#Endless mountains region

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

Endless Mountains Region Pokédex.

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

So glad I live somewhere bordering.

Can island deities please stop giving random people sparkling stones? I know the trainers are ‘worthy’ but this is getting out of hand

- a tired ranger who just had to stop some guy from using a z-move against another guy

[swordgrace]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a blissful marriage to an honorable man — it is more than you could’ve asked for. with the heir on the way, you make a request of your husband.

anonymous request. unofficial sequel to wolfsblood, dragonsblood.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), overprotective cregan, reader is pretty horny for cregan (valid), pregnancy, reader is pregnant, sexual activities while pregnant, cregan is a father in his mind, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, cregan loves munching, vaginal fingering, teasing, biting, hair-pulling kink, obvious size difference + size kink, slight face-riding, lots of cregan admiring in this one-shot, very soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I love writing for Cregan so much, y’all don’t understand the depths of my adoration for him. I churned this out pretty quickly, but I loved writing it, Father Cregan is the best! I hope that you all enjoy, & thank you for your support! ❤️

𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.

It was easier to breathe, you’d realized — King’s Landing had always been so stifling and pungent, the population too thick, the air acrid. Here, in the North, it was sprawling with open spaces, regions of untouched forest and unsettled countryside.

The bite of the harsh, Northern chill was not an easy adjustment to make after a lengthy life spent in Southern regions — the gnawing wind often seared your extremities, and it was not any easier on Silverwing. Fire ran through your veins, tempered by your tender heart and kindly disposition.

Your beloved husband would not have it any other way.

What had started as an unsteady, tumultuous betrothal marked by obvious bitterness from your family and wariness from his own House, had blossomed into a fruitful union. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, and it made you realize how fortunate you were.

Snow was uncommon in most of the South, yet it remained constant in the North, mountains blanketed in endless horizons of white. It was a particularly icy day, winter winds stinging your cheeks, prickling your flesh with its pinpricks.

Mounds of pale, grayish fur swaddled your form, lined in the finest fleece, downy and plush against your skin. The trodden path to the Godswood was marked by frozen dirt, dusted over with a fresh layer of snowfall. Sprinkles of crystalline drops fell from the cloudy skies, and your breath emerged in hot wisps of air.

Lilac hues drifted toward the mountainous form of your husband, whose back was turned to you, swathed in the dappled pelt of a direwolf. Ice hung from his shoulder, a massive longsword of Valyrian Steel, an heirloom passed down through generations of House Stark.

Someday soon, it will pass to your firstborn son.

You recalled the night that you were wed, beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree. It was serene, a moonlit dusk that struck the snow with an ethereal glow, your hands bound as you recanted your vows. It had been some moons now since that day, and you had only felt joy since then.

Cregan listened to the light crunch of snow beneath your footfalls as they reverberated throughout the Godswood, the pond frozen-over with a layer of ice. Pale bark marked with a foreign face peered back at him — this was a place that he and Rickon visited many times.

Before his little brother had passed, they pretended to fight wars here, forge their weapons, sticks found from the forest floor, and envision themselves as Knights. He could still feel his brother sometimes, his presence a whisper in the blood-red leaves, somewhere within the forest’s song.

Religion was a complicated thing for you. Your mother wielded the Faith of the Seven like a crudely-worn shortsword, letting it strike to her advantage even when it was rusty, at best. You had little interest in it, and Cregan seemed to respect your growing distance from your old roots. The Old Gods were his — you had nothing.

Inklings of snow drifted from the pale skies, growing darker as evening approached. The North became unyieldingly harsh after the sun began to wane, the sting of biting wind swirling around you, seeping into your bones. You were rather cold, but persisted for Cregan.

“Ser Rodrick said that I might find you here,” Silence dissipated, filled with the sound of your voice, as soft as feathers, a soothing balm. You stepped closer, beneath the boughs of the great tree, the canopy thick with vermillion leaves. “How are you faring?”

With Winter approaching, spreading its cold, brittle tendrils across the North, Cregan’s duties had increased tenfold. Preparing his people for winter, ensuring that food was plentiful, that they were safe — it was the burden of leadership, but there was no one better suited for it in your eyes.

“Well enough,” Cregan murmured, storm-colored hues drifting over the Weirwood tree before they turned to you, completely and utterly transfixed. You stole every wisp of air from his lungs with your beauty, clad in the trappings of his people. “I apologize for running off.”

An amiable smile crossed your features as you reached for your husband, slipping a gloved palm against the crook of his arm. “You needn’t apologize, husband. You are owed your solitude, and I wouldn’t dare tell you otherwise.” You have his bicep a gentle squeeze.

Cregan’s gaze softened, sparkling with a warmth reserved only for you, his beloved. Your presence always seemed to melt away his hardened exterior, but he much preferred it that way. He stepped closer, towering above you in all of his indomitable glory, craning down to press a kiss against your brow.

The gloved leather of his hand moved to cup your abdomen, and the growing life within. The joyous news of your pregnancy had been the talk of the North, the new Lady Stark, preparing to birth an heir of Winterfell. Those thick furs you wore obscured your belly quite well.

“I should be asking you how you fare, carrying our child,” Cregan insisted, gingerly caressing around your stomach with the pride of a doting husband. “Here you are, walking all this way to the Godswood, when it is I who should be by your side.” If there was one word to describe Cregan, it was overprotective.

Gods, he was attentive — if he did leave your side, he ensured that you were well looked-after, under the watchful protection of his guardsmen. You couldn’t fault your husband for his safeguarding nature, given that it was to be your firstborn.

Sometimes he forgot that you were a dragon-rider.

“Being beneath the open sky has done me a world of good, husband,” You mused, canting your head to one side. You were not completely round and waddling just yet — halfway through, as the Maester stated. “I cannot stand to look at that dreadful cobblestone for days on-end.”

Cregan did not protest, nor invalidate your claims. He was not the one carrying a child — he did not have a right to speak on behalf of you. A shiver rolled down your spine, due to the bitter chill of the wind, coupled with the encroaching snowfall.

Instead, he reached for your jaw, cupping your face within the roughened texture of his leather-clad palm, presenting you with a kiss. It was kept brief, yet the ardor lingered, as strong as a burning flame. “You are shivering, beloved. Let us return to the Keep.” He rumbled, shielding you beneath his cloak.

A respite from the cold would be welcome. Even if you possessed the blood of the Dragon, you did not fare well in such blisteringly glacial conditions. The thick cover of your husband’s cloak brought a sense of comfort, coupled with the natural heat that radiated from him.

Snow crunched beneath his heavy footfalls, your own masked by his boots. Cregan made sure to guide you every step of the way, hovering with his impressive shadow. “I have been contemplating a name for our child.” You spoke softly, a smile toying upon your lips.

“Have you?” Cregan appeared appeased, a stoic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter.” He remarked, letting your hand wrap around the bulk of his forearm, guiding you through the Godswood.

“Perhaps not, but I wanted you to hear,” Such ideas had been stirring around within your mind for weeks, and with Cregan so preoccupied, you hadn’t broached the topic of conversation. “Gilliane, after your mother, should we have a daughter, and … Rickon.” You hesitated. “Should we have a son.”

Cregan’s steps began to slow, and he looked upon you with such love and devotion that it was nearly overwhelming. He couldn’t have loved you anymore if he tried — and he had tried. Towering over you, he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, one that blossomed with fondness.

You gave him the greatest honor of all — that of fatherhood, and now, you had bestowed upon him sentimental names, those of his family. Love flourished within his storm-colored hues, and he seemed to soften at your words. “You would honor me beyond words, wife. Do you not wish to pay tribute to your own family?”

Placing a hand over the growing swell of your stomach, you seemed somewhat indifferent to talk of your family. Helaena and Daeron were the exceptions in this, but it did not pain you any less. “I pay tribute by carrying our child,” You replied, your smile threadbare. “That is enough.”

Solemn, Cregan simply nodded, understanding your strained relationship with the family you had left behind in King’s Landing. From what you told him and from what he discerned, you seemed much happier here, liberated and free of such poisonous clutches. “Of course.” A soft rumble reverberated throughout his chest.

Winterfell’s snow-laden gates were now within reach, as guards in Stark tabards harkened the return of its Lord and Lady. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you interact with the denizens underneath his protection — you often greeted them with smiles and laughter.

He watched you grow into your station as Lady Stark, a growth that showed such promise. You had been shy around Northerners at first, but you now walked as if you had been in Winterfell your whole life. Cregan kept you close, his stance that of a protective husband, hovering above you with his hulking stature.

The Keep was close, and you could feel the crackling warmth of the hearth lick across your skin in the forefront of your mind. Cregan was characteristically stalwart, keeping you wedged against his side, swaddled in the thick furs of the direwolf.

Once inside, you welcomed the gust of warmer air. The Keep burned many fires and braziers when winter became sharp and bitter, your cheeks stinging from the cold. “Shall we retire this evening, or are you lacking in nourishment?” Cregan inquired, knowing that your penchant for foodstuffs had increased while pregnant.

“Could something be brought to our chambers? Perhaps a stew or a broth, that sounds rather warming.” As if on-queue, your stomach lurched with inklings of famish, as if your child also demanded something to eat.

“It will be done,” With his stoic assurance, your husband bent down to press a kiss against your temple, smoothing a palm across your back. “I will join you shortly, wife.” Cregan had a tendency to walk the Keep before retiring — spare a word to the guards, those in the kitchens, and anyone underneath his care.

“Do not keep me waiting for too long.” You mused, lips curving into a warm smile that could melt even the hardiest of ice — including that of your husband. The vulnerability that seemed to come to him in your presence was a comforting thing.

With a soft huff, Cregan cupped your chin, looking upon you with tempestuous hues, as gray as a winter’s storm. “I wouldn’t dare.” He assured, presenting you with a tender kiss. Gods, you had sorely missed his mouth in many ways, and you were swift to reciprocate.

After you had become with-child, fuller and round with the heir to Winterfell, you had not engaged Cregan as much in terms of intimacy. He wanted you to relax, to not have to lift a finger. You missed your husband in more ways than one, giving way to your own basic desires and carnal instincts.

The kiss possessed a charged edge, tension looming above, the fringes of it seeping into your lips. You held onto his forearm, an audible sigh slipping past your mouth when Cregan withdrew. He could detect your yearning — the sentiment was a mutual one, but he feared hurting you, as any man would.

With a gentle hum, you allowed your husband to leave you, watching as his impressive form encapsulated all space within the corridor he walked in. You let him tend to his duties, and you made for the spiraling stairwell, making your way to your chambers without a hitch.

Thick, wooden doors gave way to the sanctuary within, the hearth being stoked and tended-to by one of the servants. “I thought you might want it warm, m’lady.” She mused, having laid out a series of new wardrobes for you across the foot of your bed.

“Thank you, Tanea.” The new gowns and dresses seemed to be made with your new specifications in-mind, accommodating for your growing belly. Part of you felt self-conscious when it came to your pregnancy — you no longer seemed to fit into your own skin.

“You must be excited, with the babe on the way,” Tanea was easy to speak with, an exuberant young woman with cherubic features. “Your Lord-Husband certainly is.” She chimed, finishing with the hearth as she moved about.

“Is he?” Cregan was sometimes difficult to read, countenance permanently etched with that stoic Northern scowl of his, but you knew how happy he was. Knowing that your servants could see it filled you with delight. “I may need your assistance, Tanea.”

“Very much so, m’lady. He speaks as if he is a father already,” She fluttered to your side, assisting you in relinquishing the weight of your fur cloak and overcoat you wore. Tanea arranged the garments back into the large, wooden wardrobe. “Do you need anything else?”

“I do not,” You smiled, moving to sit atop the fur-laden footlocker at the end of your shared bed. “You have my gratitude, Tanea.” The girl curtsied, a proper gesture, before making her way from your chambers.

Intrigued, you happened to admire the new gowns strewn across your bed, many of them styled in the Northern way of dress, save for your evening shifts. One in particular caught your eye, made of sage-hued silk, translucent and frilly, the sleeves billowing.

Pinching the fabric between your fingers, you decided on wearing it to bed, pushing yourself up right as you organized the rest elsewhere, into the space of your wardrobe. Heavy footfalls resonated outside of your door, with it creaking open to give way to Cregan.

Your mountain of a husband carried two bowls of steaming stew, placing them down along the small, rounded table. The intricate carving of a wolf rested along the table’s edge, made of wood from the Wolfswood. “Are you tired?” He inquired, removing Ice from his shoulders, scabbard and all, placing it near his bedside.

After you had become with-child, he kept it close, in case of any unsightly, dire circumstances. He would not ever allow himself to be defenseless in your presence. You had thought it to be somewhat overly cautious, but you did not dissuade him otherwise.

“Not really,” You hummed, reaching for the many pins keeping your braids in-place. You removed them one by one, placing the ruby-studded needles upon your vanity. It felt better to let your hair down, pale tresses cascading across your shoulders in soft waves. “I am perfectly awake.”

Cregan’s visage was one of clear appreciation and adoration as he stepped closer, admiring the way you looked. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He insisted, hands moving to assist you in unlacing your dress. This was a common practice with each passing night — you enjoyed it.

Warmth crept along your features as you stood still, allowing him to untie your bodice with his calloused fingers, until the garment loosened. “You are much too kind, husband.” Stepping from your gown, you were left in a white slip, one that had grown somewhat uncomfortable with its tightness.

“It is not a kindness, but the plain truth.” Cregan replied, pressing a kiss against the pale crown of your head, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “You are my beautiful wife.” He affirmed with a grunt, and moved away to change into his own smallclothes. Abandoning his leather and armor always felt unusual for him.

There was no debating your husband, whose stubbornness was sometimes renowned. Instead, you smiled, abandoning the snug, ivory fabric for your field of sage, hastily pulling it on over the swell of your stomach.

It gave you ample time to observe Cregan, whose musculature ensnared you time and time again. He was impressively thick, broad-shouldered and built like the Wall itself. Seeing him standing there in just his trousers made something hot stir between your legs.

You crept forward, shamelessly wrapping your arms around him from behind, and you could feel a tremor throughout his body when he huffed. “I have a handsome husband, a perfect husband — and that is the plain truth.” You hummed, cold cheek burying itself against the warmth of his skin.

Wordlessly, you peppered soft kisses against his spine, and to any scars and bruises that you could see. You listened to the sharp exhale from your husband, who did not protest your actions. Your lips felt like the kiss of snow, still cold from the chilly outdoors.

Cregan let you stay that way, and in-truth, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Those large, calloused hands placed themselves atop yours, lifting both to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. He let them drop, and you caressed him wherever you could. The gesture was soft, but he couldn’t deny the growing sensuality present between you both.

“For the blood of the dragon, your hands run cold, wife.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly tracing his fingers across your wrist, feeling your physique against his back, including the swell of your belly. You pressed your palms against his abdomen, able to feel the taut, subtle muscle there.

“It is a good thing that I have you to warm them,” The silky, soft resonance of your voice brought him comfort. You sounded so relaxed and blissful, feeling him sluggishly turn around within your hold. Cregan cupped your cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing across your lips. You kissed his thumb. “Kiss me.”

Cregan’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and he instead gestured to the meal he’d brought with him. “Once you eat and have proper sustenance, I might indulge you then, beloved.” He mused, noticing the twinge of disappointment on your face.

“Might?” There was an upward inflection within your tone, as if the mere suggestion of might had offended you to some degree. Your burly husband then caged you within his embrace, palms soothingly caressing along your hips. “Must you insist on tormenting me?” You teased.

With a low grunt, Cregan reached for his tunic, eyes twinkling with mirth. “For now.” Tugging on the dark blue linen of his nightshirt, he gestured for you to eat, sitting beside you at the table. His own chair groaned in protest, and before he knew it, you were devouring your stew.

A mouthful of warm, seasoned broth filled your maw, accompanied with hearty chunks of venison and stewed vegetables. The cuisine in the North differed greatly from the South, not that you minded. You often felt more fulfilled after meals than you used to.

“Gods, that was wonderful,” You groaned, the stew satisfying your cravings. It warmed you to the bone, causing a shudder to roll down your spine as you finished, nudging the bowl aside. “I could eat several servings of that.” Your confession prompted Cregan to smirk.

���Famished, were you?” Cregan mused, watching as you moved out of your chair, cradling your stomach with one hand. He very nearly rushed to assist you, but he knew you would’ve swatted him aside.

“Quite, but I am eating for two. Your child needs it as much as I do,” You remarked, wandering toward the hearth as you extended one palm toward the fire. The comforting heat licked across your flesh, the orange light dancing over your features. “Much better.”

Cregan joined you not long after, guiding you to sit atop the large footlocker at the end of your marital bed, closest to the open flames. His rough fingertips glided over the plane of sage-hued silks, as he admired your womanly form through the fabric. “This suits you.” He rumbled, gently tugging on the silk to accentuate his point.

“Tanea had the seamstress craft me new clothing, given that I’ve grown quite a bit,” Admittedly, you felt some insecurity in your current state, afraid that your husband may not enjoy you as he once had. “I am glad that you like it, husband. I was worried that you wouldn’t.”

Perplexed, chestnut brows furrowed together, his countenance one of clear concern. Slipping an arm behind you, he calmly stroked your side, silently beseeching you to tell him of your worries. He knew what it pertained to, even if it was left unspoken. “Your worries are misplaced. I love you.” He assured.

“It isn’t just that, I — I suppose I feared that you wouldn’t still enjoy me this way. Most husbands in the capital seemed so disinterested when their wives began to show.” This wasn’t the South, and Cregan was as far from a disinterested husband as one could get. He kissed your jaw, letting you rest against him.

“You are carrying our child, the heir to Winterfell — I would continue to love you regardless of what your body might look like. Damn the Southerners,” Cregan murmured, planting a hand atop your belly. “I look at you and I see my wife — I see perfection. My heart calls your name.” For a man so rugged and rough, his words made your blood surge with exhilaration.

Joining his hand, you placed your palm atop his, the one firmly perched against your belly. If Cregan were being truthful with himself, he found you to be painfully beautiful like this, swollen with his child, knowing that he put a pup in you. Those lascivious fantasies had now become reality.

“Ñuha dōna zokla,” My sweet wolf — your High Valyrian often brought him to heel, bringing out the siren’s lull within your voice. Cregan had made a valiant effort to learn some of the language for you, but it never sounded as pleasant on his Northern tongue. “I am yours.” You beamed, lilac hues glistening with ardor.

Bringing a calloused palm to your face, he traced the fine plane of your cheekbone, reveling in the velveteen texture of your flesh. A wolf, brought to heel at his dragon’s side. Cregan studied your Valyrian features, basking in your beauty, coaxing you in for a kiss.

Your mouth was disarmingly soft, catching him off-guard, stealing away all of his coherency. He felt you turn inward, palm planting itself against the thick, corded muscle of his thigh, gripping him tightly as he deepened your kiss.

Something warm stirred within him, a longing to feel your body against his, able to detect the hitch within your breath as he drew you closer. Your wanton need radiated from you in thick, permeating waves, enough to bring him into the intricate web of your desire.

“Easy, wife.” Cregan rumbled, wanting to temper your carnality before it raged into that of a dragon’s flame. Your pleading gaze suggested otherwise, prompting him to caress along the length of your spine. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

A begrudging sigh escaped your lips as you incessantly tugged at his tunic, staring at your husband with furrowed brows. “You wouldn’t,” You uttered, tracing your fingers over his heart. “We do not have to commit the entire act. I simply want to enjoy you in other ways — I miss it.”

Subtlety wasn’t your strongest suit, and Cregan knew this. Arousal stirred within him, cock twitching at your lascivious insinuations. “Hm,” A soft growl left him, one that seemed to share your sentiments. “Is that what my lady commands of me?” He murmured, holding you close.

“She does,” You hummed, treating him to a playful smile as you reached for his chestnut tresses. One of your hands slithered beneath his tunic, feeling along the solid, thick muscle of his abdomen. He stroked at your belly, a stern hum reverberating within his throat. “Gods, I need you.” You exhaled.

With your need laid bare, Cregan heeded you with a fire swirling within his gut. His hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, pushing beneath your silken shift until he found your cunt. Gods, you were wet already, a tantalizing thing, one that he found delight in.

“You are warm already, beloved.” Cregan’s thunderous timbre raked down your spine, effortlessly gaining your subservience with ease. You shivered, feeling his thick fingers deftly caress across your slit, teasing and toying with you, gathering your slick.

Feather-light touches would have to suffice as Cregan lazily pressed one digit against your clit. His mouth found the slender expanse of your neck, delivering hot, passionate kisses against your throat.

A simpering whine tore past your parted lips, one filled with such urgency as you shifted closer, writhing against the sensation of his hand. Any lick of friction would do, consuming your body with its amatory heat. He grunted into the hollow of your throat, kissing you wherever you could.

Your own mouth found the impressive bulk of his shoulder, seeking to bring your teeth into his flesh. A sonorous, rumbling grunt left your husband when you bit him, leaving behind the crescent marks of your teeth. If it weren’t for your pregnancy, he would’ve marked you in this way, too.

Seeking the softness of your mouth, Cregan’s mouth twitched into a threadbare smirk as he kissed you hard, letting it linger as his hand withdrew from your skirts. A groan of disappointment left you, but he intended on making up for it fully.

He moved off of the footlocker, planting a lasting kiss against your brow. Towering over you, Cregan’s shadow eclipsed most flickers of firelight, gray hues swirling with warmth as he bent the knee to you, his beloved. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that you reveled in.

His massive musculature bullied its way between your thighs, warm palms shifting to caress along your legs, from ankle to calf. He had never seen someone as resplendent as you, breathtakingly beautiful, the blood of the dragon, his wife.

Gathering your skirts within your hands, you fisted the silks, dragging them up until they pooled around your hips. Warm lips embraced the crook of your knee, peppering kisses across your leg, until he reached the velvet flesh of your inner thighs.

Your hips began to tilt forward, seeking the pleasant heat of his mouth, a heat that he gladly granted you time and time again. Cregan kissed his way to the slick warmth between your legs, a thunderous exhale escaping him, chest vibrating with a grunt.

Cregan gingerly adjusted your position, letting your legs rest against his broad shoulders, your back sloped against the furs and footboard of your bed. He pressed a kiss against your mound, nose buried near your pelvis before he made his descent.

A warm lap of his tongue dragged itself over your core, like hot embers raking across your cunt. You sighed, blissfully succumbing to wanton desire, reaching for his crown of chestnut tresses, gripping at the back of his skull. “Cregan.” You whined, head rolling forward just a bit.

Pale waves framed your face, countenance contorted into an expression of sheer and utter bliss, brows furrowing together. Your husband happily found his solace between your legs, mouth pressing hot kisses across your cunt. His hand gripped at your haunch, the other trailing against your leg.

It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. Cregan lapped at your cunt, dutiful and attentive, ensuring to find every spot that made you gasp for air.

Nimble digits fisted into the furs at your side, mouth agape as a myriad of throaty moans escaped you. Your hand roamed through his tresses, tugging and pulling whenever his tongue graced the pearl of your cunt.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Any inkling of roughness had dissipated from him in the wake of your pregnancy, replaced with a passionate devotion, a rapture reserved only for you. His strong hands held you close, caressing you wherever he could.

You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.

A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again, seeking your sensitive pearl.

“Cregan!” Gods, he brought you such pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to seep into your very bones, sate your endless yearning, for now. Your legs curled inward, tight atop his shoulders as you rocked yourself into his mouth, doing little to suppress the volume of your moans.

He pressed closer with a wolf’s appetite, throat burning with carnal hunger as he continued to lap at your slick cunt. Your arousal felt honey-thick upon his tongue, something reserved only for him, chin glistening with your nectar. Your legs squeezed at his head, and he knew that he pleasured you well.

Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, a sensation that you had been longing to feel again. Cregan did not relent, yet he happened to slow just enough to savor you, dragging his tongue toward that clutch of nerves at the hood of your cunt.

As soon as he pursed his lips around your clit, you nearly forgot your own name, thoughts completely derailed, scattered into a blissful abyss. Your body reacted with shivers and tremors, hand gripping at the nape of his neck with a reckless abandon.

Your back arched slightly, collarbone glittering with perspiration through the thick, warm haze of your chambers. The hearth had brought about a feverish heat, coupled with the throes of your intimate entanglement. Cregan derived satisfaction from your pleasure, delighted to please his wife.

Pliant flesh filled his palm as he cupped your derrière, bringing you closer, letting you grind yourself against his mouth, use him and take whatever you needed. A grunt stirred within his chest, reverberating within his throat as he went about seeking your clit, suckling on the pearl of your cunt.

“Oh Gods,” You moaned, nearly clasping a hand over your mouth to hide the salaciousness of your voice. Surely, the servants had heard you by now — you would be fortunate if all of Winterfell didn’t hear you. “I — I’m close!” Rocking forward again, you let out a whimper.

With a strangled whine, you desperately chased after your release, one that you had sorely needed. Cregan’s cock twitched at the sound of your delicious moans, a shudder rolling down his spine whenever you whimpered his name. “That’s it,” He rumbled, hot breath fanning over your core. “Go on.” His encouragement was softly spoken through his Northern timbre.

He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal; a man wrought with starvation.

Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, gripping him tight. He wanted you to have your release, built upon this pent-up feeling.

He could feel your encroaching release, feel the tension in your grasp, the way you let your hips continue to lurch forward. Without relenting, Cregan continued to suck at your clit, letting it intermingle with hot laps of his tongue, dutiful and fervent between your legs.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.

At last, your peak consumed you in a white-hot oblivion, and you very nearly saw the stars themselves. With a strangled gasp, your legs tightened on either side of his head, followed by a blissful rush of liquid heat. Your grip began to slack upon his tresses, chest heaving from exertion.

Cregan lingered there for a few moments more, tongue caressing your cunt, cleaning up any last drop of your nectar. His mouth glistened with it when he did inevitably withdraw, lashing across his lips before he kissed your thighs, showering you in affection.

“Do you feel better?” He mused, kissing the crook of your knee before standing to his feet. You were positively hot, feeling a feverish warmth crawl across your skin, thighs shaking in the aftermath. You hastily adjusted your slip, regarding him with a gracious expression.

“Very much,” Your confession made him smirk as he helped you into bed, abandoning his tunic at the iron-wrought foot. As he settled down, you joined him, curled within the space at his side. “Would you like me to return the favor?”

Cregan never expected you to do anything that you didn’t want to — never feel obligated, either. He would survive without a night of release. “Tomorrow, perhaps.” He murmured, moving to rest a hand against the swell of your stomach, caressing your growing bump.

“Thank you, husband — for everything.” A gentle hum left you as you placed your hand over his, allowing him to protectively cradle your stomach. You let your head rest against his shoulder, his arm holding you at his side.

A bemused huff escaped him as he peered at you with mirthful hues, gray eyes that resembled a thunderstorm. “You needn’t thank me,” He assured, briefly pressing a kiss to your temple. “You needn’t ask for it, either.” Cregan enjoyed the taste of your cunt more than anything else.

You couldn’t help but smile, sheepishly moving to press a kiss against his jaw. “I love you,” You sighed, letting your ardor for him be known as you felt your eyes grow heavy. “Tomorrow, I would like for us to see Silverwing. She grows lonely in my absence.”

Cregan knew how much the creature meant to you. He had met Silverwing before, but he dared not climb upon her back — you’d asked it of him several times before. “Of course, beloved.” He murmured, basking in the heat of the firelight.

A sharp, fluttering sensation blossomed throughout your abdomen, prompting you to gasp. It was sudden and unexpected, but not painful. It was foreign, and had been happening on rare occasions.

“What is it?” Cregan questioned, visibly concerned before you dismissed it with a bright, delighted smile. You gently guided his hand elsewhere atop your stomach, pale brows furrowing together as you searched for the source.

“There,” You mused, joyous laughter escaping you as another kick fluttered against your joined hands. “Do you feel it?” It was heartwarming to watch the happiness glisten within his eyes, the way in which he adjusted his position to truly feel. Cregan’s true smiles were a rarity, and you saw it now.

The blood of the wolf and the dragon stirred within, prompting you to smile appreciatively at your husband. This was something the both of you had made with your love, the heir to Winterfell. “They seem strong,” Cregan remarked, leaning over to plant a kiss against your brow. “Perfect, just like their mother.”

His hand never left your belly, even as he maneuvered the furs over the both of you, letting you move to lay against the warm expanse of his chest. Cregan exhaled, staring into the dying embers of the heart, tracing his digits along the swell of your stomach.

“Strong, just like their father.” You whispered, pressing a kiss against his jaw before you settled down for slumber, shielded by the protective grasp of your Lord-husband.

[nadas-dirthalen]

Dragon Age: the Veilguard Was Packed with Lore — But Many of Us Overlooked It

— PART ONE — [ 2 ]

Welcome back, friends and travellers. If you've been here a while, you'll know that I wrote 30,000 words of predictions in the week and a half before DA:tV released. But here's the most surprising thing—I was right, for the most part.

I spent my first Veilguard playthrough grinning (and then sobbing) at all the lore reveals. And here's the thing: I think most of us missed a lot of them, including even me.

So let's begin with...

Titans: Dark and Light, Compassion and Rage, the Eternal Hymn and its Endless Listeners (1/2)

This is your warning: This post will contain spoilers for the entirety of Dragon Age: the Veilguard, and all Dragon Age content made before Veilguard.

Alright, pals. If you've been here a while, you know how this goes. I always start by listing what we're going to cover, like anyone who's never fully recovered from academia.

Today's Discussion:

What Veilguard (Re)Taught Us about the Titans

The Titans the first Shapers of the known world.

The Titans are beings of the Abyss.

The Titans are sleeping, dormant—but alive.

Dwarves are the Titans' children, created to tend them.

The Evanuris mined the Titans' bodies to create people.

The Titans—the Earth—fought back.

What Veilguard (Re)Taught Us about the Titans

The best thing about Dragon Age, as someone who loves the series to death, is that its worldbuilding is consistent, but also bears the unique quality that we, as players, are not aware of it all. Our protagonists in each game don't know everything; the people they learn from also don't know everything. We learn what we can through codices that are all biased and need an extra layer of decoding. This is a feature, not a bug.

It also means that we did not know how to understand the Titans before. Even my 30,000 words of theorycrafting, especially my piece all about the Titans, had elements of speculation. I had to check that speculation against other sources like the Chant of Light, which is a source that we REALLY did not know how to decode when it was revealed piece by piece in DAO, DA2, World of Thedas, and Inquisition.

Here, I'm going to break it all down, piece by piece.

The Titans were the first Shapers of the (known) world.

It is said in the Descent DLC that Titans are enormous beings whose singing shapes the world. Their existence predates much of Thedas, if not all of it. The Titans are called the first Shapers for this reason, and in Veilguard it is restated several times over that they did, indeed, shape the world—for instance, by Cole in Inquisition.

"Their ancient shapers were mountains drawn of all their wills, walking their memories into valleys of the world." —Cole dialogue.

Inquisition told us so much more about the Titans than just that, though. The Titans have a realm all their own, a counterpart to the Fade, mentioned over and again in the Chant of Light and referenced as a quest name in Inquisition.

Here lies the abyss: the well of all souls.

The Titans are beings of the Abyss.

Now, it's important that I mention right here that the Chant of Light has existed long before Inquisition. In fact, its tale is what opens DA:O as the game begins. Recently Eurogamer stated that BioWare has had a massive lore document for the 20+ years of its existence, and I believe that there is no truer example of this than in the Chant of Light itself.

The Abyss, for a long time, was a mystery to us. Inquisition cleared it up a lot—not only with its game content, but with World of Thedas' publication shortly thereafter.

Not only is the Abyss referred to in many elven codices, but we go there. The key locations of the Descent DLC—the Forgotten Caverns, Bastion of the Pure, and the Wellspring—are in a region called the Uncharted Abyss.

Now, with Harding, we go deeper into the Deep Roads than the average dweller. The same is true in that instance: venture down far enough, and we reach a Titan's heart.

We find a Titan's heart there. But the Titan does not wake—none have before DA:tV, and even then, they have not fully woken. Because, for as long as we have known...

The Titans are sleeping, dormant—but alive.

"It's singing. A they that's an it that's asleep, but still making music." — Cole dialogue.

There is so much Cole dialogue in Inquisition that speaks on the sleeping Titans, on their old songs that once sang the same, on how they will never wake up, that it would be folly to try and post every codex here. Suffice it to say: Cole knows of the Titans, knows of their songs, and knows they are asleep. He is one of the pathways to our knowledge of the Titans in Inquisition, and his words are peppered throughout the game.

The Chant of Light also makes reference to a mountainous Maker, who oft speaks about a forgotten mountain. When Andraste meets the Maker "in darkness unbroken," specifically, these words are used:

The Maker Appears to Andraste (7) Eyes sorrow-blinded, in darkness unbroken There 'pon the mountain, a voice answered my call. "Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing, An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown. — Andraste 1:7

Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing — a being who has been broken, but whose heart still beats. We can hear that, in the Descent DLC.

Veilguard confirms that both sources are true through Harding, her personal quest, and the codices for the Dwarven people.

Records that exist outside of Orzammar mention "great sleeping Titans" and "the First Ancestors." — Codex Entry: Harding's Notes: Orzammar and Titans

Harding's experiences in Veilguard, in this way, serve to prove Cole right. That is a deliberate narrative choice: BioWare's way of saying, Yes, this is true. Yes, you should take Cole's take on Titans as correct.

We also know, from Cole, that this state of being is permanent. Not only are the Titans asleep, but they don't know how to wake.

Songs screaming far away. It wants to wake up but can't remember how. No one should be here. — Cole dialogue.

This becomes crucial information in Veilguard, and central to the main plot. It serves as the backdrop for what actually matters most to the characters living in Thedas right now, which is...

Dwarves are the Titans' children, created to tend them.

By now, a lot of people have seen this reveal in the art book: the dwarves were created to tend to their Titan hosts/makers. But we knew this before—we just didn't know it in context, and therefore we did not believe it to be objectively true of Thedas.

In truth, we've known about the elves and the dwarves' origin since the Chant of Light came out in full with World of Thedas volume 2.

At last did the Maker From the living world Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth, With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities. — Threnodies 5:5

I talk about it in more depth in my Chant of Light dissection, but what this verse says in context is that the dwarves (the Maker's second children) are beings crafted by the maker: bodies made of lyrium, souls made of the same "dream and idea, hope and fear" as the original spirits.

This concept has already been massively hinted toward with both Valta (who has become The Oracle in DA:tV) and Dagna, who both connect to isatunoll during Descent and Inquisition's base game, respectively.

We've known about the Evanuris' horrible crimes since before Inquisition, as well, for the same reason and from the same verses in the Chant of Light.

Until, at last, some of the firstborn said: "Our Father has abandoned us for these lesser things. We have power over heaven. Let us rule over earth as well And become greater gods than our Father." (8) The demons appeared to the children of earth in dreams And named themselves gods, demanding fealty. — Threnodies 5

With the context given to us by Trespasser and Veilguard, we know without a doubt that the Evanuris are those "jealous spirits" that comprise the Maker's first children.

And just like the Chant describes, they sought to conquer the earth: the realm of the Titans.

The Evanuris mined the Titans' bodies to create people.

Trespasser taught us so much of what we needed to know about the Evanuris' and Titans' conflicts. Its codices in the Deep Roads outline how it was Mythal, specifically, creating some of the first elves in the coffins found in that zone. The Temple of Solasan features coffins of the exact same kind.

Ir sa tel'nal Mythal las ma theneras Ir san'a emma Him solas evanuris Da'durgen'lin Banal malas elgara Bellanaris, bellanaris. — Codex: Torn Notebook in the Deep Roads, Section 3

My (updated) translation: Isatunoll Mythal gives you dreams Lyrium within Becomes Solas evanuris Little stone boy You give nothing to the Titan (anymore) Forever, forever.

Trespasser reveals that Mythal mined the bodies of slain titans and rendered their demesne unto the People: she conquered Titans and used their bodies for her own ends. The hints about these actions, however, are not exclusive to Trespasser, nor to Solasan. These seeds were planted all the way back at the Temple of Mythal.

Elgar'nan, Wrath and Thunder, Give us glory. Give us victory, over the Earth that shakes our cities. Strike the usurpers with your lightning. Burn the ground under your gaze. Bring Winged Death against those who throw down our work. Elgar'nan, help us tame the land.

This codex to Elgar'nan makes reference to Elgar'nan giving victory over the Earth (capital-E, the Titans). Trespasser would follow this up with much context—that it was Mythal who was first known to have slain Titans, "rendering their demesne unto the People."

I theorized that Mythal's mining of Titans for lyrium to make elvhen bodies was what angered the Titans, based on codices in Trespasser and the Temple of Solasan. (I go into much more depth there!) Veilguard confirms this theory in Solas' Memory #4: A Memory of Manifestation.

Solas: I have the Fade. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form. When you took the glowing stone to build your body, did the earth not shake? Mythal: The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade. We are the best of physical and spirit.

Mythal's crime was what took the war with the Titans in a new, darker direction. It was what would set off the chain of events that would change the very nature of the world—and it was foreshadowed, back in Inquisition, by Cole.

The Titans—the Earth—fought back.

"They made bodies from the earth, and the earth was afraid. It fought back, but they made it forget." — Cole dialogue.

In this post, I theorized that it was Solas' creation itself that caused the first Titan to "go red." That is to say, to change its nature and fight back. I used codices from Trespasser and Solasan to get there, as well as one paragraph from World of Thedas and this codex on Fen'Harel that describe the Forgotten Ones as "beings of terror, malice, spite, and pestilence."

Thinking about those words, and specifically terror, I read the codex in the secret Deep Roads room in Trespasser with fresh perspective.

For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast.

Terror. The first of the turned Titans. The fire/plant/ice imagery also caught my eye, and when I went back to Solasan to check, there were many hints that this was, indeed, where Terror came into being. (For more, go look at the most recently linked post in this section!)

Huge implications for Solas aside, what this codex taught me is that Titans' natures could change. This was confirmed in Veilguard many times over, yes—but my point here is that Inquisition taught this to me, just a few days before I gained the context of Veilguard. This was never a retcon! However, this lore plays exactly to BioWare's rules: we did not have the full context, and so almost no one read that Deep Roads codex as it was meant to be interpreted—including me, the first few times I read it!

It was only when I'd seen the achievement icons before Veilguard's release that it all clicked for me. All of the lore of Inquisition and everything before it made sense. That was never a bug, never a retcon, but a genius twist on BioWare's behalf: one that almost no one guessed at for an entire decade.

One that changes everything.

Titans, we know for certain now, behave as spirits. Obscure hints in World of Thedas, Inquisition, and the previous games have been confirmed in Veilguard. This new understanding changes not just the Titans, not just the dwarves, but reframes everything we know about the entire history of Thedas and how its magic system works.

______

Thank you for reading! It means a lot when people engage with these. And don't worry: I'm not nearly through with them. It's taken me a while to compile everything, but with more of Veilguard added to the wiki every day, it's a lot easier to compile things for these posts!

(Immense thanks to the wiki staff, of course. <3)

Up Next: Titans and Spirits are far more similar than we think, and it means everything.

[heartfullofleeches]

Offer me your flesh... Not like that

Yan Cultist + Forest Entity/Deity Reader [+18 mdni]

Warnings/Tags: Breeding, monster fucking but you are the monster, tentacle peen, slight size difference/kink, brief mentions of gore/blood but not related to the fucking dw

The watcher of the woods.

A creature known by many names for none of which it cared but remained its mantle to claim. Skin akin to aged bark; horns rooted from the base of its skull like the curving arches of branching trees - the beast towered over all sort of man and earned its title for its eyes. Rare were nights starless, but upon an eve without a single dot in the sky it was common to find them hiding out in the trees. As ancient stories foretold - it's said that on those days the guardian of the forest used all its strength even the light of the stars to lead lost souls home. Imposing as it may be, the creature was a peaceful giant, protecting its land and those who treated it in kind, but as legends of old often became lost in translation - it too fell to the hapless adulteration of time and unwavering, blind devotion.

The worship of humans was a peculiar mistress. Old as the soil itself, the watcher predated the existence of mortals in the region and civilization as a whole. When the founders of the town at the base of the hills culled its land to build the foundation their homes - the watcher taught them cultivate the furtile ground and keep peace. It consindered all who entered its lands as members of its flock - no matter how strange they may be.

For the majority, the humans adored their new guardian. The teachings of gods known before where easily tossed aside in favor of a new master. Caring as it may be- the watcher's fair intentions were mistrude as otherwise when it was found to take the bodies of those lost forever to the forest back to the mountains where it lived. It had seen the way humans stored their dead and wanted to honor their cultures as best it could. Its followers mistook its deeds as a call for sacrifice from the crop it had harvested - and who were they to deny their God.

Those who oppose and those who worked their entire lives towards the ultimate goal of being sacrifice to their God were the first to face death. Blood drained; bodies butchered and displayed on the forest floor like fine feasts. Their God was not pleased with their actions and was repulsed by the smell of human blood; diet consisting purely of what its land birthed and the occasional scraps left behind by the natural hunters of the woods.

The humans would sacrifice those worthy at mass and considered new loses to be god's will. It was seen as sacrilegious to return after a night lost in the woods. The watcher lost favor in their humans through these massacres- and the heart wrenching sobs of a lost hiker it had savecthroughly mislead in their worship and bestowed their false knowledge on new generations - but there was one thing they had gotten correct with their research and discoveries involving their lord.

A shift in behavior - marking the change between seasons summer and fall. The watcher's hardened shell withered and softened into thicker, mossy flesh; antlers curling twice as thick and pained whines the kind to send anguish into the hearts of all beings if not for the pleading moans and scents it gave off. The guardian longed for mate - just like every creature in its forest.

In true alignment with their predecessors, the new age failed to realize the correct way to approach their God in such a sensitive state accordingly. Bathing in the blood of the fallen and wandering naked through the wounds - it repulsed the creature so it fled into premature hibernation to rid itself of the aches and frustration. Doomed for entity - the only of its kind; the watcher suffered countless falls with release. It no longer desired the company of man yet yearned for embrace. Alone, wretched, miserable - the watcher imagined its remaining years trapped in endless parallel and pain... and yet as with the seasons-

All things change.

It happened as the trees were stripped of their bearings and nights grew fringed. A musk within range of the watcher's natural intensity wafted over the forest. The fresh dew of spring and the warmth of summer - two elements that brought the creature comfort in harrowing times. Following the scent, the lewd slick of flesh and muffled moans overlap - flooding the lesser god's loins with familiar ache and need.

The watcher tread out into the clearing to find a human perched beneath one of its trees - fingers at work between their legs and shirt tucked between their teeth. A circle of candles and incense surrounded them; a bed of leaves and spare blankets cushioning their body from the hard floor. The tee helped between their teeth was the same color as the moss encasing the local deity's body and the emblem of its horns. A ranger - one that bares resemblance to a face once riddled with fear; now barring the opposite emotion. Lowering the match the mortal's height, the watcher did as it does best - studying the human's acts of self pleasure with intent. Startled by a pitched whine, it's antlers knock against the trees as it lurches.

"You're finally here, huh? Kept me waiting."

The watcher reals as the ranger spreads their legs, fingers plunged deep as they wiggle their hips at the air.

"Don't be shy... We have a special connection you and I.... I'm talking to you."

With a soft chitter - you exit the trees. Stalking forward on all fours, you sniff at the human's arousal as your snout draws against their skin. Black tongue wagging, it sweeps their tender flesh pleased to find no traces of acidic blood and a hint of ripe fruits instead. Enthralled with their taste and scent, the fright as they bring a hand up to your face is enough to cause second retreat. They coo, swallowing the stimulation of being in their lord's presence, and reach out - free hand carding through their hair.

"Hey - hey, don't panic- You remember me, don't you? I was that hiker you saved a few summers back. I always thought the legends were bullshit, but I was still afraid of the unknown. It turned out to be beautiful - my soul mate. See this? I got it when I fell in the river and hit my head on the rocks."

A dated scar bleeds through their hairline. You snort, breath fanning their neck as you cage them to the trees with your larger body, awaiting their next move. Faith unwavering - their hands skim and carcass your torso, glinding through the mossy fur down to the build up of your tension. Teasing the sheath with their nimble digits, you shutter - legs parting as a tendril the color of the night sky and thick as the ranger's thigh unfurls from the slit. Quick to work, the human slides under you - both hands at the base of your appendage. You whine as their lips haul your girth in a trail of kisses - length traveling the side of their face as they reach your thigh.

"You must be in so much pain. So many years with everyone in town going about things the wrong way. It's crazy to think I'm the only one to have figured things out - but it just further proves we're meant to be. Don't worry - I'll take all of your loneliness and pain away."

You don't bother to piece together what their saying. The exhales between each word heightened your sensitive to their mouth riding up to the tip of your growth - lips wrestled slack by the weight pressed to them. You cushion their head and neck with one hand as you thrust, seeking the heat of their mouth. The tendril, slick as it may be - only hits quarter way before the human chokes; the convulsions of their throat drawing a pleased hum from your throat which drones into a concerned murr at the tears lacing their flashes. You pull free - bending down to lap at their face. The ranger's heart swells seeing the light of their god's eyes shine for them solely.

"Don't worry about me - I've prepped for this day since you sent me home. My body is a vessel for your desire - and our future seedlings."

Lost in translation - you get the general picture as they on their back, body displayed for your taking. Devotion engraved into their very being and supple flesh free of damage - this is all you've ever lusted for. The mortal body at your beck and call, captured in its purest beauty. You press forward - crying out in pure frustration and agony as your tendril glossing over its intended target. Rutting and huffing through desperate attempts - your follower guides through your eagerness and their own dire need, and angles themself properly beneath you - wind knocked from their lungs as you sink in at last.

Pushed to edge by every muscle contracting around you, and the sweet relief of finally, finally- obtaining an outlet for your insufferable heats - you howl in frenzied glee. Wasting no time, you start off at a brute pace - jowls snapping in rhythm to each slap of skin. Your follower mewls along with you, hands based on your torso - praying the entirety of the town below can hear your unity. Their stomach bulges with the outline of your tendril and they clench around you conjuring the swell of your young.

"Yes! Ah! My love - breed me! I've waited for this for so long. Take me as you. Give me your love, your young - anything, please!"

Their worship is cut short by the infiltration of your tongue down their throat. Choking as they did on your cock - their eyes dart back as you pin their knees to chest, steady on yours as you plow them into the makeshift bedding. The slick plap of their wetness dragging you back in and the suction of it drives you deeper with every grind. The lack of oxygen from your tongue altering the flood of air makes their muscles tighten further - ripping the first orgasm of the eve out of you as your talons pucker their flesh. Stilling momentarily - thoughts overload with the realization of your true purpose in this realm. Breeding every hole offered to you.

The smell of blood premonating your scents does little to waver the force and intensity of your release - years, decades of build up breaching as you slam against them - pursuing that increasing, staggering high. Your cum floods their hole - leaking around your cock and down their thighs. Rubbing your cheek against their head, you lazily fuck nearly every drop back into them as they twitch and spasm around you. The blessing of being the first real sacrifice to their God was tear inducing.

Your tongue pulls from their mouth, licking salty tears and saliva as apology for nearly asphyxiating them. Your follower gasps and pants, lips formed in conversation but missing the voice to speak. You slip out of them, fluids gushing from their stuffed hole. The sight causes another stir in your nether reigion. Picking them up like an oversized doll, you lean back against the tree as you lower them into your lap - this time being the one to guide your tendril into their greedy hole. Head rolling back, a hand shoots out to grab your horns as you rock upwards into them. Pleasure rocks your very core as they hold onto your sensitive mounts, hands climbing with each bounce. Your cock throbs as they eventually catch on and pour the remainder of their strength into rubbing every curve and bump of your antlers.

Mouth agap - the skin of their shoulder catches in your teeth. Having lost all restraint and repulsion in the stench you bite down, marking as they likely desired. An assumption proven seconds later as a scream tears out of them, body stuttering as they cum around your appendage. Your hand pads their stomach, adding surface for you to better fuck your squirming length into them. You take both of their wrists into your hands - slamming them back on your cock as you finish at the end of their peak - overestimating their shot senses as your length spasms against their fleshy walls. More of your spend leaks from them as you pull out which they shove back as you slump against the ground still cradling them in your arms. The ranger attacks your jaw and chest in kisses, warming your tendril with their thighs and rubbing their own sex against it. Your eyelids fall heavy, twinkling lights dimming. The ranger nestles into your chest - fatigue on the horizon but job far from complete.

"We'll be amazing parents someday. I'm so happy you chose me. Rest now - I'll take care of everything else from here on. Sweet dreams, Dear~"

A new scent - the smell of pine needdles in the winter. Winter - the season when you fell into a deep sleep."

[davidstortebeker]

The Permaculture Spiral Garden - A Great Starting Point

There is probably no other structure as popular for illustrating Permaculture in practice as the Herb Spiral. Okay, I guess I could mention the lasagna sheetmulching method or also the cob oven that tends to be the first hands-on project at a typical Permie intro session. But when it comes to showing how landscape design, zones and sectors, stacking functions, and efficient use of space and water come together in one unique structure, the Spiral Garden is unbeatable.

Turning Theory into Practice

In typical Permaculture Designer Certificate courses, but even in brief intro weekends to Permaculture, there tends to be a lot of theoretical discussions. Since the numerous design principles can be applied to any climatic region, from the tropical to the subarctic, and on any scale from the humongous to the tiny, the practical aspects of the ideas can easily get lost. That's where a good hands-on application comes, where the participants get to move around rocks and dirt, while realizing how much it ties in to the concepts they've just discussed. This way the apparent "main purpose" of "building something to grow all your kitchen herbs on", becomes a neat side feature.

Adjust Your Landscape!

The first thing to realize that landscape is welcome to be modified and adjusted to bring out the best in it. Clearly, while it is important to work with what's there already, it doesn't hurt think about mounds and valleys. And before you bring out the excavators for your large-scale farm, it makes sense to start small… say on a circle of 2-5 meters (6-16 feet) diameter. In other words, the Spiral Garden is a hill with a spiral shaped surface, leading down to ground level, or further down into a water hole. It can be made out of rocks, bricks, concrete debris, or anything else you have lying around that can hold your soil.

Design According to Your Scale

Looking around for existing Herb Spirals it's easy to get confused. Some are so big you can actually climb on them (that is, you have to in order to reach what's growing on top). Others are so tiny that you may not even want to step on them. The question is: which size is the right one for you? Since this is something you will have to decide almost daily in Permaculture, it doesn't hurt starting out with this important question.

Organizing Your Spiral Garden

While there are seemingly endless types of Spiral Gardens, there are a few things they all have in common: They all start out with a region on the top, where water is bound to run off right away, leaving the soil relatively dry. This area is also the most exposed to the wind. Keep this in mind when choosing the plants that are going to live here. Ideally, the spiral should start sloping toward the East from here. Delicate plants that benefit greatly from the morning sun will appreciate this region. As the slope continues toward the South and West, it becomes more suitable for sun loving species. Finally, as the spiral reaches the ground level in the shady Northern part, it will be perfect for herbs that prefer less sun, more shade and more water, since the soil tends to be wetter here. (Note: This is for the Northern Hemisphere. In the Southern Hemisphere North and South are reversed.) To make full use of the runoff water, many people add a small pond at the base of the spiral, where additional aquatic plants, such as watercress, can be grown.

The given illustration offers a good number of herbs for a nicely diverse kitchen. Depending on what else you want in your Herb Spiral, you can add it in the most suitable region. Mint and lemon balm love the cooler, shady part with more water. Lemongrass is great in the sunny area, and tarragon and estragon prefer the dry top of the spiral. Of course, the idea is not limited to kitchen herbs. For maximalists, the same theory can work with a mountain you might want to terraform into a spiral farm. But right now I'd prefer to stay small scale.

Plenty of Benefits (That's Why It's Permaculture)

As explained above, the main purpose of the Spiral Garden is not only to increase your gardening area by making use of the vertical, but also to create diverse climatic conditions, which do make a difference on the smallest scale. But as Permaculture tends to be, there are many other benefits to it. The structure itself offers great habitat for numerous animals, such as frogs, salamanders, lizards, but also pollinating insects, and of course others that may not directly benefit us, but by feeding on others they all add to the stability of our ecosystem. The structure itself will suppress weeds and make use of material that you're not likely to use elsewhere. Finally, depending on the size and location, it will be an ideal place to grow all your kitchen herbs right where you can access them most easily.

Some Things to Keep in Mind

When building the structure, make sure it will contain the soil in a nice trough, slanting slightly inward. That way bits and pieces that fall off will roll towards the center, until contained by the main mound.

Make sure the slope is always nice and gradual, avoiding sudden drops where the water can rush down quickly, eroding the soil.

If you're going to walk on your spiral, include a separate walkway that won't compress good soil. Most importantly, it should be sturdy enough to provide stability and make access safe.

Don't forget that while the structure is important to keep the soil in place, it is the soil that you'll be growing plants in. So it should have a good depth of 20-50 cm (8-20 inches) throughout the entire spiral. This can be the trickiest part!

Apply your own observation to which plants do better in which parts of the spiral. Also, with time you will find many other plants growing in it that you didn't plant. Before removing them, consider how much they actually bother your herbs, and whether their benefits may not outweigh their drawbacks.

Go Out and Build Your Own!

I hope this brief overview got you inspired to go out and try building an Herb Spiral yourself! I would love to hear your experiences with it!

Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4

[ranticore]

What are some mythological monsters from Siren? Are any of them actually real? 👀 (some visual references appreciated if you're able...)

i was going to save this to draw something but don't think i'll have the time to work on it

some mythological monsters (really limited list tbh you can imagine that almost every community has their own take)

false phocid/doppelganger/mirror self/etc - this creature can be glimpsed at a distance and appears very similar to you, baby phocid, but you must never swim out to greet them. the mirror self will only swim further and further away, tempting you to follow, until it traps you in unfamiliar territory or even an evil maze, a place that resembles no place you've ever been before. moral of the story: don't trust strangers/teaching basic fear of the unknown

Tel!am - this is more of a godlike being than most mythological monsters, and can be found in the stories of people from the southern hemisphere. Tel!am is the seafloor itself, which is why deadly aerated water, which seeps up from cracks in the seafloor, is known as Tel!am's Blood/Breath/etc. Tel!am is asleep most of the time but wakes during rare high tide events, during which they rage against the moons and smash up any land/infrastructure/people that happen to get in their way. moral of the story: if there's a high tide forecast you need to get the fuck out of there

Odr - kind of an inverse of Tel!am, supposedly Odr was a giant selkie from the northern hemisphere who took on various heroic challenges to prove their might. They shaped much of the ice-caps by fighting monsters and enemies there (every stroke of their fighting spear would carve a new mountain or whatever, that kind of tale) before growing so sleepy that they curled up and fell into a slumber at a point in the icecaps now known as Odr's Sleep, became buried in snow, and is now only exposed during low tide events. the world as we know it will probably end if the tide gets low enough to reveal Odr entirely, causing them to wake. moral of the story: if there's a low tide forecast you need to get the fuck out of there

Kin/Ruler of the High Tide/Ishmael - in the western continent it is believed that there is a common ancestor for all phocids who arose from this region and that's how we got phocids, who were born when this ancestor raised a high tide. which is straightforward enough. but as people spread further and further from the western continent and settled more remote places, the legend grew legs and kind of morphed into 101 different cautionary tales about a morally-neutral trickster character who, again, might end the world if he raises another high tide, or might birth a new generation of sirenians. moral of the story: you guys should be writing your history down better probably

The Endless Kattakati - this one comes from zetas in the eastern continent. In the past it was common for zeta packs of up to twenty individuals to all be in one kattakati (i.e all of them were considered to be One Single Entity, like a culturally eusocial rather than biologically). there are surviving stories of a potential future, like a different fork in the path of history, that resulted in every single zeta being in ONE kattakati. a single person with tens of thousands of bodies. whether or not this idea is a comfort to them varies of course; the more traditionally-minded might think it sounds very peaceful, while those more integrated with outside cultures and people might see it as a frightening tale of assimilation and loss of individuality. some say that it could happen in the future, too, if only they could sum up the will to try. moral of the story: peace and community are within reach if only we set aside our differences more/oh god oh no oh fuck

longwing visors in general - with each one being tied to a specific character, some of them do happen to be monstrous in nature. flying monsters are a common theme - usually based on recreations of the large, winged metal caskets in which many visors were first unearthed. these creatures were said to plague the first generations of longwings, ruling the skies and attacking anything around them, until mysteriously they all died, transferring their powers of long-distance communication and foresight into the visors inside their bodies. moral of the story: sorry you got stuck with a visor with monstrous baggage i guess you're kind of a monster now too

the Night-time Professor - if you join the university at the Spire as a new student you might hear stories of a strange apparition that flies through the hallways and lecture rooms at night. that's actually a ghost of a scholar who got sick and died while working on his thesis, but that's no fucking excuse for not turning your work in on time so he's STILL out there working on it and won't be allowed to pass on until he's finished. moral of the story: we don't accept sick notes and you're not getting that deadline extension

[sgiandubh]

Flaunting the narrative

I just came back from a nice dinner & drinks in town, with friends who visit from Athens. Lo and behold, my DMs are on fire again, but my (in)famous Inbox is, as expected, resoundingly quiet. [Later edit: not for long].

It would seem S's latest interview for yet another one of those glossy magazines one usually spots untouched in any random Main Street dentist's cabinet or real estate office did manage to raise a couple of eyebrows, after all. With very few data publicly available, Flaunt Magazine is the kind of media outlet with four times less Instagram followers than S, so this begs the question to whom the murder interview really profits:

There is very little out there about Flaunt Magazine, indeed. Other than it was founded in September 1998 by three amigos (Alex Barajas, Jim Turner and Long Nguyen), all of whom were also part of the editorial team of the (now defunct?) Detour Magazine, there is virtually nothing else. This does or should ring a bell about the real importance and relevance of this media stunt - not much to add here, either. Other than that, past issues of Flaunt seem to be traded between fans of celebrities who (more or less) regularly grace its pages, in what I do think are paid/in kind op-eds written by people with no clear professional print, in agreement and by prior arrangement with the talent's PR:

Compared to Flaunt, a real lifestyle press behemoth such as Harper's Bazaar (this blogger has subscribed to for many years, ahem) has a quite different audience level and marketing approach:

Six times more Instagram followers and a clearly more friendly pricing policy:

[Sorry, what I managed to find is the UK offer - blame it on their regional settings, I suppose: however, I think the US offer might not be that different].

In other words, I am beginning to suspect more and more Flaunt is that kind of vanity/hybrid press product, where costs and risks are more or less evenly split between the printer/publisher and the client. Therefore, you would be naive to expect anything else than some tightly controlled, neat-o narrative aligned content. Especially considering the targeted audience, which is (of course) the American fandom, albeit with a tinge of 'sophistication' and a totally artificial 'whimsical twist' (California, here I come).

Onwards to the candid bullshittery.

The article opens with a precise timeline reference:

[Source: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cy0g2p47xd5o]

Therefore, the interview happened somewhere between 11 and 14 October 2024, just about the time S was overseas and C was spotted having dinner in London with the Rothschilds and no Tracula in sight. And there is another thing that immediately screamed at me from that pixelated page: George Mallory. Which brought me exactly here:

Yes, absolutely. The Golden Goose that never was. That still hurts, judging by the melancholy with which S talks about Everest, not climbing it after all, still planning to visit next December:

Perhaps with Jake Norton, a reputed Scottish American mountaineer (I think you were right on the money, darling - you know who you are, 😘😘❤️), S met and stroke a friendship with since 2023:

The December reference is not innocent at all. It is there to sparkle endless speculation about what S will be doing on Xmas and Hogmanay, too (and with whom, of course - and there you have all the factions dutifully served with an extra side of bullshite to dissect). Fan wars galore, fuming and flaming DMs and inboxes to boot. He/his PR know that and apparently they still need that Idiotenspiel at play for a while. Also, December's got 31 days, something that Stans worldwide seem to suddenly ignore.

Once the proper tone is set and given, the rest flows almost naturally: zero reference to C (1500% expected) and what is a clearly tailored, yet fizzling, bomb:

'I'm really on the precipice': now that is some extraordinary choice of words, isn't it? This and the 'I don't know' are probably the only authentic reactions in the very strange quote I underlined.

'Being on the precipice' is almost always negatively connotated. It logically has nothing to do with the idea of starting a new journey, but it has everything to do with the idea that he is now confronted with the lack of security and comfort and with the potential loss of notoriety the end of OL might bring. Something he very clumsily tries to disguise as 'I feel I'm no longer tied by Outlander', which must also be the counterfactual understatement of the year, really. There is legally and factually no way he wouldn't still be tied by Outlander, irrespective of how tedious that might feel. He still needs the Mommies' hardcore clientele pool, while he is commendably trying to diversify his sales and marketing strategy. These things do not happen in the blink of an eye and he knows it very well. However, he also really needs to portray himself as something else than a one trick pony, in order to remain bankable in Hollywood and elsewhere. Hence the 'I am not tied to OL anymore', I am able to do bigger and better things, and in the long run I would also like to make a springboard, not a dead end out of it.

Finally, there is no way he would be legally untied from OL. Contracts are still contracts. They include clauses and obligations that will be enforced most probably until after the show's last season will be aired. There is very little to zero leeway around it, for the time being. By the time those clauses and obligations will be rendered obsolete, very few of those Anons and Stans and Mommies and Onlies will still be around to even give a flying duck about the whole life situation.

And then, we have the 'maybe I'll start a family'. Despite what all of my Anons are shrieking right now in my inbox, this is not even the first time he hints at it, and I seriously do not understand why the sudden hysterical surge. Anons probably think I am amnesic, or something:

That is a direct quote from Waypoints. He announced nothing. It's been there, in plain sight, for a long time already and if anything, it is consistent with the narrative.

The rest is borderline irrelevant, visually and conceptually incoherent ('nude scenes are difficult and even dangerous to shoot, when dealt with in a non-professional way, but here is a shirtless bucolic pic that will make my Onlies drool and buy collector's issues at extortionate prices'). The overall impression it gave me was of a hastily cobbled and not very clever circumstance paper. Nothing more, nothing less.

There is no amount of wishful thinking that is going to immediately and magically change the current state of play. Reasonable people should expect mild, but constant turbulence ahead, with a sprinkle of cuteness and innuendo just to keep all the fandom's factions engaged and present, which translates to S/C/SC being relevant for potential employers, agents, the press, etc. In a nutshell, absolutely nothing new. You can screech, you won't change an iota of what I know is true and my position is firmer than ever, no matter how ridiculously hard you try to intimidate or harass me. That's all.

[elbiotipo]

Notes on a South Asian Tropical Cyrodiil (and more!)

So, many TES fans know that before Oblivion, Cyrodiil was supposed to be tropical. The most striking phrase to describe it, "most is endelss jungle", says it all. The quick and snarky explanation is that Todd Howard watched LOTR, was "inspired" by it, and that's why everything in Oblivion looks sort of like a Rennaisance Fair. In any case, I think it was a huge missed opportunity, especially in a world where most popular fantasy is European inspired, to have replaced what could have been very cool tropical enviroments with what is frankly a lame "Talos used his magic" lore retcon. You can read the 1st edition of the Pocket Guide to the Empire to see what we missed.

But it's not only Cyrodiil which we missed this way… Tamriel just makes more sense as a tropical continent. While the size and the exact location of the continent is discussed by nerdier nerds than me, I think it does make sense like this, and not only that, we have a very interesting world parallel to compare it to: India. From a tropical rainy south to the cold mountains of Skyrim, Tamriel is surprisingly similar to the Indian subcontinent, and many of its geographical quirks can be explained if, instead of assuming a temperate Cyrodiil, we go all out with that concept. This is going to be a long post, you have been warned.

So with that in mind, I'll try to make a not-so brief tour (with some evocative pictures along the way) of a rebuilt tropical Tamriel, following the rains of the moonson:

The position of Tamriel, in this case, would be roughly where the Indian subcontinent is located in real life, that is again, tropical, stretching the Tropic of Cancer (is there a name for the tropics of Nirn? Interesting to think about) Here, we see our numbers pan out well: Tamriel is mentioned to be between 4000 and 3000km across east to west and 2000 and 3000km south to north. VERY, VERY roughly, there is 4000km between Pakistan and Myanmar, and 3000km from Sri Lanka to the northern tip of Tibet. Plot that on a map, and you already can see some coincidences. Now, this is a rather average continent, not Pangea sized like some imagine Tamriel to be. This does help explain why, for example, the interior of Cyrodiil is rainy and good for agriculture instead of a desert. But it also means that it's very likely that Tamriel is ruled by monsoons. Monsoons are complex, but they basically form when there are plenty of warm places for water to evaporate (the South Indian ocean), and mountains that block cool winds from the opposite direction (the Himalayas). We have a very similar situation here, with a mountainous Skyrim on the north of a tropical Cyrodiil facing an equatorial southern ocean. So, what happens are monsoons, perhaps not as strong as IRL India, but carrying rains very deep into the continent. This would feed the rivers and the rich agricultural areas of Cyrodiil, and would have some other consequences.

So let's imagine our trip South to North. In the South, in Black Marsh, Blackwood and Lleyawiin, and Pellentine (southern Elsweyr) we would find, much like in the original lore, humid tropical climates, jungle, wetlands, and my favorite, mangrooves. I would expect mangrooves to stretch in this whole area, across rivers. In fact, one of the reasons why Black Marsh could be so hard to explore and control by the Empires at Cyrodiil would be the presence of thick mangrooves all over its coast. This is the region of Cyrodiil that would most resemble "endless jungle".

(Rice fields in India, what I imagine most of this Tropical Cyrodiil would look like)

However, as any lore person knows, Anequina, northern Elsweyr, is arid desert. Does this mean a contradiction? Far from it, we have a similar example in IRL India: the Deccan Plateau, which has a semi-arid to arid climate. This can be easily explained by higher elevations up to a small mountain chain separating it from Cyrodiil to the north, and the fact that little rain would reach behind this "Anequina Plateau" would make the region of Kvatch and Anvil more dry much like in canon, in this case, more scrublike. This highland desert would not be as harsh as Elsweyr is usually concieved, maybe, but its driest regions might justify places such as Dune. (On that matter, it always bothered me to read about the "cities" of southern Elsweyr and there being only two or three there. If I had to redesign it, I would move some from the north to the south).

(the Deccan Plateau in India, it gets greener or drier according to the monsoon)

Keeping on our tour of Tamriel, the Topal Bay and the very rainy Black Marsh funnels the rainy monsoon from the south towards central Cyrodiil. Here we find the endless jungle of the Nibenay Valley. But unlike the rainforests of Elsweyr and Black Marsh, these dense forests and rich river plains are mediated by the monsoon winds, with dry seasons alternating with copious rain. This has huge effects on agriculture and culture in general, as agriculture is defined by the rythms of the rain. Keeping with our South Asian theme and the 1st edition of the Guide to the Empire, Cyrodiil would have huge extensions of rice paddies, as well as terrace farming and much hardier crops in the highlands, instead of the… well, almost absent agriculture we saw in Oblivion. The food, clothing, architecture and overall culture of Cyrodiil would be very different with this. The original Pocket Guide said some of its main exports besides rice and fruit are moon sugar and silk. Moon sugar in Cyrodiil, can you believe it?

Another thing I imagine Cyrodiil would be famous for would be fish and seafood, well, river food. Rice plantations can host fishes and crustaceans to get some extra protein, and well, what about mudcrabs? Hell, as preparing muddy soil is vital for rice cultivation, no wonder mudcrabs are considered a nuisance. Imagining critters in gameplay in such an enviroment also makes my mind roam. Tigers, elephants, rhinoceros, and this is not even getting into the more mythical creatures you could find, instead of endless wolves… Rice cultivation is also more labor intensive than other crops, and it also has a deep impact on the terrain, "terraforming" so to say, huge expanses into paddies and terrace farms. This level of cultivation also requires an established infraestructure of irrigation. While this does not necessarily means a centralized goverment, as farmers can build it and maintain it by themselves, the rise of an empire, i.e., the Empire, will also increase the complexity of these systems, adding canals, dams, reservoirs and more ambitious projects, like we see in India and China. I am sure some people more knowledgeable about those cultures can comment more.

While this Cyrodiil is a tropical/subtropical region covered in "endless jungle", some parts might indeed resemble the rolling hills and grasslands you see in Oblivion. Deforesting jungle for pasture is something very common around the world (some have joked this mass deforestation was later in canon explained as a gift from Talos lol) and you can see the results, like in tropical Australia and my closer Mata Atlantica, do superficially resemble temperate pastures in say, Europe. Until you notice the palm trees, of course. But yes, I can see the Nords being a mostly herding people (more on that below) bringing their sheep and cows to the tropical lowlands and, well, deforesting to make space for them.

(ranches in Sao Paulo state, Brazil, notice the palm trees)

Imperial City just so happens to be built in an island in the middle of several river crossings, in what seems to be a swampland. The first thing that came to mind when I read that was Tenochtitlán. The districts of Imperial City would have been built over the centuries on artificial islands on a shallow lake, using plentiful mud and organic matter to make fertile chinampas. I believe this would make for a striking sight. Instead of just a city in the middle of a empty island, you would see the White-Gold tower and the rest of Imperial City rising from Lake Rumare, surrounded by rich farmland and its districts joined by walkways. (much like the old descriptions, actually, could you believe I wrote that without reading them?)

(Reconstruction of Tenochtitlán... and I just noticed, it's surrounded by (volcanic) mountains too, much like Imperial City)

Much like the Pantanal is one of the sources to the Paraguay River (which merges with the Paraná and then the Río de la Plata) IRL, here, the swamps of central Cyrodiil would be the source of the Niben. This does raise an interesting question, where is the source of the Niben? Is it Lake Rumare? No, I believe it would be several smaller rivers all the way from Bruma and even Skyrim. These small, violent mountain rivers eventually flow into the Rumare wetlands and only THEN in the placid great Niben. You DON'T want to be caught in one of the mountain valleys in rainy season. This does raise the question; won't the developments upriver, like Imperial City itself and the surrounding farmland, affect the course of the river downwards? There's plenty of water from the rain, but a more developed Cyrodiil might indeed have to grapple with this, supposing, for example, they manage to dam the river.

Looking west, we got the Colovian region, said to be composed of drier highlands and cliffs in the early Pocket Guide. Probably cut from the rain because of the Anequina Plateau, this is indeed more arid or "mediterranean", though I actually see it as more Australian. Maybe some of the drier parts near Hammerfell, resembling Argentine Cuyo and the northwest, would be a distant cry from the wetlands, having thorny dry forests and dry valleys, where yes, you could plant wine. The wetter cloud forests (much like the Yungas in South America, the place where the rain reaches last) could maybe be the home of the last pre-Imperial cultures of Cyrodiil. Fascinating places.

(Jujuy, Argentina. Just *near* are the Yungas cloud forests, where the last rains from the Atlantic meet the Andes, making for some AMAZING places)

Given that I mentioned enviroments near to/on the Andes IRL, let's talk about potatoes. Potatoes are unique crops, because they are the only ones who offer such calories and also be planted in cold enviroments like Europe. Or Skyrim. The discovery and spread of potatoes would cause demographic shifts on people living in cold areas. And they also originated in a unique enivorment IRL: the Andes, actually with possible hybridization from the Magallenic foresWHAT I MEAN, is that potatoes are very important and have been domesticated in very specific conditions. The Wroghtgarian Mountains would seem like a perfect equivalent of the Andes at the first glance, but they would be very different. The Andes, located between the Pacific Ocean and the greater Amazonian region, are very, very unique enviroments. These mountains, however, are in between inner seas. Something like the Atlas or the Alps? In any case, if there is some people who would appreciate hardy tubers that can grow in mountainous places, they are for sure the Orcs, or perhaps the Reachmen. Maybe an hybridization even between them?

This returns me back to Bruma and Skyrim. Some people (who make those excellent Oblivion mods) imagine Bruma with a Tibetan flavor. Personally, I imagine it more like Pakistan or Afghanistan, with lots of mesas and plateaus and valleys. It would look dry and rocky with some very fertile valleys by snowmelt, but it would look like a snowy wonderland on winter, indeed, Pakistan and Afghanistan are very snowy. Eventually, of course, ending up in the great barrier of the Jerall mountains and finally, Skyrim.

(the Alps? Skyrim? No, this is Kashmir on winter!)

In this scenario, Skyrim would be a quite dry place… or would it? There is no need for the Jeralls to be a straight line of peaks like the Himalayas. They could be a more "broken" series of mountains, like the southern Andes, but in any case, the rain from the south would clash into the higher mountains. Indeed, that is what actually happens in the Himalayas, the foothills of the Himalayas are some of the rainest places IN THE WORLD. These small valleys are something very unique and not very well known part of the world IRL. I can imagine the Skyrim equivalent would be as unique too, hard to navigate and live in. The forests of the Rift and Falkreath would be mazes of windy forests valleys, each with their own unique secrets under a perpetual fog and drizzle. This is a very interesting enviroment to imagine, where again, some of the older cultures of Tamriel could still live.

(forests of Bhutan, note how the humid valleys stretch into the distance before the cold Himalayas begin)

However, what does Skyrim look like once you cross the border with Ralof? I imagine some sort of more fertile Tibet, not as high as the Tibetan plateau, allowing for forest and alpine tundra. This is mostly because, while Skyrim is high up, I don't imagine as a plateau, but rather a series of broken mountains like the North American Rockies, which makes sense when you account for all the volcanic activity (there is another super-volcano down in Skyrim but nobody notices). I imagine that Skyrim would be a primarily herding pastoral land before the introduction of hardier crops such as potatoes, and even then. Nord culture would be very interesting reimagined like this; hillforts guarding herds of sheep and cows. It would also create a clash between the very, very agrarian south and the nomadic herding north, with High Rock and Hammerfell a gradient between the two.

But here we enter a problem; if we are operating on a level where Cyrodiil is roughly at the same latitude of India, wouldn't that make Skyrim too far from the poles to allow its tundra like climate, even with elevation? No doubt. Tibet is only as cold as it is because it's the roof of the world and far from any ocean. The northernmost tip Skyrim, like Tibet, would be at the latitude of Turkey, Korea or California, which can get quite cold, but not to the level of what we see on Winterhold or Dawnstar (Solitude sounds familiar, though). What's more, having an ocean up north would only moderate the temperature. Cool currents often don't bring cold per-se, just decrease rainfall. This would end with a very temperate and pleasant Skyrim instead of tundra. Which is on its own, interesting to explore.

Could Nirn be going through an ice age, like it's implied with the dissapearance of Atmora? Possibly, but it would imply revising everything I said before, as ice ages decrease rainfall and mess up with weather patterns all over the world. A colder Nirn would explain a lot, though.

I decide I will stop here, I haven't even touched Valenwood (though its subtropical forest seems rather coherent to me), High Rock (the most boring part of Tamriel IMO), Hammerfell, Summerset Islands (if you don't have tropical elves in your setting, you're a coward), or whatever the hell is going on Morrowind. But I hope you enjoyed this worldbuilding exercise and how to make sense of Tamriel's crazy geography. Next time, I'll try to play with tectonics and see if we can make it even more interesting.

If you liked what you read and would like more worldbuilding, consider tipping me on Ko-Fi and send me stuff to talk about, or just send an ask! I'm the kind of guy who reads encyclopedias and RPG manuals for fun, so I have plenty to talk about about everything from fantasy to science fiction to speculative evolution and alternate history!

[empyrealoasis]

An In-Depth Guide to World Building for Shifters 𓍯𓂃𓏧☾

This guide is designed for individuals who find scripting challenging and are looking for a thorough, step-by-step approach to help bring their desired reality to life. It aims to cover a wide range of essential elements, providing detailed prompts and questions to encourage creative thinking and help you craft a unique, immersive, and well-rounded script. Whether you're a beginner or someone who wants to refine their scripting process, this guide offers plenty of ideas and suggestions to ensure nothing important is overlooked. *Character Design Guide

1. The Foundation of Your Reality

Name and Significance:

What is the name of your reality?

Does it have a deeper meaning?

Who named it—its creators, the first settlers, or an external observer?

Shape and Structure:

Is your world a sphere, a flat plane, or something unconventional (e.g., a ringworld, floating islands)?

Does it exist in a single dimension, or does it span multiple dimensions or planes of existence?

Existence and Origin:

How did your world come into existence? Was it created by a divine force, a scientific anomaly, or natural evolution?

What events or forces shaped its current state?

Purpose of This World:

Why does this world exist? Is it a sanctuary, a testing ground, a haven for life, or something else?

Universal Rules:

What are the governing laws of nature (gravity, time, physics)?

Are there any unusual or contradictory rules (e.g., time flows backward in some regions)?

How is reality itself maintained? Is it fragile or robust?

2. Geography and Environment

Global Layout:

How many continents or landmasses exist? What are their names, and what defines each one?

Are there unique planetary features (e.g., floating continents, endless oceans, underground realms)?

Terrain and Landscapes:

What are the major biomes (e.g., deserts, forests, mountains)?

Are there distinct geological phenomena like volcanoes, crystal caves, or floating mountains?

Weather and Seasons:

How many seasons does your world experience?

Are weather patterns predictable, chaotic, or controlled by external forces?

Are there unique weather events, such as glowing auroras, rains of gemstones, or storm systems with sentience?

Natural Resources:

What resources are available (metals, magical crystals, exotic plants)?

Are these resources renewable, or is scarcity a driving force?

Flora and Fauna:

What types of plants dominate different regions?

Are there bioluminescent forests, carnivorous trees, or crops that grow overnight?

What creatures inhabit this world?

Are they based on Earth animals or entirely new creations?

Do any creatures have unique abilities, like shapeshifting or teleportation?

Are any species sentient or capable of communication with humans?

3. Societies and Cultures

Civilizations and Nations:

How many civilizations or nations exist?

What are their defining characteristics (e.g., technological, magical, or cultural)?

Do they have alliances, rivalries, or a history of conflict?

Cultural Diversity:

How do cultures differ across regions?

What are the dominant values or ideologies (e.g., honor, freedom, progress)?

Traditions and Celebrations:

What holidays, festivals, or religious events are celebrated?

Are there seasonal or celestial events that inspire rituals or ceremonies?

How do people mark milestones like birth, coming of age, marriage, or death?

Daily Life:

What does a typical day look like for an average person?

How do people spend their mornings, afternoons, and evenings?

Social Hierarchy:

Are societies egalitarian, hierarchical, or merit-based?

What determines social status (birth, wealth, achievements, magical ability)?

Languages and Communication:

How many languages are spoken?

What are some common greetings, idioms, or phrases?

Are there unique ways of communication (e.g., sign language, telepathy, or written symbols)?

Economy and Trade:

What is the primary form of currency (coins, barter, energy)?

What are the main exports and imports?

How do trade routes function, and are they safe?

Art and Expression:

What forms of art are popular (music, painting, sculpture)?

Are there unique styles or materials used?

Are artists respected or marginalized?

4. Technology and Tools

Technological Level:

Is the technology futuristic, medieval, steampunk, or something else entirely?

Are there advanced machines, or is everything handcrafted?

Energy Sources:

What powers technology (electricity, magic, sunlight, emotional energy)?

Are energy sources renewable or finite?

Transportation:

How do people and goods travel? Examples: flying ships, teleportation gates, sentient mounts.

Are roads, waterways, or air routes the primary mode of transportation?

Weapons and Defense:

What weapons are used in combat (swords, plasma guns, enchanted bows)?

How do people protect themselves (armor, force fields, magical wards)?

Everyday Tools and Gadgets:

What devices simplify daily life?

Are there any tools unique to specific professions?

5. Conflict and Tension

Global Conflicts:

Is the world at peace or in turmoil?

What are the sources of conflict (land, power, ideology, survival)?

Factions and Alliances:

Who are the key factions (nations, guilds, rebel groups)?

What are their goals and motivations?

Are there neutral groups or individuals playing both sides?

Villains and Threats:

Is there a singular antagonist or multiple threats?

Examples: a tyrannical ruler, an ancient curse, a rogue AI.

What motivates these threats, and are they sympathetic or purely evil?

Natural Disasters and Catastrophes:

Are there global events like earthquakes, super volcanoes, or dimensional rifts?

How do societies prepare for or respond to these events?

Internal Tensions:

Are there class struggles, political corruption, or religious divides?

How do ordinary people cope with these tensions?

6. Magic or Unique Elements

Magical Laws:

What is the source of magic (nature, gods, ancient artifacts)?

Are there limits to its use, or does it come at a cost?

Unique Elements:

What sets your world apart from others?

Example: A sun that whispers secrets to those who listen at dawn.

Artifacts and Relics:

Are there legendary items with immense power?

What are their origins, and who seeks to possess them?

7. Geography and Aesthetic Details

Architecture and Urban Design:

What do cities and villages look like?

Are buildings made of stone, metal, wood, or unconventional materials like glass or bone?

Fashion and Clothing:

What fabrics, colors, and patterns are most common?

Are clothes purely functional, highly decorative, or symbolic?

Cuisine and Food:

What are the staple foods in your world?

Are there exotic dishes or drinks with unique effects?

How are meals prepared, and what utensils are used?

8. Time and Progression

Calendar and Timekeeping:

How is time tracked? Are there hours, days, weeks, or unique cycles?

Are there celestial events that mark time (e.g., eclipses, comet passes)?

Aging and Lifespan:

How long do beings live?

Are there rituals for different life stages?

Historical Eras:

What are the major historical periods?

Are there legendary figures or events still celebrated or mourned?

Future Vision:

How do inhabitants imagine their world will change over centuries?

Are there prophecies or predictions about the future?

9. The Metaphysical Nature of the World

Spiritual Layer:

Is there an afterlife or spirit realm?

Can living beings interact with the spiritual plane (e.g., through rituals, dreams, or certain locations)?

Are ghosts, spirits, or other ethereal entities common?

Soul Mechanics:

Do beings in your world have souls or life energy?

Can souls be transferred, trapped, destroyed, or reborn?

Are there beings without souls?

Fate and Destiny:

Is there a predetermined fate or free will?

Are there entities (oracles, gods, etc.) that oversee fate?

How do people view destiny—something revered, feared, or ignored?

10. Communication Across the World

Long-Distance Communication:

How do people communicate over vast distances (messenger birds, magical crystals, telepathy)?

Are there communication hubs or networks, such as magical relay towers or ancient devices?

Media and Information:

Are there newspapers, magical projections, or digital networks?

How is news spread—by word of mouth, official channels, or clandestine organizations?

Are propaganda or misinformation prevalent?

Secret or Forgotten Knowledge:

Are there lost languages, forbidden texts, or ancient knowledge hidden in remote places?

Who guards or seeks these secrets, and what are their motives?

11. Ecology and Environmental Balance

Ecosystem Dynamics:

How do species interact in your world? Are there predator-prey relationships?

Is there a balance between nature and civilization, or is one dominating the other?

Environmental Hazards:

Are there toxic zones, cursed lands, or areas where the laws of nature break down?

How do inhabitants adapt to or avoid these regions?

Conservation and Exploitation:

Do societies in your world care about preserving the environment?

Are there organizations or individuals dedicated to protecting endangered species or sacred places?

12. Entertainment and Recreation

Games and Sports:

What are the most popular games or physical activities?

Are there unique sports or competitions tied to the culture or geography of the world?

Storytelling and Literature:

What forms of storytelling exist (oral traditions, books, holograms)?

Are there legendary tales or epics passed down through generations?

Performing Arts:

What kinds of music, dance, or theater are popular?

Are there magical or technological enhancements to performances?

Leisure and Pastimes:

How do people relax—hot springs, meditation, board games, or hunting?

Are there communal spaces, like taverns or virtual reality lounges, for socializing?

13. Health, Medicine, and Healing

Healthcare Systems:

How do societies manage illness and injury?

Are there healers, clinics, or magical remedies?

Diseases and Cures:

What are the most common illnesses or ailments?

Are there unique diseases that require special cures, rituals, or sacrifices?

Mental Health:

How is mental health viewed and treated?

Are there unique psychological conditions tied to the world’s magic, technology, or history?

14. Cosmic and Celestial Elements

Astronomy and Sky Features:

How many moons, stars, or celestial objects are visible in the sky?

Are there constellations with cultural or religious significance?

Space Exploration:

Is the world aware of other planets or galaxies?

Do inhabitants explore beyond their world, or is it a mystery?

Celestial Beings:

Are there deities, angels, or cosmic entities tied to the heavens?

Do celestial events (eclipses, meteor showers) have magical or prophetic significance?

15. Economics and Labor

Workforce and Professions:

What are the most common jobs or careers?

Are there unique professions tied to the world’s magic, geography, or history?

Trade Networks:

How do goods and resources move across regions?

Are there monopolies, trade guilds, or underground markets?

Currency and Wealth:

What is the currency, and how is wealth measured?

Are there alternative economies, like magical exchanges or something unique to your world?

16. Education and Knowledge

Education Systems:

How is education structured (schools, apprenticeships, guilds)?

Is education accessible to all or limited to the elite?

Libraries and Archives:

Are there grand libraries, hidden archives, or magical repositories of knowledge?

How is knowledge preserved or restricted?

Teachers and Scholars:

Who are the educators and intellectuals in this world?

Are they revered, feared, or ignored?

17. Personal Identity and Expression

Names and Naming Conventions:

How are people named? Are there family names, titles, or unique traditions?

Do names have symbolic or magical significance?

Fashion and Appearance:

How do people express individuality through clothing, hairstyles, or accessories?

Are there cultural taboos about certain colors, patterns, or styles?

Identity and Status:

How do individuals define themselves (by lineage, achievements, or beliefs)?

Are there cultural markers of status, such as tattoos, jewelry, or magical auras?

18. Laws and Governance

Types of Government:

Are there monarchies, democracies, theocracies, or something unique?

How much power does the government wield over individuals?

Legal Systems:

What are the major laws, and how are they enforced?

Are there courts, trials, or magical truth-telling devices?

Crime and Punishment:

What are common crimes, and how are they punished?

Are there vigilantes, bounty hunters, or corrupt officials?

19. Dreams and the Subconscious

Dreams and Their Role:

Do dreams have significance in your world?

Can people share dreams or enter each other’s subconscious?

Nightmares and Fears:

Are there entities or forces that prey on people’s fears?

Can nightmares manifest physically?

Dreamscapes:

Are there alternate realities accessible only through dreaming?

Can dreamers control or manipulate their dreams?

20. Time and Memory

Perception of Time:

Does time flow uniformly or differently in various regions or dimensions?

Are there time loops, anomalies, or portals to other eras?

Memory and History:

How is history recorded or remembered?

Are there people or artifacts that preserve memories?

Can memories be altered, stolen, or erased?

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

Endless Mountains Region Pokédex

[morverenmaybewrites]

Diluc x Fatui!Reader Snippet

Imagine winter in Sneznahya, in the furthest, coldest part of the region. Where the sun dips below the snow-capped mountains and will not surface again for six months.

(You have nightmares that one day, you will wake and you will no longer remember its face.)

(After all, you have already forgotten what it feels like to be warm.)

Imagine a river, so wide that it cuts through the continent like a hungry maw. Where the currents run so vicious that in spring, no boat dares cross it.

In the winter, it is frosted over, the ice so dark that it gleams like glass.

And yet, no one dares walk across it. For everyone has heard the stories of foolhardy travelers or perhaps the righteous fools burning to bring justice to the Fatui: of a single treacherous step causing the ice to crack. In the endless silence of Sneznahya, the sound would be as loud as a gunshot.

The ice would give way underneath one’s feet.

And the river would swallow them whole.

The drowning, however, would be perfectly silent. Their lungs would freeze before they have time to scream.

This place needs no guards, no gaolers, no ice-cold bars and the rattle of rusted keys on a chain. The river is enough.

And yet, they insist you are not a prisoner.

They call you—

(A criminal.

A monster.)

An honored guest.

They serve you steaming bowls of borst, with meat so tender it falls off the bone. Thick stacks of syrnik drizzled in honey so golden that it reminds you of summer.

They ply you with bottles of sweet kvass, so dark that you imagine it stains your teeth like tar.

And yet, you cannot leave.

You wonder how long they plan to make you endure this honor.

Imagine this: you harbor a terrible secret.

You are the one who created the monstrosities called delusions. The vile abominations that traded one’s life for power.

And when you had refused to make more, they put you here, at the edge of the world. Where you are guarded by a river so wide that it splits the region like a hungry maw.

Where the sun has dipped below the snow-capped mountains and will not surface again for six months.

Where you wake each morning feeling a little bit colder, a little bit weaker, your thoughts beginning to fog like figures in the snow.

(The drowning, it is said, is perfectly silent.)

And then imagine: fire.

[blackblooms]

So, didnt have a lot of progress to talk about on my new game since i had taken about 2-3 weeks to work on other things, but heres some of the work i`ve been putting into the world map and struckture.

So here we have what i call "zone maps" which consist of rough drawings of what areas are planned and how they are placed and connected. Since the game is themed around fire and wilderness, most areas are fiery twists on common fantasy environments and explore the many forms that heat and fire can take.

Some notable areas are:

Great caldera/Caldera outskirts: (dark red) Since flamebearers are highly resistant to heat and fire, it was an interesting subversion for the first area of the game to be a volcano. Boiling ridge/Boiling caverns: (cyan) The water area of the game, featuring harsh cliffside battered by a raging sea and plenty of geysers and thermal vents.

Pyrewoods: (bright red) A perpetually burning forest. The trees have adapted a thick insulating bark to protect themselves from the flame. Ashen highlands: (pale grey) An expansive plateau, located above the smoke of the forest. Deposits of ashes from the forest and caldera, fertilize the ground, making it a suitable place to build fields and villages. Sundered plains: (bright orange) A deadly desert, with plenty of glass structures formed from the scorching heat battering the sand.

City of cynders/Charred city (brown) The capital of an ancient civilization, burnt to the ground in times long past. Now only rubbles of sandstone and glass remains, and many myths of how exactly this city may have fell...

Frostburn pass: A gnarly canyon where frost and flame meet. Located between the great caldera and the ashen highlands. Brimstone bogs (dark green) ADark, smouldering swamps, where monstrous creatures lurk. A place long abandoned by the flamebearers and left to rot. Fuming crags (purple) Toxic fumes emanate from ancient fissures in the ground, rendering this region extremely dangerous to korugues and flamebearers alike. In the distance, an old castle lurk, long abandoned by those who used to call it home.

The melting pot: A loathsome pit of molten sludge, the heart of a twisted curse that cannot be destroyed or contained...

- Since were giving some building here, lets also describes some faraway lands that exist i nthe lore, but wont be seen in the game. South west: Nameless islands The great sea house many archipelago, conquered by the descendent of the flamebearer of the sea. South east: The frozen continent A distant landmass, overtaken by the ruthless cold. Ruled by the descendent of the frostbearer who could channel its power into cold instead of flames. North west: The endless peaks Towering mountains, reaching higher than the eye can see. Conquered long ago by the flamebearer of the sky and her children. North: Desolated expanse The sundered plains make way for a great wasteland. Long ago, the flamebearer of earth crossed through the desert and was rumored to have found habitable land on the other side, but very few dared cross the waste to verify those claims. East: The dark lands Lush forests cover the landscape, but those lands have long been forbidden. It is said that none of those who ventured to the east, not even the eldest and strongest son of the original flamebearer, was ever heard from again. My goal with these was that i wanted to imply a much bigger world beyond what is seen in the game (compared to irredeamable, almost claustrophobic worldbuilding) This next game will have plenty of distant lands and families to speculate on. I probably just wont do much with them myself. Anyway, all that stuff is subject to change as i work on it. The maps i provided are already pretty inaccurate, but that just means there will be much to discover when the actual game comes out.

[twisting-roads]

LOTG REGION MAP

This is a map for all the regions (and some subregions) for LOTG, at least the ones that are important. The other areas are just even more cities and factories, with a lot of empty space in between.

REGION DESCS BELOW (its long)

Refinery [HF] Heavy Factory

A foul stench covers the facility. Monstrous factories filled with dangerous organisms filter through the earth for precious minerals. Even after their departure, their machines continued on, their crunching echoing through the walls.

Derelict Sprawls [DU] Derelict Urban

The one of the oldest remaining cities on the surface, many refused to abandon it to live atop the iterators, and simply fortified further. Though it seems to have not worked out for them.

Sub-region: Cathedral

A place of prayer and worship, those who came to the cathedrals sought some form of guidance. When Sixteenth Boundary Collapse was constructed, the cathedrals had been integrated into them.

Abandoned Rail [AR]

A rail station connecting Refinery and Sprawls, proving obsolete after the Lineside was constructed. Most of the station has sunk deep into the earth or been washed away by the rains.

Quiet Bay [QB]

The rain shadow caused by SBC’s can has left the skies of the bay rather calm. Some cycles are clear enough to see the neighboring iterator group on the horizon. Small temples dot the shores.

Arboreal Lineside [AL]

A commercial rail line, linking together the iterators separated by the mountains. Most of the rail remains above the clouds, undamaged by rain. Vultures and other aerial life have claimed it as their nesting grounds.

Tundra [CF] Cold Farms

A quiet, vast snowy plain. Early civilizations settled here long ago due to the dense rains and nearby lake. Though these early settlements were built over in favor of agricultural land, not all of it was completely destroyed. Grass eats away at the bricks, unveiling the past.

Evergreen Backlet [EB]

Across the temperate forests of plants is an urban sprawl blanketed in snow. Each building and complex towering and spreading like an invasive species, the greenery below struggling. Yet the further traveled from Thirteen Catastrophes, the steeper the climb becomes, and the more the rainfall begins to freeze to snow. Yet the suburbs still feel endless.

Swamped Peaks [SP]

Once a beautiful mountain range, now treated like a septic tank. The rainfall from the local iterator has turned the once untouched snow into a disgusting slurry. Mounds of strange biomass fill the caves, alongside terrible predators, conditioned by the cold.

Sub-region: Observatory

At the highest point lies the unfortunate remains of an astronomical research laboratory, far from the reaches of the iterator rains. However, it’s condition has since deteriorated, housed now by scavengers and whatever escaped the sewers.

The Sewers [BD] Biomass Dump

A labyrinth of musky tunnels and sumps spreads like roots through the range. A dangerous place, filled with discarded biomass, sticking to the walls in a thick film. One wrong step could lead you to being devoured by the writhing masses, or right into the rushing currents of what may not even be water anymore.

Glacier [SG] Superstructure Glacier

Living blocks stacked into towers higher than previously imagined, the alleys below uncomfortably squeezed together. Bridges between buildings, creating a canopy of sorts. Though, rather than the city being reclaimed by nature, it appears the iterator itself is reclaiming it.

Sub-region: House of Bows

Architecturally unimpressive compared to the Temple of Nexus or Council of Droplets, yet a wonder in its own way. Swarmers fill the vacant rooms, iterator biomass crammed in the corners, weaving between wall to wall. It’s difficult to tell where building ends, and creature begins.

Eroded Basin [NB] NPM Basin

Nine Purple Mountains was constructed within the basin in order to contain the water vapor and protect the Steppe and Scablands. The rainfall only further widened the basin, causing structural damage to the buildings and facilities above. Scrap, garbage, and rubble fills the basin below them now.

Dry Canyon [CA] Canyon Alley

The skeleton of a river, dried up from iterator activity. Many attempts at constructing railways and other settlements lie dead and abandoned. Though it remains one of the only safe routes from OOQT to NPM.

Scablands [WD] Wild Desert

The ground fractals and forms into scars in the earth, rocks scabbing the surface. Vibrant wildlife flourishing in little patches. Temples and sanctuaries scattered throughout, serving and taking care of those lost within the beautifully cruel desert. They had tried their best to protect these lands from iterator rains.

Sub-region: Oasis

Go east, past the crumbling temples, and deep into the wild as you can go, you will find it. A lake so deep it’s thought to lead to the void sea. Many have drowned trying to find the bottom themselves. Perhaps there’s another path down?

Untouched Steppe [US]

Untouched by rains, that is. Rolling plains of shrubs and grasses, with skies so clear you can see the stars from the surface. Cities built around religious sites spread wide, seemingly making do with what little water there is. Though it may seem rather lifeless, droves of wild creatures appear from their burrows and dens during the cool nights.

Mausoleum [DC] Desert Crypts

Just below the mountains is a large graveyard of sorts. The memories of those who have moved on and left this material world lined in rows, stacked like blocks, sand and dust slowly enveloping them. Fierce organisms guard these crypts, guarding what is already largely forgotten.

River Reservoir [RR]

The wetlands that surrounded the river were built atop of and excavated in favor of creating water pumps and tanks for the iterators. As a result, the water levels began to fluctuate rapidly in response to the rains. Though the architecture is designed around this, a creature in the wrong spot may end up swallowed by the river.

Archipelago [AP]

What was once a large plain has been drowned and eroded by a single, rather large iterator. What remains now are a few islands and external facilities and factories peeking out over the dirty waters.

[tokidokitokyo]

石川県

Japanese Prefectures: Chūbu - Ishikawa

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

石　いし、セキ、シャク、コク　stone

川　かわ、セン　stream, river

県　ケン　prefecture

中部　ちゅうぶ　Chūbu, Central Japan, the central region of Japan

Prefectural Capital (県庁所在地) : Kanazawa (金沢市)

Ishikawa Prefecture lies along the scenic north coast of Honshu, the main island of Japan, and is part of the central region, known as Chūbu (中部) or Hokuriku (北陸). Ishikawa combines contemporary art and ancient crafts, stunning ocean or mountain views, relaxing hot springs and traditional Japanese inns. Kanazawa boasts a vibrant geigi (芸妓) culture (think geisha), a bustling seaport in Kaga, and mountainous terrain in the Hakusan region.

This region was hit by the 2024 New Year's Noto Peninsula earthquake, with the most devastation occurring in the northern part of the peninsula. Many businesses and much of the economy relies heavily on tourism, and now is a good time to visit to assist in revitalizing the community, especially in minimally affected areas such as Kanazawa and Kaga.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット Kutani Ceramic Art Village - 九谷陶芸村

Kutaniyaki (Kutani ware) (source)

Kutani ware is probably the best known in Ishikawa and the Noto peninsula. There are many kutani ware souvenirs to be found in Ishikawa, and you can even take classes to make your own pottery. Kutani ware contains five distinctive colors: red, yellow, green. purple, and blue. The rules for Kutani ware are few, so the freedom allowed in creating the pottery is practically endless. The high quality of the porcelain stone found in Ishikawa further lends itself to the distinctiveness of the pottery. In the city of Nomi you can find the Kutani Ceramic Art Village, which is also home to a museum documenting the history Kutani ware and how it is made. Nearby is Cerabo Kutani, a workshop where you can make your own Kutani ware pottery.

The history of this pottery dates back to 1655, when the first daimyo feudal lords of what was then the Daishoji domain wanted to make the most of the porcelain stone found in the area. A gold smelter was sent to Saga Prefecture to learn pottery, and when he returned he opened a kiln in the village of Kutani. This pottery became known as Ko Kutani, a predecessor to Kutani ware in its present form. This kiln operated for 50 years, and then closed down, for reasons unknown to historians.

The next kiln was opened in 1805, when a craftsman skilled in Kyoto pottery came to Ishikawa with his apprentice. The apprentice found the porcelain stone that is local to the area, and the pottery that they created became the modern day Kutani ware.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理 Kanazawa Oden - 金沢おでん

Kanazawa oden (source)

Oden is a popular traditional street food dish that can be traced back to the Edo period (1603-1868) in Japan. It is traditionally a dish of various ingredients simmered in soy-based broth and the simple yet warm and nourishing dish can still be found all over Japan today.

Kanazawa oden is a regional variation from the city of Kanazawa in Ishikawa, and is particularly distinctive from other types of oden due to the broth, which is carefully crafted from a blend of soy sauce, dashi (stock made from kombu seaweed and bonito flakes), and other seasonings such as mirin, sake, ginger, and garlic. Kanazawa oden ingredients include crab (only available in the winter!), plum shell conch, and fish balls. Kaga vegetables such as gensuke radish and wheat gluten are also staples in this dish.

Although Kanazawa oden can be enjoyed year-round, to get kani-men or stuffed crab shell you need to visit in the winter months.

Ishikawa Dialect・Ishikawa hougen・石川方言

The dialects of Ishikawa Prefecture are Kaga dialect (加賀弁, Kaga-ben) spoken in the southern part of the prefecture, and the Noto dialect (能登弁, Noto-ben) spoken in the northern part. There are also multiple dialects within each of the primary dialects, thanks to the mountains separating the villages. The below examples are primarily Kanazawa dialect.

1. あんやと、あんがと　anyato, angato

Standard Japanese: ありがとう　(arigatou) English: thank you

ああ、あんやと。 ah, anyato

ああ、ありがとう。 ah, arigatou

Oh, thank you.

2. ～しまっし　～shimasshi

Standard Japanese: ～してください、～しなさい　 (～shite kudasai, ～shinasai) English: please do ～, do ～

そこへ座るまっしね。 soko e suwaru masshi ne.

そこへ座ってくださいね。 soko e suwatte kudasai ne.

Please go ahead and sit there.

*Note: The masshi structure is the most famous Kanazawa dialect. This is also the catch phrase for visiting Kanazawa: 来まっし、金沢！ Kimasshi, Kanazawa! (Come to Kanazawa!)

3. ほうや、ほうや！　(houya, houya)

Standard Japanese: そうだそうだ　(sou da sou da) English: that's right, that's right

A: だちゃっかんわいね。 B: ほうや、ほうやね。 A: dachakkannwaine. B: hou ya, hou ya ne.

A: だめだね。 B: そうだ、そうだね。 A: dachakkannwaine. B: sou da, sou da ne.

A: That's not good, is it? B: That's right, that's right.

4. あゆるしゅう、あゆっしゅ　(ayurushuu, ayusshu)

Standard Japanese: よろしく (yoroshiku) English: nice to meet you, I'll leave it to you, please do etc.

A: デザートもたのむん？ A: dezaato mo tanomun? B: あゆるしゅう。 B: ayurushuu.

A: デザートも頼むの？ dezaato mo tanomu no? B: よろしく。 B: yoroshiku.

A: Are we ordering dessert too? B: Please do.

5. なーんも、なーん　(naan mo, naan)

Standard Japanese: いいよ　(ii yo) English: it's ok, don't worry

なぁーん、いいがや。 naan, ii ga ya.

いいえ、心配しないで。 iie, shinpai shinai de.

No, it's ok, don't worry.

More Ishikawa dialect here (JP).

[autisticlalna]

meanwhile, on Skyblock Kingdoms...

there was discussion in the discord about how things might have gone if Cherruby was there when Vintage killed Rue, and Ruby chimed in:

aw, Rue...

...hey wait what's that middle bit there

that could be about Cherruby having visions of Rue while he was tubed, but... "in a life they don't think is meant for them"? and we've already discussed how Cherruby, like most other residents of the kingdoms, isn't from this world--

WAIT

I. HUH. OKAY. ive been operating under that assumption for a while now, especially when discussing spacetime siblings due to attempting to figure out how the heck the mechanics of their existence works. but... it does make sense with what we've seen in-episode. Cherruby was exploring the world when he got hit by lightning and fell into the kingdoms, but...

"Not from the Skyblock region"? are. are there parts of the world that aren't floating islands above an endless void? did Cherruby grow up on solid land, with hills and mountains on the horizon instead of an empty expanse where you can see the sun rise from below you? why is the void here? how much of the world did the void consume? they're not just in the sky above a normal world, theres nothing down there.

[through tears] ILL TREASURE THIS FISH FLAKE FOREVER /what