks, framed a face chiselled with the unforgiving lines of both nature and a life forged on the frontier. A mane of wheat-gold hair fell over piercing blue eyes, cold and calculating like the steel of a Colt revolver. His tall, lean form moved with the languid grace of a predator, exuding an effortless confidence that bordered on arrogance. Dressed in the finest of suits, Sawyer's appearance belied an innate cruelty that simmered beneath the surface. A well-defined jawline, framed by the hint of stubble, spoke of a man who had faced the harsh realities of the untamed West, and yet, it was the glint in his eyes that hinted at the darkness that mirrored the vast, shadowed canyons of the frontier. In the presence of Sawyer, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension, a reminder that you belonged to him and him alone.

When Ellie had healed enough to hobble around the house and assist you with chores as well as join you and Sawyer at the dinner table, he had made sure to be vocal. "Ellie, I think you could ease up on the help a little as much as we appreciate it," He said across a table of food you spent hours preparing "I don't want my wife to forget to be grateful for the life that's been handed to her if she relaxes too much she just slips away into some progressive madness."

You look towards him, a subtle rage simmering inside of you "Sawyer, I'm not being ungrateful, I'm just tired from-

He raised a hand to stop your talking "I don't think we want those womanly emotions to get in the way, do we?"

You pushed yourself away from the table, slamming your serviette down and storming out.

Sawyer only chuckles at this, turning to look at Ellie who had found herself constantly having to bite her tongue around him "Just wait until she has children, she'll cry every day and make up even more things to complain about." Before Ellie, he had never felt such a sense of possession over you, typically he just treated you like an ornament.

All good things must come to an end and so they did; Ellie had healed almost completely after two months, the Southern winter had passed and spring was arriving. You both lied to yourself, pretending that it was still sensible for Ellie to be living in your house. You convinced her to let you take her to your favourite spot.

In the early embrace of spring, a hidden gem sat in the heart of nature—a beautiful creek that meandered through the landscape like a serpentine ribbon of liquid silver. The air, still sharp with the vestiges of winter, carried the invigorating scent of damp earth and awakening foliage. Along the banks, delicate shoots of vibrant green grass peeked through the remnants of melting snow, heralding the arrival of a season draped in renewal.

The creek itself murmured a gentle melody, a harmonious symphony composed by the bubbling riffles and the soft percussion of water cascading over smooth stones. The water, crystal clear and pure, reflected the azure canvas of the early spring sky, creating a mirror that captured the fleeting beauty of budding trees and the emerging wildflowers that lined the water's edge.

Beneath the surface, the creek harboured secrets—shimmering pebbles, polished by the tender caress of the water's passage, and tiny aquatic organisms that stirred with the promise of life. The sunlight filtered through the burgeoning leaves above, casting dappled patterns on the creek's surface like nature's stained glass adorning a cathedral of serenity.

On the banks, clusters of delicate wildflowers began to unfurl their petals, their hues ranging from the soft pastels of violets and blues to vivid bursts of yellow and pink, something you didn’t see much in the South. The air resonated with the hum of awakening insects, drawn by the allure of this watercourse oasis. Overhead, the first tentative flights of butterflies painted the air with ephemeral strokes of colour.

As the creek wound its way through the landscape, it carved miniature canyons and pools, inviting creatures to quench their thirst and revel in the burgeoning abundance of the season. The stones lining the creek bed, smoothed by centuries of flowing water, became stepping stones for adventurous critters and skipping stones for the whimsical heart.

The beauty of the early spring creek lay not just in its visual splendour, the soothing melody of flowing water, the caress of a gentle breeze, the fragrance of blossoming life, and the dance of sunlight playing upon its liquid surface. This pristine sanctuary embodied the very essence of renewal, inviting all who encountered it to immerse themselves in the sublime poetry of the changing seasons.

The pair of you just sat in silence, neither wanted to say what had to be said so you decided to drown beneath the weight of the words that went unsaid.

"I can't stay here anymore," Ellie said, her voice hardly above a whisper. She sat on the lush grass with her knees pulled into her chest. Her chestnut hair, the colour of fresh earth, cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, occasionally stirred by the whispering winds that danced across the plains. Almond-shaped hazel eyes, reminiscent of the vast prairie skies, held a depth that spoke of an untamed spirit. Ellie's sun-kissed complexion bore the subtle traces of a life lived under the relentless Western sun, and a scattering of freckles across her cheeks hinted at days spent amidst the open range. Clad in practical yet well-worn attire she had borrowed from you, her hands, calloused from the rigours of the mysterious life she lived before meeting you, spoke of a resilience that mirrored the vast landscapes she navigated. In the unforgiving wilderness, where strength and grace were as vital as the air one breathed.

"I know," You said back just as quietly, you both looked at the creek ahead of you, not able to meet each other's eyes.

"I don't want to leave you."

"I can't leave." You said, a newfound sense of sadness washing over you. It had just hit that you would return to the dull life you lived before her, days filled with nothing more than silence, loneliness, and regret.

"I wish you could," She picked at the grass, unsure of what to do with her hands.

Silence stretched between you like birds on a wire "Just stay, one more night and then I'll let you go for good, I won't pester you anymore."

She smiled softly "Sure, I'll stay another night."

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

You had left town at the crack of dawn that morning to gather supplies for Ellie before she left, and the night before you had babbled on and on to Sawyer about how excited you were for your plans before you turned in for the night. You had used the only day that month that you were permitted to leave to do something special for Ellie. After paying a brief visit to your father and sister you began the trek back up.

After you returned home from the short trip you had intended to go into the house and bundle up your goodies for Ellie but you had been detoured by a sound from the stable. You hadn't expected Jerry to be there, it was one of your days to man the stables, not his. Despite the confusion, you followed the crashes and bangs from the stables.

As you approached the stables, the familiar sounds of horses' hooves and distant howls of coyotes were overshadowed by an unfamiliar murmur and groan. A knot tightened in your stomach, foreboding lingering in the air like an impending storm. Pushing open the creaking door, your gaze fell upon a sight that froze her to the core.

In the muted light of the stable lanterns, you saw your husband, a man you slept beside every. night, entwined with another woman. The hay-strewn floor became an unwitting witness to the betrayal unfolding before your disbelieving eyes. The flickering lantern light cast shadows on their entangled forms, revealing a scene that would forever alter the course of your existence.

The air hung heavy with tension, the silence punctuated only by the stifled gasp that escaped your lips. The two figures, caught in an embrace that spoke of deceit, turned to face her with eyes filled with shock. The other woman, a fleeting presence in your life until this moment, bore the weight of her transgressions. Horror pushed tears from your eyes "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" You screamed, watching as the two shamefully and frantically dressed themselves.

"Can you blame me?" Sawyer buttoned up his trousers "You're always sad or angry around me, I love you, I just need a break sometimes-

"You make me feel that way!" You felt sick to your stomach like you were going to vomit "I have turned myself inside out trying to love you but I don't even like you!"

You could see your words hit him when his jaw began to tense up, the familiar tell that he would be raging soon "I don't even think you like me!"

"I don't!" You shout "I hate you I wake up every morning and I feel so empty when I have to look into those dull eyes of yours!"

"You won't even touch me."

"You only show me a sliver of kindness when you want your dick taken care of." You spat, the look of complete rage on his face made you smile; that was when he struck you. His backhand landed firmly on the side of your face, forcing you to stumble back, shuddering at the stinging sensation.

He put his hands up, trying to show you that he wouldn't hit you again "I'm sorry-

Before you could finish your sentence you were screaming, grabbing the shovel from its resting place on the stable wall and slamming it across his head. Sawyer didn't even stand for a moment, the second the shovel made contact with his head, he flopped to the ground. You audibly squeaked, watching blood ooze from the newly formed gash in his head.

"Sawyer?" You crouched down, poking at his limp body with the shovel to see if he would shift. Nothing. His eyes fell lifeless along with the rest of him. The shovel clattered to the ground as you brought both hands to cover your mouth.

You stood over his body, your actions registering in your head, you had killed him. You had taken the life of someone.

You were only snapped away from your thoughts when you heard a thud. Your head snapped to where the sound had come from, only to find the black-haired woman he was cheating on you with stumbling back up from her fall, she cast a look back at you, terror written across her pale face.

Feet moving faster than your mind, you ran after her, she had already got a good headstart on you. She was beginning to rush towards one of the steeper sides of the hill, you knew you wouldn't catch her in time; so instead of pursuing her, you grabbed the gun off the front porch and aimed it at the woman.

The metallic tang of gun oil hung in the air as you cradled the shotgun, the weight unfamiliar in your hands, you were only going off of what your father had shown you all those years ago. The overwhelming sun cast long shadows across the open range, painting the world in hues of amber and gold. With trepidation etched on her face, you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath. The gun felt cool against your trembling fingertips as she aimed at a distant woman. The tension in the air was palpable as you squeezed the trigger, the gunshot echoing through the vast expanse. The recoil startled you, and a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty danced in your eyes. At that moment, as the echoes of the shot reverberated through the silence of the frontier, you felt a seismic shift watching the raven-haired woman fall, now rolling down the hill.

Still gripping the shotgun, you ran over to the spot where you had seen the woman collapse.

When you bore down the hill, her body was nowhere to be found.

Your head shot up to search the plains for her but you didn't see a sign of where she had gone, aside from the small pool of blood, seeping into dead grass where she had initially fallen.

"What's wrong?" Ellie shouted, running over to where you stood, frozen in fear for what lay ahead of you "I heard a gunshot."

"Ellie I-" You were stiff where you stood, grasping the shotgun so tight that your knuckles had turned white "Sawyer was cheating on me in the stables and I saw him and I was just so mad that I-I hit him with a shovel, I didn't think he would die, I just wanted him to be as afraid of me as I was of him. That woman he was with, she saw me kill him so I shot her but she got away and now I'm good as dead."

Ellie didn't seem as mortified as you thought she would be, she took the shotgun away from you, slinging an arm around your waist with her free hand and guiding you back to the house "It's okay, not as bad as it could be, you took care of me now it's my turn to take care of you."

"It's not okay, I'm gonna be strung up at the gallows in front of everyone, I killed the mayors son." A breath hitched in your throat "My dad's gonna watch me hang."

"Only if they catch us," Ellie said nonchalantly, steering you up the porch "Pack what you need, we'll be out of here in no time. It only feels fair to tell you now that I’m not actually a travelling merchant.”

[pwlanier]

Fulgurites are also called ‘fossilized lightning’ because they are formed when lightning strikes the ground. They are, so to speak, ‘lightning turned to stone’. In the process, tube-like structures are formed, hollow on the inside and branching out at the ends. Due to the great energy of the impact, material is ejected from the inside of the resulting cylinder, thus forming the hollow cavity. Rocks and sand of any type can form fulgurites.

So-called ‘lightning bundles’ already served in the art of the Romans and Greeks as a symbol for the god of the heavens, who slung lightning bolts and ruled over gods and men. Both in appearance and in the manner in which they originated, fulgurites could be described as the natural equivalent of these symbols, which are usually carved from stone and consist of stylised lightning bolts, held by Zeus himself in statues made in his honour.

The fossilisation of lightning occurs so rarely that fulgurites were given as gifts to kings, such as Frederick Augustus of Saxony in 1822. The Leipzig professor of physics and chemistry L. W. Gilbert remarked around 1800 that he considered fulgurites as ‘by far the most interesting and greatest natural curiosity.’ Due to the exceptionally high temperatures created in the rock by the striking lightning, another highly interesting scientific feature of fulgurites is the presence of very rare minerals such as lechatelierite, a natural silica glass composed of amorphous silica. This mineral otherwise only occurs in impact craters and tectonically highly fractured rocks (mylonite).

The specimen presented here was found at the foot of sand dunes of the great sand sea in the Western Desert of Egypt. Its tubular shape is typical of lightning striking sand. Since fulgurites can usually only be excavated in fragments of 10-15 centimetres in length, this specimen is a true rarity due to its size and especially its unique form. With its dark colour and detailed filigree branching, it is a mysterious, fascinating product of an extraordinary natural phenomenon.

Koller

[typhlonectes]

Midwife Toads (genus Alytes)

Midwife toads are a genus (Alytes) of frogs in the family Alytidae (formerly Discoglossidae), and are found in most of Europe and northwestern Africa. 

Characteristic of these toad-like frogs is their parental care; the males carry a string of fertilised eggs on their backs, hence the name "midwife". The female expels a strand of eggs, which the male fertilizes externally. He then wraps them around his legs to protect them from predators in the water. When they are ready to hatch, the male wades into shallow water, where he allows the tadpoles to leap out of their eggs. 

Five separate species of midwife toads are found across western Europe, northern Africa, and Majorca.

Midwife toads can be found in the snows of the Pyrenees, living at heights of 5,000–6,500 feet in areas such as the Néouvielle massif. Unlike the thin tongue of many amphibians, the midwife's tongue is round and flattened; its former family name, Discoglossidae, means "round tongue". In parts of France, midwife toads live in sand dunes by the sea...

Read more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midwife_toad

photos:  Iberian Midwife Toad by Benny Trapp CC and Common Midwife Toad by Christian Fischer CC

[pitviperofdoom]

So uh. About 12 years ago I thought it'd be fun to do Sherlock Holmes set in the Redwall universe. I wrote a bit for it, then lost interest and moved on to other things.

Well, between my Redwall reread and the Letters from Watson substack, I've recently found myself with renewed interest in both Redwall and Holmes stories, so I decided to dust off the ol' Redwall AU. I reread what I had, found it almost entirely unusable, and completely reworked it. And now I have a humble little introduction here!

Don't know if I'll continue this, but I've had a LOT of fun ideas over the last week, so we'll see!

*****

Extract from the personal journal of Lancejack Johnswort Swifteye, formerly of the Fur and Foot Fighters Border Patrol—

The first day of spring has come and gone. The days grow warmer and longer as we leave winter further behind—the Winter of the Sweeping Mists, by Abbey reckoning. By my own reckoning it was the Winter of Abject Misery.

For six seasons I have marched with the Fur and Foot Fighters Border Patrol, that intrepid unit that keeps watch on the region where Mossflower meets the sand dunes by the Western Sea. Most of my comrades were Salamandastron hares, but with the border patrol’s proximity to the forest, they had plenty of use for squirrels like myself. Like many of my kind I am sharp of eye and handy with a bow, and between my childhood of helping in the Abbey Infirmary and my later training under Lieutenant Lagsworth, I had the skills to make myself useful as a healer as well.

It all came to an abrupt and inglorious end last winter, when a Galloper from the Long Patrol came to us warning of a corsair ship that had made landfall not far from our position. Word reached us too late that the ship was in fact a full fleet, and in the resulting battle I found myself cut off from the rest of the patrol during our retreat. I went down with several wounds, not the least of which was a bolt from a searat’s crossbow in my leg, and I would have been killed if Corporal Pennyroyal hadn’t dragged me to safety.

The patrol suffered heavier losses than it should have, with its principal healer gravely wounded. Penny tells me it was touch and go for a while, before reinforcements from Salamandastron arrived, led by Colonel Kordyne himself. In the end I survived, albeit severely weakened and with a newly-acquired limp, my military career indefinitely on hold if not outright over.

Once I was well enough to travel, I was swiftly sent on my way to Redwall by shrew logboat, and had scarcely passed a week in the willing paws of the abbeydwellers when I was struck down with a ferocious fever. The days and weeks that followed were miserable, full of aches and chills and horrendous dreams—and precious little company, as I was kept away from other creatures so as not to spread my illness to the rest of the abbey.

To add insult to injury, I missed the Nameday celebrations entirely, and by the time I had regained enough of an appetite to enjoy the taste of food, every crumb of that glorious feast had been eaten or sent out to the denizens of the surrounding woodlands in need of extra food after the winter.

It is strange to find myself walking Redwall’s venerable halls once more. I was quite young when I left, creeping out in the cover of night so as not to alert the elders to my departure. Back then I dreamed of returning in glorious triumph, and here I am now, scrawny and scarred and hobbling about with a cane on days when my leg gives me trouble. I keep busy how I can, usually helping Brother Stonecrop in the Infirmary, but more often than not I find myself passing days in a fog. I miss my comrades, the smell of the wind off the distant sea, the feeling of good bark beneath my claws. Embarrassment about my situation has made me a recluse. Stonecrop and I were friends as Dibbuns, and he is still good company, but in spite of his best efforts, in spite of the many good creatures who make their home in Redwall, I cannot recall ever feeling so terribly lonely.

****

The sound of pawsteps on the stone floor reached John’s ears. Briefly he considered snuffing out the candle and waiting silently for whoever it was to leave, but the thought felt unbearably childish. With a sigh, he set down his quill and blew gently on the still-wet ink.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding.” Brother Stonecrop poked his head around the cask. “By the fur, how can you stand being down here so long on the cold stone?”

“It’s quiet,” John replied. “And before you ask, my leg feels fine. How’d you find me?”

“You certainly didn’t make it easy.” The stout mouse eased between the barrels and sat down with him, fidgeting until he’d smoothed out his habit. “I checked the infirmary and the top of the belltower first, and then I remembered Pinn saying she’d seen you creeping down here the other day.”

“I really thought I’d given her the slip,” John muttered, before a cloth-wrapped bundle was thrust into his inkstained paws. “Stonecrop, what—”

“You missed lunch again,” Stonecrop informed him. “I managed to rescue some cheese and nutbread and a scone before the young ones scoffed the lot. There’s a beaker of dandelion cordial as well. Get your jaws around that, see if it puts you in a better mood.”

“My mood is perfectly fine,” John protested. As if on cue, his traitorous stomach growled.

“Says the daft beast as he broods in the dark, scribbling out his thoughts by candlelight.”

“Alright, alright.” John bit into the scone and almost groaned. “Hell’s teeth, that’s good. How is it still warm?”

“Alright, so I didn’t actually snatch it from the jaws of a ravenous mousebabe,” Stonecrop admitted. “I stopped by the kitchens for a fresh one. I thought if you were making yourself this hard to find, it was a scone-straight-from-the-ovens sort of day.”

In spite of himself, John couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Stonecrop.”

Stonecrop clapped him on the back. “Think nothing of it, old Swifteye. Somebeast has to make sure you don’t waste away to nothing.”

“I’m nowhere near old.”

“Is that a fact? I could hardly tell, when you’ve got a face on you like a decrepit frog more often than not.” Stonecrop’s tone, light as it was, betrayed his worry. “You know it wouldn’t hurt to attend a meal every now and then. It’d be good for you to have some company once in a while.”

“I know, I know, it just…” John sipped from the beaker to buy himself time to think. “It gets a bit loud, especially with how voices echo in this place. And the last time I was somewhere loud, it wasn’t one of my good days.”

Stonecrop frowned. “I would think Dibbuns shrieking at dinnertime was a far cry from a battlefield.”

“You would think.”

“Well…” John could almost hear Stonecrop’s thoughts whirring as he hunted for a solution. “Would it help to get out of the abbey for a bit? You’ve hardly left since you got here—obviously you couldn’t with the fever, but you’re hale and healthy now, besides the leg. A bit of fresh air never harmed anybeast. Matter of fact, I’ve been doing some spring cleaning in the infirmary, and some of my herb stores need to be restocked.”

“It… would be nice to walk among proper trees again,” John admitted. “Though with my luck, I’d go out for a leisurely stroll and run straight into a robber gang.”

“Good thing you’re in an abbey full to the brim with willing, helpful beasts,” Stonecrop pointed out. “Why don’t I send you and somebeast else out on a little herb-gathering mission for me?”

“I’m not some restless young one you need to keep busy,” John told him, finishing up the last of the cheese.

“No, you’re a restless fully grown squirrel who needs to keep busy before he crawls out of his own fur,” Stonecrop said dryly.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” John sighed. “You’re right. I’ve just been… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Lonely?”

“I don’t know if it’s that,” John flicked away the last few crumbs of nutbread. “But it feels the same whether I’m hiding down here or standing in the middle of a crowded Cavern Hole, so I may as well feel it without forcing my awful moods on somebeast else.”

Stonecrop placed a paw on his shoulder. “That’s no good and you know it, John. Starving the body won’t cure it of sickness, and starving the spirit won’t cure it of sadness, either.”

“I’m not sad, I’m just… I’m not exactly what anybeast would consider good company.”

Stonecrop took long enough to reply for John to finish the rest of his meal. When he glanced over again, he found the mouse looking at him thoughtfully.

“What?”

“It’s funny, I was just thinking… you’re not the first creature to say that to me in the last few days,” Stonecrop said, stroking his whiskers.

“So there’s another unsociable hermit in the abbey? I’m shocked we haven’t run into each other in the same hidden-away nook.”

“You’d be surprised,” Stonecrop chuckled. “But no, he’s been away from the abbey for most of the winter and just returned this past week. Bit of an odd one, but clever as anything. Knows the woods like the back of his paw, too. It was actually him I asked first about herbs, and he was all for helping until somebeast else came along with a more interesting problem for him to solve.”

“Not very courteous of him.”

“Oh, that’s just how he is,” Stonecrop said with a shrug. “But either way my stores need replenishing, and I’ve been busy with cleaning and early springtime sniffles. Would you be willing to lend me a paw?”

John sighed, trying not to smile and failing. “Well, when you put it like that, I’d be a real puddenhead to say no, wouldn’t I?”

“That’s the spirit!” Stonecrop heaved himself to his footpaws before reaching down to pull John up alongside him. “Come along then, let’s get you back out into the sunlight. Meet me in the infirmary and we can go over the list—I’ll go let Hemlock know I won’t be needing him after all.”

“Actually…” For a moment, John teetered on the edge of indecision, before he steeled himself and swallowed his ever-present doubts. “I think I’ll come along with you. You’ve got me curious about this Hemlock fellow.”

Stonecrop’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Well this is a pleasant surprise.”

“I rarely hear a cross word from you about anybeast,” John pointed out. “So if he’s odd enough for even you to remark upon it…”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Stonecrop chuckled, a bit nervously. “Just try to keep an open mind.”

Curiosity piqued, John followed him out of the cellar, through the Great Hall and out onto the abbey lawns. From the looks of it, most creatures had taken advantage of the warming weather to have lunch outside. The food was cleared away, but rumpled blankets still lay strewn across the grass, and sticky-pawed Dibbuns dashed about playing while their elders cleared away dishes and napkins.

The gatehouse door stood ajar when they reached it, and Stonecrop knocked twice before pushing it fully open and stepping inside. “Are you in there, Hemlock?”

There was no reply, but the sound of pages turning told them that somebeast was inside, at least. The gatehouse was a cluttered mess, and the sounds of life came from somewhere behind the stacks of old tomes and loose parchment that covered the desk.

Before Stonecrop could call out again, the unseen creature gave a great “Ha!” before slamming a book shut and nearly knocking the chair over in a mad scurry for the door.

Behind Stonecrop, John froze, and his mouth dropped open.

There was a ferret in the gatehouse—better fed and groomed than others of his kind that John had encountered, but a ferret nonetheless. From head to toe his brown fur was so dark it was nearly black, with flashes of white over his muzzle and ears, and a thin layer of dust over all.

“Solved it!” he crowed triumphantly, waving a slip of parchment. “Terribly sorry for the wait, Stonecrop, Myrtus presented me with a puzzle the other day and it couldn’t wait.”

“Sounds like it was a real poser,” Stonecrop said.

“A decent diversion. How close is it to noon?”

“About two hours past,” Stonecrop replied.

The ferret beamed. “Excellent timing! This is the best part—come, this way, you’ll both enjoy this.”

Without waiting for a reply, the ferret seized them both by their sleeves and pulled them out of the gatehouse, then released them and took off for the orchards at a quick lope.

John was left staring after him, mouth still hanging open. Wordlessly he turned to Stonecrop.

“I did say he was odd and to keep an open mind,” Stonecrop sighed. “We’d better see what he’s found.”

They caught up to the ferret at the wall nearest the orchard, walking quickly along its length and tapping each sandstone block as he went. “Well, what is it, Hemlock?” Stonecrop asked.

“Twelve, thirteen—hush, I’m counting—fourteen, fifteen…” The ferret carried on until he reached the middle of the wall, then turned his back was to it and began counting his steps. Before long they were within the shade of the orchard, and the ferret had halted at a damson tree and was squinting at something on the ground. With a noise of sudden understanding he darted along its shadow until he reached its end, counted several more steps, and stopped at an apple tree.

“Here it is!” The ferret inspected the tree trunk, then stared up into its branches, before turning and locking eyes with John. “The smallest favor, if you don’t mind—could you climb up there and see if you can find this?” He passed the slip of parchment to John. Scribbled on it was the symbol of a flower with star-shaped leaves.

Luckily today was a good day, and his leg didn’t pain him beyond a bit of stiffness. With one last baffled look at Stonecrop, John scaled the tree with ease. This early in spring, the boughs were mostly bare of leaves, and it took him several minutes to find the symbol. It wasn’t carved into the tree itself, but engraved on a small bronze disk embedded in one of the branches.

“Found it!” he called down.

“Which side of the tree?” the ferret asked.

“South!”

“Thank you!”

John climbed down to find the ferret down on all fours at the roots on the south side, digging furiously into the soil with both paws.

“Would you like me to find Foremole?” Stonecrop asked.

“No, I’ve got it!”

Soil flew into a growing pile behind him; the ferret dug with single-minded determination until his head was fully out of sight. Minutes passed before John heard a thud and curse, and the ferret’s dirt-covered face poked back into view.

“It’ll just be a moment more, I’ve just hit it,” he said, before diving back down with renewed energy.

“Just hit what?” John mouthed to Stonecrop, who shrugged helplessly at him and crouched down for a better look.

Eventually the ferret rose again with a grunt of effort, and lifted out an old, dirt-caked chest secured with a rusted lock. The ferret dove down again, produced a sizable rock from the hole he’d just dug, and smashed it off. Then he lifted the lid, peered inside, and gave a bark of triumphant laughter.

“Well?” Stonecrop spoke up. “Don’t keep us in suspense, what have you found?”

“No gold or jewels, if that’s what you’re wondering,” the ferret replied. “These are the journals of Brother Mallowgreen, during the reign of Abbot Kastel. There’s a bit of a gap in the abbey’s history during that time, thanks to the abbot’s rather unfortunate penchant for destroying records he didn’t like. Luckily, the Infirmary keeper at the time had the presence of mind to hide his own scribblings, and was kind enough to leave behind a few riddles leading to their location.” He lifted himself out of the hole and dusted off his paws, gray eyes alight with satisfaction. “And I do love a good riddle.”

“And you took all of two and a half days to solve it,” Stonecrop remarked.

“As I said, a decent diversion.” The ferret’s eyes settled on John again. “Hello.”

“Ah, right—Hemlock, this is John Swifteye, an old friend of mine. John, this is Hemlock, who I told you about.”

“Pleasure.” Hemlock’s pawshake was firm but not so tight as to be painful. “I didn’t know Stonecrop’s friendships extended as far as the Fur and Foot Fighters of the western dunes.”

“I, er, haven’t been back here in some time,” John stammered out, caught off guard.

“Do your herbs still need restocking, by the way?” Hemlock asked Stonecrop. “I know it’s been a few days.”

“You know, I was just coming to let you know that I’d found somebeast else for the task,” Stonecrop replied. “But it looks like you’re free again.”

“It might be a two-beast job, given the state of your stores when I last saw them,” Hemlock pointed out, with a glance at John. “I wouldn’t mind the extra paws, especially if it means having an archer along. Never mind being out of practice—any ne’er do wells we find in the woods today will most likely flee at a warning shot.”

“Um,” said John.

“If you’re not averse to my company, of course,” Hemlock added with a smile.

“I—not at all,” John answered without thinking. “If you don’t mind slowing up for a squirrel with a limp.”

“Well then.” Hemlock scooped up the chest and tucked it under one arm. “I’ll go run this little find up to the attic, and then I’ve got to nip down to the kitchens for something. See you at the east wallgate, Swifteye.” With that, he was gone.

John waited until Hemlock was well out of earshot before jabbing his paw into Stonecrop’s ribs. “Out with it, Stonecrop, how many others have you gossiped to about me?”

“I didn’t!” Stonecrop was grinning. “On my honor, I never breathed a word about you, to him or anybeast else. I told you he’s clever.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” John asked.

Stonecrop slung a friendly paw around his shoulders and began leading him back to the abbey building. “Only one way to find out.”

They had only just reached the lawn when, behind them, the deep voice of Brother Bramlen the gardener rang out from beneath the trees.

“WHO IN THE NAME O’ SPIKES HAS BEEN DIGGIN’ UP ME TREES?” the hedgehog bellowed. “HEMLOCK!”

Squirrel and mouse beat a hasty retreat, laughing like misbehaving young ones.

****

True to his word, Hemlock was waiting by the east wallgate when John made his way down. The ferret was cloaked warmly for the lingering winter’s chill, and carried an empty basket with one paw and, oddly enough, what seemed to be a fully-packed haversack on his shoulders. John had a basket of his own, and had armed himself with bow, quiver, and a stout walking stick.

“Planning on spending the night, are you?” John asked, glancing at the pack.

“No,” Hemlock replied, and unbolted the gate. “After you.”

The sun was out, with more blue in the sky than gray. In spite of the warmth of sunlight, the air was still cold, even more so without the high abbey walls to block the wind. John’s injured leg gave a twinge, forcing him to lean on the stick a little more heavily than he would have liked.

Hemlock had taken the lead without a word, which was fair enough. Before he’d come limping to the abbey under the guidance of the Guosim, John hadn’t been this deep into Mossflower Wood since his nighttime escape as a wayward young one. Besides, if he wasn’t focused on pathfinding, it gave him a chance to size up his strange companion.

It wasn’t unheard of for vermin to live their lives in peace and quiet contentment. John had known of a few to the west—a weasel couple that farmed and fished in the woods, a solitary old rat that lived out in the dunes—and the patrol kept an eye out but otherwise left them alone. But that didn’t change the fact that, by and large, the vast majority that John had encountered had been… well. Roving bandits, robber gangs. Corsair fleets.

John glanced back at the sandstone wall looming over the tree tops, then again at Hemlock. Redwall’s charter had something or other about extending paws in peace and friendship, but that didn’t change the long history of vermin hordes showing up to try and conquer the place.

“Rest assured, that is not my intention,” Hemlock said dryly.

Startled, John nearly tripped. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was only a little older than a kit when I first came to Redwall,” Hemlock went on, picking his way carefully through a tangle of roots. “Rather a long time for a plot to simmer, wouldn’t you agree?”

John slowed, leaning heavily on his stick as he followed. “I didn’t—how did you—?”

“Your stare has been burning holes in the back of my head since we left,” Hemlock replied. At least he didn’t sound particularly offended. “And just now you looked back at the abbey as if to make sure it was still there, then very pointedly looked at all the spots on my person that might conceal weapons. It wasn’t difficult to follow your train of thought.”

“...Oh.” Sheepishly, John lapsed into silence.

Eventually Hemlock led the way to a patch of vervain, and John descended upon it. The plants were strong and healthy in spite of the recent winter, and before long the bottom of his basket was lined with it.

“I found feverfew not far from here, last time I passed through,” Hemlock spoke up suddenly. “Hopefully it’ll still be there—not much snow, this past winter, so it won’t have frozen.”

John pulled himself back up on his stick. His leg was beginning to ache, just slightly, but he could still walk a bit more. “Lead on.”

They found it near a massive fallen beech log, growing green and full out of the loam, though it was still too early in the season for flowers. Still, Stonecrop could do a lot with stems and leaves alone. When John was finished harvesting them, he found Hemlock sitting on the log waiting for him.

“Might as well sit for a bit,” the ferret said. “Rest that leg.”

“Oh. Er, thank you.” John leaned his stick against the log and climbed up to sit—not beside him, but near enough.

Truthfully, he was grateful. He hadn’t had much in the way of exercise recently, between injuries, fever, and moping. He could feel himself getting winded and tired more quickly than he ever had before. A long walk through the woods without rest was likely to make his leg worse.

Hemlock must have known. He certainly wasn’t resting for his own benefit.

“Can I ask you something?” John asked eventually.

“You may.”

“Stonecrop said he didn’t tell you about me,” said John. “Did somebeast else tell you who I was, or…?”

Hemlock’s gray eyes flitted up and down, taking in the whole of him again. “I hadn’t heard of you before Stonecrop introduced us.”

“Then how did you know I’m—I was one of the Fur and Foot Fighters?”

“Oh, a number of things,” Hemlock replied. “I looked at you and thought, here is a creature who carries himself like a trained soldier, with his best seasons before him but covered in scars old and new, with a freshly maimed leg and a recent bout of illness, in the middle of a vast forest that hasn’t seen much trouble from hordes and bandits in quite some time. The military bearing suggests the Long Patrol, but it’s extremely rare to see anybeast but a hare among them. And if you were in the Long Patrol, you would’ve rested from your hardships in Salamandastron. Then I remembered hearing of the recent visit from the Guosim, and that answered that. You came from the border between forest and sand, and your comrades saw fit to put you on a boat for home rather than send you on a long march over the dunes.” He paused. “The archery was easy enough—calluses on your paws and a thin patch on your inner arm where the bowstring wears at your fur when you fire.”

John gaped at him.

“It sounds complicated when I lay it all out, but it’s really not,” Hemlock finished. “Two and two make four.”

“And you know Redwall is ‘home’ for me because…?”

“The accent, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He hadn’t even known he had an accent.

“How’s the leg?” Hemlock asked.

John tested it, then carefully slid down to the ground. The ache was nearly gone. “Better, thank you.”

“Let’s be off, then. The infirmary’s stores don’t have a single stem of marigold left.”

Before they left, Hemlock shrugged the haversack from his shoulders and set it on the log. John watched him curiously as he wedged it in the fork of the roots so that it wouldn’t slide off.

“What are you doing?”

“Paying for services rendered,” Hemlock replied, leaving the pack where it sat. “Let’s be off.”

The ferret offered no further explanation. Something told John it would be useless to press.

****

“So what do you think of him?” Stonecrop asked later that evening, as they reorganized the herb stores.

“You were right,” John replied. “He’s an odd one and no mistake. Monstrously clever, though.”

“Oh, that he is.”

“He left a full haversack out in the woods,” John added, glancing at his friend. “Any idea what that’s about?”

“Ah, that.” Stonecrop grinned. “Don’t worry about that. You’ll find out soon enough.”

[somethingclevermahogony]

Hey, it's Worldbuilding Wednesday! If the Green Sea had an equivalent to the 7 Wonders of the World, what would go on the list? Natural or constructed wonders are both included.

Happy WBW! Since you specifically asked about The Green Sea I won't include things from other regions of Kobani, like the moving palaces aka Zawuk of the Makurians or the Ruins of Shaotsu far to the east in Mu.

Please excuse my crappy Microsoft paint diagrams

The Seven Wonders of the Green Sea as Recorded by Taruku the Traveler

The Marvels of Taruku as listed in order. 1 The Tomb of Tamel, Labisa, Kishetal 2 The Garden of Metal and Glass, Near Chibal, Kishetal 3 The Gates of Nashawey 4 The Arkodian Furnaces, Miminat, Korithia 5 The Vases of Stars, East of Kotsa, Kishetal 6 The Cavern City of Unkhatet, Knosh 7 The Cliffs of the Boticii, Western Ikenii 8 The Dunes of Nosina, Aguru Desert 9 The Ruins of Lake Opala, Tuwa, Namut 10 The Gardens of the Giants, Jonluria 11 The Palace of Irutilikugal, The City-State of Irud, Perhibaha 12 The Menagerie of Meshnangul, The City-State of Girumu, Perhibaha 13 The Zawuk of Kibud, North of the Kimikasan Mountains, Makia 14 Port of Turqouise, Kingdom of Saqaetaba, Nuret 15 The Temple of Pandhatrajun, Kingdom of Janpadran, Sinru

Continues below!

Taruku of Chibal was the son of a somewhat successful tin merchant in the Kishic City-State of Chibal. His father’s trade gave the young man access to a great deal of travel throughout the lands of Kobani. He traveled personally as far north as Jonluria, where he met a clan of giants, as far south as lake Opula in eastern Pyritia where he recorded several Pre-calamity ruins, and as far east as the Kimikasan Mountians north of Sinru, where he noted the Zawuks. In his writings about his travels, The Winds, Tarkul describes many aspects of the Green Sea and some of the areas beyond. The most famous section of the book is Taruku’s “Marvels” those natural or non-natural phenomena which Taruku felt were most extraordinary. There are 15 of these in total but for the purposes of this paper I will only be listing the 7 found in the lands which line the Green Sea (Highlighted in Green in the list above.)

1 The Tomb of Tamel

Kishic monarchs are traditionally buried in what are known as Jasheboli, or living mountains. These pyramid-like structures contain the bones of the dead rulers along with various treasures and goods. Kishic funerary customs dictate that the body first be exposed to the elements and typically consumed by local scavengers. After this the remaining bones are collected and buried. The bones of the poor are often buried near rivers or sacred groves, but the wealthy often have elaborate tombs. This is especially true of the massive burial structures of monarchs, which in some cases such as the Tomb of Tamel, may be topped with a temple to the city's patron god. Traditionally the first couple layers of a tomb are covered with plants such as fruit trees to create the illusion of a verdant mountain, thus the name. The Tomb of Tamel is the first such structure, made for the first and only Ruler of the Kishic Empire, the spiritblood Tamel. He likely based the idea for the tomb on the burial mound tradition of his homeland, Shabala. The Tomb of Tamel stands prominently in the center of the city, as opposed to the typical custom of such structures being built on the outskirts of Kishic cities. Perhaps the most notable facet of the Tomb is its sheer size, though hundreds of tombs have been constructed in the wake of Tamel, no tomb has reached its massive scale. The second largest, the Tomb of the Warrior Queen, Seha III, is approximately 30% smaller. The temple atop the Tomb of Tamel is dedicated to the Goddess Humbalibal. The trees growing on the tomb are fig, date, and pear. Visitors to Labisa often pay to purchase these fruits from the priests. It is believed that using one of the fruits from Tamel’s tomb for a sacrifice or offering will serve to better win the favor of the gods.

2 The Garden of Metal and Glass

The Garden of Metal and Glass is the name given to a mysterious forest which sprouts from the otherwise arid grasslands which lie to the east of the city of Chibal in Kishetal. Plants which grow there are not characteristic of that region, and indeed are not found natively except for in regions hundreds or even thousands of miles away. Fauna are similarly odd, several species found within the Garden are found only in that small area and nowhere else in Kobani, or else may be found in far away exotic regions in Makia and Pyritia. Their presence in Kishetal is as of now, unexplained. The Forest surrounds a massive set of Pre-Calamity ruins, the largest in Kishetal. The exact nature of these ruins is as of yet unknown. Though the Garden is renowned for its verdant beauty, it is said to be home to several powerful and aggressive Forestfolk tribes as well as a number of particularly impressive spirits, for this reason the Garden has not been settled or otherwise exploited by humans.

3 Gates of Nashawey

This massive structure is found in the Apunian capital at Nashawey stretches across the Putla River where it acts as a sort of tollbooth but also as a defensive structure. The Gateway was constructed by the Fapacha Rutamatep five-hundred years before the events of The Testaments of the Green Sea. The gate itself is composed primarily of sandstone and marble with heavy gilding on its columns. Carvings depict various stories and battles from both the Fapacha who ordered its construction and his successors. It is not unusual for Fapacha to have the carvings of their predecessors chiseled away in order to make room for their own pieces. The Gate is the first thing that visitors see upon entering the city.

4 The Arkodian Furnaces

The Arkodian Furnaces, located in the modern Kishic city of Miminat are a part of the city's Arkodian predecessor, Myminat. It is here that the ancient city's smiths and sages worked together to create the famed and magical Arkodian Bronze. At its peak it was the largest such structure in Kobani. The furnaces were destroyed and subsequently abandoned after the sack of the city by Kishic invaders. Today the ruins are appreciated for their grand scale and the perceived inspiration that can be gained from being in the presence of the soot stained stones. Hundreds of poets, artists, and philosophers travel to the ruins in order to find inspiration. Much of modern Korithian architecture is directly inspired by this site.

5 The Vases of Stars

These vases, located in southern Kishetal are all that remains of a mysterious tribe, known as the Rekita, which once inhabited the region before the coming of Tamel and the founding of Kishetal. Nobody is sure what happened to this group, though they may be related in some way to the Rechiru people who now inhabit Jezaan. They left behind no buildings or roads, only massive stone jars/vases, some large enough to fit an average adult man, haphazardly strewn across an area of grassy hills. What makes the Vases special are the spirits which have taken residence inside of them. The majority of spirits are invisible to all but sages, seers, and spiritbloods. The Vases are one of the few places in Kobani where spirits are observable by ordinary people. The spirits are typically seen as colorful balls of fire, sages theorize that they are a particularly shy variety of fire spirit. If a person is quiet they may observe the spirits as they bob lazily around the Kishic countryside.

6 The Cavern City of Unkhatet

The City of Unkhatet is a massive network of interconnected tunnels, caverns, and rooms forming a subterranean city which is home to approximately 12,000 people. The tunnels stretch over an area roughly the size of Kishic city of Labisa. While not the only subterranean community which can be found in the Green Sea, it is the largest and the most complex. The origins of the city are forgotten to time and theories abound. Some believe that the initial tunnels were created in the Pre-Calamity era. while others believe that the first tunnels were dug for Forestfolk or else by ancient flint miners. Regardless, the city exists as a semi-autonomous entity beneath the Knoshic kingdom of Juta. The city is reliant on the surface for most foodstuffs and textiles, while those below provide mined goods, including flint, gold, and iron ore.

7 The Cliffs of the Boticii

These massive cliffs, found on the western coast of Ikenii, are named for the tribe which ruled that particular region when Taruku visited that area. The beautiful striped black and white stone is composed primarily of a mixture of chalk and black flint, with occasional sections of sandstone, and iron heavy deposits adding flashes of yellow, red, and orange. The cliffs are home to thousands of examples of fossilized sea life, including certain ancient species of sea-dragon. Unfortunately the site is heavily exploited as these fossils, and particular teeth and shells, have become popular for artistic, medicinal, and even militaristic purposes. Thousands of pounds of chalk and fossils are taken from these cliffs every year, destined either for other regions of Ikenii or else for other parts of the Green Sea and beyond. Interestingly enough, the Boticii, for which the cliffs are names, are one group who have historically refrained from looting and exploiting the spoils of the cliffs, as they believe that the cliffs and the sea below are inhabited by dangerous spirits, who may lash out at those who invade their territory. Judging by the number of shipwrecks and drownings which occur in the region, these beliefs may be more than mere folklore.

This region was also once home to the last Giant Clan in the Green Sea, though this particular group went extinct 600 years before the events of The Testaments. Today giants can only be found in the frozen regions of the Daturic.

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms @roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe @axl-ul, @persnickety-peahen, @surroundedbypearls

[karaloza]

Legend of Zelda Theme Park - Gerudo Desert

At long last, I've found a way to add the desert to my theme park!

At the western end of the Dark World is the entrance to a sandstone canyon which meanders a bit and then debouches onto a lively bazaar. Buildings are constructed from off-white masonry contrasting with brilliantly colored fabrics and mosaics. There are numerous planters containing palm trees and cacti to help direct foot traffic as well as providing bench space and extra shade. Near the center of the plaza is a circular fountain featuring a statue of a woman wielding a sword, surrounded by more vegetation. The outside edge of the area is bounded with facades representing sand dunes, among which can be seen landmarks such as the OoT Desert Colossus and BoTW Gerudo Town. From time to time, an animated figure of a Molduga arches from one sand dune to another like a breaching whale.

Attractions

Nabooru’s Training Course: A combination maze and obstacle course—periodically, the winding corridors offer an opportunity to hone your skills as an elite bandit…but if you don’t feel up to tackling the balance beam, overhead bars, crawl net, or other physical challenge, a normal path continues alongside the obstacle. This is just the beginners’ course—from time to time, you can peek through to a more advanced course where Gerudo make trapeze-caliber leaps over jets of fire, dodge flying darts, and disable booby traps (or fail to do so!). At the end of the maze is a playground featuring more things to climb and jump in, just in case you had any excess energy left.

Gerudo Warriors’ Procession: Taking place at scheduled intervals in the bazaar, a squad of the Gerudo tribe’s most impressive warriors parade through the street to a stage where they demonstrate some of their combat skills.

Skipper’s Time-Shifted Boat Tour: Inspired by the Lanayru Sand Sea from Skyward Sword, this dark ride uses projection mapping, augmented reality goggles, and a bit of motion simulation to create the illusion of riding in a boat through a desert that has been transformed into an ancient ocean, but only in a set radius around the craft thanks to the aura of the Timeshift Stone. Fantastic corals appear and disappear, long-decayed ships spring back into operation only to wither again as the boat leaves them behind, the bleached bones of sea monsters turn into living threats until the robot guide manages to outrun them. The queue includes a few interactive “windows” where the push of a button activates a Timeshift Stone to alter a scene—a massive tree reverts to a tiny sapling in a meadow, a crumbled ruin becomes a bustling fortress in its heyday, etc.

Sand-Seal Rally Race: A high-speed ride along a figure-eight racing track, in a seal-drawn “sand sled.” Watch out when you get to the crossing point—don’t crash with another sled!

Shops

5. Silken Palace: Scarves, shawls, capelets, veils, and other free-flowing clothing and accessories made from scrumptiously colored and patterned fabrics…even sarees! Knowledgeable staff can show how to properly put on your purchases if you need help.

6. Hotel Oasis Spa Shop: A health and beauty shop featuring LoZ-inspired makeup palettes, custom-blended perfumes and colognes, bath salts, soaps, scrubs, massage oils, and other products to pamper your skin after a long day in the desert.

7. Starlight Memories: A jewelry boutique specializing in big, showy styles of earrings, bracelets, necklaces, brooches, and even diadems. Many pieces are inspired by the traditional jewelry styles of the Middle East and South Asia.

8. Sand-Seal Adoption Center: The Sand-Seal Rally Race exits through this shop specializing in plush toys of sand seals and other desert creatures both real and fanciful, with an optional “adoption ceremony” for your special new friend.

9. Miscellaneous Merchandise Booths: Small spaces leased out to small business retailers whose wares are in line with the overall “vibe” of the Bazaar.

Eateries

10. Gerudo Bistro: A café with well-shaded patio seating, featuring a menu of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern entrees and appetizers.

11. Arbiter’s Grounds: An Arabian/Persian/Turkish style coffee and tea bar, harking back to the ancient relationship with coffee enjoyed by the cultures that inspired the Gerudo. Brews are available hot, iced, flavored, even blended with ice cream for a perky smoothie. Or head next door…

12. Kara Kara Creamery: Beat the heat with frozen treats! Ice cream, frozen yogurt, sherbet, milkshakes, and smoothies are all available here, made to order. If you’re with a group, try the Seven Heroines Sundae, with seven “orbs” of different flavors reflecting the virtues prized by the Gerudo: skill, spirit, endurance, knowledge, flight, motion, and gentleness.

[hessdalen-globe]

Southern Aspenia in 160 ACC

I'm trying out representing geographic features on my maps. But I feel like it looks a bit messy.

Most of Aspenia's territory is covered in a dry sandy desert, especially the section that was south of the Pelgriece Canyon. This region is harsh but has long served as an essential place for travellers to pass through. The desert was a better alternative to climbing through the Cethoks, over the surrounding highlands, and through the wilds of western Montethé.

The main trade route from northern Norphendra to the south of the continent was established through Aspenia and the Inpent Desert. The trail connected the dots between the oases of Clos Vin, Clos Mor, and the largest oasis at Clos Ein. But most importantly the route went over the Arch of Turrice, the only crossing point of the Pelgriece Canyon.

This trade corridor was the main factor behind Aspenia's earlier success and garnering of wealth. Some of the 12 ruling families can trace their origin of power to the beginning of the trade route.

Some of the features on the map:

Pelgriece Canyon: Largest canyon on Hessdalen.

Pelgrohve Mountains: A mountain range mostly situated in Mohvesto.

Cethok Mountains: The tallest mountain range on Hessdalen. Trecherous to pass through.

The Great Dunes of Rynnia: A section of the desert covered in immense sand dunes that form towering ridges of pure powdery sand.

Nevence Depression: A large section of the Inpent Desert that is below sea level. A former lake.

Other points:

Next to the Aspenian flag is the symbol of the ruling family of Clos Ein, the oasis city being the most important in the region (rivaling Turrice).

The red highlighted borders show Aspenia's border with the Cazkanian controlled regions.

Aspenia is located in the heart of Norphendra, Hessdalen's largest continent.

Aspenia was an important power in the Early Ages, and was a major rival of the great Rusovian Empire.

The Aspenian caste system is strict. 12 families rule the country, and have ruled it since its inception. The wealth divide between them and the bottom classes is gargantuan.

Later in the year of 160, Aspenia would be attacked by Cazkania in a conflict that became known as the Aspenian War. This war was impactful in many ways, especially for some of my characters. I'll make another post about the invasion and go into more detail on its impacts.

[homenecromancer]

This is still a very rough draft, and I’m nervous about sharing it due to the subject matter, but I just couldn’t help myself. So here are a couple of sections from “Dune, But Paul Is Non-Binary”.

-

The child presented a problem from the day of their birth.

“A female?” said Leto.

“Yes, my lord.” Yueh waited as the Duke sat in silence. It was a cool, foggy day, and the fireplace in the library had been built up. Flames crackled; a pocket of sap popped.

“Very well,” Leto said at last. “You are dismissed.”

Yueh bowed and made his exit. The great ironwood doors closed softly behind him.

“Well, now,” said Thufir Hawat from his place beside the window on the western wall. “What a tangle we find ourselves in.”

“And no clear way of unknotting it.” Leto did not turn to look at Hawat as he spoke, but continued to gaze into the flames before him.

“Not at present,” Hawat agreed, as he crossed the room to sit opposite his Duke. “You’ve seven years yet until she’ll be expected to make her formal debut before your court. Until then, only your immediate household will even see the child.” Hawat spread his hands before him in a gesture indicating endless possibility. “And who’s to say this child will be a girl at all?”

“That would,” Leto said dryly, “avoid the problem of inheritance.” For the ancient law of his House limited full inheritance to its sons — other children remained outside the line of succession, unless younger than the age of reason (and thus genderless in the eyes of the law). For now, there was an heir to the house of Atreides. It remained to be seen whether that would stay the case.

“That it would, sire. What might we achieve, if it were possible to know the gender of the newly born?”

Hawat was leading him somewhere, Leto knew; but today, he was willing to play the Mentat’s game.

“There’d be less waiting,” he said. “I’d know today whether or not I had an heir.”

“And you’d have less time for the Noble Houses to arrange suitable matches for that heir,” Hawat countered. “My Lord, the point is this: even if that were so, there’d still be those who would try to mold their children into this gender or that, as a gardener directs the growth of a tree.”

“Human beings are not vines to be trained into arbors, Thufir.”

“It is not the Atreides way,” said Hawat. “But it would be well to keep in mind that there are those who disagree — our ancient enemy among them.”

Seeing his Duke’s silence, he went on:

“These thoughts are too serious for such a joyous occasion.” He rose from his chair. “Gurney Halleck is just back from the southern islands, I’m told. No doubt he’ll have a new song ready for you.”

And very likely a hangover as well, Leto thought. Gurney’s reports had come back regularly, giving every impression of time well-spent, but Leto knew the proclivities of his Warmaster. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure he will.”

Thufir let himself out; Leto remained. The logs settled on the grate. Outside, the clouds had lifted just enough to reveal the sunset over the endlessly-churning sea.

-

Autumn had come to Castle Caladan. The scent of burning leaves hung in the air like incense, and from the window of the schoolroom, the rolling hills beckoned Paul to come and play among the outcrops of granite that dotted the uplands. But there was business to attend to — his debut was only a month away.

“Hawat tells me,” his nurse was saying, “that regardless of your choice—” She saw that his attention had wavered, and said firmly, “Paul.”

He tore his gaze from the landscape and looked directly at her. A hint of color rose in her cheeks, then vanished. Adults, he knew, found it disturbing when he met their eyes; it was out of character for most children his age. “I was listening.”

“It looked to me like you were watching the gulls,” she said. “You won’t come of age for a long time yet, but the heir to a noble house must behave according to their station, and it is not too early for you to begin that habit.”

“Thufir says we must be conscious of our habits,” said Paul. “They may lead us down into stagnation.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be impressed by your good memory.” She brushed a speck of dust off the front of her blouse. “And you’ll continue to see Hawat until he’s satisfied you’re well-trained, so impressing him will serve you well, young master.”

She stumbled a little over his title — it would not be his officially until after his debut, but Paul had made it clear as soon as he began preparing for his debut in earnest that master suited him better than mistress.

He squirmed in his chair, resolutely keeping his gaze on his nurse’s face despite the lure of the hills outside the window. As he grew older, adults became more willing to treat him as the future heir to a noble house, but that was not yet his legal status, much as he longed for it. The people of his father’s household still treated him with care, as if he were a breakable object — but the exclusion of danger meant also the exclusion of venture, and even at the age of not-yet-seven, Paul knew that Dukes seldom lived peaceful lives.

“When can I start learning to defend myself?” he said.

“That’s for Duncan to decide.” She smiled.

“And he says not until I’m big enough to lift a practice sword.” He had play-fought with Duncan often enough, but there was a world of difference between the light, flexible toy swords of the nursery and even a child’s practice rapier.

“Very well, then. But the sword isn’t all there is to self-defense,” she added. “Your words must be your first, and most familiar, weapon.” She gestured for him to stand. “Let’s practice that recitation of yours.”

Paul stood next to his chair, drawing himself up straight. His hands wanted to fidget, and he stuck them in his pockets.

“Hands out of your pockets, Paul,” she said gently. “Now, repeat after me: I, Paul Atreides—”

[hiraganasakura]

[ID: A map of Vericitias, a fantasy land. The land is split into three continents: One in the northwest with an archipelago connected to it, one in the northeast, and one in the south.

The northwest continent's mainland is colored in brown, and is a long strip of land with a delta at the southernmost tip. At the top is a label reading "The Deadlands". From top to bottom, the three towns are Dimhearth, Bogreed, and Deltaspring. A harbor is marked with an anchor symbol at the bottom of the delta. There is a small mountain range at the northernmost tip, from which two rivers flow and eventually join when they reach the delta. A yellow star marks crossroads between Deltaspring, the other towns of the Deadlands, and the road to the archipelago.

East of the Deadlands is an archipelago, labeled at the top as "The Wavelands" and colored in sandy brown and light green. From top to bottom, the three towns are Anchorfall (note: It should say "Anchorfell" instead), Tropicharbor, and Saltshore. The bottommost island is small and has an anchor symbol denoting a harbor. There are also two more harbors, one beside each of the other cities. A dark blue star marks the path between Saltshore and the nearest harbor.

The northeastern continent is split into three regions, each labeled accordingly with a label above them. From top to bottom, they are the Peaklands (colored in white and full of mountains), the Mistlands (colored in gray and covered in fog, continuing the mountain range in the northern areas), and the Autumnlands (colored in orange and full of trees, concluding the mountain range in the north). From top to bottom, left to right, the towns are Winterchapel, Ridgegate, Snowcap Abbey (all in the Peaklands); Fogshade, Cloudport, Cogsmount (all in the Mistlands); Hollowvale, Fenrise, and Spirereach (all in the Autumnlands). One river cuts through the Peaklands; three that become two, and then one, through the Mistlands; and two that become one through the Autumnlands, one of which flows through a lake beside Hollowvale. There is a port at the bottom tip of the Mistlands, a port beside Fenrise, and a port beside Spirereach. A light blue star marks the path from Snowcap Abbey into the Peaklands; a black star sits atop Cloudport's icon; and a purple star is on top of the western river in the Autumnlands.

Finally, there is the southern continent. From left to right, the three regions are the Badlands (colored in sandy yellow, full of dunes and cacti and almost completely surrounded by cliffs), the Brushlands (colored in light green, occasionally dotted with trees and hills), and the Blossomlands (colored in dark green, full of trees). From left to right, the towns are Oasishaven, Clifthall, Canyonsong (all in the Badlands); Riverglen, Shrubsteppe, Breezegrave (all in the Brushlands), Bloomcrown, Petalcreek, and Lushhart (all in the Blossomlands). There is an oasis in front of Oasishaven. Two rivers become one cutting through the Brushlands, while three rivers join to become two through the Blossomlands. There is a port at the uppermost tip of the Brushlands, a port beside Bloomcrown, and a port beside Lushhart. A red star sits on Canyonsong's icon, an orange star marks the path leading into Shrubsteppe, and a green star is on top of Bloomcrown's icon.

Roads on land are denoted with dotted black lines. On the sea, dotted dark blue lines make paths between Deltaspring's harbor, the harbor closest to Saltshore, the harbor closest to Shrubsteppe, Bloomcrown, and the harbor closest to Cloudport. Medium blue lines make paths between Tropicharbor and the harbor closest to Saltshore, Bloomcrown, and Cloudport; as well as Fenrise with Bloomcrown and Cloudport. Finally, light blue lines make paths between Anchorfell and the port closest to Deltaspring, the port closest to Saltshore, and Tropicharbor; as well as Lushhart with Bloomcrown, Fenrise, and Spirereach. The sea is dotted with several ships and hazards. There is a compass rose in the bottom right corner. End ID.]

I don't make IDs often and I just made an absolutely massive one, pls lmk if I need to change it or the alt text in any way to be more accessible!

Anyhow, you're probably wondering what the heck this is! Vericitias is the location for my hypothetical Octopath Traveler III. I realized how important the worldbuilding was to the story, so I decided to make this post to both show off the map (which I made in Inkarnate) and explain a lot of the worldbuilding in a way where all of the important information wouldn't be so scattered and split up.

Due to length, the rest of this post will be beneath the cut. Also switching up my writing style to be my more formal and professional one after the cut lol

Before I get into the different regions and towns, I actually want to explain the star marks first. They show where you'd meet the travelers to add them to your party if they weren't chosen as your protagonist. Yellow is the apothecary, dark blue the thief, light blue the cleric, black the scholar, purple the merchant, green the warrior, orange the hunter, and finally, red is the dancer.

And with that concluded, time to actually talk about the land's locations!

THE DEADLANDS

Once known as the Marshlands, a horrible sickness known as the Blight struck the region during the Eight Years’ War. The Blight stole life from the once vibrant swamp, destroying crops and killing citizens, until it became the desolate and decaying wasteland most know it as now. Nobody knows for certain where the Blight came from; it could have just been any other sickness, or an enchantment by some sinister scholar, or something else entirely. But one thing is for certain: The Deadlands earned their name thanks to it.

Deltaspring

A small farming town at the mouth of a delta. Ever since the Blight hit the region, agriculture has greatly slowed; while before, Deltaspring produced enough crops to feed the whole region, it can now feed itself with a slight surplus. That being said, this is one of the few areas of the Deadlands where farming is at least possible. The region has had to mostly sustain off trade from other regions, but it’s primarily Deltaspring that prevents the region from being entirely reliant on others. Here, an apothecary named Tao makes her home, desperately trying to stop the Blight from affecting the people of her town.

Bogreed

A village on stilts, nestled into the swamp. Bogreed was hit rather hard by the Blight, with most of the agriculture industry being wiped out, even worse than in Deltaspring. The desperation of the townspeople has led to an underground crime ring taking root here, gaining and spending money through illicit means — including a gladiator ring — to stay alive.

Dimhearth

Dimhearth was once considered one of the major political powers of the world, and a historically important aggressor in the Eight Years’ War (on the side of Blizzardchapel, Spirereach, and Bloomcrown), but now, none of that power remains. Once an additional headquarters for the Church of the Sacred Flame, Dimhearth has since been abandoned after the Blight, leaving the people with tattered faith. In the time since, a gang of pirates known as the Crimson Cutthroats have made their base here, demanding the people pay tribute to them — or else.

THE WAVELANDS

An archipelago in the Shattered Sea, the Wavelands are considered the mercantile center of Vericitias. From the smallest of businesses to the grandest of corporations, all can be found here. However, the area is also a brooding ground for pirates. In particular, two factions of pirates combat one another for dominance in the seas beside the Wavelands: the bloodthirsty thugs called the Crimson Cutthroats, and the noble yet misunderstood Hawk Raiders. The Crimsons target ships near indiscriminately, as long as they look like they have something worth plundering; meanwhile, the Hawks only target ships connected to merchant companies with evidence of immoral activity — nonetheless, travelers are wary of both.

Saltshore

A humble fishing village on the edge of the Wavelands, Saltshore has a tight-knit community of close neighbors. Due to its location, it often finds itself the refuge of shipwrecks and stowaways — including a certain noble pirate named Crowley, who winds up marooned here after a harsh storm.

Tropicharbor

Tropicharbor thrives off trade and tourism, which it gets in spades thanks to its strategic position near the center of the land of Vericitias. It’s also noted for having a sizable beastling population, further spreading the town’s influence thanks to its multicultural reach.

Anchorfell

Anchorfell is perhaps the most successful trading hub in the whole land. At its beating heart is the Oracle Corporation, a massive trading company that’s all but monopolized shipping across Vericitias — though rumors persist of its past, and possibly present, corruption. Anchorfell remained a neutral party during the Eight Years’ War, keeping its role as a supplier for both sides.

THE PEAKLANDS

The home of this land’s Church of the Sacred Flame, the Peaklands is a harsh, frigid, and rugged land. The snowcapped mountains completely surround the region, save for a more open area close to the border with the Mistlands. In this unforgiving environment, many have found solace and support in the church — however, twenty years ago, the church began showing signs of corruption, leaving many disillusioned and lost.

Snowcap Abbey

An abbey town not far from the border with the Mistlands. Many people who have grown unsatisfied with the Church of the Sacred Flame gather here to live and worship instead of the church’s capital, Winterchapel; while the monastery follows the same religion as the church, it is of a different, more tolerant sect than that the increasingly corrupt church propels. Among the monks and nuns here is a cleric named Phaedra, among the people most vocal about the church’s mistakes.

Ridgegate

A militaristic town situated perfectly in the valley between Snowcap Abbey and Winterchapel. This is the home base of the Paladins of the Flame, the church’s elite soldiers. Nobody is permitted to pass through the gate to or from Winterchapel — not without the church’s permission.

Winterchapel

The capital of the Church of the Sacred Flame, and a victor of the Eight Years’ War alongside Spirereach and Bloomcrown. It’s a massive city, built into the basin between mountains. At the very peak of the city is a huge cathedral, the largest belonging to the church. Generally, lower-class citizens live near the bottom of the basin, while high-class citizens live near the peaks. Interestingly, you’ll notice that people’s classes are usually positively correlated with their positions in the church (people with little to no power in the church being of the lower class, while people with high power in the church have a higher standing in the city’s society), to the point where people may struggle to afford their needs if they don't have some sort of position of power. That’s totally not a sign of something wrong, right [sarcastic]?

THE MISTLANDS

The Mistlands get their name from the near-constant rain and fog in the area. It’s a somewhat mountainous region, but not nearly as much as the Peaklands (or any mountainous Octopath region, like the Highlands or Crestlands, for that matter). The region is an industrial center, filled with dense cities and productive factories. Unfortunately, it also finds itself the den of unsavory folk, including an infamous black market and a criminal organization that lives in the shadows.

Cloudport

A bustling city near the coastline, Cloudport is a big trading hub, a place where goods are both made and sold. On the other hand, Cloudport has a rather high crime rate, with everything from burglary to murder being a regular occurrence. It’s a good thing that the scholarly detective, Trixie, is on the case, aiming to help stop this injustice — on the path to solving a mystery she’s been trying to crack for years.

Fogshade

While another big city, Fogshade has a quiet, sinister air to it that even the dangerous city Cloudport lacks. After all, it’s where you’ll find the notorious Black Market, where all sorts of unsavory goods are on sale for hefty prices. Forbidden magic, the services of assassins, weapons and poisons fit to kill — nothing is considered too dangerous or illegal to sell on the market.

Cogsmount

The center of industry in all of Vericitias, countless inventors and merchants make their homes here. From the outside looking in, it seems like a technological paradise, with steam power fueling many aspects of life — and the list continuing to grow — making it a convenient place to live. But the citizens know differently. In the shadows, something rotten lurks, though few can say quite what — and the few who can are often wise enough to keep their mouths shut, else the Desire of Fortune force their silence. The organization has gripped power since very shortly before the Eight Years’ War, but strangely enough, not even Cogsmount’s loss made Desire lose power. In fact, some wonder if Cogsmount’s loss was *purposeful*, if they intentionally sabotaged Riverglen and Oasishaven.

THE AUTUMNLANDS

The Autumnlands is a temperate forest region, with an exceptionally long autumn making up most of the year, alongside short winters and even shorter summers, hence the name of the region. The region is known for being a relaxing countryside with small towns, and is recommended to anyone who tires of the bustling cities of areas like the Mistlands or the Blossomlands. In addition to the Deadlands prior to the Blight, the Autumnlands have consistently been an area of major agricultural output, though with different exports due to the different climate. Ever since the Blight struck the Deadlands, however, agricultural practices have increased drastically throughout the Autumnlands, more and more people relying on these goods now that the Deadlands can hardly produce much of anything.

Hollowvale

A small, quiet town in a hollow at the base of the mountain range leading into the Mistlands and the Peaklands. A waterfall that falls from a mountain spring trickles down into a pond, and then a river, which continues through the Autumnlands all the way to the sea. The town has settled around this pond, using irrigation techniques from it to water their crops and slake the thirst of their people. It’s a calm, quiet place, and a favored vacation spot for people from the nearby Mistlands as a result. The lord in charge of the town is rather strict on collecting tax and debt from the local farmers and workers, however, and it is rumored that he has ties with some shadowy organization in the Mistlands. This doesn’t sit well at all with a seasoned, charismatic merchant named Hanzo, who runs a small antique shop on the outskirts of town — and doesn’t exactly hold that organization, or the lord of Hollowvale, in high regard.

Fenrise

An agricultural town much like its neighbors in the region, this one is unique due to the predictable floods that occur in the area, with it so close to the river and the coast. The town itself is high on a hill to avoid the floods, and the docks on the river and the coast were built to float and take advantage of the tides. Additionally, the flooding creates fertile soil, and the predictable pattern allows for easy farming. Humans and beastlings both live and work here, and have a tight-knit community with one another.

Spirereach

Named for the massive towers that stretch up into the sky, Spirereach is a seat of nobility. The noble bloodline is directly related to the royal bloodline of Bloomcrown, with the current prince being a cousin of Bloomcrown’s current king. A lot of the agricultural production in Spirereach is offered to the noble family as a sort of tax. Interestingly, despite the nobility’s close blood and political relationship with Bloomcrown, they aren’t nearly as beloved by their citizens as their cousins in the Blossomlands, causing tensions to rise between the two branches of the family.

THE BLOSSOMLANDS

A lush, dense rainforest on the southern continent, filled to the brim with life. It’s also a heavily developed region, with some of the biggest cities in the land, aside from the Mistlands. While, for the most part, cities in other regions tend to govern themselves with little political involvement from other city-states, the Blossomlands are slightly different. While the towns are technically considered independent of one another, the largest city, Bloomcrown, has some level of government over the other two cities of the Blossomlands, more as overseers than actual law enforcers or political figureheads.

Bloomcrown

Nicknamed “the crown jewel of the Blossomlands”, Bloomcrown is arguably one of the most powerful city-states in the entire land of Vericitias, if not the most powerful. It was among the victors of the Eight Years’ War alongside Blizzardchapel and Spirereach. It is ruled by a monarchy, and the current king is, comparatively, the most laidback in a long line of strict and stern monarchs, even more so after the war. Though, his daughter is even more progressive, even to the point of drawing ire from her other family members; on the other hand, the citizens of the city absolutely adore her, and her staunch stance on equality between humans and beastlings has led to a larger beastling population in Bloomcrown than ever before. Ever at the princess’s side is the warrior Akiva, a member of the Royal Guard more loyal to the princess than the crown in general — and fiercely loyal, at that.

Petalcreek

A small, idyllic town settled on the large river that cuts through the Blossomlands. It was once a bustling city like its neighbors, Bloomcrown and Lushhart, but was completely razed in the Eight Years’ War by the combined forces of Riverglen and Oasishaven. Even now, eight years later, it’s still in the process of being rebuilt by its survivors. As a result of their past, they can be somewhat judgmental to outsiders, but on the other hand, they have a very tight-knit community.

Lushhart

A primarily beastling settlement, Lushhart is mostly a mining town. The earth beneath the Blossomlands is rich with countless valuable minerals, and Lushhart takes advantage of that for their work and their trade. Of great interest is a cave that was found in one of the mines, filled with colorful, glowing mushrooms. Fungi of the sort have never been seen before, and Lushhart is currently in correspondence with scholars from Clifthall trying to figure out what the mushrooms are.

THE BRUSHLANDS

The Brushlands are a savannah region between the rainforest of the Blossomlands and the desert of the Badlands, on the southern continent. This region and the Badlands both have the largest overall beastling population of all the regions. The towns in this region are generally highly independent, not really engaging with other towns outside, or even within, the region beyond what is necessary. Like the Autumnlands, it is also a rather rural area heavily focused on hunting and farming.

Shrubsteppe

This settlement is almost exclusively populated by beastlings, and is rather isolated from the rest of the world. It rests in a basin between hills with an entrance hidden behind a waterfall; the town is built on winding wooden pathways on the side of the hills, with homes that look similar to hobbit holes built into the earth. This isolation ended up being a good thing for them during the Eight Years’ War, when they were hardly bothered by their warring neighbors, so they continued that lifestyle. In Shrubsteppe, by far the most respected job you can take is that of a hunter, a job that takes years of training and a trial to be considered proficient in. In the Hunter’s Trial, you must first kill a beast to prove your potential, and then explore the world for as long as you’d like to learn what it means to you to be a hunter. Ready and eager to take this trial is Oriel, who has a secondary goal while on his quest: To find his missing sister, who embarked on her own trial three years prior and has yet to return. Alongside him is Hoku, a firebird and the child of the current wardenbeast, who was assigned to go on the quest with him; Oriel's more relaxed nature is a welcome contrast to Hoku's brash and bold personality.

Riverglen

A town between two rivers that eventually join to reach the sea. Riverglen is a city with a mixed human and beastling population, and is unique because they don’t follow quite the same pantheon of gods as the other areas in Vericitias. They believe in a unique religion, forgotten by most and practiced by fewer, in which they worship only four gods who have dominion over different aspects of the world. (As an aside, it is by fighting these four gods that you can unlock the secret jobs, which I’ve yet to figure out at this time.) Unfortunately, the corrupted Church of the Sacred Flame does not take kindly to the worship of “false gods”, which leads to tension between the church and the people of Riverglen, in addition to pre-existing tensions from even before the Eight Years’ War — which Riverglen lost alongside Oasishaven and Cogsmount.

Breezegrave

The newest city-state in all of Vericitias, Breezegrave was created after the Eight Years’ War to honor the fallen, rulers and soldiers and civilians alike. Essentially, the town is a massive memorial; very few people actually live here, only those whose job it is to oversee and expand the place. It is seen as a highly sacred place that you should only visit if you intend to mourn or honor the dead of the war.

THE BADLANDS

The Badlands is a desert region, and alongside the Brushlands, has the largest beastling population of all eight regions in Vericitias. In general, the people of the Badlands highly value art and academia, and firmly believe in a sense of community between people in the blistering, rocky environment.

Canyonsong

Canyonsong is a small town in the Badlands, just west of the Brushlands. This town, like many others nearby, has a mixed population of humans and beastlings. It is primarily notable due to its major cultural and religious influence. Most mythology of Vericitias shys away from even mentioning the Fallen God, Galdera, fearing the name itself is somehow cursed to say, that the story is somehow destined to repeat if retold. Canyonsong, however, is one of the few city-states that openly acknowledges the Fallen's existence. They have murals and stories dedicated to Galdera's fall from grace and eventual defeat at the hands of two different groups of travelers from distant lands and ages past, and an annual festival celebrating his fall. This festival, called the Festival of Spirits, also serves as a way to honor and commemorate the dead. At the center of this festival is the Book of Spirits, a book which contains immense magic power, should it be used, though it is considered a remnant of the past now. A dancer and musician named Octavian has been assigned to handle the Book, along with his two siblings, this year.

Clifthall

Clifthall is home to the most prestigious magic academy in all the land, Clifthall Academy. It was created over a century ago; for a long time, magic academies worldwide only allowed human students to enroll, falsely believing beastling students to be “incapable”. But a group of beastlings from Oasishaven established Clifhall Academy themselves. The work from their students and professors drew eyes from across all three continents. Eventually, beastlings from all over the world came to the school; even humans took interest in the academy thanks to its great standing, and came to study there. Over the decades, Clifthall Academy slowly grew to be respected and well-regarded, leading to less discrimination in magic academies overall, and Clifthall Academy becoming the greatest magic academy known in Vericitias and possibly beyond. The entire city is built around this academy, having lodgings for students and professors, and an absolutely massive library.

Oasishaven

Of all of the settlements with a primarily beastling population, Oasishaven is the largest and most respected. Even though they were on the losing side of the Eight Years' War, alongside Riverglen and Cogsmount, and have had to deal with the aftermath of that, they still manage to hold themselves up high. They have a matriarchal monarchy, and the previous queen, after the loss of the war, retired early to pass on the throne to her rather young daughter at the time. Compared to her mother, the new queen is much less strict, instead ruling with a more gentle, more patient hand. However, some fear that she is almost *too* kind, liable to be taken advantage of; still others believe that such a fear is an outdated remnant of the war.

THE EIGHT YEARS’ WAR

For the final section of this, I wanted to talk about this Eight Years’ War that I keep mentioning throughout my description of the world; as you can see, it’s kind of important to the worldbuilding of Vericitias. I originally wanted to limit what I said about it and only sprinkle in information through other characters’ stories, but I realized that it would get confusing fast if all of the important information was spread so far apart. So I’m going to give a brief description of the war here, but know that this is far from everything and other information will come in time.

To begin, the seeds for the war were actually planted about twenty years prior to the story, when the Church of the Sacred Flame began showing signs of its corruption. Back then, its secondary capital in Dimhearth was still at full power, as the Blight hadn’t hit the Deadlands yet. So, you can thank Blizzardchapel and Dimhearth for being the primary instigators of the Eight Years’ War, as they tried to strongarm their way into more power.

Additionally, there were a lot of other factors leading to the allegiances falling the way they did:

Centuries ago, it was the Church of the Sacred Flame that installed the monarchy in Bloomcrown, and by extension, later, Spirereach. As a result, the Church and the monarchy has always had a good relationship.

Oasishaven and Bloomcrown had a bit of a historical rivalry, due to Bloomcrown’s old discrimination against beastlings, and a past war many decades ago (they haven’t let go of the resulting grudges since).

The Church had great distaste for the alternative gods that Riverglen worshipped, leading to high tensions between the two groups.

Oasishaven and Riverglen are long-standing allies. Oasishaven, much more powerful and influential, would often help Riverglen stand up to the Church; Riverglen, on the other hand, would help Oasishaven by providing varieties of food and supplies that the desert city wouldn't have been able to obtain otherwise.

Desire of Fortune had secured their power over Cogsmount and wanted to spread their influence even further; they viewed the growing Church as a dangerous threat to that power. (Why is it suspected that they sabotaged their allies, then, you may ask? All I can say is that Desire will do anything for power and is willing to change their plans to get it; anything else is too spoilery to say.)

Cogsmount had usually been pretty distant from Oasishaven and Riverglen, but saw a potential for valuable allies with the two of them, and was the one who suggested the alliance.

Tensions rose and rose, until the queen of Bloomcrown was assassinated. While the perpetrator was never caught, it was widely believed that they were connected to Cogsmount’s rulers. The king, in his grief and rage — and desire to protect his rather young daughter, and only heir — sent forces to attack Cogsmount as a result. Immediately, all hell broke loose. War was inevitably declared, sixteen years prior to the story. On one side was Blizzardchapel, Dimhearth, Bloomcrown, and Spirereach; on the other was Oasishaven, Riverglen, and Cogsmount.

As the name of the war implies, it lasted for eight whole years. In that time, the mysterious Blight devastated Dimhearth and the rest of the Deadlands, evening the ground between the two sides. However, eventually, Blizzardchapel, Bloomcrown, and Spirereach simply outlasted the other side, emerging as the victors. As a result, the worldwide power of Cogsmount, Riverglen, and Oasishaven has been stifled. The war finally ended eight years prior to the story.

And the last thing I have to say that I'm not sure where to put is that beastlings are going to be entirely overhauled to be significantly less offensive in their execution (at least, that's the hope, but please tell me if I need to do something more to improve it)! Here's a short list of the things that change off the top of my head, though I may be missing some things as most of this story has simply been stored in my brain:

Remember how weird it was that most beastlings could only ever speak two works at a time except for Ochette? Yeah, well, not the case anymore. Human and Beastling are now considered two separate languages containing both speaking and writing. Like how many humans may not be able to speak or read Beastling, some beastlings you may meet may not be able to speak Human, and some Beastling scripts you find may not already be translated into Human; in these situations, you will need either Oriel (a beastling) or Octavian (a human who grew up among beastlings), both fluent in Beastling, in your party to understand what's being said. (I'm considering adding Trixie to that list as well, because she is a scholar and also spent a lot of time around beastlings, but I'm not entirely sure yet!)

There's more than literally two settlements mostly populated with beastlings! These settlements are also a bit more varied in culture and government. Even among towns that have a primarily human population, you'll likely find a couple of beastlings, as well.

Speaking of variety, I try to treat the beastlings like they're varied and individual people, and that's probably the thing I try to emphasize the most about the overhauled beastlings. I feel like Octopath 2 used the same sort of template for most of their beastling characters, even the NPCs (unquestioningly hospitable, food loving, clueless about the world, sometimes wanting to emulate humans, etc) and I wanted to try straying away from that. There should hopefully be more important, named, and varied beastling characters as a result.

Humans are actually aware of the beastlings' existence instead of being grossly uneducated like the humans in Octopath 2.

The whole thing where beastlings are incapable of experiencing greed thanks to how D'arquest made them is retconned into just a creation myth that's not necessarily true. Makes them more three-dimensional that way, I think.

And that's it for now! I'm not sure when I'll get around to posting more of this, as I'm juggling lots of projects currently, but I thought this would be the best place to start. I hope you enjoyed and feedback is appreciated!

[hel-the-growl]

Cultural Annotations on New Gods: Yang Jian -Part 2-

Part 1

Shen Gongbao was an original character from IOTG not rooted in mythology. In it, he defected from the Chan Sect to assist the tyrannical King Zhou of Shang against the forces of justice. There are several adaptations misrepresenting Shen Gongbao as a leopard spirit, or that he rode a leopard however none of these were in the original text. His white tiger in New Gods is accurate.

His character design is a nod to poet Liu Ling, one of the “Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove”, who was an alcoholic. The poem he recites outside the lighthouse was “Ode to the Virtue of Wine” by Liu Ling.

The concentric circle design of the portal resembles Ancient Chinese jade pendants from the Western Han Dynasty. The recent winter olympic medals are also inspired by the same pendants. It rotates like an armillary.

The stamp on the crate of cosmic gas is that of the White Tiger, one of the Four Symbols of the Chinese constellations, guardian of the cardinal direction of west. The same stamp was on the crates at the gas station, and the teller was servicing at "Yin window" (寅字口). Yin is the third of the twelve Earthly Branches, which correlates with the year of the tiger, hence the tiger symbol.

Yingzhou is based on the Yueyaquan sand dunes in Dunhuang, a cradle of Buddhism in China, located in Northwestern Gansu.

The nearby Mogao Caves famously depict murals of the Flying Apsaras, represented by Wanluo’s dance in the Yingzhou Music Hall. The song the “Ballad of the Luo River Goddess”, was written by Cao Zhi, whose poetry was greatly revered during the Southern and Northern Dynasties where the movie takes place, so the timeline checks out.

Pigsy, is that you?

Mo Lishou mentioned that Yang Jian also used underhanded methods to capture them. This is a reference to the incident in IOTG when Yang Jian deliberately let himself be eaten by his mink, killing it from within and transforming himself into the mink to infiltrate the brothers’ hideout in order to steal Mo Lihong’s havoc umbrella.

Surprisingly, Yang Jian’s title on his arrest form is still “True Monarch of the Pure Source”. His full title is the True Monarch of the Pure Source, Great Heavenly Deity of Justice (Qingyuan Miaodao Zhenjun, 清源妙道真君司法大天神), a status bestowed to him by his uncle the Jade Emperor. Ironic that the god of justice gets thrown into jail.

Prison gates were traditionally guarded by Bi’an (狴犴), the seventh son of the dragon king, a dragon-tiger hybrid. The one behind the pillar should be Bi’an.

The cute bronze dragon at the bell tower is Pulao (蒲牢), fourth son of the dragon king. He is a small four-legged dragon-toad hybrid who likes to scream, and is usually represented on the tops of bells, used as handles.

He is nested on top of the Azure Dragon (青龍 Qīnglóng), another one of the Four Symbols of the Chinese constellations, representing the cardinal direction of east.

The giant beast inside the prison is Kaiming (开明兽), a mythical creature with nine heads from the abyss in Kunlun, described in the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

The Sword of Cutting Immortals belongs to Yuding.

Shen Gongbao refers to Yuding as sect brother. Strictly speaking, they are indeed sect brothers as they were both Yuanshi Tianzun’s disciples from the same generation, and Yang Jian’s seniors.

Shen Gongbao quotes a line from the poem “善哉行” by Cao Pi.

The first time we see Chenxiang’s primordial spirit manifest, it glowed green and was shrouded in smoke due to the influence of Shen Gongbao, holding a dagger and wearing a bamboo hat.

Later when he’s been around Wanluo for a time, it turned pale gold while he gained tendril-like chains, similar to Wanluo’s threads, with daggers on the ends of them.

By the time he was ready to cleave the mountain after having followed his uncle around and learned Nine Turns Mystical Arts, we see the final evolution in the form of a vibrant gold figure that has lost the bamboo hat and now fully embodies a little general.

Jian drops into Chang’an, the Imperial City in the mortal realm in the midst of a civil war during the Jin dynasty. The Eastern Jin dynasty was in near-constant conflict with the northern states for most of its existence. Chang’an, located in present-day Xi’an, has a lot historic significance as the capital of several major dynasties in Ancient China, and is a treasure trove of cultural relics.

Mount Li is a scenic location about an hour’s drive from the Fortifications of Xi’an. A complex of hot springs are located in the area known as Huaqing Pool, likely serving as the basis for Duyue Pool.

This scene is gorgeous.

Wanluo tells the story of King You of the Zhou Dynasty at the Beacon Tower of Mount Li, who was slain in 771 BC. The tower still stands today as part of the Huaqing Palace complex.

Further west is Mount Hua, the sacred mountain known as the "Western Mountain" of the Five Great Mountains of China. Lotus Peak is located on the western side of the mountain.

The paths leading up the mountain involve steep staircases, vertical ascents, and narrow plank trails bolted onto the cliff face, often labelled as some of the most dangerous hikes in the world.

The Nine Turns Mystical Arts (九转玄功) is the unique ability of Yang Jian. It grants him vast, physical durability of undefined limits and nigh-invulnerability to conventional weapons and various magic spells.

This was such a bittersweet moment when he stopped the wind chimes.

The scene where Chengxiang paused at Shen Gongbao’s monument was heartbreaking.

365 gods were canonized at the Investiture Altar of Mount Qi. Shen Gongbao was the last one on the list.

Yuding borrowed the Deity-Binding Chains from his master Yuanshi Tianzun, which were confiscated from Tu Xingsun. Tu Xingsun once used them to bind Nezha, Huang Tianhua, Jiang Ziya etc.

The Yin Yang Scroll belongs to Taishang Laojun, who along with Yuanshi Tianzun and Lingbao Tianzun make up the Three Pure Ones - three highest gods in the Daoist pantheon. In IOTG, Yuanshi Tianzun’s disciple Chi Jingzi also borrowed it to subdue Yin Hong.

The text on it comes from “Taishang Laojun’s sutra of everlasting tranquility” (太上老君说常清静经).

Part 1｜Part 3｜Part 4

[theseventhoffrostfall]

Israel needs to look at Turkey and realize that the west probably wont do anything major if they do raze gaza/palestine and tbh they should have just done it 50 years ago and dealt with the consequences then. But when Turkey wants to do something geopolitically shitty, they don't whine and beg for NATO to tell them it's ok, they just fucking do it, ignore the criticism, take the political punch on the chin, and get back to cooperating with the west. I'd rather not raze the Gaza strip, but if you're gonna do it, you have to understand people will protest that, and trying to lobby countries to suspend the 1st amendment/other equivalents just comes off as extremely petty.

People are gonna make a stink at the UN sure but we all kinda know that if they did go full Manifest Destiny we'd still work with them anyways. It's a brutal as fuck, Sisko level choice but personally, I do think the 2 State Solution has failed and will never work. Fair or not, it is what it is. I don't like how Israel handled it and there's no way to even isolate it in a vacuum either with Western powers, anti-Western powers, and even the concepts of Jewishness/Israeli (a nationality? Ethnicity? Religion?) and Islam/non-western views of nationhood making it fucking impossible to isolate variables on. It all just fucking sucks and I hate it, but if there's ever any chance for peace, the Palestinians either have to be forcibly co-opted into Israeli identities with carrot/stick approaches, resettled elsewhere, or just literally driven into the sea. Ideally offering housing and healthcare and jobs would at least let you get a baseline of what percentage of Palestinians DO want a chance to have a better life and who is a hardliner, and even then you cant just kill al the hardliners. And the whole "they're a sovereign state so we can invade and collectively punish them" but also "they're locked in there like the Warsaw ghetto and we cut their power and deny them food" dichotomy is also maybe a reason they feel like striking back.

And even then it's gonna be generations before we might see any hope of reconciliation. But this was a papercut that festered and rotted and turned gangrenous and at this point you can't just clean the wound and change the bandages, this shit is gonna happen again, and again, and again back and forth. Maybe next time it'll be 10 Palestinians shot, or maybe 100 Israeli civvies, maybe 100,000 die when Iran lets them smuggle in a bomb, who knows.

It kind of reminds me of Dune in that Netanyahu is Paul and he KNOWS what has to be done and he's still too afraid to do it. Not that it's a golden path or anything, moreso that his actions have created something that can't be stopped and applying the brakes now is just making it drag on longer and more messily and he needs to see his ideals through regardless of the cost and push through to the other side. Which again, sucks, and I hate it, but there's no way this can be resolved either without a lot of hard, immediate, violent political change, or running away from that and doing another 50 years of low intensity back and forths.

I'm gonna go ahead and advise you not to make pop culture analogies on a post saying genocide is the only realistically logical option.

[willtheweaver]

hi!! could you drop some worldbuilding/history for a feather in the forest? i remember seeing some of the characters in an oc questionnaire tag and really liking their premise, so i'd love to know more about their world!

Glad you asked.

Let’s see… the world of the story is known simply as the forest to its inhabitants. It is located on a peninsula of land about 30 miles long. Despite the name, it contains quite a bit of open ground in the form of clearings and fields. The geography is also quite diverse, with the north and far east being rocky and comprised of high cliffs and peaks, and in the south are sand dunes and marshland. The west is marked by a wall that separates the forest from whatever lies beyond. On all other sides is a lake. How massive is the lake? From end to end, it is approximately 200 miles, more of a freshwater inland sea really.

Most of the story takes place in the western side of the forest, which is the domain of the foxes. Five villages, and numerous outposts are scattered throughout their lands. On the eastern border are stone markers that divide their territory from that of the birds. Close to thirty eyries exist at the time of the story, each with their own Roost Lord. There is much bad blood that exists between the two communities, as they have warred against each other in the past. During the story, things are quiet, but it’s the sort of quiet that comes before a storm.

[seventeendeer]

I’d like to hear more about the unstoppable sand dune

haha thANK YOU anon for enabling me, I feel the world should know about the killer sand dune. it's so special to me

DISCLAIMER that this is all an ameteur sillyguy’s observations after one (1) day of researching the dune. do not trust my word on the dune. I’m just very excited and I want to talk about a cool thing I learned about. I will link a wikipedia article at the end of this post so anyone who wants to do proper research will have a place to start. this is simply me trying to infect you with excitement for the dune so that anyone who thinks this sounds cool can do their own research.

SO ANYWAY ABOUT THE DUNE !

for context, I live in denmark, which is 1. small, 2. flat and 3. generally very, very low-risk of natural disasters or extreme weather conditions. we generally don’t get big earthquakes or massive wildfires or tsunamis or even all that intense storms or anything like that. this is important to note because it is part of the reason my mind is blown by the giant fucking sand dune that apparently exists up north that used to DESTROY EVERYTHING IN ITS PATH up to and including entire forests and at least one town

the largest chunk of danish land is a narrow peninsula sticking up in a northern direction from germany. because there’s a little small ocean to the east and a fuck-off huge ocean to the west, the wind almost always blows from the western sea across the country, toward the eastern sea.

at one point a few hundred years ago, massive amounts of sand on the west coast just ... got up and left. the harsh wind and lack of vegetation to anchor the sand made it just sort of ... start creeping across the peninsula in the form of a gigantic dune. in a couple more hundred years, it will have fully crossed the peninsula and come up on the east coast.

some fun facts about the Giant Killer Dune:

- again, ate at least one town. the tower of a church is the only remnant of the town still sticking out of the dune.

- there was once an attempt to anchor the dune by planting grasses and pine trees on and near to it. this disturbed the dune’s eco system, however, so the state decided to buy up all the land on and around the dune in order to preserve it and allow it to continue on its path unhindered. the dune has acquired rights

- I can’t help but notice that if the dune continues on its path as predicted, it will eventually destroy roads and other infrastructure connecting the northernmost part of the peninsula to the rest of the country. I’m going to go ahead and assume someone is going to be doing something about that and we’re not just leaving Skagen to go full mad max fury road

- because the sand moves so slowly, the dune eviscerates any natural areas it comes across. it has eaten entire forests. nothing can survive under the sand long enough to see the light of day again. however, because of how dirt works, the dune also leaves behind gaps in the earth that fill with water, creating ponds and lakes, which eventually enable new vegetation to move in and start new densely-vegetated areas. the killer dune is apparently also the lifegiving dune, if you feel like being generous and Very patient

- if you’re less patient, be a bird! the dune is home to and a pitstop for several different types of birds, who have come to depend on it. this part gets me so fucking hyped. imagine being a bird on that dune. he can’t help but feel like his summer house has moved ever so slightly to the right compared to last year. his bird friends tell him he’s being weird but he knows the truth

- and here comes another part that is SO COOL. METAL SAND! THE PALE SAND IS STRIPED WITH METAL SANDS LIKE A PAINTING!! I have distant memories of visiting the dune as a child and using a magnet to draw out dark sand and seperate it from the pale sand. I still have a vial of the metal sand I keep with my rock collection. I have no idea if stealing from the dune is legal or ethical (surely not? there’s a lot of dune but not enough for everyone to take home souvenirs surely ???), but I didn’t realize. I have however treasured this sand for over a decade, which is ultimately what made me decide to look up the dune and learn all this cool stuff in the first place. now that I have an adult brain with adult context for how fucking cool this dune is. the magnetic sand is nicknamed ‘stardust’ by locals that I would very much like to meet and personally congratulate for somehow making the really cool dune even cooler

- its name, Råbjerg Mile, is also metal, but in the badass sense. “rå” = “raw” or “harsh”, “bjerg” = “mountain”, “mile” = “wandering dune.” they really named this thing “giant pile of sand coming to kick your ass”

here’s the english wikipedia link to the dune for anyone curious!!

all jokes aside, I really am so enchanted by this thing. I never even knew giant moving sand dunes like this existed! this is a mini biome that has only existed for a few hundred years and will eventually end the same way it began! and yet it’s become so important to the land and the animals that live and pass through here that people have fought to give it legal protection in the limited time it has yet to exist! I’m so glad it’s being taken care of and protected. what an absolute wonder. I’m so, so glad I took the time to read about it. god. geography you guys !!!!!!!

[masked-fairy]

The world of Diatatus. Four major continents make up the world; Omoris, Titan, Tamohi, and Tomoyo.

Omoris is majority desert, cliffs, and altitude. The Sand Horn (the large desert to the west) is a huge, nearly singular plateau. The western tip hangs precariously over the ocean, but declines all rain that tries to land on it. The southern desert borders the ocean as well, but little life can grow in its hostile sands. Even enterprising mosses and lichens disappear in the dunes.

Titan is so large that it's been split into two main areas (the borders of which are... Hazy to say the least.) West Titan is full of prospering kingdoms that benefit from natural resources like forests, mineshafts, and endemic animals. The Heartland is a dry steppe-desert with several concentrated populations. On the western coast is a few peninsulas, one of which is a curled and diseased kingdom known as the Patchwork City. To the south is The Beard, a massive delta filled with swamps.

South Titan is home to the Lingu, a massive river that runs north to south, being lifeblood to jungles within the landmass. Life can be cramped here, but this area is full of ancestral knowledge. It may be home to the few people that know of this world's history. Islands to the north, known as the Ribs, provide showstopping gemstones and minerals, including those needed for complex inventions.

Tomohi, far to the south, is full of megafauna and microfauna alike. In fact, it's quite uncommon to find any mid-sized animals at all. The steep mountains on the northern coast (larger than any other in the world) protect lush forests and grasslands. The northern desert is also far from unlivable, providing towns for several unique fishing cultures.

Tomoyo is dominated by huge, flat grasslands. The only interruption to this green ocean is a group of mountains in the center of the continent, which surrounds a very prosperous country. In the south, a large inland sea draws in many travelers for its rich diversity of life. Colorful corals, fish, and even whales make their permanent home here.

[karaloza]

Legend of Zelda Theme Park - Gerudo Desert (UPDATED)

At the western end of the Dark World is the entrance to a sandstone canyon which meanders a bit and then debouches onto a lively bazaar. Buildings are constructed from off-white masonry contrasting with brilliantly colored fabrics and mosaics. There are numerous planters containing palm trees and cacti to help direct foot traffic as well as providing bench space and extra shade. Near the center of the plaza is a circular fountain featuring a statue of a woman wielding a sword, surrounded by more vegetation. The outside edge of the area is bounded with facades representing sand dunes, among which can be seen landmarks such as the OoT Desert Colossus and BoTW Gerudo Town. From time to time, an animated figure of a Molduga arches from one sand dune to another like a breaching whale.

Attractions

Nabooru’s Training Course: A combination maze and obstacle course—periodically, the winding corridors offer an opportunity to hone your skills as an elite bandit…but if you don’t feel up to tackling the balance beam, overhead bars, crawl net, or other physical challenge, a normal path continues alongside the obstacle. This is just the beginners’ course—from time to time, you can peek through to a more advanced course where Gerudo make trapeze-caliber leaps over jets of fire, dodge flying darts, and disable booby traps (or fail to do so!). At the end of the maze is a playground featuring more things to climb and jump in, just in case you had any excess energy left.

Gerudo Warriors’ Procession: Taking place at scheduled intervals in the bazaar, a squad of the Gerudo tribe’s most impressive warriors parade through the street to a stage where they demonstrate some of their combat skills.

Skipper’s Time-Shifted Boat Tour: Inspired by the Lanayru Sand Sea from Skyward Sword, this dark ride uses projection mapping, augmented reality goggles, and a bit of motion simulation to create the illusion of riding in a boat through a desert that has been transformed into an ancient ocean, but only in a set radius around the craft thanks to the aura of the Timeshift Stone. Fantastic corals appear and disappear, long-decayed ships spring back into operation only to wither again as the boat leaves them behind, the bleached bones of sea monsters turn into living threats until the robot guide manages to outrun them. The queue includes a few interactive “windows” where the push of a button activates a Timeshift Stone to alter a scene—a massive tree reverts to a tiny sapling in a meadow, a crumbled ruin becomes a bustling fortress in its heyday, etc.

Sand-Seal Rally Race: A high-speed ride along a figure-eight racing track, in a seal-drawn “sand sled.” Watch out when you get to the crossing point—don’t crash with another sled!

Shops

5. Silken Palace: Scarves, shawls, capelets, veils, and other free-flowing clothing and accessories made from scrumptiously colored and patterned fabrics…even sarees! Knowledgeable staff can show how to properly put on your purchases if you need help.

6. Hotel Oasis Spa Shop: A health and beauty shop featuring LoZ-inspired makeup palettes, custom-blended perfumes and colognes, bath salts, soaps, scrubs, massage oils, and other products to pamper your skin after a long day in the desert.

7. Starlight Memories: A jewelry boutique specializing in big, showy styles of earrings, bracelets, necklaces, brooches, and even diadems. Many pieces are inspired by the traditional jewelry styles of the Middle East and South Asia.

8. Sand-Seal Adoption Center: The Sand-Seal Rally Race exits through this shop specializing in plush toys of sand seals and other desert creatures both real and fanciful, with an optional “adoption ceremony” for your special new friend.

9. Miscellaneous Merchandise Booths: Small spaces leased out to small business retailers whose wares are in line with the overall “vibe” of the Bazaar.

Eateries

10. Gerudo Bistro: A café with well-shaded patio seating, featuring a menu of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern entrees and appetizers.

11. Arbiter’s Grounds: An Arabian/Persian/Turkish style coffee and tea bar, harking back to the ancient relationship with coffee enjoyed by the cultures that inspired the Gerudo. Brews are available hot, iced, flavored, even blended with ice cream for a perky smoothie. Or head next door…

12. Kara Kara Creamery: Beat the heat with frozen treats! Ice cream, frozen yogurt, sherbet, milkshakes, and smoothies are all available here, made to order. If you’re with a group, try the Seven Heroines Sundae, with seven “orbs” of different flavors reflecting the virtues prized by the Gerudo: skill, spirit, endurance, knowledge, flight, motion, and gentleness.