The barbarian tribes colloquially referred to as the “Bloodtoil Pack” are not recognized by the Elder Council as a legitimate nation-state or political body. Their ways are bloody and primitive; intentionally so, as they believe civilization a corrupting influence. You will find no embassy or consulate from the Potentate there. The only trade they do is with the Mother Navigators, who still command respect from the Khajiit of that region, and the Minotaur colonists who have brought their Colovian values with them. Nevertheless, since the Treaty of Xylo in 4E 344, they have been recognized by their northern neighbors in the Imperium of Sunnamora and thus remain both politically and economically relevant. Therefore this section of the Guide has been compiled from the letters of diplomats, missionaries, merchants, mercenaries, and anthropologists who have risked life and limb among these peoples.
The capital “city” of Bloodtoil Valley is where representatives of the tribes gather to confer with the High Prophet of the Green about matters both political and spiritual. Lest this hint of civilization fool you, dear reader, may we clarify that this tribal council rarely passes anything resembling “legislation,” and instead exists merely to maintain peace between the ever-violent tribes and discuss dealings with foreigners. The Temple of Bloodtoil itself is an eclectic structure converted from an old Wood Orc stronghold, and the High Prophet of the Green spends much of their time inside “meditating upon the Now.” Once a season (the locals count time in rainy seasons and dry seasons, not years), the High Prophet makes a pilgrimage to Deepwoods to confer with the Green Lady, who is supposedly the “true” spiritual leader of Bloodtoil, though no one except the High Prophet and their inner council has seen her in over a century.
The other spiritual center of Bloodtoil is Elden Root to the south. The Bosmer have regrown the ancient Graht-Oak city since the great calamities of the Second Great War, but how it has already reached the size of the old Elden Root is anyone’s guess. The Bosmer here are bizarre and inbred; some covered in fur with jutting boar tusks, others wearing beards of moss, others still with insectoid eyes and antenna, and more variation than can be described. The natives claim their appearance is a “gift” from the Green. The more logical explanation is that their isolation from the rest of the world and their mating with Beastfolk have brought about such deformities.
Moonmont on the eastern border with Pelletine is the primary Khajiiti settlement. Built up by the comings-and-goings of the Mother Navigators, a visitor could almost forget they are in Bloodtoil and not one of the former Elsweyr states. The Green Prophecy does have some purchase there, namely in the “part of the Green that chooses to be Khenarthi.” The clan mother of the settlement sends a representative to Bloodtoil Valley, but her true power lies in the moon sugar. Many Greenists believe the sugar can be used to make contact with the Spirit of the Now, and her economic power is dominant.
Verrant Morass is the closest thing the Imga have to a settlement. Made up of tree houses and stone huts, they are led directly by a Green Prophet. Indeed, the Imga are the most enthusiastic supporters of the Green Prophecy, and make up the plurality of Green Prophets. Some may see connections to the Prophet Marukh, but that particular Saint is largely despised by his own people. To the Imga of Bloodtoil he represents the obsession with civilization which had kept the Imga subservient to the Aldmeri for so long. Now they despise all things civilized, fixed religious codes most of all. They insist the Green cannot be understood with words or thoughts, only by some mystical “contact with the Now.”
Other peoples also populate Bloodtoil. Barkbite remains a Wood Orc stronghold, and Harpies nest among the trees across the region. The river banks and shorelines are populated with Lamiae, while centaurs and faun roam the Tarlain Heights.
The most recent addition to the Pack are the most controversial. Tired of the constant Bjoulsean raids in Colovia, a few Minotaur clans immigrated to Bloodtoil and rebuilt the city of Marbruk. They brought the Cyrodiilic values of free trade and enterprise with them, practice an elective monarchy in the Cyro-Nordic style, and most horrifyingly of all - especially the Bosmer and Imga - was their choice to chop down trees and irrigate farms. This resulted in a month of tribal skirmishes in the central jungle until the High Prophet intervened. Part of the truce involved the Minotaurs recognizing the Heavanly Bull, the Storm, and Shezarr as aspects of the Green. Alessia worship, associated as it is with hated Marukh, is heavily discouraged. More economically relevant, the Minotaurs were heavily limited in their lumber and agricultural practices. At the moment, the East Empire Company’s friends in the Tamrielic Bank of Z’en are offering generous loans to help the Minotaurs develop their colony.
In times of war, their armies are generally a motley affair, albeit a terrifying one. Imga “Green Knights” welding bone-lances charge atop their Senche friend-mounts, backed by centaurs and satyrs. Harpies and Goblins riding hippogriffs act as the “army of the air.” Bosmer Stags of Z’en act as spies and assassins. Lamiae drag foes beneath the watery depths, as spriggan mothers turn the trees and soil against invaders. Needless to say, reader, travel in this wildland at your own peril.
_____
I was only in Bloodtoil for a short time. Met some Wood Orcs and Lamias at Haven. They were suspicious of outsiders, and made it clear our ship would be moving along soon. I don't think they were the violent brutes the Company would have you believe, but it is true that they prefer to be left alone. And hopefully it goes without saying those "loans" are anything but generous.

28 - The Fountain Build

Point Summary

Point Total: 1000 CP 1000 (Base)

Jump Details

Document name: 28 - The Fountain Version: 1.1 Author: SJ-Chan Source: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1J9PF3AIk-7AcY8Gd2R7CJXaqDZPdxgeO/view

Jump Duration

Years: 10 Months: 0 Days: 0

Perks

Noble Thought (Free)
A noble is a creature of excess, and excess has a way of blinding one to reality. Well, not you. No matter how much you have, you will never forget the value of things, the realities of the lives of people who aren’t you, and truth that the world does not, in fact, revolve around you. You will not forget to treat people with the respect due them, nor will you disregard their suffering simply because it doesn’t affect you.
Noble Deed (Free)
Things you do echo further, have greater impact, are remembered longer. History books never leave you out and, when you visit places you once tread, you will find relics and signs of your passage no matter how much time has passed. You will not be forgotten. But you might not be remembered fondly.
Inventor's Vision (Free)
When you look upon a problem or issue that you understand even a bit, you instantly get a sense for how you might solve that problem, upgrade that item, or improve that situation. The longer you study some situation or item, the greater the insight will be and the more far reaching the solution. You might look at the state of education in your society and within a week have a dozen workable plans for small ways to improve the situation, and within a year of study have a comprehensive and feasible plan for a complete overhaul of the system. While not guaranteed that all your ideas will be good ones, improvement becomes far more likely with time and effort. Unforeseen side effects might still crop up though.
Inventor's Intent (Free)
One of the worst things an inventor can experience is discovering that someone has used their invention in a way they would not approve of... or even worse, that their invention has some horrible side-effect. Now this is much less likely to happen to you. Processes, techniques, and tools invented by you are much harder to abuse in ways you would not approve of, and you’re much better at foreseeing potential problems ahead of time and figuring out ways to head them off or, at least, lessen the fallout that will result from them.
Improved POV (Free)
Somehow, wherever you go, you always seem to be in five closely related locations at the same time. Well, that’s not quite right. Let me try again. When you are anywhere, four versions of you that aren’t quite really there, but could be there if you weren’t there... are there. Does that make any sense? Probably not. But what it boils down to is that for every event you experience, you have not one but five points of view on the event. Maybe one of you was right in the middle of a bar-fight, while another you was in the corner watching, and a third was working a pick-up shift behind the bar, and a fourth was an EMT who responded to the event and the fifth was a bum on the sidewalk outside listening. Only the primary you is the one who was really in the moment, but you can freely remember what all the four... let’s call them shadows... would have seen and experienced from their own unique POVs. You can’t really choose what they were doing, as they are more like echoes of potential you’s, but their experiences will be close enough to what you’d have experienced to be easily internalized and all the details will be as true as anything you actually experienced.
Bystander (Free)
When you don’t want to be involved in the events unfolding around you, be that a war, a fight, or a natural disaster, you may remove yourself from the flow of events almost entirely. As long as no individual or entity involved wants to target you specifically, you may become an all but intangible, unperceivable, untargetable observer. Even area effect things like, say, atomic bomb blasts, will pass harmlessly through you, though you might want to get out of there before the radiation gets to you. All Together Now (Free)
You have grown tired of casting off the memories and emotions each Jump layers over your basic identity. You may now choose to absorb the personality of any self you gain or have ever been into a gestalten whole. While this may dilute your basic youness, it also makes it much harder for anyone but you to make sense of your memories or to use any specific traumatic experience against you. Although there is now more of you, your essential sense of self only grows stronger the more times you do this, as all these facets of yourself serve to reinforce your fundamental identity, and you realize that the more you appear to change, the more you explore the limits of who you are. In layman’s terms, each apparent change is more akin to uncovering further digits of pi. Pi itself never changes even as it grows more complex.
500 Years of Practice - Teaching [100/900 CP]
You have spent five centuries mastering (and beyond mastering) any singular skill or artform. Sure, you might be a bit obsessed with that subject, but that obsession will fade as the jump comes to an end. Your compulsive delving into the limits of this singular area of study has granted you insights that no other living being has ever reached, allowing you to casually compose masterpieces which can profoundly move those who witness them, or create stunning refinements undreamt of by mere masters. A painter could trace a perfect circle in black on a white background and viewers would stare for hours. A dancer could reduce the audience to tears simply by standing still. A sculptor could carve hard stone until it was all but impossible to tell the sculpture from a living being. A poet’s words could touch the hardest heart or sway public opinion like a gale-force wind.
Soothing Presence [200/700 CP]
You have achieved inner calm and can project it at others as long as you are not currently experiencing any strong emotion yourself. Merely being in someone’s presence is enough to calm them dramatically, but physical contact, oratory or song, or simply allowing them to see you can all boost the effect by orders of magnitude. This can sooth mental, emotional, or spiritual suffering, or simply induce a sense of lassitude over the target or targets. This can work on any number of people as long as you can reach them with your presence.
Absolution [300/400 CP]
If you can convince someone to willingly pour out their deepest fears, regrets, or sins to you, you can grant them true absolution, allowing them to forgive themselves and move on. This does absolutely nothing for you as it does not work if you make it conditional. Their repentance must be genuine for this to work and they cannot desire gaining absolution for any immoral or unethical purpose.

Items Stipend: [+200/600 CP]

Meditation Garden (Free)
The Body. The Mind. The Soul. A perfect trinity, working in harmony to reflect the Self. But when one of these is disrupted, balance can be at risk. Balance must be maintained. Upon purchase, your Warehouse gains a small Meditation Garden attachment, that while it cannot be used for storage, it will always fit whatever form you are wearing. Its aesthetics will always change to represent what you interpret as an environment of perfect serenity and 'oneness', and a significant time meditating in this space will help you reach an intrinsic understanding of the self and how your experiences can define you. The past cannot always be changed, but the present can forever be gleaned on... so that the future is always one of your design. You can, if you like, plant a few small plants in your Garden as well. Any plant inside the garden will always be in the full flush of life.
Biosphere [200/400 CP]
The body is but a vessel of the mind, with one changing as the other does, constantly learning from what it experiences and accomplishes. It is only natural then, that the experiences of those around the body will likewise help shape it. To gain the perspective and change you desire, your environment must reflect that. For this meager price, your Warehouse has gained the properties of a Biosphere; self-contained, but controlled. The walls and ceiling can be made 'open', to make it appear as though you were in the middle of an open field in the summer, or a cliffside as the night sky illuminated the plains. While you cannot store anything outside of the Warehouse boundaries, and you will always be aware of these boundaries... the weather and the environment around you shall be in your control, with even simulacrums of wildlife that may fly around. Perhaps by expressing your mind in here, you can begin to understand it. The higher price unlocks the Biosphere Supplement and grants you 800 BP to spend there instead of the default 600.
Tree of Life Sapling [400/0 CP]
You have managed to obtain a fully viable, albeit fairly young Tree of Life. It produces both bark and, once a decade, six fully viable fruits that will (if left on the tree) mature to seeds. Each takes a hundred years to become a sapling, and a thousand years to reach full maturity. The sap is incredibly deadly, so it’s a good thing the flesh of the tree is all but impenetrable to anything short of divine weapons. If you purchased the Meditation Garden, the Sapling will initially be planted there. If you did not, it will be planted in a small reflecting pool attached to your Warehouse. Those who eat the fruit of the tree of life can live forever in the prime of life and free of all disease, gaining the effects of the Perfect Health Perk above.
Note - Perfect Health [Free in the Future, 400 to Keep]: Thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, you have gained perfect health, immunity to all diseases, the ability to heal from any non-lethal wound, and to live, essentially, forever.

28A - Biosphere Supplement Build

Point Summary

Point Total: 800 CP 800 (Base)

Jump Details

Document name: 28A - Biosphere Supplement Version: 1.7 Author: SJ-Chan Source: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XhaR5HSde1GKV_kbfp2u_YQEYFGqOg2a1GIBOgp8FfQ/edit

Items

Biosphere Basic and Freebies (Free)
Note: Main island is 64km diameter (3217 sqkm area - basically the same size as the county I live in) , 2 islands are 16km diameter, 3 islands are 4km diameter, etc. "World" zone is 25,736 sqkm area (181km diameter)
The Sphere is divided into an inner “Land Space” World and an outer “Air Space” Shell. If the World expands, it does not increase the thickness of the Shell and vis versa. The sphere is always a perfect sphere.
The initial World is 1 km from edge to edge and contains your base island. The Island is 1 km in diameter. It is mostly circular, with an area of 0.785 km2. It is 200-250 meters thick and all jagged on the bottom. The World is a sphere, though the half above “sea level” is likely to be largely full of air. It is exactly as tall as it is wide. Your warehouse is always at the exact center of the World’s horizontal axes, though it can be raised or lowered vertically if you have the means.
The initial Shell is also 1 km. This means it is ½ km give or take, from the edge of your initial island. If you fall off the edge of the island, you will fall to the bottom of the sphere and need to get someone to come and get you if you cannot fly. Building within ½ km of the outer edge of the Shell is prohibited.
Gravity is Earth normal.
Biosphere Day Cycler [Free] - Now you can run your Biosphere through a day night system.
Utilities [Free if you have them from the Warehouse or Housing] - Electricity, Intranet with wifi (will only connect to outside data net if you have that upgrade), Running Water (Fluoridated or not, your choice), Sewage System, AC & Heating to all buildings.
Basic Pollution Scrubber [Free] - This pulls all incidental contamination out of the atmosphere of your Sphere.
Rope Ladders [Free] - Extends off the bottom of all your islands so you can climb up.
Biosphere - The Huge Island [90/710 CP]
Your Island is now 64km in diameter / 3,217 km2 in area. The thickness increases to 1600-2000 meters. Your World expands to contain this respectably sized landmass.
Biosphere - Double Archipeligo [150/560 CP]
You really like land, don’t you? Okay, just for you. You now have 2 Secondary Islands, 3 Tertiary Islands, 4 Quaternary Islands, and so on. You may also have up to 200 smaller islands that may not exceed 4 m across. This doubles the size of your World one last time.
note: each island is 1/4th the diameter of the last. If your main island is 256 km across, your other islands will be 64 km, 16 km, 4 km, 1 km, 250 m, 62.5 m, 15.6 m.
Biosphere - Snowball in Hell [20/540 CP]
The thickness of your Shell is now 4 km in all directions.
Biosphere - The Ocean Not So Deep [50/490 CP]
Instead of just being surrounded by air, your Island is surrounded by water. This water is freshwater and drops down to the bottom of your island, but only has a seafloor for the first 100 meters in all directions. It does not have tides or waves and has no flora or fauna. This ocean extends out to within 1km of the walls of your sphere, including down. Requires at least Snowball in Hell.
Biosphere - The Seafloor [20/470 CP]
The ocean around your islands now has a seafloor that extends out as far as your ocean does. It gets progressively deeper the further from land it is, down to within 200 meters of the bottom of your thickest island. Requires The Ocean Not So Deep.
Biosphere - Ocean Life [20/450 CP]
Your ocean now teams with freshwater plants and fish, shellfish, and bivalves. Nothing poisonous or dangerous exists in this environment naturally, but you could import it if you like. There are no marine mammals, but you could bring those in too if you like. The native species are self replicating, even if fished to extinction. Requires The Seafloor.
Biosphere - Weatherworks [15/435 CP]
Want to do a spot of sailing or just like a breeze? This machine makes the wind blow. There are now heavy updrafts for you hang-gliders. There are now big white fluffy clouds floating around inside your Biosphere. You have complete control over weather if you have the Observation Deck.
Biosphere - Season Simulator [10/425 CP]
Like variation? Now you can set the seasons to cycle anywhere from once a day to once a century. Don’t like Winter? Skip it! Want to make up your own seasons? Cool! Requires Weatherworks & Day Cycler.
Biosphere - Climatology [10/415 CP]
Now you can designate latitudes inside your sphere where the climate varies, either arctic at the center and tropical at the edges or vis versa. Need not be that extreme. Requires Season Simulator.
Biosphere - Terrain Modification Engine [40/375 CP]
All the flat getting to you? This machine can raise hills or create valleys or rivers or any other terrain features you might want within your Biosphere. You could even make mountains that tower up to 30 km high if your Sphere is big enough. Terrain features rise or fall no more than 1 meter per 24 hours. High mountains will develope snow caps if you have the Weatherworks and Oceans.
Biosphere - Floral Universe Creation Kit [20/355 CP]
All the endless grass getting to you? This machine can create forests, jungles, savannahs… you name it. Plants grown with this machine grow 1 meter per day and each machine can create up to 5,000 cubic meters of living plant matter every day. This system can generate 10,000 different species of plant and adding a new one simply requires a genetic sample. Only natural plants can be generated. The machine can be removed from your Biosphere for up to 7 days before needing 28 to recharge.
Biosphere - Small Fauna Generator [25/330 CP]
Want some chipmunks, birds, butterflies, bees? Nothing this machine generates is overly dangerous or a pest species, and the system automatically keeps everything in check, even if you’re a dick to nature. Each Generator can produce and maintain up to 500 species of small (5kg or smaller) animal life, both terrestrial and aquatic. Each machine can create up to 5,000 kg of animal life per day. To add a species to this machine’s databank, you must have at least 50 different genetic samples of that species. Only natural animals can be generated.
Biosphere - Big Fauna Generator [50/280 CP]
Want some more… aggressive or majestic species? Or just some sheep or cows or piggies? This is for you. Each machine can generate and maintain up to 50 species of large (500kg or smaller) animal life, both terrestrial and aquatic. Animals made by this machine will not be hostile, but can be dangerous if provoked. Each machine can create up to 5,000 kg of animal life per day. You will need to acquire at least 50 different genetic samples from the same species for this machine to add it to its databank. Only natural animals can be generated.
Biosphere - Celestial Bodies [5/275 CP]
Suns, Moons, Stars, Rings, Comets, Meteor Showers, Other Planets? You name it, all of them can progress across your fake sky. They’re just images, but comforting ones. You have full control of them.
Biosphere - Transport Disks [20/255 CP]
These disk platforms are all over your Biosphere. Each one can carry a person at 10km/h to anywhere within the sphere and each can carry up to 750kg. THey can be programmed to follow you around and there is even a Transport Disk launch station at the very bottom of the sphere in case someone gets stuck down there. Biosphere - Industrial Disks [10/245 CP]
Removes the weight limits from Transport Disks.
Biosphere - Airport & Marina [20/225 CP]
Not only does this give you a place to store, maintenance, and launch all your watercraft and aircraft, it also allows you to generate a world rift that allows you to bring them into or out of whatever world you happen to be visiting.
Biosphere - Observation Deck [25/200 CP]
This structure is at the top of the Sphere and allows you to look down upon all your creation, like some kind of god. If you have controls, they can be accessed from here instead of from the warehouse. You can even move your bedroom up here. Only you and those you invite can enter.
Biosphere - Restricted Zones [25/175 CP]
You get to set areas of the Biosphere (like the warehouse) off limits to some people. Like keeping kids out of the arsenal… or your friend who’s on a diet out of the fridge.
Biosphere - Hydrogeology [20/155 CP]
Your islands now have a complete hydrogeological cycle, meaning that water, in the form of cold, freshwater springs, will form on all your islands, providing rivers and ponds as appropriate.
Biosphere - Farming Zone x6 [30/125 CP]
Farms for your Farming Needs. Covers 20 hectares initially, but can be purchased multiple times, doubling the farming area each time. The soil is always perfect for whatever crops you plant in it. (total 640 hectares: 1581 acres / 6.4 sqkm)
Biosphere - Freestanding Buildings [10/115 CP]
Each of the various add-ons to your Warehouse now are freestanding, forming a nice compound, or spread out across your entire domain.
Biosphere - Industrial Plant [100/15 CP]
Your Biosphere includes a complete factory system, including advanced Atmospheric and Hydrological Pollution Scrubbing. You'll have to find someone to do the actual production, or find robots. It is the size of Detroit and automatically up to whatever tech-level your science has reached.
Biosphere - X - Spaceport [15/0 CP]
I just made this up, it's not in the doc, but this seems reasonable. Requires Airport & Marina and sufficient space

Since people liked me ranking the faction knight sets, I thought I’d come back and rank all types of knight sets present in the game. I managed to find 28 in my own stock and the wiki and was able to test out a majority of them in combat. So let’s see which fan favorites and slept on get swept under the rug or come out on top.
Now obviously heavy knight/endgame sets will have a blatant advantage over others so I will emphasize what I think is the best early to mid game armor set (start to when you first enter Leyndell Royal Capital) around when we reach the top 12. I’m judging based off weight and all defense stats and only, immunity, robustness, and poise. So let’s dive right in!
28: The Zamor Knight Set
Now when it comes to rankings like these there’s always gonna be the objective worst set, and here it’s so obvious it kind of hurts. Zamor knight set is the armor you wear if you wanted to dual wield two colossal weapons and that’s pretty much it. It ranks dead last consistently in everything and has solid robust resistance and that’s about it. Being the lightest armor basically means you can live out your fantasy of wielding the greatsword and the fingerprint shield at the same time and not heavy roll. Other than that, it’s just worth having in your inventory.
27: The Drake Knight Armor
What is with this game and having a lot of endgame armor just outright suck. Don’t get me wrong, ranking this by drip, it’s incredible. But holy cow is almost as bad viably as Zamor. The only thing this armor has going for it is its weight and truly that’s it. I was almost tempted to rank it last because at least Zamor is alright with Frost resist. However Drake still at least outperforms it almost everywhere else so putting Zamor ahead doesn’t really feel right.
26: The Carian Knight Armor
I want to meet the guy who designed the stats for this set because whoever did absolutely does not like Carian’s lmao. For some bizarre reason it mirrors the faction knight sets in a lot of it’s numbers but is always one decimal off for every stat. Making this objectively worse than all of them. It’s got solid magic and fire resist but as I’m saying that, you might as well just go for the Cuckoo knight set which is basically the direct upgrade.
25: The Bloodhound Knight Armor
This one kinda hurts me, hands down the most unique set of the bunch and the lore of these guys is cool as shit. But everything about this one is just kinda meh for defense. It’s not last in a lot like the other 3 but it doesn’t exactly have an exact niche situation you can use like the Carian and Zamor. It does boast pierce defense but it’s kinda the average anyways. As far as drip armor goes you can certainly do worse when it comes to stats.
24: The Eccentric Knight Armor
You get this set after killing Jerren either in Sellen’s hideaway or invading him and as far as side quest rewards go. Meh. At the point in time you’ll probably get this set, you’ll probably come across better sets. It does have better stats than a majority of the sets we’ve just talked about but all but the Carian you have to go out of your way to get like this one vs others that are not only better stat wise but easier to find, leaving you with no reason to really wear it outside of drip.
23: The Standard Knight Armor
Ah the infamous set many players put on to face Margit and Godrick. And for good reason because it is the perfect set for the beginning of the game…..afterwards this set falls of hard. Technically in regards to **EARLY, early game this is about the best you can get save for a few if you have the patience to farm them. It is the perfect definition of average, average defense, average resist, it is pretty close to the median when putting all the sets stats against each other. But once you claim your first great run, it’s probably best you set your sights on an upgrade as the new enemy types and damage will punish hard if you stick with this. But for the very start, it’s hard to say no.
22: The Fingerprint Knight Armor
Definitely up there as one of my favorite sets look wise. Definitely one of the weaker ones stat wise. It’s got some things going for it. It’s fire defense and robustness are really solid all things considered but apart from that it’s very similar to the standard knight armor. I also find it peculiar that Vyke known for his relationship with Lannsseax and lightning incantations has the second worst lightning defense of all of them. I get the fire defense and robust being as high as it is but not that.
21: The Briar Knight Armor
One of the champion sets you can get after defeating great enemies. And when it comes to knight’s it is by far the weakest one. That sounds harsh because what ya see is what ya get. For a heavier weight than all the sets we’ve talked about you get mildly better stats than all of em. But where it surprisingly seems to shine is having the best robustness of any medium weight armor. So if ya need to hit an enemy hard and are worried about frost or bleed, this might be your best bet
20: The Vagabond Knight Armor
The biggest lie Elden Ring tells you is that the standard knight’s set is better than the starter class one. Like I said in regards to Limgrave and Stormveil, the standard does indeed reign supreme. But in the long run, the vagabond set does seem to outclass it as you move along when coming across enemies with weapons and combos that inflict more than one type of damage and build up. So while yes for innate physical damage the standard is supreme. It won’t hold out when the game decides to add more later on
19: The Haligtree Knight Armor
I’ve already talked about the faction knights sets in the past so here’s the quick notes version. Some stats are really good for a medium weight armor and some are just outright abysmal. It’s a set that’s so all over the place with it’s only true talent being it’s holy defense. Other than that, you have no reason to not put on the other faction sets
18: The Redmane Knight Armor
Initially this is what I considered to be the worst faction knight set. But upon closer inspection, I gotta say it outclasses the Haligtree by a hair. Aside from Holy it does better in every other type of elemental damage, the Haligtree has the worst poise of any faction knight. So in the field surprisingly so the Redmane set does indeed outclass by just a tiny bit
17: The Cuckoo Knight Armor
When it comes to pure magic defense, you won’t find a medium armor better than this one. Boasting the highest second to Carian while not compromising on other stats like the other two faction and Carian sets do. And given magic enemy abundance in Elden Ring, this one can stick around a lot longer than the other two
16: The Mausoleum Knight Armor
Man if this had a helmet I would call this the best faction knight set. But alas I cannot. Sure the lack of a helmet makes for a lighter load, but it also opens you up to a lot more hp and posture damage than all the others combined. Now obviously in game you’d remedy this by attaching a helmet but I’m talking the pure sets themselves without modification. So I can’t exactly rank this higher despite it’s amazing medium armor stats
15: The Leyndell Knight Armor
This one has definitely risen since I ranked the faction sets, carrying a lot of the highs of the Haligtree set with only a few lows and carrying solid lightning defense. The best of the faction knight’s in fact and rivals a few of the heavy armors. If you really need the lightning defense boost, this is the one
14: The Godrick Knight Armor
Technically the best knight set you can get the earliest. You just have to have the skill and patience to farm the same enemy several dozen times. Because it’s physical defense compared to weight is one of the best you can get out of all of these. Only faltering in fire but that’s not the worst thing. This armor can easily carry you through the entire game but if you’re willing to go through some extra trouble there is one mid game armor better than this
13: The Gelmir Knight Armor
This one’s the complete package, it keeps all of Godrick Knight’s great physical while improving it’s elemental defense. On all objective measures it is the best faction knight set and is the best early-mid game medium knight set you can get in the game
12: The Night’s Cavalry Armor
However the overall best medium armor set you can get in Elden Ring is the Night’s Cavalry set. To the point where it kinda borders on just being the weakest heavy. Taking every strength from the faction knight sets and combining them into this ultimate result
11: The Cleanrot Knight Armor
We’ve now entered the Heavy Armor section of the list where all these armors are just objectively better than anything we’ve discussed so far and the only thing this comes down to is weight requirements. And Cleanrot is definitely the weakest of the bunch but does have some surprising strengths namely in it’s pierce defense and very high immunity making this ideal for mob clearing especially in the Haligtree and Caelid
10: The Crucible Tree Knight Armor
This is a weird one to talk about since these two sets share gauntlets and boots. So going off just the helmet and armor. The tree knight is slightly weaker than it’s axe variant. It’s clear strength is having the highest holy damage of any knight armor in the game bar none. Making this the ideal set to go with for the final boss. While still having solid physical defense. Although having a surprising weakness to fire damage (I mean it is a tree) but it is definitely a holy damage go to
9: The Crucible Axe Knight Armor
First off why in the hell is it called the Axe knight; any lore experts explain this part to me? Basically the only reason this thing excels over the tree variant is because it also has strong holy defense and doesn’t stink at fire.
That’s all
8: The Royal Knight Armor
Best Magical defense knight set in the game. It isn’t just oh it’s good for a knight set. It’s just flat out great for magical enemies. I will say it does struggle with mediocre robustness and especially poise given it’s a heavy set. But I think the trade off is pretty obvious here and worth it.
7: The Draconic Tree Sentinel Knight Armor
Imagine being known for lightning and you still don’t have the best lightning defense. Okay that’s mean, so while it doesn’t have the highest, it at least has the second highest and perhaps that’s better given which set does have the #1 spot in that regard. It’s definitely one of the more well rounded sets and doesn’t really struggle anywhere making this one of the better armors to main when just exploring.
6: The Scaled Knight Armor
Technically speaking this is the best mid game knight armor you can find, the only catch is by the time you find it, you’ll probably be heavy rolling it just with the armor alone, so Gelmir is still probably your best bet for the mid game. But if you’re a complete psychopath who only leveled endurance and uses the great jar talisman. Then this is the best mid game armor.
5: The Beast Champion’s Knight Armor
The top 5 are just flat out some of the best armor you can get in the game, most of which are locked behind tedious farming or very tough traversal/fights. Recusant Bernhal’s armor. Having one of the most well-rounded physical defense of any set regardless of knight. Strong immunity and robustness. And elemental damage not too far behind, it’s one of the best armors you can get. If you can defeat his bs invasion that is.
4: The Bull-Goat Knight Armor
Technically speaking, this is the best armor in the game purely on defense. It ranks number 1 in like half of the defenses, and even at it’s worst it is still top 5 in the game. However one thing hold it’s back from being the number one knight set in Elden Ring. That being its weight. Weighing nearly 40lb’s this armor is reserved for very late game, post game and arguably just NG+. Because with 60 Endurance you will still be medium rolling this just on the armor by itself. That’s not adding the talismans you’ll be using, and the various weapons. It’s why you never see invaders and coop users wearing this full set because it’s just not worth it because it severely limits your weapon options. What good is the best defense if you can’t even put on an offense. But if you can manage with this weight and have an ideal light weight weapon. Then yeah this is the best armor.
3: The Banished Knight’s Armor
One of the most annoying to get in it’s peak form. The unaltered Banished Knight set offers some of the best bang for you buck defense to weight. Having only the 4^th heaviest weight of the knight armors and consistently ranking in the top 3 for all stats and being the best for Slash. It’s one of the best sets to fully main all it’s components, whereas the top 2 often see more customization, but are objectively better and more feasible to pull of if you’re willing to put in the work.
2: The Tree Sentinel Knight’s Armor
Ironic the first knight you see is one of the best armors period. Having the best elemental defense of any Knight’s set ranking exclusively number one with fire. And number 2 in the rest. The physical defense is also rock solid. It’s the godrick knight of heavy armor. Master of none.
1: The Lionel’s Knight Armor
Don’t act surprised, everyone wears this armor at some point when they think the damage is what’s causing them to die so much to this boss. And Y’know what they’re probably right. The best physical defense and second highest elemental defense of any armor. Capping the stat at 99 for robustness on it’s armor. This is the armor you wear after being all about drip until you reach Malenia and Radagon. It’s just lying around in Leyndell so you don’t even need to go through the bs that is farming or questing. Underwhelming result but it is indeed the best knight armor in all of Elden Ring.

To preface this is a narrative of the fallout lore both established in all the fallout games and many of the popular mods created for both new Vegas, fallout 3 and fallout 4 and a subsequent idea for a fallout 5 title that I wrote and wanted to get opinions on.
If you think this is cool lmk, if you think this sucks lmk. I’m just interested in sharing my own ideas with the wider fallout community.

 From Lone-wanderer to the courier (TTW tie in) 

After the events of Fallout 3, the Lone Wanderer, having no family and no place left to truly call home, gathered up his companions and headed west to start a new life. Over the next 4 years, the Lone Wanderer lived in the west with many of his former companions going their separate ways. The Lone Wanderer began working as a courier, known as Courier 6. There, he had a particularly bad run-in with a man named Benny, who introduced him to a bullet. The damage done to the Lone Wanderer caused him to lose his memories of his past. Thus, he became the courier.
After the events of Fallout: New Vegas, and the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the NCR's military and infrastructure were severely weakened after destroying the Legion. Sensing an opportunity for mutual benefit the West Coast Brotherhood of Steel reached out to the Mojave chapter, where, under the leadership of Elder McNamera, the NCR and Brotherhood reached an agreement and official peace pact between the two groups, which culminated in the brotherhood becoming an official autonomous part of the NCR.
The West Coast Airship docks within the Strip, which was under the control of the Courier and member of the Mojave chapter. The West Coast reintegrated the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel and uses the Strip as a base of operations. Leveraging their advanced technology and military prowess, they quickly gain the upper hand in engagements against the remaining enemies of the NCR.

 The Coming Storm (Dust tie in) 

Some time after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam and the BOS occupation of the strip joint expedition teams of the BOS AND NCR discovered the Sierra Madre Casino, as well as the mysterious and deadly cloud. The NCR and BOS scientists conducted experiments with the Cloud, bringing both massive samples of Cloud Residue and corpses of Ghost People back to the Mojave. Many of these experiments were conducted in a makeshift laboratory set up in the lobby of the Lucky 38 casino. Though the full nature of the experiments are unknown, it is implied that the participants involved were considered criminals to the NCR and the nature of the experiments were brutal, sadistic, and inhumane.
Around the same time, the BOS received reports that a massive sandstorm was approaching New Vegas. They did not share this information with the public, and instead began to outline evacuation procedures.
Five years after the expedition and experiments something went terribly wrong. It is implied that a disgruntled Vault 21 custodian may have intentionally sabotaged the Lucky 38 laboratory, causing a new Cloud to form over the Strip. This cloud was far more lethal and corrosive than the Cloud of the Sierra Madre. The corrosive capabilities even hindered the BOS power armor as the metal would be gradually eaten away by the cloud.
As the Cloud descended upon New Vegas, panic engulfed the Strip and Freeside. Riots and violence broke out. Miss communications between the directives of the BOS and NCR resulted in troopers executing innocent civilians in the streets. In response, the Kings rebelled against the NCR, while also aiding in an evacuation of Freeside, saving countless lives. The Followers of the Apocalypse were forced to abandon the Old Mormon Fort. The Airship of the Western Brotherhood attempted to evacuate all BOS personnel and any relevant technology from the strip before returning to Lost Hills. This resulted in some squads of the BOS being forced to take up residency within the casinos of the strip and vault 21. The NCR locked the gates to the Strip, with all civilians inside. The rebels led by the kings were forced out of and under the city, to the Sewers below. The BOS left in Vault 21 have been desperately trying to chisel away at the concrete within the vault in the hopes of tunneling back to Hidden valley.
NCR troops then dumped radioactive waste into the Sewers to kill any survivors, before fleeing the city themselves. Eventually, the situation became so bad that NCR General Lee Oliver ordered an evacuation of all NCR personnel from New Vegas via the Strip Monorail.
These events nullified the BOS and NCR treaty resulting in BOS forces seizing locations across the Mojave that had the capability to keep them safe from the cloud while also engaging in Guerilla warfare tactics against the NCR.
The city would ultimately fall to the Cloud and to the dust storms that blew in from the West. While some survivors attempted to take shelter in the Strip's casinos they were met with the business ends of BOS laser rifles. Those who did not head for the casinos were not so lucky, as anyone who wasn’t immediately killed by the Cloud became Ghosts and cloud victims, while others died slowly of radiation poisoning and exposure.
While New Vegas fell to the Cloud, a massive radioactive dust storm engulfed the rest of the Mojave Wasteland, causing widespread devastation. Whole settlements and towns were evacuated or otherwise destroyed. One settlement in particular, Goodsprings, was struck by an unknown form of plague, killing most of its residents and turning the once-prosperous community into a Ghost Towns.
Other areas, such as Boulder City, attempted to protect themselves with the same suits worn by Ghost people in Vegas and the Sierra Madre, ultimately becoming trapped themselves. To make matters worse, the Tunnelers from the Divide eventually burrowed through to the Mojave Wasteland, As predicted by Ulysses. causing even more death and destruction. The dust storms blotted out the Sun, allowing the Tunnelers to hunt by day, killing off most of the native animal population in the Mojave.
The effects of the Fall would spread as far out as Zion Valley, where spore carriers from Vault 22 ran wild, alongside another strange, terrible creature, dubbed the Wendigo by the tribals within the valley.
After the fall, little remained of the old Mojave Wasteland. Once-powerful factions such as, The Great Khans, and Powder Gangers were either wiped out or dissolved into roaming gangs of Tribals and Survivors. The Western Brotherhood which had resided in the strips cohesion collapsed as its members lost contact with the surrounding Casinos and vault 21.
Cannibalism became rampant, as people did whatever they could to survive. The NCR remained in control of various locations such as Camp Golf, Hoover Dam, Camp McCarran and Nellis AFB. Those fortunate enough to evacuate the Mojave mostly wound up at Camp Adytum, an NCFollowers refugee center in the Boneyard, however they were quickly drafted and sent to the now ongoing BOS and NCR conflict.
The NCR would eventually launch expeditions into the ruins of New Vegas, presumably to acquire materials left over from the Lucky 38 laboratories. However, none of these expeditions were successful, and the NCR soon abandoned all attempts to return to New Vegas, with only the Royst-Bernard Expedition consisting of rogue NCR scientific and military personnel returning in an attempt to succeed, where regular NCR failed.

 The Patriot at Heart (America Rising 2 tie-in) 

In the aftermath of the events of Fallout 3, the remnants of the Enclave fled north into the Commonwealth where they waited in hiding for 10 years. After the events of Fallout 4, the Lone Survivor helped revive the Enclave and ultimately forced the Institute into being folded into the Enclave, bringing their advanced technology and expertise in synth creation under one banner.
The Enclave embarked on a bold experiment, merging their iconic power armor technology with the synthetic advancements of the Institute. The result was the creation of a new breed of soldiers: Power Armored Synths or PAS.
These hybrid warriors combined the resilience and strength of power armor with the versatility and adaptability of synthetic intelligence. Clad in imposing power armor suits, these Synths were capable of executing complex military maneuvers, engaging enemies with precision and force.
Under the banner of the Enclave, this new army of PAS’s became the vanguard of their expansionist ambitions, striking fear into the hearts of any who knew of their existence. The Enclave took a page from the Institute by beginning to kidnap high-ranking members of the Railroad, Brotherhood of Steel, and Minutemen, replacing them with Synth sleeper agents who would corrupt the organization of the Commonwealth and East Coast Brotherhood to weaken them for an Enclave assault. This culminated in the Enclave assault on the Prydwen, forcing Elder Maxson to retreat back to the Capital Wasteland.

 Fallout 5: Tactics 

The year is 2300, 13 years after the events of Fallout 4.
A squad of the Chicago-based Midwest Brotherhood intercepts a transmission from the East Coast Brotherhood, calling for aid from the West Coast Brotherhood in a last-ditch effort to defend the Capital Wasteland from the Commonwealth-based Enclave assault.
Our character, a Midwest Brotherhood Paladin dubbed the Major, must traverse the Midwest, gaining new allies and attempting to mend the fractured Midwest Brotherhood to aid in the coming conflict. Our character must also fix up a convoy to traverse the wasteland of the Midwest in order to make it to the East Coast. Various quests and side quests will provide the character with allies and further supplies for the coming conflict and further cement the Midwest Brotherhood's position within the region.
Once the player believes they have gathered their small army sufficiently and created their convoy, they embark on a journey towards the East. Along the way, they are intercepted by Enclave and Super Mutant forces. Upon entering into the Capital Wasteland, the general's forces link up with what’s left of the East Coast Brotherhood who have been hiding out in Rockopolis after the Citadel was infiltrated and taken over by the Enclave. DC now acts as the front lines of a war yet again between the Enclave, Brotherhood, and a new faction in the wasteland called the Behemoths, an organized and somewhat intelligent super mutant group led by an intelligent mutant named Osiris, who was once a member of the Master's army. Osiris united the D.C. Mutants and launched his own series of attacks on the Brotherhood when the Enclave took hold of the Citadel.
Along the way, we meet a one-armed Three Dog who barely survived the Enclave bombing of the GNR building but has since set up shop in Broadcast Tower KTB with a small contingent of Brotherhood Paladins who aided against the Enclave, rescuing Three Dog.
As the Major and the elders plot out a plan to assault the Enclave at the Citadel.
Mid west Factions: 1. Brotherhood of Steel (Midwest Chapter): - The player's faction, focused on preserving pre-war technology and knowledge. - Known for their advanced technology and power armor. - Initially, they prioritize their interests but may assist others if it aligns with their goals.

1. Midwest Brotherhood Outcasts:
   
   • A splinter faction of the Brotherhood of Steel, formed due to disagreements over the main Brotherhood's leadership or ideologies.
   • They may possess similar technology and resources as the main Brotherhood but operate independently, sometimes in opposition to their parent faction.
2. Reavers:
   
   • A ruthless raider group terrorizing the Midwest wasteland.
   • Known for their brutality and willingness to pillage and plunder.
   • Considered a major threat to the stability of the region, often in conflict with other factions.
3. The Vikings:
   
   • A raider group modeled after the historical Vikings (with a mixture of the football Minnesota Vikings.)
4. Gammorin's Army Remnants:
   
   • A militant faction once led by the super mutant Gammorin.
   • Composed primarily of super mutants, they seek to establish dominance over the wasteland through force.
   • Viewed as a formidable enemy by other factions due to their strength and aggression.
5. Vault 0:
   
   • A vault inhabited by a powerful supercomputer known as the Calculator.
   • The Calculator once sought to expand its influence and control over the wasteland, posing a significant threat to other factions; however, it was reprogrammed by someone named the Warrior in the year 2197. This effectively deactivated and left the army of robots dormant and sealed away within Vault 0. Their advanced technology and military capabilities make them a formidable adversary and an equally valuable ally if they can only be reactivated and reprogrammed.
6. Tribal Communities:
   
   • Various tribes and communities scattered throughout the Midwest wasteland.
   • They may have their own customs, traditions, and conflicts.
   • Depending on the player's actions, they could become allies, enemies, or neutral parties.

As the player ventures further into the capital wasteland they find that it is now far greener than in the past and wild punga fruit now can be found around the wastes, if the player makes a detour to oasis they will find that Harold has rapidly grown and from the Potomac River (death law sanctuary) in the west to temple of the union in the east is now a lush paradise (that is if it weren’t for all the deathclaws and raiders who stalk the forest.) As Harold/Bob spread, the brotherhood eventually sent out missions to learn more about it, after encountering Linden, they made a formal treaty with the poplars, in which the poplars were given water in exchange for the fresh fruit from the oasis. The brotherhood also helped encourage the trade of Punga with the Poplars to be grown within the oasis to help aid soil development and remove radiation. The poplars now tend the forest and have become somewhat of a nature inspired farming/fire fighting force, having a couple of villages throughout the forest network. However raider gangs also set fire to the trees, (if the player investigates they’ll find out that the enclave is paying the raiders to burn the trees and fight their way in to help destabilize the brotherhoods food supply and trade routes)
If the player chooses to side with the poplars/ Brotherhood the trees will continue to spread at a rate of 1 mile for every 24 real world hours that pass in game.
If the player helps the enclave they will be tasked with infiltrating the original Oasis and burning Harold alive, and the trees will dwindle at the same rate until the oasis is fully gone.

sVanilla Survival: The Original SMP Experience for java & bedrock geyser.
IP: corn.gg
Region: USA East
sVanilla Survival goes back to the roots of what an SMP should be. Semi Vanilla, with a few quality of life additions. We're dedicated to providing the old-school SMP experience, with a large map that never resets, no land claims, and most importantly - crystal free PvP.
So why choose sVanilla Survival?

• Survive & Thrive: On sVanilla we favor the ability of players to have freedom in how they play the game. While we do not allow hacked clients; You are free to explore the world, build extravagant builds, or simply destroy & conquer. Only the strong survive on sVanilla.
  
• Melee Based PVP: We believe that the current PvP meta is a detriment to the survival experience. With this in mind, crystal PvP has been disabled in favor of swords, axes, and bows.
  
• Quality of Life: While we love vanilla, we also understand the need for a few tweaks. We've implemented a few quality-of-life modifications to enhance gameplay without deviating from the authentic feel. Teleport, Ignore & Sethome commands are provided for convenience.
  
• Bartering Economy: There are no economy plugins, the server economy is based on trading with other players.
  
• Boundless Exploration: With no land claims and a modest 300k world border, feel free to explore any corner of the map as you wish and lay claim as you see fit.
  
• Permanent Legacy: Our map is permanent and will never reset, so the monuments you build today will stand as a testament to your creativity for years to come.
  
• TNT Duplication: Piston and slime based TNT dupers are enabled, which means you can build tree farms with ease or even create tnt machines of destruction.
  

Join sVanilla Survival and be a part of a community that honors the tradition of survival multiplayer. Welcome to sVanilla & enjoy your minecraft!

sVanilla Survival: The Original SMP Experience for java & bedrock geyser.
IP: corn.gg
Region: USA East
sVanilla Survival goes back to the roots of what an SMP should be. Semi Vanilla, with a few quality of life additions. We're dedicated to providing the old-school SMP experience, with a large map that never resets, no land claims, and most importantly - crystal free PvP.
So why choose sVanilla Survival?

• Survive & Thrive: On sVanilla we favor the ability of players to have freedom in how they play the game. While we do not allow hacked clients; You are free to explore the world, build extravagant builds, or simply destroy & conquer. Only the strong survive on sVanilla.
  
• Melee Based PVP: We believe that the current PvP meta is a detriment to the survival experience. With this in mind, crystal PvP has been disabled in favor of swords, axes, and bows.
  
• Quality of Life: While we love vanilla, we also understand the need for a few tweaks. We've implemented a few quality-of-life modifications to enhance gameplay without deviating from the authentic feel. Teleport, Ignore & Sethome commands are provided for convenience.
  
• Bartering Economy: There are no economy plugins, the server economy is based on trading with other players.
  
• Boundless Exploration: With no land claims and a modest 300k world border, feel free to explore any corner of the map as you wish and lay claim as you see fit.
  
• Permanent Legacy: Our map is permanent and will never reset, so the monuments you build today will stand as a testament to your creativity for years to come.
  
• TNT Duplication: Piston and slime based TNT dupers are enabled, which means you can build tree farms with ease or even create tnt machines of destruction.
  

Join sVanilla Survival and be a part of a community that honors the tradition of survival multiplayer. Welcome to sVanilla & enjoy your minecraft!

I was on someone’s farm fixing some trees(not a neighbor, just someone from the paper), and in front of the newspaper mailbox I briefly saw a message board with three pieces of paper on it, but as soon as I noticed it, it faded away. Has anyone else seen this or have I lost my mind!?

These are the questions we have been trying to answer ever since we as a species first evolved the ability to ask such questions.
Let us first briefly consider our ability to voice those questions and how is it we can formulate any questions at all. There has been some discussion recently on how we in essence 'hallucinate' our reality. While this is true to a large degree, it would be more accurate to say that we 'read' our reality. We process the stimulus we receive from external world and then transform it into language through the neural dynamics found in our cortical thalamic complex.
As we develop and mature our cortical/thalamic complex gradually creates a VR type experience for our consciousness, so gradually we no longer see what arrives at our eyes but rather is what is constructed from the direct sensory experience in the occipital lobe of the cortex - our visual center. By the time we are adults our awareness can no longer directly perceive the external world. It can only see and hear the reprocessed reality as it is reconstructed from direct sensory stimulus, in our cortex. As adults we never see the outside world. We don't see the mountain. We only see the image of a mountain created in our visual cortex. Only when we encounter something that cannot be fit into any existing linguistic category do we see it before filtering and reconstruction within cortical visual centers.
We linguistically interpret and assign meaning to raw stimulus within our cortex which determines our subsequent response and behaviors. Under normal conditions if what we are experiencing cannot be translated into our existing vocabulary then we cannot act coherently and we will either freeze up or become completely uninhibited and out of control. The parsing of external reality into language is a reflex and it is normally beyond our ability to perceive this neurological process as it is occurring.
The answers to the nature of life, why we are born and die and how we can ask such things all lead to the same place and if one question is answered then all of them will be. Therefore I will begin with the nature of life itself. I will use one of the tools that western science adopted early in its history and that is dissection. Lets first dissect life and look at it in the detail that has been revealed throughout the hundreds of years we have been using this tool.
The first medical dissections were performed at the University of Salerno in about the 12 century. Now all these years later we have dissected much and we now have little pieces of everything lying around everywhere. Now we are dissecting some very large things and some very small things. Dissection reveals information contained or hidden beneath the perceptual paywall of physical boundaries like the biological membrane of the cell, or an organ like our skin or the boundaries of the earths gravity. What we see in the modern world is the result of centuries of dissection and reassembly.
Now after all the thousands of years of humans history there is one item that has been produced more times than any other single thing made by humans and their ancestors...transistors. Most people have no idea what this item is or how it works yet humans have made more of it than anything else by orders of magnitude. These things also require more electrical energy than anything else ever mass produced by humans to perform their function as intended. This is a result of a history of dissection and reassembly without any underlying worldview or morality to guide the technological exploitation of the discoveries uncovered through the process of dissection and analysis.
Now at the pinnacle of our evolution we have completely remade ourselves and the world and the results appear to be anything but enlightening and emancipating. We have server farms that are using the energy of a small city and space tourism is well on its way. Unfortunately during our history of dissection we have ignored certain things discovered that do not support the underlying ideology motivating our technological innovations. The problem hasn't been in the scientific process but in what aspects of what we have discovered that have been followed up and not relegated to the the dark shelves of history and ignored. Our cultures idea of progress and evolution as a driving force of nature may be entirely misplaced and as 'superstitious' as any of the other antiquated views our culture has abandoned and transcended along the way.

The long delay in accepting the evidence of developmental neuronal death has been regarded as an historical enigma. Here is how the puzzle may now be solved.
Nineteenth-century biologists saw that development has an overriding telos, a direction and a gradual approach to completion of the embryo, and also saw a terminal regression and final dissolution of the adult; but a fallacy arose when the progression and regression, which coexist from early development, were separated in their minds.
Development was conceived in terms of progressive construction, of an epigenetic program—from simple to more complex. For every event in development they attempted to find prior conditions such that, given them, nothing else could happen.
The connections and interdependencies of events assure that the outcome is always the same. Such deterministic theories of development made it difficult to conceive of demolition of structures as part of normal development, and it was inconceivable that construction and destruction can occur simultaneously. It became necessary to regard regressive developmental processes as entirely purposeful and determined. For example, elimination of organs that play a role during development but are not required in the adult or regression of vestigial structures such as the tail in humans were viewed as part of the ontogenetic recapitulation of phylogeny. Regression in those cases is determined and is merely one of several fates: cellular determination may be either progressive or regressive.
The idea of progress in all spheres, perhaps most of all in the evolution and development of the vertebrate nervous system, has appealed to many thinkers since the 18th century. Such ideas change more slowly than the means of scientific production; thus new facts are made to serve old ideas. That is why the history of ideas, even if it does not exactly repeat itself, does such a good job of imitation.
In the realm of ideas held by neuroscientists, the idea of progressive construction, of hierarchically ordered programs of development, has always been dominant over the idea of a plenitude of possibilities, from which orderly structure develops from disorderly initial conditions by a process of selective attrition.
DEVELOPMENTAL NEUROBIOLOGY Fourth Edition Edited by MAHENDRA S. RAO MD and MARCUS JACOBSON (Page 396).

How revolutionary could be the idea that there is a plenitude of possibilities, from which orderly structure develops from disorderly initial conditions by a process of selective attrition. The universe is not learning, experimenting, progressing, evolving and neither are we. The universe is already full of a 'plentitude of possibilities' and it already is what it is and is already all it will ever be... as are we. Whatever it is we think we are observing it is not progress or evolution in any sense of the word but is rather the processes of 'selective attrition'. The universe is something else much more and we are a part of it and need to look no further than within our selves since we are also part of that 'fabric' of the universe. Humans are not standing atop the pyramid of life but we are only one of many different morphological manifestations of the natural processes of 'selective attrition' which find us only different and in no way better than the other morphological and metabolic forms and components of the earths biosystem and its holobionts.
The processes of attrition affects 2 vectors in the realization of a particular existence from a plentitude of possibilities. In order for life and consciousness to exist in the earths biosystem 2 vectors must work together to maintain a fragile stasis between reoccurring periods of geological and cosmic instability. These vectors influence morphology and metabolism. Morphology is influenced and regulated by viruses and that still ill defined aspect of our biological reality they represent. Multicellular metabolism is regulated and influenced by chromosomal and nucleic genetics. When the environment changes then the viral component of the tree of life induces morphological changes in the life forms currently inhabiting the biosphere. Within the nucleus of the cell the genetic code is changed now producing biological forms that after development have the metabolism to exist in the new environment. Life consciousness has within it already all the plentitude of possibilities needed to exist in many different potential worlds and it doesn't need to evolve as it is already capable of arising in almost any conditions. Look at the many amazing ways that nature is already incorporating plastics into its ecology.
Unfortunately for us, our ill fated venture into space has triggered processes of attrition between these 2 vectors that are now adapting the morphology and metabolism of the earths biome in response to the time many of its lifeforms have already spent living in a gravity free environment. The different forms of life we have have brought too and from a gravity free environment are also changing. Switching from a model based on evolution and progress to one based on a preexisting plenitude of possibilities may affect the statistical significance of our predictive models. If we are not progressing and evolving towards something then what exactly is it we are doing with all our technologies but creating the conditions for our own morphological extinction?
The human species is an embodiment of the force of attrition in nature. As a species we have introduced a plentitude of possibilities into the biosphere by reshaping ourselves and our environment through our behaviors and in doing so we have fulfilled our biological function. The model is no longer based on the idea of progress so our behavior as a species need no longer be seen as progressive but as simply transformative. The organisms with the largest genomes are creatures like amoebas and lungfish which could be considered as very important gatekeepers and librarians of the biological information accumulated from eons of harvesting 'information' from an ever changing plentitude of biological possibilities. This information is stored within many levels of biosystem and are all connected by the viral ocean in which the overall biosystem is immersed.
It is creatures like these along with long living organisms like trees and fungi that are at the heart of the biosystem while the human species seems doomed to be little more than a brief biological storm arising and passing away in but a few minutes of geological time. We are no longer talking about a universe born from simplicity and its slow progression towards consciousness of which we are the ultimate manifestation.
Consciousness is the fundamental universal force that gives rise to the biological reality we inhabit. Most everything around us has consciousness and it flows through the underlying fabric of our existence via 'fields' generated by metabolic life, much like how electricity moves along a wire...flowing via the field surrounding the wire and not really within the wire itself. It is what is perceiving the perceptual experience created within the cartesian theatre of our human mind. It is the cortical thalamic complex that creates the unique type of perceptual experience that humans have. There is nothing unique about human consciousness only our perceptual experience. The human experience does not represent any type of progression or evolution of consciousness along an evolutionary timeline.
The only thing modern humans bring to the table is their own unique type of perceptual experience which is initiating behaviors that results in biological information that will find its way throughout the biome and will be stored for eons to come and long after we as a species are gone. The introduction of plastics into the ecology represents a new type of information that the natural biological world is already starting to use in many creative and unexpected ways.

The study of the basic philosophies or ideologies of scientists is very difficult because they are rarely articulated. They largely consist of silent assumptions that are taken so completely for granted that they are never mentioned. The historian of biology encounters some of his greatest difficulties when trying to ferret out such silent assumptions; and anyone who attempts to question these "eternal truths" encounters formidable resistance.
In biology, for hundreds of years, a belief in the inheritance of acquired characters, a belief in irresistible progress and in a scala naturae, a belief in a fundamental difference between organic beings and the inanimate world, and a belief in an essentialistic structure of the world of phenomena are only a few of the silent assumptions that influenced the progress of science. Basic ideological polarities were involved in all of the great controversies in the history of biology, indicated by such alternatives as quantity vs. quality, reduction vs. emergence, essentialism vs. population thinking, monism vs. dualism, discontinuity vs. continuity, mechanism vs. vitalism, mechanism vs. teleology, statism vs. evolutionism, and others. Lyell's resistance to evolutionism was due not only to his natural theology but also to his essentialism, which simply did not allow for a variation of species "beyond the limits of their type." Coleman (1970) has shown to what large extent Bateson's resistance to the chromosome theory of inheritance was based on ideological reasons.
One can go so far as to claim that the resistance of a scientist to a new theory almost invariably is based on ideological reasons rather than on logical reasons or objections to the evidence on which the theory is based.
The Growth of Biological Thought: Diversity, Evolution, and Inheritance ERNST MAYR(Page 835).

What do we see when we look at a lion feeding on a fresh kill that is still alive while being eaten? Or a grizzly bear keeping its prey alive for days as it eats it? How about a herd of orca's slowly killing a blue whale? We look away in horror and disgust because we have no idea what it is we are actually observing. Our everyday perceptual experience provides no insight into what is actually happening as this untamed savagery unfolds before us. We have no words for the world as it really is since we very rarely ever perceive it as it really is before being processed and recreated in the cortical thalamic complex. That is what we see and we do not see the outside world as it really is.
A lion consuming a deer is not unlike 2 galaxies colliding. When one animal eats another 2 very large populations of trillions of separate and specialized cellular organisms merge together combining all their biological information as it is being generated in real time. This biological material is processed within the lion and then the viral components and other transgenic organisms move this information between different creatures picking up bits of information and moving it around the biome to be integrated into existing info and/or stored for later retrieval and integration. Very little information is lost when the biosystem is working correctly. When it is not working properly then much information can be permanently lost very quickly. We see this as viruses mutate as they pick up new pieces as the processes of recombination unfold. In times of biological instability plagues are common as insects and rodents are very effective means of consuming this biological information before it is lost due to factors such as changing climatic conditions producing famine. The goal is not evolution or progress but the maintenance of a repository of biological information that allows the biosystem to self regulate its morphology and metabolism. If the organisms that act as gatekeepers, storehouses and librarians are lost then the whole biosystem will collapse.
It is the fundamental energy of consciousness as it 'flows' through metabolic life that powers the biosphere. Earths metabolism and morphology may not look like anything resembling how morphology and metabolism may arise elsewhere in the universe. Unusual organic molecules are being found in the atmosphere of Titan. One such molecule has only been previously found in interstellar clouds. As these molecules break down fairly quickly something must be producing or metabolizing them to maintain their presence in atmosphere. Like electromagnetism if consciousness is also a fundamental force then we can expect it to be active in many different environments.
The nature of consciousness as I am describing it gives rise to one quality that would make space travel somewhat irrelevant. This quality is also behind much of the fuss and importance that humans have made about different types of 'spiritual' experience from their earliest beginnings. Our consciousness is not attached to our own perceptual experience but can move freely between all the perceptual experiences arising anywhere in the universe right now. Every point on the torus is connected to every other point. The perceptual experience of the lion and the deer can be experienced and perceived through the shared dynamics of our own metabolic entanglements as we are all made from the same stuff. It is the 'one topology' suggested to exist in Velinde's and Hooft's model of entropic gravity and the cellular automaton. Morphology is the universal vector for perceptual experience. Metabolism is the universal vector for consciousness.
Biological organisms produce heat/entropy. Think about how significant it is that life can live in external temps well below its own internal heat. Metabolic cellular processes are producing this heat. Biological organisms are not unlike little suns with their ability to produce internal heat. Our bodies are literally made up of trillions of little suns. From metabolism/consciousness arises morphology/perceptual experience. The positive energy generated by the activities of morphological organisms, each with their own spectrum of perceptual experience, counters the negative heat energy of the many metabolic states of consciousness which permeate the universe. When an organism is producing more entropy than the system can absorb that organism is removed or reabsorbed and replaced with one whose metabolism is in balance with rest of biome. When there is too much entropy things like the 'time-reversal of a phenomenon occurring naturally' are no longer available as part of our perceptual experience or vocabulary. Invariably most spiritual practices inadvertently result in the production of less entropy or in the balancing and stabilization of existing entropic forces.
The shamans of old may of been much more in tune with things then we give them credit for. It is a shame that most of their languages and way of life are gone. Like the American Indian I hold the view that the animals and plants around us are our older brothers and sisters and we should learn from them, take our place beside them and not seek to dominate and control but to share the world with them. We have become a species of attrition and seem incapable anymore of transcending our own nature. We cannot help but destroy what we cannot dominate and now we have turned on each other as there is very little left in the natural world for us to conquer. We are no more aware of what we are doing than the couple of meteorites that changed life forever for the dinosaurs. Maybe as Emerson suggested we have learned to ride in a carriage and lost the use of our legs while our giant follows us everywhere.

I'm curious especially what you guys like around age 4. Do they start getting into books with more substantive stories and less rhyming? I'm eager to start the "read a chapter a night" phase, but that might be further down the road. We've about exhausted our library of our favorite series so I need to find some new series or one-offs to keep things fun. If I don't direct the library experience he ends up demanding whatever he sees, appropriate or not, which was fun when he wanted me to read out loud a book about what to do if the naughty uncle wants to touch you there. Knowing what's fun and good would help a lot.
Just to share back, here's some of our likes and dislikes for ages 2-3, ordered roughly from youngest to oldest.
Likes:

• Little Blue Truck, Alice Schertle: first book and well loved. Easy rhymes and easy for the kid to finish them from memory. If you're like us you were given three copies when the kid was born, along with the Very Hungry Caterpillar.
• Poppy and Sam, Complete Book of Farmyard Tales, Stephen Cartwright: very simple stories set on a small family farm.
• Elephant & Piggie, Mo Willems: Simple words in big type, with fabulously expressive characters and kid friendly humor. Always a hit. Plenty of books in the series.
• The Button Book, Sally Nicholls and Bethan Woollvin: critters explore what happens if you push a button drawn on the page, which lets kids act them out, too: beeping, singing, bouncing, hugging, tickling. Great fun.
• Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler books, like Room on the Broom, Gruffalo, Smartest Giant, Etc. Can't hardly go wrong with one of the biggest authors in the game. The audiobooks are narrated by A-listers, and the short films are very well done.
• Construction Site series, Sherri Dusky Rinker: the rhymes occasionally strain or repeat, but this series covers the names and jobs of a wide variety of industrial vehicles: on road crews, demolition teams, airports, farms, etc.
• Steam Train Dream Train, Sherri Dusky Rinker: explores all the types of wagons pulled by a train.
• Grumpy Monkey, Suzanne and Max Lang: Jim Panzee is grumpy, and honestly that’s ok. A good one for early emotions to help learn that it’s ok to be unhappy.
• The Day the Babies Crawled Away, Peggy Rathmann: Absolutely gorgeous silhouette drawings and wonderful, silly rhymes.
• Knight Owl, Christopher Denise: beautiful book about a brave owl who defends his castle by befriending the Dragon. I think it’s lovely, but the kiddo is a little too conflict averse for it.

Bit of both:

• Bluey books. They’re just the TV episodes simplified and written down. Every bit of dialogue explicitly says who spoke it, which makes the prose drab. Kid adores them though, but some (Unicourse especially) feature bad behavior he ends up modeling.

Disliked:

• Mr. Men series Roger Hargreaves: strikes me as made for an older generation - atypical behaviors are addressed with passive aggressiveness, repeated punishments, or simply exposure to “normal “ people, all of which naturally cures them.
• Antiracist Baby, Ibram X. Kendi: it’s advice for adults in the format of a baby book, and so it misses on being well suited for either.
• Love you Forever, Robert Munsch: I get that many people find it sweet, but I find it creepy AF.

Chapter 11 - Home
The ship arrives in port to songs from the Deed of Morred. A funny exchange occurs where Apple's friend Shinny (Shandy) sees Tenar on board the ship and says, "'Maybe it's his mother,'" only for Apple to say actually it is a mother (well, her's). Tenar and Therru disembark from the ship in rather royal fashion before it leaves again. Apple greets them warmly and is apparently on very familiar terms with Therru (Apple picks her up), however that night Apple is a bit apprehensive toward her mother, apparently she had never given much thought to the songs about her mom. She calls her a "'...king-kisser....'" A couple days later they all leave Apple's home and go to the farm, along the river Kaheda in the late summer. Apple comments on Therru's health and Tenar lets slip she was stronger before the incident, and then tells Apple about it (Apple is familiar with Therru's past). We find out that the one that was likely Therru's father is called Hake. In recalling Handy's motions she oddly can't remember Aspen's name except for the Kargish word for a type of tree. Apple says they haven't seen anyone from that group, and Tenar takes some joy that her daughter is mothering her mother. They consider a dog (again), though humorously Tenar is mostly thinking of a puppy for Therru (she already plays with an animal anyway, right? Well, a weird bone doll, close enough). They arrive at Lark's and it's a warm homecoming, it had apparently been two months since their departure to Ogion's. Tenar is reluctant to tell the story about their adventure but absolutely gushes about the king, says he appeared like a sword (which is actually one of his names, Arren). They talk about the king and the wizard, Shinny arrives and they have quite the supper, even Therru warms except for her keeping an eye on the window as it grew darker out.
Later, while Apple sings Therru to sleep, Tenar finally asks Shandy, who is helping wash up, about Ged (who somehow was never mentioned to Lark and Apple, all of Tenar's remembrances about Re Albi seemed to be muddled, "darkened"). Shandy says there wasn't work for him here, but that he got some on recommendation and so was off in a high pasture, maybe even herding goats, and would be back down the mountain in autumn. Maybe that was for the best, maybe this was home now and all that of Re Albi was behind them. Tenar slept that night, dreamless. Tenar keeps busy homesteading and the like, and eventually finished the red dress she had started for Therru. Therru is expressionless and turns away from it, and Tenar says, "'...People see the scars. But they see you, too, and you aren't the scars. You aren't ugly. You aren't evil. You are Therru, and beautiful....'" Therru calls the dress beautiful (touching Tenar's fingers, not the dress), and Tenar understands something, "She had done right to make the dress, and she had spoken the truth to the child. But it was not enough, the right and the truth. There was a gap, a void, a gulf, on beyond the right and the truth. Love, her love for Therru and Therru’s for her, made a bridge across that gap, a bridge of spider web, but love did not fill or close it. Nothing did that. And the child knew it better than she."
The equinox arrives, and Tenar thinks of the king being coronated, the king who knew fear and pain, and thought that Ged should be there too instead of tending some rich man's herds (and likely doing that into winter). Tenar had started to visit Ivy when she went to the village, as a sort of minor replacement to Aunty Moss, but either Ivy's ingrown detest for her was very real or, maybe just as likely, her own rebukes had left too big a void between them.
The sorcerer Beech arrives one day to treat a rich farmer's gout, and visits Tenar. Beech was a pupil of a pupil of Ogion's, and wanted to hear about his last days, as well as the visit by the archmage, Ged. Beech talks about the king's new rule and about, in particular, the loss of power of a certain lord pirate. He very much praises Tenar's work with Therru but she responds with sadness, she's worried what the fear will draw her to, that a damaged person may do damaging things. Roke seems more open-minded than most but he sees Ogion's "Teach her, not Roke" as just meaning women can't be sorcerers and he instead suggests that she take up healing witchery with Ivy as there may be a reciprocal aspect (and after all, he argues, "...healing befits a women..."). Therru's naming day is referenced, and overall Tenar views him as naive, but she does think about what Beech said.
More changes from the king, the local villages set up a taxed constabulary to combat the thieves and gangs (some rumors the pirate lords are pushing back). Tenar doesn't pay too much mind to this, but through time Therru becomes less withdrawn and is not kept so close to Tenar, she even travels independently (it is much easier with Tenar's family, friends, and acquaintances around to think Therru is safer, plus they shouldn't both just live in constant fear). Tenar is a good learner and prosperous but behind in most things, Tenar thinks of what Ogion meant by "teach her" but nothing special is done, Tenar even starts to think maybe she would be better apprenticed as a witch than a weaver (most people believe if something bad happens to you you deserved it somehow, this wouldn't matter as much to a witch as a weaver). Would all this satisfy Ogion's wishes?
Keeping this in mind, one day Tenar visits Ivy and asks the cost about apprenticing Therru. Ivy says she wouldn't for anything, that she fears her. Tenar is enraged, she even insinuates it's because of what happened to Therru beyond the burning. Ivy instead says it's because she is powerful and likely rageful, like a leashed natural disaster, something capable of darkness, and in fact Ivy draws from Tenar's own time with the Dark Ones as a child to posit that's why Tenar doesn't (or can't see to) fear her. Tenar believes everyone has failed her (Ogion, Moss, Ivy, Beech) even Ged whose "precious shame" had become his own child, Ged who was obsessed with power that that was all he noticed about Therru. Goha has a brief talk with Tenar (not the first time something like this has happened), saying that isn't fair.
Winter arrives, early, suddenly, and portentously, or at least a freeze does. Beside a fire of an apple tree Therru asks Tenar for a story which Tenar calls a "summer story", instead Therru should be learning the songs about the great deeds and the rites of spring (the Long Dance is mentioned). Therru says she can't sing but Tenar chides her: "'The mind sings. The prettiest voice in the world's no good if the mind doesn't know the songs.' She untied the last bit of yarn, which had been the first spun. 'You have strength, Therru, and strength that is ignorant is dangerous.'" Therru asks if it's like the wild ones that refused to learn and so stayed in the west, and it comes about she is referencing the dragons in the song of the Woman of Kemay (in chapter 2). Tenar asks which song Therru wants to learn and instead of the Deeds of Morred (which reminds her of the young king) Therru instead chooses about Segoy and the Making (Ogion's lore books are mentioned).
It goes well and Therru retires for the night. The song and Tenar's mood (because of Ivy) had energized Tenar to stay up by the fire. Suddenly, a noise from outside. Soon after, the sound of an opening being jimmied, but the house itself, thanks to Flint, was well-bolted. Eventually a window is broken and Tenar hears the voices of men. Her door, newly locked, rattles; it is Handy. A thin blade of light at the jamb. They will try the front door and so Tenar locks that one too. Tenar shutters Therru's window and the sound undoubtedly alerts them. She then tries to shutter her own but it is jammed, and they see Tenar through the window. Voices, that they won't hurt her if they let them in, that one of them just wants to see his little girl. Maybe Therru is awake, Tenar will protect her, though she has lost the fire poker in the scramble. One of them finds the kitchen window and Tenar flees to Therru's room, which doesn't have a lock thoughtfully so those in the nursery couldn't accidentally lock themselves in. She thinks about screaming, she think about fleeing, she grabs a butcher's knife. She throws open the door and threatens them.
"A howl and a sucking gasp", confusing communication from the men, some light. A wailing form shambles toward her, and a form with long blades behind it.
"Tenar! Tenar, it's me--Hawk, Sparrowhawk!" Ged, holding a pitchfork, thinks he has killed the man on the ground, the rest have fled. They drag the man inside, bandage him ('"I think I killed him," [Ged] said again.'), and Tenar finally gets Ged to sit by the fire. Ged looks rough. He had ran upon them on the path, avoided them due to the mob feeling off, but Ged had heard mention of the "Oak Farm" and so here he is. During the journey tracking the men Ged heard terrible things, about how Therru was stolen and how she would be punished along with what they'd do to Tenar. The bloody man isn't Handy, but it is the one who recently mentioned Therru was his. Tenar is worried they will come back, but they have the pitchfork at least, and it was only two others. They were traveling on the road (away from... something) and they were listening to the man who was lying there now, as if he'd mentioned this, about Therru and the widow, many times before (Handy apparently goaded him into trying this whole thing tonight). The group had waited in Tenar's barn until night, with Ged waiting outside it in the freezing cold. Shortly after they had spotted the kitchen window, Ged had ambushed them.
They make a sort of bed for the man, but not on the good rug. A realization about Therru. Quickly checking on her, apparently Therru had slept through the whole thing. Would've, should've... eventually Ged turns the tables and tells her to drink the tea, to rest. Ged recounts a tale, from the beginning of the first book, about the Kargish raiders (ed: the last book mentioned since the Ring was mended they don't raid anymore) and Ged/Duny thwarting their raid on Ten Alders, his village, by casting a sea of fog. One of the few not rebounded was run through with a pitchfork, Tenar saying Ged hitting the man's rib (and stopping something like that from happening) was the only thing Ged did wrong. Ged even briefly entertains the idea that the man could be disposed of, but he knows it's wrong (Tenar is less convinced). Instead, he'll use the wheelborrow and cart him to the healer, Ivy.
Tenar is beyond exhausted and watches the fire. A dream slips in, dragon-fire again. The star, Tehanu. Ged move her into the dark cold to get to her room. A dream slips in, each leading, following, both in the Tombs. "'This is the way,' she said."

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Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!

~Player always get better or cooler reward for helping other~
Player race - fiver options for customization
Ghoul
No radiation damage + slow regeneration + npc more mefiant and discrimination
Glowing ghoul =
No radiation damage + slow regeneration + npc shoot on sight need to convinced them you’re sane
Super mutant =
No radiation damage + Npc are scared and treat you like an idiot and discriminate
Synthétique =
The compount will hunt you down eventually
Human = no malus or bonus

Character background :
Ghoul / glowing ghoul : Old ghoul ; new ghoul ; vault
Human : Vault ; settler ; brotherhood ; institute
Super mutant: amnesiac
Synthétique : Railroad ; Mister handy (Miss nanny) Old, new, vault.
START
New arrivant decided to etablished themselves in an old farm close to the local town and become farmer.
First objectif :
- rebuilt home by scavenging in delapited town

• scavenging town to find seed (First seed of the player)
  
• Scavenging town to find gardening tool
  

Mechanics

Upgrade house by collecting enough scavenging material (metal, stone, tape, glue, etc…) and paid the town entrepreneur to do so.
Possibility to upgrade town by the same way : drinkable water ; defense ; radio tower ; museum ; school ; etc…
Defend home from wild attack (animal, raiders, super mutant, ect…) with gun and eventually autonomous turrets (later game) and engage mercenary to defed (late game). The more the player amass money, the more frequent the attack will be.
Scavenger will gossip about big event and some minor event that occurred in the settlement that you participated in.
Settlement gestion :

• Happiness (Festival ? ; npc request ; …)
  
• Sanitaire (Water access)
  
• Defense (Millitia ; autonomous turrets ; dogs)
  

Thirst gestion.
Can recolt skin, meat (and bones?) of wild animal.
Can recolt material, used to very used weapond, (rarely) health item, (meat and corpse body parts?) on intelligent humanoïds ennemy
Carrying can either be by weight of the item or by the number of item player can carry.

Farming

Season : Spring (middle season) ; Summer (high season) ; Automn (middle season) ; Winter (low season)
Tool: Hoe ; Scynthe ; Watering can ; Pickaxe hamme
Base crop value vs transform product :
Spring : -- ++
Summer : --- +++
Automn : ++ --
Winter : +++ ---

Can sell crop and other to nearest settlement (help with settlement relationship at first) or to traveling marchant.
The river close to your home have fish in it. It take two day for fish to repopulate. If seasonal fish have all be take out, it will take two years
Can raise different mutated animal. Sell them to the town for meat (or kill them and sell them yourself ?) or keep them alive for animal product. (Animal have life span?)
Transform product : Wine ; beer ; jelly ; dried spice,meat, fish ; cheese ; mayo ; butter
Farm building :

• Coop and barn
  
• Forge to fix used weapon
  

- Wind mill

• Food storage (?)
  
• Money storage (no bank, credit card or debit card. Need to carry in your inventary the money life in fallout)
  

Crop seed that can be found in the town :

• Potato
  
• Melon
  
• Wheat
  
• Corn
  
• Carrot
  
• Gourd
  

Seed you can buy for traveling marchants :

• Spice seed (basilic ; persil; etc..)
  
• Fruit seed
  
• Legume seed
  

( - Flower and house plant seed ? (Aloes??))

Fight

No power armor for the player :(
Can buy stimpack and radaway from settlement healer or from scavenger in the town (for a more expensive price). When reach high enough relationship with healer, he will give you the recipe for both. The only way to regain life and get rid of radiation (sleep and food don’t heal). (Sickness (malus) if health too low for too long?)
Gain radiation by drinking
The main fight zone of the game is the town. In the edge : house, a small commerce (tiny to small dungeon) ; Closer to the center: Office, appartement (small to medium dungeon) ; Center : Commercial center, sky scrapper, (subway?) (normal to big dungeon.
Some raiders and some synth will drop their weapons and beg for their life if the health is low enough. Spare enough of them and you will receive letter from either : the minuteman ; the brotherhood or the railroad to thank you for sending more recruit their way. Two or three will regularly visit town.

Relationship

Can get a dog as a perm. Companion (can choose race?) (Can breed you dog and gitf puppy to the settlement?)
Npc relationship possible bonus :
- Discount (from marchant)
- Recipe
- Special cut scene
- (Sometime) help on the farm

• (Sometime) help to defend the farm

Some npc love receving gift other will be inconfortable with it. But after (wedding?) no adverse reaction to receive gift.

• 2 gift a week
  
• 1 gift a month (After the first gift wil react more and more incomfortable, will start to lower relationship)
  

MAX : 2 gift a week
Might meet some settler in the edge of the town, scavenging like you.
Cause of relationship decay :

• Unlike gift
  
• (for some) offer to many gift
  
• 1 month with no interraction
  
• Answer choice
  
• Attacking townie (unkillable)
  
• Question choice
  

There’s a vault “near” the settlement. Gain their trust by doing quest (# depend on race of the player). Once they trust you and when you become mayor, they will become full allied and allow circulation between their vault and the settlement.
Romanceable npc
- # Ghoul

• Robot (Synth and miste handy (miss nanny)

• Super mutant

• Settler

- 1 Traveling npc
Special romance
- Mysterious stranger (need 10 Luck and insert condition)
Will randomly pop out of your house and pop back in. Will tell you about a lone wanderer, courrier or vault survivor he helped. Will come to your help in combat with baby in hand (if kid in the game)

• intelligent deathclaw (insert conditions)

Rival ? Date ?
If there’s kid in the game
Player will be able to have two kids. (Hatchling deathclaw will count as one if in a relationship with Deathclaw).
If player or spouse can’t have a kid (Super mutant ; ghoul ; Synth); player will get a quest about a raider camp in town. Discover all prisoner are dead except one human baby hidden by the body of his dead mother.
Quest reward : Congradulation you are a parent :D
If player can have kid; if spouse is a women, player will have to catter to their wife food craving (nothing with rare item) or face a penality in the relationship. If player is a women ; Malus in health, energy, slower deplacement and carrying capacity decrease the more and more the pregnancy advance. New choice of answer : pissed as fuck and hormonal. Spouse will insist to become a companion until end of pregnancy
Kid will go to school (town upgrade) for three day, help on the farm for three other and have a free day.

Stats

Strenght : carrying capacity (?) ; combat ; energy ; health ; defense
Perception : detect ennemy ; scavenging ; npc interraction
Endurence : health ; energy ; resistance
Charisma : batter ; persuasion ; Npc weariness ; # limit of resident npc in settlement
Intelligence : crafting farm upgrade (fertilizer ; spinkler) ; used weapon fixing
Agility : sneak ; weapon ; defense
Luck : loot quality ; gambling (?) ; crit chance (max starting points : 5)

Skill

Tree skill style possibility : Path of exile ; Outer world
Farming: Tilling - Watering
Fight: Heavy weapons- Light weapons- Melee
Defence : Dodge - Block
Stealth: Sneak- Lockpick - Hack
Endurance : Poison resistance - Radiation resistance - Thirst resistance
Persuasion: Batter - Intimidation - Persuation (?)
Scavenging : Deconstruct - Descerning eyes
Thinkering : Crafting - Engineering - Medecine
(Upgrade skill to upgrade stat? Once you upgrade a skill enough, it allow you to upgrade the stat?)

Quest :
Attempt murder on the player by the mayor once town upgrade and settler relationship high enough. Scare that they would lose their place to you to engage mercenary or try to poison you to keep their place. Force the mercenary to tell you who paid them or find a note on one of them or talk to the mayor after the attack (will be surprise to see you alive). You can :
- Bring him to justice and let the settler decide of his fate. (Will be possible to talk to him in prison)
- Execute him (will have to prove to the settler that this was auto-defense. Lose some relationship with settler)

• Let him life (will leave town. Grateful to be alive but bitter to have lose his title)

Result : Become mayor next election!
Raides have created a camp close to the settlement. Remove them. Player will find two npc in cage. You can :

• Let them there

-Help them out
-Kill them inside the cage
Result :

• They die
  
• Will eventually die of thirsth
  
• Will come to the town and become settlers
  

You’ve find a mister handy (or miss nanny) in the town. Why not fix them?
Result : They will propose you to help you on the farm. Accept and they’ll start working the day after. Refuse and they’ll becom settler. (Possibility to make them synth when relationship high enough?)

Find a sorry scene : deadraiders; a dead deathclaw; a nest with two crushed egg a one intact egg. You can :

• Sell the egg
  
• Eat the egg
  

-Hatch the egg
Result :

• Money
  
• Bost in one stat? Level upgrade?
  
• Get a baby deathclaw. Will be able to switch with you dog as perm companion. (If romanced the deathclaw, you spouse will leave with the hachtling for a season. When back the hatchling statut will change from animal to children and gain dialogue)
  

The river close to your house is drying. Discover the reason. The river goes into a cavern and to a lake.
Result : new fish
There’s a thirsthy and hungry homeless man at the edge of the settlement. You can :
-Give him food and water for a week
-Let him there
-kill him
Result :
-They get back on their feet and eventually open an inn in town. Will sometime offer you free drink an talk to you about stranger he hepled by following your exemple.
-They will slowly die an talk with more and more difficulty. (Which led to kill him)
-Burry him and make a small tomb or let him root there. Will get eaten by wild animal.

Guiding an injured npc to the town
Result :??

The settlement don’t have enough food for the winter and ask for your help. You can :

• Refuse
  
• Accept
  

Result :

• -- relationship with settler and some settler will die
  
• ++ reward if accept
  

Help to defend the settlement (before settlement defense upgrande)
Result :??

The scientist of the vault ## think they can help you rediscover old world crop see.
Result : new seeds :D

End game quest :
The vault now trust you enough to tell you about the G.E.C.K.S. The received one that ended up defective and never received the second. They want you to go to the vault building in the center of the town and see if you can find any information about it. Vault tower will be the most difficult dungeon in the game. Beat it to find that the G.E.C.K.S was sent to a second vault that was either unfinished or an experimentation. Go the the vault ## to discover that the G.E.C.K.S had taken some damage from bad condition and bad storage. Get all the item to fix it and either fix it yourself (no money cost) or ask to a vault scientist to fix it (+++ money cost)
Result : The map surrounding your house, the vault and the town will become more and more green with beautiful tree (Process will take ### day or month or years)

Record temperatures, record migration, record emissions, record displacement, record PFAS……start building an ark.
Last Week in Collapse: May 12-18, 2024
This is Last Week in Collapse, a weekly newsletter compiling some of the most important, timely, useful, soul-crushing, ironic, stunning, exhausting, or otherwise must-see/can’t-look-away moments in Collapse.
This is the 125th newsletter! You can find the May 5-11 edition here if you missed it last week. You can also receive these posts (with images) every Sunday in your email inbox with Substack.
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Flash flooding in northern Afghanistan killed 300+ people and destroyed 1,000+ homes. Hundreds of thousands of others have been affected. Last month, similar floods in the region killed 70+. Four died in Texas storms last week as well.
Venezuela is suffering from record wildfires, which so far this year have burned about 5M acres—almost the size of Sardinia. Some experts think indigenous people started the blaze as an attempt at forest clearance, which quickly got out of hand. “Institutional failures” compounded the disaster when the ailing government responded with an inadequate number of poorly equipped firefighters. Another study from last week examined the impact of wildfires on soil health.
Flooding and “cold lava” killed 50+ in Indonesia, injuring dozens and displacing several thousand. Cold lava is a mixture of water and rocks tumbling down the side of a volcano. Meanwhile, an actual volcano erupted in Indonesia, sending smoke & ash 5000m high; further eruptions are possible soon.
The Swiss Re Institute published a 37-page report last week about natural disasters in 2023—and how much damage, in USD, they caused. The largest catastrophe was the February 7.8 earthquake in Türkiye & Syria, which killed 59,000+ people and caused $163B+ in damage. The report is full of interesting graphics & data about natural disasters.

“Last year, economic losses from natural catastrophes reached USD 280 billion, meaning that 62% of the global losses were uninsured….the insured losses surpassed USD 100 billion for the fourth consecutive year….annual insured losses will grow by 5–7% over the long term…today’s insured losses could double in 10 years….There were 142 insured-loss inducing catastrophes in 2023, a new record. Most were of medium severity, which we define as events resulting in losses of USD 1–5 billion….Over the last 30 years, we estimate that natural catastrophe insured losses have grown by 3 percentage points more annually than the global economy (in inflation adjusted terms)...”

Flooding and heat waves are impacting Brazil’s oranges, responsible for about 70% of the world’s supply. One food analysts declared that the “era of cheap food is over”—in the UK, at least. That may be one reason why UK residents took record food bank packages last year. Madagascar is struggling to adapt to a future with far less rainfall.
France is growing more concerned about a dam on Lake Geneva, controlled exclusively by Switzerland. The Rhône River, which begins in Switzerland and flows south through France, is shrinking in summers as climate change melts Switzerland’s remaining glaciers.
The Tonlé San River has been dammed in Vietnam, lowering the level in Cambodia and sometimes drying the river downstream entirely. Meanwhile, China’s lychee harvest is getting blasted by rain, impacting the world’s largest source of lychee. And, once again, Saudi Arabia is suffering flooding in its inland regions. 7 dead in historic flooding in Iran.
The eminent climate scientist James Hansen posted that, since “human-made aerosols and their cooling effect are in decline,” the cooling effect of La Niña will be counterbalanced by these rising temperatures. He also identifies a “large anomaly of increased absorbed solar radiation at midlatitudes in the Northern Hemisphere” responsible for rising temperatures there. CO2 levels are rising faster today than they have at any point in the previous 50,000 years…and a study of millennia-old trees determined last summer was the hottest worldwide in 2,000+ years…
Record nighttime May temperatures were tied in the Philippines and Vietnam. A couple Indonesian cities broke records for May temperatures. And a number of southern African states saw more records drop. And Toronto saw a record tied for the number of days reaching 14 °C (57 °F). A heat wave has returned to Bangladesh. Flooding in Cali (pop: 2.9M), Colombia.
The University of Washington was ordered to stop a geoengineering project that scientists sere conducting from the deck of a decommissioned aircraft carrier. The experiment ejected aerosolized saltwater in an attempt to reflect solar radiation. A comparative study in Nature Communications of a number of carbon pricing found that, yes, carbon pricing does work to reduce the total CO2 emitted.
It’s that time of the year again. Wildfires in Canada grow, some of which are moving towards the tar sands—forcing thousands to evacuate. 39 of the total nation’s blazes are “out of control,” resulting in air quality alerts in the United States. Meanwhile, across the Caribbean, water shortages have become the new normal, and residents (and tourists) are finding their old consumption habits hard to change. St. Lucia has declared a water emergency. In Myanmar, water shortages worsen, particularly as related to the spiraling conflict.
At least ⅛ of Europeans live in a place at risk of extreme flooding—so says a 175-page report from the European Environment Agency posted on Wednesday. The number of people living in flood-risk coastal areas in the EU & UK is expected to jump 24% by 2050. The graphics-packed report also considers how flooding will impact healthcare facilities, mental health, wastewater treatment plants, the spread of disease, cyanobacteria, permafrost thaw, and much else.

“Europe has seen devastating floods following record rainfall, droughts of magnitudes not experienced in hundreds of years, continuing sea level rise, and increasing lake and sea temperatures….permanent water stress already affects 30% of people in southern Europe….since 2018, more than half of Europe has been impacted by extreme drought conditions….Climate change is expected to increase mercury bioaccumulation in the marine food chain due to rising ocean temperatures, ocean acidification and permafrost thawing….Depression, anxiety and PTSD may persist for years after a flooding event….Under the changing climate, northern Europe is becoming wetter in general, but drier in summer. Southern Europe is becoming drier, especially in winter. For central-eastern and western Europe, the trend is less clear…” -selections from the report

Milan suffered flooding last week, the worst May flooding in 170 years. Early spring in the UK has disrupted migratory bird species and their usual patterns.
A 74-page working paper which is not yet peer-reviewed claims that earlier estimates for how much GDP would be impacted by another 1 °C temperature rise is way less than it would be in actuality. The paper claims the real cost (in USD) is about 6x greater. They claim “global temperature has much more pronounced impacts on economic activity than local temperature” and that extreme weather is mostly behind the projected decline in productivity.
——————————
Epidemiologists are worried about how climate change in Africa may extend the life of disease-bearers like ticks and mosquitoes. Other epidemiologists are worried about how cattle may become a permanent reservoir for H5N1. Growing traced of bird flu have been found in wastewater testing in the U.S., but investigators think it may be runoff from infected dairy farms.
Obesity, high blood sugar, and high blood pressure rates today globally are 50% higher than in 2000—though researchers claim that air pollution still poses a larger threat. Of a study participants in Hawai’i, 75% had respiratory issues, probably from the Maui wildfires last year.
The 2024 World Migration Report is out, and its 384 pages are not as apocalyptic as one might think. However, internally displaced people are at their all-time highest. India, Mexico, Russia, China, and Syria lead the world in emigrants; another document contains the definitions for who exactly constitutes a migrant. Unfortunately much of the data relied upon ends in 2022. Data from this year, not included in the above report, indicates a 40% jump in traffic through the Darien Gap compared to the same time period in 2023.

“The last two years saw major migration and displacement events that have caused great hardship and trauma, as well as loss of life….There have also been large-scale displacements triggered by climate- and weather-related disasters in many parts of the world in 2022 and 2023, including in Pakistan, the Philippines, China, India, Bangladesh, Brazil and Colombia….disinformation tactics are increasingly being used by nefarious actors with negative impacts on public, political and social media discourse on migration….Forced displacement is the highest on record in the modern era…overconsumption and overproduction linked to unsustainable economic growth, resource depletion and biodiversity collapse, as well as ongoing climate change (including global heating) are continuing to grip the world….the risk of further conflict has not been higher in decades, as military spending reached a new record high of USD 2,240 billion in 2022…” -excerpts from the introduction

Another report, focusing on internal displacement, came out last week; its 69 pages show a cross-section of about 47M people displaced by natural disasters (56%) or armed conflict (44%). Most of the disasters were storms & flooding, and most of the conflicts were civil wars of some form. This report also provides detailed region-by-region analyses—with sub-Saharan Africa accounting for 46% of global IDPs.

“Conflict and violence triggered 13.5 million movements, the highest figure for the past 15 years….Disasters and conflict are presented as different triggers, but their impacts can overlap, often leading to repeated and/ or protracted displacement….Drought triggered 331,000 displacements in Somalia….Floods triggered 550,000 displacements in Ethiopia….Conflict and violence triggered 3.8 million displacements in DRC in 2023, a slight fall from the record four million in 2022, but still the second-highest figure globally after Sudan….nearly two-thirds of the internal displacements recorded in 2023 originated from Khartoum state. More than 39 per cent of the state's inhabitants were forced to flee, leaving entire neighbourhoods empty….Criminal and communal violence triggered nearly three-quarters of Nigeria's 291,000 conflict displacements….” -selections from the spotlight on sub-Saharan Africa

Experts are concerned about the mental health impacts that climate change has on our minds. Hotter temperatures reportedly increase depression & aggression. Wildfires and storms can cause PTSD. Workers feel stress and desperation as their usual industries are impacted. And air pollution influences ordinary brain processes in many ways.
Some analysts believe “Peak China” may be over, signaling a period of economic tapering-off, as well as a growing militancy. Increasing U.S. tariffs on Chinese goods are continuing to separate the two economies. The Netherlands finally formed a provisional government, though its proposed immigration & farming policies have set it at odds with the EU.
The Federal Reserve, the U.S. central bank, released a 46-page report on potential climate risks to the banking system’s resilience. As far as I understood, most of the risk lies in extreme weather events and the risk to insurance agencies.
Part of southeast England experienced an outbreak of Cryptosporidium, a diarrhea & vomiting illness, highly contagious, which can last weeks. At least 22 cases have been reported. Meanwhile, the CDC is issuing warnings about the more dangerous strain of monkeypox circulating in the DRC, although cases are currently limited to Africa.
North Carolina’s Senate voted to ban mask-wearing last week, under the reasoning that it would make police identification of protestors difficult. An fMRI study found lasting neurological changes in COVID survivors; they “had significantly higher cognitive complaints of mental fatigue and cognitive failure….even two years after recovering.” Experts say a summer rise in COVID cases is coming to the United States.
A study on The Canadian/American Great Lakes found that PFAS levels are increasing in the 3 largest lakes (Superior, Huron, and Michigan), while decreasing in the other two (Erie, Ontario). The study also found that precipitation is the primary means by which the Lakes are accumulating PFAS, since the chemicals are small & stable enough to move through the water cycle. Meanwhile, in England’s Lake District, a telecom failure resulted in raw sewage being pumped into England’s largest and most famous lake, Windermere, on-and-off for 10 hours; and a major British water CEO took a $4M USD pay package last year. And a look into the Chicago River’s health found that microplastics & trash are endangering health & biodiversity.
——————————
An assassination attempt by a lone wolf on Slovakia’s PM left him in critical condition, but likely to survive. 11 civilians were slain by cartel fighters in a few battles in Mexico. Violence continues to spiral out of control in Goma, DRC.
In Haiti, everything worsens indefinitely. Guns have reportedly entered from Florida, a phenomenon which officials call an “iron river.” Police have been put on the defensive against the growing might of the gang warlords.
A brawl broke out in Taiwan’s parliament. An Iranian plot was allegedly foiled to smuggle weapons into Jordan to destabilize the pro-U.S. regime.
Dozens more died in Sudan from escalating violence around Darfur. People are warning about “a disaster on top of a disaster” and the possibility of Sudan splitting apart. Others have called it “hell on earth” as 1,000+ refugees cross the Chad border every day. Disease and malnutrition are growing, while famine encroaches upon 9M helpless victims of the conflict—but the world’s attention is elsewhere.
The U.S. Army Engineers completed constructing the pier in Gaza to deliver humanitarian aid. Some 600,000 Gazans have been displaced from Rafah already, and fighting has escalated against Hamas militants in northern Gaza.
Taliban forces skirmished with Pakistani soldiers for about 90 minutes last week. Taliban attacks in Pakistan, and counterattacks have resulted in a kind of ambient disruption for the rocky border zone.
Violent protests—and counteroperations—are continuing in New Caledonia (pop: 270,000), a Pacific island part of overseas France. The riots, which have killed 6 people so far, began after metropolitan France proposed a plan to expand voting rights beyond indigenous residents. A state of emergency has been declared amid worries about a spiral of violence taking hold.
As the Sahel dries out, experts are concerned about the links to rising terrorism in the region. The Sahel accounts for over 40% of global terrorism deaths—according to the analysts’ understanding of “terrorism.” Mali in particular has reportedly become home to 41 new, different non-state armed groups (NSAGs) since 2007. A contested election in Chad resulted in the consolidation of the interim leader’s power.

“If governments are continually unable to solve regional issues, the people will be at the whim of any terror group that has a basic organization. It serves these groups’ interests to promote insecurity where they can and create security where they want. A “hearts and minds” campaign in the Sahel could lead to long-term and locally supported insurgencies in a land that is currently rife with civil strife.” -from the article

Some wargamers concluded that a Trump victory in 2020 would spell the end of NATO, or at least the end of its utility. Vladimir Putin replaced his minister of defense with a top economic advisor, just before going to Beijing to reaffirm their friendship with “no limits.” Some say Putin is planning on a forever war. Some say NATO is gearing up for one, too.
Russia made several gains in the suburbs of Kharkiv, seizing several settlements which some analysts doubt they will hold. Putin claims they aren’t really trying to take Kharkiv anyway… Russia also made small progress in the Donbas—although they suffered their largest one-day casualties since the start of the war. The U.S. allocated another $2B to hasten the delivery of weapons to the front lines. The next weeks will be crucial on the front. Switzerland has invited 160+ nations to send delegates to a peace summit intended to design a path to making peace in this War.
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Select comments/threads from the subreddit last week suggest:
-Brazil’s flooding was really, really bad, judging from this post and its accompanying images. Across just one of Brazil’s 26 states, 600,000+ people have been made homeless, 100+ have died, and the storm season isn’t over yet. Some of the flooding isn’t expected to subside for another month.
-How specifically might climate change make humanity extinct? This thread crowdsources a number of plausible ways, from ordinary famines to nuclear war and even a massive deoxygenation process. I tend to think it will be a consequence of an eventual nuclear exchange, followed by extended famine and disease.
Got any feedback, questions, comments, complaints, upvotes, doom prophets to follow, hugelkultur guides, directions to off-grid bunkers, ark schematics, etc.? Check out the Last Week in Collapse SubStack if you don’t want to check collapse every Sunday, you can receive this newsletter sent to your (or someone else’s) email inbox every weekend. What did I forget this week?

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

19M, US, 6’2, around 160 lbs, no tobacco or vaping/social drinkesmokes marijuana daily, neg hx except allergies/asthma (takes allegra when he remembers)
recently, my son was at urgent care (URI) and weighed in at 150. he was there about a year prior and weighed 190-something. he had not been trying to lose weight. he went to his PCP and had a bunch of bloodwork, thyroid ultrasound, and a CT of the abdomen & pelvis. everything was normal, except for the CT scan. here is the report:
EXAM: CT scan of the abdomen and pelvis with oral and intravenous contrast
History: 19-year-old. male with greater than 40 pound weight loss over 1 year. No history of surgery, smoking or malignancy. Patient reports a history of asthma.
COMPARISON: None
TECHNIQUE: CT scan of the abdomen and pelvis was performed on bolus of 85 mL of Omnipaque 350 via IV injection. Axial images along with coronal and sagittal reconstructions were performed and reviewed. There were no complications.
FINDINGS: Spleen is normal at 11,4 cm in length. Liver is at the upper limits of normal in size measuring almost 18 cm in length. No liver mass is identifled. No ascites, pleural effusion or pericardial effusion noted. No acute or focal abnormality is noted in the lung bases.
Aorta, IVC, hepatic veins enhance normally. No retroperitoneal lymphadenopathy. Kidneys are unremarkable. No adrenal mass is seen. Pancreas gallbladder and biliary tree are unremarkable as visualized.
The stomach is unremarkable. Large bowel is unremarkable. Well-defined filling defect (2 cm in AP dimension 5.4 cm in length) is noted in the lumen of the left jejunum on coronal image 30 and axial image 72 series 2. Otherwise small bowel is unremarkable. Appendix is not visualized. No mesenteric lymphadenopathy seen.
No anterior abdominal wall hernia is noted. Left colon is collapsed. No lymphadenopathy or mass seen in the pelvis. Prostate, bladder and seminal vesicles are normal. No hernia or lymphadenopathy seen in the groin.
Review of the osseous structures was performed and no mass or destructive process is noted.
IMPRESSION:

1. Focal filling defect and possible mass in the left jejunum as above. Further clinical follow-up is recommended.

Results and recommendations for follow-up were telephoned to the referring practioner’s office.
his PCP wants him to see a general surgeon this week, and has already spoken to two of them, so we should have an appt day & time on mon. my son and i currently live in different states, but i will be traveling to attend the appt with him. in the meantime, i am trying not to fall apart.
my son does not know his whole family history - both his maternal and paternal grandfathers were adopted. however, there is a history of GI cancer on both my maternal and paternal sides of the family. 😭 (tho not at such a young age - 50s and up)
any insight would be much appreciated, whether it be good, bad or ugly. is it likely that this could this be cancer? could this be something that he was born with? he has no pain, nausea, no GI symptoms at all, and whatever this thing is isn’t palpable.
thank you for any insight and/or advice!

WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

Here’s the death list according to multiple sources.
The tornado claimed it’s first death around 1:00/1:01 pm in between Ellington and Redford in Reynolds County when it killed 49 year old Samuel Flowers as he was riding his horse with his dog from Ellington back to his farm in Redford. Both his horse and dog survived the tornado, and 1% of the population of Redford was killed.
The tornado then entered Iron County where at 1:15 pm it struck Annapolis. 21 year old Merrill Raymond Stewart was killed by flying timber and being crushed by debris as he was standing in the Main Street and 33 year old. Orso Kelly whose house set in the western valley of Leadanna ie the border between Annapolis and Leadanna was killed when the tornado’s winds blew him from the porch of his house and into the creek where his head was slammed against a tree killing him. He was the only one who got a death certificate which said the tornado killed him in Iron County as all of the other victims got other causes to their death on their death certificates. 2 more unidentified were killed in Annapolis The tornado then hit Leadanna killing 2 people who were above ground including a husband of one of Clara Brown née Lewis’s cousins and a unidentified. Also killed in the area was another niece of Carl Brown’s. In total 7 people, 4 in Annapolis, 2 in Leadanna, and 1 in the area were killed by the tornado.
The tornado went though Madison County without any deaths as it missed most of the populated areas such as Cherokee Pass and Cornwall.
Around 1:26 pm it entered Bollinger County. And a few minutes before 2:00 pm it was reported just a few miles north of Patton. The tornado then crossed the Whitewater River and at 1:45 pm it destroyed the Conrad School killing 10 year old John Fulton and injuring his teacher and 16 students. It then hit the 2 story Fellows farmhouse killing 1 year old Harley E Fellows from a deep gash through his skull and his 14 year old cousin Perry N Fellows who was killed in the wreckage. Meanwhile nearly 3 miles south of the in between distance of the Conrad School and Fellows Farmhouse, 50 year old Amanda Emma Hanners née Bollinger became a indirect victim of the tornado when she died of a heart attack that the tornado caused. The tornado then went through Lixville and exited quickly. Then at 2:00 pm multiple places in Bollinger County will all be hit and multiple people will be killed by the Tornado at the same time. East of the Lixville’s founder, judge Louis Lix’s concrete home the Garner School was hit and destroyed with the teacher injured, 16 students injured, and another student 7 year old Trula C Henry will died of her injuries a week later on March 25th. Irene E Clements who was less than a year old was killed while she was in her mother’s arms as every building on her family’s farm was destroyed. Finally on the Bollinger County/Schumer Springs, Perry County border 24 year old Grant Oster Miller was killed at his barn which was destroyed. Also killed somewhere in Bollinger County was an unidentified. In all of Bollinger County 8 barns were destroyed and 8 were killed.

Here’s the death list according to multiple sources.
The tornado claimed it’s first death around 1:00/1:01 pm in between Ellington and Redford in Reynolds County when it killed 49 year old Samuel Flowers as he was riding his horse with his dog from Ellington back to his farm in Redford. Both his horse and dog survived the tornado, and 1% of the population of Redford was killed.
The tornado then entered Iron County where at 1:15 pm it struck Annapolis. 21 year old Merrill Raymond Stewart was killed by flying timber and being crushed by debris as he was standing in the Main Street and 33 year old. Orso Kelly whose house set in the western valley of Leadanna ie the border between Annapolis and Leadanna was killed when the tornado’s winds blew him from the porch of his house and into the creek where his head was slammed against a tree killing him. He was the only one who got a death certificate which said the tornado killed him in Iron County as all of the other victims got other causes to their death on their death certificates. 2 more unidentified were killed in Annapolis The tornado then hit Leadanna killing 2 people who were above ground including a husband of one of Clara Brown née Lewis’s cousins and a unidentified. Also killed in the area was another niece of Carl Brown’s. In total 7 people, 4 in Annapolis, 2 in Leadanna, and 1 in the area were killed by the tornado.
The tornado went though Madison County without any deaths as it missed most of the populated areas such as Cherokee Pass and Cornwall.
Around 1:26 pm it entered Bollinger County. And a few minutes before 2:00 pm it was reported just a few miles north of Patton. The tornado then crossed the Whitewater River and at 1:45 pm it destroyed the Conrad School killing 10 year old John Fulton and injuring his teacher and 16 students. It then hit the 2 story Fellows farmhouse killing 1 year old Harley E Fellows from a deep gash through his skull and his 14 year old cousin Perry N Fellows who was killed in the wreckage. Meanwhile nearly 3 miles south of the in between distance of the Conrad School and Fellows Farmhouse, 50 year old Amanda Emma Hanners née Bollinger became a indirect victim of the tornado when she died of a heart attack that the tornado caused. The tornado then went through Lixville and exited quickly. Then at 2:00 pm multiple places in Bollinger County will all be hit and multiple people will be killed by the Tornado at the same time. East of the Lixville’s founder, judge Louis Lix’s concrete home the Garner School was hit and destroyed with the teacher injured, 16 students injured, and another student 7 year old Trula C Henry will died of her injuries a week later on March 25th. Irene E Clements who was less than a year old was killed while she was in her mother’s arms as every building on her family’s farm was destroyed. Finally on the Bollinger County/Schumer Springs, Perry County border 24 year old Grant Oster Miller was killed at his barn which was destroyed. Also killed somewhere in Bollinger County was an unidentified. In all of Bollinger County 8 barns were destroyed and 8 were killed.