#as the proceeding battle will be FULL of waxing and waning

[tangledinink]

Swanatello's memory problems hurt me way more than they should Like wtf I read CAS and LFLS I thought I was more immune to this But no tears are streaming down my face at Swanatello not fully remembering his bros aUgh

I offer you-- the first time Swanatello was able to recognize one of his brothers. And, in the same vein, the first time that Swanatello realized that something was wrong.

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[rosenongrata]

Heart of the Sea

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. A serene jazz songstress slowly makes her way through the artistic ranks of Fontaine—hoping to eventually connect the dots to her past and lost memories through music. And as she always says, "People come and go as the tides of the sea do."

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. cw for injuries and blood in this one!! anais may have had an Accident.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 1348.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. Fluff. Blood & Injuries.

Chapter 2 — Foolish Feelings.

"Hey, Anais, how much tea do we have left?"

It's the start of the work day for Kafka and Anais. It's not as rainy as it was last week, thankfully. It's been sunny more often than not, even the summer heat is beginning to settle in. While it doesn't get too hot in Fontaine, it sure does get humid—sweaty and sticky for everyone…

Kafka often insists on keeping the studio windows open, though, to help battle the beast that is the heat. The soft, salty breezes that waft in from the lake help cool down Dernière Danse Studio…even if it's only a little. She's so glad Anais nor the passing patrons ever mention how she gleams from sweat on stage.

Even when she's sitting down to play an instrument, she still manages to collect quite the amount of sweat drops on her body from singing alone…

"…All we have left is Aquarose for tea," Anais says, her voice bland like a blank piece of parchment. She shuffles through the bar shelves, looking through what they have left. "Mostly just water over here." She scoffs.

"Well, looks like we've been running out of drinks faster since the Chief Justice and the Melusines came over last week…" Kafka laughs wearily.

More expenses to worry about…

"More people." Anais shrugs, straightening her back as she rises again to her full height. "I can steal some more—"

"L-Let's not…" Kafka chuckles nervously and waves her white gloved hands in a "please don't" gesture.

"Alright." Anais lets the offer roll off her shoulders. She wasn't too committed to the idea anyway. "Uh… I can go collect ingredients by hand."

"N-No worries, really. I can go do it this weekend." Her boss sighs and shakes her head.

"…Fine." The bartender brushes it off. She hardly wants to get into an argument, anyway… Arguments remind her too much of court proceedings. How awful.

A big gust of chilly wind rattles the windows, pushing past the velvety red curtains and making Anais' long white hair dance. Her dull grey eyes glance at the windows, watching the thin curtains flutter about. As she gazes at the wooden paned windows, the wind reminds her of her recently gained Anemo Vision. Her eyes flicker down to the soft glow of the vibrant mint-colored Vision before scoffing and shrugging the memory off.

Who would've thought that simply being hired by a small-time songstress would grant someone a dinky little Vision…?

To Anais, Kafka deserves the Vision more than herself or anyone else in this god-forsaken country.

—

That evening, the wind only serves to get colder as the sunset waxes. And as always, people come and go from the quaint, antique establishment—as the tides of the sea do, as Kafka likes to say. Tonight, the mulberry-haired songstress sings her favorite love songs to the tune of a little, fine-tuned lyre (while claiming it's right from Mondstadt.)

As the sunset finally begins to wane in color and vibrance, the four same Melusines from last week come bounding into the building. This time they drag along than none other the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide. He doesn't look even half as perturbed by this outing as the Iudex was. But maybe that's simply Neuvillette's always tired expression to blame.

Once the small group finds a comfortable table to sit at, Anais approaches them with a forced neutral face. She holds a quill pen and notepad, her hands subtly shaking.

"Welcome." She says, "Nice to see you again, girls." Her brows knit for a fleeting moment when she forces her voice to sound sweeter.

"Hello!" The four Melusines wave.

"…We don't have much to serve tonight. Only Aquarose tea and water. Sorry to rain on your parade." Anais blinks; her mouth a thin line that forces itself to not turn upside down in distraught.

"That's no problem," Sedene reassures. "Let's have some water?" She looks to her fellow Melusines, who all nod in agreement. "What do you want, Duke?" She looks up to the tough-looking man.

"…I'll try that Aquarose tea. I've never heard of it before." Wriothesley smiles a little at the girls (who had stuck stickers to his back earlier without his knowing.)

"Sure. Four water. One tea." The bartender nods before quickly departing back to her usual area at the tattered wooden bar.

"Hmm…" He hums, icy eyes narrowing at the woman stride away at a rather quick pace—one certainly too fast for such a small place. What if she had run into something?

"What's wrong?" Menthe asks, immediately noticing his thoughtful demeanor.

"Oh, nothing. Don't worry about it." He shakes his head, his salt and pepper locks bouncing with the motion. "She seems familiar, that's all." He shrugs.

"Oh, okay." She shrugs before her head snaps to watch Kafka's performance.

When Anais overhears the very brief conversation about her "familiarity," she shatters a glass cup in her hand. The noise from her grip shattering the cup is audible… Too audible. It makes the attending group jolt in surprise. The five of them are already rushing to the bar counter to check on her… Only to see her hand grasping sharp shards of glass and crimson blood seeping through her tightened fingers.

"Haha. Whoops." She says stiffly.

"Whoops?!" Muirne gasps, "We should get you checked out—!" She waves her hands back and forth frantically.

"…It's okay." She lies, but truth be told, she hardly feels the pain.

Nothing can really compare to the pain of prison, anyhow.

"It isn't okay, on the contrary." Wriothesley interjects, "Let me help pick up the shards. Where's the broom—" He offers, face stern and hardy.

"I said it's fine." And then she suddenly collapses onto the floor with a loud thump when she looks down at her bloody hand.

That's when Kafka finally arrives at the scene, holding up her sleek maroon dress as she rushes over. She sighs shakily, her spare hand wiping the sweat from her brow.

"I'm so sorry, all of you…" Kafka apologizes with a weary, weak smile. "I'll take care of her…" She shakes her head.

"Let me help." Wriothesley insists, "Girls, can you get home? It'll be a while." He glances down at them.

"You sure, Duke?" Sedene whispers, "We want to help too…"

"It'll be fine with the two of us." He smiles, patting the small Melusine's head.

"Alright…" Sedene nods, "Let's go home. Maybe next week…?" She hightails it out of the studio with her friends.

"Alright, Duke… Can you clean up the glass? I'll bring her upstairs to take care of the wounds." Kafka offers.

He readily agrees, "Of course."

After gaining the broom, he begins to clean up the mess of glass and blood. Not the first time he's ever dealt with blood, thankfully. But it seems like it was her first time… After all, she fainted at the sight of the rosy wounds.

Meanwhile, Kafka takes her upstairs to treat the self-inflicted wounds. Once done cleaning and wrapping up her hand, she leaves Anais on her own bed in the loft to rest for a while. Returning to the first floor, she notices Wriothesley finishing up his duty to clean.

"I'm so sorry about all that, Duke…" Kafka apologizes with a soft sigh.

"It's alright. But, I can't say I've seen someone faint at the sight of blood before." He shrugs, putting the broom away.

"She may not look like it, but Anais is a fragile young lady. She's had a rough time…" She shakes her head, a frown prints on her face.

"…Anais?" He blinks rapidly on repeat, that name is all too familiar. It leaves an almost bittersweet taste in his throat when he utters her name. But, he keeps his expression neutral enough to betray his emotions.

"Mhm." She nods, "I'll talk to her later about all…this. She needs plenty of reassurance and the occasional push to keep going, that's all. She's an oddball, but I like oddballs." She chuckles lightly.

(Anais…) He glances at the stairs that lead up to Kafka's apartment loft, (Is it really you?)

[celebritynewsinusa]

Navigating Choppy Waters: Ambyr Childers and the Unvarnished Truth of Co-Parenting

The complex landscape of co-parenting often involves constant negotiations, setting boundaries, and striking a delicate balance. This reality is notably shared by actress Ambyr Childers, who recently opened up about the turbulent dynamics of her co-parenting relationship with ex-spouse, film producer Randall Emmett.

The Varied Faces of Co-Parenting

As Childers, 35, and Emmett, 52, juggle the responsibilities of raising their daughters London, 12, and Rylee, 9, their differing parenting styles sometimes lead to conflict. "Our methods often clash, and the journey waxes and wanes," Childers conveyed during an interview with the Daily Mail. "There are months of smooth sailing, followed by months of choppy waters." Persisting through these challenges, Childers asserts her unwavering dedication to her children, stating, "Co-parenting can be arduous, but I refuse to back down. I will consistently work on the relationship for the sake of my children."

Keeping Children at the Forefront

Childers emphasizes that the well-being and happiness of her children always take precedence, which assists in navigating the challenging seas of co-parenting. "I prioritize my children above all else. This mindset often helps when negotiating disagreements and deciding what battles to fight," she said.

The Evolution of a Marriage

The couple wed in 2009 and celebrated the birth of their first child, London, in 2010. Rylee followed in 2013. The couple's relationship started to unravel in 2015, with Emmett filing for legal separation. By 2017, the divorce proceedings were finalized.

The Delicate Dance of Communication

Despite the turbulence, Childers and Emmett restrict their interactions to matters concerning their children, a strategy aimed at maintaining accountability. Yet, their divorce introduces new layers of complexity as the children seek answers to their difficult questions. "Explaining to my children that two homes can sometimes be better than one is challenging," Childers admitted. "Shielding them from the reality while teaching them how to respect and treat others has been the toughest part of my journey."

Legal Battles and Accusations

In December 2022, a Los Angeles County Superior Court issued a temporary restraining order against Emmett following allegations of "pedophilia" and "child endangerment." The order, however, was dismissed in January due to insufficient evidence. Despite these obstacles, Childers continues her co-parenting journey with determination and resilience. "At the end of the day, we have beautiful, healthy children," she affirmed, demonstrating the driving force behind her perseverance.

Finding Support in Unlikely Places

In an unexpected twist, Childers has found an ally in Lala Kent, Emmett's ex-fiancée. The two women have fostered a friendship, despite their past challenges with Emmett. "We've both been through a lot," Childers stated, reflecting on their shared experience, "and we are managing to navigate these troubled waters for the well-being of our children." Co-parenting, while fraught with challenges and complications, ultimately centers around the children's welfare. The story of Ambyr Childers serves as a poignant reminder of this – that children, despite the ups and downs, must always come first.   Read the full article

[nemowritesstuff]

Wingless Dragon Race Introduction: Amiriad

Wingless Dragon Tag: @malaykawrites @madammuffins @kaatiba @mvcreates @starlitesymphony, @dove-actually, @waterfallwritings, @donovyn--nox

I haven’t talked much about the Amiriad, and that’s because there isn’t one on the crew of the Wingless Dragon, so I didn’t feel the need to. But since I’m now involving the Amiriad in a plot point, it was time to solidify the race.

It feels like there’s a lot more history for them than any other race, but that may be because they were an idea I had for something different that I repurposed for this universe. Hurray for recycling!

As the story is on its first draft, all content is subject to change. Under a cut because it’s 1900 words.

Amiriad are an insectoid species from the planet Chikasact. They value devotion to the hive over everything and are always eager to engage in battle.

Description

Amiriad stand on four legs with two arms, a thorax, and a head. They are generally around five to six feet tall with a dark brown exoskeleton. They have four claw-like pincers for hands and three claws for feet. Their heads are oval shaped and end in a single set of pincers in front of a small mouth. Amiriad eyes are large compound eyes that can see in the most amount of colors of any GF race. Amiriad do have a set of antennae, and their primary use is smelling. Built for combat with a hardened exoskeleton and lean muscles, an Amiriad can run almost 8km/h on four legs and 10km/h on six.

Amiriad are carnivores, eating any meat they can get their hands on. While Amiriad attempt to eat twice daily, they can last months without eating or drinking if needed. They cannot process vegetation at all. In fact, too much plant products in an animal's stomach can render it inedible. Despite their restrictive diet, their bodies are able to process most venoms and poisons faster than it can harm them, rendering them nearly immune to even large doses of toxins.

In combat, Amiriad typically wield a weapon with their arms. They prefer melee combat, but can use guns just as effectively. Their exoskeleton is strong enough to protect them from general threats, while advanced armor is nearly as strong as a starship's hull. Skilled warriors can split their arms into four, allowing them to wield more weapons. In order to use four arms in combat competently, an Amiriad must train for several years.

Amiriad are born from an egg, where they are ready to join the hive as workers. Young Amiriad are given a short time to take classes to learn about the galaxy before being thrust into service. As such, maturation is considered two years old. Adult Amiriad serve a small stint in the military before either continuing military service or leaving to pursue other work. They can either specialize in one job or train in multiple jobs, such as miner, hunter, soldier, diplomat, police, etc. A select few Amiriad train to become queens, but the selection process is thorough and the training rigorous, leading to rarely more than a handful of queens being trained in a year. Most Amiriad die before reaching old age, but those that do tend to live no later than fifty years.

Society

Amiriad are a collective hive, devoted to the hive and built around the military as a central pillar of society. Basic service is mandatory. Advanced training is given to those who prove themselves, while others attempting to join risky or prestigious battalions train themselves almost to their own death. After their mandatory serves, about half of the Amiriad join some other job dedicated to helping the hive. Builders, traders, engineers, doctors, and even teachers all exist to further the hive's interest and bolster the strength of the military.

Their devotion to the hive is so ingrained it is treated as a religion. The Amiriad call it Duty, and while many humans would describe it more as a cult than a religion, it is the officially recognized religion of the Amiriad. Duty is the most prominent religion among the Amiriad, but they are some also interested in Tichon (the religion), Humanity's pagan religions, and the Yur's old beliefs. 

History

In the beginning, there were twelve major factions vying for control of Chikasact. After almost three hundred years of war, where each faction's control waxed and waned, several key alliances changed the entire landscape of the planet. The number of factions dropped to four. The smallest faction, an alliance between the bold warriors of the Kitch and the masterful engineers of the Tikitik, prepared to unleash new weapons of war: the airplane. Thanks to the Kitch-Tikit aircraft, the other factions quickly fell under their thumb.

Faced with the possibility of an alliance breaking down, the leaders of the Kitch and Tikit agreed to dissolve their factions in favor of a singular faction. They mixed hives in order to become one single people. However, neither the Kitch nor Tikit wanted to have the first High Queen of Chikasact to come from the opposing faction, despite their apparent integration. They needed someone without loyalties to one or the other; they needed an outsider.

They needed Iktuit, the sole Queen of the Diskt.

The Diskt-the first faction to be bombed into near oblivion by the Kitch-Tikit-was always a small faction. The Diskt never fully regained their strength after their defeat, but maintained their independence as an ally of the Kitch and Tikit. This is different from every other larger faction, which were either absorbed into either the Kitch or Tikit or all of their queens, and thus their lineage, were killed. As the sole queen of the only ally of both the Kitch and Tikit, Iktuit of the Diskt was the perfect choice for peace.

This peace did not last. Soon after being crowned High Queen, Queen Iktuit declared a civil war on her subjects, throwing the entire planet into turmoil again. The reason? Iktuit hated both the Kitch and Tikit for how they destroyed her home and slaughtered her people, so she forced them to destroy the united world they had created.

After the declaration of war, several other queens looking to gain power also declared war on each other. The entire planet descended into war once again, except instead of battles being fought along faction borders, cities split and destroyed themselves. Queen Iktuit saw the chaos she created and reveled in it, joining battles just to ensure no side gained the upper hand.

The Iktuit Civil War did not last long. Queen Iktuit, in her attempt to keep both sides weak, wiped out the majority of both the Kitch and Tikit generals and queens in months. This display of power won her the support of many Amiriad. What few opposed her fell to the Iktuit's loyalists.

As the dust settled, only one nation remained, and Iktuit, the Bloody Queen, ruled.

Queen Iktuit immediately set about reforms, creating the modern Amiriad government. Instead of trying to strip power from her people, she encouraged everyone to take as much power as possible. This, combined with an emphasis on the betterment of the hive at all costs, meant the strong would take control in order to help-not destroy-the weak. With Queen Iktuit's passing, none other again claimed to be her equal. Instead, a council of generals and queens serve the High Command and attempt to match Iktuit's brilliance in both war and peace.

When the Galactic Federation first encountered the Amiriad, the Amiriad sent scouts to determine the GF's military might. The GF had a barebones militia that served more as a deterrent for criminals than an actual military fleet. The Amiriad determined that there was no point in engaging them in war. The GF welcomed the Amiriad with open arms, and the Amiriad quickly went to work redesigning the GF's militia to be a full-blown military force, with Amiriad making up over seventy percent of the armed forces.

The Amiriad found first contact with the Sheta and Humans to be a memorable day. The Sheta, masters of medical technology, intrigued the Amiriad; the Humans and their war-filled past looked to be a staunch ally. The Amiriad were just as surprised as the rest of the Galactic Federation when the Humans chose not to join and instead form an alliance the GF. However, the alliance did allow for the Humans and Amiriad to train with each other and practice with war games.

Relations between the Amiriad and Humans grew tense when a human joined the Amiriad's Arena. The Amiriad sent disgraced military personnel and convicted criminals to the Arena fight for entertainment and honor. A human managed to work her way into the Arena, due to a technicality in the rules. This human proceeded to beat Amiriad after Amiriad in individual combat. The Amiriad were confused by such a feat. How could a squishy human with far fewer limbs beat the armored Amiriad with such constancy?

The lone Human inspired other humans to join the Arena. The other humans were not as skilled, but their inclusion led to some Amiriad calling the Arena tainted by their presence. The Amiriad Champion, however, welcomed the new challengers. The Amiriad, forced to accept the humans, kept their growing resentment behind closed doors.

The spark came when the first Human Combatant managed to secure a fight against the Amiriad Champion. The battle ended before it began. The Combatant spoke with the Champion, wondering if the Champion knew that their old commander set them up for failure to force them to join the Arena. The resulting conversation led to a schism in the Amiriad that lasted several days as the Champion searched for the truth. The Champion learned the truth and killed his former commander for impugning his honor for personal gain.

Despire the Combatant being right, many of the Amiriad military commanders felt human intervention in their internal politics went to far. With growing pressure from those who could now voice their resentment of humans in public, the Amiriad demanded the Humans surrender the Combatant for Amiriad punishment for their involvement in civil unrest. Humanity refused. The Amiriad declared war on Humanity.

The Galactic Federation stepped in immediately. After much tense discussion, both the Humans and Amiriad agreed to keep war outside of Galactic Federation space, not to involve the other Galactic Federation races, and limited on what weapons could ethically be used. This war ended with Humanity gaining the upper hand and forcing the Amiriad to surrender. The defeat broke the Amiriad's pride.

Beaten, the Amiriad planned to leave the Galactic Federation. The Tichon convinced them not to, but the Amiriad still retreated out of GF controlled space and returned to their home planet.

In the Galactic Federation

Amiriad are not a common sight in the modern Galactic Federation. Few supply ships travel into Amiriad space, and even fewer Amiriad ships travel in the Galactic Federation's jurisdiction. What Amiriad that are seen are usually outcasts from Amiriad society or serve as representatives in the GF.

Relations between the Amiriad and all the races are still strong. Even Humanity, once their enemy, are happy to negotiate and trade with the Amiriad.

Bonus Facts

Amiriad don't really have pronouns as humans do. They are always referred to by their rank. Language technicians from the Amiriad have decided that masculine pronouns are used when referring to them in Inglo-Russian, and created a couple new word in Chikti specifically for when humans use pronouns.

It is believed Queen Iktuit was the first Amiriad to use four-armed combat in war. The fighting style is informally referred to as the "Queen's Fury" fighting style, thanks to this belief.

Tichon can use a Amiriad's egg sack. The resulting children display a mix of Tichon and Amiriad traits, but the children never live past a year, so there are no hybrids known to exist. The Sheta took particular interest in this, but Amiriad and Tichon governments, as well as the Galactic Federation, forbade any investigation into this phenomenon.

[sparxwrites]

so um, I don't know about anyone else here on this blog but I saw the playlist you made for that LARP and I'm like so honestly extremely morbidly curious about it and would love to hear more about it or at least get some kind of overview, I understand if you want to keep it private tho

i mean… the larp preparatory document is a full 14 pages, and the larp ran for maybe five or six hours, so i can’t provide you with the full document and summary (like i said, this larp was created and written from scratch, and it’s something i’d like to run again if possible, so i’m reluctant to give out a link to the document - if we’re friends, message me and i’ll see, but otherwise i’m afraid it’s staying private for now at least).

i borrowed a lot of the aesthetic / setting stuff from the dresden files, the matthew swift series, urban magic yogs, british fairytales, and white wolf’s changeling rpg. i borrowed a lot of the rules and mechanics from “end of the line”, “new world magischola”, and various blogs about rules and safety mechanics in nordic larps in general. it was, essentially, about twenty five of my friends in the alps, down by a stream, running around and getting sunburnt and scaring the inhabitants of this tiny village - so it was very informal, the participants weren’t pre-selected by anything other than “on holiday with me”, and the whole attitude towards it from the participants was very… ah, lax and gung-ho, shall we say, which meant it maybe wasn’t taken as seriously as it should have been.

the basic idea was that each faction - humans (hedgewitches, formal magicians, urban sorcerers), dwarves, elves (regular and dark), changelings, summer court, and winter court - had the overarching goal of working to resolve whether the hunt would go ahead or not, but each faction had their own secret assigned goals, and each individual had self-set goals and a secret, so there was a lot of politicking. mostly it was people talking, arguing, making speeches… there was some innovative magic-casting, a bit of drama when a hedgewitch tried to attack the fae (shoutout to the human players for coming up with anti-fae organisations with catchy names and slogans Alarmingly quickly tbh), a fae getting murdered, and everything just… exploding into a shitstorm really, in the end, as it was supposed to. the accords were shattered into smithereens, the fae were gonna go ahead and hunt, the changelings had mobilised with weaponry from the human army to take out the hunt. the dark elves got fucked over because they weren’t specific enough in making a contract with the fae… i think the dwarves just sort of ran off after acquiring some strange glowing artefact they had decided was the only thing they really cared about. the elves brokered immunity from the fae like gloriously self-serving bastards. the urban sorcerer willingly sold himself into effective slavery. it was pretty wild.

it was a lot of fun, really. there’s a lot of stuff i’d change if i did it over - but as someone who’s run a few rpgs now, and a larp oneshot along with inheriting a longer-form larp, it’s… kind of always a learning experience, every time you do it. and i would like to do it over, ideally with more planning and prep, and more dedicated players (i think demanding people come with proper costumes, and charging a nominal entry fee, would go a long way to making sure people took it seriously - but that also means i’ve got to ensure my production value is a lot higher, so, pros and cons i guess). i’ve got another nordic larp i’d like to run, too, tho it’ll be a while before i run that (ideally, i need a desert for that, too, which the uk is notoriously light on, so…)

but. yeah! here’s the summary / hook for the larp that i used, if you’re curious and want an idea of the sort of aesthetic i was working with:

It’s been twenty-five and a half years since the Accords were signed, almost to the day. Twenty-five and a half years since both mortals and fae met on the yule solstice, under the auspice of the Winter Court, to agree to peace – an end to the practice of changelings, of sending cold iron through to the Faerie, of the endless battling and bloodshed on both sides of the liminal. Though the years since then have been far from entirely peaceful, the Accords have held. Fae and mortals have largely coexisted in cities across the nation, moved freely through the liminal between the mortal world and the Faerie, and observed solstice celebrations in relative harmony.

This summer, however, the solstice is different.

It is the first since the Accords to fall on a full moon – and whilst other races prepare for their own celebrations, the fae are demanding that a Hunt be allowed. Solstices are a celebration of life and death and rebirth, they say, as is the waxing and waning of the moon. The intersection of both is a sacred time. A time of sacrifice. It is in accordance with the Old Laws, they say. Blood must be spilled.

All attempts at overarching, nationwide negotiation have, despite the relative civility of fae-mortal relations in comparison to before the Accords, failed dismally. On this one point, this one, ancient tradition, it seems the fae will not budge – and neither will the mortals. They refuse to allow the fae free reign to sweep through their cities and countryside in a whirlwind of revelry and bloodshed, as they have done in decades past.

Fortunately, almost every region, province, or city in the country has managed to negotiate its own, individual agreement on the subject. The almost, however, is crucial. [Our region] is the only region that has been unsuccessful – and the pressure is on to find a solution.

Now, the day before the solstice, a summit has been called in the ancient town of [our town], in a last-ditch attempt to reach an agreement. Representatives from every race have been called from around the region to attend Castle [house we were using], along with an impartial party to act as judge and preside over the proceedings – the Drac of Malmonte. Humans, dwarves, and elves are sending diplomats, negotiators, scholars, and warriors, anyone who might be able to provide a solution. A delegation of free changelings have also been invited, and have reluctantly agreed to attend. And, of course, the Fae Courts will be present, in all their glamour and finery and alien, terrifying beauty, with the Mab and the Titania at their heads and their knight and other lords, ladies, and lieges following close behind.

There is more riding on this summit than just one Hunt in a remote département of France, however. The lives of local mortals, the continued presence of the fae in this region of the mortal world, the freedom of the changelings still held captive by the local fae – and, potentially, the future of the very Accords themselves – hang in the balance. The peace that the Accords have brought is a delicate, brittle thing. One major incident may be enough to bring decades of political efforts crashing down, and throw the country back into the darkness of constant war once more.

There are other forces at work here, too. Old rivalries boil beneath the surface of the political landscape, and though the Hunt is the most pressing issue, every race and faction has their own angle to play. Every individual in the room has their own agenda. The Summit is little more than a pit of vipers, but, somehow, a solution must be found amidst the snakes. And it might be up to you to find it.

Good luck, and may the Goddess’s blessing be with you. After all, you’re most likely going to need it…

[Drawing inspiration from The Dresden Files, the Matthew Swift series, White Wolf’s Changeling, traditional fae, faerie, and sidhe mythology, and various little bits and pieces of writing I’ve done, The Wild Hunt is a character-focused, Nordic-style LARP about politics, social conflict, The Greater Good, modern magic coloured by ancient tradition, and what happens when mortals bump up against ancient creatures with an utterly alien system of ethics. It’s a little experimental, incredibly untested, very firmly play-to-lose. It’s gonna be Spicy, my guys.]

[novaris-adventures]

Galbados (Day 22)

The Sky!

In the sky of Galbados burns a bright sun that breathes life to all things within the country during the day. The night sky glitters and twinkles from millions of stars. Galbados recognizes six different constellations; The Fighter, The Breaker, The Healer, The Liar, the Provider, and the  Finder. Each of these were talked about in the day of the Religion and Cosmology. 

The moon rotates through a full waning and waxing over the course of thirty days. When the moon is full and all the stars and constellations come out is a time for festivities; this is called the Chudais Drasthek. When all paths become one and is a time for unity. This rarely happens and is only said to have happened three times in Galbadocian history; Once when the armies of revolution fought the final battle; once when the King Erik VII was born (and then proceeded to bring Galbados into unprecedented prosperity), and the last happened when the triplets(Yelena, Yaqar, and Yosif) of the Tomiche family was born.

A solar eclipse only happens once every sixty years; and a lunar eclipse happens once every hundred years.