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Courting Hermione Granger
By Kiera Marcos
Summary: Hermione Granger’s return to Britain after years abroad causes a stir in the British Ministry of Magic but it’ll be Harry Potter’s courting overture that will change her life.
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The Bodyguard BY emmy_award
Summary:
In which Hermione is Minister for Magic, Harry is Head Auror, and nothing goes according to plan.
[c/w for battle scenes, both real and implied violence, graphic injuries, and serious danger]
[featuring illustrations by u/Ada_Lovelaced
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Time Skips, Pain Remains
KalKent
Summary:
A serial killer on the loose driven by pain. A detective on the loose driven by grief. As Auror Harry Potter battles his inner demons and fights to hold on to whatever has left of his once happy existence, a killing spree has forced him back into action and given him purpose. A purpose that will ultimately consume him if he doesn't accept a truth that, time skips, pain remains.
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oMAYgaverse: harmony
harmonious (accidentally_hi)
Summary:
He was a leader she always trusted and counted on. He had never let her down in their years of friendship. As the new the Head Auror, Harry Potter was entrusted with a new objective for his new role.
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Falling Twice
Myst867
Summary:
Hermione wakes up in St Mungo's to find that she's forgotten almost eight years of her life. The last thing she remembers is taking her N.E.W.Ts about to move in with Ron, but she's told that twenty seven year old Hermione is an Auror... and married to her best friend, Harry Potter.
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The Assistant
By: thesiriuswriter
Harry Potter works in the Ministry and is in need of a new assistant. His girlfriend has managed to get rid of all his previous assistants but when Hermione comes to work, Miss Weasley gets a rude shock.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Unlike a Sister By madharmony
Summary:
Nineteen years ago, Harry told Ron he saw Hermione as his sister. Now Hermione is in danger and Harry's feelings for her begin to change dramatically, jeopardizing everything he once knew. A post-war, Epilogue compliant fic.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Iris
suzy_everdeen31
Summary:
When Hermione left after the battle she never could have predicted it would be for good. Five years later she is pulled back into the magical world in a way that puts her and the people she loves most at great risk.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Unraveled
alexandra_emerson
Summary:
Draco struggles to move on after the war.
He wondered, sometimes, if his mother knew. If she’d guessed about Hermione. She wouldn’t know it was her, specifically, but he thought sometimes she knew there was…someone in his life.
Someone who added a flicker of gold to the grey monotony of his thoughts, a lovely melody to the dull beats of his days. He didn’t know when it had happened, but sometime in the past three years, Hermione Granger had become important to him
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One Day at a Time
alexandra_emerson
Summary:
What do you do when your memory resets itself each night? Who can you trust? Can you still live a meaningful life? Can you find love? These are the questions plaguing Hermione since her accident and there’s one person with the answers – if only she can remember.
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Always There
alexandra_emerson
Summary:
After breaking up with their respective Weasleys and “losing their breakups,” Harry and Hermione find themselves hanging out alone together - a lot. What starts out as friendship soon grows into more as they realize they aren’t the same people they were at Hogwarts
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Years From Now
angweasley
Summary:
Hermione is the most important person in Harry's life and he is ready to take the next step with her, but he was not anticipating all of the tiny steps along the way.
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What I Always Wanted by Searcy
Eight years after defeating Voldemort Harry Potter has everything he’s ever wanted…a successful career as an Auror…financial security…a comfortable home…good friends and a Dursley free existence. Yes Harry Potter has everything he’s ever wanted. Except a family of his very own. But with the help of a certain brown-eyed witch he just may get that too.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Game Theory
By: SallyJAvery
SOUND THE ALARM! CHRISTMAS FIC 2018! It's nearly Christmas, but crime doesn't sleep. Instead, it leaves a swathe of destruction and dead bodies in its wake across Wizarding and Muggle London. Festive! The Aurors are stumped, the Met are mystified, and consulting detective Harry Potter is on the case
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Remedy
UntoldHarmony
Summary:
After a raid gone awry, Auror Harry Potter was sent to St. Mungo's bloodied and bruised and seriously injured. Enter Healer Hermione Granger. (post-Hogwarts, AU)
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Running and Hiding
RiverWriter
Summary:
Hermione couldn't bear to stay in Britain after the war. But she left a wake of questions behind her as well as a best friend who missed her very much. What happens when he eventually decides to track her down in an entirely new environment? Can they renew their friendship? Could it be something more?
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Thirty Years Later
brokenbottleaurora
Summary:
Thirty years on, Harry Potter is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and has enough paperwork to last him for weeks. His wife, however, isn't willing to wait that long. 100% pure Harmony fluff. H/Hr and implied L.
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Hallowed Death Be Denied To Me
Aeyliana
Summary:
Auror Captain Harry Potter has a secret. Since he united the three Deathly Hallows, he cannot die. Seven years since he came back to life the first time, he finds himself to not be the only immortal at large in Great Britain. A rogue cult of vampires threatens both muggle and magic lives, forcing the Ministry to drag Harry back into the frontlines. With no choice but to do his duty, Harry not only has to deal with vampires, but with keeping his own immortality a secret. He at least is not alone with Hermione Granger on his side, the only person who knows his secret. She alone knows that he is the Master of Death and she'll do anything to keep him safe from the danger that knowledge could bring him. No matter the cost.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
you drew stars around my scars
dragonmarked
Summary:
“It’s not that bad. I don’t look completely hideous,” Hermione murmured, turning her head sideways and looking at the scars on her arms.
“You could never look hideous, Hermione,” Harry stated confidently, trying to get the nervous stutter of his heart under control
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Soul Thief
bartonfink1974
Summary:
5 Years after defeating Voldemort, a simple error of judgment leads to catastrophe for Harry Potter. Hermione has to battle to reclaim her dearest friend and Harry must uncover the conspiracy that threatens them all in order to save a once bitter enemy
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Semper Fidelis
UntoldHarmony
Summary:
She left years ago after he saved the wizarding world from the hands of Voldemort. She never thought she would be back again... until her son got his letter to Hogwarts.
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A Darkness So Tender
maraudersaffair
Summary:
Hermione knows something is wrong with Harry. She also knows she's in love with him.
When she discovers his vampirism, she is willing to risk her own life to help him. He finds the smell of her blood irresistible, but Hermione is willing to take the chance if it means she can finally have him.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Louder Than Her Demons
WildflowerWeasley
Summary:
Hermione is struggling with life after the war. After returning from an extended trip away, she admits to Harry that everything is not alright and that she needs help. Harry is desperate for the girl he loves to be herself again and will do whatever it takes to get her back.
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even death has a heart
dragonmarked
Summary:
Hermione is dying. Desperate, Harry makes a deal with an unknown man that promises him the power to save her, if only he surrenders his own soul and relinquishes himself to a lifetime of servitude.
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In the middle of the night
Svalewayland
Summary:
Hermione Greengrass is known for her intellect as well as her unparalleled ability to make a grown wizard tremble on the spot with just a raise of an eyebrow. The formidable witch is nothing if not self-assured. But when she and Potter are sent on an auror mission undercover as a married couple to a small Irish town, she is forced to re-evaluate everything she knows about him... and herself.
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Engaged
RileyOR
Summary:
Harry Potter realizes he has feelings for Hermione Granger. Simple enough, right? Something to cope with, but maybe there's a way to make this work? Except Harry didn't arrive at this conclusion until seconds after she's announced her engagement to Ron Weasley. Forced to cope with this revelation at the worst possible time, what's Harry to do?
Started as a rambling comment on reddit, but due to somewhat popular demand, I've decided to flesh it out into a fic. Contains angst, but no bashing. Everyone in the story is a person with feelings, not a caricature.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
sweetheart By thelashjedi
Summary:
sweetheart (ironic)
sweetheart? (confused)
sweetheart (derogatory)
sweetheart! (terrified)
sweetheart (desperate moan)
A Harmony fic charting their evolution from close friends to complete estrangement and eventually, lovers...༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Desperation
Maurauve
Summary:
Harry's a good friend. But when he tells his best friend that he'd do anything for her, he doesn't expect to be offering to father a child with her to save her from the impending Marriage Law.
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Hermione Granger and the Theft of Magic
By: Scribbling Steve
(AU) Hermione Granger's dissertation advisor and even her parents think she's crazy to suggest Britain may once have had magic, but a concerned DMLE sees her research as a risk to the Statute of Secrecy and sends a messy-haired, green-eyed Auror to investigate. Her tenacity combined with his fast thinking uncovers a conspiracy
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Teacher's Pet by Amynoelle and Heaven
After what both Harry Potter and Hermione Granger assume is only a one night stand, they are shocked to see each other at Auror Training- him as the instructor and her as the student. They decide to put what happened behind them and move forward, but will they be able to do that? Lavender Brown also struggles to show that she's not just a pretty face- but when Charlie Weasley shows up, will that put a stop to her plans? Ron Weasley deals with his long distance relationship with Luna Lovegood and pursuing a career path he's not sure will make him happy. Can everyone find a way to be happy, both in their personal and professional lives?
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My Cheating Heart
tweetysrcclt9
Summary:
BOOK 1 COMPLETE.
Summary:
Crime and Mystery. Master of Death Story.
Hermione stole Harry from Ginny, trapping him in a loveless marriage for a year. When the fruit of her deceit died, she set him free. Ten years later, an epidemic that affects young British witches and wizards calls her back home. She returns and discovers that legally, she is still the Lady Potter. But the question is why?
Slow-burn romance.
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Crocosmia
Lysander12
Summary:
The war was awful. Peace should have been better. But transitioning to adulthood from an interrupted adolescence is no easy task, especially when trapped beneath the pressure of constant media scrutiny. Everyone needs an escape.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Matched
Myst867
Summary:
Hermione Granger is set to begin her new life moving from France to England after accepting a new position as an unspeakable in the department of Mysteries. She’s determined that this will be a new start for her and intends not to lock herself away with work. With this in mind, she accepts a challenge from Crookshanks (or shall we say mean meow) and attempts to go on a date with a muggle. Things do not go as planned.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
The Dragon of Time
Canadian_Caesar
Summary:
A ritual went wrong. An international crisis began. Old deceptions are brought to light. In the end, Harry decides there is only one way to set things right: time must change.
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A Change of Heart
disenchantedwing
Summary:
Ever elusive, a restlessness starts to stir in Harry, and while his life already isn't really where he wants it to be, it's about to get far worse. Ron and Hermione might get back together again, and this time, for some strange reason, Harry finds himself feeling desperate to prevent it at all costs.
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Less Than Tomorrow by leedee
(After book 7, but disregarding the epilogue) After ending her relationship with Ronald Weasley for the final time, Hermione returns home to be reunited with her friends and family - and to start a new career as an Auror. Getting used to working with Draco Malfoy and trying to fight off her feelings for the engaged Harry Potter seem to be causing nothing but problems with Hermione's first mission: seducing and arresting the very wealthy Connor Cowell. But it turns out that more than one person's feelings are at stake and Hermione must watch her step or else wind up falling into a triangle of love and lust.
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Hogwarts Undercover by Amynoelle and Heaven
AU. Someone sinister is stalking the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. As the attacks mount, the Ministry sends in its best auror to work with someone on the inside. Harry works undercover along with Hermione to figure out who is putting the students under a spell that leaves them with no soul. Along with figuring out the case, a major attraction grows between the two of them, but will Harry's true life allow them to be happy together?
Cayman Undercover by Amynoelle and Heaven
Sequel to Hogwarts Undercover. Three years after going undercover at Hogwarts together, Harry and Hermione are paired up again for another assignment, this time at a luxury resort on the island of Grand Cayman. Can they find a way to work together without letting those old feelings get in the way? Back in England, Ginny Weasley is doing her best to win back Neville's affections, but Cho Chang also has her sights set on him. Which girl will win his heart?༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
touching you, i catch midnight
glitterwitch1 (jolie_unfiltrd)
Summary:

Hermione didn't know when it had started, exactly. She suspected the roots were somewhere in her childhood longing for acceptance and the innate feeling of approval that came with doing things correctly, with learning all she could and getting things right, for once. But somewhere along the way, after puberty and hormones and the extrinsic upheaval of their last few years at Hogwarts (including the year on the run which she mostly preferred not to think about at all), it had turned into this:A fucking praise kink.

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This Side of Paradise
Doodsxd
Summary:

She didn’t need to think twice. To hell with Williamson. “You’re hired. You can skip my office and go directly to HR to take your file from the archives. I’ll sign it tomorrow at the latest.”Her decisiveness unveiled reality in front of his eyes. Hermione was not ashamed to enjoy the delight that his shock brought her. “No one told me you’re the Minis-”“Everyone probably assumed you knew, since we are both still married to Weasleys.” There was no reason to bring up her divorce, even though she presumed his was not finalized yet, since divorces were public record his hadn’t made the news yet.“Right.” HIs hand went through his hair, uncomfortable. She resisted the urge to smile at the very Potter-typical gesture. “So I’m hired. Just like that.” His voice had an incredulous tone to it.Her smile was bright. He had no bloody idea what he was in for.“Just like that.”

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Enigma
UnicornSward
Summary:

Eight years after defeating Voldemort and following his best friend Ron into pursuing an Auror career, Harry found himself receiving an order from Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, that is impossible to refuse. Now he is stuck with the only person he has been struggling to read since Hogwarts - Hermione Granger. Forced to follow her around while Hermione is preparing to present the most important proposal that has been secretly in the works, Harry slowly discovers ways to decode her, realizing that they may have more in common than anyone would have thought.

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Maybe Tomorrow
suzy_everdeen31
Summary:
The war has ended and Harry is feeling lost and disillusioned. At the encouragement of Hermione he begins to renovate Potter Manor. Over the Christmas Holidays, the two of them stay in the rundown estate and wake up on the morning of Christmas Eve in bed together, in the master suite, looking different than the night before.
“Harry?” Her eyes blinked sleepily, hand closing the short distance between them as her palm came to cup his cheek. “You have a beard?”
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Roger und Shiki fighted in Edd War and Edd War sounds kind of like “Edward” without the last D? Who is an D who leeft Edward Nougat crew Blackbeard it’s Blackbeard. Also I think the he can eat the 3 fruits is because he haves 3 Hearst like a oxtopus an also krakens are sea mosters so he can control the weater. Remeber that D will cause a storm I think that’ Blackbeard because heisa kraken. The D in D strands for decapod because squids are decapods and have 10 8 arms and 2 tentacles. Al’s o know that squids and octopus have different eggs the egg on Roger’s boat is a kraken haves a beiger egg that looks not the same and the kraken in fishma island lived at the Nort Paul which is a snow county and people from snow don’t steep and backbear doesnt seep eiter. Also the raisin he attack Shiki is because he wants to hunt for foots but he realized whitebear had a better foot so he joined his craw after eating the Hito Hito no Mi to become an human. Choopper fruit is the only zoo furt to not have a model I think that’s foreskin that it is Hito Hito model Neanderthal because choppa Is Harry like a ooga booga caveman but Blackbeard ate a normal human fruit he’s just fat. Tare can be mulplical diffrnt Hito fruits like Sengoku with his Buddha flute also that’s why Marco said Backbear had a wired body becows he was actually a kraken. That also why he takes extra damage from stuff like Ice’s fire foot and Low’s sward becuse wehn he gets hurt he fails more pene because a coctopus has anervous system really big and complicated on his arm and a kraken is just a optocus bit Reyleigh bickz. Lime now what you thinks in commets but prase be tespectfl becauz I spiny real big time making this thory.

If, for some god forsaken reason, you wish to read the other two installments of this series, here you are.
Part One
Part Two
Proceed at your own risk, from here on, because - you know - massive spoilers for FoL.

Chapter Three - Fall of Light's Last Scene - What the F-

Important note: In this essay, I do not seek to deeply analyse the motives of Renarr. I dare not delude myself into thinking – or believing – that I can understand, in any capacity, Renarr’s motivations. While I may make claims about her historicity as a character, and I may make certain ventures into trying to understand what she thinks… your guess is as good as, and probably better, than mine.
As such, this essay considers Vatha Urusander much more closely than it does Renarr (at least, to the extent possible). It also – as per the title – deals with the historicity of the events described, and why the way they’re related to us matter. Thus.

“Renarr found herself the sole occupant of Urusander’s intended quarters, with not even a servant present. She wandered through the rooms, stirring the ashes of her regret. A single ember remains, and surely it shall burn me, and my name, for ever more. But some things we do not choose. Some things are chosen for us.”

That’s some very apt imagery. Plenty of that coming up in the rest of the scene, too. It does bear mentioning that Renarr’s murder(?) of Urusander has been foreshadowed since at least Chapter Nineteen, if not earlier – one can make the case that the very first scene of Fall of Light is foreshadowing that very fact. And throughout, Renarr has been dreading it. And before she acts, she makes sure Urusander knows that she dreads this. Keep this in mind.

“She heard the outer door open and then shut. Returning to the main room she saw Vatha Urusander. He seemed startled to see her, but only momentarily. He smiled. ‘I am glad to find you here, Renarr.’
‘Is she done with your company already?’
‘It has been a long time since we last slept. There are storms in our heads, and storms between us. Of the latter, I see a calm ahead. Of the former …’ He shrugged, and walked towards the window overlooking the broad sward behind the Citadel.”

Think on what Vatha sees in this moment. A moment free of responsibility, free of charade, a moment where he can spend some genuine alone time with his adopted daughter. A daughter he knows indulges him, challenges him, perhaps on some level, wholly rejects him. But what Renarr does not do, is disrespect Vatha. Renarr is, with the exception of maybe Mother Dark, the only individual character to respect Vatha Urusander’s agency.
Does he foresee what Renarr is here to do? Perhaps. He knows about Renarr’s misgivings. He knows about the fate of her mother, he knows that she but indulges him – as Mother Dark put it – and he knows that Osserc… well, Osserc murdered Millick, for potentially undisclosed reasons.
He is also well aware of how false everything thus far has been. He knows – he says as much to Renarr & his company – that the marriage won’t stem the tide of blood. It is purely political in nature, and it only serves as an uneasy delay. It accomplishes nothing. Vatha stands here, before Renarr, with nothing to show for it. There’s a storm in his head, with no end in sight.
And yet, he’s happy to see her. Because he’s fairly sure she comprehends, more than he does, the extent of this situation.

“‘Will you deal with Hunn Raal?’ she asked, drawing closer to him.
His back was broad, but it now belonged to an ageing man. There was sadness in this detail.
‘Deal with him? I had ambitions there, didn’t I? He names himself my Mortal Sword. This should make plain who serves whom.’
‘And does it?’ She hesitated a few steps behind him, watching as he leaned forward close to the windowpane and looked down.”

Renarr cuts directly to the chase. No beating around the bush here, no elegant ceremony to mask the unkind, unhappy truths beneath. Hunn Raal has been allowed to go forth, unmolested, uncontested, for too long… until, just about, the very scene before this.
By Vatha’s very assertion, Hunn Raal’s actions have been disowned, and, indeed, decried by Father Light. It’s Renarr herself that elaborates on this on Hunn Raal, no doubt savouring the taste of vengeance. Granted, Vatha did say he’d hand Hunn Raal to the Andii to be tried as a common criminal – he didn’t – but his political maneuvering, or more accurately, his political stumbling, has at last bore fruit: Osserc is Vatha’s heir, and all of Raal’s machinations are rendered moot, insofar as he’s exposed and can no longer work behind Vatha’s back.
The fact that Osserc is still around but Hunn Raal isn’t probably points to Raal dying at some point in the (near) future, if nothing else, because he’s a massive dipshit.
Now, yes, Vatha merely naming Osserc his heir isn’t magically going to make the problem that is Hunn Raal go away. But the point I’m getting at is that Urusander has dealt with Hunn Raal, in exercising both his identity of Father Light & Commander of the Legion. Does that directly affect Hunn Raal? Could Urusander have done more? These are all questions running through Renarr’s mind, but she knows that what she’s asking is already done. So it’s clearly not that.
In the meantime, Urusander – his back to Renarr – is now staring out the window, with a broad back “belonging to an aging man.” The Vatha Urusander in this room is nothing like the fabled Father Light.

“‘A keep’s refuse,’ he muttered. ‘How it backs the wall, below the chutes. I wonder, do we build houses simply to keep the garbage out? It should be buried.’
*‘It buries itself,’ Renarr replied. ‘Eventually.’” *

I absolutely adore this part. Not least because Urusander compares Hunn Raal to “a keep’s refuse,” but also because of the poetic language employed. You can substitute “garbage” and “houses” with just about anything and get a meaningful part out of it. Here, let me try.
“Do we create rules & prohibitions simply to keep the outlaws at bay?”
“Do we build societies & civilizations just to keep the misfits out?”
And so on.
While Urusander never struck me as a man to believe in the “natural order of things,” he understands that Hunn Raal cannot thrive in such a society, and longs for the time when he, too, will be buried. There will come a day when he’ll bury himself. That, or the rest of the garbage in the pile will deal with him.

“‘Hunn Raal deems himself immune. Perhaps he is right in that. Leave him to Syntara. He’s her problem, not mine. Mother Dark has the right of it. We step back, saying little. The condition of our people is for them to decide. I considered setting forth my laws, my foundations upon which a just society could rise. But how soon before my words are twisted? My premises twisted and suborned? How soon before we, in our mortal natures, corrupt such laws, each time in answer to a wholly self-serving need?’”

And so he elaborates. It is not up to him to fix this mess, just like it does not fall to Mother Dark to rein in the more unwieldy individuals among the Andii. Urusander has seen both Emral and especially Syntara twist the words of their deities; he struggled putting forth his laws on the basis of “moral stance” – because law itself might be subject to ambiguity; how could he even consider putting forth such laws when his followers are bound to twist the words he speaks for their own benefit?
Urusander’s nightmare since his first appearance on page in Forge of Darkness is realized here, and he is powerless to stop it. He follows Mother Dark’s example, but I doubt that is fulfilling in any capacity. Urusander was a soldier, and it is that attribute of his that Renarr calls upon in asking him to deal with Hunn Raal… but when not even Father Light is capable of dealing with his Mortal Sword, what hope has Vatha Urusander?
He has argued himself into a corner and his only way out is, well, standing right behind him.

“‘Have we seen the last of honourable men and women, Vatha Urusander?’
He straightened once more, but did not turn to face her. ‘The brutes are in ascension, Renarr. Against that, reason has no chance. You think the blood has ended? I fear it is only beginning.’
‘Then, sir, nothing has been solved.’
‘I am not the man to solve this,’ Urusander said. ‘But,’ he added after a moment, ‘you knew as much, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’”

This part interests me as well, because the two of them are talking about wholly different things.
Renarr is appealing to Urusander’s sense of military honour. Hunn has overstepped the line, lapped the line twice, moved the goalpost, crossed it again, and is just now cracking open champagnes to celebrate. In other words, Hunn Raal is a mess, and it falls to Urusander – as a soldier, as his commander – to deal with him.
Urusander, on the other hand, views the situation through his own lens of principles & morality. For starters, Hunn Raal has grown past his own influence, so bringing him down in any manner of collective justice is nigh impossible. As such, Raal will need to be brought down either in an underhanded manner (assassination or some such), which in and of itself is difficult, or by someone else entirely – which, alas, did not happen (Renarr laments this as well). The former is not just difficult, but in direct violation of Urusander’s morals and paradigm. If he sets the precedent that “if someone oversteps the line, then kill him on any basis you find”, any society he attempts to build is going to crumble from the very beginning.
Neither of them are objectively wrong. They employ different views on morality – deontology versus consequentialism – and judging one through the lens of another is going to bring up numerous contradictions, especially if you don’t believe in objective morality. Subjectively, both Renarr’s approach of “Kill Hunn Raal before he causes more harm” and “Leave Hunn Raal to those responsible for him because I cannot deal with him without violating my ideals and principles” are both morally correct (in their respective moral frameworks).
Obviously, Urusander’s position – by this point – borders on indefensible for us as outside observers, and Gallan makes sure you get that, but he does not portray Urusander as “wrong” in his approach per se.
In any case, it dawns – slowly – on Urusander that Renarr is keenly aware of this. She somewhat understands where he’s coming from, and though she can’t bring herself to forgive him for it, she takes no pleasure in what she has to do. Because, as aforementioned, Urusander hasn’t necessarily done anything objectively wrong – if nothing else, more than once, he bordered on actually fixing the whole mess – but he never took the required step to do away with Hunn Raal. And now the whole mess is beyond fixing.
It bears reminding about here that Urusander has not faced Renarr since entering the room. He hears these words – knowing Renarr, utterly inflectionless – and continues facing the window, facing down, and away. And you have to wonder, how much does Urusander know of Renarr, and what is he playing at? He does not understand her, not fully, but he’s not quite dense. And, I think, at this point, he can see how this ends, and so makes one last – indirect – request of Renarr.

“‘What of my son?’
‘His judgement was in error.’
‘Error?’”

Evidently, not the answer Urusander was expecting. It is unclear to me quite how much is known about Osserc & Renarr at this point, and how much of this is Urusander guessing, so I’ll refrain from commenting overmuch.

“‘A young man bereft of responsibility will yearn for it,’ she replied. ‘A young man will see the virtues of duty and honour as shining things, harsh and not subject to compromise. From such a position, he may well make mistakes, but they remain well meant.’
Still he would not face her. ‘Something in you is broken.’
‘Something in me is broken.’
‘My son killed the man you loved. He … misapprehended the situation.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yet, it seems, you have forgiven him.’”

Something within me is itching to bring up Rake “yearning for responsibility” and how this is Gallan indirectly sticking it to him, but that’s a story for another day.
There is something deeply tragic about how Renarr phrases things here. Throughout the book, her thoughts often drift back to Osserc – how “her resistance was feigned,” how “no amount of thrusting cock can make him a man” (Yikes) – and this is the culmination of that. There’s a certain dose of self-loathing mixed in for good measure. But what I want to focus on here is her choice of words: a young man sees the virtues…
But Urusander is not young. To Renarr, Urusander should know better. Duty & honour are not inviolate virtues to be unquestionably upheld: Look where that got us. A realm riven with civil war, a war criminal & murderer free to rampage, because he – first and foremost – discarded duty & honour in the name of personal advancement. And Urusander, well, he remained true to his morals & ideals, but to what end are those morals & ideals helpful if nothing ever gets done?
Something in her is broken indeed. But what truly shocks Vatha is that Renarr finds it in herself to forgive Osserc… but not him. The “why” is a tale for another time – and it’s not one I’m qualified to tell – but let’s just say, it’s shocking for Urusander.

“‘I wish,’ she said, ‘you had killed Hunn Raal. I wish you would stand behind your sense of justice.’
He grunted. ‘No exceptions, no compromises. Had I done what was right, each and every time …’
‘Instead, you did nothing, and now here you stand, Vatha Urusander. Father Light.’”

There, for the less perceptive among us, Gallan throws us a bone. Renarr isn’t forgiving Urusander for letting Raal walk free.
What is interesting, though, is that she appeals to his sense of justice. Which is, I think, one of the first missteps of Renarr in this scene – it is intentional, no doubt – in that, well, he did just that. There was no manner in which Urusander could apprehend Hunn Raal in a way that appeased his sense of justice. And he tells her as much – “no exceptions, no compromises.”
As aforementioned, Renarr is appealing to Urusander’s sense of honour as a soldier; not a scholar of Forulkan works, not a reformer, not “Father Light.” Oddly, this is quite reminiscent of the justice that someone like Dassem Ultor would have his soldiers dispense. No better way to explain than to simply provide the quote:

“Monkrat realized that Spindle was still waiting. 'Do what's right,' Dassem told us. Gods, even after all this time he still remembered the First Sword's words. 'That's a higher law than the command of any officer. Higher even than the Emperor's own words. You are in a damned uniform but that's not a licence to deliver terror to everyone – just the enemy soldier you happen to be facing. Do what is right, for that armour you wear doesn't just protect your flesh and bone. It defends honour. It defends integrity. It defends justice. Soldiers, heed me well. That armour defends humanity. And when I look upon my soldiers, when I see these uniforms, I see compassion and truth. The moment those virtues fail, then the gods help you, for no armour is strong enough to save you.'”

Instead, Urusander stuck to a higher sense of justice, rather uncomfortably close to that of the Forulkan, one born of strict idealism & moral absolutism. Kant ain’t got shit before Vatha Urusander in such matters.
Does that make him bad? Incompetent, impotent, villainous? Is inaction to be equated with cowardice, in a world where actions are always misinterpreted (I mean, just look at Draconus)? Do these questions even matter?
To be honest with you, I don’t know. I’ll tackle this matter a bit later, but the diegesis certainly predisposes us a bit badly towards Vatha Urusander, and I find that to be terribly interesting.

“‘Yes, my blinding gift.’ He was silent for a time, and then he said, ‘Have you seen it yet?’
‘What?’
‘My portrait. In the corridor on the approach to these chambers. Kadaspala did well, I think.’
‘I am afraid I did not notice it,’ Renarr said. ‘I give little regard to art, especially the compromised kind.’
‘Ah, then, are all portraits a compromise? In his sour moments, I think Kadaspala would agree with you.’ He leaned both hands on the windowsill.”

And thus we circle back to one of the defining traits of Father Light: his portrait. It has dominated his character since, well, since he first appeared, posing for Kadaspala and getting irrationally pissed at the artist. Renarr plucks the key idea of it from Urusander’s mind: His portrait is – has always been – a compromise. And he knows this, for how could he not?
His portrait is a political tool in the arsenal of the Kurald Legions to avert civil war. Kadaspala says so himself:

“I have painted a man worthy of being her husband. They will see his strength, his resolute integrity, because these lie on the surface. They will not see the underside of such things – the cruelty beneath strength, the cold pride behind that stern resolution. The blade of judgement grasped firm in integrity’s hand.
They will see in his stance his soldier’s discipline, and the burdens assumed without complaint. Yet see nothing of withered empathy or unreasonable expectation.
In the tones they will find warmth with but a hint of the underlying metal, and in so seeing they will understand nothing of that melding of fire and iron and all that it promises.
My power is vast, the talent undeniable, the vision sure and true. Yet all it leaves me is torment. There is but one god, and its name is beauty. There is but one kind of worship, and that is love. There is for us but one world, and we have scarred it beyond recognition.
Art is the language of the tormented, but the world is blind to that, for ever blind.
Urusander, I see you – I face you now – in the failing light, and you frighten me to the core.
[…]
‘I had a thought.’
‘Indeed, and will you tell me that thought, Kadaspala?’
‘If anyone can prevent civil war’ – and he nodded towards the portrait – ‘it is that man.’”

What could be more of a compromise than this, precisely? And Urusander knows this – even if it took him two books to finally articulate it – he knows his portrait is faked. It’s a compromise. It’s not him on that portrait; it’s Father Light, it’s Mother Dark’s husband, it’s the man that could avert civil war.
He, alas, was not that man. Nor did he aspire to be. And, on some level, the diegesis seems to begrudge him this.

“‘Well,’ he said, ‘it seems that I am not to be forgiven.’
‘Only your son.’
She saw him nod, and then he sighed and said, ‘Tell them, will you, of the likeness. So deftly, so honestly captured by that blind man’s hand.’
‘He was not blind when he painted you, I think.’
‘Wasn’t he? No, demonstrably not, as far as that goes.’”

And this particular exchange is why I sat down to write this essay. That line above. The single line that made me wonder, “how much does this bastard know?” And, moreover, how much does Renarr know?
At first, it sounded to me like an old man’s ravings before his inevitable death. Regrets mounting, a concession of guilt moments before the knife descends. He is not to be forgiven, but his son will live on, not to be hunted by the Fury that is Renarr.
In more recent times, and after further reading (and after talking about it with Steve!), I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t much like that interpretation.
This moment is present for posterity. Vatha & Renarr, father & daughter, one final time. And so, after the more personal matters are done away with – his son’s safety, his not dealing with Hunn Raal, his honour, his sense of justice – they turn to posterity. The portrait was excellent, perfectly & unerringly rendered, to stand the test of time.
But in truth, the language used is very specific. I have no doubt towards Kadaspala’s efficacy & his deftness, but honesty? We saw above that Urusander ought to know that his portrait is, indeed, a compromise. And he amends this, with “blind man.”
Urusander acknowledges that Kadaspala was wrong. He did not paint Vatha Urusander; he painted an idealized form that he wished to paint, a man that could be worthy of being Mother Dark’s husband, a man that could prevent civil war.
And by all accounts, Vatha was pleased. He was… transparent. So expertly portrayed, by a blind man’s hand.
But what if Kadaspala saw true? In his monologue we already saw all the different aspects that he portrayed in his painting, how none who look upon the portrait can see any of it. Nor, one expects, Vatha Urusander. Alas, perhaps Renarr did. And, perhaps, she concurs with Kadaspala: Both the idealized form, and the man himself, frighten her to the core.
And so…

“‘Vatha Urusander,’ said Renarr, ‘there will be justice.’
She saw him nod again, in the instant before her knife sank deep beneath his left shoulder blade, stilling the beat of his heart. Unblinking, she stepped back, leaving the dagger in his back. He tilted forward, forehead striking the leaded window, before his legs gave out and he fell to the floor at her feet.
Looking down, she saw the smile on his face. Peaceful, content, lifeless.”

Anything I say is bound to not do justice (ha) to this scene. Just admire it.
Which brings us to the true meat of this essay, about 3.7k words in. And that is, why? Why do we see this scene like this?
Vatha Urusander is dead. Renarr is – by Steve’s admission – spending the foreseeable future in a cell underneath Kharkanas for his murder. Unless not-quite-blind Gallan has visited her in the cell to get her tale, quite like Rise Herat wished to do earlier, I doubt anybody would have direct access to the information & dialogue spoken between the two.
So why are we seeing it through this lens? What is the goal? What is Gallan trying to show us?
First & foremost, the PoV framing. This isn’t an omniscient scene; we see the world through Renarr’s eyes, eyes weary of the world itself (sound familiar?), a woman too old for her years, filled with regrets & despair. She wields conviction like a knife, but draws no pleasure from what she knows she must do.
Renarr, as aforementioned, is one of the (if not the) few characters that respect Vatha Urusander’s agency. Whatever decisions he ought to make, he must make them himself; it is of utmost importance to her being able to dispense adequate, unsullied justice as she claims she has to.
And so, she does not belittle him. Though you can almost feel the self-loathing & hatred seethe beneath Renarr’s words, she does not seem to hate Urusander whatsoever: Indeed, she deeply regrets this and expresses to him that she wishes he’d done differently.
It is quite tragic that the man that has sought to do good time & again but always seems to have failed is confronted by the very consequences of said actions. Renarr is his adopted daughter, yes, but she is nought but a ghost, wandering aimlessly through the world, taking in its atrocities, while her father stands on the sidelines. And one wonders, where is the emotion from this woman? Why does this feel so… abject? There is no glory, no catharsis to be found in Urusander’s death; no vow avenged, no vengeance gained. “There will be justice” indeed, but when, and how?
Moreover, this scene is – as aforementioned – away from the public eye. Neither Renarr nor Urusander need hold back, and both can converse without watching their words. The cryptic and vague responses are evidently manufactured by Gallan & Fisher, to prove a point.
This scene is also a foregone conclusion. Renarr knows she will kill Urusander the moment Father Light steps into the room. Urusander, while he doesn’t know it immediately, gets a pretty good idea by the time the conversation shifts to Hunn Raal; you can see his tone change accordingly (especially when he asks about Osserc, borderline in desperation). And so, whatever the two of them say, is just between them.
It is, in effect, a last attempt from Gallan to give you an idea of the motivations behind Vatha Urusander and Renarr. The former could never back down from his high ideals of justice, and they led to his downfall; the latter, well, the latter “stirs the ashes of her regret” with a good deal of fatalism mixed in (which is a can of worms I’m not opening).
To close, I think this scene is one of the best, and most dense, scenes in the Malazan mythos. I don’t come close to doing it justice here; for that you need quite a lot of background information from Fall of Light that I simply do not have access to. It is an excellent, cathartic moment that brings the storyline of Fall of Light to a simultaneously satisfying, and extremely unsatisfying, close.
And I think it pays to think about if it happened at all, and what the author – the in-world author, that is – is trying to tell us by portraying it in such a manner. I do not doubt that Urusander was killed in some way, perhaps even in the exact manner that we see here: But the act itself is not what matters, but the dialogue & actions taken by the characters that we see. To ask, “why are we seeing it like this and not in some other manner,” can lead to some fairly interesting questions, and some very interesting revelations.
Until next time!

PODCAST: https://ayearofwarandpeace.podbean.com/e/ep1470-the-oxford-book-of-english-verse-george-meredith/
POET: George Meredith. b. 1828, d. 1909 929-942
PAGE:
PROMPTS:

GEORGE MEREDITH 1828-1909 772. Love in the Valley UNDER yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward, Couch’d with her arms behind her golden head, Knees and tresses folded to slip and ripple idly, Lies my young love sleeping in the shade. Had I the heart to slide an arm beneath her, Press her parting lips as her waist I gather slow, Waking in amazement she could not but embrace me: Then would she hold me and never let me go? . . . Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow, Swift as the swallow along the river’s light Circleting the surface to meet his mirror’d winglets, Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight. Shy as the squirrel that leaps among the pine-tops, Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun, She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won! . . . When her mother tends her before the laughing mirror, Tying up her laces, looping up her hair, Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded, More love should I have, and much less care. When her mother tends her before the lighted mirror, Loosening her laces, combing down her curls, Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded, I should miss but one for many boys and girls. {930} . . . Heartless she is as the shadow in the meadows Flying to the hills on a blue and breezy noon. No, she is athirst and drinking up her wonder: Earth to her is young as the slip of the new moon. Deals she an unkindness, ’tis but her rapid measure, Even as in a dance; and her smile can heal no less: Like the swinging May-cloud that pelts the flowers with hailstones Off a sunny border, she was made to bruise and bless. . . . Lovely are the curves of the white owl sweeping Wavy in the dusk lit by one large star. Lone on the fir-branch, his rattle-note unvaried, Brooding o’er the gloom, spins the brown evejar. Darker grows the valley, more and more forgetting: So were it with me if forgetting could be will’d. Tell the grassy hollow that holds the bubbling well-spring, Tell it to forget the source that keeps it fill’d. . . . Stepping down the hill with her fair companions, Arm in arm, all against the raying West, Boldly she sings, to the merry tune she marches, Brave is her shape, and sweeter unpossess’d. Sweeter, for she is what my heart first awaking Whisper’d the world was; morning light is she. Love that so desires would fain keep her changeless; Fain would fling the net, and fain have her free. . . . Happy happy time, when the white star hovers Low over dim fields fresh with bloomy dew, Near the face of dawn, that draws athwart the darkness, Threading it with colour, like yewberries the yew.{931} Thicker crowd the shades as the grave East deepens Glowing, and with crimson a long cloud swells. Maiden still the morn is; and strange she is, and secret; Strange her eyes; her cheeks are cold as cold sea-shells. . . . Sunrays, leaning on our southern hills and lighting Wild cloud-mountains that drag the hills along, Oft ends the day of your shifting brilliant laughter Chill as a dull face frowning on a song. Ay, but shows the South-west a ripple-feather’d bosom Blown to silver while the clouds are shaken and ascend Scaling the mid-heavens as they stream, there comes a sunset Rich, deep like love in beauty without end. . . . When at dawn she sighs, and like an infant to the window Turns grave eyes craving light, released from dreams, Beautiful she looks, like a white water-lily Bursting out of bud in havens of the streams. When from bed she rises clothed from neck to ankle In her long nightgown sweet as boughs of May, Beautiful she looks, like a tall garden-lily Pure from the night, and splendid for the day. . . . Mother of the dews, dark eye-lash’d twilight, Low-lidded twilight, o’er the valley’s brim, Rounding on thy breast sings the dew-delighted skylark, Clear as though the dewdrops had their voice in him. Hidden where the rose-flush drinks the rayless planet, Fountain-full he pours the spraying fountain-showers. Let me hear her laughter, I would have her ever Cool as dew in twilight, the lark above the flowers. {932} . . . All the girls are out with their baskets for the primrose; Up lanes, woods through, they troop in joyful bands. My sweet leads: she knows not why, but now she loiters, Eyes the bent anemones, and hangs her hands. Such a look will tell that the violets are peeping, Coming the rose: and unaware a cry Springs in her bosom for odours and for colour, Covert and the nightingale; she knows not why. . . . Kerchief’d head and chin she darts between her tulips, Streaming like a willow gray in arrowy rain: Some bend beaten cheek to gravel, and their angel She will be; she lifts them, and on she speeds again. Black the driving raincloud breasts the iron gateway: She is forth to cheer a neighbour lacking mirth. So when sky and grass met rolling dumb for thunder Saw I once a white dove, sole light of earth. . . . Prim little scholars are the flowers of her garden, Train’d to stand in rows, and asking if they please. I might love them well but for loving more the wild ones: O my wild ones! they tell me more than these. You, my wild one, you tell of honied field-rose, Violet, blushing eglantine in life; and even as they, They by the wayside are earnest of your goodness, You are of life’s, on the banks that line the way. . . . Peering at her chamber the white crowns the red rose, Jasmine winds the porch with stars two and three. Parted is the window; she sleeps; the starry jasmine Breathes a falling breath that carries thoughts of me.{933} Sweeter unpossessed, have I said of her my sweetest? Not while she sleeps: while she sleeps the jasmine breathes, Luring her to love; she sleeps; the starry jasmine Bears me to her pillow under white rose-wreaths. . . . Yellow with birdfoot-trefoil are the grass-glades; Yellow with cinquefoil of the dew-gray leaf; Yellow with stonecrop; the moss-mounds are yellow; Blue-neck’d the wheat sways, yellowing to the sheaf. Green-yellow, bursts from the copse the laughing yaffle; Sharp as a sickle is the edge of shade and shine: Earth in her heart laughs looking at the heavens, Thinking of the harvest: I look and think of mine. . . . This I may know: her dressing and undressing Such a change of light shows as when the skies in sport Shift from cloud to moonlight; or edging over thunder Slips a ray of sun; or sweeping into port White sails furl; or on the ocean borders White sails lean along the waves leaping green. Visions of her shower before me, but from eyesight Guarded she would be like the sun were she seen. . . . Front door and back of the moss’d old farmhouse Open with the morn, and in a breezy link Freshly sparkles garden to stripe-shadow’d orchard, Green across a rill where on sand the minnows wink. Busy in the grass the early sun of summer Swarms, and the blackbird’s mellow fluting notes Call my darling up with round and roguish challenge: Quaintest, richest carol of all the singing throats! {934} . . . Cool was the woodside; cool as her white dairy Keeping sweet the cream-pan; and there the boys from school, Cricketing below, rush’d brown and red with sunshine; O the dark translucence of the deep-eyed cool! Spying from the farm, herself she fetch’d a pitcher Full of milk, and tilted for each in turn the beak. Then a little fellow, mouth up and on tiptoe, Said, ‘I will kiss you’: she laugh’d and lean’d her cheek. . . . Doves of the fir-wood walling high our red roof Through the long noon coo, crooning through the coo. Loose droop the leaves, and down the sleepy roadway Sometimes pipes a chaffinch; loose droops the blue. Cows flap a slow tail knee-deep in the river, Breathless, given up to sun and gnat and fly. Nowhere is she seen; and if I see her nowhere, Lightning may come, straight rains and tiger sky. . . . O the golden sheaf, the rustling treasure-armful! O the nutbrown tresses nodding interlaced! O the treasure-tresses one another over Nodding! O the girdle slack about the waist! Slain are the poppies that shot their random scarlet Quick amid the wheat-ears: wound about the waist, Gathered, see these brides of Earth one blush of ripeness! O the nutbrown tresses nodding interlaced! . . . Large and smoky red the sun’s cold disk drops, Clipped by naked hills, on violet shaded snow: Eastward large and still lights up a bower of moonrise, Whence at her leisure steps the moon aglow.{935} Nightlong on black print-branches our beech-tree Gazes in this whiteness: nightlong could I. Here may life on death or death on life be painted. Let me clasp her soul to know she cannot die! . . . Gossips count her faults; they scour a narrow chamber Where there is no window, read not heaven or her. ‘When she was a tiny,’ one agèd woman quavers, Plucks at my heart and leads me by the ear. Faults she had once as she learn’d to run and tumbled: Faults of feature some see, beauty not complete. Yet, good gossips, beauty that makes holy Earth and air, may have faults from head to feet. . . . Hither she comes; she comes to me; she lingers, Deepens her brown eyebrows, while in new surprise High rise the lashes in wonder of a stranger; Yet am I the light and living of her eyes. Something friends have told her fills her heart to brimming, Nets her in her blushes, and wounds her, and tames.— Sure of her haven, O like a dove alighting, Arms up, she dropp’d: our souls were in our names. . . . Soon will she lie like a white frost sunrise. Yellow oats and brown wheat, barley pale as rye, Long since your sheaves have yielded to the thresher, Felt the girdle loosen’d, seen the tresses fly. Soon will she lie like a blood-red sunset. Swift with the to-morrow, green-wing’d Spring! Sing from the South-west, bring her back the truants, Nightingale and swallow, song and dipping wing. {936} . . . Soft new beech-leaves, up to beamy April Spreading bough on bough a primrose mountain, you Lucid in the moon, raise lilies to the skyfields, Youngest green transfused in silver shining through: Fairer than the lily, than the wild white cherry: Fair as in image my seraph love appears Borne to me by dreams when dawn is at my eyelids: Fair as in the flesh she swims to me on tears. . . . Could I find a place to be alone with heaven, I would speak my heart out: heaven is my need. Every woodland tree is flushing like the dogwood, Flashing like the whitebeam, swaying like the reed. Flushing like the dogwood crimson in October; Streaming like the flag-reed South-west blown; Flashing as in gusts the sudden-lighted whitebeam: All seem to know what is for heaven alone. 773. Phœbus with Admetus WHEN by Zeus relenting the mandate was revoked, Sentencing to exile the bright Sun-God, Mindful were the ploughmen of who the steer had yoked, Who: and what a track show’d the upturn’d sod! Mindful were the shepherds, as now the noon severe Bent a burning eyebrow to brown evetide, How the rustic flute drew the silver to the sphere, Sister of his own, till her rays fell wide. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure.{937} Chirping none, the scarlet cicalas crouch’d in ranks: Slack the thistle-head piled its down-silk gray: Scarce the stony lizard suck’d hollows in his flanks: Thick on spots of umbrage our drowsed flocks lay. Sudden bow’d the chestnuts beneath a wind unheard, Lengthen’d ran the grasses, the sky grew slate: Then amid a swift flight of wing’d seed white as curd, Clear of limb a Youth smote the master’s gate. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure. Water, first of singers, o’er rocky mount and mead, First of earthly singers, the sun-loved rill, Sang of him, and flooded the ripples on the reed, Seeking whom to waken and what ear fill. Water, sweetest soother to kiss a wound and cool, Sweetest and divinest, the sky-born brook, Chuckled, with a whimper, and made a mirror-pool Round the guest we welcomed, the strange hand shook. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure. Many swarms of wild bees descended on our fields: Stately stood the wheatstalk with head bent high: Big of heart we labour’d at storing mighty yields, Wool and corn, and clusters to make men cry! Hand-like rush’d the vintage; we strung the bellied skins Plump, and at the sealing the Youth’s voice rose: Maidens clung in circle, on little fists their chins; Gentle beasties through push’d a cold long nose.{938} God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure. Foot to fire in snowtime we trimm’d the slender shaft: Often down the pit spied the lean wolf’s teeth Grin against his will, trapp’d by masterstrokes of craft; Helpless in his froth-wrath as green logs seethe! Safe the tender lambs tugg’d the teats, and winter sped Whirl’d before the crocus, the year’s new gold. Hung the hooky beak up aloft, the arrowhead Redden’d through his feathers for our dear fold. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darkened That had thee here obscure. Tales we drank of giants at war with gods above: Rocks were they to look on, and earth climb’d air! Tales of search for simples, and those who sought of love Ease because the creature was all too fair. Pleasant ran our thinking that while our work was good, Sure as fruits for sweat would the praise come fast. He that wrestled stoutest and tamed the billow-brood Danced in rings with girls, like a sail-flapp’d mast. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure. Lo, the herb of healing, when once the herb is known, Shines in shady woods bright as new-sprung flame. Ere the string was tighten’d we heard the mellow tone, After he had taught how the sweet sounds came.{939} Stretch’d about his feet, labour done, ’twas as you see Red pomegranates tumble and burst hard rind. So began contention to give delight and be Excellent in things aim’d to make life kind. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure. You with shelly horns, rams! and, promontory goats, You whose browsing beards dip in coldest dew! Bulls, that walk the pastures in kingly-flashing coats! Laurel, ivy, vine, wreathed for feasts not few! You that build the shade-roof, and you that court the rays, You that leap besprinkling the rock stream-rent: He has been our fellow, the morning of our days; Us he chose for housemates, and this way went. God! of whom music And song and blood are pure, The day is never darken’d That had thee here obscure. 774. Tardy Spring NOW the North wind ceases, The warm South-west awakes; Swift fly the fleeces, Thick the blossom-flakes. Now hill to hill has made the stride, And distance waves the without-end: Now in the breast a door flings wide; Our farthest smiles, our next is friend.{940} And song of England’s rush of flowers Is this full breeze with mellow stops, That spins the lark for shine, for showers; He drinks his hurried flight, and drops. The stir in memory seem these things, Which out of moisten’d turf and clay, Astrain for light push patient rings, Or leap to find the waterway. ’Tis equal to a wonder done, Whatever simple lives renew Their tricks beneath the father sun, As though they caught a broken clue: So hard was earth an eyewink back; But now the common life has come, The blotting cloud a dappled pack, The grasses one vast underhum. A City clothed in snow and soot, With lamps for day in ghostly rows, Breaks to the scene of hosts afoot, The river that reflective flows: And there did fog down crypts of street Play spectre upon eye and mouth:— Their faces are a glass to greet This magic of the whirl for South. A burly joy each creature swells With sound of its own hungry quest; Earth has to fill her empty wells, And speed the service of the nest; The phantom of the snow-wreath melt, That haunts the farmer’s look abroad, Who sees what tomb a white night built, Where flocks now bleat and sprouts the clod. For iron Winter held her firm;{941} Across her sky he laid his hand; And bird he starved, he stiffen’d worm; A sightless heaven, a shaven land. Her shivering Spring feign’d fast asleep. The bitten buds dared not unfold: We raced on roads and ice to keep Thought of the girl we love from cold. But now the North wind ceases, The warm South-west awakes, The heavens are out in fleeces, And earth’s green banner shakes. 775. Love’s Grave MARK where the pressing wind shoots javelin-like, Its skeleton shadow on the broad-back’d wave! Here is a fitting spot to dig Love’s grave; Here where the ponderous breakers plunge and strike, And dart their hissing tongues high up the sand: In hearing of the ocean, and in sight Of those ribb’d wind-streaks running into white. If I the death of Love had deeply plann’d, I never could have made it half so sure, As by the unblest kisses which upbraid The full-waked sense; or failing that, degrade! ’Tis morning: but no morning can restore What we have forfeited. I see no sin: The wrong is mix’d. In tragic life, God wot, No villain need be! Passions spin the plot: We are betray’d by what is false within. {942} 776. Lucifer in Starlight ON a starr’d night Prince Lucifer uprose. Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend Above the rolling ball in cloud part screen’d, Where sinners hugg’d their spectre of repose. Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those. And now upon his western wing he lean’d, Now his huge bulk o’er Afric’s sands careen’d, Now the black planet shadow’d Arctic snows. Soaring through wider zones that prick’d his scars With memory of the old revolt from Awe, He reach’d a middle height, and at the stars, Which are the brain of heaven, he look’d, and sank. Around the ancient track march’d, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law. 

Links:

Whole story on google dock. First post with bening of the story.

Chapter 4 - New room

I need a loot chest. Treasure to be pondered. Valuables to be taken, valuables I won't miss. Come to think of it, that is not entirely right. I am not creating valuables myself. I am growing or designating a container as a loot chest, and it takes care of the rest. I'm not entirely certain how it works, however, here it seems that the more I think about something, the better my understanding.
Regardless of what it is or how it operates. It took a while to grow, a whole 32 days, and who knows how long until it became useful. I suppose better safe than sorry. Once completed, it stared slowly gather loot. There were diminishing returns, but that's something to investigate later. At 5 days, I tried having a rat loot it, but it found nothing. Yet it felt like it was there. Quite a strange behaviour. Hopefully it will be there when a delver comes, somehow I feel confident that it will.
Inner working of loot chest aside. Mana in storage, is mana not working. I need an expansion plan. My floor space is running low, so either I put a planter near the roof or I expand. Neither seems like a great idea. For the planter, I would need a different plant, something to hang down and catch sunlight thought the window. I vaguely recall fern like that at my grandmothers house, but I don’t feel entirely confident about recreating it from scratch. Another possibility is getting one from outside… do ferns even have seeds and if they do. How do I instruct my minions to look for one. The map room… no, the war room.
War room is an idea I had brewing for a while. A map and some mana patterns. I think I can do it. The question is where. I could grow another room, but that’s a lot of walls to grow, and for all of their tunnelling, rats aren’t going to help with construction. They can hollow out the room, but I still have to build the walls. Another thing, I really need moths to have easy access to it, as they are what I send out for expeditions. Their attic is a craw space with barely enough room for their spawner, but that might be a good thing, I could lift the roof a tiny bit, keep the nest attached to the ceiling and lay the map below it.
Not exactly elegant, but relatively cheap. 10 days add space and 18 to wave it into war room. However, I must say, it was worth it. Over just a few expeditions, I started forming some understanding of the area. First the resource note, flowers, fruit, sap leaking trees, and all other things' moth found testy. I knew they were pollinators and could eat smaller bugs, but all the other stuff, news to me. Also, seems I am in a forest, good to know. Second things, dangerous areas, birds, bats, spiders and wasps, all those things can kill moths. They could be replaced, but it meant no return on expedition cost.
It did some time take to develop a decent strategy. Most kill bugs are stationary, simply stay away from their nest, and they stay away. Similarly, with spiders, new webs form regularly, but ones found they can be avoided. The bigger issue were birds and bats, they are actively hunting, but even they have patters. Predicting their movements, means fewer losses. Fewer losses mean I am confident sending more of them out. Combine it with the fact that they gather more mana by focusing on good spots, and efficiency gains are substantial. Not as great as with strawberries, but substantial, and my strategy is improving. On top of that, I am finally learning about the outside world. However, the bast part is, I am having fun. It feels like a game, games with slowness ravening Neptune's Pride, but everything is slow when you are a dungeon.
Except the doors suddenly opening, that blind sided me.

Chapter 5 - First Delver

I was deep in thought. Carefully planing out the route for tonight's expeditions when the door opened and somebody comes inside. Day 173 as a dungeon, and this is the first person I see. I supposed the chest will be finally paying off, I made it 44 days ago, quite a bit, but sooner than I expected. One step and she is inside. Yeah… I am small, and she is on the taller side, taller than most men I knew back on earth. Long straight black hair, pale skin, heterochromia. What is she doing here?
At firs, she looked around, and it seems strawberry planers cough her attention. She started moving leaves around, looking for ripe fruit, but they need 2 more days. However, all this movement waken up one of my moths. It takes off, disoriented, looking for a different napping spot. However, the girl jump, screamed. Not a fan of bugs? They all can’t be winners, but come on. This is just a goth butterfly. Then a crack of electricity, a spark, left her fingers and fried the innocent moth.
Now that’s rude, huh? Where is this mana coming from… how did losing a moth produce mana. I send another one. No jumping on streaming this time, but another spark and another surge of mana.
I didn’t get any mana from snakes diving into my rat tunnels and devouring them… this is odd. Does this happen with all people, or just this girl? I can wonder this later, now it’s pay day. I started sending out rats, one at a time, but their deaths produced a lot more mana.
Seems I am getting mana even just from her fighting. In that case, perhaps I shouldn’t make it easy. As she was zapping rats with scary accuracy, but a few volts short of one hit knock out. I formed my moths into a swarm, and have them flutter around her head. Throwing of aim and generally being a nuisance. Given, it took her just 3 zaps to get rid of them, but it was enough for the raps to get some bites in. Each bite had like 5 spiders worth of mana. Just how much mana can I get from her?
Soon enough, she was all sweaty and short of breath, I had more rats to spare without compromising my defence. Enough to overwhelm and probably kill… but as much as I like mana, I am not going to commit murder for it.
Rather… I just left her alone, and see what will be her nest step. “Alright dungeon, but better have some good loot.” She said, reaching for the chest. Judging but her face, I did not disappoint. She stuffed all I had into a backpack. Mostly jewellery and coins, but mostly copper and iron with a dash of gold and silver, and I even spotted 2 gemstones. She was taking them by a handful, so surely missed something's, but by all accounts we both got a nice payday today. Even her taking the loot, generated mana. Seriously, what doesn’t make mana with her? I suppose I won’t have time to experiment, seeing that she left. However, her parting words were just wonderful. Simple “I’ll be back” but my mind envisioned all the mana I will get from it.
Come to think of… how does this mana work. I know I get it from anything my minions eat, even photosynthesized sunlight. I can use it in place of mundane labour, food, and I can also produce magical effects with it. With magical effects doing a lot of leg work; so far I assimilated moths, and strawberries, made a rat spawner and made a war room. Spell casting should also be possible. Now… how does this factor into this girl. Bites the rat took probably count as eating. However, her fighting, kill and looting. Those are new. This feels like a people thing… but maybe just her specifically. I suppose it’s worth investigating because payout is crazy. In this one evening, I made like double my lifetime production.
Another thing is. How did she get so pale, should I expect snow soon? Maybe anaemia or some illness? Maybe mild albinism or exotic parentage. Probably not albinism giver her hair. Really most likely is that this area doesn’t get much sunlight, meaning a colder climate, meaning what I experienced so far must be summer… not good, the cold won’t be good for my dwellers.

Chapter 6 - To be a dungeon

Now I have mana to spare, and I am expecting the adventure lady to come back. This means, I should become a proper dungeon, not a tiny shed. Right now, I don’t even have enough room for proper sward swimming. If I double the length of my wall, this will enough scratch your arms. Given the high of this girl, this might not be enough, but for now it will have to do.
Second thing is, both my rat and moth population took a hit. I am keeping up with pest control, but I will be holing expedition for now. Either way, a second spawner of each sounds like a solid plan. I do expect her to come with extra gear, hopeful this will be a mutely beneficial relationship.
Speaking of benefits, the third thing my new mana influx is going to, chest upgrades. Last time she got 44 days worth of loot, and I'm expecting the second visit to not take this long. She did new I am a dungeon… hopefully she knows something about recovery rates. With a second spawner, I will be 7 days to return to me previous levels, but of course, double the spawners, double the limit.
Now one more thing to prepare, I will leave some strawberries on the bush. Perhaps this too can lead to some mana. Then I can evaluate gains from that her against feeing them to rats. Regardless, she will be my source of income.
10 days. It took her but 10 days to return. I immediately noticed her new boots. A layer of chain mail impossible for rats to bite through. It also came with a new trick. Lightning zapped from the boot directly. Meaning, even climbing to her unprotected shins wasn’t too viable for rats. Few tried jumping, and while it seemed like the best strategy, they weren’t the best at it. At this rate, she will chew thought my available troops without breaking a sweat, even a moth swarm won’t help much.
I need a new trick, a gambit. Something to surprise her. It can be risky, just anything. Here is an idea. First a moth swarm, surrounds her, just a moment of disorientation. She closed her eyes, and started chanting… odd, but it works for my plan. Now the big one, fly straight at her, into her face. There is a thud, the force is just enough to throw her off balance, a step back, leaning against the wall. She screams, an angry, ear-piercing scream that carries electrical discharge. All my moths fall, all dead, except the big one. Regardless, it’s burned and daze. I have it craw into mouse hole and hide. She has done enough for this fight. Now rats can use the fall and jump on the girl, get a few bites in.
Of course, she recovers fast enough, lashing out with a flurry of lightning. She is mad, strikes harder but more carelessly. This is good, I keep my rats moving, narrowly avoiding some hits. She is still hitting more often than not, but her accuracy is down. Each bolt she casts with violent motion and a loud crack of thunder. Her hair flow into her face, yet this doesn’t care.
Eventually the onslaught has to stop. She could possibly handle more rats, but I need a defence force. The girl looks suspiciously around, looking for rats, but eventually calms down, assuming the battle is over. Then I hear her laugh, a happy, wholehearted laugh. Seem she found the challenge fun. Good, this might very well be a start of a rivalry.
After a moment to collect herself, she took the loot, ate the few strawberries left, and I was alone. Ones, again, sitting on a big pile of mana. Feeding her does indeed produce mana, way more than rats. However, the majority seems to come from how hard she fights. In that case, I better prepare for our next battle. No doubt she will have some new tricks by then, so I better prepare a few of my own.

Continuation (chapters 7-9)

PODCAST: https://ayearofwarandpeace.podbean.com/e/ep1438-the-oxford-book-of-english-verse-john-keats-2/
POET: John Keats. b. 1795, d. 1821
PAGE:721-744
PROMPTS: byo

To Autumn SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind, Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,{734}— While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. 628. Ode on Melancholy NO, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kist By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; Make not your rosary of yew-berries, Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries; For shade to shade will come too drowsily, And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul. But when the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave, Or on the wealth of globèd peonies; Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.{735} She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung. 629. Fragment of an Ode to Maia (Written on May-Day, 1818) MOTHER of Hermes! and still youthful Maia! May I sing to thee As thou wast hymnèd on the shores of Baiæ? Or may I woo thee In earlier Sicilian? or thy smiles Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles, By bards who died content on pleasant sward, Leaving great verse unto a little clan? O give me their old vigour! and unheard Save of the quiet primrose, and the span Of heaven, and few ears, Rounded by thee, my song should die away Content as theirs, Rich in the simple worship of a day. {736} 630. Bards of Passion and of Mirth Written on the Blank Page before Beaumont and Fletcher’s Tragi-Comedy ‘The Fair Maid of the Inn’ BARDS of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Doubled-lived in regions new? Yes, and those of heaven commune With the spheres of sun and moon; With the noise of fountains wondrous, And the parle of voices thund’rous; With the whisper of heaven’s trees And one another, in soft ease Seated on Elysian lawns Browsed by none but Dian’s fawns; Underneath large blue-bells tented, Where the daisies are rose-scented, And the rose herself has got Perfume which on earth is not; Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, trancèd thing, But divine melodious truth; Philosophic numbers smooth; Tales and golden histories Of heaven and its mysteries. Thus ye live on high, and then On the earth ye live again; And the souls ye left behind you Teach us, here, the way to find you, Where your other souls are joying, Never slumber’d, never cloying.{737} Here, your earth-born souls still speak To mortals, of their little week; Of their sorrows and delights; Of their passions and their spites; Of their glory and their shame; What doth strengthen and what maim. Thus ye teach us, every day, Wisdom, though fled far away. Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Ye have souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions new! 631. Fancy EVER let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; Then let wingèd Fancy wander Through the thought still spread beyond her: Open wide the mind’s cage-door, She’ll dart forth, and cloudward soar. O sweet Fancy! let her loose; Summer’s joys are spoilt by use, And the enjoying of the Spring Fades as does its blossoming: Autumn’s red-lipp’d fruitage too, Blushing through the mist and dew, Cloys with tasting: What do then? Sit thee by the ingle, when The sear faggot blazes bright,{738} Spirit of a winter’s night; When the soundless earth is muffled, And the cakèd snow is shuffled From the ploughboy’s heavy shoon; When the Night doth meet the Noon In a dark conspiracy To banish Even from her sky. Sit thee there, and send abroad, With a mind self-overawed, Fancy, high-commission’d:—send her! She has vassals to attend her: She will bring, in spite of frost, Beauties that the earth hath lost; She will bring thee, all together, All delights of summer weather; All the buds and bells of May, From dewy sward or thorny spray; All the heapèd Autumn’s wealth, With a still, mysterious stealth: She will mix these pleasures up Like three fit wines in a cup, And thou shalt quaff it:—thou shalt hear Distant harvest-carols clear; Rustle of the reapèd corn; Sweet birds antheming the morn: And, in the same moment—hark! ’Tis the early April lark, Or the rooks, with busy caw, Foraging for sticks and straw. Thou shalt, at one glance, behold The daisy and the marigold; White-plumed lilies, and the first Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;{739} Shaded hyacinth, alway Sapphire queen of the mid-May; And every leaf, and every flower Pearlèd with the self-same shower. Thou shalt see the fieldmouse peep Meagre from its cellèd sleep; And the snake all winter-thin Cast on sunny bank its skin; Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see Hatching in the hawthorn-tree, When the hen-bird’s wing doth rest Quiet on her mossy nest; Then the hurry and alarm When the beehive casts its swarm; Acorns ripe down-pattering While the autumn breezes sing. O sweet Fancy! let her loose; Every thing is spoilt by use: Where’s the cheek that doth not fade, Too much gazed at? Where’s the maid Whose lip mature is ever new? Where’s the eye, however blue, Doth not weary? Where’s the face One would meet in every place? Where’s the voice, however soft, One would hear so very oft? At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth Like to bubbles when rain pelteth. Let, then, wingèd Fancy find Thee a mistress to thy mind: Dulcet-eyed as Ceres’ daughter, Ere the God of Torment taught her{740} How to frown and how to chide; With a waist and with a side White as Hebe’s, when her zone Slipt its golden clasp, and down Fell her kirtle to her feet, While she held the goblet sweet, And Jove grew languid.—Break the mesh Of the Fancy’s silken leash; Quickly break her prison-string, And such joys as these she’ll bring.— Let the wingèd Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home. 632. Stanzas IN a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them, With a sleety whistle through them; Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne’er remember Apollo’s summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time.{741} Ah! would ’twere so with many A gentle girl and boy! But were there ever any Writhed not at passèd joy? To know the change and feel it, When there is none to heal it, Nor numbèd sense to steal it, Was never said in rhyme. 633. La Belle Dame sans Merci ‘O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering? The sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing. ‘O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel’s granary is full, And the harvest’s done. ‘I see a lily on thy brow With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.’ ‘I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful—a faery’s child, Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild. ‘I made a garland for her head, And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; She look’d at me as she did love, And made sweet moan.{742} ‘I set her on my pacing steed And nothing else saw all day long, For sideways would she lean, and sing A faery’s song. ‘She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild and manna dew, And sure in language strange she said, “I love thee true!” ‘She took me to her elfin grot, And there she wept and sigh’d full sore; And there I shut her wild, wild eyes With kisses four. ‘And there she lullèd me asleep, And there I dream’d—Ah! woe betide! The latest dream I ever dream’d On the cold hill’s side. ‘I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; Who cried—“La belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!” ‘I saw their starved lips in the gloam With horrid warning gapèd wide, And I awoke and found me here On the cold hill’s side. ‘And this is why I sojourn here Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing.’ {743} 634. On first looking into Chapman’s Homer MUCH have I travell’d in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne: Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific—and all his men Look’d at each other with a wild surmise— Silent, upon a peak in Darien. 635. When I have Fears that I may cease to be WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charact’ry, Hold like full garners the full-ripen’d grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And feel that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think, Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink. {744} 636. To Sleep O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight! Shutting with careful fingers and benign Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower’d from the light, Enshaded in forgetfulness divine; O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes, Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities; Then save me, or the passèd day will shine Upon my pillow, breeding many woes; Save me from curious conscience, that still lords Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards, And seal the hushèd casket of my soul. 637. Last Sonnet BRIGHT Star, would I were steadfast as thou art— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature’s patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priest-like task Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors— No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death. 

Whitebeard's sickness weakened all 3 forms of his haki. This caused his reflexes to dwindle, causing him to get stabbed by Sward before even joining the battle
He suffered a literal heart attack during his first scuffle with Akainu, causing him to take 2 lava fists
Despite this, he still took on basically all the marines barring the big players (Admirals + Sengoku and Garp) for a while. He even later fought Akainu again and quite literally sent him to the depths of hell and almost brought down marineford
A lot of his injuries seem to be due to his sickness. He was weakened in strength, speed, reflexes, durability, haki, you name it. And even his devil fruit powers (that almost sunk marineford before the battle even started) were weakened.
Assuming he was still old but not sick and everything else was the same, do you think he could've won and saved Ace? He was already trading blows with Akainu even with the sickness so I think he would kinda just mop the floor with him and the other admirals one by one if he wasn't.
And what do you think would happen when Blackbeard comes (or if it would even take that long before they leave)? Do you think his crew just dies then and there or will it be more complicated?

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cures curia curio curls curly curry curse curst curve curvy cushy cusps cuter cutie cutup cyber cycle cynic cysts czars dacha daddy daily dairy daisy dales dally dames damns dance dandy dared darer dares darks darns darts dated dater dates datum daubs daunt dawns deals dealt deans dears death debar debit debts debug debut decaf decal decay decks decor decoy decry deeds deems deeps defer deify deign deity delay delft delis delta delve demon demos demur denim dense dents depot depth derby derma desks deter detox deuce devil dhows dials diary diced dicer dices dicey dicks didst diets digit dikes dildo dills dilly dimes dimly dinar dined diner dines dingo dingy dinky diode dippy dirge dirty disco discs disks ditch ditsy ditto ditty ditzy divan divas dived diver dives divvy dizzy docks dodge dodgy dodos doers doeth doges doggy dogma doing doled doles dolls dolly dolor dolts domes donor donut dooms doors doozy doped doper dopes dopey dorks dorky dorms dosed doses doted dotes dotty doubt dough douse doves dowdy dowel dower downs downy dowry dowse doyen dozed dozen dozer dozes drabs draft drags drain drake drama drams drank drape drawl drawn draws dread dream drear dregs dress dribs dried drier dries drift drill drink drips drive droit droll drone drool droop drops dross drove drown drugs druid drums drunk dryad dryer dryly ducal ducat duchy ducks ducky ducts dudes duels duets dukes dulls dully dummy dumps dumpy dunce dunes dungy dunks duped dupes durst dusky dusts dusty dutch duvet dwarf dweeb dwell dwelt dying dykes eager eagle earls early earns earth eased easel easer eases eaten eater eaves ebbed ebony eclat edema edges edict edify edits educe eerie egged egret eider eight eject eking eland elate elbow elder elect elegy elfin elide elite elope elude elves email embed ember emcee emend emery emits emote empty enact ended endow enema enemy enjoy ennui ensue enter entry envoy eosin epics epoch epoxy equal equip erase erect ergot erode erred error erupt essay ester ether ethic ethos ethyl etude evade evens event every evict evils evoke exact exalt exams excel execs exert exile exist exits expel expos extol extra exude exult eying fable faced facer faces facet facts faded fader fades fails faint fairs fairy faith faked faker fakes fakir falls false famed fames fancy fangs fanny farce fared fares farms farts fasts fatal fated fates fatso fatty fault fauna fauns favor fawns faxed faxes fayed fazed fazes fears feast feats fecal feces feeds feels feign feint fella fells felon felts femme femur fence fends fenny feral ferns ferry fests fetal fetch fetes fetid fetor fetus feuds fever fewer fiber fibre fiche ficus field fiend fiery fifes fifth fifty fight filed filer files filet fills filly films filmy filth final finch finds fined finer fines finis finks fired fires firms first firth fishy fists fiver fives fixed fixer fixes fizzy fjord flack flags flail flair flake flaky flame flank flans flaps flare flash flask flats flaws fleas fleck fleer flees fleet flesh flick flied flier flies fling flint flips flirt float flock floes flood floor flops flora floss flour flout flown flows flubs fluff fluid fluke flume flung flunk flush flute flyby flyer foals foams foamy focal focus fogey foggy foils foist folds folic folio folks folly fonts foods fools foots footy foray force fordo forge forgo forks forms forte forth forts forty forum fouls found fount fours fovea fowls foxed foxes foyer frail frame franc frank frats fraud frays freak freed freer frees fresh frets friar fried fries frill frisk fritz frizz frock frogs frond front frosh frost froth frown froze fruit frump fryer fucks fudge fudgy fuels fugue fully fumed fumes funds fungi funks funky funny furor furry furze fused fusel fuses fussy futon fuzzy gable gaffe gaily gains gaits galas gales galls gamed gamer games gamey gamin gamma gammy gamut gangs ganja gapes garbs gases gasps gassy gates gator gauds gaudy gauge gaunt gauss gauze gauzy gavel gawks gawky gayer gayly gazed gazer gazes gears gecko geeks geeky geese genes genie genii genre gents genus geode germs germy getup ghost ghoul giant gibes giddy gifts gills gilts gimps gimpy ginks gipsy girls girly girth gismo given giver gives gizmo glace glade glair gland glare glary glass glaze gleam glean glebe glens glide glint glitz gloat globe globs gloom glory gloss glove glows glued glues gluey gluon gluts glyph gnarl gnash gnats gnaws gnome goals goats godly gofer going golem golly gonad goner gongs gonna goods goody gooey goofs goofy gooks goons goony goops goopy goose gored gorge gorse gouge gourd gouts gouty gowns goyim grabs grace grade grads graft grail grain grams grand grant grape graph grasp grass grate grave gravy grays graze great greed green greet grids grief grill grime grimy grind grins gripe grips grist grits groan groat groin groom grope gross group grout grove growl grown grows grubs gruel gruff grump grunt guano guard guava guess guest guide guild guile guilt guiro guise gulag gulch gules gulfs gulls gully gulps gumbo gummy gunny guppy gurus gushy gussy gusto gusts gusty gutsy gutty gypsy gyros habit hacks hafiz haiku hails hairs hairy hajji hakim halls halos halts halve hammy hands handy hangs hanky happy hardy harem hares harms harps harpy harry harsh haste hasty hatch hated hater hates hauls haunt haute haven haves havoc hawed hawks hazed hazel heads heady heals heaps heard hears heart heath heats heave heavy hedge heels hefty heirs heist helix hello hells helot helps hence henna herbs herds heron hertz hewed hexes hicks hides highs hiked hiker hikes hills hilly hilts hinge hints hippo hippy hired hires hissy hitch hives hoard hoary hobby hobos hocks hoist hokey hokum holds holed holes holey hollo holly homed homer homes homey homos honed hones honey honks honky honor hooch hoods hooey hoofs hooks hooky hoops hoots hoped hoper hopes horde horns horny horse hosed hoses hosts hotel hotly hound hours house hovel hover howdy howls hubby huffs huffy huger hulas hulks hulls human humid humor humph humps humpy humus hunch hunks hunky hunts hurls hurry hurts husks husky hussy hutch huzza hydro hyena hymen hymns hyoid hyped hyper hypes hypos hyrax iambs icily icing icons ideal ideas idiom idiot idler idles idols idyll igloo ileum iliac image imams imbed imbue impel imply inane inbox incur index indie inept inert infer ingle ingot inker inlay inlet inner input inset inter intro inure ionic irate irked irons irony isles islet issue itchy items ivory jabot jacks jaded jails japan jaunt jawed jazzy jeans jeeps jeers jelly jerks jerky jests jetty jewel jibed jibes jiffy jihad jingo jinks jived jives joins joint joist joked joker jokes jokey jolly jolts jolty joule joust jowls judge juice juicy jukes julep jumbo jumps jumpy junco junks junky junta junto juror jutes kabob kanji kapok kappa kaput karat karma karts kasha kayak kazoo kebab kebob kedge keels keens keeps kendo keyed khaki kicks kiddo kiddy kikes kills kilos kilts kinds kings kinks kinky kiosk kissy kites kitty kiwis klutz knack knave knead kneed kneel knees knell knelt knife knish knits knobs knock knoll knots known knows koala kooks kooky korma kraut krill kudos kudzu label labia labor laced laces lacks laden ladle lager lairs lakes lambs lamer lames lamps lanai lance lands lanes lanky lapel lapis lapse larch lards large larks larva laser lasso lasts latch later latex lathe latke latte lauds laugh lawns layer layup leach leads leafs leafy leaks leaky leans leant leaps leapt learn leary lease leash least leave ledge leech leeks leers leery lefts lefty legal leggy legit lemma lemon lemur lends leper letch letup levee level lever lexis liars libel licit licks liege lifer lifts light liked liken likes lilac lilts limbo limbs limes limey limit limos limps lined linen liner lines lingo lings links linty lions lipid lippy liras lisps lists liter lithe lived liven liver lives livid llama loads loafs loamy loans loath lobar lobby lobes local locks locos locum locus lodge lofts lofty logic login logon logos loins lolls lolly loner longs looks looms loons loony loops loopy loose loots lopes lords lorry loser loses lotto lotus loupe louse lousy louts loved lover loves lower lowly loyal luaus lubed lubes lucid lucks lucky lucre luger lulls lumen lumps lumpy lunar lunch lunge lungs lupus lurch lured lures lurid lurks lusts lusty lutes lying lymph lynch lyric macaw maces macho macro madam madly mafia mages magic magma maids mails mains maize major maker makes males malls malts mamas mambo mamma mammy manes manga mange mango mangy mania manic manly manna manor manse manta maple march mares marks marry marsh marts maser masks mason masse masts match mated mates matey matte matzo mauls mauve maven maxim maybe mayor mazes meads meals mealy means meant meats meaty mecca medal media medic meets melee melon melts memos mends menus meows mercy merge merit merry meson messy metal meted meter metro mewed mezzo miaow micas micro middy midge midst might mikes milch miler miles milks milky mimed mimeo mimes mimic mince minds mined miner mines minim minis minks minor mints minty minus mired mirth miser missy mists misty miter mites mitts mixed mixer mixes moans moats mocha mocks modal model modem modes modus mogul moist molar molds moldy moles molls momma mommy money mongo monks month mooch moods moody mooed moons moony moors moose moped moral moray morel mores moron morph mosey mossy motel motet moths motif motor motto mould moult mound mount mourn mouse mousy mouth moved mover moves movie mowed mower moxie mucks mucky mucus muddy muffs muggy mulch mules mummy mumps munch mural murky mused muses mushy music musky musts musty muted mutes mutts muzzy mynah myrrh myths nabob nacho nacre nadir naiad nails naira naive naked named names nanas nanny nappy nards nasal nasty natal natty naval navel nears necks needs needy negro negus neigh nerds nerdy nerve nervy nests never nevus newel newer newly newsy nexus nicer niche niece nifty night nines ninja ninny ninth nippy niter nitro nixed noble nobly nodal nodes noise noisy nomad nonce nones nooks noose norms north nosed noses nosey notch noted notes nouns novel nubby nudes nudge nudie nuked nukes numbs nurse nutty nylon nymph oaken oakum oasis oaths obese obeys obits objet oboes occur ocean ochre octal octet odder oddly odors offal offer often ogled ogres oiled oinks okapi okays olden older oldie oleic olive ombre omega omens onion onset oomph oozed oozes opals opens opera opine opium opted optic orals orate orbed orbit order organ oriel osier other otter ought ounce ousts outdo outer outgo ovary ovate ovens overt ovine ovoid owing owlet owned owner oxbow oxide ozone paced pacer paces packs pacts paddy padre paean pagan paged pager pages pails pains paint pairs paled paler pales palms palmy palsy panda panel panes pangs panic pansy pants panty papal papas papaw paper parch parer pares parka parks parry parse parts party pasha passe pasta paste pasts pasty patch paten paths patio patsy patty pause paved paver paves pawed pawns payee payer peace peach peaks peaky pearl pears pease peaty pecan pecks pedal peeks peels peeps peers peeve pekoe pelts penal pence penis penne penny peons peony peppy perch peril perks perky perms pesky pesos pesto pests petal petty phage phase phial phish phlox phone phony photo phyla piano picks picky picot piece piers piety piggy pigmy piker pikes pilaf piled piles pills pilot pimps pinch pined pines piney pings pinks pinky pinot pinto pints pinup pious piped piper pipes pique pitas pitch pithy piton pivot pixel pixie pizza place plaid plain plait plane plank plans plant plasm plate playa plays plaza plead pleas pleat plebe plebs plied plier plies plink plods plops plots plows ploys pluck plugs plumb plume plump plums plumy plunk plush poach pocks podgy poems poesy poets point poise poked poker pokes polar poles polio polka polls polyp ponds pongs pooch pools poops popes poppy porch pored pores porky porno ports posed poser poses posit posse posts potty pouch pound pours pouts pouty power prank prate prawn prays preen preps press preys price prick pride pried pries prigs prima prime primo primp print prior prism privy prize probe prods proem promo proms prone prong proof props prose prosy proud prove prowl proxy prude prune psalm psych pubes pubic pubis pucks pudgy puffs puffy puked pukes pukka pulls pulps pulpy pulse pumas pumps punch punks punts pupae pupal pupas pupil puppy puree purer purge purrs purse pushy pussy putts putty pygmy pylon pyres quack quads quaff quail quake qualm quark quart quash quasi queen queer quell query quest queue quick quiet quill quilt quint quips quire quirk quite quits quota quote quoth rabbi rabid raced racer races racks radar radii radio radix radon rafts raged rages raids rails rains rainy raise rajah raked rakes rally ralph ramen ramps ranch randy range ranks rants raped rapes rapid rarer rasps raspy rated rates ratio ratty raved raven raves rayon razed razor reach react reads ready realm reams reaps rearm rears rebar rebel rebus rebut recap recon recur recut redid reeds reedy reefs reeks reels refer refit regal rehab reign reins relax relay relic remit remix renal rends renew rents repay repel reply repot repro reran rerun reset resin rests retch retie retro retry reuse revel revue rheum rhino rhyme rider rides ridge riffs rifle rifts right rigid rigor riled riles rills rinds rings rinks rinse riots ripen riper risen riser rises risks risky rites ritzy rival riven river rives rivet riyal roach roads roams roars roast robes robin robot rocks rocky rodeo roger rogue roles rolls roman roofs rooks rooky rooms roomy roost roots roped ropes roses rosin rotor rouge rough round rouse roust route routs rover roves rowdy rowed rowel rower royal ruble ruddy ruder ruffs rugby ruing ruins ruled ruler rules rumba rumen rummy rumor rumps rungs runic runny runts runty rupee rural rusts rusty saber sable sacks sadly safer safes sagas sager sages saggy sails saint sakes salad sales sally salon salsa salts salty salve salvo samba sands sandy saner sappy saran saris sassy sated sates satin satyr sauce saucy sauna saute saved saver saves savor savoy savvy sawed saxes scabs scald scale scalp scaly scamp scams scans scant scare scarf scars scary scats scene scent schwa scion scoff scold scone scoop scoot scope score scorn scour scout scowl scows scram scrap scree screw scrip scrod scrub scrum scuba scuff scull scurf seals seams seamy seats sects sedan sedge seeds seedy seeks seems seeps seers segue seize sells semen semis sends senor sense sepia septa serfs serif serum serve servo setup seven sever sewed sewer sexed sexes shack shade shady shaft shags shake shaky shale shall shalt shame shams shank shape shard share shark sharp shave shawl sheaf shear sheds sheen sheep sheer sheet sheik shelf shell shied shier shies shift shill shine shins shiny ships shire shirk shirt shits shoal shoat shock shoed shoes shone shook shoot shops shore shorn short shots shout shove shown shows showy shred shrew shrub shrug shuck shuns shunt shush shuts shyly sided sides siege sieve sifts sighs sight sigil sigma signs silks silky sills silly silos since sinew singe sings sinks sinus sired siren sires sisal sissy sitar sited sites sixes sixth sixty sizes skate skeet skein skids skied skier skies skiff skill skimp skims skins skips skirl skirt skits skive skulk skull skunk slabs slack slade slain slake slams slang slant slaps slash slate slats slave slays sleds sleek sleep sleet slept slews slice slick slide slime slims slimy sling slink slips slits slobs slogs sloop slope slops slosh sloth slots slows slugs slump slums slung slunk slurp slurs slush sluts slyer slyly smack small smart smash smear smell smelt smile smirk smite smith smock smoke smoky smote snack snafu snags snail snake snaky snaps snare snarl sneak sneer snick snide sniff snipe snips snits snobs snood snoop snoot snore snort snots snout snows snowy snubs snuck snuff soaks soaps soapy soars soave sober socks sodas sofas softy soggy soils solar soles solid solos solve sonar songs sonic sooth sooty soppy sorer sores sorry sorts sough souls sound soups soupy sours souse south sowed sower space spade spall spank spans spare spark spars spasm spate spats spawn speak spear speck specs speed spell spelt spend spent sperm spews spice spick spics spicy spied spiel spies spiff spike spiky spill spilt spine spins spiny spire spite spits splat splay split spoil spoke spoof spook spool spoon spoor spore sport spots spout spray spree sprig sprit spuds spunk spurn spurs spurt squab squad squat squaw squib squid stabs stack staff stage stags stagy staid stain stair stake stale stalk stall stamp stand stank staph stare stark stars start stash state stats stave stays stead steak steal steam steed steel steep steer stein stele stems steno stent steps stern stews stick stiff stile still stilt sting stink stint stirs stoat stock stogy stoic stoke stole stoma stomp stone stony stood stool stoop stops store stork storm story stoup stout stove stows strap straw stray strep strew stria strip strop strum strut stubs stuck studs study stuff stump stung stunk stuns stunt style suave sucks sudsy suede sugar suing suite suits sulfa sulks sulky sully sumac sunny sunup super surer surfs surge surly sushi swabs swags swami swamp swank swans swaps sward swarm swart swash swath swats sways swear sweat sweep sweet swell swept swift swigs swill swims swine swing swipe swirl swish swoon swoop sword swore sworn swung synch syncs synod syrup tabby table taboo tacit tacks tacky tacos taffy tails taint taken taker takes tales talks talky tally talon talus tamed tamer tames tango tangs tangy tanks tansy taped taper tapes tapir tardy tarot tarps tarry tarts tasks taste tasty tatty taunt taupe tawny taxed taxes taxis teach teals teams tears teary tease teats techs teddy teems teens teeny teeth telex tells tempo temps tempt tends tenet tenon tenor tense tenth tents tepee tepid terms terns terra terse tests testy texts thane thank thaws theft their theme there these theta thick thief thigh thing think thins third thong thorn thorp those three threw throb throw thrum thuds thugs thumb thump thyme tiara tibia ticks tidal tides tiers tiger tight tikes tilde tiles tills tilts timed timer times timid tines tinge tings tinny tints tipsy tired tires titan tithe title tizzy toads toady toast today toddy togas toile toils tokay token tokes tolls tombs tomes tonal toned toner tones tonga tongs tonic tools tooth toots topaz toper topic toque torch torso torte torts torus total toted totem totes touch tough tours touts towed towel tower towns toxic toxin toyed trace track tract trade trail train trait tramp trams traps trash trawl trays tread treat treed trees treks trend tress triad trial tribe trice trick tried tries trill trims trine trios tripe trips trite troll tromp troop trope troth trots trout trove truce truck truer truly trump trunk truss trust truth tryst tsars tubal tubas tubby tuber tubes tucks tufts tulip tulle tumid tummy tumor tunas tuned tuner tunes tunic tunny turbo turfs turns tusks tutee tutor tutus tuxes twain twang twats tweak tweed tweet twerp twice twigs twill twine twins twirl twist twits twixt tying tykes typed types typos udder ulcer ulnae ultra umber umbra unapt uncap uncle uncut under undid undue unfed unfit unfix unhip unify union unite units unity unlit unman unmet unpin unsay unset unsex untie until unwed unzip upend upped upper upset urban urged urges urine usage users usher using usual usurp usury utile utter uvula vague vales valet valid valor value valve vamps vanes vapid vapor vases vasty vatic vault vaunt veers vegan veils veins velar velum venal venom vents venue venus verbs verge verse verso verve vests vexed vexes vials vibes vicar vices video views vigil vigor viler villa vines vinyl viola viper viral vireo virus visas visit visor vista vitae vital vitas vitro vivid vixen vocal vodka vogue voice voids voila 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worth would wound woven wrack wraps wrath wreak wreck wrens wrest wring wrist write writs wrong wrote wroth wrung wryly xenon xylem yacht yahoo yanks yappy yards yarns yawls yawns yearn years yeast yells yelps yenta yerba yeses yield yodel yogic yokel yokes yolks young yours youth yowls yucca yucky yummy zebra zeros zesty zilch zings zippy zloty zonal zoned zones zooms

Hi all, first real post here! I finally have gotten through 2 wears each of all but the scrubbers in my ELDO sampler, and wanted to share my notes and thoughts!
Overall, I find that the house leans very very sweet for my nose, and I shouldn't be surprised, when they have a whole gourmand section. I've enjoyed their scents for the most part, and found a lot that were extremely wearable, cheeky and fun.
The Standouts: You or Someone Like You, Rien, Cologne
The Calling Cards (if you want to know what ELDO is about): Fat Electrician, Jasmin et Cigarette
The Scrubbers: Fin du Monde, I am Trash, Hermann a Mes Cotes
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Scent	Hate/Love (1-5)	Fem/Masc (1-5)	Categorization	Dominant Notes	Notes	If I were naming it I'd call it	RIYL
Remarkable People	2	2	Amber, Floral	Amber, Peony, Vanilla	This smells like my ex girlfriend's peony perfume mixed with vanilla, but like 5 parts vanilla to 1 part peony. It's treacly, and I'm worried that ELdO just leans sweet. After about 30 minutes, I get the amber. I'm missing the wood and spice, but maybe its because it's so amber forward. Now, more than anything, I'm getting a perfume dupe of Baltic Amber by Voluspa, so if you're into this, boom, there's your <$25 dupe. Just be warned, it's really really sweet, and has pretty decent staying power and siliage, so you need to make sure it's a smell you and those around you are ready to accept.	Brown Tooth
Putain de Palais	2	1	Powder	Powder, Vanilla	So powdery and sweet and powdery and sweet. Like being punched in the face with a baby powder marshmallow. There is no hint of the "putain" on my skin. After hours (I mean, 12) of drydown, the skin scent remaining is pretty pleasant, maybe faint iris or some other floral, but my partner told me I still smelled like a stripper, so I will never wear this again.	Crazy Horse II
Jasmin et Cigarette	4	1	Floral, Smoke	Jasmine, Stale Cigarette	I definitely get why this is divisive. On first spray, I got the "ashtray" but also a punch of white flower. I have a yard full of magnolia, gardenia, jasmine, etc, and love the stink of white flowers, but I had a roommate once who couldn't describe what was happening but kept asking "is something rotten or burning or something" until we realized it was the jasmine vine. There's art and brilliance in realizing how linked these two scents are...they're permeating and can be offensive, or can be a little sexy or sweet. For me, this reminds me of the scent of a bygone vegas grand dame, like the Riveria or the Stardust. It smells like being teetering on sophisticated and stupid. I kind of fucking love it.	Lost Las Vegas
Archives 69	3	2	Floral	Camphor, Fruit	This is the first scent I tried from ELdO. I don't know that this will be my favorite of their collection or even something I'll pull out again, but it's a very nice introduction to a new perfumier. The first impression is not great -- the camphor smells like vapo-rub and the plum I guess reminded me of a candle store. With the exception of pink peppercorn, none of these notes are things I like or wear. And yet...I'm happy with it after 30 minutes, it's intentional and artistic. It's not an every day wear for sure; not for work, but for an outdoor event, an evening. The profile is not for everyone and I'd never want to wear in an enclosed space with others. It skews a little young and naive, but that's okay.	Sandra Dee
You or Someone Like You	5	1	Floral, Fresh	Freesia, Soap	This was the first ELdO that was love at first spray. It may be a slightly younger, sweeter version of typically look for, and although other testers say it smells like mojito, I don't get mint, and the citrus is very subdued. If anything, it's more floral + fresh + aquatic to me. It has a similar vibe to Acqua di Gio for women, but a little bit sweeter. Now that I am 25% of the way through my sampler, I can say with certainty that Etienne de Sward has more tolerance or preference for sweet smells than I do.	Country Garden	Acqua di Gio (Women)
Divin'Enfant	2	3	Gourmand	Vanilla, Spice	At first blast this is so god forsaken sweet. The description says marshmallow and I'm like YOP. It smells like spicy vanilla marshmallow, but as it mellows, I start to get more complexity. Let me be clear, I don't like this smell on me, but like, this is one of the first really unisex smells I've tried from ELdO -- I could see it and love it on a clean man who wears lilac shirts and keeps artful stubble, or on a woman who likes to keep it a little funkier? The scent gets a little powdery with leather or tobacco in the dry down and I can dig it. The initial impression is kind of awful but it's a pleasant wear. After an hour I'm way less grumpy at it on me too, but it's still too sweet. Also, the lasting power? Holy moly. Almost 24 hours later there's still a noticeable skin smell, but at least it's the gentle vanilla dry down.	Toffee Fingers
She Was an Anomaly	2	2	Floral, Fruit	Iris, Vanilla, Spice	The first spray was, I thought, deceptive. I got distinct cucumber, sharp citrus, and floral. It was not unpleasant, like a very expensive cucumber melon. Next I caught a whiff of light wood, beechy, though. As it dries down, the scent in true ELdO fashion, gets very sweet, a little bit vanilla/amber to me. From the description, I thought I would LOVE this scent. A woody floral sounds great, but maybe only if JC Ellena is doing them. There's a spicy undertone here that's a little masculine, and feels like this scent isn't for an anomalous woman, it's for a confused perfumier?	She Was Confused
Like This	3	1	Gourmand, Floral	Honey, Spice, Honeysuckle too?	This smells....french? It is a weird dupe for the Jean Paul Gaultier perfume that was the first "nice" perfume I ever had because my mom didn'tl ike it and I thought it smelled expensive. This is, sigh, like most of the ELdO line, treacly sweet to me, maybe moreso especially because it's supposed to be sweet. It is not unpleasant -- one thing I can say is that all of the fragrances are beautiful, but just not the right life beat/stage for me. The JPG was always a bit of an odd choice for my rough and tumble personality, so while I can say it has a nice ring of familiarity. I did learn after the fact that it's the Tilda Swinton scent and...I dunno I guess I'd expect something with a little more chutzpah for a character like her.	Expensive	JPG Classique
Eau de Protection	3	1	Floral, Citrus, Powder	Grapefruit, Rose, Powder	On first spritz, this is overwhelmingly citrusy, mostly grapefruit (I know it's meant to be bergamont, but I got grapefruit), but quickly the floral comes forward. It's mostly rose for the better part of the start, but on dry down it gets powdery and the geranium smells more like iris or violet to me? it's not unpleasant but I miss the prickly rose bomb that came at first blush and found it turn into a johnson's baby powder scent that leaves a lot to be desired after only about 90 minutes. I found it a little more forgiveable on second wearing, and it might layer well with something a little more exciting in the dry down.	Baby Mama
Fin du Monde	1	3	Gourmand, Musk	Musk Spice	This starts off a lot more sweet food and femme than it dries down. After 3-4 hours, its more masculine, like a fresh, spicy cologne. This is probably the least interesting/likely to be a re-use from ELdO for me. It is another one that kind of dupes another smell, but this is NOT something I would've owned so I can't place it. The popcorn, gunpowder? Not really, there's a little bit of powder and something masculine, but I don't clock the sandalwood, or anything except a kind of generic musk/orangey fresh combo in the end. Also, still very syrupy sweet.	Marmalade
Yes I do	3	1	Floral, Gourmand	Lily of the Valley, Honey	This is another non-transformative ELdO scent. The weird thing here is it reads simultaneously very young and old lady. The flower is overwhelmingly lily of the valley or snowdrops, sweet and white, and the first spray also has a blast of what they call marshmallow, but I smell as honey/vanilla again. And then, it persists. Unlike many of ELdO's other scents, this one lacks complexity and transformation. While the first note is pleasant, it's not a note that I need sustained and becomes treacly and headachey with prolonged exposure. The scent itself is rather strong and has decent siliage even an hour or so later, and so this went from "oh it's rather lovely" to "I feel like I'm sitting next to either a teenager or my grandmother who just bathed in this stuff on a sweaty busride" -- if you love the scent, I'd go for it, but the warts become pronounced over time for me. Also, after a shower(!) it still remains a skin scent, although a soapier and more pleasant version of itself. Whomever said these fragrances didn't last....	I LOVE YOU TO DEATH
I am Trash	1	1	Fruity	Apple	For just a split second, all I got was Light Blue by D&G, which was quickly eclipsed by green apple and an underlying unclockable "alcohol" smell. On dry down, it keeps to that apple shampoo smell. This is not a crabtree and evelyn, it's a suave or bath and body works type scent, so reads young. I love the idea, just don't love the execution. And it's really sweet, for a change. Update: my first scrubber, oh god I had to wash it off.	Appletini	D&G Light Blue
Rien	5	4	Woody, Leathery	Cedar	At first spray, I thought, whoa, is that vetiver? Is that sweat? And then the dry down started and I get sweet smelling cedar with a hint of funk or musk. This is a beautifully masculine unisex scent, and I think the wearer could play up or down the wood or sweetness. As it dries the woody smell gets drier and sweeter. I don't smell the leather they're referring to, I could see maybe a hint of wet, fresh tobacco, but overall I think this is actually lovely, a gentle hike in mossy woods. Who would've thunk. It does have that kind of "trying a bit hard" vibe, long corridors and high ceilings, and my partner thinks it smells like chemicals, but I think it smells like a picture of the outdoors.	Restoration Hardware	Hermes Jardin sur la Nil
Hermann a mes cotes	1	4	Fresh, Woody	Camphor, Orange	Before I sprayed, I thought "ooh I'm gonna really like this" and then I sprayed...and it is an oxy pad -- pure astringent smell, tea tree oil, camphor, alcohol and nothing else. Dry down is decidedly cologne, orange "fresh" with that continued bite of astringent. Very masculine, not unpleasant from far away. Dry down continues to get worse until it smells like being trapped in an elevator with a guy who thinks he's suave but he's not. Major siliage -- I used only 2 sprays, same as all other tries with ELdO but my partner was like "pee-yew!" from across the room, hours later. It doesn't smell the same, but it has a similar vibe to drakkar noir for me. Also, if you've ever been to the Cromwell in Las Vegas....this is the exact smell that kept me out of there for 3 years.	The Cromwell
Dangerous Complicity	2	2	Gourmand, Spicy	Vanilla	The spray was so light and bright and I was like ooh la la, and then that green and citrus smell disppeared behind a heavy curtain of musky ambery STRONG vanilla with a soapy finish. Gourmands are so TIRED. This feels so basic, it should come with a pumpkin spice latte.	Basic Bitch
Tom of Finland	3	3	Woody, Gourmand	Rubber, Tonka Bean	Initial scent is fresh with a little bit of rubbery tennis ball and a vanilla musk underneath. After a little bit, the tennis ball mellows into a more woody scent, but it's still sweet and rubbery, there may be a little tonka bean under there? Ultimately, it's neither extremely pleasing nor unpleasant. I actually had to rewear it because it doesn't have great staying power and I plum forgot pretty much anything about it except that it was "okay." So, for a frag named after an erotic art show, this is, sort of tame.	Racquetball	Wynn Las Vegas Toiletries
Une Amourette	4	1	Floral, Fresh	Camphor, White Flowers	This one was one of the first I tried on paper first, and is a great proof point for smelling these on skin instead of paper. On skin, this is camphor at first with a big underlying white flower, like a gardenia or magnolia, just divine, and the vaporub recedes as it dries down. I think it's supposed to be spicy but I don't get that at all from it. Siliage dies pretty fast, leaving a plesant floral skin scent with a little bite. The camphor lasted longer than it did on the other scents and feels a little medicinal, but It hink that's the point..	Nurse Ratched
Fat Electrician	3	3	Woody, Gourmand	Vetiver, Amber	It's hard to put your finger on this scent; the initial spray is a bit intense, and then it mellows to what is pretty clearly a vetiver / amber / vanilla scent. Around hour 3 Vetiver overtook everything and I thought I could really love this frag, but by hour 6 it's mostly sweet, probably too gourmandy for me, in the end it's just those sweet roasted nuts they sell on the street. I get why this is a calling card for the house; it captures a lot of what they do (odd but clever combinations, and sticky sweet unisexes), but may be a good example of why the majority of their scents don't work for me. Beautiful in its way, but not my style at all.	Sweet Nuts
Marquis de Sade	2	3	Woody, Leather?	Wood, Urine	The start of de Sade is divine....pure woody goodness like green fig or sitting in a cedar closet or a sauna, and then...the funk. The first of ELdO's frags where I actually experience the funk. At first, it was nice, maybe a little citrusy, but after 3 or 4 hours, it smells...like sour b.o. or pee? It takes what was a delightful frag and turns it into something I'd be uncomfortable wearing out.	Aftertaste
Cologne	5	3	Floral, Citrus	Bergamot, White Flower	Cologne always draws up the awful scent of whatever frags my dad liked to wear when I was a kid in the 80s...strong fresh, leathery, pungent scents that left me running from the bathroom. I left it til last because I was dreading it. This is...not that. There's fresh/citrus, but there's more floral and white flower than I would've ever expected, and the siliage is very personal and subtle. I find myself reaching for it often, my partner doesn't hate it. I think this is gorgeous.	Monk Sweat

Walnuts that drop before they ripen, green And bitter-soft, like envious lovers, Choke all the shaded sward the nut-tree covers And, pulped with spleen, Stain travelers’ hems too fastly brown to clean. Ah, well; If this be Hell, The Devil’s shrewd – there’s plenty left to sell.
An elder-bush weaves crowns of white flowers, thinking To flesh them with sweet fruit thereafter; In steals a boy – his shears cut short her laughter – Who, homeward slinking, Froths up a cordial that he dies in drinking. Ah, well; If this be Hell, The Devil’s shrewd – there’s plenty left to sell.
A Bird-o’-Paradise ate a red-juiced plum Bowing a branch toward Humber deeps And dropped the pit in Eden; there it sleeps, Clay-delved and dumb, Waiting a winter’s frost that’s yet to come. Ah, well; If this be Hell, The Devil’s shrewd – there’s plenty left to sell.
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EDIT: Took out a comma (l. 3); gutted line 9

Series 4 review here!
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Right. The penultimate season. Series 5. At this point, if you don't know this series' premise just check the last four - I'm ranking every Gumball episode ever. In my opinion the last 2 seasons have been genuine masterpieces in animation. Will series 5 live up to these high standards? Heh...heh...
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40. The Ex
Whelp, this is my least favourite of the show so far. I just cannot stand this one. Despite only remembering 2 occasions with Rob, Gumball is heartbroken when Rob leaves him, and Penny is forced to try and help him. Throughout the episode, Gumball is frustrating, Rob is boring and the ending is unsatisfying. This was the only Gumball episode so far that I’ve struggled to sit through for ten minutes. Banana Joe is funny but does little to save this one. I’m not a fan and I hardly even KNOW why i don't like it and that annoys me even MORE! 1/10
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39. The Diet
One word to sum this one up - ew. I’m honestly surprised they took this long to do a weight loss episode with Richard and the episode is honestly quite disgusting. How about, instead of a gross creature of the night running around the mall, Richard loses his weight at the beginning and it focuses on how it benefits his life, how Nicole feels, etc etc etc before reverting back for whatever reason. Seriously man, this could’ve been cool if it went in a different direction. 1.5/10
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38. The Stars
Someone on the writing team watched that one episode of black mirror and made a Gumball episode about it. This is extremely unfunny. The idea of Richard being bald doesn’t sit right with me either. Weak episode. Hipster Larry. 2/10
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37. The News
Well that was the most blatant budget cutting I’ve ever seen. Honestly, while I like the idea of this, it just wasn’t that interesting. I did like the exaggerated news intro – my fellow BBC news watchers will know the disappointment of the news after the intro – and the Daisy the Donkey part was actually hilarious. I’d rather have seen a whole 10 minutes of Daisy, they could’ve done something fun with that! This was obviously budget cuts – pretty much all the new characters were live action – I wonder if the main presenter (whose name I forget – wasn’t he a human before?) was made by the don’t hug me I’m scared team? 2/10
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36. The Guy
Bad episode. Anais tries to make a friend for the third time, and the boys act like such jerks that they scare him away. Then at the end, he decides to give Anais another chance before it’s revealed that he’s crazy, and Gumball gives a snarky remark. Bleh. 3/10
‘Make a wallet sound!’
‘WALLET.’
That made me laugh.
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35. The Outside
I usually really enjoy the family episodes, but this one wasn’t my cup of tea. I get that we’re not supposed to like Frankie, but we’ve seen him in what, one episode? And sure, he wasn’t exactly nice in said episode but I don’t think they did enough to make watching the family act poorly too him to be enjoyable. I hope Frankie gets more episodes – he’s like a competent Richard so an episode focusing on Frankie and Nicole would be cool but I very much doubt it. I don’t like this episode. Darwin was funny though. 3/10
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34. The Petals
Another episode that ended up as a meme – that weird ‘u have lost pp privileges’ one a few years ago. And yeesh, this episode is possibly the most horrifying visually in the entire show. I mean, as someone who loves it when Gumball goes into dark and horror themes, it just felt a bit pointless, almost as if it were looking for tumblr posts saying, ‘how is this made for kids?????’ It’s okay. Quite forgettable aside from Leslie’s…face. 5/10
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33. The Cycle
Not sure on this one. I absolutely despise the way Harold treats Richard – it does make The Point easier to watch though. I do really like the scene in which Richard accidentally shouts at the kids, accidentally letting them know what they mean to him, it was really sweet. Richard getting his own back at the end is really good too. 5/10
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32. The Boredom
Boring. How fitting! This one is basically ‘the boys are bored but they miss all the interesting stuff around them!’ I honestly have nothing to say about this one. It’s just so boring. 5/10
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31. The Catfish
It’s not b a d I guess…not great either. The boys catfish Louie, making him think he has a friend. It’s actually quite sad to be honest, Louie can’t even have friends because Jojo is overprotective. At least he seems happy? The Cat-Fish joke was also great. Honestly surprised they hadn’t thought of it before. This episode feels like they made a whole episode based off of that pun. 5.5/10
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30. The Stories
For being the series’ first original plot, this is surprisingly forgettable. Molly (I had to google her name) isn’t all too great for having an episode. I can kinda see why she went into the void. Meh. 5.5/10
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29. The Vision
Jeez. This was the fourth episode in a row that I didn’t like. This is he best of the four though. Alan being a dictator is a fun idea, but this episode fails to really go anywhere is it. The highlight is definitely Alan’s video. But MEH 6/10
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28. The Potato
The episode itself is yet another dull one from series 5, although Idaho becoming perfectly prepared whilst walking to the Watterson’s house was quite funny. Sarah seems to be getting more appearances in this series, almost like a third protagonist (Like Anais in series 2-3). This episode isn’t anything special in my opinion. 6/10
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27. The Sorcerer
A magic episode which turned out to be about internet trolls halfway through. God, so much of this season is ‘meh.’ I’ll talk more about it later but that’s what this episode is. Just ‘meh.’ 6/10
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26. The Loophole
Man, I’m sorry but all these Bobert episodes feel really same-y to me and none of them are that interesting. I did like how Gumball was knocked into the earlier episode. I’m not sure which one, I just remember there was a Robin Hood Gumball. But yeah, forgettable one for me. 6/10
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25. The Best
Hey, it’s the episode with that one meme that was big a month ago! This one’s alright. I like the commentary on SJWs, it makes for some funny jokes, but the rest of the episode isn’t too interesting to me and the ending is naff. 6/10
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24. The Line
This one seems to be joking about the Star Wars films that released around this time – a series I have no interest in so this episode was somewhat lost on me. Anyway, this was pretty average. The family try to get to the front of the queue. I must say, this series seems to have a lot of family episodes – not at all a complaint however! 6/10
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23. The Ollie
This one’s an average one. It was obviously just made for the animation change, and while that is the highlight of the episode, it’s not as good as countless other animation changes in the show in my opinion. Also, you give the boys a skater outfit just for it to disappear in the animation change? You had one job! I did like Darwin’s skateboard though. 6/10
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22. The Code
Weird. As I write this we’re 7 episodes into this series, and 2 episodes have been masterpieces while 5 have been bang average. This one’s okay, it’s not great until the animation change, and after that it’s good for the last minute. But yeah, another average episode that’s very hard to say anything about. 6.5/10
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21. The Grades
It’s okay. Gumball studying was funny, he was very series 1 like in this episode. What irked me however is the American school system. Gumball’s in 8th grade, right? So the last year of middle school? So how is there a) as year above him with Anais and Clare and b) What the bloody hell is a Junior high? This is honest confusion, please help me. 6.5/10
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20. The Slide
ROCKY EPISODE! ROCKY EPISODE! ROCKY EPISODE! This is quite blatantly about Tinder, with Rocky looking to find a girl he fell in love with on the escalators. I feel like the ending is a way in which the writers criticised Tinder – as catfishing can be a problem. This was a decently funny episode. (Also, listen to Rocky saying ‘Well, slide it back!’ at 7:47 in this episode. He completely loses his American accent) 6.5/10
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19. The Menu
Gumball and Darwin help their dad eat every burger in order to get a secret menu item. I actually liked this one, at least up until the last few minutes. The commentary on the fast-food industry is really quite funny and the cutaway of the boys becoming fast food CEOs was very funny. Unfortunately, the episode is ruined by the end. Sward was extremely disgusting. 7/10
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18. The Uncle
‘GUMBALL made an episode about MARIO?! (NOT CLICKBAIT)’ yes I’m making this joke every time one of those episodes come up. It’s a standard story with an EJH student – something that has been in decline lately. The references to Mario are fun, and the ‘Friendship ended with Darwin’ meme, while certainly a low hanging fruit, made me chuckle. The song’s okay, I guess. I do feel like a kebab now, though. 7/10
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17. The Nuisance
That’s weird. In my notes there’s an episode called ‘The Nuisance,’ but all I can find online is an episode called ‘Cartoon Network show SLAMS Trump in new episode.’ Honestly though, clickbait news articles aside, this isn’t actually too tough on Trump. Shocker. There’s literally just one character who looks a bit like Trump and has 2 minutes of screen time. The episode itself is ok. The ‘we’re becoming model citizens!’ part is obviously the highlight – the happy music being played while the Wattersons scream in agony is honestly great. And can I just say I actually quite like the family’s designs? They all look more or less how I imagined them. (Except for Darwin, who I reckon was probably used as a jab at something else that I won’t get into on the Gumball subreddit.) The ending is a bit ‘meh’ though. I feel like they just needed an ending for the Trump episode and shoehorned in something that fit. Still, it’s absolutely criminal that Darwin never got a human iteration. 7/10
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16. The Box
This episode features a genuinely bad Gumball segment, a genuinely hilarious Nicole segment, A genuinely ‘meh’ Anais segment, A genuinely funny Richard segment and no Darwin segment. It has some very high and very low points – Nicole smiling while her life is in danger because she’s a millionaire is great. 7/10
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15. The Weirdo
At first I was surprised they hadn’t done a Sussie episode, until I remembered that an episode on an upside down head would be a tad hard. I actually quite liked this one! I wasn’t amazed by it or anything, the first song was a little bit gross, but it’s a fun episode that has one of the best animation changes in the show, beaten only by The Fury and The Kids. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a fun one that’s definitely worth a watch. (Also, I’m not sure if it’s because she’s speaking full sentences but Sussie’s voice sounds quite different here) 7.5/10
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14. The Worst
This is one that everyone hates! Series 5 REALLY loves these ‘family telling their own story except Darwin who just gets lumped in with Gumball’ episodes. I quite enjoyed it, however. Sure, it could’ve done without man Nicole for half the episode and it felt very preachy but I just enjoyed this one. There’s not really any specific reason why to be honest, I just liked it. Also, the joystick joke was brilliant. 7.5/10
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13. The Singing
Ah, the singing. For many, the songs are the best part of Gumball so I’m surprised they haven’t done more of these. Personally I love the intro – Maybe because I’m a sucker for the first-person scenes in this programme – and Billy’s rap is great. The rest are okay, I didn’t really feel much excitement over any others. Also, how far away is the rubbish dump? Nicole seemed to be driving for hours! 7.5/10
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12. The List
This is a sweet one. Sure, Nicole is a lot more mellow and…not tech savvy, and that Google Earth segment was blatant cost cutting, but it’s sweet. Not a bad episode by any means. I think the worst part of this episode was skipping out the part in which the boys took Chad Johnson to the prom. That would’ve been great. 7.5/10
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11. The Puppets
I remember this one being hyped up for YEARS…and then there was about 3 minutes of actual Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared style stuff. This isn’t a bad episode by any means. I used to be super into DHMIS, and it’s super cool that the creators did an episode with Gumball. Unfortunately, the puppet section, as awesome as the puppets are, kinda feels like a watered down DHMIS. Obviously the gore from those videos won’t be in Gumball, but I’m not sure how to feel about this one. I’d even go as far to say it’s my least favourite finale since series 1. I realise I’m being a bit negative – I actually really enjoyed this episode! It’s just not as good as it could be. 8/10
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10. The Test
First of all, I have no idea where the episode name came from. What test? Second of all, this feels like a better version of The Robot. I also know I really liked this episode. The tongue-in-cheek sitcom stuff is honestly hilarious, and now I want a full episode as a sitcom in this manner. I don’t care for the whole ‘Gumballl bottling up his loserness’ thing – the first 4 minutes and the disgusting Gumball are honestly hard to watch. But a funny episode. A funny episode indeed. 8/10
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9. The Matchmaker
I like this one – it’s nice to FINALLY get an episode on Carrie and Darwin. Darwin’s an arse in this one, sure, but it’s the good type of arse. He’s not doing anything for self gain, he genuinely is trying to help but doesn’t realise he’s being a bit thick. I like this episode! And it’s kinda cool to see Rachel get a mention. 8/10
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8. The Heist
This one’s great. It’s funny throughout, and the different ideas on how to reverse heist is hilarious. Series 5 seems to really like making money jokes about Nicole, and I actually find it quite funny. Good one. 8.5/10
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7. The Vase
This is a fun one! It’s fun to see all the ways in which they try to break the vase. Nicole seemed to go a bit above and beyond for a vase despite clearly despising Granny Jojo, but I digress. Anais has really started to grow on me in this watchalong, I never really cared for her but she’s a fun character. I think I preferred her voice actors voice in the first two seasons however, it fit her character a lot better imo. 8.5/10
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6. The Fuss
I really enjoyed this. I feel like this is the first real instance of Nicole lessening her anger, being more of a classic mum than a helldemon. Many hate this change, and understandably so, but I think it’s supposed to be a transition from The Choices. In The Choices, Nicole is about to go mad before stopping and loving her family. Perhaps the late Nicole personality change is supposed to reflect this…Unless the writers just messed up and I’m talking out of my arse. I actually really enjoyes the episode, it’s funny and sweet. Very good. Nicolas Cantu and Donielle Hansley are also much better here, it’s as if they got used to the characters at this point. 9/10
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5. The Copycats
Ahh, another ‘Gumball EXPOSES Chinese Rip-Off!’ episode. The whole idea of this is brilliant. When I was first watching the programme, I remember seeing Miracle Star on some YouTube video, and when I heard this came out I was amazed. I particularly liked when the creators completely defaced the Miracle Star cast, making them into ugly monsters. Making Anais save the day was also a nice touch, this episode is just a great bit of fun, and a great send off for Jacob Hopkins and Terrel Ransom Jr. I absolutely loved their voice work, but you could tell, particularly in the last few episodes, their voices were really getting deep. As for this episode, 9.5/10.
(Does anyone know if anyone who worked on Miracle Star ever commented on this episode? I’d love to know)
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4. The Console
I love this one. It’s honestly got some of the funniest writing in the show, I particularly love Mr. Robinson’s house and the Penny encounter. I’m not even big on JRPGs but this episode is just so fucking funny. 9.5/10
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3. The Deal
Weird. Nicole gets employee of the month one episode after they make a big deal of her not getting it. Anyway, I absolutely love this episode. It shows how Richard actually has some worth in the family other than being a slob, and the way in which he looks after them is genuinely hilarious. Not to mention the song, it may just be my favourite song in the entire series. Absolutely brilliant. I’m shocked I’ve heard almost no fanfare for this episode before, am in the minority here? 9.5/10
‘Dad, where’s the pumpkin?’
‘She left me for the butternut squash’
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2. The Rerun (Part 2)
Here we are, what many call Gumball’s magnum opus. And fair enough. It’s extremely good. It’s funny, interesting and amazing throughout. I loved seeing Nicole and Richard get young, Anais’ floating head was strangely funny and the entire concept of going through an episode again is novel, and I love it. Although maybe it was worth Gumball leaving Rob in the abyss, as it wouldn’t have led to another episode later on…I love this episode, but it’s not my favourite – there’s a few I still prefer but still, what a masterpiece. 10/10
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1. The Choices
Incredible. One of the funniest episodes, THE sweetest episode, and certainly one of the best. I love whenever the time is changed in Elmore and seeing all the parents as kids is wicked. I especially love when Gumball turns dark, so the banana Bob and Mr. Wilson segments are absolutely hilarious to me. And the montage at the end is quality. Amazing. Mwah. Beautiful. 10/10
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Whelp, that's series 5 for you. And my god what a mixed bag. It still has those absolutely amazing episodes - some of the best in the show - but there seems to be a lot more misses than the last couple of series. Obviously it's ridiculous to expect the highs of s3 and s4 from every episode, it's just surprising how quickly it dropped off. There seems to be a lot more episodesparodying media or world events, and while I'm a fan of these episodes and think they have merit, they can also bring an episode down by feeling shoehorned in (such as The Worst)
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This series had a higher focus on Nicole and Richard, who feel a lot more present than they did in previous series - is this true or am I going mad? Who knows! And EJH feels a bit smaller, with only Tobias, Ocho, Carrie and Sarah really getting the spotlight as opposed to earlier series which were much more balanced in the characters. Granted, Carrie and Tobias are amongst my favourites but it's just interesting how characters move to the back over time. (I'm looking at you, Tina)
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Also, the Elephant in the room - the voice actors. While I definitely prefer Hopkins and Ransom Jr, Cantu and Hansley Jr do a good job. (Is it like, a requirement for the Darwin actor to be a Jr?) I do think Donielle is a bit squeaky at times, but throughout the first few episodes he seemed to improve. They’re worthy for the characters, although it is more jarring now than it was the first time around, and I’m honestly not sure why. Also, I hate to be mean but Donielle’s voice is really suffering in some episodes, the Petals in particular. I genuinely had trouble hearing what he was saying.
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Apologies for the negativity. At the end of the day, it's still Gumball. If this series was a standalone thing I'd probably like it even more! I just personally prefer seasons 2,3 and 4 to this one. However, The Choices is still a masterpiece, and some episodes are the funniest I've ever seen. I'm looking forward to series 6, I'm sure it will be the best series yet! ^hahaha...

First
Previous
“Yustradil, you need to come!” I shouted as I burst into the hall of the kobolds. I was dishevelled from running and hopefully seemed adequately desperate and in a hurry. “Calcryx is... the goblins keep her as a hostage, and they are planning to kill her soon! You have to help us; we cannot free her alone!”
The kobolds were stunned for a moment, then started buzzing like an angry beehive. Yustradil's shout cut over the noise. She was panicking hard.
“Right! Of course!” then she started to shout in her language, and four of the better-armed kobolds started on her track as she ran towards me. Just four? I thought in annoyance. Well, we will have to make do with that much, I guess.
“Lead the way!” Yustradil shouted, and I obeyed.
I took them to the well, and we climbed down to the level where my other companions have waited. We have run through deserted corridors and chambers we cleared out in a bloody fight. I have led them on and on, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the maze. At last, we arrived at the room where we found the books last night. I opened the door, ready to fight, but there was only another corridor behind, so I ran forward.
I was expecting resistance every moment now, but instead, we came upon stairs, running down, then running up again, panting from the exertion. And still the corridor went on, and I was getting worried that the kobolds might see through my lies before we have seen any goblins, but then, at last, I have seen two doors. I tried to open the first one, but it would not give way, so I tore at the second in panic, and to my relief, it flew open. I rushed in, the kobolds in my trace, Beldrak, Jim and Erky inconspicuously staying behind.
Three arrows flew at me at the moment when I barged in, but they all sprang down harmlessly from my mail. Six goblins were standing before us, surprised but ready for battle, three armed with bows, and three other with small swords. They came at us, and the kobolds, who were even smaller and weaker than our enemies, fell one by one. I cut down a goblin, then saw movement on my left, and brought up my shield just in time to deflect a blow from a moving bush that appeared from the darkness. A door sprang open on my right, three other goblins streamed out, and two more bushes moved on my left. Then there was a roaring of fire, the hands of Yustradil spitting flame, and the bushes were gone, then she was chanting again, I desperately held the goblins at bay, and suddenly they were gone too, their charred bodies hitting the ground at my feet.
“Nice work,” I said. “Now we have to go this way...”
“Enough!” shouted Yustradil. “Where is Calcryx?”
“That's where I am leading you, if you come with me just a little longer...”
“I won't go anywhere until I see Calcryx!” the kobold's nostrils were flaring. “What kind of fool do you take me for? I will wait outside, on the corridor! Bring my dragon here, and soon, or you will face dire consequences!”
“As you wish,” I spit mockingly, not hiding my scorn anymore. “Wait here if you are too much of a coward to finish a job you started.”
“I would think,” it hissed in a threatening voice “that we are paying you to get this job done. We have bled enough on your behalf now.” It stormed out on the door whence we came from, its only surviving guard behind it.
“Well, you have done it now,” said Jim disapprovingly. “How will you talk yourself out from that?”
“I am done talking with kobolds,” I snarled, my blood still boiling from anger. I considered killing Yustradil there and then, but I did not want Erky to see my treachery, lest he decides to desert us before we faced the Outcast. “Let us go,” I said instead, and we went into the room where the last three goblins came from.
This was a study with books and some other valuables scattered around, but nothing dangerous sprang at us, so we left looting the room for later, and went back to the bigger chamber.
This wasn't so much a room, but a gigantic cave, stretching out in a southern direction. We were at the northern tip, where the ground was bare, but not far from us bushes and trees grew in the unhealthy light of the luminous lichen. This must have been the Grove of Twilight.
We went into the grove in a skirmish line so we could cover the whole width of the cave, but we could still aid each other. This proved to be a very effective strategy in flushing out the moving bushes; we didn't leave out a single one of them. Either they attacked one of us, or we spotted them in time, but either way they perished. Luck, or stupidity of the enemy, was still on our side, and the bushes attacked in ones and twos instead of massing together, and overwhelming us with their numbers.
In less than a half-hour, we spotted the southern wall of the cave. A giant tree stood before it, old, withered and rugged, with barely any leaves on it. There was no wind in the cave, yet the branches of the tree were still moving.
“Don't tell me that big one can move as well,” I muttered.
We pulled together instinctively, abandoning our skirmisher line, so Beldrak heard me, and answered.
“In all likelihood, it can. I would guess the small ones are its branches.”
“And what a fine guess!” a tall and scrawny man stepped from the shadow of the tree. His head was little more than a skull, like he was in the final stage of starvation. But otherwise, he did not seem weak, his posture was self-assured, and his green eyes glowed with a fiery determination. “You arrive just as I expected.”
“I assume you are the one whom the kobolds call the Outcast,” said Jim.
“Your assumption is correct! However, I prefer to be called Belak.”
“The man does not seem very disturbed by the fact that we massacred all its minions,” I said to Beldrak.
“I would say that's because he is completely bonkers.”
“What a rude thing to say about your host, and soon to be employer!” the Outcast exclaimed jovially. “But sadly I am not unfamiliar with the accusation. This was the reasoning of my peers as well when they exiled me from the Circle.”
“We are curious folks,” I admitted. “So it is a welcome thing that you are willing to chat with us. We do have some questions. But first we would like to negotiate the release of your prisoners.”
“Oh! But I don't have any prisoners.” He gestured, and two other figures stepped out from behind the big tree, a woman and a big brute of a man. I could not see their faces, but their figure matched the descriptions of Sharwin Hucrele and Sir Braford. Talgen Hucrele was nowhere to be seen. “These fine people are helping me from their own will.”
“Tough luck, we are taking them anyway,” I announced. “You will persuade them to come with us.”
“Oh! And why would I do such a thing?”
“Because if you don't, I will stick my sword up into your arse, obviously.” That was more of a thing that Publius Decius Mus, the proud Roman noble would have said, not Arnold, the smooth-talking conniving schemer, but I was past caring. The man was completely out of it as Beldrak said, and I saw no other way than killing the bastard right then and there.
“And again I am being unreasonably threatened! Here I am, trying my best to save the world...”
“We don't have time for that,” smiled Beldrak apologetically. “Tell us more about the tree, please. Is it the one that is making the healing apples?”
“Oh, right, the apples! The literal fruits of my diligent research! This tree is an untapped source of power, and I shepherded it, pruned it, tended to it. It grew out from a stake that was hammered into the heart of a powerful vampire. And now all the lifeforce, all the beautiful magic...”
“So it had nothing to do with the dragon-cult. How disappointing.” I was feeling cheated. The mystery of the fortress and the mystery of the apples were unrelated after all.
“And the moving bushes?” asked Beldrak.
“Ah! My tree blights!” The man showed no sign of annoyance with our continuous interruptions; he gladly raved on. “They grow from the seeds of the apples! That's why I instructed the goblins to give the apples to humans, to trade with them and...”
“So these were the lumberjack-killers,” said Jim sourly. “And I thought a rapier caused the wounds...” This place turned out to be a disappointment for all of us.
“Well, if you ask me, the lumberjacks only got what they deserved. Cutting down trees, what a barbaric act. That's why I let you kill my goblins too. They were useful little fellows, but I just could not get them to respect the woods properly. But you, my friends, will be different. Surely you agree with me after seeing my beautiful underground gardens, after experiencing the variety of life and nature, after...”
We did not have any more questions, so this seemed as good opportunity as any to dispatch the raving lunatic. Alas, he was surprisingly alert and dodged the javelin I hurled at him.
To my displeasure, the man did not only dodge my javelin but also had time to cast a spell on me. Suddenly the ground came alive around me as tendrils sprouted from it, and twisted around my arms and legs. Jim had his hands full with two moving bushes that sneaked up on him, probably waiting for this very moment, and Erky Timbers was put to sleep by Sharwin Hucrele. Then a donkey-sized toad jumped down from the evil magical tree, and suggestively gaped at me. Things were beginning to assume a decidedly pear-shaped form.
Luckily, my companions had nerves of steel. A moving bush and sir Braford with a long sword were hacking at Beldrak, wounding him on his arm and abdomen but he somehow still managed to finish his chanting, and torched the magical tree.
The moving bush attacking the wizard stopped, and Sir Braford stopped too. The big man turned away from Beldrak and charged at the Outcast. The scrawny man froze in indicision, and at the next moment the brute was on him, hacking wildly with his massive sword.
The wounded Belak screamed in a blood-curdling voice, but an even more chilling sound stifled his voice. Jim has beaten back the two moving bushes taking stabs at him, and using the moment he bought for himself, he threw away his shield, and called to the heavens with his hand. His eyes were closed, his mouth opened, and a frightful roar reverberated in the giant cave.
The shadows deepened around the tiefling, and when he opened his eyes, they were crimson instead of the usual pitch-black. The moving bushes had no eyes and no ears, but somehow the sight and sound still frightened them, and they were retreating from Jim's ire. Sir Braford was running too, only the Outcast, and Sharwin Hucrele stood their ground.
The giant toad did neither. It attacked instead.
The beast was aiming to land near the sleeping Erky Timbers. Then no doubt it intended to devour him. The jump was misjudged though. The monster landed on its head in the middle of the tendrils that were summoned by the Outcast. It lay stunned only a few feet away from me, right when I was able to free myself at last, and with a battle-cry I was suddenly over it, hacking frantically at its head and torso.
For a few moments, it seemed that we were doomed, but my comrades successfully turned the tide of the battle. The Outcast started to prepare a new spell, but he couldn't finish chanting, because one of the moving bushes running from Jim stabbed him on the arm. But Beldrak was free from attackers, finished his spell, and shot it at the Outcast. The man was now bleeding from multiple wounds, his clothes burning, then Jim came up fast behind the fleeing bushes and finished him off.
Sharvin Hucrele vanished, the moving bushes were methodically torched, I killed the giant toad, but sir Braford appeared on the battlefield again. He somehow overcame the fear that Jim awakened in him, and now he was walking menacingly towards us, his massive sword ready to strike. Then I finally saw his face, and there was no battle-joy, no hate, no viciousness on that face. It was sad, and the eyes were like that of a dead man. Seeing that, my bloodthirst was quelled.
I sheathed my sword and spread my palms out towards sir Braford. I cried in a pleading voice.
“Sir Braford, we have come to save you! We have come here to free you from the captivity of the goblins. Do not force us to kill you! Let us take you back in peace!”
The man looked at me, at first without comprehension, then his face slowly contorted into an expression of grief. The sword fell from his hand, and he was weeping then, kneeling on the ground and burying his face into his palms.
Jim was scanning the bushes on our right to see if any of the moving ones remained, and trying to find Sharvin Hucrele without luck. So I walked up there and repeated my pleading. I hoped to rip the woman too out of the madness that must have been induced by the Outcast.
“Lady Hucrele! Your aunt sent us to rescue you! Kerowyn Hucrele is worried about you and your brother! Stop hiding from us, come out so we can help you!”
Suddenly the woman appeared from thin air, and she was kneeling on the ground, weeping too. I picked her up and carried where the already awake Erky Timbers treated sir Braford.
“Will he live? What's wrong with him?”
“I wish I knew,” Erky was shaking his head. “I will do what I can.”
“See that you do,” I clapped at his shoulder and gestured Jim and Beldrak to come. I didn't want Erky to see what was coming.
“Beldrak you still have the dragon's skull?” I asked.
“Sure,” said the wizard. Yesterday he spent a few hours of our rest cutting out the valuable bits from Calcryx, and meticulously packing them away.
“Can I have it?”
“It's on the bottom. Wait a minute, will you?”
He fetched his rucksack from where he left it before the fight, and soon I held the severed head in my hand, packed tightly into a bloody rag. I peeled the cloth away and kept the skull.
“What do you need it for?” asked Jim.
“You will see.”
We walked back to the corridor from whence we entered this cave. Yustradil and its one remaining guard were waiting for us.
“Where is Calcryx?” the kobold hissed at me when it saw me.
The best course of action would have been to hurl a javelin at the nubbin without a word. But I wanted the Kobolds to draw blood first. So I threw the severed head of the dragon to the kobold's feet.
“I killed Calcryx because it was a beast. A feral monster that would have killed us, and even you eventually.”
BANGG. The door slammed shut as Jim called forth his usual spell, and the tiefling was looking at me, visibly shaken.
“What are you doing you idiot?! Why have you told her?”
“It would have found out. If we have to fight, it's better now, when it has no help from the other kobolds.”
If Yustradil swallows its pride and anger, we will just walk away, I thought. But I don't think it will. I started to open the door.
“Don't!” shrieked Jim. “You fool...”
The corridor was suddenly alight with orange flames stemming from the spread-out arms of Yustradil, and I was on the ground again, screaming from the pain, my face and my hand burnt, my armour unbearably hot. Then I passed out.
“You are the stupidest man I have ever met,” Jim said to me when I opened my eyes. “Why did you have to do this? They were our friends. They gave as shelter, and they even fought with us.”
My thoughts were still slow, and my tongue barely obeyed me.
“Have we... won?” I asked.
“We are certainly still alive, but I think we have lost the kobolds forever.”
“We lost them... when we... killed Calcryx. Is... Yustradil dead?”
“Beldrak put them to sleep. We can decide what to do later...”
I shook my head. By Jove, I was thirsty!
“Drink...,” I whispered, as I stood up.
“Here,” Jim gave me his waterskin. “Yours is done for; the fire ruined it.”
I drank deep, then walked out to the corridor. Beldrak was binding the remaining kobold warrior and Yustradil. It was the easiest thing to walk up to them, and stab the sleeping figures through the throat.
“What the...” Jim stared at me incredulously, and even Beldrak seemed nauseated.
“We could have exchanged them...”
“They would have turned on us right after that. And Yustradil was too dangerous. To keep it prisoner, we should have watched it day and night, or it could have used its lesser spells to cause mischief.”
Jim turned around and left without a word.
“Well, it seems the fire ruined most of my pouches,” I said to Beldrak. Thankfully the one that had the myrtle berries is miraculously untouched.
“What of it?”
“I will have to sew some pockets onto my clothes,” I mused. “Those are convenient things anyway. And since we are already here, we could also search for coins to stuff into them.”
Beldrak grinned at last. “You have the right of it, boy.”
We looted the place, I, despite my still hurting injuries somewhat giddily, Beldrak methodically, and Jim sulked.
“There was no need murdering her. Aren't you always the one who wants to talk his way out of fights? And even if you don't find a problem with murdering prisoners, they could have been very useful to us! You know, I wanted to learn Draconic from Meepo at least!” he said at last. “Now there is hardly a chance he will come with us when we leave.”
“What a coincidence, I also want to learn Draconic,” I answered. Dragons seemed to be an important force in this world. “I think Erky will be a splendid teacher.”
“He speaks with an accent!”
“The point is that he speaks at all.”
Jim turned away with a disgusted expression again.
By now they already stripped the room at the northern wall of the cave of valuables. We netted a few hundred coins again, mostly silver, but some gold as well. We found no magical apple, though.
“Then it's time we got going,” I put on the backpack I bought in Oakhurst. “If Erky asks, Yustradil attacked first.”
“She did attack us first,” answered Beldrak. “We will just have to leave out the part where you threw the head of their precious dragon at them.”
Erky was still with the Sharwin Hucrele and sir Braford. The little man was earnest and sad.
“I have done what I could, but it's far from enough. There is a curse on them which I can't dispel. They are both dying.”
“Surely not,” I said. “There is a priest in Oakhurst who has even stronger healing powers than you, isn't that right? If we hurry, we can be back in the village by nightfall.”
“What should we tell the Kobolds?” whispered Jim to me.
“I will handle that,” I answered.
“We got into the whole mess in the first place because we let you handle our negotiations...”He is not wrong.
I scooped up Sharwin Hucrele and left my companions to deal with sir Braford. The magic of this world was something amazing. Back home, assuming I would have survived my grievous injuries at all, I would have to lie in bed for months with them. And even after that, I would have been weak as a kitten. Here it took less than an hour, and I was up and running again, carrying a grown woman even though I was already clad in heavy armour.
We left the cavern, Jim supporting sir Braford, while Erky and Beldrak carried our packs and everything we pilfered down here. Erky gasped when he saw the dead kobolds. It was not a pretty sight.
“Those are...”
“It was self-defence,” I assured him. “They tried to kill me.”
“But why?”
“You were the one who found out that they were planning to betray us in the first place. You shouldn't be all that surprised.”
“But...”
“I understand your pain, I had no desire to kill them either,” I lied through my teeth. “But it was them or us. Thankfully she couldn't have the time to give order the other Kobolds to turn against us. Let me speak with them so that we can pass through their territory peacefully.”
Erky stayed quiet, but he shot me a very suspicious look. So much about not losing his trust.
The conversation with the kobolds on the upper level proved to be easy, as I expected. The stupid little beasts swallowed my lies easily, and believed me that the goblins slew Yustradil. I suspected that sooner or later they will find out the truth, but for now, they let us go unmolested with the two prisoners we rescued.
The journey back to Oakhurst was long and arduous. Even though a floating disk conjured by Beldrak now carried sir Braford, we were still slowed down, and it was already dark when we arrived in the village.
“Who goes there?” a post stopped us before the line of the houses.
“Derham, don't you remember? It is me; we were drinking together the other day. I played dice with Sergeant Irwin.”
“Of course, that Arnold fellow. Indeed it is you.”
“And we have brought back Sharwin Hucrele.”
“The young lady! By the gods, it is true!” the guard exclaimed as his torch lit the face of the woman. “Go ahead then!”
We took our proteges to the temple of Adaron, where Erky's superior took them into her care. She was not hopeful.
“That is a powerful curse... I might not be able to lift it...”
While Erky showed us out to let the priestess work in peace, I mused aloud.
“Maybe a magical apple could cure them.”
“Maybe,” Beldrak agreed. “But leave that for tomorrow. Tonight, I am going to get drunk.”
“Well said,” Jim answered. “Lead the way master Trueanvil.”
On that note they left for the tavern. I was planning to join them, and soon, but there were still some people I needed to talk first. I walked to the town hall, and informed the mayor and Captain Felosial of the moving trees of the Outcast.
“You never found the murderers because you were searching for animals or people. But they were these bushes all along hiding in plain sight.”
“How do you suggest we deal with them?” asked the mayor, pale after my tale about the murdering bushes.
“Fire and axes will do the trick just fine,” mused Captain Felosial. “We will move in groups of five, and simply cut down every bush we come along. It will take a while.”
“I think that is a good plan. Also, your men should wear some armour. This mail protected me well, but you have seen yourself what those bushes can do to an unprotected human body.”
“I will take your advice to heart,” said the captain. “It seems that my instincts were lying to me this time. I suspected you would be villains, but turned out to be heroes.”
“Well, I wouldn't go that far,” I said, thinking back on my lies, schemes and murders. “We are villains all right. But your villains.”
“Be as it may, we are thankful,” said the mayor. “And I am sure the Lady Hucrele is even more thankful that you brought back her niece.”
“We never found her nephew though,” I said grimly. “Only his mail and ring. I shall talk to her. Do you know if I find her in her mansion?”
“No, she went to the church to see her niece right after she got the news. I saw her from the window.”
“We must have missed each other then.”
I took my leave and walked back to the church whence I came from. The lady was there, as the captain said, she was sitting at the bedside of her niece, clutching at her hands, and crying. When she saw me, she got up and gestured me to go over to another room.
“She is dying,” the lady sad in a flat voice. “So is the troublemaker.”
“The priestess can do nothing?”
“Nackle is the very best healer in a hundred miles. And she says her powers are insufficient.”
“I am so sorry, my lady.” And this time, I meant it. Somehow all the monsters and beasts I had the misfortune to meet in the last few days have forged a bond between me and the rest of humanity. Back in Italia there were no monsters, and no talking beasts, only humans, so I felt little kinship with a Greek or a Samnite. But in this dangerous, foreign world I couldn't help but care more about other humans.
And also, the way the lady sat at her niece's bed awoke memories in me. I have been there where she was, helpless and hopeless, and I knew exactly how it felt.
Maybe one of the apples could help. But I did not say it out aloud. I did not want to give the lady false hope. We haven't found a healing apple among the Outcast's belongings, and Beldrak torched the tree that was creating the fruits. True, we haven't had the time to examine all of Belak's rooms thoroughly, and the Grove of Twilight was enormous. The chances that the Outcast had hidden an apple somewhere, were slim. He was giving out the healing fruits so they could spread their cursed seeds.
“Has she said anything about her brother?” I asked, instead. We have never seen his corpse. And there were some rooms which we haven't visited yet, and which could be used as a prison.
“Dead,” Lady Hucrele answered flatly.
I stayed silent.
“Still, I am grateful that you brought back my niece. At least she can die in peace. I do not have any money on me, but I will send my manservant to you with your payment first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Will you stay in the village for a time?”
“Just for the night. We still have some unfinished business in the old fortress.”
“After you finished all your business there, I would like to talk to you and your companions. But I will not keep you for now. You are surely tired.”
I was tired, indeed, and I was not in the mood for celebration. Beldrak and Jim were already hopelessly drunk when I got to the inn; both of them chuffing the horrid smoke of the tobacco that still made me cough.
“Go sleep some!” I shouted at them. “We have to wake up early in the morning!”
“Don't be such a sour bastard,” Beldrak generously handed me an empty mug. “Here, drink up!”
“Yeah don't be a spoilsport,” said Jim too. “You already killed my cute little dragon, don't kill the fun too!”
Well, one mug won't hurt, that's true, I told myself the line no young soldier should ever say, when drink is involved.
As it was foreseeable, I woke up with a terrible headache the next day.
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“Get off me!” I growled. Being rested upon by a six feet tall faun is not comfortable in the least.
“Do you think I enjoy this?” it asked as it stood, with an edge in its voice. “This whole thing was your bright idea, after all!”
In the last few minutes we both tried to jump to the edge of the shaft from the other’s shoulders, but ultimately we both fell back. The monster – Jim, I will have to remember that - succeeded in catching the edge with one hand, but it only resulted in a shower of mud and dirt. We were both tired, we were both hurt, and now we were both sitting in the mud; panting with our backs propped against the walls.
“Why have you run from me?” Jim asked after a bout of silence.
“You reminded me of an old enemy of mine,” I lied.
“Oh, you know other tieflings? Are there many of my kind living around here?” the thing asked. So that’s what these wretched creatures call themselves – tieflings. One more thing to remember.
“I am a traveller as well,” I said dismissively. “I have no idea how many… tieflings live among these wretched hills.”
“Pity,” it said. “But not too surprising. I have seen no one but you all morning. Truth to be told, I was looking for a railroad track to follow, but strangely, I haven’t found any. Not even a dirt road or a path.”
A railroad? I understood the two words in themselves but put together they made little sense. A road that is protected by fence maybe? What is the point of that? Never mind that, let’s just agree for now.
“Yes, this countryside is eerily deserted. These hills would be a prime place to raise sheep or cattle, but no sign of that,” I said.
“When you ran away, I hoped you would lead me to a settlement, so I followed you, but you were just as lost among these hills as me,” mused Jim. I winced.
“I have looked around, and I have not seen you tracking me.”
“My old man taught me how to hunt. Well, he was only my foster-father, but he taught me a lot of things anyway. The grass is high around here, and you didn’t know where to look exactly, so it was easy to hide from you. I wasn’t right behind you, but further away. Then I cut ahead of you, and that’s when I fell into this duct.” This confession really hurt my pride as a veles, but we had more urgent matters to mull over than my deficiencies as a scout.
“If neither you, nor I met a soul besides each other, then that means we have no hope of rescue,” I said. “We will have to save ourselves!”
“But how?” asked Jim. “We tried jumping, climbing, clawing a rampart for ourselves, and nothing worked.”
“I will let you know as soon as I come up with a new idea,” I answered. “But I have to rest a little first.”
While we tried, failed, and tried again, the minutes went by. Then half an hour. The wind started to whistle, then howl, then roar. The first drops of rain were warm and small, but they quickly became colder and bigger, as the sky turned from blue to black. There was the flash of lightning, the crack of thunder. We looked at each other in desperation. In the end it was Jim, who put our worry into words.
“We are totally and irrecoverably fucked,” it declared.
Streams of water from the torrential downpour cascaded down the walls, rapidly filling up the shaft. The thick mud became softer and more diluted, causing us to sink deeper into the sludge from the force of its suction.
“We might be able to swim out,” I declared hopefully. “Of course, we would have to leave our armour behind, but…”
“Look at the walls,” gestured the tiefling to the streams running down, washing away larger and larger clogs of sludge. “This shaft will collapse way before that.”
Jim was right of course, but I refused to resign myself to death just yet. One more try, Publius, I said to myself. Give me at least one more idea we can try.
“You said you saw me through the fog,” I said, my voice desperate. “How?”
“I see well in the dark,” it shrugged. “I can see even here, despite the rain, for all the good it does me.” Then let’s hope this is universal among the dwellers of this world.
“We will make signs,” I declared, and started to rip one of my tunics into pieces.
“We agreed that no one is living among these hills,” shook Jim its head.
“We have nothing to lose,” I pointed out.
After we tore my white tunic into pieces, we bound each piece to the handle of a javelin. Then I took aim, and one by one hurled my pila out of the pit. I tried to arc them so they would bore into the soft, rain-soaked earth around our prison. I hoped that the white pieces of cloth would wave and flutter in the wind and signal our presence.
After that, there was nothing but to wait and pray.
Only an hour ago, I was concerned that the monster I saw, or its kin might have followed me, or spotted me accidentally. Now, I was hoping against all hope that Jim did have kin among these hills, and that they would find us. The wind was roaring over our prison now, and I could barely discern the edge of the shaft anymore. I sharpened my ears, wishing to pick up the heavy footsteps of another heavily armoured faun-thing, but of course, even if such a creature was anywhere near the trap, I would have heard nothing. The cracking of thunder and the sound of raindrops drowned out everything.
Then, out of nowhere, a rope fell on Jim’s head. There was a noose at the end of it, big enough for the creature to slip its arms through it. Jim looked at the strand with a face of utter surprise. Then it overcame its bewilderment, and quickly got into the loop and pulled on the rope three times. Without warning, it jolted, started to rise, and soon I lost it from sight.
It didn’t take two minutes and the rope was back. By this time the walls of the shaft were practically melting away in the torrent. There was no time to waste. I put my arms through the noose, pulled on the rope and suddenly I was free from the mud, slamming into the wall. My eyes, ears and mouth went full of dirt, then the rope jolted again, and I started to slide up on the wall.
Not a moment too soon. Whether it was my inadvertent flailing, or the torrential downpour finally undermining them, the walls of the shaft started to angle inwards. But I was hoisted upwards as the trap collapsed around me, and suddenly I was over the edge.
Dirt filled my mouth and nose, my clothes were caked in mud, but finally, I was free. As I was trying to clear my face with rainwater, I suddenly felt two strong pairs of arms raising me up.
“Come! Let us go into the house!” someone shouted into my ear, and started to drag me in of direction where the cabin.
So it must have been occupied after all. Masterful scouting indeed, I congratulated to myself. Falling into a trap and being rescued by the very people I was planning to spy upon – this has probably never happened before in Rome’s long history. Now let’s just hope they didn’t rescue me from drowning in mud just so they could give me an even more gruesome death.
As we walked, I was able to clear my eyes at last and could take a look at my saviours. But there was only Jim and a small man. This latter was rather peculiar: he wore a beard that would have been a subject of envy for the strange folks who lived east from the Mare Internum and eschewed shaving their faces.
I frowned. Where are the others? Did this little hairy man pull Jim out from the pit alone?
That seemed unlikely. The man was a head shorter than me. True, he was also thick and muscular, but the tiefling still must have weighed a lot more than him. Especially since it wore its armour and its weapons as well. Maybe the little man used block and tackle? But where did he find a suitably strong point? I tried to remember whether I had seen a bush or a tree close enough to the shaft before I had fallen into it. Nothing came to my mind. But I can find the answers later. For now – I should be happy that I am free and alive! I couldn’t supress a joyful whoop for that thought. Not like anybody would have heard me in that storm.
Soon we reached the cabin. The sounds of the storm were still loud inside. The walls moaned and cracked, the rain drummed on the roof, and still, the occasional thunder shook the ground under us. But at least we could understand each other’s words now.
“Thank you for saving us!” I shouted to the bearded little man.
“How can we repay your kindness?” Jim asked.
“It’s all right,” shouted the little man. “It was a decent thing to do! Anyone would have done the same. But you were lucky, that I discovered your signs, that much is true! I was heading for this cabin to find shelter from this storm, and that’s how I saw them.”
“I had already given up hope. We thought nobody lived among these hills,” explained the tiefling. “It’s a good thing you were so well-prepared.”
“One should never travel without at last fifty feet of rope” the man said, obviously satisfied with himself. “Let that be a lesson for you, my young friends!”
“I…” I stammered, then cleared my throat. “I will remember this advice.”
“Good lad!” answered he. “What is your name by the way?”
Maybe I was too paranoid, and without a doubt, I was ungrateful – but I had no desire to reveal my real name to strangers, even if they saved my life. Quirinus warned me that I might have enemies looking for me, and for all I knew, this bearded man might have been serving the force that dragged me to this land. Maybe they were even searching for me, just failed to recognise that the man they rescued was also the man they were hunting. Also – I had already lied to Jim, and who knows what that thing would do, if I revealed that I have misled it?
“Arnold,” I said. “The other fellow is Jim. How about you?”
“Beldrak Trueanvil, at your service,” he bowed. “Well, I had just brewed some tea before the storm caught me in the open, it must be still warm. I daresay I make the best tea on the whole of Tegilpén. Or at least in the Misty Hills. Do you have something to eat? If not, I have enough for three people.”
“Tea sounds great,” said Jim. “And I think I will take you up for your offer of food as well.”
What might this “tea” be? I wondered. But the little man – Beldrak – said it was warm, and I was miserably cold – I did not refuse the offer either. In the end the drink was hot as promised, and it had a fruity flavour that I found pleasing.
We ate and drank, and the sounds of the storm slowly abated. Jim and Beldrak talked over our lunch, exchanging recipes and cooking tips with each other, but I took no part in the conversation. My unease of speaking a language I shouldn’t have been able to greatly subsided, but I still had some lingering apprehension. I also had many things to think about.
Once we finished our meal, Trueanvil spoke to us in a more serious tone.
“It is none of my business, of course, but I see that you are both strangers in this land. You,” he nodded towards Jim, “are a tiefling, and I have not seen a tiefling in the Misty Hills in twenty years. And you,” he turned towards me,” wear garments that were already ancient in the times of Tholl Rightiron.”
“Well,” shrugged Jim. “As you said, that’s none of your business.”
“True. Still, I wondered whether or not you might need a guide. I don’t believe in accidents, and the fact that I have met you right here right now must mean something.”
“Do you mean,” I croaked, “that some god has arranged this?”
“Gods?! I hope not, when deities involve themselves into mortal affairs, that spells trouble. I hope that we met here because of fate.”
What is the difference? I wondered. I never cared much for such things, and I always assumed that fate was mostly analogous with the gods’ will. Apparently, they were two distinct things all along, at least according to this little man.
“Sure,” smiled Jim sourly. “The fact is, that in my case at least, gods were involved. Just one god, actually. The deity I served commanded me to travel into this land and spread his name. But he did not give any specific orders, and as you have noticed, I am a stranger here. I would like to have a friend or guide.”
“What about you, Arnold?” asked me Beldrak.
I mulled over the question a minute. On one hand, Quirinus said to me not be too trusting towards the dwellers of this world. On the other hand, I needed guidance, and I needed money too. It would be a logical decision to stay with Beldrak until I knew more about this land.
“I will keep your company too, if you don’t mind. But what do you get out of helping us?”
“Your help with my affairs, what else?” beamed Trueanvil.
“You see, I am a scout here. I was sent here to take a good look at certain things and then report back to the University of Golden Grove. The thing is that I would rather take the opportunity and make a name for myself. There is money to be had here, and maybe even more than that.”
“You are rather vague,” observed Jim. “But the money sounds nice. Do tell us more.”
“You see, this godforsaken place is really at the edge of civilisation,” said Beldrak. “Oakhurst is the only settlement in a thirty miles circle, other than that there are only forests, hills and ruins here. Now, I am interested in ruins, especially in a particular ruin.”
“Which would be?”
“A citadel, swallowed by the earth.”
“You mean a citadel that collapsed?” I asked, suddenly interested. Architecture was always a favourite subject of mine.
“No my boy, the fort was literally swallowed by the earth. The rooms, corridors and halls are still all there, but it’s under the earth now.”
“That, I wish to see,” I said incredulously. “I won’t believe that such a thing can exist before I see it.”
“Then you are in luck because I am heading towards the place,” answered Beldrak. “Apparently, back then, in the times of the Liberation, it was a significant fort, guarding a busy road. But during the wars, the fort was sunk, and the road fell into disuse. The folks at the university never really found out what happened here. You know how it is, there were always more pressing issues, and they never got around sending an expedition here to properly investigate.”
“Until now?” asked Jim.
“Until now,” confirmed Beldrak. “You see, there are rumours of apples coming from the citadel, apples that can heal anyone. The first one appeared a year or two ago, and there are trustworthy witnesses about such a fruit healing a person whom even the most knowledgeable priests couldn’t help before.”
A magical apple that can cure everyone? I heard many tales like this before. I listened to such tales, searched for these medicines, even bought a few of them. They did not work. They never work.
“So they sent you to investigate and report back,” said the tiefling.
“They did, but if the rumours are true, I would rather take an apple with myself. I could make powerful people indebted to me, and as I said, I think there is quite a bit of money to be had in that underground fortress. According to what I know, the place is a refuge of goblin bandits nowadays, who rob merchants through this region. That’s not a lot of merchants, but what the ruffians get in gold and silver cannot spend easily, as the only settlement here is the village of Oakhurst. So they must have accumulated some wealth over the years.”
“And we get to share the spoils of adventure?” asked Jim.
“Each one of us gets a third of the money we make together, and I get all the books, should we find any,” answered Beldrak. “I won’t lie, coming with me has its dangers. I think something, some ancient force must have awakened in the citadel, and they are the ones, making these apples. They won’t take kindly to our investigation either. But I genuinely think that our meeting here was fated. I think the three of us together will uncover the history of the fortress, find out how the appearance of the apples is related to it, and we will also clear out a dangerous nest of criminals.”
What am I doing? I thought. That is the point where a sensible man should take back his rash words from before about accompanying this little troublemaker. This Beldrak might provide guidance, but he wants to guide me straight into mayhem. And this other one, this Jim… I am still not sure what to think about it.
But I was never sensible enough for my own good. My curiosity was piqued, and so was my greed. Trueanvil spoke about gold, silver, and secrets that were all ours to uncover. So I cleared my throat and asked:
“Shouldn’t we get on our way then? The storm is over now."

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Now that the corridors and caves lying behind the southern door of the well-chamber have been all explored, we set forth to discover all chambers in the western parts of the maze. Soon we met with opposition, but just like on the upper level, the goblins were disorganised. They had days of warning, they even had to clear up the signs of one of our massacres, and still, they went about their gardening carefreely, as if no danger threatened them. I struggled to believe that any creature capable of speech could be this stupid. So I came up with the idea that this mysterious Outcast, whom the kobolds were talking about, was putting his minions deliberately in harm's way.
“That would make sense,” Beldrak said. “I suspect this Outcast has to be a user of magic like myself. It stands to reason that he has some influence over the goblins, and orders them around, or manipulates them with more subtle methods.”
“Whoever it is, he wants to get rid of the goblins,” mused Jim. “And wants to recruit us, instead of them?”
“A possibility,” I allowed. “But he has to be insane if he believes we will join him after the ordeal he put us through.”
We cleared out room after room. In a big hexagonal chamber, another fire snake made its lair. Despite my previous promise of never going near one again, I cut it down and was burned again in turn. As thanks, I got yelled at again by Beldrak for ruining yet another cloak of fire protection. I swore to let him deal with the next fire snake alone, but we never found a third one.
One by one, we followed the corridors and routes of the maze to their end. Less and less doors remained, which opened into chambers we haven't discovered yet, and we met less and less goblins. It was already well into the evening when we found the room with the dragon sculpture.
“Here will be a trap,” announced Beldrak.
“Let me guess. A time-honoured custom of building mazes is putting traps into rooms with creepy sculptures?”
“Something like that. Now, I will perform my ritual to detect magic. Look around for mundane traps till then, will you?”
Beldrak started chanting, I began to examine the tiles and walls, and then a black cloud came shrieking from behind the sculpture. It was levitating a good foot above the ground, a whirling, swirling black mass of a creature. It stopped for only a moment as if unable to decide which of us would make the juiciest prey, then rushed towards Jim.
This trap didn't take much springing; I thought as I unsheathed my sword, and went running to take the creature in the back. My slash, however, went harmlessly through the air. The black cloud gracefully danced away, as if it had seen me coming, even though its attention should have been focused on Jim.
Beldrak started to react now, his tone changing, his chanting deeper and faster, and Erky started the familiar motions to summon that purple fire of his. But the first to strike the enemy was Jim. He was bleeding from a wound on his face, and his eyes were glowing, their usual pitch black turning into a deep crimson. He shouted only one deep word, his finger pointing towards the black cloud, and suddenly a host of black flames erupted from the ground, and the shriek of the creature turned from victorious to painful. Or maybe I just imagined that.
I swung my sword again hard and cut the cloud in half. I felt some resistance, but it was very different to cutting into living flesh, and instead of getting stuck, my blade went through the whole of the creature. Anything with a real body would have been dead after a slash like that. But the cloud was only wounded, its swirling mass closing behind my sword.
Even so, it did not have long to live. It turned towards me and clawed at me, but I jumped backwards, and I felt my mail stopping the attack. Then Erky and Beldrak finished their spells, while Jim brought down the axeblade of his halberd. The cloud shrieked once more, than it fell limp on the floor, spreading on the stones like an ugly, black puddle.
“What was that?” I asked panting.
“Damned if I know,” answered Beldrak. “Even I can't know everything. But let us pull back a little. There might be other traps, and I will have to start my ritual from the beginning again.”
The dragon sculpture proved to be a bearer of powerful magic according to Beldrak: it made a person more persuasive and attractive for a day, in exchange for a small sacrifice of coins or something other of value. There were no other traps left, neither magical nor mundane.
There was only one door other than what we came through, and it opened to a small, somewhat tidier than usual room. There was a shelf in there, which held books, so many beautiful books!
Books in this world were much different from the books I was used to: they were made of a different kind of papyrus, and they bound together a whole lot of them by one side. It was a really practical and nice solution, and most of these books even had a hard leathery cover.
I always liked reading, but we didn't have many books at home, and most of those few were written in Greek, which my parents spoke, but I was only starting to learn. Like then, most of the books we found now were written in languages I did not understand yet.
Beldrak, on the other hand, spoke many languages used by the learned of this world, and he was going through the library, taking the books one by one, examining their cover, then reading a few pages here and there. He told us to secure the room, so we raised a makeshift barricade before the door we entered through, and before the other one that led further north.
“Shouldn't we press on?” I asked after an hour or so.
“No, I was finished for today anyways. Also, this is a treasure trove. We might find here the answer to all of our questions. Where does the apple come from? How is it made? Why this fortress was sunk into a ravine?”
“We will leave you to your investigation then,” said Jim. “It was time for me to get some sleep anyway.”
We didn't have to clean up this room, it was already clean enough, an unusual sight in this maze of underground gardens and goblin quarters. Whoever was in charge of the place did not let the little nubbins soil this chamber.
Hours later, as I finished polishing my armour and started to whet my swords for the second time that day, Beldrak closed the book he was reading with a loud thump. His face was radiating satisfaction and victory.
“I did not find out about the apple yet, but I know why the fortress sunk.”
“Do tell me then,” I answered excitedly. Curiosity after hearing Beldrak's story was at least half the reason why I joined him in this expedition, and the days since then only convinced me more that there were secrets here that were worth unearthing.
“This place was built by a dragon-cult. It was a group of wizards and sorcerers who were leading them, a powerful bunch, but with a little crooked mind. They professed that dragons should rule the world, which I guess would be an understandable position if they were thinking about silver or golden dragons. But they didn't care about the colours, only that they should be dead.”
“You are not making any sense.”
“They were revering undead dragons, namely dracoliches. They had a few prophecies regarding the coming of an age where these undead dragons would form a nation encompassing the whole of Tegilpén, or even the whole world, and running it wisely and efficiently.”
“I see what you meant when you said their minds were a little crooked.”
“Anyways, they were a powerful and wealthy movement and built some fortresses, this amongst them. For obvious reasons they did not advertise their beliefs very loudly, but eventually, their secrets came out in the open, and one of the saner churches decided to put an end to this dracolich-loving nonsense. One by one the leaders of the cult were assassinated. Others perished in battle. The commander of this fort, a powerful elvish dragon-priest reckoned his enemies would come around to deal with him eventually, so he tried to make himself immortal.”
“He did succeed in some measure, but he also turned into some abomination. He lost most of his power it seems, and he pissed off his fellow priests as much as his enemies. So they made a temporary peace it seems, sieged the fortress down, imprisoned the poor devil for eternity somehow, then sunk the fortress, and tried to forget about the whole debacle. They left a few guards here, just in case. The commander of the guard, eventually came around to write a few passages about the history of the fortress. He was a wizard, like myself. He is taciturn and skips many details, but I was able to put together as much as I told you.”
“And the apples?”
“Nothing of the apples yet. I am also interested in how this whole thing ties to the healing fruits, but none of the books here mentions them. At least not the ones I have come around to read. But I only looked in a dozen or so. Given time, I will find out how the apples fit into the picture.”
“What happened to the commander who wrote this book?”
“He left eventually or died here. Probably died, I doubt he would have left these books here otherwise.”
“Do you think this immortal priest is the Outcast we are looking for?”
“Might well be. There would be no secure prison for an immortal if he did achieve that. If you can just wait it out... I guess there is a chance your prison will crumble around you, and you become free again. I should spend a few days here. If I could read all these books...”
“You know we have no time to do that. Even if the Hucreles are dead, we have to act as if they were alive until we find proof of their demise.”
“And we also shouldn't leave our enemies time to recover,” Beldrak sighed. “I know. The goblins act disorganised and stupid so we should press on before they come to their senses. We are winning; we uncovered most of the maze by now, so we should go all the way tomorrow.”
I didn't need to answer. I judged that my smaller sword had enough of an edge now, so I put it away, and took the bigger one into my hand.
“Go to sleep, Beldrak. I will have the first watch.”
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First
Previous
“Get off me!” I growled. Being rested upon by a six feet tall faun is not comfortable in the least.
“Do you think I enjoy this?” it asked as it stood, with an edge in its voice. “This whole thing was your bright idea, after all!”
In the last minutes we both tried to jump to the edge of the shaft from the shoulders of the other, but we both fell back on the other. The monster – Jim, I will have to remember that - succeeded catching the edge with one hand, but it only resulted in a shower of mud and dirt. We were both tired, we were both hurt, and now we were both sitting in the mud, panting, our backs propped against the walls.
“Why have you run from me?” Jim asked after a bout of silence.
“You reminded me of an old enemy of mine”, I lied.
“Oh, you know other tieflings? Are there many of my kind living around here?” the thing asked. So that’s how these wretched creatures call themselves – tieflings. One more thing to remember.
“I am a traveller as well”, I said dismissively. “I have no idea how many… tieflings live among these wretched hills.”
“Pity”, it said. “But not too surprising. I have seen no one but you all morning. Truth to be told, I was looking for a railroad track to follow, but strangely, I haven’t found any. Not even a dirt road or a path.”
A railroad? I understand the two words in themselves but put together they made little sense. A road that is protected by fence maybe? What is the point of that? Never mind that, let’s just agree for now.
“Yes, this countryside is eerily deserted. These hills would be a prime place to raise sheep or cattle, but no sign of that”, I said.
“When you ran away, I hoped you would lead me to a settlement, so I followed you, but you were just as lost among these hills as me”, mused Jim. I winced.
“I have looked around, and I have not seen you tracking me.”
“My old man taught me how to hunt. Well, he was only my foster-father, but he taught me a lot of things anyway. The grass is high around here, and you didn’t know where to look exactly, so it was easy to hide from you. I wasn’t right behind you, but further away. Then I cut ahead of you, and that’s when I fell into this duct.” This confession really hurt my pride as a veles, but we had more urgent matters to mull over than my deficiencies as a scout.
“If neither you, nor I met a soul besides each other, then that means we have no hope of rescue”, I said. “We will have to save ourselves!”
“But how?” asked Jim. “We tried jumping, climbing, clawing a rampart for ourselves, and nothing worked.”
“I will let you know as soon as I come up with a new idea”, I answered. “But I have to rest a little first.”
While we tried, failed, and tried again, the minutes went by. Then half an hour. The wind started to whistle, then howl, then roar. The first drops of rain were warm and small, but they quickly became colder and bigger, as the sky turned from blue to black. There was the flash of lightning, the crack of thunder. We looked at each other desperately. In the end it was Jim, who put our worry into words.
“We are totally and irrecoverably fucked”, it declared.
The shaft around us was filling fast in the torrential downpour, streams of water were running down on the walls. The mud became more soft and diluted, so we sank deeper into it now, but the sludge also lost from the force of its suction at the same time.
“We might be able to swim out”, I declared hopefully. “Of course, we would have to leave our armour behind, but…”
“Look at the walls”, gestured the tiefling to the streams running down, washing away larger and larger clogs of sludge. “This shaft will collapse way before that.”
Jim was right of course, but I refused to resign myself to death just yet. One more try, Publius, I said to myself. Give me at least one more idea we can try.
“You said you saw me through the fog”, I said, my voice desperate. “How?”
“I see well in the dark”, it shrugged. “I can see even here, despite the rain, for all the good it does to me.” Then let’s hope this is universal among the dwellers of this world.
“We will make signs”, I declared, and started to rip one of my tunics into pieces.
“We agreed that no one is living among these hills”, shook Jim its head.
“We have nothing to lose”, I pointed out.
After we tore my white tunic into pieces, we bound each piece to the handle of a javelin. Then I took aim, and one by one hurled my pila out of the pit. I tried to arc them so they would bore into the soft, rain-soaked earth around our prison. I hoped that the white pieces of cloth would wave and flutter in the wind and signal our presence.
After that, there was nothing but to wait and pray.
Only an hour ago, I was concerned that the monster I saw, or its kin might have followed me, or spotted me accidentally. Now, I was hoping against all hope that Jim did have kin among these hills, and that they would find us. The wind was roaring over our prison now, and I could barely discern the edge of the shaft anymore. I sharpened my ears, wishing to pick up the heavy footsteps of another heavily armoured faun-thing, but of course, even if such a creature was anywhere near the trap, I would have heard nothing. The cracking of thunders and the sound of raindrops drowned out everything.
Then, out of nowhere, a rope fell on Jim’s head. There was a noose at the end of it, big enough for the creature to slip its arms through it. Jim looked at the strand with a face of utter surprise. Then it overcame its bewilderment, and quickly got into the loop and pulled on the rope three times. Without warning, it jolted, started to rise, and soon I lost it from sight.
It didn’t take two minutes and the rope was back. By this time the walls of the shaft were practically melting away in the torrent. There was no time to waste. I put my arms through the noose, pulled on the rope and suddenly I was free from the mud, slamming into the wall. My eyes, ears and mouth went full of dirt, then the rope jolted again, and I started to slide up on the wall.
Not a moment too soon. Whether it was my inadvertent flailing, or the torrential downpour finally undermining them, the walls of the shaft started to angle inwards. But I was hoisted upwards as the trap collapsed around me, and suddenly I was over the edge.
Dirt filled my mouth and nose, my clothes were caked in mud, but finally, I was free. As I was trying to clear my face with rainwater, I suddenly felt two strong pairs of arms raising me up.
“Come! Let us go into the house!” someone shouted into my ear, and started to drag me to the direction where the cabin laid.
So it must have been occupied after all. What a masterful scouting indeed, I congratulated to myself. Falling into a trap and being rescued by the very people I was planning to spy upon – this has probably never happened before in Rome’s long history. Now let’s just hope they didn’t rescue me from drowning in mud just so they can give me an even more gruesome death.
As we walked, I was able to clear my eyes at last and could take a look at my saviours. But there was only Jim and a small man. This latter was rather peculiar: he wore a beard that would have been a subject of envy for the strange folks who lived east from the Mare Internum and eschewed shaving their faces.
I frowned. Where are the others? Did this little hairy man pull Jim out from the pit alone?
That seemed unlikely. The man was a head shorter than me. True, he was also thick and muscular, but the tiefling still must have weighed a lot more than him, especially that he wore his armour and his weapons as well. Maybe the little man used block and tackle? But where did he find a suitably strong point? I tried to remember whether I saw a bush or a tree close enough to the shaft before I have fallen into it. Nothing came to my mind. But I can find the answers later. For now – I should be happy that I am free and alive! I couldn’t supress a joyful whoop for that thought. Not like anybody would have heard me in that storm.
Soon we reached the cabin. The sounds of the storm were still loud inside. The walls moaned and cracked, the rain drummed on the roof, and still, the occasional thunder shook the ground under us. But at least we could understand each other’s words now.
“Thank you for saving us!” I shouted to the bearded little man.
“How can we repay your kindness?” Jim asked.
“It’s all right”, shouted the little man. “It was a decent thing to do! Anyone would have done the same. But you were lucky, that I discovered your signs, that much is true! I was heading for this cabin to find shelter from this storm, and that’s how I saw them.”
“I have already given up hope. We thought nobody lived among these hills”, explained the tiefling. “It’s a good thing you were so well-prepared.”
“One should never travel without at last fifty feet of rope” the man said, obviously satisfied with himself. “Let that be a lesson for you, my young friends!”
“I…” I stammered, then cleared my throat. “I will remember this advice.”
“Good lad!” answered he. “What is your name by the way?”
Maybe I was too paranoid, and without a doubt, I was ungrateful – but I had no desire to reveal my real name to strangers, even if they saved my life. Quirinus warned me that I might have enemies looking for me, and for all I knew, this bearded man might have been serving the force that dragged me to this land. Maybe they were even searching for me, just failed to recognise that the man they rescued was also the man they were hunting. Also – I have already lied to Jim, and who knows what that thing would do, if I revealed that I have misled it?
“Arnold”, I said. “The other fellow is Jim. How about you?”
“Beldrak Trueanvil, at your service”, he bowed. “Well, I had just brewed some tea before the storm caught me in the open, it must be still warm. I daresay I make the best tea on the whole of Tegilpén. Or at least in the Misty Hills. Do you have something to eat? If not, I have enough for three people.”
“Tea sounds great”, said Jim. “And I think I will take you up for your offer of food as well.”
What might this “tea” be? I wondered. But the little man – Beldrak – said it was warm, and I was miserably cold – I did not refuse the offer either. In the end the drink was hot as promised, and it had a fruity flavour that I found pleasing.
We ate and drank, and the sounds of the storm slowly abated. Jim and Beldrak talked over our lunch, exchanging recipes and cooking tips with each other, but I took no part in the conversation. My uneasiness over speaking a language I really shouldn’t have been able to, greatly abated, but I still had some lingering apprehension. I also had many things to think about.
Once we finished our meal, Trueanvil spoke to us in a more serious tone.
“It is none of my business, of course, but I see that you are both strangers in this land. You”, he nodded towards Jim, “are a tiefling, and I have not seen a tiefling in the Misty Hills in twenty years. And you”, he turned towards me”, wear garments that were already ancient in the times of Tholl Rightiron.”
“Well”, shrugged Jim. “As you said, that’s none of your business.”
“True. Still, I wondered whether or not you might need a guide. I don’t believe in accidents, the fact that I have met you right here right now must mean something.”
“Do you mean”, I croaked, “that some god has arranged this?”
“Gods?! I hope not, when deities involve themselves into mortal affairs, that spells trouble. I hope that we met here because of fate.”
What is the difference? I wondered. I never cared much for such things, and I always assumed that fate was mostly analogous with the gods’ will. Apparently, they were two distinct things all along, at least according to this little man.
“Sure”, smiled Jim sourly. “The fact is, that in my case at least, gods were involved. Just one god, actually. The deity I served commanded me to travel into this land and spread his name. But he did not give any specific orders, and as you have noticed, I am a stranger here. I would like to have a friend or guide.”
“What about you, Arnold?” asked me Beldrak.
I mulled over the question a minute. On one hand, Quirinus said to me not be too trusting towards the dwellers of this world. On the other hand, I needed guidance, and I needed money too. It would be a logical decision to stay with Beldrak until I knew more about this land.
“I will keep your company too if you don’t mind. But what do you get out of helping us?”
“Your help with my affairs, what else?” beamed Trueanvil.
“You see, I am a scout here. I was sent here to take a good look at certain things and then report back to the University of Golden Grove. The thing is that I would rather take the opportunity and make a name for myself. There is money to be had here, and maybe even more than that.”
“You are rather vague”, observed Jim. “But the money sounds nice. Do tell us more.”
“You see, this godforsaken place is really at the edge of civilisation”, said Beldrak. “Oakhurst is the only settlement in a thirty miles circle, other than that there are only forests here, hills and ruins. Now, I am interested in ruins, especially in a particular ruin.”
“Which would be?”
“A citadel, swallowed by the earth.”
“You mean a citadel that collapsed?” I asked, suddenly interested. Architecture was always a favourite subject of mine.
“No my boy, the fort was literally swallowed by the earth. The rooms, corridors and halls are still all there, but it’s under the earth now.”
“That, I wish to see”, I said incredulously. “I won’t believe that such a thing can exist before I see it.”
“Then you are in luck because I am heading towards the place”, answered Beldrak. “Apparently, back then, in the times of the Liberation, it was a significant fort, guarding a busy road. But during the wars, the fort was sunk, and the road fell into disuse. The folks at the university never really found out what happened here. You know how it is, there were always more pressing issues, and they never got around to send an expedition here to properly investigate.”
“Until now?” asked Jim.
“Until now”, confirmed Beldrak. “You see, there are rumours of apples coming from the citadel, apples that can heal anyone. The first one appeared a year or two ago, and there are trustworthy witnesses about such a fruit healing a person whom even the most knowledgeable priests couldn’t help before.”
A magical apple that can cure everyone? I heard many tales like this before. I listened to such tales, searched for these medicines, even bought a few of them. They did not work. They never work.
“So they sent you to investigate and report back”, said the tiefling.
“They did, but if the rumours are true, I would rather take an apple with myself. I could make powerful people indebted to me, and as I said, I think there is quite a bit of money to be had in that underground fortress. According to what I know, the place is a refuge of goblin bandits nowadays, who rob merchants through this region. That’s not a lot of merchants, but what the ruffians get in gold and silver cannot spend easily, as the only settlement here is the village of Oakhurst. So they must have accumulated some wealth over the years.”
“And we get to share the spoils of adventure?” asked Jim.
“Each one of us gets a third of the money we make together, and I get all the books, should we find any”, answered Beldrak. “I won’t lie, coming with me has its dangers. I think something, some ancient force must have awakened in the citadel, and they are the ones, making these apples. They won’t take kindly to our investigation either. But I genuinely think that our meeting here was fated. I think the three of us together will uncover the history of the fortress, find out how the appearance of the apples is related to it, and we will also clear out a dangerous nest of criminals.”
What am I doing? I thought. That is the point where a sensible man should take back his rash words from before about accompanying this little troublemaker. This Beldrak might provide guidance, but he wants to guide me straight into mayhem. And this other one, this Jim… I am still not sure what to think about it.
But I was never sensible enough for my own good. My curiosity was piqued, and so was my greed. Trueanvil spoke about gold, silver, and secrets that were all ours to uncover. So I cleared my throat and asked:
“Shouldn’t we get on our way then? The storm is over now.”
Next
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