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Ceele strolled through the damp grass along the outskirts of the village, a spring in her step and the dwindling scent of dew following behind. It rained yesterday, which had prevented her from going out to gather supplies, but the mild morning air had been accommodating enough for her to get an early start and make the trip. She was glad she did.
One hand clutched her new prize to her chest, while the other held a fraying wicker basket filled with herbs and some edible roots she gathered by exploring the forbidden forest. Despite her reservations regarding where she chose to go, her excitement now lingered like a steady thrum of shifting stones, giving her energy that defied how long she had been walking. She all but pranced beneath the burgeoning night's sky, gleefully toeing the line between the dirt pathways of the settlement’s outskirts and the trees of unclaimed land. Normally, her path back home would never be so close to the village, but she was far too gleeful to mind. She had come back with a sense of fulfillment and a rare object—or if not rare, then hopefully of great value.
It was hard to point to any one specific reason that she came across the orb. There had always been a ‘draw’ during her travels, urging her that there was something missing in her life, yet it was no more than a mild whim to walk in a particular direction more often than not. Once she reached this part of the continent, she was compelled to wander, never quite able to explain why she obliged the sensation besides having nowhere in particular to be. Even when she finally settled somewhere, it stayed in the back of her mind, suggesting that she was close to whatever would make the pit of vacancy go away. She ignored it, purposefully distracting herself with her work and responsibilities, yet that could only last so long. When she awoke this morning with plans to resupply, and all of her newfound spots had been picked clean by wildlife, she turned to the depths of the forest where she was warned not to tread. It was all too easy to follow the subtle tug in her chest through the loose justification.
The urge to be somewhere grew unbearable with every step closer to the forbidden area. That sense of having a direction she needed to go became stronger and stronger, until she was well into land long since forgotten. She came across an overgrown depression in the hillside, and was entranced by the foreboding image. Something about the cave just…beckoned her. She was far too weak to resist.
Horrible tales echoed into her ears as whispers of fearful voices, warning and unending, yet but a dull drone compared to her hammering heart. She navigated the trees and brushed aside unkempt vines, stepping into the cavern with a mix of expectation and trepidation, then laid eyes on the small obsidian stone perched atop a crumbling pillar. The feeling of needing to travel somewhere…stopped.
The pull was absent, which was why she held the orb close instead of placing it into her basket. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she recalled overheard tales of hidden gemstones, deep cavernous expanses, and the untold terrors that lay within. Comparing the scenes of those fables to the cave seemed foolish now; it wasn’t some torturous chamber, but a dusty depression in a small hillside. Besides, anything this pretty was sure to be worth a fair sum, and she needed the coin. Yet the thought of selling the precious-looking stone was a conflicting one. She shook off the thought for the time being, turning her attention back towards where she was going.
Shadows stretched and faded as the moon stole the last of the illumination afforded by the sun, replacing it with a calming glow that caressed the log frames and thatched roofs of various homes. A star-filled sky came into prominence as clouds lazily drifted away, revealing the promise of tomorrow’s fair-weathered arrival. It was too late for anyone to notice her treading on the edge of their town while lost in thought, but she was still careful not to get too close to the houses or livestock pens where people might be finishing the evening’s duties. It was best that they didn’t see her returning from a place she was told not to go. Still, her feet carried her near the dwellings as she took in the noises.
Ceele enjoyed the comforting chatter from a distance. Indistinct words floated freely. Meaningless gossip and warm goodbyes were exchanged between friends and family. Places of various occupations were dark and quiet, only the faint contented mewls and clucks of livestock coming from their pastures as they ate what was recently put out for them. No metal rang throughout the streets as it was struck inside a centralized smithy, no heated bartering came from an overactive trade house, and the crunch of dirt beneath transport or merchant wagons was absent, replaced by the rapid steps and yelps of children rushing to their homes before it got too dark out. It was all just gentle conversation and life drifting through the wind, taking the rustle of leaves along for the ride, just so she could hear it. Tranquil, in a word.
She wondered what it would sound like if she were yet one more voice within that crowd of kindness. Would it be loud like the larger cities? Would she struggle to maintain a thought with so many stray topics floating about? Would she once more yearn for the peace and quiet of solitude that she had grown used to, or would she immerse herself, free of judgment and laughing like the carefree young that scampered about? Did thinking about it even matter?
Her smile fell from its genuine intensity—still worn, but not as fully. She glanced downward as her stride lost its jubilant bounce, her tail losing its sway as her grey eyes examined the dry black scales that adorned her body against her wishes. It was the ugly hue of tarnished oil, unlike the skin of any other kobold she had met. Some had reds or greens, yellows or whites, while most were between a sandy tan or earthen brown. The rainbow of peculiarities was displayed by the lucky few, and she was one of them…
…Yet she was different in the worst of ways.
Even if she would rather any other colour, she supposed it was that way to make sure no one came near without accepting the unspoken risks. That was what her mother always said, anyway, though the woman hardly feared much of anything in her old age, and dedicated herself to giving her offspring all the love she had left to give—a perk of living a full life. She would always help her daughter bathe, complimenting the colour of what most were unnerved by. That was more than a decade ago now, however. Ceele’s parents had passed on while she was still young, and she took to travelling not long after, working at what she could to afford what little she needed. Never for long, though—just enough to get to the next town between where she was and where the urge to go lay. There were certainly moments she looked back on fondly, but the journey had taken its toll.
The crude material of her ‘dress’ was coarse, old, and heavy, but it helped ease the worst of spring's chill—even if it was more of a modified sack than proper attire. Still, it was all she had after the last of her clothing fell apart, and giving the repurposed material a name that reminded her of something else made it less uncomfortable to wear, somehow. It would have to do until she could afford a pitying seamstress or the like. Until then, she would pretend she didn’t look so desperate, even if it only highlighted her status and made finding work difficult.
But it did. The dishevelled garment was a far cry from the wonderful silks or breathtaking designs she had seen some women wear, harshly marking the distinction between herself and those of affluence. The clothing of commoners was also a leap in style and quality, so she couldn't say her attire was up to even modest standards. No matter how hard she squinted, and no matter how much she fantasized otherwise, she seemed every bit like the vagrant she was, down to the soil embedded in the curvature of her claws and the stains throughout her fabrics. She looked like a serf from the more oppressed lands, yet they too wore crude cottons, which said a lot about how she appeared to those who had never lived a life of servitude. It was obvious that she was an outsider. That she didn't belong amongst the rest. It made changing something as simple as her appearance all the more difficult; prospective employment always saw a young woman who seemed more likely to steal or swindle than make an honest day’s living.
There was one good twist of fate in recent memory, however, and she came upon the result of it after leaving the slowing bustle of the village behind. Her steps carried her through a small copse of trees on the outskirts of town, the small shaded path leading to the back of a large, carefully pruned clearing, a scattering of fruit-bearing trees providing even darker shadow than the already dim moonlight. She skirted along the aging fence on the border that kept predatory animals away, carefully hoisting herself over the barrier where a large vegetable garden she was responsible for tending resided. If one were to tell her she would be living in such an area several months ago, she would have smiled politely and walked away, yet here she was.
A modest, warmly lit home occupied the middle of the clearing, sitting front and centre when one approached from the village path. It looked quite cozy, surrounded by berry bushes that were just beginning to bloom as the last dregs of winter slipped away. A front patio displayed a nice table and well-loved chairs, the rustic appearance only adding to its charm as a place where friends and family spent the warm summer afternoons. A smithy to the left of the house functioned as an additional heated building during the colder months, but usually served as a storefront and to muffle the sounds of hammered iron, though that had become less common. An old stable was nearby, close enough to be accessible, but not so close as to disturb the once occupying animals with sounds of iron craft. It hadn't seen a horse in quite some time, apparently, so it was mostly a workshop for whatever tasks didn’t require fire or metal.
There was a long history attached to each little detail—from the scuffs along the wooden siding to the depressions in the ground where daily routine wore into the earth. Every fault suffered throughout the years was matched by a thousand quirks that made it feel welcoming, like the house itself was merely waiting for the next friendly face with one of its own. She knew that the inside of each building would look just as cared for.
Her concern lay outside, however. It was a comparatively miniscule space just barely visible through the sheltering trees, true, yet it was where her efforts turned into tangible results, and where a stranger’s trust was painstakingly repaid. Once overgrown grass had been laboriously trimmed, the weeds plucked and disposed of, and now nothing distracted from what she could claim she had done.
The small plots of rock-bordered soil had little buds of growing vegetables, a sense of pride never failing to bloom in her breast with the knowledge that it would be barren without her touch. When her troubles and concerns grew heavy, and fears of the future or spectres of the past loomed over her head, she could look at where she had brought life where it wouldn't otherwise be. Some days, that was enough. She smiled in appreciation at what was admittedly amateur work, the night’s sky helping to hide any inevitably made mistakes.
She enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to walk towards a neglected old tool shed that was well out of sight within the trees, far away from whatever warmth and comfort the larger house offered to everyone and anyone. She put a hand on the degrading wood of the entryway, giving one last sad smile at the garden as she dismissed selfish thoughts of taking the eventual harvest for herself. A breath cleared the uncertainty from her voice, and she pushed open the door.
“I'm home!”
= = = = =
It took a while for Altier to adjust to his situation, and even once he accepted that his mana wasn't being siphoned, he was still reeling from confusion. He had spent centuries with every year passing by without his notice, yet now he was painfully aware of each creeping second languidly dragging on with the expediency of growing grass. It was as disorienting as it was painfully nostalgic.
Time was something he was never good with, and it only got worse as a dungeon. He'd get lost in creating rooms, corridors, creatures, and whatever else needed doing, only pausing to watch or listen to the few adventurers he became interested in. There was a stint where he spent what felt like hours agonizing over new abilities or options while he let the system manage things in the background, though he supposed it might have been much longer. So many wasted days, yet he still hadn't managed to try everything he had gained access to. Some abilities were simply too niche, came with concerning titles, or held descriptions that made him wary. Anything with ‘Decay’ in the name was instantly ignored—he didn't need more reasons to fear his affinity, and from the few he took the effort to read through, they were always vile.
But his existence for the moment was no longer like those endless stretches spent pondering the minutiae of what would help his adventurers grow stronger. Now, he could follow the rhythmic sounds of footsteps and steady breathing that set a calming pace. They were someone else's, yes, but they contextualized how easy it was to slip away without the subtle noises of life that he had long since surrendered to help his family. Of course, there were more differences that he noticed since being removed from his crumbling cavern, and his sight was the newest change.
He never gave much thought to how far he could see before. Why would he? As a man, his world extended as far as he could fathom, yet was also confined to the room where he spent his days, and as a dungeon… Well, who was he to consider distance when an event happening miles away could be seen with a flicker of thought? Nothing was too far when it was within his creation. Or his ‘body,’ he supposed. Sadly, his entire perception currently consisted of the small sphere of his obsidian core, and maybe a finger's length beyond it—which is to say, not much. He could make out the fine details in the dirty burlap he was held against, and how pale moonlight slowly took over the blurred reds of sunset, but hardly anything more. It was all just frosted colours after a certain point, and he found it infinitely frustrating. He just wanted to peer beyond the haze and scaly hand holding him to confirm that the sky he remembered was still there. Alas, the sunlight faded at too quick a pace, yet one oh so agonizingly slow.
The ensuing darkness gave him nothing to do but think about where he was, not that he had any ideas. He was too curious about why he wasn't dead to bother much with his blurry surroundings after the soft-spoken kobold abducted him, thus why he only belatedly noticed how limited his worldview had become. There might have been a forest beyond his cave, but the greens and browns were gone, and the sounds of steps through brush was replaced by the distant din of a village. An idle curiosity pondered if he would recognize any descents of his ‘family tradition’ adventurers there, but he was being carried by what most considered a monster, so likely not.
That short musing was short-lived, however, and he brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He supposed he was being taken somewhere specific, but that was an obvious deduction, considering he was taken at all. The why of the matter was less so; for what purpose would someone want a Decay-aligned core? He hadn’t heard of them before…well, before he was made into one, but he couldn’t imagine many uses. Maybe he was being sold? His…kidnapper? His sudden companion seemed rather pleased by their discovery of him, so that might be the case, and it was morbidly amusing to think that a frail, sickly young man might one day become a coveted, highly valuable item. His abduction could also be a part of some cult’s nefarious activities, but he didn't want to think about that too hard. He experienced enough odd ceremonies from the adventurers who took the time to tell him their tales.
Either way, he wasn't in the dungeon anymore, and he couldn’t see where he was going. He tried to query his menu to glean an answer, but was met with a scrambled mess he suspected read ‘Synchronizing…’ and little else. It gave him a headache trying to make sense of it—which he didn't know was possible anymore—so he dismissed the text and distracted himself with blurs from whatever diluted senses he still had. There wasn’t much to observe other than the constant footfalls and the flicker of shadows on his companion’s burlap garment. They might have travelled through brush again, but it was too dark to really say for certain.
Eventually, there was something new. He heard an old latch rattle and rusted door hinges groan, then a shuddered clack that confirmed he was now in a building. His kobold acquaintance gently cooed at something before moving about the nearly pitch-black space, finally setting him down on a… He wasn’t sure what it was, besides old and wooden.
[D$#@m$n E@$*ded]
The headache from before became a blinding migraine that suffocated him under a flash-flood of suffering. Seconds passed in abject torture until it blissfully abated, the mental blinks clearing his mind enough to notice a change in his existence. Specifically, he could actually see something besides the rotting wood grain he was placed on top of.
And it wasn’t anything promising…
He was more or less in the centre of a room no bigger than twelve paces by maybe ten. Not a terrible size for a space, but it was clearly never meant to house someone. His resting place looked about as neglected as he surmised; it was an upturned feeding trough, he supposed, since calling it a table seemed too generous. The surface was rife with holes and degraded iron, so it was something that once saw regular use before being replaced and tossed into storage, never to see the light of day again.
Actually, most things in the room seemed to fit that description. The window shutters were installed with metal hinges that had since rusted them closed, the misalignment letting in a draft—and whatever weather was outside as well, most likely. A poorly carved bowl sat on the floor, the stain beneath it hinting that it collected any rainwater that slowly dripped from the leaky roof. The wooden floorboards looked old, splintered, and in need of maintenance or replacement, though an effort had been put into abrading it somewhat smooth lately.
A tiny and decrepit fireplace was to the left of the door upon entry, its brickwork slowly crumbling due to weathering and age. It was sized more for keeping the room warm during mild days than to keep away the frigid chill of night. Its base only held cold ashes, but there was a collection of deadwood and scraps nearby, so that would probably be rectified soon. A small wheel-less cart had been turned into storage against the opposite wall, some herbs and other foraged items stowed away in it for future use. Various things he remembered seeing his father and brothers use in the fields were scattered about, too. It was nostalgic to see, honestly, even if his recollections had blurred over time.
Bundles of tattered blankets formed a pair of nests in the far corner, the smaller of the two had a pile of rough plants nearby. That answered his silent pondering of the room's purpose somewhat, though he was pretty sure the bedding material was salvaged, and there didn’t seem to be any hay or padding underneath whoever was sleeping on it. He didn’t know what to think about the weeds; they were purposefully placed there, and whoever did so had taken the time to wash them, but it was still strange.
He couldn’t see a doorway besides the entrance, yet most of the hallmarks of residency were put where space could be afforded, however crude. All in all, he surmised that it was a gardening shed of sorts, and his new acquaintance apparently lived here. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when a creature he had only read about came into his dungeon, but it wasn't being brought to a rundown and decrepit shack for unknown purposes.
Even if he had been raised by parents who made a humble living at the best of times, and they had emptied their coffers for unsuccessful attempts to ease his ailments, his acquaintance's living space made him uncomfortable. His family's house was never anything fancy, true—it shared some of the worn qualities that inevitably gathered over the years—but it was never this bad. His home benefited from a father's touch keeping it robust and a mother’s love keeping it warm, whereas this place had seen neither in quite some time. Oh, there was evidence that such was once the case; a wall was adorned with carefully made and well-spaced hangers for the various gardening tools, though the implements themselves had become a victim of neglect. That being said, he could make out the fresh soil and recent scratches exposing furrows of silver, so they were seeing use again.
A scrape and clack of flint drew his attention to his kobold companion. They were kneeling in front of the fireplace, methodically sparking life back into a dead flame with twigs and dried leaves. A slow, steady breath into the reddened base illuminated its face with a dull orange glow, revealing its weary visage and the permanently etched smile that rested beneath its cold grey eyes. The black-scaled kobold looked tired, if he were to guess—much the same as Altier did when he spent countless days watching everyone living a life he could never have through the mossy window of his bedroom. He was probably humanizing it too much. Still, he was surprised by the muted pang of sympathy, and how he would feel much more than blithe curiosity after spending so much time alone in the crumbling crypt of his own making.
A mental breath cycled through him as he looked at the odds and ends yet to be observed. Hardly anything else was of note—everything else was degraded and neglected, too. He did notice a nest of blankets move though, which was as good a distraction as any. The answer to his previous ‘pile of weeds’ inquiry poked a tiny nose from a crease in the fabric, then rapidly pawed at the blankets to dig itself out. Altier stared at the creature in both recognition and confusion.
It was a rabbit…or at least it looked like one, assuming you were to also describe a porcupine and a sea urchin as well. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember any hare that had jagged metal-tipped fur, nor that had said fur arranged into a row of spiked horns that flowed down its spine, terminating at a large fluffy tail, which was equally bizarre to see. The whole of its coat could double as a weapon, with semi-sharp barbs sticking off seemingly at random, yet he remembered an adventurer saying most animals used that sort of thing defensively. He increased his focus as he tried to make sense of the odd creature. Surely he would have heard about—
[Hoppittttttt#%%÷ — Ferro-o-orabbit-it (Ma%$le)
Abil—]
[Null]
[Er0Rrrrrrrr—]
[Und#$f—]
He bit back the pain caused by the sudden intrusion of his menu, blanking out the text and mentally retreating to hide from the source. Did he just inspect something? How? Shouldn’t his entire…‘framework,’ was it…? Yes, that was it. Shouldn’t that have been corrupted? Why could he see the creature’s information when his entire framework was damaged? That was the first ability he lost, so why is it the first to be functional? How was it functional? Was it? It did just spit garbled text at him, but it was something, and that was more than he had gotten from it in a very long time. If it was somehow working—no matter how poorly—then that left the question of why he hadn't heard of anything called a ‘ferrorabbit’ before, assuming he read that correctly.
A soft thud vibrated the tro— table, startling him out of thought. He turned his attention to the button nose wiggling erratically at him, the short, stubby muzzle leading to surprisingly expressive and curious red eyes. Dull brown fur jutted off in random tufts and patches, changing to a darker tint on its paws and the upper half of its ears, while the tips of its spikes were a muted hue of iron. It still seemed just as soft as the less pointed variety he remembered, if a touch dirty. Upright ears twitched this way and that way as its head vigorously shook, eventually settling on pointing in his direction when it calmed down enough.
It was apparent that he had its undivided attention…for all of a few seconds. His scaly companion called something out in their foreign tongue, and whatever conclusion the pointy-furred animal came to, it seemed more interested in the kobold, parting from him after nudging his core with its nose.
[Cre-e-e—]
[Errrrrrr0r: Undefiiiiiiii—]
[Acceeeeep-t-t-t??]
[Yeeee— s s / Nnnnnnn—]
He winced at the intrusion, but the contents detracted from the pain. He couldn’t remember the system ever asking him a question without his explicit intent being involved. It wanted him to…accept something? Was it the system prompting him, or the animal? What was he to accept?
[Creatuuuuu—]
[Acce-e-e-%#@ed!]
…What?
= = = = =
“Hoppit, that's not food!” Ceele admonished half-heartedly, placing a larger branch on the burgeoning flame before she got to her feet. She wasn’t actually that worried; the stone was as big as his head, and she was pretty sure he couldn't bite into it. Hopefully. “Come here, momma has a treat for you!”
The ferrorabbit playfully bumped the gemstone and jumped off the low table, landing with a soft thud that belied how heavy he was for his tiny size. He wiggled in excitement, his ears flailing and releasing a slight clack whenever the two connected. It got even louder when she grabbed her basket and put away the useful herbs, taking out a specific item that she had gathered just for him. The little bun wasted no time in scurrying over and standing tall on his hind legs to judge if the offered plant was to his liking—and it was, based on how he dug in with enthusiasm. She stifled a laugh as she contentedly watched him nibble away on the treat, ignoring the guilt that came with knowing she couldn't afford proper vegetables for him. He had a hard life too, and it tore at her to have so little to give.
She came across Hoppit a year ago, during a storm that worsened while she was travelling between towns. The day had darkened to night in spite of it still being about noon, but the weather didn't care for how bright it was supposed to be. Wind and rain became a typhoon, forcing her to seek shelter in a thankfully abandoned den of what was probably a larger animal. She was fine with waiting out the squall, since the stone roof over her head was more than she usually had back then, but the sounds of dull bangs and thuds near her hideaway was followed by cries of animals yelping in pain. Curiosity won over reason, and she left the safety of her shelter to see what was causing the disturbance. Truthfully, she was hopeful that she'd come across scraps or the like, her hunger driving her forward, and she could always turn back if it seemed dangerous. Yet when she arrived at the source of the commotion, she found herself thinking of anything but food.
Two predators had fought over a small burrow, both trying to dig out a meal and taking offence to the other doing the same. What they didn’t know was that they were assaulting the home of ferrorabbits. Specifically, the home of an angry, protective, and well-fed mother that was keeping her newborns safe from the storm when predators decided to try their luck. From the scene Ceele came across, it was certainly obvious why most people dislike trying to hunt the creatures.
Sadly, the rabbit didn't survive an attack from two predators, but she did make their victory pyrrhic; neither could do much about their hunger with their bodies full of cuts and holes, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to blood loss or infection. The mother's sacrifice meant that the babies had avoided the imminent threat, but they were left unattended as a consequence, and it took an opportunistic bird swooping down to shake Ceele out of her shock. Despite her subsequent hurry, she only acted in time to save one of the orphaned young. The warren was new and barely dug out, which meant that it didn’t take much effort for the kits to be found—by both her and hungry maws. All she could do was scoop the ball of fluff into her arms and run back to the cave before anything else tried to eat it.
In retrospect, it was a stupid decision for a number of factors. She barely had the resources to supply herself, and an attempt to raise offspring of any type would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse. But when she saw how quiet and scared he was… How his tiny, shaking body calmed in her arms, those terrified red eyes seeking comfort… She should have just walked away when she knew there wasn’t going to be anything to fill her stomach. She should have put the baby animal down and let nature take its course…yet the preciously furry face stole her heart far too quickly for it to grow so cold. The next day was spent backtracking to the nearest town to get him something suitable to eat, which used most of her meagre savings. Still, it was worth every coin.
Hoppit had been accompanying her ever since. He grew quickly, transitioning from something she saved that stormy night into a presence she had grown to love like a child. The little lagomorph would bounce along beside her during her travels, then ride in her arms as he rested—though the latter happened with worrying frequency as of late. She hadn’t learned much about the springy herbivores, but she knew enough to say that he wasn't as big as he should be, nor was his fur as sharp. No matter how startled he was, his spiky coat never managed to do more than stiffen slightly, which was apparently a side effect of poor diet, according to snippets of conversation she had overheard on the topic. She wanted him to be healthy, but she didn't know what he needed. Not many farmers raised ferrorabbits, and those that did were far away, so she didn’t have anyone to ask what she should be doing. Her best course of action was to give him what little she had.
Ceele was well aware of how he would be better off on his own, but he followed her whenever she tried to set him free. Hoppit just kept launching into her arms and wiggling his ears, ecstatic that he was with her again, uncaring that food was scarce and that they spent most of their days travelling. No amount of cold nights spent bundling up under the tattered blankets she managed to find ever dampened his spirits, and he was content to eat the grass or flowers whenever he felt like it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He would dig and excitedly drag back oddities that he found, and the one time he found a plant that looked particularly good for him, he insisted that it be shared with her.
A black pit still lingered in her chest when she recalled how pleased he was while he munched on the rare vegetable he discovered, then how distressed he became when she wouldn’t have any as well. He bumped and nipped at her, all but begging her to eat. His ears pinned back against his head, his fur bristled in a way she hadn’t seen since. It was only when she took a small bite and let him inspect the new teeth marks that he seemed to calm down, but perhaps she had been looking too deep into the actions of her tiny friend. All she could say for certain was that he was scared she was going hungry.
A morbid thought wondered if his first mother had refused food shortly before being attacked, and he—as small and simple as he was—had connected the two events in his mind, making him absolutely terrified that something would happen if Ceele didn’t have something too. All of that fear, and desperation overwhelmed him, just because she was happier watching him eat. She was determined to erase that issue. She would find something that needed a worker and earn enough to feed them both. One day, she would be able to smile at how big and healthy her little fluffy boy had become, but until then, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think about how she was spending so much time growing vegetables and fruit that he couldn’t have…
Every morning was an exercise in tending to the gardens while actively shoving down images of a pleased ferrorabbit happily eating the results. That never went well; no matter how determined she was to complete her duties without a single selfish thought, most tasks were done while picturing his full belly and delighted bounces. There were a few weeks until the fastest of the crops would be ready for harvest, and Ceele would have to collect them while fighting the urge to bring back just a few for him.
She couldn’t, because she knew exactly how quickly that could escalate. It would start small—A vegetable here, a fruit there—but seeing Hoppit happy was one of the precious few good things she had in her life. Crossing the line would only become easier each time. They couldn’t risk losing their new home over greed, and she was already betraying the trust given to her by housing a wild animal, especially one known to be a pest for crops. She didn't want to know how angry it would make her benefactors if she was caught taking their vegetables for one.
No matter how tame and precious Hoppit was, and no matter how well he listened, they would only see him as the same creature that ruined harvests in droves. Thus was why she had to tell him to stay cooped up by himself while she was working or scavenging. And to her surprise, he did.
Honestly, she had made the initial request with the expectation of needing to carry him back into their home until he understood that she wasn’t leaving him forever. There wasn’t much she could do to stop the ferrorabbit from digging through the old wooden building if he wanted to get out. He wouldn’t need to damage anything either—a rotting board on the door only needed a little push to nudge it out of the way, and his natural curiosity made sure he was aware of it. But no, Hoppit was well-behaved as always, keeping hidden until she walked through the door, where he would leap from the shadows to personally show her how good he was and how he stayed put like she asked him to. It never stopped amazing her that he had such a surprising level of understanding despite being an animal, and that was to say nothing of how young he was.
All that intelligence, joy, and companionship he offered her…and yet the best she could give back to him was the weeds from the garden and the odd plant she found while scavenging…
Soft clacks of flicking ears dragged her from her pondering, her mind returning to the present. Hoppit finished his treat of the small plant, then bounced in place and scurried over to his bowl of water, perfectly happy to have eaten only that. He was so joyful with how little she provided, approaching every day of scarcity with the same enthusiasm she could never muster, as if certain that everything would be alright.
“It’s bedtime, Hoppit,” Ceele announced through a soft sigh, stoking the fire with enough branches to hopefully last the night. The ferrorabbit perked an ear in her direction, then sat on his haunches to extend the rest of himself up, his two little forepaws adorably held to his chest as he inspected the room like he always did. She smiled and made sure everything was stored away, then laid down on her bundle of blankets, covering herself with the warmest one. Hoppit bolted over to snuggle once he decided everything in the shed was up to his standards, throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flop of comfort. Her quiet laughter subsided as they both settled in for the night, her tail completing the rabbit’s encompassing cuddle, but her eyes fell towards the obsidian orb on the table, her thoughts following suit.
It sat there, just as she left it, as benign as anything else ever placed atop the improvised furnishing. Yet there was a sense of ease and purpose as well. The old wooden trough seemed…important with its adornment firmly laid upon its surface, and she couldn’t puzzle out why. She was starting to doubt her earlier excitement.
Should she sell it? Would anyone know where it came from? Would anyone know what it was, or if it was worth anything? If she could get even a modest sum for it, she would be able to buy clothing, food, and new bedding. It would be easier to convince someone to give her work if she was dressed better and wasn’t so thin, and then she would have the income to slowly improve both of their lives. She could pay for a wandering merchant to ask a ferrorabbit rancher about the animal, even if it would take time to get back to her, or maybe she could hire a local if they needed to go near one for some reason. The cost didn’t matter to her as long as it happened.
But there was something else bothering her about the idea of selling the stone. She had travelled so far with a tug in her chest, only for the feeling of wanderlust to dissipate as soon as she held it. Was that a sign? She was never one for things like ‘fate,’ but a niggling doubt in her mind discouraged the idea of making a profit off her discovery. Even if what she could gain was so very tempting, and even if Hoppit would be happier if she did…
She tore her dampened eyes away and closed them, ignoring the burning trails running across her face. It would be another early morning, and she needed to sleep so she could take care of the garden. Decisions like this could wait. Once she had nothing else distracting her, and she had time to properly think about it, she would see how she felt about the stone.
Eventually, she dozed off with Hoppit pressed against her chest, and a longing in her heart.
Next
—
A/N: Patreon and Ko-fi will be 1 chap ahead this time around, and I've set it so everything from the lowest tier up can read the newest trashfire! Anything above that is sheer show of love. Hope you enjoyed!

https://github.com/idanarye/nvim-impairative
I've been a long time user of Tim Pope's excelent plugin vim-unimpaired, which is basically a long structured list of "complementary pairs of mappings" - turning options on and off, moving backward and forward in various lists, encoding/decoding text in the buffer, etc.
Unimpaired is great, but one thing I don't like about it is that it's not flexible. You get the same mappings Tim Pope uses, and there is no way to "build on" his code - if you want to add things to the list you have to start from scratch. This seems, at least to me, like a missed opportunity.
So - I created my own version of the idea: Impairative. Unlike unimpaired, which gives you the mappings themselves, Impairative gives you helpers capable of creating all these pairs of mappings. Each helper generates both keymaps of the pair and (optionally) adds a desc (some helpers can create it automatically, for others you need to specify a pattern)
For example - unimparied has the [ and ] maps that add lines before and after the current line. In Impairative, they can be created with:

require'impairative'.operations { backward = '[', forward = ']', } :unified_function { key = '', desc = 'add blank line(s) {abovebelow} the current line', fun = function(direction) local line_number = vim.api.nvim_win_get_cursor(0)[1] if direction == 'backward' then line_number = line_number - 1 end local lines = vim.fn['repeat']({''}, vim.v.count1) vim.api.nvim_buf_set_lines(0, line_number, line_number, true, lines) end, } 

(most keymaps, that just delegate to regular commands or to option toggling, are much simpler because the helper does most of the job. I picked that slightly complex one for the example because it shows Impairative's power better)
Of course, since I want it to be an unimpaired replacement, there is also an option to fully replicate (with some slight differences) with:

require'impairative.replicate-unimpaired'() 

Hey there! I'm new to OSM, and wondering if there's a particularly favoured convention for tagging addresses, and any reasons a particular convention might be favored (within residential spaces).
Sometimes I see addresses linked to a building area, other times I see a blank building area with the address listed as a separate "address" point within that area. Sometimes just an address point on its own without an area around a building.
Which of these is considered 'correct', if any? I'm looking at Australian maps, if that helps.

5 was big, 6 was massive, and who knows about 7. Far cry six was basically a small country, but it looked like a continent on the map. If the maps keep getting bigger, far cry 8 will be wild. (I put spoilers because talking about the size of the maps is kinda a spoiler but not really)

Hello! Im looking for someone with experience in creating world building maps for roleplays or just for fun to make a Blank Political Map for a Discord roleplay, along with matching climate, biome, and terrain maps.
WARNING: I cant pay in money, BUT, We can talk a different form of payment such as Nitro, or a gift card.
(Seems sus I know but Payment rules say mods will investigate, meaning I can be banned, and if it helps, I can give you my discord username)
Budget is $35 (I use the sign because of the rules)

An Invitation? What do you mean?
Me and a friend have created our world together for quite some time, with each of us running a state. As you can see in my flair, I run the Kingdom of Okan, and he runs Altiora. We have a set world map and the entire stage is most likely going to be the solar system, because although there is a whole galaxy to explore, time runs at real pace. Yes, I have a case of world builders disease, do I care? no! Every interaction, such as conferences and wars will be played out in real time and documented. Currently it is 1/06/1955 and between me and my friend we have no real exciting events. there are 15 spots to grab currently, and once they fill up there will be more due to colonisation. Just so you know what your getting into, I must add a little more context to the home planet.
Basically all the stuff that's happening
One side of the planet is earthlike with five continents, the two westernmost are the ones scattered with the nations you can choose from. All the elements in this world are the same as ours (with some extra spice on top), except there are entirely different plant and animal species. All countries speak English for simplicity. On the other side of the world there is the void, a flat black area inhabited by dead animals in the form of skeletons. a wall and defences stop humans from entering there at the moment.
Content for the world is produced with these sources: 1. Most lore for your nation is made in a google doc that we often call just "questions". Everyone has one, and others will write questions about the other nation, such as "What is the population?", "Where does your largest import come from and what is it?" and other nonsense we need. A 👍next to the answer means its in the wiki and confirmed. 2. Any part of world building can be made in a 3d software, primarily vehicles.
Content for the world is show in an obsidian vault. I am currently the one with access to it but if you would like, you can write wiki pages of your own and send them to me.
It would be preferred for people under 18 to participate, to match our age group.

Emperor Netherstar Highdrax of the Zenith Empire walked down the iron hallway until he reached a door of glistening wood. He opened it and walked in.
The room was made completely wooden, at the center a grand table with digital maps that detailed the vast reaches of the Realm of Dominions, the vast collection of galaxies that housed countless empires, factions, nations, etcetera, such as the Zenith Empire.
On the other end of the table, the Commanding Strategist was studying a region of the Realm of Dominions, that had a planet of blue oceans and green continents. He looked up and saw the Emperor. "Greetings, Emperor Highdrax. I have received your request, and I am happy to say that me and the M.I.D.A.S. representatives have fully accumulated a strategy for the invasion of our territorial worlds by the Pentagon Legions of the Unlocked Republic."
"Good." began Netherstar--his voice firm and commanding. "The Unlocked Republic has been taunting us for decades: it's about time the Zenith dominion expanded anyways."
"Agreed, my Emperor. We have thirty-percent control over the Realm of Dominions, which is more than what any other conquering civilization has: and the Unlocked Republic has twenty-five-percent control of the realm, so when we seize their dominion's worlds the Zenith Empire's power will have fifty-five-percent control over the Realm of Dominions."
"Very good, Commanding Strategist. Soon the Realm of Dominions will be fully ours, and when we have nearly infinite amounts of energy and resources we will finally be able to enact Operation: Genesis. And once the entire dimension is at our control-"
"Hold on, Emperor, I didn't tell you the strategy yet."
"What is it?"
"Me and the M.I.D.A.S. representatives have agreed that we wouldn't be able to withstand the Unlocked Republic's new form of weapons, so we've come up with this strategy: relocate the Zenith Empire."
Emperor Highdrax looked shocked. "What do you mean, Commanding Strategist? We have a dozen galaxies in our territory, how the hell would we relocate?"
"Simple: M.I.D.A.S. has constructed the first generation of the Absorb Clock: a device that has the advanced capacity to withdraw all of the hundreds of trillions of souls from our empire and put it into the device. You will carry the Absorb Clock, which would hold the entire empire, until M.I.D.A.S. has fully conquered the Realm of Dominions, then you can come back and release your entire empire back into the intergalactic world."
"Come back? Where am I going to with the entire empire?"
"The planet called Earth." he gestured towards the world he was observing earlier.
"So where is this device?"
The Commanding Strategist walked over to the side of the room and pressed a button, and suddenly, on the table in front of the Emperor materialized a pocket-watch-like object. It was made of a silvery material that had hundreds of super-tiny streaks of light. "On Earth you must join a group of people that are not from Earth called "The Mages Guild." You got all that, my Emperor?"
"Yes, Commanding Strategist. How do I use this Absorb Clock?"
"Close it."
Emperor Highdrax did, and suddenly the Commanding Strategist's body suddenly transformed into a network of blue energy and instantly it went into the device, and suddenly magnitudes of other networks of blue energy came pouring into the room and into the clock, and it became so intense that the Emperor became almost blind and suddenly fell unconscious.
He woke up again, and he saw he was laying on a field of green grass and above him were skies of blue. His short new life from the Realm of Dominions has just started.

Spoiler for end of Inheritance/Fork, Witch, Worm.
Unless I've misunderstood, the new world map names the entire eastern continent as Alagaesia, right? Which means Eragon hasn't actually left Alagaesia, just travelled out of the known bit. Which means the prophecy that he will leave Alagaesia never to return hasn't happened yet.

As an FPS enjoyer for the last 10 years I have rarely seen one this bad. The netcode is nonexistent, the weapons are absolutely dogshit or overpowered with no inbetween, garbage jumpshotting (Ik the devs mentioned it but the fact that they didn't think about it being a possible problem before release is wild to me), the maps are so fucking bad, some abilities are worthless (rush shield) where as other abilities are braindead overpowered as shit (echelons sonar), sniper rifles and dmrs can be used at point blank no issues but dontchu worry the wannabe FaZe members in this game will claim "NO IT TAKES SKILL" when it's the easiest shit to do, SMGs have insane reach, Shotguns are inconsistent where you will full spread someone and then you have to flip a coin whether or not the game deems it worthy of a kill, spawns are FUCKED in this game ESPECIALLLLLY on domination, WEAPON PROGRESSION IS SO FUCKED. You can get 20 kills in a single match and still be at level 1. LEVEL 1.
I'm not saying this game is unfixable but the state it was released in is SO BAD. Is it impossible to enjoy? No of course not. But it's not good by ANY stretch. I wouldn't even call it average because average is like COD4 if it was released today.

I currently have a word document form that I need people to fill out for a project I am working on. However the form asks very specific questions that go off on separate tangents depending on how people answer the questions. E.g where are you located? > blank answer fill in > building 7> please attach a map of that location etc I want to learn how to create a better form or process (something like a web form perhaps with drop down menus that would guide people through the process) ideally it would allow users to click through options and attach photos/ maps. Any advice / software or place I could create this would be greatly appreciated!

I had put up an ad on olx to sell my iPhone 13 for 36k. A buyer contacted me and we met. They were not from the main city, they came from outskirts (100km away from my location), and that too by a car. There were 3 of them and when i met them, all three were busy talking on call and from what I could figure out, they were planning to meet other people too. And while all this, I noticed that they have 5-6 phones, and discussing bank account numbers and also receiving large sums of money (40-50k), which I could see from their phone's notification. They were behaving and talking in a very suspicious manner.

1. While negotiating, one guy was saying that he isn't buying to resell, he's buying to use it. (Even though I never asked that and it didn't even matter to me). And the other guy told my brother (who was with me) that they are in the business of this.
   
2. When I had asked them for live location when they were coming, they said they didn't use whatsapp. But they had 5-6 phones which they were continously using, how come they don't use WhatsApp? Or perhaps they are using temporary sims and don't use whatsapp from that. At one point I had to share my Google maps location link with them before meeting, and they texted me on WhatsApp from a number (named Ibrahim), whose name I saw on their ongoing call, when they were talking about bank accounts. So Ibrahim wasn't even one of the 3 guys who met me.
   
3. When paying, they paid in two installments. 20k and 16k. And the bank account's name was a Hindu name. Whereas they were all Muslims. At this point, I realised that something fishy is going on.
   
4. I asked them for a valid document because I was selling my phone to them, and they weirdly denied and said their phone number is enough.
   

So I think the money they paid me was potentially scam money, and they were just trying to convert it into cash, by purchasing phone from me and selling it in the market for cash. I've had similar experience in the past where someone paid me scam money, and my whole bank account was blocked, until I refunded that particular scam money to the police officer.
I took videos of them and their car with number plate. (Click here for the image) And also went to the nearest police station to report it to them so that I'm safeguarded in the future if anything happens. But the officer said that it's my fault that I continued with the transaction even though I found it to be fishy, and denied to report anything. I have this conversation with the police recorded in phone.
What should I do now? Should I withdraw all the money which is in my bank account now, so that if it gets blocked, I don't lose any money? Is whatever I did right? Or am I at fault here?

I downloaded the mods in GeForce NOW for Cities Skylines II. The mods broke my game and I can't play. After logging into Xbox and turning on the game, a blank map with the ocean without UI appears. I can move the camera. Can I somehow uninstall the modifications from the game. Can this be fixed.

The elven war room was, once more, entirely shrouded in silence. Lymlok, his sister and general Eirlys sat at the side of the table, heads down. They avoided her gaze.
"So, this is how the elves of Vatur display their capabilities at defending the Silver Forest?" She spoke.
"Throwing bodies at the invaders, hoping they run out of ammunition before you run out of soldiers? Last I checked, before me stand elves, not orcs."
"Lady Aurelia, we-"
"Tie your tongue Lymlok, while you still have it." The High Elf looked at him. Her voice never raised in tonality, but the weight of her words was crushing.
To regular elves, High Elves were like demigods. Their power was beyond anything even the most gifted elven mages could dream of attaining. True immortality, blessed by the Gods themselves. No title, no crown, no status could measure to a High Elf in the hierarchy of the species. Their words were law, their orders absolute.
"Permission to speak?" Princess Claudia spoke, her voice soft and timid.
"No. I have no use of your mouths, nor anything that might come from them." Aurelia waved her off.
"Eirlys already informed on everything I should know about these apes."
The radiant woman stood up from her seat at the head of the table and walked over to the balcony. Her eyes peered at the horizon, seeing farther than even the best Vatur scouts could.
"So, that is the Rail cannon? The Iron Fortress that shot a hole through the Home Tree?"
"Yes, Lady Aurelia." Claudia responded.
"What an ugly contraption. And I believed the dwarven machinery was unsightly." She scoffed.
"Not surprising that Eothen died trying to stop it though."
For the first time since Aurelia entered the war room, the royal siblings dared to look up. A still fresh rage simmered inside them, at the mention of their brother's death at the hands of the invading humans.
That feeling was fleeting however, Aurelia's golden eyes meeting theirs. Lymlok and Claudia quickly averted their gaze, hanging their heads down again as a cold chill washed over them.
"Glad to see that your determination to avenge him has no diminished, in spite of your string of failures." The High Elf smirked for a moment, before regaining her neutral facial expression.
Aurelia sat back down; a pondering look on her face. Vatur kingdom truly was caught in an inopportune time. Their king deathly ill, his heir dead. The remaining two siblings were handling running the kingdom as well as one could hope. With Lymlock dealing with internal affairs and foreign relations, while Claudia, despite her crippled state, commanded the military.
Of the various elven kingdoms on the continent, Vatur had the least mages. General Eirlys was the best magic user the kingdom had, and that made their chances of victory everything but promising. Arrows and swords really couldn't match up against the invading humans and their weapons, no matters how hard they tried. The only solution would have been a to raise and army and attempt a full-on assault, but after humans made their show of force with the rail cannon, the kingdom was hesitant to send more troops into the meat grinder.
"No." Aurelia thought to herself. The kingdom was not hesitant, it was terrified. Despite their attempts at small skirmishes here and there, mainly to defend the borders of the Silver Forest and the second portal gate, the elven soldiers seemed more than happy at the stalemate. Though they knew that the situation could change on a dime and it was entirely up to the humans to decide on that.
She recalled the machinery she had taken down a few nights prior, saving the lives of general Eirlys and her troops. No doubt, with such weapons at their disposal, the invading force would eventually take over the kingdom.
"What's the situation of the liberated portal gate?" The High Elf mage finally broke the uneasy silence with her question.
"We've sent our best troops to guard the gate, My Lady. Even hired various platinum tier adventurers from neighboring kingdoms as back up. Also, several mages as well from Queen Vitora's court." Lymlok responded.
Aurelia nodded, before turning to the general.
"Any new reports from the dungeon?"
"No, My Lady. Our guard is still holding strong, the human advance seemed to have slower to a halt." Eirlys said.
***
Morning came fast, but the camp disassembly and packing was even faster. Where once stood several tents, fences, and a few parked Humvees was now just a field. A field with 3 soldiers in the middle of it.
"Good morning." came a chirping voice from behind them.
The three men turned around, coming face to face with a short woman. She was dressed like a typical village girl, high boots, dress and a sweater west. Her long, blond hair was tied in a braid, almost reaching her lower back. Blue eyes that exuded overwhelming "morning person" energy.
"I am Layla. Ambassador from the court of Her Majesty, currently in service of Duke Perriman." Spoke the woman.
"Any questions?"
Clyde, Marcel and Jeremy simply shook their heads. The cheerful woman clasped her hands, leading them over to a cart, guarded by two soldiers from the Dutchy.
"As you are surely aware, the Duke made this request in secrecy, so I have here prepared clothes that will help you blend in with the locals." She eyes the men up and down, her eyes lingering on Clyde and Marcel.
"Though we may have some issues regarding sizes."
Clyde wasn't a big fan of the whole ordeal, mainly due to the fact that traveling in secrecy meant he couldn't bring any of his main weapons along, especially his combat suit, as it would draw obvious attention.
All 3 of them still wore moderate body armor, which would keep them safe from arrows and bladed weapons, under their new costumes. Minimal weapons too, mostly handguns and an SMG each. Anything they could hide under cloaks. After all, the plan was to hear the Duke out on his request, not try to overthrow the Dutchy.
"Tell ya what, these clothes are starting to grow on me." The tallest of the three men said, once Layla had managed to find clothes that actually fit him.
Even outside the combat suit, Clyde did not appear any smaller, easily towering over everyone else present, two guards included.
"No one's big like Gaston! Incredibly thick like Gaston." He sang while flexing and checking out how the clothes fit his frame. They were obviously on the looser side, to account for the body armor they wore underneath.
"More like the Beast." Jeremy added.
"The human version."
"How dare you?" Clyde gasped, placing a hand on his chest theatrically, acting offended at the comparison, while Marcel chuckled.
"Well, if you gentlemen are all prepared, I would like us to start moving. If we manage to catch the morning trade caravan heading to the Dutchy, we will be able to get in even more unseen." Layla said, hopping on into the cart.
The soldiers nodded and joined her inside, while the guards drove the cart. A large, black and white cat appeared from under the remaining clothes that were piled in the corner, and snuggled up to the woman.
To the surprise of the three men, the feline appeared to be wearing overalls.
Jeremy opened his mouth to ask about the cat, but thinking back, this was far from the weirdest thing they've seen in this world, so he decided against it.
"So, how come you understand us? And vice versa?" Marcel asked Layla, who was petting the pat that curled up on her lap.
"Oh, that's easy. Ambassadors are usually low tier mages, who possess spells that allow understanding and talking to various species, often in their native language." The blonde woman responded, pointing to a necklace she wore.
"The makes understanding you even easier."
"But others, like the guards, have no clue what we are saying?" Jeremy interjected.
"Correct." She replied, before continuing.
"If you are worried that speaking your language to one another or me, will blow your cover, worry not. The town is a mixture of various people, from different regions. Some speak different dialects, others different languages entirely. You will blend right in."
***
Everybody kept their heads down as the cart merged with the incoming caravan and made it through the gates of the small town. It was a busy place, no doubt, with townsfolk all over the streets. Various shops and stores lined both sides of the main street, leading to the town center. Layla was no lying when she said the town has great diversity of people. Everything from humans and elves, to dwarves and kobold could be seen amongst the crowd, rushing to the center of the town where the marketplace was, to set up their booths as the trade caravan approached.
The town had a circular layout, as a portal gate stood in the center of it, the buildings seemingly built around it. By the looks of it, the gate was not used in quite some time, but the invading soldiers now understood the position Duke Perriman was in, and his offer most likely would be.
Below the soil, Marcel's pets followed the cart, ready to jump out at the first sign of trouble.
Once they arrived at the market, the group continued on foot, blending into the crowd, as Layla, cat riding on her shoulders, lead them to the Duke's manor. A lavish estate, situated atop a hill, looking over the entirety of the Dutchy.
For how chatty the men were before the start of the journey, all 3 of them were no silent. Not a word was uttered by either of them since the group entered the town. The ambassador felt a bit uneasy due to this, she was used to adventurers, and even mercenaries, being quite chatty, especially before a mission. The soldiers behind her seemed to be observing the town, studying the layout of it and mapping it out.
Once they passed through the estate gates, Layla told the group they can relax and remove their hoods, as the hardest part of the journey was behind them. The soldiers did as told, with no change in attitude. Finally, the giant of a man, broke the awkwardness.
"Y'know, I hope they feed us. I never had fantasy food before." Clyde grinned.
"Oh, yeah. We did not have breakfast yet. I will let the Duke know. Don't worry, he knows how to treat important guests." She replied, as the cat hopped off her shoulder and ran off somewhere.
The term "fantasy", that Clyde used, confused Layla a bit, but she decided not to think much of it. These humans were from a different world entirely, so perhaps this truly was fantasy to them.
Inside the manor, the group was welcomed by butlers and maids, making sure that they soldiers are refreshed and seated before the Duke arrived.
Perriman was an older gentleman, pushing 50 by the looks of it, grey hair and beard. He had a youthful glow about him however, and his eyes were that of a cunning man. It was evident that he was not the type of noble to just sit and indulge in doing nothing every day.
"Greetings, dear friends. Welcome to my humble home. I hope the trip here was not too much of a hassle." He gave the soldiers a half bow, once he arrived at the bottom of the stairs.
"Thank you for having us." Replied Jeremy, giving an awkward bow back.
Perriman stopped for a moment, looking at the men and then at the door.
"I thought there was supposed to be more of you?"
"Yeah. But we decided to reduce the numbers to the bare minimum, for easier travel and keeping a low profile." Jeremy answered.
The Duke took a step back, looking over the huge Warhound soldier that was Clyde, finding it a bit ironic that they mention keeping a low profile with him being as big as he was.
Clyde and Marcel could smell the fear that gripped the noble, his posh mannerisms could not hide his true feelings. The man was scared stiff, both of them and of unwanted guests, evident by the number of guards placed around doors and windows.
***
The dining hall was set, food and drinks were brought out, the Duke clearly spared no expense on the presentation of hospitality, for the sake of making a good first impression of the invaders. Once done with the preparations, the room was vacated by all the staff, safe for the Duke himself and his best guard, Layla and her cat, and the 3 soldiers.
For an unknown reason, Clyde and Marcel had request the cat be kicked out of the room as well, and not be allowed entry until the dinner was concluded. Layla protested a bit, but eventually caved in, leaving the cat outside in the hallway.
As dinner began, the two Warhounds engrossed themselves in the delicious food in front of them, leaving Jeremy to hold the majority of the conversation with the Duke.
"As you see, I believe we could help one another. You are locked in conflict with the Vatur elves, and I would very much like be rid of their grip on my town as well." Spoke Perriman.
"I see. And in return?" Asked Jeremy, taking a sip of wine from his cup.
"I will allow you to use the portal gate at the center of town to deploy your troops. Isn't that what you are fighting with the elves over?"
"My Lord, I doubt the Queen would allow such an offer." Layla interrupted the noble, a worried look on her face.
It was clear that despite being the one tasked with getting the soldiers to the Dutchy, she was kept in the dark about the deal Perriman had planned to strike with them.
"Silence Layla. Eat your food and let men discuss such issues." He gave her a dirty look before turning his gaze back to Jeremy.
"Queen, eh?" Marcel spoke, still chewing on his food.
"She has no clue you've invited us here."
"She doesn't need to bother herself with everything that goes on in a small town such as this." Perriman responded a bit nervously.
"Last I checked, Vatur kingdom and the Kingdom of her Majesty were on good terms with one another. You are a vassal to the Queen, right? I don't know how the elves would feel when their enemies suddenly start coming out from friendly territory." Jeremy continued.
"Yes, It might start a declaration of war." Marcel added.
"At the very least, it will cause the Queen to send troops or even appear herself, to see what the fuck is going on here, if he gives us the portal gate." Added the other soldier, agreeing with his friend.
"Perhaps. But I am sure we can cross that bridge when we get to it, right?" Asked the Duke, getting more panicked by the minute.
"I like an ambitious man, Perriman." Clyde said, taking a break from destroying the food in front of him to catch his breath.
"It's all over your face. You've probably seen what type of stuff the elves are dealing with and how hard they're being hammered by forces much smaller than their kingdom. You invited us here, hoping that by offering the portal gate to us, you would rid yourself of the ironclad grip that the elves have on your balls."
The tall man laughed, downing a cup of wine and pouring himself another.
"And!" He raised his finger, stopping anyone else before they could say a word.
"You hope that if you ally with us, if... well "If"... WHEN the Queen finally comes here to see what the fuck is going on, we help you get the crown off of her head and on to yours. Am I in the ball park with that assumption?"
Duke Perriman was speechless. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, sweating bullets at this point.
"No point in denying it. Yes, those were my hopes, for this conversation."
"HAH! I read you like a book Perriman." Laughed Clyde, the other two soldier also grinning.
Layla sat there, stunned to her core. She thought about just running out, fleeing the manor and rushing to inform the queen. Her eyes darted from door to door, before a metal clang snapped her back to reality.
She looked at the source of the sound. The tallest of the three soldiers had pulled out his revolver and placed it on the table, the barrel pointed at her. Ambassador locked eyes with Clyde, feeling the fear twist her insides.
"You move. I blow a golf ball sized hole in you." The man said, his look not hiding his murderous intent.
"Okay..." She gulped and nodded.
Their cheerful demeanor had her mistaken about their intentions. They were soldiers, but they were also mercenaries. They do not need permission from superiors to agree or disagree on deals, especially in a world that's not their own. Here, they were exempt from laws that they would have to otherwise abide.
"Let's talk about the reality of your plan Duke." Said Jeremy.
"You've seen Outpost one? The one with the big cannon?"
The Duke nodded.
"Alright. Well, the good news is, the town square has just enough room for us to actually bring in what the elves had prevented us from bringing in at Outpost two." He produced his tabled, typing something in it before the device produced a three-dimensional image of a four-legged machine.
"We can fit two, maybe three Spiders, if we squeeze them in the town square. So that's your luck, as it's just what we need. But!" He paused.
The Duke watched with bated breath as the man typed something else on the device, before showing a lay out of Outpost 2, before the High Elf destroyed it.
"The entire setting needs to look a bit like this. Meaning, we need to get engineers here and get generators placed, get them up and running, triangulate the position and establish coordinates of the gate here in relation to the one on the other side."
"Which, all in all, should take us about two weeks, a week at best of we work really, really fast. But think of it as two weeks, just to be on the safe side." Said Clyde.
"That will also raise alarms. You've got eyes Duke, all over your town. Watching you, your people and everything else going on. Elven eyes." Marcel added, pointing behind himself to the window, who's view pointed directly at the town.
"So, the elves will definitely not like something like that. The Dutchy is right on the border with Vatur, if we activate the gate, it will practically be delivering enemy troops to their doorstep. Big retaliation." Jeremy put his tablet away.
"On top of that, her Majesty the Queen, will probably send people come and run a spike through your ass, because the kingdom of Marbella is allies, or at least friends with the Vatur elves." Added Clyde.
"The million-dollar question, baby, is can YOU, keep both sides off our backs until we set the portal gate up? If you can, well whoop tee do! You just might get what you are looking for. But if you can't and shit hits the fan, believe me, we will be the first to high tail it out of this town." The three men laughed.
Perriman rubbed his forehead. The cards were all laid out for him, the risks and rewards. He knew what type of power these humans held, what their weapons did to the Home Tree. With something like that, he could be crowned King of Marbella come spring, even sooner. No longer a petty vasal, bowing his head both to the Queen and the Elves. But if he failed, he'd face the gallows or worse. No! Failing was not an option. He would make sure whatever these invaders needed to succeed is given to them.
"Alright. I see this will not be an easy task. But the benefits to reap from this do not befit an easy task anyways. So, whatever you need, I shall provide." Perriman took a deep breath, steeling himself as he made the decision.
Layla sat in her chair, mortified at the events unfolding right in front of her. She knew Perriman was a man of ambitions, but she never expected him to be treasonous scum too.
"Just make sure to keep as many watchful eyes away from the town square and the rest portal gate. No double, elf informants and the kingdoms informants will eventually catch with of it. But you must do whatever it takes to keep us a few steps ahead of them." Jeremy told the Duke.
The Duke turned to Layla, as the door to the hall opened and guards walked in.
"Throw her in the basement, and make sure she stays there. We cannot risk her informing anyone of this."
"NO! How dare- GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME." Layla protested, as the guards dragged her out of the room.
Duke Perriman nodded at the men sitting across him, as they all looked at each other. As one, they all took a big swig from their wine cups.
"Make the call." Clyde said to Jeremy.
***
"My Lady. We have trouble." A scout said, bursting through the door of the war hall, trying to catch his breath.
Aurelia did not say a word, her face holding a "this better be important" expression.
"What in the name of Gods is so important that you interrupt us?" Princess Claudia hissed.
"The Perriman Dutchy. It closed off the entire town square. No one is allowed to enter or even get close. Duke Perriman seems to have hired a ton of mercenaries and adventurers to keep every vantage point guarded. Our spies cannot even get close enough to see what's going on. He's invited some strange figures earlier to his manor, for business dealings or something." The scout said.
"What are you cooking Perriman?" Lymlok mumbled to himself.
"Also, the dungeon defense squad reports that as of two nights ago, the humans had abandoned the dungeon in its entirety. They just packed up and left. No trace of them. Even their camp above ground is gone." He continued.
Eirlys exchanged a panicked look with the royal siblings. "The gate at the Dutchy. No way. He wouldn't dare..."
"Send all available scouts to the border, keep an eye on the Iron Tower outpost, keep an eye on the town, keep an eye any movement from the outpost to the Dutchy. And tell every scout and spy in the Dutchy to not stop trying to find out what's going on in there, by any means necessary." Lymlok ordered the scout, as the elf ran back out of the room.
"Seems our allies are not so loyal as we thought." Aurelia spoke, before walking over to the balcony. "What are you plotting, scum?"
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I formatted the wrong drive when I was trying to reinstall Windows (currently on that install on the correct drive).
I have not written any files to the drive I accidentally formatted and have reassigned a letter to it in "Create and Format Hard Disk Partitions".
It is showing as completely blank, unsurprisingly, but I ran Disk Drill, and that found all of the files.
I am assuming the files pictured in the screenshot are the ones responsible for letting the OS know the drive is there and where the files are, by which I mean the files with "boot" in the name.
Screenshot: https://ibb.co/6BZndNS (ImgBB is purely an image host)
I have another SSD I can copy everything to if I absolutely have to, but what I am hoping is that there is a way to simply restore the already existing file system and map it back to being readable.
There is no OS on that particular disk, but possibly the remnants of a previous old install or a Linux dual boot from a while back would explain the "boot" files, which were the hardest for Disk Drill to recover.
It's also possible those files are on any drive that is linked into and readable by the OS (Win10 btw).
It's an Asrock H77 Pro, which is probably entirely irrelevant, as the issue is essentially I have a drive that nothing has happened to other than I accidentally quick formatted it, and Win10 can't see the files.
There surely must be a way to simply restore or rebuild the file system to make it readable again, as nothing has been done to it since, other than running Disk Drill which does not change the contents.
If I have to transfer everything, and that's my only option, then that's what I'll do, but if there is any way to do what I am asking about, please let me know.
Thanks for any advice on this.