#golden settlement miner

[flame-shadow]

Ant Mines Bug Fables NPC Collab [5/23]

Background - @motheatencrow Editor - @flame-shadow

Character Credits Diana - @kuoddo Vivi - chibiscuit Mine Overseer - enrique2205 Miner - enrique2205 Nessa/Sleepy Ant - @coozycoolz Mystery Ant - @flame-shadow Golden Settlement Miner - jabbernabber Far Grasslands Miner - @sts-puelle Rubber Prison Miner - lamverykarpy Forsaken Lands Miner - @milatheartsy Metal Island Miner - jabbernabber

[click here to see the entire collection]

[whencyclopedia]

History & Mining Culture of the Ore Mountains

The Ore Mountains (Erzgebirge) on the border between Germany and the Czech Republic is a region rich in history and culture connected to the mining industry. For centuries the cities on both sides of the mountain range had sustained themselves and flourished by the extraction of tin, copper, zinc, uranium, and most importantly silver. Even though the mines are now closed the mining culture and heritage is still widely celebrated and visible for visitors, with the hammer and chisel motif on many buildings in the different mining towns.

The rich mining heritage of the region was recently inscribed on the UNESCO world heritage list (July 2019 CE), with sites on both sides of the border. On the German side, in the Free State of Saxony, the cities of Freiberg and Annaberg-Buchholz has much to offer in educating visitors about the mining industry, both from the Middle Ages and more recent times and how this intensive industry shaped the lives and culture of the people living there. A visit is definitely recommended for anyone interested in mining history, early industrialization or for those who seek to experience an authentic German Christmas market.

Freiberg

Freiberg, a one-hour train ride from Dresden, traces its history back to 1168 CE. At that time the forest region was under the control of the Margrave of Meissen. A silver ore was discovered close to the small settlement Christiandorf and lead to the establishment of the city of Freiberg, which got its name from the mining rights belonging to the “free miner”. The mining industry became a very important source of income for the Margrave of Meissen, Otto II (r. c. 1156-1190 CE), known later as Otto the Rich. A large statue of the town's 'founder' can now be seen at the main square of the historic city center. Freiberg's importance and wealth increased rapidly after the discovery of silver, and it remained the economic center and mint of Saxony until the 16th century CE. The mining industry continued in the Freiberg region for 800 years until the mines were finally closed in 1968 CE.

Today Freiberg is a lively and charming city with many exciting sites to see, amongst other the Town Hall from the 15th century CE, and the Cathedral of St. Mary, first contracted in 1180 CE as a Romanesque basilica, the current building dates to c. 1500 CE. On the south side of the cathedral, you can visit a part of the old church, The Golden Gate, a richly ornamented sandstone portal from 1230 CE.

Even though the town was destroyed by fire several times and suffered during the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648 CE), much of the medieval town is still standing. Walking around in the historic center, one architectural feature is especially remarkable: the Gothic patrician houses with very high and steep pitched roof constructions. The main square, Obermakt, is definitely worth a visit, where you will see both the statue of Otto the Rich and the beautiful Town Hall. On the north side of the square, you can also marvel at a gate with intricate carvings depicturing the miners hard at work.

It is impossible to visit this city without being drawn towards the rich mining history and culture. To learn more, visitors are recommended to spend a couple of hours in the Freiberg City and Mining Museum. Located in a stunning late Gothic building, it is one of Saxony's oldest museums, established in 1861 CE. The museum is filled with tools, art, photographs, and other objects connected to work in the mines throughout the ages or the culture that flourished thanks to the mining industry. In addition, no one should leave without a visit to the Freudenstein Castle, where the mineral exhibition Terra Mineralia is on display with over 3,500 minerals, precious stones, and meteorites. The exhibition is presented by the Technical University Bergakademie Freiberg, the oldest university of mining and metallurgy in the world, and is a real treasure trove filled with gems from all over the world.

Continue reading...

[dailyoverview]

Neve Zohar is a desert oasis town on the southwestern shore of the Dead Sea. Surrounded by turquoise waters and golden hills, the Israeli settlement attracts visitors from around the world who seek healing and relaxation in its therapeutic mineral-rich waters. Neve Zohar has 52 permanent residents.

31.152222°, 35.365278°

Source imagery: Maxar

[hangingoffence]

i simply must ask u about ur god oc, they're too cool not to! u've said they're angry and killing their siblings, any reason why? also, which battle/fight they've had is ur favorite so far? and! where does the horse come from? is it a deity/mystical as well?? and how did u come up with their design?

hahaaa you have walked into my trap and NOW you get a short history of my own fantasy world muwhahha

ANYWAY like all my ocs they too are mostly made bc of my own amusement and bc i wanted a character i could pour all my power fantasies to. But they too have been on the back burner of my mind for quite a while. and i have not written down any of this ever so it might be a little messy.

so the character who I have not named because that's too intimidating of a task is a part of a larger scale world that ive been "working" and building up step by step for a while.

None of the things in there don't have any names bc once again it's too taunting of a task, but anyway the world consists of two major continents, the much bigger northern and the smaller southern continents. They both are completely separated and only are accessible by the sea between them. The southern landmass is where 90% of the population live in and is much more habitable especially in the ares near the ocean. The northern continent on the other hand is mostly covered in dense pine forests and deserted tundra. Only one collection of closely knit cities and towns live there right in the edge of the sea line. Although its extremely cold climate and inhospitable areas, it is very rich in it's natural resources of minerals and iron. Which are highly sought off by the people in the south. So there developed a trade route through the ocean between the two continents and inevitably the single settlement of miners in the north developed into a town and then a city with it's own governance.

But besides the natural resources the south had another reason to have keen interest in the desolate place. Because it was told that in the high mountains far far north once lived a nation that prospered well in the cold harsh lands. They were said to be born warriors who could split mountains with their bare hands and they were rumored to protect the southern parts of the land and be the first line of defense against the gods that were popping up from the north. There is still some remains of their culture and architecture hidden within the land.

One of the major cities in the south(i used to just call it the golden city bc of their immense trade wealth) believe themselves to be decedents of these people. Their want to conqueror these areas and see and return to their "own land" and the hard push pack from the north ended up to them committing to a long lasting war. Naval battles dominated due to the advanced shipbuilding and experience the trade routes had brought to both sides. But they did also fight on land, mostly raiding each other's camps and settlements or ambushing and only in occasion fighting head to head in field battle.

ok ok now we get to the actual character. So the character is actually a decedent of a male warrior from the ancient nation from the north and a Goddess. So it makes them a demigod, which grants them abilities like heightened senses and high power and stamina. Also because their mother is a Goddess of nature they have a born familiarity with nature and how to live and survive in it. Their horse was a gift from their mother and it was born from the earth itself. So it too has the natural instincts of a god and the strength and power too. They were both bonded from a young age and can feel each other's presence from miles away.

And their siblings. They all come from the same father but different mothers (all Goddesses). There's total of three siblings including them. They are all highly trained and able. The reason for why they killed both their siblings was bc one of them served under the military of the golden city and they met on the battleground and uknow how that goes. The other sibling is still a bit ambiguous for me lmao but the important thing is that they killed them ;)

Also their anger manifests in a form of discontent. They aren't very social and almost never talk. Having been raised in isolation of the far north taiga by their father. Also being hundreds and hundreds of years old they don't bother with people that much. They fight within the ranks of the northern city only because they don't want anyone disturbing the nature far up the mountains, where their home and ancestry used to be.

And the designs! Well mostly I take random inspo from pinterest and then just smash all the things I like into one. Also with their design specifically I made the armour from copper only bc I thought the colour of the metal was the most interesting looking<333 Also the helmet they wear is somewhat inspired by the barbute helmet with the t-shaped gap for the eyes and the nose. But bc I wanted them to remain faceless the gap where you should see the face is just black, which I think brings a little more mystery and distance to everything. Also the part that protects the cheeks are supposed to be flaps that you can see in many non-visor helmets from Romans to vikings. Also the shape of the ornament on top of the helmet is taken from Roman and Greek helmet plume ornaments but with no feathers. And the rest of the armour is meant to be very decorated I just never draw all of it bc damn no thanks.

whoah anyway thanks for asking em <333 MWUHA MWUAH

[ilearnedthistodaysblog]

#1077 What is fool’s gold?

What is fool’s gold? It is most commonly pyrite, which has a similar appearance to gold. The expression “fool’s gold” came into existence in the 1820s. The knowledge that there were other metals that looked like gold has probably been around for centuries, but it was only in the 1820s that gold rushes became a thing. Gold prospectors would come looking for gold and they would find pyrite, which looks like gold, and think they had found gold. After a while, it became known as “fool’s gold” because only a fool would think that it was gold. Gold has been mined for thousands of years, but the concept of a gold rush is fairly recent. The very first gold rush was in 1799 in America, but gold rushes didn’t really become a common thing until the 19th century. That is because communications and transportation had to evolve to a point where people could hear about a gold find and travel to it in a reasonable amount of time. Before the telegraph, the railway, and steamships, by the time people heard about a gold find, the gold would probably all have gone, and even if it hadn’t, they couldn’t get there in time. There is a story that Fool’s Gold was named after Queen Elizabeth I of England, but I can’t find any actual proof of it. A British explorer called Martin Frobisher and his acquaintance Michael Lok sailed to North America. They wanted to found a settlement and mine for gold, but they couldn’t find any real gold. They believed it was there, they just needed money. They found fool’s gold, a form of pyrite, and took it back to Queen Elizabeth in England. She was convinced they had found gold and funded their voyages. I cannot find if this is true and most dictionaries list the 1820s as the first use of the expression. There are three minerals that are called fool’s gold. They are pyrite, chalcopyrite, and weathered mica. The most commonly found of these three is pyrite, so let’s concentrate on that. Pyrite is iron sulfide. It is formed at the bottom of the oceans and therefore found in sedimentary rock. Iron comes out of rocks when they are weathered and forms iron salts. These are dissolved in water and flow into the sea where they settle at the bottom. The deposits are covered by organic matter and the bacteria that feed off the decaying matter create sulphide, which joins to the iron and forms crystals of iron sulphide. When the oceans dry up, or the sea beds are raised up by the tectonic plates, the sedimentary rock and the pyrite are brought to the surface. Pyrite is a Greek name and it comes from pyrites lithos, which means “the stone that strikes fire”. When it is struck, it produces sparks and was used as a fire lighter by ancient people. In more recent times, it was used in early firearms, before a better substitute was found. Pyrite is a very hard mineral and has a wide range of uses. It is a semiconductor and has been used in lithium batteries. It is used to produce sulphur dioxide for the paper industry. It has been used as solar panels, and it has been used to make cheap jewelry, amongst other things. We are looking at it because of its resemblance to gold. If it is sunny, pyrite can reflect the sunlight and look vaguely golden and sparkly, just like real gold. Pyrite is very common, far more common than gold, and someone who came across some pyrite might believe they had found a huge amount of gold. However, despite its initial resemblance to gold, pyrite has a lot of differences to gold. Here are some of the differences. Gold is very durable, but pyrite is very brittle. Pyrite turns green when oxidized, gold doesn’t change color. When you poke pyrite with a knife, it will flake or crumble. When you poke gold with a knife, it will indent because it is soft. Pyrite may not be real gold, but it is certainly not worthless. Because of its many and varied uses, there is a big market in pyrite mining. China is the biggest exporter of pyrite at the moment. In September 2024, 1 kg of pyrite is roughly $95. For comparison, 1 kg of gold would be $83,228. And this is what I learned today. Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-stone-56030/ Sources http://www.newworldexploration.com/explorers-tales-blog/explorer-martin-frobisher-infects-the-queen-with-gold-fever-part-1 https://uwaterloo.ca/earth-sciences-museum/resources/detailed-rocks-and-minerals-articles/pyrite https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyrite https://arts.onehowto.com/article/why-is-pyrite-called-fool-s-gold-13388.html https://www.usgs.gov/faqs/what-fools-gold https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gold_rush https://www.thermofisher.com/blog/mining/pyrite-the-real-story-behind-fools-gold https://www.gemworld.com.au/products/moreInfo/401/4762/pyrite_rough_per_kilo https://goldprice.org/gold-price-per-kilo.html Read the full article

[xasha777]

In the year 2157, humanity had finally extended its reach beyond Earth, settling on Mars. Among the new settlements, the most ambitious was Coprates City, built within the grand chasm of Coprates Chasma. This vast canyon, stretching for over 1,000 kilometers, provided a natural shelter from the harsh Martian environment and became a hub for scientific research and exploration.

Deep within the subterranean lakes of Coprates Chasma, a team of biologists had made an astonishing discovery. The waters, rich in minerals and warmed by geothermal vents, teemed with alien life forms. Among these creatures was a species of bioluminescent fish, unlike anything seen before. The biologists named it "Abyssus Lucis," or "Light of the Abyss."

The Abyssus Lucis was a mesmerizing sight, with scales that shimmered like polished metal and eyes that glowed with an otherworldly golden hue. Its sharp teeth and predatory nature hinted at its dominance in the Martian aquatic ecosystem. The fish, reaching sizes of up to three meters, swam gracefully through the dark waters, illuminating their surroundings with their bioluminescence.

Dr. Elena Torres, the lead biologist, had dedicated her life to studying these extraordinary creatures. Her research revealed that the Abyssus Lucis communicated through patterns of light and sound, creating a complex language that hinted at a higher intelligence. As she delved deeper into their behavior, she became convinced that they held the key to understanding Mars' ancient past.

One day, while exploring a particularly deep section of the lake, Dr. Torres and her team made a startling discovery. Hidden within a network of underwater caves, they found remnants of an ancient Martian civilization. Intricate carvings on the cave walls depicted the Abyssus Lucis as revered beings, guardians of the Martian waters. The carvings showed scenes of coexistence between the Martians and these aquatic creatures, suggesting a symbiotic relationship that had thrived for millennia.

Among the artifacts, they found a series of crystal tablets, encoded with an unknown script. Dr. Torres hypothesized that these tablets contained the lost knowledge of the Martian civilization, including their understanding of the Abyssus Lucis. Deciphering the tablets became her team's top priority.

As they worked tirelessly to unlock the secrets of the tablets, a crisis unfolded on the surface. A massive dust storm, unlike any ever recorded, swept across Mars, threatening the stability of Coprates City. Communications were cut off, and supplies ran low. The settlers faced a dire situation, trapped within the canyon with no way to call for help.

Desperate for a solution, Dr. Torres turned to the Abyssus Lucis. She theorized that the bioluminescent fish could be used to create a beacon, a signal visible from orbit that could guide rescue missions to their location. Using the knowledge gleaned from the tablets, she devised a plan to harness the fish's natural light.

The team worked around the clock, constructing a massive underwater structure embedded with sensors and emitters. When activated, the structure would amplify the Abyssus Lucis' bioluminescence, creating a brilliant beacon that could pierce through the storm's fury.

On the night of the storm's peak, with visibility reduced to zero and hope dwindling, Dr. Torres initiated the beacon. The lake lit up in a dazzling display of light, the patterns of the Abyssus Lucis dancing in harmony, forming a signal that reached far beyond the chasm.

Hours later, a rescue team, guided by the beacon, arrived at Coprates City. The settlers were evacuated, and Coprates Chasma was saved from disaster. Dr. Torres' discovery not only rescued her fellow colonists but also opened a new chapter in humanity's understanding of Mars and its ancient inhabitants.

The story of the Abyssus Lucis became legend, a symbol of hope and resilience. As humanity continued to explore the cosmos, the lessons learned from these remarkable creatures reminded them of the importance of harmony with the unknown and the wonders that awaited in the depths of the universe.

[madmonkeydisorder]

 Interzona!

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Howl!

[tobykurtzz]

Corners of the Telesto Yuan khilāfah are a paradise while other areas are engulfed in war. When Clans go to war the consequences can be brutal. A trade dispute between two clans lead to a massacre on the planet Periniea. Bombers destroyed the capital and cut a swath of destruction across the temporal zone of the planet. The Golden Hand stepped out of the shadows to mediate the settlement of the conflict, highly favoring the tattered Amorishi Clan over the militarily strong Khinhtanya Clan. The Amorishis were allowed to evacuate many of their people off planet before the Khinhtanya took the mineral rich northern hemisphere for themselves. Surprisingly the leadership of the Khinhtanya slowly began dying off on their newly conquered planet. Accidents, natural causes, and murder claimed the Khinhtanya leadership until a young second-cousin fell into the line of succession. A newly appointed guardian, rumored to be blessed by Imperador Abraham Amal Medeshah himself, stepped in to advise and education the young clan leader. This guardian, Khlyon of Cheroseia, set a new course for the Khinhtanya clan who, decades later, healed the rift with the Amorishis by returning Periniea and absorbing the remnants of the tattered Clan as an elevated tribute-clan within the Khinhtanya family. #sciencefiction #scifi #midjourney #aiartwork #AICreated #dailyart

[skyhighhub4]

Step Back in Time: Historical Poconos Tours to Explore the Region's Heritage

The Poconos Mountains, nestled in northeastern Pennsylvania, hold a rich and vibrant history that beckons to be explored. From colonial settlements to industrial marvels, the region's heritage is waiting to be discovered by those with a penchant for the past. If you yearn to step back in time and immerse yourself in the stories and landmarks of yesteryears, the Poconos offer a range of captivating historical tours that will transport you to a bygone era. And after a day of exploration, you can relax and unwind in the inviting hotel pools scattered throughout the region. Join us as we embark on a journey through time, unraveling the secrets of the past, uncovering the fascinating heritage of the Poconos, and indulging in moments of relaxation in the hotel pools.

Colonial Architecture and Living History:

Delve into the colonial era of the Poconos as you explore its historic architecture and immerse yourself in living history. Take a guided tour through beautifully preserved colonial villages, such as Milford and Jim Thorpe, where you can admire the quaint buildings, cobblestone streets, and charming period details. After a day of discovering the region's colonial heritage, return to your hotel and rejuvenate in the refreshing pool. Many hotels with pool in Poconos provide pools where you can relax, unwind, and reflect on the rich history you've encountered.

Revolutionary War Sites:

Uncover the Poconos' role in the American Revolutionary War as you visit significant sites and battlegrounds. Explore Fort Decker in Port Jervis, New York, a stone fortification that played a crucial role in protecting the frontier during the war. Engage with knowledgeable guides who share tales of bravery and sacrifice, gaining a deeper understanding of the region's historical significance. After immersing yourself in the revolutionary history, return to your hotel and enjoy a leisurely swim in the pool. Let the water envelop you as you reflect on the stories of valor and resilience that shaped the nation.

Industrial Heritage and Railroad History:

The Poconos were once a hub of industrial activity, driven by the coal mining and railroad industries. Embark on a tour that explores the remnants of this industrial past and highlights the importance of the region in fueling the nation's growth. Visit the Lackawanna Coal Mine Tour in Scranton, where you can descend into an authentic coal mine and learn about the hardships and triumphs of the miners. Experience the thrill of riding historic steam trains on the Delaware Water Gap Railroad, reliving the golden age of rail travel. After a day of industrial exploration, return to your hotel and immerse yourself in the soothing pool waters. Let the gentle currents wash away the fatigue as you reflect on the remarkable industrial heritage you've encountered.

Native American Heritage:

Discover the deep-rooted Native American history of the Poconos through guided tours that explore the region's indigenous heritage. Visit sites such as the Pocono Indian Museum, where you can learn about the Lenape (Delaware) tribe and their way of life. Engage in interactive exhibits, artifacts, and storytelling that provide insights into the traditions, beliefs, and contributions of the Native American communities that once thrived in the Poconos. After immersing yourself in Native American culture, return to your hotel and unwind by the pool. Allow the serene ambiance to transport you back in time as you reflect on the interconnectedness of history and culture.

Architectural Gems and Historic Landmarks:

The Poconos are home to a wealth of architectural gems and historic landmarks that showcase the region's heritage. Take a tour of the historic Stroud Mansion in Stroudsburg, a beautifully restored 18th-century home that now serves as a museum. Explore the Asa Packer Mansion in Jim Thorpe, a stately Victorian mansion that offers a glimpse into the opulent lifestyle of the region's wealthy industrialists. After marveling at the architectural wonders, retreat to your hotel and enjoy a refreshing dip in the pool. Let the water rejuvenate you as you reflect on the splendor of the region's historical landmarks.

Conclusion:

The Poconos Mountains invite you to step back in time and explore their rich heritage through captivating historical tours. As you unravel the secrets of the past and uncover the region's fascinating history, take moments to relax and unwind in the hotel pools that offer a refreshing respite after a day of exploration. Immerse yourself in the stories, visit significant landmarks, engage with knowledgeable guides, and indulge in moments of relaxation by the pool. The Poconos' historical tours provide a unique blend of discovery and relaxation, allowing you to connect with the past while enjoying the modern comforts of the region's hotel pools.

ALSO VISIT : A Tranquil Escape: Exploring Santa Cruz's Most Relaxing Destinations

Discover the Natural Splendor: Poconos Tours for Outdoor Enthusiasts

Cool off and Relax in Style at These Spa Hotels with Pools in Staffordshire

LOVE WITH HOTELS

ADRIENNE HARVEY

[sp00kworm]

Iron Lake

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Pairing: Qene (Male God [Bird Creature]) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Wound Descriptions, Blood

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Ore was rich in the valleys once. The entire hillside was covered in small mine shafts for digging up iron ore for smelting in the iron works, and that lead to several settlement villages between the city and the ocean. Your family had lived on the final reaches of the valley, towards the sea, for many generations, until the collapse. The men worked as miners, and the women worked the farms. Your own family, however, had moved on long ago. When the iron ore ran dry, and the mine shafts began to collapse, the village was left to the farmers and creatures which plagued the woods and hills. You looked at your sturdy cottage and the barns surrounding it as you sat on top of the newly built dry-stone wall you had just finished. It had collapsed with a recent bull charge and you’d spent a long time building it back up higher so he couldn’t get at your cows. A few heifers were too young and now steered clear of the wall, wandering along the other side of the field. You didn’t blame them. The bull was a neighbour’s, and rarely did he have the beast under control. Smoking a pipe called you, but it was a habit that was best left alone living so rural. You patted your nearest cow and fed her a handful of weeds before taking your bucket and heading to your chickens, which were clucking around the few ewes you had.

 The chickens ran on small legs as you shook the feed bucket, and you grinned as you leaned over to toss them some food. The ewes were slower to move and trotted over as you headed to their small food trough and hay basket. You shovelled more hay in from under the shelter and locked the gate before filling their feed and water troughs. The chickens were back following you around as you tapped their own feed buckets again and herded them back into their coop. They happily ignored you closing the caging in favour of the food you had put in their own trough. Whistling, you took all the buckets and closed the gates to the fields, heading back towards the small storage and utility shed to put everything away. The wind rushed over the long grass at the top of the hill and you paused to look up as the sky rumbled with the beginnings of rain. Sure enough, as you looked to the herd, they were heading back to the shelter. There was rain on the way. You tutted and made sure to put everything away before rushing to cover the chickens and make sure the sheep had their own shelter with their raised bedded platform.

 As you finished checking on the cows, the heavens opened, and you rushed for your small porch, sprinting under the cover as the rain came lashing down, soaking your shirt and bottoms through. The cotton clung to you as you shuddered by the door, watching the grey clouds blur with falling water over the top of the mountain in the distance. It was colder now, and you opened your door to stoke the fire and dry your clothes. You grumpily tugged your wet clothing off and hung it in front of the fire before you rekindled the embers and wrapped yourself tightly in a heavy blanket of white wool. The rain thundered on the roof, and you warmed your toes before pulling on a small pair of moccasins and peering through the glass in your windows. The animals were huddled together out of the rain as it gave the grass and small crop garden you had a good soak. It was miserable. You perched yourself on the small table and watched the weather with a hum.

“And I had so much to do today too.” You lamented quietly.

 The rain was white noise after a while, and the clouds rolled over head, still full of rain when you peered back up at the sky. You jumped as a great screech sounded overhead, inhuman, furious and in pain. It sounded again with the thunderous boom of a weapon, and you jumped from the window at the flash of gun powder in the far distance, over the mountain top. Your home shook with another screeching wail as the flashes stopped and the clouds rolled again, the wind howling through the unsealed stone cracks in your cottage. There was another boom of thunder as the cries of the creature paused for a moment. You prayed they hadn’t just shot at a dragon. Dragons were harder than steel plating and bullets or canons did very little damage to their interlinked scales. Fury would follow an injured dragon, but there was no hiss and boom of burning flames. Another ear-piercing screech followed down the mountainside, as a great black figure soared into the clouds and disappeared overhead. It’s shadow hung over the top of the hill as it zipped down through the valley before it screeched again and plunged from the sky, spinning in a mass of glorious golden brown and tawny feathers before it plummeted into the muddy cow field in a mass of feathers, dirt and blood.

 The cows mooed violently before trotting out to investigate the lump, the younger females hanging back under the wooden shelter. You watched the feathers float from the sky, shellshocked, before you rushed for your damp clothing and pulled it all back on. You threw on your hooded cloak and rushed out into the rain and wind. The cows called as you rushed to the fence and thumped at their flanks harshly, batting their tongues away from the creature’s wounds. It hissed, feathers brushing upwards as you dared to touch its giant body. It was huge, easily over twelve feet long, the long tail feathers crumpled under its cut legs. It had a great talon missing from one of it’s feet, and blood thrummed from the wound. You rushed to its head.

“Oh, my Sun…” You cursed as you looked at the burning orange eyes that peaked out from the great, fluffy crown of feathers. A beak opened as it hissed again, another, weak scream of upset. A threat, you realised as it’s feet moved and talons slashed at the floor.

“Don’t!” You pushed it’s shoulder as the orange bled to black and it turned onto its other side, flopping over in its attempts to push itself back onto its feet.

 “You’re killing yourself!” You screamed at it as it flexed its wings and black blood spewed from its mouth. You gasped at the cavern in its side, bleeding black tar and red blood over its beautiful, soft feathers. It screeched again, madness taking over as it thrashed to get itself upright and managed, shaking on its swollen, bleeding foot. The wound to its torso was heavily bleeding, and blood poured with the stress and movement, revealing the two-inch diameter iron ball wedged in between its ribs.

“Stop!” You screeched again, putting your hands on its wings before two hard arms extended out of the feathery chest. The clawed hands snatched at you, lifting you high to its bleeding black eyes as you gasped. With a small scream, the creature reared its head back and paused as you covered its eyes, small hands encompassing its blackened gaze. Its wings sagged as it’s beak opened to let tar leak from its gullet.

 “You’re going to die if you don’t let me get that bullet out of you!” You shouted up at it, clinging to its face, “Let me help you, please.”

The bird-like creature sagged, its wounded feet giving in as it paused to retch blood up once more and placed you back on the floor with a croak. The croak bubbled with tar and blood as its feathers shifted and it looked up at your little cottage. The wind shifted and blew violently, soaking the both of you with more, icy rain.

“I will not fit.” It whispered deeply, as though its voice was being carried to your ears on the wind itself.

“You can…talk…” You commented, stunned for a moment as it opened its mouth, “There’s a barn to the back. I used to keep the horse in there, but its empty now.” You reasoned as you opened the gate and coaxed the bleeding beast through the rungs. It cried out as its claws got stuck in the cattle grating, the wound from the missing toe tearing and bleeding over the wooden slats. The creature followed, feathers dripping from its body in a bloody trail as it struggled behind you, croaking and wheezing as you heaved open the doors to the horse barn and opened the door to a stall.

 The creature flopped into the stall, its burning eyes dripping with tar as it wheezed, wings ruffling as it struggled to keep the gapping wound in its chest off the stone floor. You rushed to kick over a great barrel of sawdust to mop up the blood before disappearing back into the howling wind and rain to grab what little medical supplies you had. A crow squawked by your window as you rushed into the front door, his beady eye following you before it hopped into the house and cawed again, louder. Cursing, you grabbed your old sheets and shoved them into the large cooking pot with the rest of the water from the well. The fire was roaring, and they would soon be clean enough to wrap the wounds. The poultices were a little old, but they smelt fresh and clean, of mint and lavender, and you grabbed the jars and your needles and some fine thread. It would be a botch job at best, but it was all you could do for the creature. You also made sure to grab something for the pain, grabbing a bottle of dragon fire whiskey as you grappled the cooking pot of boiling sheets and shouldered the other supplies. The crow followed you out of the house again and cawed, but you paid it no mind, even as more small birds flocked with it under your porch and in the fields.

 The creature was wheezing against the floor, barely breathing, when you returned, and you cursed as its eye opened, devoid of any honey colour, just filled with black. Its eyes rolled and closed.

“Try and stay awake. Please. I need you awake to stop the bleeding.” You scrubbed your hands and hung the sheets to dry as you looked at his chest again, eyeing the iron ball wedged under his bottom rib, mashed in with broken feathers and splinters of stone. With a shaky hand, you took hold of your small set of forceps, usually used to help cows calf, and soaked them in the boiling water before you dared to ease them under the plumage and grip the bullet. The creature screamed but didn’t lash out, and so, you committed, heaving the bullet down, and out of its chest with a rush of tar like goo and blood. It croaked against the stone and you reached for the fresh water and salt to rinse the sharp pieces of feather and stone away before you plucked the broken feathers around the wound away and eyed the wound for any other artifacts. It was clean. You jumped as one of the creature’s leather skinned arms appeared from out of the feathers of its chest and reached for the large bottle of whiskey you had brought. It hissed and pulled the cork free with its beak before pouring the strong alcohol into its gullet, grumbling, and croaking after with the burn.

 “That much will knock you out good.” You promised as you stroked its feathery chest and pulled out your needle, sterilising it in the boiling water before you threaded it, knotted the end, and got to work, suturing the wound closed where you could, as tightly as you dared. The bird creatures’ skin was dark underneath its feathers, leathery to the touch and tanned. You closed the final part of the wound and tried not to slip too much as you knotted the end with blood slick fingers. The tar was gone, no longer leaking from its eyes and mouth. Quietly, you listened to it breathe, wheezing softly against the floor. You took hold of the mint poultice and applied a layer with honey over the wound to soothe the raw, sore skin. Wings shuffled as you reached to tear apart your sheets into large strips to wrap the wound. It cried as you returned and eased its chest up enough to reach around, duck under its arms and wrap the whole thing tightly. You pinned it before letting it rest as you cleaned and wrapped its foot, wondering if the toe would need cauterizing as you left it be, snoozing in an alcohol induced sleep. You made sure to pile hay around him for the night before you closed the doors tightly and looked at your cottage.

 The crow from before cawed again from your small porch, fluttering about the floor before it landed by your window and watched you as you hauled your supplies back inside.

“What’s brought you here?” You asked, “I don’t have any seeds for you!” You shouted as it followed you into the house and settled itself over the top of your fire, seated in a small handkerchief on your mantle place.

“Fine. Make yourself at home then.” You scoffed as you looked over at your cooking pot and poured the water out of the window. You were drenched through to the bone and you shuddered as you stoked the fire again and stripped off your clothing. You hung it by the fire and sniffled as you dried off and then wrapped yourself back in your large blanket, content to snuggle into your large armchair and warm your toes by the flames. It was soothing to hear the rain slow to a patter against your roof and the soft cawing of the crow nestled in front of you. Your eyes drooped as you snuggled into the blanket and forgot about the creature laid in your barn.

 A great squawk in your ear woke you up, and you jumped awake violently before the crow stomped over your lap and jumped up and down on the arm of your chair. You looked at it in confusion before pushing the blanket away and shuddering. It was cold. Using the blanket as a shawl, you stoked the fire again, throwing some more kindling and then logs into the embers to get it going as the crow fluttered into your kitchen and snapped at the crumbs on the side. You huffed and pulled out a small bag of sunflower seeds before you put a small handful in a bowl and watched the crow go to town.

“You’re a weird little thing.” You commented before going to get dressed in the small room you had to the left side of the cottage, leaving the crow to eat and hop around, so long as it didn’t decide that your floor was a good place to poop.

 The crow was still on the countertop when you returned, watching you through one, beady black eye, as you walked towards it. It flapped in protest as you stood in front of it but didn’t squawk or fly away. It stared back at you, its head turned and tilted up to see you properly.

“Are you here for the creature?” You asked, no louder than a whisper.

In response, the crow flapped again and gave one short, loud honk.

“Hm. I don’t think I trust you just yet.” You scolded gently before you offered your hand to the crow. The corvid pecked a finger before stepping onto your hand and skipping up your arm, hopping as it went along your sleeve, its beak holding itself up when it slipped against the cotton.

“Come on then. Let’s go and see how our house guest…well, our barn guest, is doing.” You tapped the crow’s beak and headed towards the door. You both looked up at the morning sun and smiled, thankful for the sunshine. The crow flapped again and spread its wings to soak in the rays before you turned to head around the back of the cottage where the barn was.

 The rain had washed away most of the blood, leaving clumps of muddy feathers around the rocks and fence posts as the evidence that the creature had passed through. You stepped over a puddle and heaved open the barn door. A great rumbling croak sounded as you stepped inside, leaving the door open a little to let the morning air in. The creature’s feathers dragged against the piles of hay and the stone floor, as it struggled to raise its head. When it managed to get high enough, one, burning orange eye peered over the top of the stall, eyeing you as you approached the wooden gate.

“Good morning.” You uttered as it flopped back against the floor with a sad, long croak. The crow on your shoulder squawked again before fluttering down to the great beast and moving from the bottom of its tail feathers to its hooked beak. It opened one giant eye and huffed before looking at you again and opening its mouth.

“Sustenance.” Its great voice rumbled before closing its eyes again, struggling to swallow as the crow pecked gently at the loose feathers on its face, pulling them free before it tapped its beak against the other and flew up to the side of the stall.

 “Food?” You asked, “Well, I have some but certainly not enough to feed you. You’re giant, if you don’t mind me saying and I don’t know if I could feed you.” You confessed, holding the top of the gate as the creature hissed lowly and dragged its great claws along the floor.

“I will hunt.” It rasped.

“NO!” You grabbed it’s shoulder, gently pulling it back down, “You’ll open all of my hard work. You, sit there. And you,” you pointed to the crow, “you’re coming with me.”

The crow nodded and fluttered out of the barn. Before you could turn to follow, the giant bird-creature rustled its feathers and its leathery, clawed hand appeared, holding your waist to keep you in place.

 “Thank…you.” It hissed, “I am… Qene.”

It’s name was hissed, a long pronunciation of E’s which made you wonder just of what race is was. If it was a fae, it would not have told you it’s true name, lest you bind it in contracts. You introduced yourself quietly and it nodded, slowly, exhausted still.

“I am…God of the Valley. Wind, weather and bird.” Qene rasped, “He who…controls the mountains.”

“A…God?” You whispered as the creature let go of your waist, “A god in my barn and…”

Qene huffed and collapsed again in his hay bedding.

“I’ve got questions but let me feed you first. What do you eat?” You asked.

Qene raised his beak from the hay to speak, his voice like a small thunderous rumble, “Meat. I hunt…deer and elk. Anything to then give back to the…” His eyes closed slowly, the orange disappearing behind his eyelid before he fell back asleep.

“I guess a chicken might have to do…or maybe I can get a deer from Thriskar.” You pondered as you followed the crow out of the barn and went for your bag and a bow.

 Thriskar scoffed at your request, “A deer? A whole one?” The orc sniffed before he carried on skinning the buck he had strung up outside his small home, “What the fuck do you need a whole…” he smirked then, suddenly, as though he had been told the funniest joke, “Do you have company over? Wanting to impress?”

With a snort, you were quick to flip your middle finger up at the orc, “Yeah, fuck you. I need it for pickling and smoking. I want to not live off my cows again this winter.”

“Well, you’re in luck then.” Thriskar commented, rolling his eyes as he wiped the blood from his hands and pointed to the young buck hanging in his shop, “I caught that yesterday. Should be drained enough for smoking now if you want it.”

 “How much?” You asked, sceptically.

Thriskar grinned as he tapped the counter in his shop, perching himself, leaned over the counter, before he tapped his lips, “A kiss and four bronze, or seven bronze if you’re feeling less generous.”

“You’re the worst.” You commented as you handed him the seven bronze coins, “I should be able to carry it before you offer that too.”

“Here.” Thriskar laughed as he pulled the creature’s pelt out and tied the deer in a sling like fashion around your back, “You should get it back now.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t make a habit of it okay? I won’t give you the skin for free in future!” he warned as he saw you out of the door and down the path back towards home.

 The crow squawked overhead, and you saw Thriskar look up and shake his head before the crow landed on your shoulder.

“Well done. Now he really will think I’m a witch or something.” You scolded the crow as it hopped from your right shoulder, over to your left.

“You don’t need me for that. He likes you enough to want a kiss, doesn’t he? Does that affection not prove anything?” The crow squawked.

You felt your back go cold, “How…can you…”

“Talk?” It asked, “I am…omnipresent within my children.”

“Qene?” You asked as the crow eyed you.

“Yes…” It rasped tiredly, “I wanted to ensure you would be safe.”

“I’ll be fine! There’s nothing but pesky fae and annoying goblins, and they know not to mess with me. I like salt, iron and flowers too much.” You smiled. The crow’s head turned again before it let out another squawk and shook its wings and head violently, as though it had been released from some kind of spell.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine that was lots of fun, huh?” You asked as you stroked the crow’s head and carried on along the path.

 Home was a great greeting of farm animals. The chorus was loud and upset, as they had expected their food early in the morning and now it was almost midday. You heaved the deer off your back and onto the porch. The cows crowded the gate as you went to retrieve a hay bale with a pitchfork. There was a lot to tend to before you could give your guest the food he needed. The cows were happy for their filled hay and you were quick to give the sheep and chickens their food before you dragged the deer away from your little crow friend, and towards the large barn on your back. You opened the door and peered inside. Once again, Qene lifted his head, just high enough to see over the top of the stable door, his burning orange gaze looking directly at you.

“I’m back.” You smiled, “And I got you this!”

“Meat?” Qene droned over the top of the stable, “Deer…. No innards.”

“We don’t tend to eat the insides…the intestines are for sausages though.” You told him as you opened the door and laid the deer over the stone floor.

“Sausages?” Qene rasped, his head tilted as his feather’s rustled, and he pulled himself along the floor, his beak opening.

 Spit dripped from his beak as his tongue extended, pointed and tanned like his skin. He licked at his beak before he took a great chunk out of the hind of the deer.

“Thank you.” Qene rumbled as he threw his head back and swallowed the chunk of deer, “This…will help.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled as you reached to pluck one of his feathers from the floor, looking at the now dull brown colour. When it had been attached to his face, it was shiny, golden and beautiful.

Qene ripped more from the deer and noticed you spinning the crushed feather by its quill, “They do not live once they are detached…True power flows through them, but they cannot be removed with it forcefully.”

“What kind of power?” You asked as you sat by the stable door, “I’ve…Well, I guess you are a God.”

Qene scoffed, “It is why I took a bullet to the chest.”

“They’re after your feathers?”

“Yes. Fools that they are.” Qene snorted again over the carcass, “Even if they have no value when they are forcibly plucked.”

 You decided not to press the issue, and simply sat as Qene ate, intrigued by the way he plucked at the meat, tearing it all from the bones before smashing open the bones for the marrow inside, his tongue licking at the blood and goo before the bones were then crushed and eaten.

“We really should change your bandages.” You offered as the God finished crunching the brains inside the skull.

“There is no need.” Qene grumbled as he swallowed the last pieces of his meal, “This will be enough for me to heal fully.” His eye turned on you again, “And soon I will be out of your hair.”

“What do you mean you’re almost healed?” You scoffed, “Let me see.”

Qene chuffed and opened his bandages with a swipe of his claws, “See for yourself.”

You shuffled through the hay and looked at the exposed wound below his ribcage. Except, now it was no longer a gaping wound, it was a healing wound, scabbed over where you had stitched it, the flesh filling the line quickly, and moving by the second.

 “How is that happening?” You asked in fascination, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I am the God of this valley. God of the Iron Lake valley. I am not…held by your mortal deigns.” Qene rasped, his voice growing in strength like a thunderstorm now that he had eaten, “But I would…like some more of that Dragon Fire Whiskey, if you have anymore?”

You looked at his feet and noticed his toe had not grown back, but was quickly snapped from your revere as you smiled and laughed, “More whiskey? Its only just past midday but sure. I’ll go and get the rest of the bottle for you, since you’re a God and all that.” You turned to stand and opened the stall, “Does it even have an effect on you?”

The God huffed and opened his beak in something that looked like a smile, his claws tucked under his head and his wings blanketed over his body, “Not greatly, but it is strong, so I can feel the effects for a moment.”

“So, when you chugged it for the pain…”

“It did not help for a long time.” Qene confirmed, “But I am grateful for your help. Without you, I would have gone mad and destroyed much of this place in my agony.”

“Well, you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do after what other humans did to you. Now, let me get you that whiskey.”

 Qene’s feather’s rustled in the valley winds, and he raised his head as he stepped out of the barn, his claws dragging on the floor before he spread his wings and let the wind run through his feathers. A few final dead ones fluttered away on the wind, browning as they disappeared up the hills.

“It feels like an eon since I felt the wind.” Qene rumbled as he flapped his wings and stood tall to look over the fields and up to the mountain, “I will now no longer burden you.”

“I…I’m glad you’re well, but…” You looked at the mountain again, “Won’t they be waiting for you?”

“Waiting for me?” Qene rumbled, his head tilted to peer down at you, “They may be, but my home is my own…”

“Why not stay here?” You asked as the small crow cawed and landed on your shoulder, “They won’t look for you here.”

“And why would you want this?” he asked as he dipped his head, “I am not of your kind, nor am I a welcome guest. I fell into your home.”

“But you are also a welcome one now.” You smiled at him, “I don’t mind you being here. You even helped me get those hay bales out of the barn.”

Qene’s eyes looked to the mountain with longing, “My home…”

“You can go and see…but if you want to come back then…”

 Qene lowered his beak to your head, pressing the top to the top of your skull before he looked you in the eyes and licked at your cheek, “Silly human. I…” he rumbled, “I will see my home, but I will return…for visits or for…If my home is not inhabitable.”

You reached up to his face and carefully stroked along Qene’s feathered neck, the golden feathers soft and pretty, “Come back when you want.” You smiled, “Maybe you can replace the whiskey you drank, huh?”

Qene laughed, his beak open and eyes closed, “Perhaps…Or maybe I can bring you something better?”

“Something better?” You asked.

The God nodded his head, “I will bring you a feather, if I return, and weave it into your hair.”

“To what end? What does that mean?” You stroked his neck.

“That you are chosen by me, by the valley god…” he confessed, “That you will be my priestess.”

You laughed softly, “I don’t know about being a religious figure but…”

“You will be mine?” Qene rumbled, his wings flexing.

“Maybe I will, Qene.” You promised before the God flexed his wings and pounded them three times, lifting from the field and into the air.

 The crow on your shoulder rubbed its head under your chin, “I will be here. My eyes see everything.”

“I know, Qene. Good luck.” You whispered to the crow before the shadow in the clouds disappeared back towards the mountain.

 Weeks past with warm weather and pleasant breezes. The mountain was silent, looming in the distance over the valley, and you tended to your animals and small vegetable patch. Thriskar came for some milk and eggs, looking at the sudden brightness to your animals and farm.

“It is like a God has touched this place!” He commented over a cold glass of milk one day, crunching carrot sticks between his teeth as he looked at the farm. His comment made you wonder just where Qene was. Since he had left the farm had been brighter, fuller of life, but quiet and Qene had not spoken through your crow companion for a long time. You were beginning to think something had happened, and often you went to bed after leaving a bottle of whiskey on the porch. This night, you did the same, placing the bottle out on the porch with a small candle in a holder, before heading to bed.

 The next morning you opened the door and stood over a single, golden feather. The feather glowed in the early morning light, bright and brilliant, burning with power. The whiskey was uncorked, and the candle blown out. You rushed for both items, grabbing the feather, and clutching it close before you rounded the corner and thundered into the barn. Qene’s orange eye slowly peered over the top of the stall.

“Hello, little bird.” Qene rumbled before he pushed open the gate, “It has been a while.”

“Qene!” You rushed to the bird creature and hugged him around the neck.

Qene raised his neck and hung you before he gripped you around the waist and smiled, clucking softly with a purr before he placed you back on the floor, “I have missed you. My home is gone, destroyed and trapped. I…I searched for somewhere, but I have ended up back at your doorstep.”

“So…You’re here to stay?” You asked gently.

He nodded his head, “If I am welcome. I will make a home here and…I would like to know more about you.”

 You looked up at the eagle face. His eyes were covered by golden and brown feathers, and you reached up to push them away, staring at the orange eyes of the God.

“You were always welcome.” You cooed before kissing the top of his beak.

“Thank you, little bird.” Qene cooed back as his leathery skin rubbed against your own, “The whiskey was a treat.” he chuckled.

“You’re going to have to give me some way to buy more! It’s so expensive!” You scolded.

[whencyclopedia]

History & Mining Culture of the Ore Mountains

The Ore Mountains (Erzgebirge) on the border between Germany and the Czech Republic is a region rich in history and culture connected to the mining industry. For centuries the cities on both sides of the mountain range had sustained themselves and flourished by the extraction of tin, copper, zinc, uranium, and most importantly silver. Even though the mines are now closed the mining culture and heritage is still widely celebrated and visible for visitors, with the hammer and chisel motif on many buildings in the different mining towns.

The rich mining heritage of the region was recently inscribed on the UNESCO world heritage list (July 2019 CE), with sites on both sides of the border. On the German side, in the Free State of Saxony, the cities of Freiberg and Annaberg-Buchholz has much to offer in educating visitors about the mining industry, both from the Middle Ages and more recent times and how this intensive industry shaped the lives and culture of the people living there. A visit is definitely recommended for anyone interested in mining history, early industrialization or for those who seek to experience an authentic German Christmas market.

Freiberg

Freiberg, a one-hour train ride from Dresden, traces its history back to 1168 CE. At that time the forest region was under the control of the Margrave of Meissen. A silver ore was discovered close to the small settlement Christiandorf and lead to the establishment of the city of Freiberg, which got its name from the mining rights belonging to the “free miner”. The mining industry became a very important source of income for the Margrave of Meissen, Otto II (r. c. 1156-1190 CE), known later as Otto the Rich. A large statue of the town's 'founder' can now be seen at the main square of the historic city center. Freiberg's importance and wealth increased rapidly after the discovery of silver, and it remained the economic center and mint of Saxony until the 16th century CE. The mining industry continued in the Freiberg region for 800 years until the mines were finally closed in 1968 CE.

Today Freiberg is a lively and charming city with many exciting sites to see, amongst other the Town Hall from the 15th century CE, and the Cathedral of St. Mary, first contracted in 1180 CE as a Romanesque basilica, the current building dates to c. 1500 CE. On the south side of the cathedral, you can visit a part of the old church, The Golden Gate, a richly ornamented sandstone portal from 1230 CE.

Even though the town was destroyed by fire several times and suffered during the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648 CE), much of the medieval town is still standing. Walking around in the historic center, one architectural feature is especially remarkable: the Gothic patrician houses with very high and steep pitched roof constructions. The main square, Obermakt, is definitely worth a visit, where you will see both the statue of Otto the Rich and the beautiful Town Hall. On the north side of the square, you can also marvel at a gate with intricate carvings depicturing the miners hard at work.

It is impossible to visit this city without being drawn towards the rich mining history and culture. To learn more, visitors are recommended to spend a couple of hours in the Freiberg City and Mining Museum. Located in a stunning late Gothic building, it is one of Saxony's oldest museums, established in 1861 CE. The museum is filled with tools, art, photographs, and other objects connected to work in the mines throughout the ages or the culture that flourished thanks to the mining industry. In addition, no one should leave without a visit to the Freudenstein Castle, where the mineral exhibition Terra Mineralia is on display with over 3,500 minerals, precious stones, and meteorites. The exhibition is presented by the Technical University Bergakademie Freiberg, the oldest university of mining and metallurgy in the world, and is a real treasure trove filled with gems from all over the world.

Continue reading...

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

TARTESSOS AND TURDETANI

(Recreation of the city of Atlantis, which was speculated to be the city of Tartessos, and an imagining of a Turdetan warrior)

The Tartessic culture is the oldest one in the Iberian peninsula, dating from around the year 1000 BC to 550 BC. It spanned practically all of Western Andalucía, in the provinces of Huelva, Cádiz and Sevilla, with some dispersion to the southern parts of Extremadura. It was born due to the unique geographical and metallurgic properties of the area; it is known for the Riotinto mines, full of iron and other minerals, as well as other rich mining areas. Its geographical makeup has changed quite a bit, in Ancient times the Tartessic Gulf occupied most of this area, which later became the Ligustinus Lake in Roman times, and it's now a wetland area called Doñana. Here's the evolution of the area from Tartessic times through the Roman era to today:

It was a society led by autonomous chiefs dedicated mainly to agriculture, mining and fishing. They become richer due to the later influence of Phoenician and Punic peoples in Gadir and other nearby areas, integrating and living peacefully with them, mainly due to commerce. Some of the main Tartessic population centers were Cabezo de San Pedro (in Huelva), Onuba (modern Huelva), El Carambolo (in Camas, Sevilla) and Casas de Turuñuelo (in Guareña, Badajoz). El Carambolo is particularly noteworthy as here the Treasure of El Carambolo was found, a probably funerary dowry of golden pieces, mostly necklaces and bracelets.

There was a noteworthy amount of sanctuaries that controlled different economic areas, the most impressive one being the Cancho Roano sanctuary (near Zalamea de la Serena, Badajoz). Here's a recreation of it:

One of the main archaeological artifacts associated with Tartessos are the Southwestern Steles, divided in the Warrior Steles and Diademed Steles. There's no consensus in their function, but it is known they were directly pinned in the ground, and the most accepted theories say they could be funeral steles or territorial demarcations.

Finally, Tartessos appeared and received its name from Greek mythology. Hecateus talked in the 7th century BC about king Arganthonios of Tartessos, who ruled the land for more than 100 years and was the wisest of men. Tartessos also appeared in one of the Twelve Labours of Hercules, in which he had to steal Geryon's cattle. In some versions of the myth, Geryon was a giant and king of Tartessos. Finally, the Tartessic kings Habis and his father Gargoris were immortalized in Epitome by Justin.

Their demise coincided with the depletion of the superficial levels of the mines, and they evolved into the Turdetani, a non-Iberian people specialized in salted fish, fish curing and fishery in general, starting an industry that was vital during the Roman Empire, as that same area was later used to produce the famous garum. Turdetani survived until Romanization happened, and most Baetic cultural aspects derived from them. They had a different writing system to the Iberians, and were very influenced by Eastern cultures. Its largest known settlement was Tejada la Vieja (near Escacena del Campo, Huelva).

[bigaladventures]

Days 14-18: Rocky Mountain National Park, CO

There are no words or even photos that can do justice to Rocky Mountain National Park. But, I'll try my best. For you.

Friday, September 16 - Arriving at RMNP and Timber Creek Camp

Given campground availability and my plans to spend time in Boulder after my visit to RMNP, I decided to start on the west side of the park and make my way eastward over the course of my time in the park.

I spent most of Friday driving to the park (about 2 hours), visiting the Kawuneeche Visitor Center (another hour or so - it was raining so I wanted to see if it would dry up a bit, get my collectible sticker, patch, and passport stamps, and gather some hiking tips from the rangers!). I then wrapped up the day settling in for my first night at Timber Creek Campground.

The rain let up for long enough to get a fire going, enjoy the stars, and go to sleep. It then proceeded to pour most of the night! My tent held up great - I was totally dry and warm inside.

Saturday, September 17 - Hiking Little Yellowstone & Lulu City

Hit the trail after my favorite breakfast of yogurt, blueberries and granola (the Yeti 45 Cooler is truly amazing and worked as an effective refrigerator for 5+ days)!

On the agenda: Little Yellowstone and Lulu City. This ~7-8mi hike took me along the source of the Colorado River with a combination of rich emerald colored forests and lush golden meadows under a crystal blue sky painted with cotton ball white clouds - the color contrasts were eye popping and made for great photo ops. I also visited the site of a small 200-person settlement from the 1800s, (Lulu city). And along the way, I even made some animal friends, a deer, a moose, and a lil marmot!

I'll let the photos to the rest of the talking:

Sunday, September 18 - Trail Ridge Road & Alpine Tundra

I woke up at dawn to pack up and drive east on Trail Ridge Road across the Continental Divide my next home base at Moraine Park Campground!

The elevations on Trail Ridge Road get so high that you are in what is called the Alpine Tundra, a landscape with such harsh conditions that trees cannot live there.

On a stop at the Alpine Visitor Center (the highest National Park Service facility!) I learned all about the ecosystem and animals of the Alpine Tundra including Elk, Big Horn Sheep, Marmot, Pika (in danger danger due to climate change and their conditioning to very cold climate), Coyote, Weasels, Ptarmigan and many plants!

I hiked the Rock Communities Trail to try to spot some Pika, and unfortunately I didn't see any but I did get to see some pretty cool mushroom rocks and stunning views!

The drive down towards Estes Park was equally stunning with views of the forested lower peaks and absinthe-green valleys

Finally I made it to my campsite! It was my favorite campsite of the trip so far, spacious and set back from the road in a glen with perfect trees to set up my hammock.

Monday, September 19 - Four (Five, Six) Lakes Hike

I got up at dawn again to start my hiking day early - I was determined to hike most of the Bear Lake area of RMNP via the Four Lake Loop (but I added in a few extra lakes!)

I watched the sunrise over bear lake, and then found a perfect spot to make breakfast and coffee on my way to Dream and Emerald lakes.

The colors of the various glacial lakes on this hike were beautiful variations of turquoise and teal. Dream Lake (pictured above) was more of a greenish color similar to Emerald Lake just a bit more of a climb past it. I got to see a beautiful small waterfall on my way up to Emerald.

My favorite lake by far on this hike was Lake Haiyaha, which was a light mint turquoise color due to a recent rockslide releasing many glacial minerals into the lake!

On the way down from Lake Haiyaha towards the Loch I made some new friends, Suzy, Beth and Wyatt from Georgia! We hiked most of the afternoon together trading adventure stories. Because I was with them I continued on towards Sky Pond where they were headed (a bit further of a hike than I had planned for myself) and got to see some incredible vistas from a higher elevation!

Finally the sun was making its way down in the sky so I decided to head back down towards camp. The cottonwoods were changing color in this more arid part of the landscape, and the yellow contrast against the dark green and bright blue sky (seriously the most blue sky I've ever seen) was absolutely gorgeous.

On the drive back to my campsite, I saw a lot of people gathered by a meadow, and realized that there must be elk to view there! I was too tired to check it out, but decided I'd do so in the morning. Exhausted, I collapsed in my tent after making a quick dinner and was asleep by 9pm!

Tuesday, September 20 - The Elk Rut, Sprague Lake & Heading to Boulder

Again I got up at dawn, this time to go visit some Elk friends! I didn't know prior to my visit, but I got so lucky that the Elk Rut was just beginning upon my arrival in RMNP.

What is the Elk Rut? It's an incredible annual mating ritual for elk where males (bulls) compete to build harems of females (cows) by sparring and making haunting bugling sounds!

A large herd had settled into the meadow just by my campground, so I was able to walk over as the sunrise was turning the mountains into a bright pink backdrop. There were dozens of professional and amateur nature photographers out already.

I even got to witness some sparring! I tried to upload the video here but for some reason it wasn't working.

After I watched the Elk for an hour or so, I headed back to pack up my camp. I stopped by Sprague Lake to make lunch and got to see some trout swimming up stream (Natalie, if you're reading this I thought of you the whole time!)

Unfortunately it was then finally time for me to head out of the park. I made one more visitor center stop at Fall River on my way out. And I even got to say hello to another herd of elk just hanging outside a Safeway Supermarket in the town of Estes!

My day ended with an arrival that evening in Boulder to visit with my good friend Sarah Jane and her adorable son Hendrix for a couple of days.

I'll share more in a post next week about my stay in Boulder, and my journey to Wyoming to explore Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks!

[mx-metronome]

Hello, skyblr! Finally coming out and sharing my ideas/theories for Sky! This post is INSANELY long, but I hope you’ll stick around for the entire deal! Spoilers under the cut, just to warn you! (also I refer to the elders by the names given to them by the skyblr community)

tl;dr: It’s suggested even by TGC’s concept art that each of the realms represents a stage of life. I’m gonna take it a step further and say that not only is that true to the individual, but also the civilization pictured throughout the game.

 We’ll start from the beginning of the game and establish some evidence as we go.

Part the First: The Isle of Dawn

Birth. Nascence. The first establishment of existence. The Isle of Dawn is aptly named, being the first point of contact of the people that fell from the stars. They came on ships of stone, riding the newborn winds into this uncharted land, hoping to eventually settle. Pictures drawn of light can be seen carved out of the walls, a primitive method of documentation akin to cave paintings in the earliest times of our own society.

Remnants of the ships can still be found throughout a number of the lands, but especially so here, buried in the sands. The spirits that can be found here are identified as voyagers and stargazers - sailors making land for the very first time.

The elder of the Isle, Daleth, carries a cane, which is significant enough to make up the isle’s constellation. Perhaps they are like a shepherd, guiding the people to their new beginnings. Perhaps the cane just looks really, really cool.

The emotes learned here are directional, like pointing and following.

Part the Second: The Daylight Prairie

They locate the prairie, which signifies childhood. The flowers and the butterflies of light are in abundance here, symbolizing the purity and innocence of youth  still untouched by society.

Here, the society is still in its infancy. The people see the untapped potential in this land, and they begin to plant their roots. Any notable settlements are still small and scattered, but supply lines are quickly established via boats carrying large pots across the clouds. The pots seem to be full of light, a valuable resource that several spirits here can be seen gathering and transporting.

The elder of the Prairie, Ayin, is also pictured as a worker of some kind, and they are depicted with a pot of light, hence the constellation’s shape. The transporting of light is critical to the continued development of the civilization.

The emotes learned here are very basic (like learning to wave hello) or childlike (like charming butterflies or laughing), among a few others.

Part the Third: The Hidden Forest

The forest is a symbol of adolescence: it’s a seeking of identity and all the growing pains it entails.

This light painting (the last one the can be found in the game’s progression [I think], another sign of the advancement of this people) shows the population carrying themselves deeper into areas of richer resources to further expand. And expand they do!

Their structures grow larger and more sturdy. Additionally, the doors through each wall are made of iron and small crystals of....blue light? A similar blue to that of the strange plants that can be seen growing everywhere. These plants of darkness seem to be appearing in larger numbers now: there were zero in the Isle of Dawn, and few enough in the Daylight Prairie that they’re easy to miss. Here they’re not rampant, but they are starting to command attention.

The darkness isn’t necessarily an absence of light, but rather an antithesis to light: the two are opposites but equally powerful in their own unique ways, and both can be seen in the forests’ constructions. There is also some evidence that darkness literally spreads through negative emotions such as hopelessness and sadness, as shown in the memories of the Tearful Light Miner:

While their crew is mining, there’s a cave-in, and all of their friends are injured by the falling rocks. One friend survives the initial collapse, but they are mortally wounded by the affair. This scene here could be their friend resigning to their unavoidable death, and their hopelessness manifests itself as a darkness plant growing out of them. A small detail which is only symbolically important, but tucks itself into the meta quite nicely later.

Returning to the story, the big theme here in the forest is industrialization. Lumberjacks, miners, prospectors, and pioneers can all be found here, striking their claim on this new soil and its resources aplenty. Structures are larger and more numerous, but at the cost of deforestation and putting a lot of holes in the cliffs for mining. Butterflies are not as common now, so alternative sources of light had to be found (more discussion about the harvesting of light from the light creatures can be found here in this post, and it’s this post that in fact inspired this entire post of my own).

Both light and darkness are being harvested from the earth (and possibly even synthesized, if the negative emotions becoming dark plants is taken literally) and fashioned into tools and machinery. The elder of the Forest, Teth, is a blacksmith, and the constellation is a hammer and anvil, a testament to the people’s industrial revolution. Their temple itself is a massive piece of machinery, an impressive feat of engineering only indicative of a civilization accelerating its growth and advancing towards a golden age.

Coincidentally, this oncoming of darkness is also reflected in the emotes learned here, such as apologetic, anger, worry, and crying.

Part the Fourth: The Valley of Triumph

The Valley of Triumph symbolizes young adulthood and is the pinnacle of this society’s achievements. Buildings and structures here are HUGE: entire cities, castles, and the technological advancements are like nothing anyone’s ever seen.

Here the populace has put less focus into expansion and more into the development of its culture. The architecture is much more colorful and stylized. Sporting events such as the races down the slopes or through the clouds are means of entertainment. The citadel’s orrery could indicate a deep understanding of astronomy and mathematics. 

There are twin elders in the Valley: Sah and Mek, and they’re athletes! Whatever sport it is they play involves the use of long sticks, and it’s their two crossed sticks that make up the constellation, emphasizing the establishment of life’s greater pleasures and a thriving culture. A lot of the spirits found here are either athletic in some capacity or are out here living their best life.

The emotes learned here are of pride and athletic ability. Cheering is also noteworthy here, as happiness and enjoyment are highlighted in this realm.

The most curious part of this realm is that there are no darkness plants to be found, and I think the reason for that is that the populace is so swept up in its shows and studies that it’s distracted from its inevitable collapse that will soon follow. Perhaps these people don’t realize what is coming. So what is coming?

Part the Fifth: The Golden Wasteland

The Golden Wasteland symbolizes late adulthood, maybe even a sort of midlife crisis. It’s in this stage that the society begins to break down. The reasons for the upheaval are part of the game’s unsolved mystery, but there are some details of note to be highlighted in this realm.

The structures here are the biggest we’d seen so far, and many of them are a lot like strongholds: Huge, thick walls; pipes of awesome size; and what used to be giant columns dot the sandy wastes. The water is polluted beyond purification; bones of large, long dead creatures are scattered across a hunting ground; and not only are darkness plants in abundance here, but an entirely new embodiment of darkness is also introduced: the krill. 

Krill are a curious creature: not much, if anything, is known about their origins, but their presence as active seekers and destroyers of light could symbolize war and hatred, as an angry or upset individual would try to drag down others from feelings of happiness to the alternative. It is easier to succumb to the darkness and fall from light than it is to climb back out, and it appears that’s what this civilization has done.

In their pride and vanity, political disagreement had sprung into full-scale battles and skirmishes. Barricades pepper the land, especially just outside the temple. The people resorted to weaponizing darkness and blotted out light altogether (notice how fewer candles can be found here than in other realms). The world drowned in despair which only spread the darkness faster. It was like a nuke that left fear and anger in its wake with no chance for light to flourish again. All that remains now are the skeletons of stone and bone, memories of a dying people.

The elder here, Tsadi, is a warrior of renown strength, proficient with the constellation’s shape: a spear and shield. They likely fought along the barricades just outside the gates, desperate to protect any survivors that made it inside.

The spirits here are fighters, survivors, people that are struggling to stay alive in the chaos, and their emotes match that. 

So, after this civilization burned itself to the ground, what remained?

Part the Sixth: The Vault of Knowledge

The Vault of Knowledge symbolizes old age. With no more strength and no more people, all that remains is the collection of knowledge they had accumulated throughout their history, from the Isle to the Wasteland, and any lessons that could be learned from it all.

The realm itself is one giant structure: a tall tower packed to the brim with knowledge stored as light. Light is in abundance here: it fills the room as you climb it, and memories of mantas and other light creatures dwell within here as well. There are little bits of buildings, floating platforms, and large skeletons on display, almost like a museum of the world that once was. 

The elder here is Lamed, and the Vault’s constellation resembles a codex: one of the many lanterns found throughout the vault where texts are kept. In their cutscene, they appear tired and hopeless. The Vault is all that’s left between the source of the darkness and the rest of the world.

Scholarly spirits walked the halls and recorded as much history as they could before they too were wiped out by the impending darkness, vainly hoping that their mark on the world would be left behind in the stories they told so that they might not be forgotten. The emotes learned here are of praying and meditation, strongly suggesting the theme of pausing and reflecting on all that had transpired.

It is here that your journey begins to come to an end as you reflect on the realms that you’ve seen and the people you watched rise and fall. They weren’t forgotten because you witnessed it all. They succeeded, in a way.

The Vault of Knowledge is unique in that at the top of the level, not just one elder statue sits, but all SIX are there. This realm isn’t a part of the society’s story: it IS the story. 

As you progress through the level, the constellations are revealed to you, one by one.

In the cutscene where all six elders bow to you and thank you for guiding the spirits home, a song plays. What’s the official title of that song in the soundtrack?

“The Story So Far.”

Lamed and the other elders told you their story. About the rise and fall of their people, blinded by ambition and by a thirst for both light and darkness. In their attempt to balance the two powers, darkness ultimately won, and now no one remains.

Only a vault. The room of six statues is a new addition, as they all seem cleanly cut and without any wear. They were built intentionally, shortly before the darkness destroyed everyone, as a means to tell that story to whomever may find them.

This was the old room. Where Lamed’s statue once stood is now an empty pedestal. The light is now gone, and the soft blues and blacks of the rest of the level are now a dark, dull gray. The only decent source of light is from the occasional flashes of lightning from the storm beyond. The rest of the Vault was sealed off to protect its contents and its people who all died within, leaving this top chamber to be consumed.

Finale: The Eye of Eden

The most mysterious of the seven realms, Eden symbolizes death, an inevitability for all. I don’t have a lot to go off of for this part, but the red diamond that rests at the top of the mountain seems to be neither light nor darkness. It’s emitting a ray of golden light up to the heavens, but it’s also showering the mountain in a dark storm of rocks. So, which is it?

The scene shown from the Vault cutscene depicts the mountain with the diamond at the top. There also sits a monarch of some kind underneath it. Is this king the one that weaponized darkness and brought the fall of his people? There’s a lot of speculation behind this one.

I believe the diamond is death itself. Death is the most powerful tool a king can have, for there’s no threat to your power if all your competition is in the ground. But a warmonger invites violence to his doorstep, and he and all his people perished as a result.

But the diamond itself is not to be feared. Yes, it’s spouting darkness across the land, and that’s all a mortal will ever see. But on the other side of that dark storm is the beam of pure light shooting into the heavens, something only the deceased will embrace and understand. Death is an ending. Death is a release.

The spirits all needed a little light to find their way to that other side. So you lit them with your candle. You taught them how to feel love and happiness again, something that widespread darkness took from them. 

And when you fell and collapsed under the darkness yourself, some other sky kid came along and granted you their winged light so you may pass on too.

And you and the spirits, now freed from the suffering of darkness by way of just a taste of light, returned to the stars from whence you came.

....Uhh, the end? That’s my super hot take? Add to it if you like?

[sapphire-spirit]

The World of Ukana

Amakany (Amakani)

The City in the Sky

Brief history: Amakany was one of the first major settlements and the first of the Seven Cities founded on Ukana. The term “city” is really more of a region. It stretches across the Eti’rey Mountain range in all directions. There are no strictly defined towns or borders, just lose communities that work together. Amakany is governed by a small council made up of the heads of the farming communities from all over the mountains. During the war, the de’lahn attacked and destroyed Amakany’s center, what many consider the real “city” of Amakany. The center of their government, messaging system, and defensive force was destroyed as well.

Personality: During the war, the Amakanians were some of the first to join the fight, not for glory or heroics, but because it was right, even after their capital city was destroyed. They are a hardworking and selfless people, believing strongly in a “one for all, all for one” mentality, and will always put others first. Vanity is greatly frowned upon, and thus they tend to be more reserved.

Appearance: Amakanians are some of the most diverse in all Ukana, sporting a wide range of skin and hair colors. Their eyes tend to be dark and hooded to protect from the sun. Freckles are very common. They tend to be on the shorter side.

Amakians: Amakians are those who have been gifted with the power of flight by the Pearl Spirit. They appear otherwise normal in appearance, but have the ability to transform themselves into bird-like hybrids made of pale golden feathers. They are the messengers of Ukana and many have been all over the world.

General professions: Farmers, craftsmen, miners, messengers (Amakians only)

Suggestions for skills/traits: hardworking, humble, selfless, logical, empathetic, foraging, farming, organization, strategic thinking

[dragonshifter-minecraft]

Chapter 6 - History

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2573]

[Content Warnings: Fear]

In quiet contempt, Dream had grabbed the tome that detailed dimensional scrolls and started up the stairs. Meddling with dimensions was a science far too uncertain for his tastes – he’d just have to find somewhere in the Overworld where they could transform without worrying about the prying eyes of humanity. Unfortunately, despite the vast wilderness that made up the majority of the world, there were so many roads and settlements that a truly unobserved area was difficult to find.

As he reached the upper floor, he pushed his door open, stepping into his room and sliding the book back into the slot in the bookcase from whence he’d retrieved it. His gaze lingered on the other books for a time, scanning their aged spines as he contemplated his next move. That’s when his eyes fell upon probably the oldest volume in his collection, an ancient journal kept by a Dragonshifter that lived long ago.

His fingers delicately closed on the deteriorated leather binding, pulling out the book with extra care so as not to damage it. He then sat down at his desk, gently opening the front cover to flip through the yellowed pages. It was a long account of a war that had taken place, a war that had been lost to time and forgotten from history. Its author did not give his true name, but merely identified himself as ‘Fit’.

The journal contained everything from names, to battles, and even to ancient combat techniques and forgotten technologies. There was documentation of spells and alchemical methods that were no longer practiced, great architectural feats that didn’t exist anymore, and the tales of numerous factions that warred ceaselessly on one another for gain and glory. But that is not why Dream had retrieved this particular volume.

He paused on one of the last few pages, reading with great interest:

The war is over. Asgard II has fallen. Pyro, Caines, Tachrev, and I have rallied the remainder of our troops together to head north. We have fled to the mountains to regroup, but we can’t take another battle like that without a base of operations. The caves have been calling my name since we got here. Once camp is set up, I think I’ll head down and see what I can find.

~

Gold! These caves are lined with gold! The others didn’t believe me at first, but I finally persuaded Caines to come look. Everyone else is in agreement – these mineral-rich caves will give us everything we need to build our civilization. There’s so much gold that I jokingly suggested we line our streets with it, though I think Tachrev is actually considering it. We’ve been in debates over what to name our new home, but we finally managed to narrow it down.

It shall be called Aureus City.

~

I’ve been heading into caves that are higher up the mountain, away from everyone else. It’s easier to mine gold with dragon’s claws, especially when you can sense its presence, and also see in the dark better than anyone else. Pyro knows what I’m up to, so he can deflect suspicion if it comes down to it. I’ve already filled a couple minecarts with gold, and there’s still more further down the caves. I should probably head back, since my lantern is about to go out.

There were no other entries after that; all subsequent pages had been left blank.

Dream had found the journal lying untouched on the stone floor of an abandoned mineshaft, in those same mountains described in its very pages. He hoped that it had simply been forgotten, and not that the Dragonshifter had been hunted and slain like any common beast.

He felt lucky to have found that journal in the first place – it seemed to be the only recorded history that the abandoned settlement had left. But that was not why he had decided to flip through the book once more.

Aureus City – it was a place that few others dared travel anymore. Its little surviving history spoke of golden architecture, which had been the target of looters and bandits after the city had fallen. No sane human would venture there, for there was nothing to be gained after all these years. The once-golden settlement had been in ruins for hundreds of years, and one would have to be crazy to think that there was anything of value left to find.

Beyond the rumors surrounding it, the ancient city was located just beside a mountain range, complete with large caves and a nearby birch forest. If there was anywhere in the Overworld that was safe for a pair of dragons to fly without worrying that they would be seen, Dream could think of nowhere better.

But for now, he needed to work on warming George up to the idea. The other Dragonshifter seemed in no hurry to assume dragon form ever again, to say nothing of ever setting foot outside of the dimension again. Dream could hardly blame him; he’d been through a lot in two days. George was going to need time.

As far as Dream was concerned, they had all the time in the world.

…

George wasn’t entirely sure what to make of his… gracious host.

The man in green was the first Dragonshifter he’d ever met, and that alone set him apart from everyone else. He seemed nice enough, though he was often joking and sarcastic, which became more and more evident with each conversation. It was clear that Dream liked to tease, but it never came across as mean-spirited. Regardless, George was never really sure how to react to being poked fun at.

Further, and to George’s great disgust, Dream had nothing against transforming into a dragon whenever he felt like it. There wasn’t much in this dimension, beyond a small garden and a pen of sheep to tend to. If he had nothing better to do, the slayer would regularly take off to fly a few laps around the island, or settle down on the main island to nap in the sun. He seemed far too comfortable in his dragon form, at least for George’s sensibilities.

He shuddered to consider what his own parents might’ve done to him if he dared to shift as often as Dream.

Whenever the man in green would transform, George was always careful to stay in the house. The momentary panic he’d felt at seeing the beast for the first time was still fresh in his mind. He was somewhat thankful that there had been a fair distance between them, and that he’d transformed to be at a comparable size not long afterwards. The last thing he wanted was to run into that massive creature in his human form.

Not that he held anything against Dream, necessarily – it was just an uncomfortable situation that he would’ve rather avoided.

For a time, he contented himself with going though his own magical books. He lacked many of the tools and resources required to perform even the simplest of feats, but he was still interested in learning the material, and reading helped pass the time.

Though after a day spent slogging through the finer points of Golemancy, George honestly felt like chucking the tome against the far wall. He instead settled for placing it roughly down on one of the crates in his room. It knew what it had done.

Groaning to himself, he plucked off his glasses to rub at his eyes. He’d been skimming increasingly incomprehensible pages for days, now. He spared a glance towards the other books he owned, knowing that although they possessed information on vastly different areas of Thaumaturgy, they’d likely only frustrate him further. He needed to read something that wasn’t a spellbook.

At that moment, he was reminded that Dream had a pretty decent collection of books in his room. Of course, he wasn’t about to go through them without permission – he wouldn’t have known where to start, anyway. That left him with only one option.

He’d have to go ask Dream.

Judging from the sounds he’d heard a couple hours earlier, the dragon was currently settled in the clearing on the central island, basking in the sun and likely asleep. And given how George had yet to hear the door open to signify his host’s return, he was probably still napping.

George found himself in a quandary. He didn’t want to risk running into the beast up-close, but he was so sick of what little he had to read. He didn’t want to be impolite or nosy and just barge into Dream’s room to go through his stuff. George almost wanted to wait for the slayer to come back inside, but then, there was no telling how many more hours he’d have to wait.

Sliding his glasses back onto his face, George made up his mind. He was getting nowhere by sitting around and fretting. He was just going to go ask.

Out the door and down the rough path he walked, approaching the waterfall. Above the din of the rushing water, and before he’d even spotted the shimmering scales, George had heard the steady whooshing of breath. Rounding the hill and looking beyond the waterfall, he was suddenly faced with its source.

The bright green dragon was curled up in the middle of the large floating island, tail curled around his hind legs and wings tucked in close to his sides. His neck was stretched out and relaxed, his head resting in the grass at a perpendicular angle to the rushing water, though still at a fair distance away from it. The beast’s eyes were peacefully closed, his slow, level breaths seeming to indicate that he was sleeping.

George jumped carefully across the stone path jutting up from the water, and landed securely on the other side.

The dragon’s ear twitched lazily.

The other Dragonshifter was swiftly reminded of how incredibly large the beast was, and how small he was, in comparison. To think that true dragons were even bigger…!

He stepped forward cautiously, grass crunching softly under his boot.

The dragon’s ear twitched again, and his nostrils flared as he abruptly took in a disturbed breath.

George’s resolve wavered.

The green beast’s eyelids lifted, his head raising up as he turned his groggy gaze towards the source of the sound that had awoken him. He blinked, squinting in confusion.

“George?” he inquired curiously, tilting his head.

Tinted glasses were all that prevented the dragon from seeing how wide and terrified the other Dragonshifter’s eyes were. All at once, his body had frozen up, refusing to move as he stared up at the creature’s face. He tried to speak, but found he had no voice.

Verdant, reptilian slits regarded him for several tense moments, while George silently cursed himself for thinking this was a good idea.

Dream was at a loss. He hadn’t expected George to wake him up, like this. Heck, he’d even noticed that the other Dragonshifter deliberately avoided him whenever he transformed. Now, his guest stood before him, completely petrified. Dream had no idea what to make of the situation, nor did he have a clue what he was doing outside in the first place. Though he figured he might as well attempt to calm George down.

Besides, if there was ever a time to show him that being a dragon was nothing to fear, this was it.

Slowly, the dragon shifted position, lowering himself to be at the same level as the other Dragonshifter while trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. His head stretched out gradually, his chin coming to rest on the ground less than two feet away from where George was standing. Dream let his expression relax, blinking slowly as he let out a soft, pleasant rumble.

George was not a fan of how close the dragon had gotten. Though admittedly, the green beast didn’t do much beyond that. He wasn’t pouncing or biting – he’d just calmly laid his head within arm’s reach.

Seconds passed in palpable silence.

Watching suspiciously for any sudden moves on Dream’s part, George slowly sat down cross-legged in the grass. His whole body was stiff as a board, though he found himself blinking in surprise as the beast lightly snorted in his face. It thankfully didn’t seem to be out of anything malicious, so George tried not to let it get to him.

The dragon continued to look at him thoughtfully.

His slitted eyes, though unsettling, were far too intelligent and aware to be those of a mindless beast. George had to remind himself that the dragon before him wasn’t some monster – he was a thinking, feeling person. A person whom he knew. That fact hadn’t changed, even if his appearance had.

George swallowed hard.

Tremblingly, he extended a cautious hand toward the dragon’s snout. He wasn’t sure what came over him; though he was even less sure of what more he could do.

Dream regarded the gesture for a moment.

The beast’s head leaned forward, and George felt warm, smooth scales press up against his fingers. Another gust of breath stirred his brown hair, the rumbling sound in the dragon’s chest seeming to deepen.

As far as Dream was concerned, it was definitely an improvement!

Eventually, George awkwardly retracted his hand, and the dragon’s head retreated to a respectful distance. One of his paws reached up to scratch at a few dry scales on his neck.

“So, what brings you out here?” he asked. “You usually avoid me when I’m like this.”

The other Dragonshifter slouched his shoulders a bit at the latter statement. Yeah, he’d obviously been avoiding the dragon when he was, well, a dragon. But he hadn’t meant to seem rude, or even really let on that he was avoiding Dream.

George’s train of thought was derailed as soon as he noticed the way the beast was scratching at himself. It seemed like most of his scales had become dulled somehow, and as his ivory claws raked across them, the dull ones fell away to reveal shining new ones.

“…um,” was all he managed to choke out.

The green dragon paused, looking at George more sharply, then turning to glance at the shimmering green patch on his shoulder, right where he’d just been clawing at.

“Sorry, dragons really weren’t designed to nap in the sun, but I need the scales,” he clarified briefly, planting his paws on the ground and forcing himself not to pay attention to the terrible itching that was now assaulting his entire neck and back. “What did you need?”

“I… I was wondering about your collection of books,” the other Dragonshifter started tentatively.

“What about them?”

“Err, I’ve been reading my spellbooks for the last few days, but they’re so boring,” he complained. “I was just wondering if you had anything more… interesting, I guess?”

The beast’s brow furrowed in thought.

“Well, I don’t have any novels or anything,” he mentioned. “Mostly just books about magic and illusions, stuff like that. I won’t even recommend the enchanted ones, ‘cause they’re full of nothing but chicken scratch. Hm…”

At that moment, a certain journal bound in worn leather and with disintegrating pages came to mind.

“…Actually, I’ve got this journal I found in a cave a while back,” Dream mentioned with growing excitement. “It’s got a lot of history that’s been mostly forgotten. Better yet, it was written by a Dragonshifter…”

[Author’s Note: This is a bit of a filler chapter, but I wanted to take a small break between the action. It also wouldn’t make sense for Dream to be pushing George so hard after what happened at the beginning of the previous chapter. Anyway, 2B2T! It’s the oldest anarchy server in Minecraft, though it’s not exactly one of the centerpieces of MCYT. I don’t plan to expand on it too greatly, but in regards to the story, think of 2B2T as its own era in the history of the Overworld – a time when civilization was much more savage and cutthroat. Things have cooled down a lot since then, but at the same time, many ancient technologies have been lost over time. It’s a miracle Fit’s journal survived, really.]